The Devil You Know (Ceasefire Series Book 1)

by Claire Marta

  Mistress Talia. I can see the back of the bitch as she stands chatting to a small group. Her platinum blonde hair is plaited down her back. Instead of purple leather she’s wearing a tight red dress that showcases her perfect figure and long toned legs.

  Fingers curling into my palms, I itch to have them around her pretty slender neck.

  Registering movements to my right, I eye the guards who approach with an air of purpose that makes my hackles rise.

  “Careful now, she’s a feisty one, and she’s armed. “Raziel tells them helpfully. “Best to give her a good frisking so you don’t miss anything.”

  Inside me, instincts to fight war with the need for patience. There’s too many for me to subdue.

  Gritting my teeth, I stand still while they strip me of the leather jacket and disarm me. I knew the mother fucker was going to double-cross me. It’s why I came prepared. Keeping my expression annoyed, I hide my glee when they overlook my hidden knife.

  “In there with the rest of them.”

  A rough hand on my back shoves me inside the contender’s pen.

  Shrewd glances run over me. Sizing me up to see how much of a threat I might be. To the supernaturals I’m just another inferior human. Easy prey.

  Stalking to the back, I press up against the wall.

  Tracing the outline of the small knife concealed in the material of my jeans at my hip, I imagine driving it through Talia’s neck. Next, I would move onto Raziel, and hack off his pretty wings. To distract myself from acting out my fantasy too soon, I check out the new fighters already on stage.

  Shifters. A wolf and a bear. Both already in their beast forms, they’re stalking each other menacingly around the confined space of the cage.

  With its sheer size, the room seems to shrink as the were-bear goes up on its hind legs. One of its eyes has been gouged out. The injury so bad from a previous battle it can no longer open.

  Thinner and leaner, the werewolf has a mangled ear that hangs limply.

  “Your turn.”

  Glancing down, I see the table where people are each taking turns to snort up long lines of white powder along the surface with a straw.

  Raising an eyebrow, I shake my head. “I don’t do that shit.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Every competitor takes a hit of blow.” A skinny woman tells me as she sets them up.

  Raziel sucks on his teeth in disapproval, shooting me a hard glare from where he’s positioned himself by the wire door. “You want to be on my shit list? I promise it won’t be a pleasant experience for you.”

  Scowling back, I give him the finger. He really is an arsehole. Squatting down, I grab a spare short straw. Positioning it against my left nostril, I lean over, snorting up a fine line. I know cocaine will be absorbed into my nasal passage. From there it will join my bloodstream. This way it will give a powerful high. There’s no way to tell how long it will last. Fifteen minutes or several hours at the most. Enough for each fighter to experience euphoria before they battle to the death.

  Almost immediately, a burst of energy rushes through me, releasing large amounts of dopamine in the brain. The pleasure chemical. I feel focused, alert. Ready for what’s to come. Everything functioning a million times faster.

  I avoid worrying about the anxiety-ridden comedown I know will follow or the price of addiction. All the fucked-up side effects that come hand in hand with such drugs.

  Wiping my nose with the back of my hand, my attention crawls back to the fight cage.

  A swipe from a huge paw sends a few teeth flying from the Wolf’s muzzle.

  Blood covers their hides and paws. Lacerations are evident along their flanks where they’ve grappled.

  This won’t last long. Both are exhausted. Fuelled on adrenaline, hate, and a need to be victorious. To leave the ring breathing.

  With a spine-chilling bellow, the bear thunders towards its opponent.

  A new round of howls fill the room as the wolf goes down under the sheer brute force of powerful muscle and a blow to the head. Squealing in agony as jaws clamp around its neck, blood spurts onto the floor. A few shakes from the bear and the other Were lays dead.

  “You’re up next.” The guy dealing out the drugs announces.

  Blankly, I watch the carcass of the werewolf hefted clear. Its remains in the progress of shifting to its human form.

  I crush my emotions. Stuff them away in a box and throw away the key before a sense of injustice can invade. Calmness sweeps through me. Silencing my mind.

  Head held high, I take the two steps up onto the battle ground.

