The Arbiter: Divinely Damned Book One

by K. B. Ladnier

  A voice at the door has the three of us turning in unison, “Nocturna?”

  Enoch, you son of a bitch, asshole damned. I take off at a run so fast that no one is able to stop me. Launching myself at him, we hit the floor hard. It knocks the breath out of me, but I’m at least going to get in a good couple of swings before I get pulled away. He never even puts his arms up to defend himself, which makes me even more angry. My palms start to burn, and that’s when I see the fear flash in his eyes. Before can turn him to ash, kicking his ass to Damnation, Larkan hooks his arms underneath mine and pulls me away.

  “Where were you?!” I scream. “If you would have been here this never would have happened.” His face goes stoic before he stalks back out of the room.

  Larkan’s smooth voice is in my ear, “It’s not his fault, and you know it. If he would have been here, he would probably be as dead too.” And, of course, he’s right. Everyone is always looking for a scapegoat, and I’m no different. Logic is the last thing on my mind. I really just want to throw something. In fact…

  I can’t contain it anymore. A man I love has been taken. Someone he was close to was murdered. And now not only was my home invaded, but a friend I cared deeply for was slain in the middle of that home, tainting something I love with the blood of someone I love. I let out a war cry that practically shakes the building from its foundation. I grasp the nearest table to me and flip it. I pick up and smash one chair – then two – on the ground. I stalk to the bar and swipe every glass and bottle from its surface and watch as the shatter against the wall and floor. My breath is heavy as I stand there, staring at the shards of glass and broken pieces of wood that’s scattered everywhere. I sink back, resting my back against the bar and glare at my hands. Hands that had the power to stop all of this. To help them all. Yet, I wasn’t there for any of them.

  Larkan comes over and folds my hands gently in his. “Go upstairs,” he orders in a soft tone. “Run a warm bath, have a nice soak, and cry it out if you have to. Let the Rites handle this down here, and I’ll be up in a bit when I lock the doors behind them.”

  Normally, I’d fight being ordered around, but I just don’t have it in me. Taking one last look at what used to be Cedric, I then turn and make my way up the stairs two at a time. Even in the solitude of my loft, I will not cry for him. He wouldn’t have wanted that. I will, however, avenge him and bring Jamie home. All I’ve got to do is wait for the perfect moment.

  Enoch

  After an urgent summons from Marilith that had no real reasoning behind it at all, I head back to the Apothecary. No matter what Nocturna said before she left, she knows that I don’t plan on leaving. The least I can do is keep an eye on things while she’s gone, and she never has to know the difference. I’m running out of time to do what is being asked of me, and the results should I fail could be catastrophic. As long as I keep Nocturna at arms distance, I should be able to stall a little longer. I should have known that things don’t go the way that you want them to most of the time, especially for Damned such as myself with no soul.

  As I walk towards the club, I see multiple black Rite SUVs parked outside. Fuck. No one tries to stop me as I make my way inside. Nocturna is standing with Larkan and another Rite but has a spaced out look on her face as she gazes at the fallen body of her friend. That is rule number one in my book. Never make those connections with people. They’ll either leave you stranded with nothing but a heartache to show that they were even there in the first place or be used as leverage. I’ve had both, and they’ve made me into the heartless, soulless damned Infernal that I am today.

  I know it’s a risk to make my presence known, but I have to. I’ve never been one to bow out gracefully. “Nocturna?”

  It’s as if time stops when she turns to me. Unshed tears clog her eyes right before a feral expression crosses her face, and she screams. The Rites in the room simply watch as she attacks me for all that she’s worth. I can’t say that I blame them as she lands good blows to my face over and over. I refuse to stop her. This whole thing may not be solely my fault, but I’ll be fucking damned if it doesn’t feel that way. Besides, she needs someone to take her anger out on. I’ll always be that for her if I need to be.

