Impure Bargains (Impure series Book 1)

by Decadent Kane

  ~Impure Bargains~

  Book 1

  Impure Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Impure Bargains

  Copyright © 2015 Decadent Kane

  Proofread by: Amanda Marie

  Cover Art by: Decadent Kane

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  ISBN-13: 978-1514889879

  ISBN-10: 1514889870

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my wonderful Manly Man, without you this book would not have been possible. Thanks to my family and friends who continue to encourage me.

  A special thanks to all my readers for your generous support and love. You always amaze me.

  Chapter One

  The demonic engravings seared her flesh, binding Haven to the one male she despised most: Desiderus. She clenched her jaw, holding back the tears threatening to tumble with the pulse of the mark's burn. The demon's lips quirked up. Haven swallowed the urge to punch him, knocking the grin from his lovely face, and concentrated on calming herself with sure deep breaths. She'd been attracted to the demon from the start of their...adventure, but she hadn't anticipated being bound to the man in such a final matter. He owned her.

  ***

  Four days earlier...

  In Hell everything was scorched, blackened by Lucifer's fire. The walls breathed the flames in and heat radiated out in waves. Desiderus mounted the steps to his king's chambers one at a time. Ash drifted in the air and the smell of burnt flesh wafted up to his nose, reminding him of seared ham. The doors screeched open of their own accord, by demon magic. So much blackened stone all around him, sometimes when he misted to a human's home all the different hues caught him off guard. He wouldn't call them beautiful by any means, but the variety of colors of homes, walls, and carpets broke up the monotony of the burned colors of hell.

  "The human is calling again. It's time to bring him home," Ba'al said. His voice boomed in the open space of the chamber, and echoed from the corners. He sat on the plush cushion of a high back couch. Gold trimmed the arms, and silks of black and gold draped along the back. Ba'al's fat body squished down like a toad. His human head faced Desiderus, while his cat and toad faces blurred away. Ba'al cycled through all three faces at random. A fly buzzed from the left and a quick pink tongue snapped out, pulling the bug into his mouth. Desiderus imagined the crunch and shuddered. He hated it when Ba'al ate flies.

  "Willing? Or are we caging him, my king?" Desiderus asked. He hoped to cage the human. Desiderus enjoyed the capture more when they struggled. Desiderus suppressed his grin. It wouldn't matter either way. Ba'al had summoned and he would obey.

  "Cage." Ba'al's human lips curled up into a sly smile. A piece of the fly's wing was caught in his teeth.

  Desiderus snapped his fingers and dark smoke writhed into the room like a snake. He held out his hand and the smoke curled around his fingers, soaking into his skin. The cool substance weighed heavy in his palm.

  With a wave of Ba'al's clawed hand, the prickling sensation of dimensional travel slithered up Desiderus' legs, moving like gooseflesh over his entire body. In seconds, he found himself standing before a kneeling man. He'd misted right to his target. Oh, how he loved demon magic.

  Light brown carpet sank under the human's knees. Black candles flickered in a semi-circle around the mortal, creating shadows in the man's darkened hair. Desiderus could see the deep purple coloring of the being's soul, ripe for the picking, just like Ba'al enjoyed them. Even his soul had been dark purple when Ba'al captured his human form hundreds of years ago.

  "Please, master, hear my plea. I need—"

  "It is time," Desiderus snarled. The human looked up and cool blue eyes widened in surprise. His cheeks had sunk in from stress. Bags settled under the man's eyes. Humans Ba'al contracted often took on the same haunted look.

  He swallowed and said, "I'm not ready. A few more days. I will give anything..." The man's hands came together as he pleaded. His knuckles turned white with his grip. The desire to be free, to gamble, to do it all again, was heavy on his dark soul. He truly would give anything, but with nothing left to bargain, his soul belonged to Ba'al. Desiderus took a deep breath of the man's sins, pulling them straight from his soul, replenishing his body with the depravities. As a demon, the only true source to replenish his body came from sinners. They felt warm going in. Rejuvenation hit him like adrenaline used to when he was human.