  Crimson stains the mats, still sticky and wet in places. Evidence of the senseless violence that has been organized for this rabid mob.

  “Next up is a new challenger.” A voice booms over a speaker. “Place your bets on The Devil’s whore who will be facing The Stray.”

  From her vantage point above, I spy Talia’s shoulders stiffen as she spins around.

  My gaze locks with hers. I see her shock. It ripples over her lovely face before she shuts it down. Honing in on her, I blot out the rest of the watching crowd.

  Faking a smile, I give her a wink.

  My rival shuffles into view. Small, skinny with mousey chestnut hair. The girl looks a few years younger than me. She’s nervous. I read it in the way her glance bounces around. The perspiration across her skin. Whoever she is, she isn’t a fighter, that’s clear. Some waif they’ve dragged off the streets. More than likely homeless from the state of her grubby jeans and ripped t-shirt.

  An innocent. Pity twirls in my chest.

  I’ve never broken this rule before. Never taken the life of someone who didn’t deserve it. Staring into her dirty face, I realise I’m at a crossway. If I do this there will be no going back.

  Doing this will be a heavy price to my soul. True damnation.

  Nathan. An image of my brother’s features floats through my head. Blue eyes lit with life. His mop of pale blonde hair.

  The softness within me dies quickly. No mercy. I can’t afford to waver from this. It doesn’t matter who she is. She’s an objective I need to overcome.

  To our right, the bell sounds, announcing the match to begin.

  Slowly, we circle each other.

  Every instinct tells me she’s easy prey, but I know I still have to be cautious. In my job things can be deceiving.

  I track her every movement.

  Licking her lips, she continues to edge around the rim. Just when I think this is going to be nothing but a long arse chase she attacks. Hollering like a banshee, she comes at me. It’s sloppy. Uncoordinated. From her dilated pupils, she’s as high as a kite on the cocaine.

  Fist connecting with her nose, I send her staggering back. Blood streaming from her nostrils, pain blooms over her youthful features. She’s not used to it. Unable to process the shock as quickly as a seasoned fighter.

  Taking advantage, I grab her by the back of the neck. It doesn’t take much to draw her into a head lock. Like the prey she is, instead of struggling, she freezes. The pulse beating frantically in her neck rivets my attention. Tremors rack her slight frame.

  Brown eyes stare up at me pleadingly. Begging to be saved. To spare her life.

  But I’m not here to save her. I’m here for my brother alone. Gaze boring into hers, I let her see the coldness behind mine. The darkness I harbour. Hopelessness dims her hazel brown irises as realization seeps in. Tightening the choke hold, I do the merciful thing. One clean twist and snap, she goes limp, neck broken.

  Booing booms beyond the cage. The throng show their displeasure at a dissatisfying match.

  Ignoring them, I let the corpse drop to the floor. I feel no satisfaction. No remorse. Only resolve to see this through to the end.

  I watch as two men take the girl by the feet and drag her body out of the ring. Something feels lodged in my throat as I unwittingly peek at the corpse’s glassy vacant stare. My insides are an instant jumble. Trying to clear it, I realise I’ve been given a new c
hallenger.

  A male this time.

  Tall and slender, he moves with an unnatural grace that sets my instincts on alert. He’s not human. With pale skin and striking blue eyes it could make him just about anything.

  Then he smiles, giving me a hint of pointy teeth.

  A fucking vampire.

  I keep my expression unreadable. No fear. This must be Talia’s doing. Tension coils through my muscles.

  His eyes flick from me to the crowd. He thinks this is going to be easy. That I am a weak link in the food chain. I can see it in the way he smirks. Expects it to be over in a bloody flash.

  He launches with no warning, all fangs and claws. It’s not hard to see from his lack of vampiric speed that he’s been starved. More vicious with bloodlust, it clouds his judgement.

  Instead of backing away, I plant my feet, falling into a fighting stance. Dodging his first jab fluidly, I retaliate with a right hook that sends him staggering back.

  Surprise flashes over his face. He’s quick to recover.

  Hissing, he charges with a burst of speed I haven’t anticipated.

