Dark Divinity: A Cursed Book

by Amy Braun

  That was when I knew he had her. The idea of Michael taking her over and destroying her from the inside out terrified her, just as much as the idea of him killing her outright.

  She glanced at me. I frowned, not thinking it was a good idea. It seemed like more exposure to me, the very last thing we needed right now. But I couldn’t make Dro’s choices for her when it came to her powers. She read my eyes and knew that I would support any decision she made, whether I agreed with it or not.

  Dro looked at Sephiel. “All right. I’ll do it.”

  They started talking about how he was going to begin teaching her control, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I was thinking about the consequences of what she was doing, trying to imagine if they would help her or hurt her in the end...

  It was easy at first, sneaking through the shadows and getting information on rival cartels and police raids. I got to know all the runners and falcons like me, who operated which corners, where the best deals went down, and who could be mostly trusted. Dro and I lived in the servant quarters at Emilio’s hacienda, which was a separate apartment on the grounds that was constantly watched by his personal guards. He wanted us to be comfortable, but he wanted us to remember that we belonged to him now.

  The staff at the hacienda kept a careful eye on me, but they loved Dro. She was their angelito– their little angel. While I was out spying on the streets, Dro did work in the kitchens, helping the cooks prepare food. She used to cook all the time with Mom, and the kitchen staff was eager to have her as a protégé.

  I didn’t like leaving her alone in a house filled with murderers and people I refused to trust, but Dro couldn’t come with me. It was too dangerous. At least she wouldn’t be hurt at the hacienda. Emilio wouldn’t allow it. Unless I stepped out of line.

  I worked hard to impress the Blood Thorns, giving up all my earnings to work off my father’s debt. I was paid by the value of information I brought back, so I kept my eyes and ears open to everything that the enemies of the Blood Thorns were doing.

  But I also saw what the Blood Thorns did to them.

  I once brought back information on where an exchange was going to be. One of Emilio’s men had been turned by the Fuego Cartel, their biggest rival. I’d had to stay in the dumpsters behind a rundown warehouse to get all the details, but it had been worth the atrocious smell. The traitor had given up details on Emilio’s operation and what his expansion plans were. The ex-Blood Thorn was a falcon like me and while his knowledge of Emilio’s operation wasn’t as thorough as mine, he was still betraying his employer.

  He should have known better.

  When I told Emilio, he said little. He hadn’t screamed or shouted or thrown something. He had calmly asked me when and where this meeting was taking place, and that I take him there. I did as he asked, going with him and the El Mirar– The Watch. Emilio’s private army.

  I sat in Emilio’s car with his most trusted guard, Hernandez, and Emilio’s son, Mateo, the quiet boy I’d seen in Emilio’s office the day I was first brought to them. We pulled up to the warehouse where three large, black Jeeps were parked. I looked around, seeing another four vehicles pull up beside us. More of The Watch. They stepped out of their trucks and Jeeps, dressed in black uniforms stolen from dead riot police. All of the men were armed with guns.

  Emilio gave me a bouquet of two dozen roses. He told me to stay with Hernandez, to say nothing and not move until he or Mateo returned. Then they and The Watch left. There had been two minutes of shouts, followed by five minutes of gunfire. Then there had been screams. Mateo came out of the warehouse and walked toward us. Like the rest of the Watch, he was dressed in a black tactical outfit, carrying a large automatic rifle in front of his chest. Blood splattered his face, but none of it was his.

  Mateo had been instructed to take me into the warehouse with the roses. I walked in silence with him, and saw my second massacre.

  Blood coated the sandy floor and the far metal wall. It pooled under bullet-riddled corpses and painted the boxes of plastic wrapped cocaine. There must have been a dozen bodies. One of them was collapsed on his side, a bullet hole clean through his head. The back of his skull was cracked open like an egg, red blood and grey brain spreading out behind his cranium. His dead eyes stared at me, unseeing but stuck in my direction.

  Mateo told me to place one rose on every body. His eyes were serious, yet sympathetic. He stayed close to my side and watched me diligently. I shook with every step, feeling my stomach churn as I stared at the bullet riddled corpses. The metallic smell of blood and sour rot of death made me gag. But I placed the roses on the bodies.