  "There is nothing more for you to give." Desiderus snatched him by the throat. Rotten eggs, the smell of fear, slipped from the human's pores as he choked in Desiderus' hands. "You belong to the king of demons now, mortal." He cocked his head sideways, grinned, and let go of the man on purpose. How he enjoyed a struggle. His body tightened, waiting for the man to retaliate. The smell of piss made Desiderus scrunch his nose. The human backpedaled, coughing and gasping. A wonderful scream launched from his mouth and it was more than music to Desiderus' ears, more than a wonderful melody. It was the screech of defeat, of despair making his black heart internally smile.

  "Jeremy?" A woman's voice called out beyond the closed bedroom door and Desiderus glared toward the voice ruining his fun. With a heavy sigh, he flung his hand out and the black smoke seeped from it, latching onto Jeremy's ankles, slowly engulfing his form. The screaming abruptly stopped as shock set in. His eyes widened in panic and his chest labored as he gulped in air. The doorknob turned, catching Desiderus's attention. Jeremy squirmed sideways, attempting to reach out as the door swung open, but the smoke devoured him and vanished.

  A woman with the same blue eyes as Jeremy stormed into the room, gun in hand, and pointed the metal barrel at Desiderus's heart. Her wild black hair flowed behind her. His body reacted to her petite form, tightening to the sight of her curvy figure. The female scanned the room. When she didn't find what she had been looking for, her eyes bored into Desiderus.

  "What have you done with him?" Her lip curled in a snarl and her teeth clenched.

  He shrugged, glancing out the window into the blackened night. No stars in sight. The female acted as if he should be affected by her words and display of aggression, but he quite enjoyed it. He turned back to the woman. "Jeremy must fulfil his contract." For his amusement, Desiderus let his human glamour fall. The female's lips formed a surprised 'O', and the image of those pouty pink lips around his shaft made him groan internally. He'd come back for her, perhaps play with her a while, then sink himself deep inside her depths.

  Her aura showed a cream color, the color of truth, of light. She was mostly free of sins—well, sins that would drag her to hell anyway—which was a true shame. The things he could do to her, make her feel...He licked his lips and the light pink color of lust tinged her aura, showing him her desire. She was aroused by him and he very much liked the idea.

  "Demon..." The gun shook in her hand. A click and resounding bang reached his ears and he shimmered as the bullet passed right through him as if he'd been a ghost. It hit the wall behind him with a thud.

  "Human..." Desiderus said in return. Despite his demon hearing, the echoed ring of the gun going off didn't bother him. He suspected though it would bother the human female.

  "I want my brother back." She didn't seem shocked the bullet had failed to harm him, continuing to keep the barrel aimed.

  "Demands, commands, reprima
nds...do you know what they all have in common?"

  She shook her head as tears slid down her cheeks, but she hadn't sobbed or cried out. They were a silent voice to the anger permeating around her. He found her lack of fear...beautiful.

  "When you have the answer...call upon me. Then we can discuss his return."

  "You give me riddles?" She stomped her petite foot, and if any humanity still existed inside him, he would have considered it cute.

  "I enjoy games." Desiderus folded his hands. "Tell me your name."

  The female clenched her jaw. Her creamy soul brightened around her body. A burning pain flushed over his face, but he didn't flinch or look away. Pure, untainted soul. A strange longing opened in his chest and he brought his hand up to rub it.

  "You'll use it against me."

  "You're right." He smirked moving beside her, so fast she jumped when he touched the soft strands of her hair. A strawberry scent filled his nostrils, and he inhaled it deeply, as if he never wished to be rid of it. She stilled as his rough fingertips barely grazed her soft skin. She was warm to his cool hands and Desiderus imagined how pliant her flesh would feel beneath him. His cock hardened as he fantasized digging his fingers in and pulling her toward him, slamming into her over and over.

