Satan's Stone (Demon Kissed)

by H. M. Ward

  Collin nodded. “I wish I could change it. I wish…” but he never got to say it. The sky above him began to move, swirling like ink and blood. Kreturus was coming.

  “I still want you. I can’t let him take you again,” Eric’s grip nearly slid off my shoulder, but I grabbed it with my hand. I started the effonation the moment the sky changed. It had started within me already, and I shrouded it with shadows so no one would feel its heat. Not Eric. And not Collin. It was draining every last bit of power I had left.

  The smile on Collin’s face faded, making something deep within me stir. Collin said, “The bargain I made killed me. Never think it was you…” Collin’s spine stiffened as he looked up. “You need to go. Go before he calls me back, or worse.”

  I nodded once. Then, the flames shot through my stomach and the shadows slipped away, revealing the coursing heat that enveloped us. Eric’s grip on me tightened as I pulled him away with me. The night was swallowed up around us in tongues of flames as the Demon King returned to Collin.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  We landed hard on the floor of the Lorren. I screamed, clutching my chest as the poison burned within. Eric got to his knees and leaned over me. A hand reached down and pulled him away, and then swept under me. I managed to utter, “Don’t kill him,” to Eric before I passed out.

  Voices penetrated my ears before I slid my eyes open. Eric was speaking, “She won’t do it. It doesn’t matter.”

  Lorren answered, annoyed, “You can’t expect me to believe that she’ll kill him when the time comes if she didn’t do it already.”

  “You can’t expect anything from her… ” Eric retorted.

  “I said the spell,” I answered sitting up. The poison was still in my chest. I could feel it. A metallic blue flower twisted between Lorren’s fingers. He drew out more of the venom, pulling it away from my heart. My weakness had faded with sleep. I was shocked that neither one of them killed me. Their heads turned in my direction. “I meant to kill him, but something went wrong. It was like the last word only stunned him. And split him from Kreturus. I didn’t default on my end of the bargain. The spell didn’t work.” I punched the solid gold bench I was laying on and it dented beneath my fist with a loud thud.

  Eric asked, “He said you knew why it didn’t work.”

  I glared at him, “I didn’t know if that was the reason or not. And it wasn’t a good time to discuss it…”

  “But,” Lorren said, “if you have even the slightest idea why he survived…”

  I growled my reply, “My soul. My soul was in his body. It protected him. I don’t know why or how. Locoicia didn’t know it was there. I never told her.” Staring at both of them, I added. “But you both knew. Didn’t you? You knew Kreturus was still in Collin. What I saw in the Underworld wasn’t a hoax. For a while, I thought it was smoke and mirrors—but it wasn’t. You knew that the demon was using Collin to get to me. You knew they fused into the same person.” I stood walking over to Eric. “How could you not tell me?”

  His eyes were glistening. They were not completely gold, but lacking the fire that poured through them earlier. “I suspected, but there was no way to know for sure. Things aren’t obvious. Collin hid it, but the way he acts is almost bipolar sometimes. It made me wonder why. And I doubted that they were the same person until the day you disappeared. Collin did all that. I saw it with my own eyes. Collin started this. More demons followed him into the church, looking for you. I barely held him off long enough for you to escape. Then, when I couldn’t find you,” Eric paused. His eyes shifted back to me. “I thought he killed you. But he didn’t leave. Collin kept burning, and killing, looking for something—looking for you.”

  “That’s why you were there? That’s why you were near the church when I stepped outside?” He nodded once, and instantly averted his eyes. “And you,” I said turning to Lorren. I wanted to kick him for not telling me. I wanted to cause him pain for what he did. “You. You fucking angel—stuck in hell. What’d you forget to tell me, huh?”

  Lorren was still dressed in his black clothes. “I forgot nothing.” He turned his back to me, refusing to say more.