  Then Emilio asked me to come over to where the last traitor was standing. It was the falcon I had ratted out. He was bound to a post with his hands behind his back, his eyes wide with terror. He’d been beaten by The Watch, his bruised face as bloated and swollen as a drowning victim. He looked at me with so much fear that I stopped walking. I clutched the last rose and felt the thorns bite into my palm. Mateo put his hand on my back and pushed me forward. I barely felt myself moving.

  Hernandez grabbed the falcon’s head, prying open his mouth. I nearly screamed when Emilio took out a knife and sawed off the falcon’s tongue. The man gagged and choked on blood as Hernandez held him in place. Emilio turned back to me, looking into my eyes when he took the rose from my trembling fingers. He walked back to the falcon. He took out a gun from inside his jacket and shot the traitor between the eyes. Blood and bone exploded out from the back of his skull, splashing onto the metal post. His eyes rolled up into his head, and then he was still. Hernandez kept the dead man in place as Emilio put the rose in the falcon’s bloody mouth. Emilio looked at me, his dark eyes cold and merciless.

  “We send messages, Constance. You will never be respected if you do not make them remember you.”

  I barely remembered Mateo’s hand on my elbow as he led me out of the warehouse, or how he promised it would get easier. I didn’t remember the drive back to the hacienda. All I remember was going into the room I shared with Dro, and the worried look on her eleven year old face when she saw me. I burst into tears and dropped onto the floor. Her little arms had held me as much as they could, her familiar voice telling me that everything would be all right.

  ***

  After the massacre, I went back to work. Months passed, and soon I was coming up on my sixteenth birthday. I was getting colder, more detached. I was becoming faster, stronger, and more dangerous. I took more risks. I paid off more of the debt. I kept an eye out for monsters. But I never forgot what I had seen in the warehouse. My nightmares didn’t fade. I simply tried to keep my screaming to a minimum so Dro could sleep.

  I was almost glad to go on my latest run. One of the Fuegos was planning to ship a huge amount of heroin. Emilio planned to intercept it and steal it. The shipment was worth one hundred thousand American dollars, and it was my job to find out where the drop was going to be.

  I stayed in the shadows, watching my target. He slipped out of a dark alley and waited at the far corner. By now, I knew most of the streets downtown. I turned and sprinted down another alley. I squeezed between the narrow stone walls by the street shops, feeling the metal bars of the windows press against my back. I made it through the narrow crevice into the alley he walked down. Barely looking past the corner, I saw my target, a man named Horatio Juarez, standing six feet away at the mouth of the alley.

  He wasn’t a very tall man, only a couple inches taller than me, but he was fairly broad. He wore black pants and a black military jacket over his big shoulders. He looked back again, but didn’t see me. The sounds of honking horns and shouts from the street faded as I focused on Horatio. He stared at the intersection ahead of him, sliding his hands into his pockets. Two minutes later, a black car pulled up. A man got out and walked toward Horatio.

  “Tuesday, south border desert, 11:25.”

  It was faint, but I heard everything I needed to hear. That was all the man had to say. He turned, got back into his c
ar, and drove away. I started to slide back through the crevice. It was a tight squeeze, but if I made it once before, then I could make it again.

  A hand suddenly clamped on my arm and dragged me out from between the buildings. I was thrown onto the alley floor, landing on my ribs. I whirled onto my back. Horatio was standing over me, a furious look in his eyes.

  “So you’re the one who’s been following me,” he growled. “You’re not as sneaky as you think, you little bitch.”

  I backed up and tried to get away. He was faster than me. He grabbed my ankle and jerked me back. I cried out and tried to kick at him, but he was already reaching down and grabbing my throat. He lifted me off the alley ground and squeezed. I tugged at his hand, trying to get it off me so I could breathe, but he was too strong.

  Horatio twisted and threw me into the wall. My face crashed against it. Blood burst from my nose and my head was filled with a sharp, throbbing pain. I shook my head and tried to move away, but Horatio pressed himself against my back, crushing my chest into the wall.