  The woman spun and put the barrel of the gun to his head. The cool blue of her eyes promised pain. He flashed her a wicked grin as she leveled the gun at his head.

  Chapter Two

  Haven pulled the trigger for the second time this evening only to have the demon vanish. She balled her empty hand into a fist and struck out at the wall. "Son of a bitch!" It hurt like a mother. Brilliant idea. The sharp throb of the force radiated through her hand and she shook it out. How had she let him steal her brother? She disliked the creatures and one taking her brother had her bordering on despising demons. Haven stood in the silent room. Her chest heaved and she took deep solid breaths calming the pounding of her heart. The candles extinguished by some unknown force, perhaps whatever magic the demon used when he left.

  A dirty yellow glow shone through the window, enough to make out part of her brother's unmade bed and the dark powers he'd been messing with. Including the demon grimoire she'd found when she took over her parent's house at seventeen. She could have sworn she'd hid the damn thing well enough, yet he somehow managed to get his hands on it. After Gena died, Jeremy was all she had left of her family. Him and nightmares. Nightmares of the night their parents died...

  It wasn't the impact, or how it felt when the car spun off the icy road, that kept Haven awake at night, but more the fight before it happened...

  Jeremy had screamed his little head off next to her, barely seven years old. His small legs kicked out in frustration. Haven remembered smiling and pinching him a second time just because she could. He always pulled her hair or dumped something gross on her, and this was her revenge. He'd poured his juice in her lap that night.

  "Next time don't dump your drink on me." She'd glared at her brother, feeling smug because he couldn't get away from her due to the seat belt. Looking back, though, Jeremy was just a normal boy who had followed his big sister around like a puppy-dog seeking her attention. What came next had haunted her nightmares ever since.

  Her normally calm father, with his dark slicked back hair, actually yelled at her...

  "Haven Marie! You're his older sister. Your actions influence him. Why would you hurt your brother? Look here girl."

  Haven had found her father's harsh blue gaze in the review mirror.

  "I'm driving and you're being a distraction. Knock off the shit." His voice was hard. Tears had sprung to her eyes, racing down hot cheeks, but she refused to look away.

  "Charles!" Haven's mother said.

  "What?" He had sounded exasperated.

  "Don't curse at her like that!" Her mother had looked back at Haven, ready to say something when her father interrupted.

  "Seriously? It's hard enough concentrating on roads that should have already been de-iced without you two ganging up on me." He had turned to address her mother directly, taking his eyes from the road for mere seconds. The wheel had turned with him, the car followed.

  It all happened in slow motion until the spinning started. The crunch of metal hitting the side rail, the ground, and rocks, buzzed in Haven's ears. The blood floated for a few seconds before her eyes, and then a breathtaking jolt, darkness, and silence. It had all been her fault.

  She'd managed to survive with mainly small cuts and bruising, but when the light hit her skin just right across her arms and face, then the shiny, tiny scars were noticeable. At least to her.

  Then there was Gena, mother's best friend. She'd taken them in, moved into their house to keep them as stable as possible, but in the end it boiled down to one thing. No matter who was in their life, Jeremy would always be her responsibility.

  Haven tried to remember more about their parents, more of the way they lived. How her mom's dark hair floated when she cast spells from the grimoire or how her dad's eyes changed colors when he called on his magic as a warlock.

  Magic ran in their bloodline, but not every person in the family could use the grimoire or produce mystic abilities. It acted more like a genetic disorder, affecting certain people in the family with the dominant genes. Haven hadn't been so blessed. She could do some spells, but her gifts never revolved around actual magic. Jeremy on the other hand could do many things with his magic, just not pay off debts.