  When I don’t respond to her attack, it looks to piss her off even more. Her palms start to glow, and I feel the heat from them. In a few more moments, I’ll be nothing more than ash covering the floor of her club and that scares the shit out of me. Not for me, though. I deserve what I get. However, she will never survive what Marilith and Cain have in store for her if she sends me to Damnation.

  Luckily Larkan yanks her off me before she does any permanent damage. I’d love to be the one who is holding her right now, but that will never be me again. Slipping my asshole mask back on, I make my way back out of the club.

  Nocturna

  I do as Larkan says, trying to relax in the bath and all that. It does nothing to relieve the tension that I feel from being able to do nothing for Jamie and Monroe. Enoch isn’t the real one to blame here. Honestly, it’s my fault. These people, for whatever reason, want me. Probably to kill me, but they weren’t exactly specific in their demands. If I would have just given myself up when the first phone call came through, Monroe would be with his people, and they never would have captured Jamie or killed Cedric.

  An idea flashes through my head, and I know that it’s going to be dangerous. It’s likely going to piss off every man in my life. There’s also the possibility that I will die, but I cannot sit here and wait for someone else to rescue those important to me. Those Damned mother fuckers want the Arbiter? Well, they’re going to get her.

  Tossing some clothes on, I do the only thing that I know to do. There was no return number on my caller ID from the assholes that took Monroe, but I hope by some miracle that hitting the call back button will reach them. If this doesn’t work, then I’m not exactly sure on what I’m going to do. Looks like it’s my lucky night and someone else’s unlucky one as the other end of the line starts ringing.

  “Took you long enough,” a rough voice answers on the other end of the line. “We were wondering how many more people we would have to kill before you paid enough attention.”

  “Asshole,” I grind out through my teeth. “They better still be alive, or I’ll ash everyone in that god forsaken place.”

  The voice barely lets me get my words out, “If you know what’s good for you, Arbiter, you’ll keep that mouth shut. Otherwise, your Strige loverboy will never make it til you get here.”

  I grit my teeth together to keep from cursing him again, “Just tell me what I have to do.”

  Larkan

  What a fucking week! I say to myself as I’m locking the doors behind the Rites. Once they got everything that they needed from the scene and his body, they gave me permission to cover him with a sheet from one of the spare rooms from upstairs.

  Nocturna isn’t in a place where she can logically decide what she wants done with the body, probably will hold out hope of finding her friend so she can decide. As I carry it upstairs to the same room in which I found the sheet, I can’t help but to think what a disaster this whole situation has become. It’s not surprising that someone would try to make a power move in the same time frame of switching Arbiters. I’d bet almost anything at this point that whoever is behind this, also had insight as to who the next Arbiter would be. That would also mean that they are behind the death of the old one, Cassia. If my assumptions are true, then it will be a whole lot to answer for when they are revealed.

  I finish the cleaning before heading up the stairs to check on Nocturna. It’s been a couple hours already, so I’m hoping that she did as I said for once and is trying to get some rest. Climbing up the outside stairs to her loft, I let myself in at the door. It hasn’t even swung open all the way before I realize that the loft is empty. Rushing around to all the rooms, I continue checking for her before flipping the fuck out. Once I see for myself that she is nowhere to be found, a yell is ripped from my thr
oat.

  “Why, oh fucking why could you not just do as I asked?” I’m mad enough to rain wrath down upon anything within reach. Lucky for me and everything she values in this place, I’ve got years and years of control under my belt.

  The door slams against the back of the wall, and I have my blades drawn before either of us can take a breath. I bury the first one in the door as a warning; the other pulled back to let loose just as I realize it’s Enoch. With all this other shit going on, I haven’t been able to pin point exactly who he’s been going to see, but he’s out of time now.

  “What’s your deal, Infernal?” I insist throwing my hood up over my head.

  His face reveals nothing as he says, “I need to talk to her, now.”

  My laugh is short and nowhere close to humorous, “Well, good luck with that. She’s not here. More than likely run off to find Monroe and Jamie.”

