Demon Bones: The Soul Series Book 2

by D. S. O'Neill

  Demon Bones

  D.S. O’Neill

  Copyright © 2019 D.S. O’Neill

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition, 2019 D.S. O’Neill

  Editing by D.S. O’Neill

  To my daughter.

  Let’s go read a book together.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 1

  “Did you know you are a complete fucking asshole, topped with a dollop of sadism?” Ria muttered through a wheeze as she glared up at Jace from her sprawled out position on the floor mat.

  “Yup. Get up. We’re going again, until you get this.”

  If Ria were to look back on her life between episodes of getting the shit kicked out of her by an unholy bastard of a fallen angel, she would probably never be able to point out exactly where her life went wrong. Was it when her mother died? Or perhaps when her father began calling her obscene things, convinced she was the epitome of all things unholy? Or maybe the first abusive foster family she was forced to reside with? Or could it possibly even be the moment she met the DeMonas brothers, although ‘brother’ was an admittedly loose term for the two angels and two demons she now lived with on a full-time basis. ‘Brother from another mother’ might fit.

  Perhaps her life went wrong the moment she was born. After all, a creature like her was never supposed to exist. Half Nephilim, half cambion, all bitch. Well…half bitch. But only when un-caffeinated.

  “Up. Let’s go again.” Jace’s deep voice broke through her exhausted musings, his golden eyes boring into her with their usual brilliant intensity. Damn angels.

  “Stop swearing at me in your head and get up.”

  Rolling her eyes and more than a little perturbed that he could see through her so well, Ria heaved herself up off the floor, wincing as pain flooded through her over-used limbs. “I’m never gonna be able to block you or take you down, ya know. You’re, like, twice my size, Big A. Your nickname isn’t a joke, bruh.”

  “Stop calling me bruh. I’m not your bruh.”

  “Dude? Buddy? Broseph?”

  “I don’t even understand that.”

  Ria’s hand suddenly shot out as she aimed a punch at Jace’s jaw. Quick as lightening, Jace had her spun around with her stomach against the wall and her arm behind her back, his full weight pushing her into the hard surface. Whoa…

  “Good effort, Ria. Surprise moves are going to be important for you. Look for any opening you can get. Now, you need to learn to prepare for a counter-attack.”

  “Bite me, Big A.”

  Nothing in the world would have prepared her for the soft nibble she felt on the slope of her neck, or for the tingle that vibrated through her body at the connection. It was the briefest of contacts, and if it weren’t for Jace’s next words, she most likely would have written it off as some fantasy brought on by her state of exhaustion.

  “Don’t tempt me, Arianne.” He whispered softly before releasing her and stepping back.

  “AAAAAAAAND that’s my cue! I think I hear breakfast calling! Toodle-loo!” Ria blabbered as she dashed out of the refurbished barn and into the cool, mind-clearing autumn air.

  “Ria! We’re not done here!” Jace’s firm voice bellowed after her. “We have to keep going until you can—“

  “NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT.” Ria screamed back at him in blatant irritation.

  This entire situation unsettled her. She had very little experience in the realm of all things intimate, and what little experience she did have was…unfortunate, to say the least. All things intimate led to all things vulnerable, and if there was anything Ria had learned in her life, it was that vulnerability was a weakness. Weaknesses could and would be exploited at any cost. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and she needed to keep all her cards close to the chest, especially now, when she didn’t have her—

  Nope. Not thinking about it.

  Ria dashed across the open field that separated the barn-turned-sparring-gym-slash-weight-lifting-gym from the boys’ large cabin. It was still as gorgeous as the first time she saw it, and in the early morning light, it called to her with promises of bacon, morning coffee, and no talking about…stuff.

  Stuff that she certainly wasn’t thinking about.

  Any stuff. All stuff. Stuff is bad. All the stuffs is bad.