  I shot out of my chair, grabbed his shoulder and screamed in his face. “You were the angel who used the stone! It was you in the first war. You were the warrior who took the brunt of the curse, and you got trapped down here because of it, right?” Lorren’s eyes drifted across my face, to Eric’s, and back. He nodded once. “And the second angel… ” Lorren’s neck snapped in my direction with a warning in his eye, but I kept speaking. There’d been too many secrets. I wouldn’t lend to allowing them to exist any further. “The second angel who used the stone to stop Kreturus is also here, isn’t he?”

  Eric’s face pinched in confusion as he looked from Lorren to me. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tell him,” I said to Lorren. But Lorren just looked up at him with pinched eyes. “I already know. There’s no point in hiding the damn stone. I’m on your side, and if you believed me the first two times I met you, this wouldn’t have happened.” Anger coursed through me and I grabbed onto it like a kite string about to slip away. Spinning on my heel, I swung my arm back and made my fist collide with a wall of golden flowers. I no longer cared what they were or who they were. They were dead. Like everyone else on earth would be if they kept playing games, and hiding things. “Tell him!”

  Lorren’s dark eyes met Eric’s. He sighed, his back slumping, “Satan’s Stone has two parts. They separate after they are used. One half finds the next owner, while the previous half remains with the last owner. The stone knows who it’s destined to go to.” Lorren looked at me, as if to ask if he had to continue. He finally looked back at Eric, and said, “Someone used the stone after me, which is why I no longer have it. Ivy has the one half of Satan’s Stone hanging around her neck—it found her, the way it should have.” Lorren glanced at me as if to ask if I was really sure.

  I nearly bit his head off, “TELL HIM!”

  Lorren bit down, and returned his gaze to Eric. Eric watched the two of us, saying nothing. Lorren finally spit it out, “The second angel who used Satan’s Stone, the angel that was there when they sealed Kreturus into his tomb—was you. You were an angel, Eric. You were a Seraphim, a warrior. The cost of the stone made you mortal. The price was different for you than it was for me. I remember my past life. My wings were ripped off my back and I was hurled into the Underworld to spend the rest of my life. But, you” Lorren said gesturing to Eric, “you had a different destiny. The stone wasn’t finished with you, yet. You were granted humanity, grew up, and were marked as a Martis. Althea, swore to me she’d find you and raise you. She knew who you were, and she knew she’d die by your hand. It was the cost—the cost of the stone. So was everything that happened after. You were one of the few uncorrupt Martis, because you were an angel first. You saw right from wrong, even if they didn’t. You’re a Valefar now, because of… ”

  Eric cut him off, “Because of her.” He glared at me.

  But Lorren rose and stood in front of him, “No. You are alive because of her. You are a Valefar, if you can call it that, because of the cost of the stone. You were put into a perpetual state of change where you can’t control the things around you. You cannot save her. You cannot save anything. You merely survive. That is your curse. That was your cost.” Lorren tilted his head toward me and said, “I have no idea what her cost will be.”

  Eric looked crestfallen. His gaze shifted from Lorren to the floor as he pushed his hands out of his hair. “Nothing’s as it seems, is it?” Lorren shook his head. Eric looked up, “So the other half of the stone is… ”

  “Gone,” I said. “It’s gone. You were the last person to have it. That’s why you had all those notes, Eric. That’s why you knew everything. Your previous lives were forgotten every time your mortality ended. You were reborn with a new life—up until your last birth. You wrote everything of importance down so you wouldn’t forget. How you found that book over th
e centuries is beyond me, but that’s what you did. That’s why you knew what Satan’s Stone was in the first place—you were the last person to use it.” I stood pacing, uncertain what to do next.

  Eric spoke, “There’s no other option then, is there?” I looked over at him. “I have to remember where I put the other half of the stone.”

  “The memories are gone, Eric.” I turned to look back at Lorren. Something he said had just sank into my spinning brain, “What do you mean, he’s a Valefar, if you can call him that?”

  Lorren looked up at me. “Eric’s not a Valefar. He’s been demon kissed, and his soul was stripped away, but he’s not under Kreturus’ control. The rest of the Valefar are. Eric is not. He’s under your control, Ivy.”