  “Then I suggest you take that other blade and make sure that it hits home this time,” he tells me, sagging in defeat.

  “What are you hiding?” I demand, not entirely wiping his suggestion off the table.

  He walks over slowly and sits on the couch in front of me, placing his head in his hands, “It doesn’t matter now. If they have her, then it’s over.” Glancing up at me, I can tell the words he speaks ring true. “I sold my soul a long time ago to save hers, and I’d do it all over again. They wanted me to help tip the precarious balance that she now sits on. I wouldn’t do it. That’s why I kept pissing her off. The further she stayed away from me the better. I just couldn’t help it when I saw her again for the first time in so long. Damn, I missed her something fierce.” He shakes his head, “After all this time, and I still failed her.”

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I don’t know if it’s because I know that he’s finally speaking the truth, or that I could use the backup. But I say, “I can find her.”

  His eyes jump to mine, “What do you mean?”

  “I marked her,” I answer, “The first time that I kissed her. I can find her anywhere that she goes now. Depending on how far they’ve taken her already, it may take a few days to sort it out, but I’m going after her. I could use the extra man power, if you’re willing. It’ll take too long to call in Rite reinforcements.”

  He stands and moves toe to toe with me. We’re almost the same height, but that in no way intimidates me.

  “Just so we’re clear, if you try to double cross either one of us, you will die,” I say to him. “It won’t be a lovely quick death either. I will draw it out as long as possible before letting her ash your lying Infernal ass and sending you where you belong.”

  Nodding, he says, “I deserve that and understand.”

  “Good,” I tell him starting for the door, “Now, let’s go save our girl.”

  Nocturna

  The silver binding my wrists together is burning like a motherfucker. My breath is hot, and my face sweats from this stupid, black sack over my head.

  Still, I don’t regret letting the humans take me.

  I need to find where Monroe is and hopefully figure out a way to get the Damned within their captivity freed. This is what I was created for.

  The vehicle I’m in comes to a stop, and the men on either side of me start sliding me out of it. They begin to roughly usher me forward. I stumble in what feels like thick grass whipping at my shins as we walk forward. I can’t see anything around me, but I can smell a horrid, burning scent in the air and can hear the distant hum of some kind of machinery.

  My boots hit a flat, level surface and scrape against tiny rocks as we continue forward. I hear a heavy, metal door creak open, and the guy on my right shoves me inside. My footsteps begin to echo, and I feel the air around me becoming warmer. I hear pain filled screams above me, letting me know the building is at least a few stories tall.

  “Evening gentleman,” a formal sounding voice says to the men. “Another one? What is she?”

  The man to my left grunts. “No idea. The mark on her palm is different than the others we’ve brought. Apparently she’s someone they’ve been looking for from what she said, but she refuses to say anything else. She’s a pretty little thing, too. I bet she’d fetch a high price in auction. Especially since she could be a rare breed.”

  I want to rip his throat out at how nonchalantly he talks about my kind like were chattel. If only they knew how easy it would be for me to kill them all. Their assumption is right. I’m rare, and nothing they’ve ever seen before.

  Another door sounds. “Bring her on up. I’d suggest keeping those hands bound. Since we don’t know what she is, we can’t risk her touching us with that mark.”

  “We aren’t stupid, Minnick. We’ll handle it. She practically gave herself over to us. My guess, she might be rare, but she doesn’t look all that powerful.”

  I hold back a snort. These idiots have no idea I actually did give myself over to them. These must be the lackey’s of the group, the expendable ones not given any information. I’ll gladly let them underestimate me.

  “Still. You never know.” The man called Minnick says.

  The men holding onto me shove me forward.

  “Move that sweet ass, Damned. We gotta get you to the beautician for a makeover.”

  I grit my teeth and continue forward. However, my feet stub into what feels like a step, and my legs buckle, causing me to stumble and almost fall. The men holding my arms are the only reason I don’t.