  Throwing the back door open, she inhaled the scent of coffee and bacon, her stomach rumbling its grievances against her decision to not eat before training with Jace. He was a drill sergeant when it came to training, and one of the first things he’d demanded (yes, you heard right, demanded, that rat bastard) of Ria was that she not eat before training. Apparently, sometimes people throw up. Like, actually throw up. And considering the fact that Ria hadn’t worked out since, ya know…ever…throwing up was a very real possibility. And a very embarrassing possibility.

  And it had nearly happened. Several times. It was appalling. Throwing up in front of a hot guy? Not on her bucket list.

  If I never see a gym again, it’ll be too soon.

  “Hey, Red Hot, where’s the fire?” Dax’s smiling face and sparkling leaf-green eyes greeted her as she rushed into the back door of the cabin. He deftly transferred more sizzling hot bacon from the pan he was cooking in onto a plate already brimming with the crispy goodness.

  “In the barn, with the asshole who won’t let me eat before training.”

  “You really wanna throw this ambrosia back up? Sounds like a waste if you ask me.” Dax snickered at her.

  “Well fine, if you’re gonna throw logic in there…” She huffed in response, grabbing the coffee cup she’d drunk from earlier that morning. Coffee was a non-negotiable product, which Jace had quickly learned straight out the door after the first morning of complete and total disappointment in which he tried to train a non-caffeinated and basically useless Ria. She’d fallen asleep on her feet. Twice. There was even a little drool involved, though she’d never admit to it.

  “Just call me the Logic King.” Grabbing the carafe of coffee, Dax poured the miracle drink smoothly into Ria’s mug. She held the mug to her nose and basked in the energizing aroma before ever so slowly tipping it into her mouth, savoring the bitter bite that sent a blast to her senses, instantly revitalizing her. A soft sound that was half moan and half sigh escaped as she closed her eyes in pleasure.

  “Damn. If I had that on video, I’d make so much money loading it onto YouTube.” Her eyes flew open to find Dax watching her with amusement and some other unidentifiable emotion in his eyes.

  She flipped him off as she took another large sip of her coffee, never once breaking eye contact. His only response was a deep chuckle as he moved to grab a plate and fill it with bacon and eggs.

  “So how was training today?”

  “Same as every other day. I never knew hell had so many levels. Dante clearly had no idea what he was talking about.”

  Dax’s gaze slid over to her as he loaded a second plate with eggs and bacon, presumably for Jace, whenever he decided to get over his bitchy fit and come to the house. “You know the only reason he’s doing this is because you haven’t been able to use—“

  “LA LA LA LA LA. I CAN’T HEAR YOU. I’M STEALING THIS PLATE OF DELICIOUSNESS AND GOING UPSTAIRS.” Ria scream-sang at the top
of her lungs as she grabbed a fork to compliment the stolen plate of food and all but ran through the living room and up the stairs.

  Just as she reached the top, she heard the back door of the cabin open and then slam closed. “Where is she?” Jace’s deep voice rumbled through the cabin. She struggled not to giggle as she turned, hidden from the kitchen by the upper level, not feeling the least bit guilty about eavesdropping. What a funny word. Dropping around the eaves. What even is an eave? And how does one drop around it? I should Google that shit.

  “She ran off to her sanctuary, so no following this time, Jace.” Dax’s smooth response drifted up to the second level. She smiled. Thank every power that was, is, and ever will be that she’d placed those rules into effect when she first agreed to move in with them. After all, living with a bunch of guys? A girl needs a place she knows will never be invaded by the testosterone team. A place that they cannot and will not barge into. A place to feel…safe. It had been number one on her list of rules that was currently taped to the door of the refrigerator. Rule number two—she has first dibs on the bathroom, always. Rule number three—on Supernatural night, the TV is hers. End of subject. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.

  Cade put up a bit of a fight with rule number two. Apparently, his perfectly coiffed hair and metro-sexual style took some time to put together each day. There was a part of her that kinda wanted to watch.