  I nearly choked as a laugh ripped out of my stomach. Both boys looked at me like I was nuts. “Eric’s not under anyone’s control.” Lorren started to reply, but I cut him off, “Is Eric’s soul here? Is it in the Pool of Lost Souls?”

  Lorren nodded, “It should be. If you truly drank his soul, and I can sense that you did,” Lorren did not hide his revulsion, “then it’s in the Pool.”

  Eric rose, and took my hand in his. His voice was urgent, “I know what you’re thinking.” He gazed into my eyes. The scent of his blood hit me hard, and I pulled away. Eric turned toward Lorren, “No one can sense us here, within the Lorren, can they?”

  Lorren shook his head, “No. The dead mask the living. This is the only place where they won’t look for you. It’s the only place you can hide, but eventually, I would expect Kreturus to figure it out.

  “The Guardian is dead. All the other points that held the Underworld under the world have been breached. Demons walk in the sun. The sky bleeds, the clouds cry icy drops of blood. It only continues to worsen, unless you kill him, Ivy.” Lorren’s eyes met mine. He doubted me, I could see it on his face.

  My jaw locked. I could blame him forever, but it wouldn’t stop what was happening. It was too late to save the past. Salvaging what was left was the best we could hope for. “Everything would have happened to this point anyway, right?” I asked looking at both of them.

  They nodded. Eric spoke, “This was the prophecy. This was the part that was not preventable.”

  “Then,” I replied, “the rest is still up for grabs, and I’m not going down without a fight. The spell fazed Collin, which means my bargain with Locoicia is broken. If it was my failure, I’d be dead or locked in her throne room. But Im not. I’m standing here staring at you.” Lorren glanced at Eric. They both seemed nervous. “I need to find the stone and end this. I’m not listening to any more fucking demons. Or angels.” I glared at Lorren. “I’m ending this. I don’t care what the cost of the stone is—I’m going to find it, and I’m going to use it. And next time I see Collin, this will end.”

  The 13th Prophecy

  Demon Kissed #5

  Coming

  March 6, 2012

  VALEFAR

  Vol. 1

  By H.M. Ward

  CHAPTER ONE

  369 days before Ivy is attacked on her 17th birthday.

  “Legend states that there were thirteen prophecies that foretold the destruction of the Earth, the annihilation of the Martis and Valefar, and the obliteration of the demon Kreturus…” Jake paused as he always did when he spoke of this with Collin. It didn’t matter how many times they’d talked about it, Collin’s response was always the same.

  Collin turned away from his friend with his arms folded. His dark shirt clung to his chest defining the muscles beneath. He looked side to side; making sure no one was listening. They were backstage in the school’s theater. Long black drapes hung floor to ceiling in front of them and a cement wall was directly behind them.

  Collin didn’t like Jake speaking of this here, now, so he cut him off in a hushed whisper, “And that prophecy infers my death. I know, Jake.”

  Collin knew the prophecy, and he knew more about it than Jake did. However, he kept those comments to himself. The younger Valefar had proved to be trustworthy over time. Well, as much as a Valefar could be trusted. Turning to Jake he saw the worry pinched on his face and the tension that lined his arms—tension that wasn’t normally present in this Valefar.

  Collin’s eyes turned to slits as he stepped toward his friend slowly, “What do you know.” It was a command, not a question.

  Jake was Collin’s second in command. The hierarchy of the Valefar was precarious at best, and more accurately described as a savage blood bath. No other Valefar had ever been able to hold power as long as Collin had, and despite Jake’s age, he knew it. Befriending Collin ensured his longevity. It had occurred to him to keep this information to himself, because if Collin was destroyed, then Jake could take his place. The thought amused Jake. He batted the idea around in his mind, teasing out scenarios that could lead to Jake stealing Collin’s throne. Jake watched the man in front of him. Collin’s power was unnatural and surpassed most by far. It would be suicide to challenge him. No, if there was to be a change in Valefar power this side of Hell, it would be caused by someone other than Jake.