  “I know who you are,” he snarled, his stale breath hot in my ear. “You’re Rocha’s little whore. The quick little bitch running around giving him all the info he wants. You think the Fuegos wouldn’t find out about you?”

  My heart pounded behind my ribcage, beating against the wall. I tried to slide my hands to where my hatchet was hidden, but I couldn’t move them to my back. Horatio grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked my head back. I gritted my teeth and tried not to cry out. No one would help me if I did.

  “I’m gonna make my own message out of you. Give Rocha something to think about.”

  He pulled me by my hair until I stood in front of him. Then he backhanded me across the face. I spun onto the ground, landing on my front. Blood dripped from the cut on my lips and my bleeding nose. Everything was spinning. I pushed myself up just long enough for Horatio to kick me in the ribs. I landed on my back, and then he was on top of me.

  I panicked, struggling and shoving against him. I had to get my hatchet. I arched my back, sliding my hand toward the back of my belt where I’d hidden it. Horatio used one of his hands to punch me in the cheek. My head snapped to the side, filled with new pain. He trapped one of my hands by my side and used the other one to slide under my shirt and cup my breast. I winced as his fingers pinched and twisted my flesh. An uncomfortable bulge pressed against my hips. His breath smelled like old meat and cheap tequila. My fingers found the hilt of my hatchet. Horatio fumbled at the button on my jeans. I pried my hatchet from my belt, feeling its awkward shape against my back. I twisted my arm out from under me as Horatio tugged at my pants. He leaned in, biting my ear hard enough to make it bleed.

  I screamed and slammed the hatchet into the side of his neck.

  Horatio stopped moving. Blood squirted out from where the blade had stuck in his skin, splashing onto my collarbone. He slumped heavily against me, pressing the air out of my lungs. He was heavier now than he had before. My heart was straining painfully in my chest. I struggled to control my breathing. My entire body shook.

  I wrenched my hatchet from his throat. It made a squelching sound as it was torn from his flesh. More blood dripped onto me. It took all of my strength, but I pushed Horatio off me. I scrambled back and looked at the body.

  His head was twisted in my direction, his shoulder blocking his mouth. I could see the dark red stain on his neck, the blood oozing out onto the ground around his head. His eyes stared forward, glazed over in death. My hand shook so badly that I lost my grip on the hatchet.

  I had killed him. I had killed a man. I’d done the worst thing a person could do to someone.

  I tried to tell myself that he would have done the same to me without hesitation. That he was going to rape me and beat me to death, leaving me as nothing but a warning for Emilio. But the tears wouldn’t stop. There was an ache in my chest that was threatening to eat me alive.

  I had killed someone. Dro would never be able to look at me again.

  I lost track of time as I sat in the alley with Horatio’s body, crying until I was certain I was going to dehydrate my body. After a while, there were no more tears. I couldn’t be weak anymore. I had to keep my little sister safe, even if she would hate me. I needed to be stronger. I was lucky this time. I had to become something else if I wanted to survive in the life I’d chosen.

  I had to be a monster.

  Feeling numb inside but shaking on the outside, I crawled over and took Horatio’s jacket off his body. I tucked the bloody hatchet into my belt, pulling my arms through the jacket. It smelled like blood and was too big for me. Maybe I would grow into it. I was going to keep it as a reminder of what had happened here. What I had turned into.

  It took me a couple hours to hike back to the hacienda. I had missed my ride, and I wanted to clear my head. Emilio would be angry with me for being late, but he would appreciate weakness even less. I couldn’t cry in front of him. I had to be strong. Cold. A stone.

  When I finally made it back to the house, the guards didn’t ask where I had been or why I was covered in blood, but they still let me through the gates. They all knew me by now. I trudged through the gardens and into the house, hearing the maids, gardeners, and guards whispering about me. I didn’t care.

  I found Emilio, Mateo, and Hernandez in the dining room having breakfast. Dro was with them. She looked up from her barely eaten food, gasping when she saw me. I felt my heart crumble even more at the sight of my eleven year old sister. I wasn’t looking forward to her despising me, but I wouldn’t blame her.