  Rule number four—never, ever see Ria naked. Anyone who does is allowed to get the shit beat of them by the other three guys.

  The guys all agreed to that one in a heartbeat, which was a bit of a shot to her ego. I mean, they could have put up SOME argument…grumble, grumble.

  Jace’s deep voice, rumbling like the growl of classic muscle car, broke through her musings. “She can’t keep avoiding this. With what’s going on with her…”

  Okay, that was more than enough hearing about ‘stuff’. She didn’t like to hear about ‘stuff’.

  Whirling around, she had just enough time to throw up a hand (after realizing she still held a plate full of food in the other) as a shield before she smacked directly into a wall of solid, golden skin. Bare skin. Bare, damp skin. Bare, damp, male skin. Holy Greek Adonis…

  “Wha…” Was all she could manage before looking up into Tallen’s half amused, half irritated deep blue eyes.

  “And what are you running from, kitty cat? I thought you didn’t run from anything.”

  Ria’s mind was in a jumble at the feel of Tallen’s smooth, solid chest beneath her hand. She had to physically hold herself back from running her hand down to feel the prominent edges of his defined abdominal muscles. She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out.

  One of Tallen’s chestnut brown eyebrows rose in question. “Kitty cat?”

  Open, close, open, close, went Ria’s mouth, like a fish struggling to breathe on land but failing spectacularly, doomed to suffer a miserable death by the hands of suffocation. Suffocation. Had she breathed lately? She couldn’t remember for sure.

  Tallen’s gaze slowly dropped to her mouth, as if of its own accord, and stayed there.

  “…can I ask you a question?” His gaze was still focused on Ria’s lips as he spoke, like a lion watching its prey, never faltering even once.

  Ria nodded, her gaze now glued to Tallen’s own full lips, not entirely sure when her eyes had fastened to them.

  “About your powers—”

  She pushed away from him so fast she almost threw herself over the railing directly behind her. “NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. FUCKIN’ NOPE.” With that, she darted around Tallen, dodging his grabbing hands in the process (maybe that training was working after all) and desperately clutching her plate of food before throwing herself into her sanctuary (known in normal circles as her bedroom) and slamming the door closed.

  Belittling herself internally, Ria whirled around, slammed her plate of bacon and eggs on her dresser, then threw herself onto her bed, letting loose a frustrated scream into the bedspread covered mattress. She wouldn’t think about it. She couldn’t think about it. Not that. Certainly not that.

  She knew, she KNEW, that she would get her powers back soon.

  Chapter 2

  Ria woke from a hideous dream about suddenly becoming allergic to bacon to the sound of her cell phone buzzing and chiming next to her. Grumbling quietly, she reached over and grabbed her phone, hitting the volume button to silence it without lifting her head up. She really needed to stop with these late nights on YouTube. They were killing her beauty sleep. Also, her training sleep. Her sleep in general.

  After a few moments, her phone chimed again. She swore, finally lifting her head and turning the cell phone so she could see which bastard was bothering her. She didn’t exactly have any friends, particularly after she had turned in her one-week notice (two weeks were for pussies) to Maria, who had faithfully dogged her with questions for the entire week before Ria finally spilled that she’d made friends and was getting a better place to live. By the look in her eyes, Maria had wanted to say more, but she’d had the keen intelligence to keep her mouth shut. While Maria was definitely the closest thing to a friend that Ria had, they weren’t exactly the ‘sharing’ type. Or, well…Maria was, but the most Ria would say about herself was that she was getting more than enough food (as if her curvy figure could argue otherwise) every time Maria tried to force more cheese enchiladas on her. The drive to and from the restaurant was simply too much…especially since she didn’t even own a car. Actually, if she were being honest, she’d never even LEARNED how to drive. But really, how hard could it be? They did it all the time on the telly.

  But now…she had four friends. Four bastard-y friends who liked to torture her with training, and pester about stuff she didn’t wanna talk about, and one of whom was texting her at this very moment.