  Shifting his feet, Jake pushed the thoughts aside, feeling Collin’s hard gaze on his face. When he looked at his master, Collin was less than an inch from him. Clearing his throat, Jake looked directly into Collin’s face and reported what he’d learned. “The Martis suspect movement.”

  Collin arched an eyebrow, refolded his arms, and leaned against the stone wall. They were at the high school where Collin spent much of his time in the auditorium. Acting was something Valefar excelled in. It allowed them a tentative escape from their hellish lives. Jake also dabbled with acting, and knew how dangerous it was to approach Collin here, but the information was too important to waste time. Jake had come looking for him when he realized what was happening.

  Collin smiled to himself, as if he couldn’t believe it. “And…”

  Jake leaned closer, his voice not audible to the human ear, “And it’s her—the one who will destroy you and cause the prophecies to fulfill.” He smiled at Collin. “She’s within reach. The Martis rooted her out. I doubt she even knows what she is yet.”

  The two separated as footfalls echoed toward them, one step at a time, from the other side of the dark curtain. Collin nodded at Jake and said, “We’ll discuss this in detail later.” Jake nodded and turned away before he could be seen, and effonated. Collin watched as Jake’s form went hazy. It looked like his entire body had heat billowing off of it, like blacktop in the summer sun before he completely disappeared.

  Collin leaned against the wall, lost in thought with a soft smile lining his lips. He’d spent the past centuries aware of the prophecy and the girl who would condemn him to death, but until now, he’d never had any idea that he could find her. This single girl would be responsible for the greatest disasters known to her kind, and his. She not only brought about his death, and the annihilation of two races of immortals, but she would also be the sole being responsible for creating the apocalypse. Earth was a stepping stone between Hell and Heaven. She would be the cause of another angel demon war—a war he didn’t want to fight. Wars like that had no winners. Collin’s fingers rubbed against his chin. As he was lost in thought the footfalls drew nearer and one of the stage-crew girls rounded the corner.

  Collin pushed himself off the wall, and walked past her. The perky girl was clad in pink from head to toe. She smiled at him, opening her mouth to engage him in a conversation in which he had little interest. Not stopping to indulge her, Collin nodded as he passed and said, “Jenna Marie.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Thoughts of the prophecies consumed Collin. After fumbling his lines beyond belief, he excused himself from rehearsal and walked backstage. Pulling open the metal door that lead to the basement, he walked through and bounced down the steps into the darkness. He could have gone home, but he wanted a chance to think about this on his own. This school was one place where he could be at ease. A new Valefar wouldn’t suddenly show up and attack
him. Valefar were slow and methodical, certain to thoroughly destroy their victims in every way possible.

  Collin rounded the corner at the bottom of the landing. He moved through the darkness with ease and threw his body onto a well-worn couch. Threading his fingers behind his head, he laid there, staring into space thinking about what would happen if he killed the Prophecy One. It couldn’t be that easy. There had to be repercussions to destroying her. Would the prophecy just stop? Collin wasn’t certain. He’d never seen the prophecies himself. He’d only heard stories of them. The Martis were diligently searching for the girl in the first prophecy painting in the series. And Collin was dying to wrap his fingers around it. Not only would the painting show the face of his assassin, but it would also reveal the ancient words that had been forgotten—words he needed to break his bargain with Kreturus. Collin’s chest swelled, and his heart raced at the thought.

  No one knew where Collin’s power came from. The other Valefar assumed he took the throne to the Upperworld the same way any other Valefar had—through blood and deception. Only the most powerful of Valefar survived. Being ruthless was expected, but Collin’s power didn’t come from centuries of battles. It came from a bargain—a bargain that cost him more than he realized. Collin pressed his eyes closed, trying to force back the memory. There were few things that truly terrified him, and this was one of them. Try as he might, it was no use. Thinking of the prophecies conjured the memory.