  The tears spilled and she fell hard on her knees. Her jeans dug into her skin. Haven dropped the gun beside her and replayed the events. The horrific scream, sounding as if Jeremy had been tortured, the black smoke consuming her brother when she managed to get in the room, and the demon. Anger pooled in her stomach, bubbling like lava.

  She didn't know the demon was a creature. He had a well done glamour making him look human, with brown hair falling over his forehead and wide shoulders. Usually she could see past their glamour, a gift in her bloodline. He must be old for a demon, in the hundreds at least. His demon form was remarkably different from other demons she'd observed. While those she'd seen had short black horns, he had snow-white horns sliding back along his head, thick as her slender arm contrasting against black hair, and his eyes were the deepest shade of purple she'd ever seen. All demon eyes were purple, but his were nearly black. She hadn't laid eyes on his forked tongue, but all demons had one.

  The rest of him, human. Peach flesh. Straight white teeth. Broad shoulders... Haven shook her head, trying to rid herself of the attraction she continued to feel just by thinking of him. She cringed. The attraction shouldn't be there. He hadn't worn a shirt and she'd aimed for his heart, knowing full well he wouldn't be injured. She'd managed to come in contact with lesser demons before, but she had no true idea how to kill the bastards. Shooting him just felt good.

  "Damnit!" Haven knocked all the candles down in one long sweep of her arms. Why would Jeremy do this? Taking a deep breath, she spotted the grimoire again. She would find the demon and he would pay for taking Jeremy.

  The grimoire was heavy in her hands, just as the first time she'd held it. She'd been up in the attic going through mother's keepsake box. Aunt Gena must have packed the grimoire inside for safekeeping. Haven had picked it up, needing both hands for her teen form to actually hold onto the spell book. She'd cried over it, tears spilling down her cheeks and dropping onto the front cover before she even knew she was crying.

  Haven shook off the memory, calming herself. She stepped over strewn candles and out of her brother's room, clutching the book to her chest as if it were the only lifeline left to Jeremy.

  The hallway had hardly any light. She stormed all the way to the end, past her room, their parents' room, and the guest room, to the kitchen, letting the boiling pit in her stomach steel her nerves, calming her desperate need to help Jeremy. A twenty five year old she'd been taking care of, helping with his addictions. She should have known magic would be one of them. Why didn't I know? It was the only expl
anation for Jeremy messing around with the grimoire and dirty demons. She could have gotten him help, maybe set up an M. A. meeting for him. Plenty of people had an addiction to magic, and many of them had found ways to cope.

  Her lip curled up and she dropped the book on the wood table with a resounding thud. Flipping to the summoning section, she tried to remember the creature's riddle. He had wanted to know what was common among a set of...words. She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched her nose. What were the fucking words?

  She pictured the beast in her head, his horns, his mouth moving, the scene in the bedroom...grasping at the images, her mind searched for his riddle. Demands, commands...and... She held her breath. One more word...one more...reprimand! Her eyes popped open in triumph. Common, they were all actions, but it didn't fit right as an answer. Demons twisted things, seeing them in their own sinister view. What would a demon see in those words?

  Haven stared at the summoning spell on the page, her focus going in and out as she tried to think of what the answer could be. They all ended in 'd' but that didn't feel right either. Snatching an opened envelope and a pen from the table, she wrote the words down. Slowly, finding the rhythm in her writing, the flow of thought from head to pen to page. By the time she started the third word, the answer came to her. Each one had 'man' in it. An ache formed in the bottom of her chest, the sensation of knowing whatever was about to happen would not be good.

  Dirty Deeds by AC/DC rang in the silence. Haven jumped and looked at the cell phone sitting on the counter. It was the ringtone she'd labeled for work. Groaning, she walked over to the counter and pressed the answer button on the screen. Leaning back, she took in the sight of her kitchen at random. The yellow flower tiles behind the stove across from her, dark wood cabinets she had sanded and rehung herself. The sink of dishes reminding her she had everyday life stuff to take over on top of all the unnatural.