  Swiping her phone screen to unlock it, she read the text from her favorite sandy blonde (or rather, the only sandy blonde she knew who made her bacon and coffee every morning and was, henceforth, her favorite).

  Dax: Get up, Red Hot. You have a mission.

  Oh boy. Another one of Dax’s infamous scavenger hunts. Glancing at the clock, she realized they’d let her sleep for almost 2 hours. It was now 10 am

  Ria: What’s my incentive?

  Dax: Maple bacon crack. Every. Piece. For. You.

  Ria’s mouth instantly began watering. Maple bacon crack was the greatest recipe ever created and placed on Pinterest, involving crescent rolls flattened out, maple syrup, brown sugar, and, of course, BACON. TONS. OF. BACON.

  Ria: Done. Give it to me.

  Dax: Number 1—go ballroom dancing with Cade.

  That was pretty easy. She wasn’t exactly what you’d call graceful, but she’d be able to fake it at least. Probably. Hopefully.

  Dax: Number 2—go to the shooting range to fire a gun with Jace.

  What the shit?! She’d probably accidentally shoot herself! Did they really expect her to survive that? But…knowing Jace, he’d probably make her memorize every single firearm safety rule in existence before even letting her set eyes on a gun. Okay, that made her feel a smidge better.

  Dax: Number 3—get a tattoo with Tallen.

  Oh, hells yes. Tattoos ahoy! She was so down for the tattoo shop.

  Dax: Finally, number 4—give me a massage. My last hike was hell.

  Her eyebrows rose at that. Weren’t angels supposed to be, like, invincible? Why would he need a massage? Did angels get sore muscles? How were angels built? So, so many questions. Professor Google, we need an appointment.

  The vision of Tallen’s bare chest flitted across her mind. If Dax was built anything like him…holy snickerdoodles. That could be a very dangerous situation. But Dax would most likely be a gentleman, especially if he were actually as sore as he made himself out to be…right?

  Ria: That better be a full-size maple bacon crack, mister.

  Dax: Scout’s honor.

  Ria: You were a boy scout?

  Dax: No, but I k
new one once. I think I’d qualify.

  Ria: …I literally do not even know what to say to that. Mission accepted.

  Dax: Yay!

  Rolling her eyes, Ria rolled off the bed and headed to the bathroom to shower of the hell sweat from her training that morning. Wincing, she realized her bedspread had probably soaked up a good deal of that sweat as she slept.

  Yaaaay. More laundry. Why didn’t they have a robot that did all your laundry for you?

  Stupid smart people.

  *************************

  Two hours later, Ria and Cade pulled up to a small, downtown dance studio. In all reality, it was probably the only dance studio. After all, they didn’t have a Starbuck’s in the god-forsaken place. One, single coffee shop, yes, that you had to WALK INTO (it’s called a drive-thru, people) but no Starbuck’s. Am I asking for much? I think not.

  “I heard they will be constructing a Starbuck’s at the corner of 1st and Ellis in the next few months.” Cade’s honey-whiskey voice spoke up.

  Well shit. We’re really moving up in life.

  Ria’s gaze turned to him before they exited the vehicle. “So, we’re all clear that I am the most ungraceful person in existence, right? Like, for real. I think you should be wearing steel-toed boots for this. And I should probably get a helmet. Like, a full-on biker’s helmet. You know, protect the assets…maybe I should get a boob helmet too…”

  Cade coughed slightly, glancing at her side ways, seemingly a little awkward at her mentioning of her breasts. No one could ever say he was anything less than a gentleman, poor guy. He needed to break out of his stuffy shell a little bit.

  “And that is part of the reason why we’re doing this, to better your reflexes and mobility.”

  “Part of the reason?”

  “Well, Jace also requested it.”

  Ria blinked in shock as they both exited the car, shutting the door quietly as she considered this new piece of information. “Why…why would Jace want me to take dance lessons? What am I gonna do, plie an attacker to death?”