  “Well that won’t work. We have to remove the sack now, monster. I don’t feel like carrying you up the steps.”

  The sack is ripped from my head. I get a firsthand view of the pleased smirks on their faces.

  I look around and see were in an old, spiral stairwell. The walls and steps are light, grey stone. The railing of the steps is wrought iron and rusted, leading up to at least another six floors. I can see the highest part of the building between the winding stairs.

  I’m pushed forward and begin my ascent. My boots echo against the walls of the open stairwell. There’s barred windows at every platform between the next set of stairs. Unfortunately, they’re too high for me to look out of as we pass them going up.

  I hear the screams of pain more clearly as we go higher, and my chest constricts at feeling all the Damned around me. There has to be hundreds within this building. Some of their souls are fainter than others, but the ones in pain, I feel the most vividly.

  I have to push back on the feelings, or risk crying out myself. I hold the tears back that threaten to fall knowing that so many of my people are being tortured all around me. When we reach the third floor, the guy to my right pounds a fist on the heavy metal door. A guy on the inside slides open a little rectangle in the middle. He sees us then closes the latch and opens the door.

  I couldn’t have prepared myself for the sight that lay before me as they walked me into a large hallway and shut me in.

  All along the corridor, there are doors made of the same heavy metal as the one we entered. The floor, walls, and ceiling are aged stone with mold, and stains of time marring them. Blood stains can be seen all long the floor. From drag marks, to large patches where someone had to have sat bleeding.

  It’s then, I notice the doors aren’t just any metal but are actually made of silver.

  That’s not what makes me chest burn with agony and rage, though.

  It’s that as I peek in through the small windows of each door we pass, I see some form of torture being performed on Damned.

  One is being cut repeatedly with a silver blade.

  One is strapped to electric chair and shocked violently over and over.

  One is wrapped up tightly with silver dipped razor wire while a masked person pours some sort of liquid on the Damned, melting the flesh from his body.

  Something inside me snaps with every passing window; each view of torture gets seared into my brain like a brand, boiling my blood.

  I feel the earth move beneath my feet and my world falls into slow motion as the rush of the
ir pain floods into me. I come to a halt, making the two men on either side of me stop as well. They try to pull me forward, but my eyes only focus on the agony filled faces of my people. It is one thing to see it, but it is a whole other experience feeling it as well.

  Tears of both sorrow and pure fucking rage fall now, and a scream is torn from my throat.

  I yank my arms from the two men; my earlier calm and collective mind clouded. These are my people. They have broken them. And I can’t control my instinct to kill for what’s been done.

  My body explodes into my Damned form, and I break the blistering, silver chains from my wrists with a simple tug. The two humans jump back from me, but immediately go back to trying to restrain me. I slam my palm into the chest of the one on my left, rocketing his body backwards into one of the doors. I watch with a venomous smile as his body erupts into flames and bursts into a cloud of ash. I grab the throat of the one to my right as he tries to run away. My nails dig into his flesh, and I revel at the look of horror and fear that slides across his face at seeing this form.

  “You will pay…” I rumble out in my demonic voice, acid coating my words.

  The man’s face is turning purple, and his eyes are bulging from being choked. His hands begin clawing at my wrists, but it’s hopeless. Blood drips from the puncture wounds in his neck where my sharp nails are dig in.

  “P-p-please. D-d-don’t,” he rasps out. His begging only makes me want to kill him more.

  An alarm sounds, and red lights begin to flash from above me. I pay them no mind as I call in just a snippet of my power into my palm. His skin begins to turn black and cracks, spreading to his face and chest. I feel his life force draining from his body as he screams and steadily turns to hot ash in my hands.

  I barely get to finish killing him when four different sets of hands latch onto me. Silver chains wrap around my arms and torso, then around my wrists once again. I let them. I will have my revenge for what’s been done. Killing those men helped ease the anger that flooded me.