  In a blur he’s on me. Fangs sink into the flesh of my shoulder, ripping through the sweatshirt. Agony screams through the nerves there, making me shriek. Bringing my knee up, I drive in into his balls.

  Claws rake savagely through the material protecting my side as another gouge’s through my cheek.

  The blow sends me tumbling. Hitting the mat, I breathe through the pain. Something wet spills down, dripping from my chin. I know it’s blood. My blood.

  The gash he’s left is pulsating, making my stomach churn. He narrowly missed the eye.

  The crowd roars its approval.

  “Get up, Mavi. I’ve got good money on you. Don’t fuck this up now.” Raziel grouses from behind the metal mesh. “Kill him.”

  His tone makes my teeth clench. Adrenaline pumping through me it dulls the wound.

  Rolling to the left, I’m just in time to avoid a foot to the spine.

  As the vamp comes at me again, I bring up my leg with a heel kick to the face. It sends him down.

  Scrambling up, I catapult onto his back, ploughing fists into the side of his head.

  He dared to make me bleed. Now I’m going to return the favour.

  With quick deft movements, I free the hidden knife from the compartment at my hip.

  Ramming it into his neck with a vicious grin, I twist it as I go.

  He might be faster and stronger, but he slices easily, just like the rest of us.

  Blood flows over my fingers.

  The vampire’s scream gives a thrill of pleasure.

  Rotating it, I excavate as deep as I can go.

  I make the mistake of slanting a look at the VIP area. Mistress Talia has her back to the entertainment. She’s riding the cock of a male she’s straddling in a chair. From her enthusiastic movements, she’s really enjoying herself. As she shifts slightly to her left, my delight at overcoming my foe grows cold.

  Nathan.

  Eyes rolled back in his head in ecstasy, my brother’s cheeks are flushed from sexual exertion. She’s fucking him. Draining his life-force as he sits helplessly. Rage erupts, destroying my

  concentration.

  A hand fists my hair. Slamming me forward with his vampiric strength, I find myself airborne.

  Solid metal links meet my back. Pain explodes from spine to shoulders. The blade skids away out of reach. Landing on the mat my addled brain identifies the jubilant cries from beyond the fence.

  Eyes locked on me with evil menace, the vampire bares his fangs.

  He’s pissed and done playing. I recognize a predator getting ready to make a kill.

  There’s a stillness that settles over his features. An emptiness that makes a home in his blue eyes.

  With a snarl, he soccer punches me in the stomach. The thud echoing around the room.

  Raising my hands, I shield my face.

  Insides twisting excruciatingly, I feel something crack. The fucker is trying to break my ribs. Make it easier to rip out my throat if I don’t struggle so much.

  Primordial and blistering like volcanic lava, my fury seethes through me. Red buzzes before my eyes.

  I want to see him burn.

  My darker side rising, it sings through my veins. I embrace it.

  Chin coming up, I grab the foot as it swings for another kick. Wrenching it sideways, I don’t stop until I hear it snap.

  For a split second everything slows down. Senses heightening, I’m aware of every fucking detail around me as I’m about to make a kill.

  Power pulses through every fibre of my being. Righteous, wrathful. White light sizzles in my palms. The same energy I experienced during the battle in Hell.

  Lurching up, I go for his face. Clutching his slender cheeks, I funnel it through my touch.

  His ensuing scream is hair-raising.

  In desperation, he tries to back pedal away, but I cling like a leech, chasing him down as he trips. Ignoring the pain crashing through me, I straddle his hips.

  Thrashing beneath me, his fingernails claw at my wrists.

  Wreak havoc. It’s an insidious whisper in my head. Headier than any man-made drug, it sends me soaring on a high that I know I might never recover from.

  As the vampire goes limp, I release my hold.

  His face is gone. A mass of bloodied tissue remains. It’s hideous, but I don’t look away from what I’ve done.

  Agilely, I regain my feet. Everything is sharper, brighter. Tipping my head to the side, I listen to the beat of more than a dozen frightened hearts pumping to a rhythm of fear. It’s music to my ears. A delicious melody.