  “Connie!” she cried, jumping out of her seat and running for me.

  Mateo looked up and gaped when he saw the mess that I was. Emilio and Hernandez stared, but

  I could read nothing in their eyes. Dro threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. I put my hand on her back, grateful that she was here, but still too broken to move.

  “You didn’t come back,” she whispered into my chest. “I was scared you were kidnapped or hurt.” She squeezed me tighter. “And you are hurt.”

  “I’m okay, Dro,” I breathed. “I got trapped and had to do something bad.” My voice caught in my throat. “Something really, really bad.”

  “I know. I can see it. I feel how sad you are.”

  I swallowed, trying to look strong in front of Emilio and Mateo. Emilio got up from his chair. There was an uncomfortable tingling in my body. Dro was healing me.

  “I’m just glad you’re home,” she said softly.

  Right then, I knew she wasn’t going to be angry with me. She wasn’t going to see me as a monster. At least not yet. The long walk had given me time to think about how to make myself tougher, and I came up with one conclusion. After what I was about to ask Emilio, I wasn’t sure she would keep thinking so highly of me.

  “You’re wearing Horatio’s jacket,” Emilio noted.

  I lifted my eyes to meet his. He was only a couple feet away from me with Mateo and Hernandez close to his back. I peeled Dro off my chest and moved her behind me. Emilio’s eyes scanned mine. It wasn’t long before he knew.

  “You killed him,” he stated.

  “He knew I was following him,” I explained. “He attacked me. I defended myself. The jacket is my proof.”

  Emilio’s stare was vacant, and a little scary. “Hernandez, get a lead on Horatio. Make sure that he’s dead.”

  The big bodyguard left the room. I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

  “I want to be an enforcer, Emilio,” I said.

  Mateo took in my request with silence and an empty stare. I could feel Dro looking around me, tugging on my hand. I focused on Emilio. He stared blankly at me.

  “I’m tired of doing the small jobs with pointless risks. I want to know how to fight back. I can get you more information. I can pay off more of the debt. I’ve earned it.”

  He took a slow step toward me. “Have you?”

  “Yes. I deserve to–”

  The loud smack of his hand across
my face subdued me, cutting through the air like a knife. Dro shivered and clutched my hand tightly. She wanted to defend me, but knew there was nothing she could do against a stone-cold killer like Emilio. I wouldn’t ask her to. The pain was bad, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

  “You deserve nothing,” Emilio growled. “Not unless I decide it. You are the one who came crawling to me, begging for help because you weren’t strong enough to take care of yourself. Never assume otherwise, Constance.”

  I stayed still, frightened that I might do something to push his rage further. I knew about the things Emilio did. He might have let me live in his house and eat at his table, but he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if I displeased him. Something I had obviously done.

  “With all due respect, father, I think she has potential.”

  Emilio turned to look at his only son. Mateo held his ground, strong and confident. Unlike his father, his dark eyes glimmered with passion.

  “I’ve been watching the reports. Constance has brought back more information than any of our other falcons. I think she’s ready.”

  “Being an enforcer is not for the weak, Mateo. Do you think she’ll be able to handle the things an enforcer must do?”

  “I’ll train her myself,” Mateo answered. When his dark eyes found mine, they were almost as severe as his father’s. He grinned coldly. “She’ll be able to do it.”

  At the time, I was grateful that Mateo stood up for me. He was handsome, confident, and strong. I noticed the way he’d been looking at me, felt how he made my heart beat a little bit faster when he walked into the same room I was in.

  But if I had known what he would turn me into, I would have stopped him...

  Chapter 5

  We had to share the two-bed room of the motel, but it was nice to stay in one place for a couple days. Even if the motel did smell stale and the hot water lasted for five minutes. We’d gotten more supplies and heard nothing of the angels or demons after us. I stayed in the motel and rested, actually managing to sleep more than four hours for once. I shifted on the bed, blinking my eyes open and sitting up. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. I glanced around the hotel room, seeing only Max sitting at the dining table with some takeout food and a laptop.