  Mind no longer messy and cluttered, I let the natural, darker impulses guide me.

  Gate swinging open, two men hurry to intercept. Both wield swords. From the way they handle them confidently they know how to use them.

  They close in from either side.

  I observe them through the eyes of a hunter.

  Slashing for me, I dodge the first assailant. Faster than I have ever been before, I imprison his wrist before he can bring the blade back. With a gratifying snap, the bones break.

  He barely has time to scream before his throat is severed by his own blade.

  Its weight is welcome in my blood-stained hand.

  Metal clashes as I defend a blow from his companion.

  Beyond the cage, the audience continues observing, thrilled they are finally receiving a battle they believe they deserve.

  I despatch him quickly. Efficiently. He never feels the collision with the floor.

  Bending, I retrieve the second sword.

  With lethal calmness, I stalk free of the ring.

  Terror stricken screams erupt. I feel nothing as I hack down those in my path. An avenging angel hell bent on an exquisite slaughter. Swinging the weapons, I slash at limbs and torsos.

  I survey the carnage with cool detachment. No one is safe. I kill without discrimination or compassion.

  Across the room of fleeing forms, I catch sight of Raziel.

  Massive, black feathery wings unfurled, I see hellfire dancing in his eyes. Can taste his pleasure at such abandonment and destruction.

  It urges me on. Feeds the need to obliterate every last one of them who has stood watching. I fall flawlessly into the violence. An artist at work playing towards a crescendo of sublime devastation.

  It takes my breath away how easily it comes. How readily I accept it.

  The succubus bitch is my goal. I’m going to bring her down even if it’s the last thing I do.

  Three sumo like bouncer’s barrel towards me. Muscles bulging, they charge with a roar.

  Listening to the chorus of death thickening the air, I find an elegant choreography to the sound. Limbs in constant movement, they flow gracefully. A dance of agony and passion. Blades biting hungrily through tender flesh, I gut the first one.

  Pirouetting clear, the second falls just a swiftly.

  Poised for the t
hird, I find myself floating on a sea of serenity.

  Meaty fists flying, he takes a jab for my face.

  Jerking back, I bare teeth, thrusting a sword through his broad chest. Even before he hits his knees, expression stunned, he’s forgotten in my wake.

  Flicking my gaze up, I savour Talia’s look of fear. The way her red eyes bulge as she cowers back. I’m coming for the bitch. What I have planned for her is far from anything she can dream of. I won’t be sated until she’s broken.

  Nathan is still slumped in the chair. Blonde head lulled to the side, he’s unconscious. Seeing him half undressed with his placid cock hanging out douses my anger, turning it into concern. The symphony I’ve been following in my head grows quiet as sanity returns.

  “This is not possible.” Talia squeaks from beside Nathan’s seat. “You’re nothing but a human.”

  She’s never been more wrong. Not that I'm going to correct her. In silence, I move closer, my intent burning in my gaze.

  “So, you’re the Devil’s new whore. The one to replace me. Your reputation precedes you.”

  Tilting my head, I check out the owner of the voice who’s standing two paces to their right. White hair hanging loosely around slim shoulders, the female is just as beautiful as the other succubus. Her big breasted figure is shapely in a rudy coloured dress that matches her demonic eyes.

  This must be Trukun, Talia’s sister. The second commander stupid enough to go against the Devil himself.

  “Actually, I’ve been promoted to his executioner.” I tell them with a tight meaningful look, not letting the jab of jealousy get to me. This bitch will soon be dead. Dust beneath my feet. It shouldn’t matter to me who he was fucking before. He’s not my boyfriend or my lover.

  Fisting Nathan’s locks in one hand, Talia exposes his throat to her deadly talons. “Let me kill him, sister. Make an example out of him.”

  Everything inside me tenses. Frozen in a second, I’m ready to pounce, and bring her end. Clutching the handles of the swords, I prepare to send them flying.

  “A fierce little thing, aren’t you, but I know your weakness.” Trailing a finger up Nathan’s cheek in a caress, Trukun’s evil grin doesn’t mirror the affection of the gesture.