Dark Paradise: A Revelation Series Novel (The Revelation Series Book 6)

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  I tilt my head. “I know Ophelia, the queen of the woodland realm. I’m sure she has a handle on it. The water and woodland realms have been close allies. She’ll know how to handle Oren, and whatever treachery the water realm is up to. That said, Farica’s whispered death is just another questionable act within our world. If the protectors are in danger, or being used as pawns, we need to know. Because if we don’t stop the bleeding, the supernatural world will be at war, and the gargoyles won’t exist to fight or protect.”

  “And the exact location of the demonic copy of the treaty?” Alderic asks.

  “It’s in a grimoire guarded by the seventy-two demons of the Goetia,” I answer.

  “Fire and brimstone!” Locryn snaps.

  “We’ll be vastly outnumbered,” Alderic states.

  “Aye.” A familiar Irish brogue replies.

  We all turn our attention to Branna, watching as she approaches the group.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I grit out.

  “I asked her to come,” Nassa’s husky voice states.

  “Why?”

  “Word around town is you’re having trouble finding her G-spot,” Branna retorts.

  “The fuck—” I take a step toward Nassa’s friend.

  The sorceress steps in front of me, grabbing my upper arms, preventing me from snapping. “Listen to me. Once we do find the grimoire, it will be sealed with dark magic.”

  “And?” I manage out of a tight jaw.

  “We’ll need a sorceress who can not only wield dark magic”—she pauses, looking over at her friend—“but who knows the dark arts. She can uncharm and decode the treaty.”

  I stare down into her eyes before I raise my gaze over her shoulder to Branna.

  The witch gives me a slow five-finger wave.

  Christ! I hate when Nassa is right.

  “Also, I happen to know how many demons are in each circle and the location of their treasure vaults.” With a few steps, Branna joins the group. “Being a practitioner of the dark arts has its advantages, such as locator spells that bypass upper-level demons’ protection charms.”

  Frustrated, I rub my hands over my face. “Fine. You can help. On two conditions.”

  “Which are?”

  “One, don’t get yourself killed or caught. And two, don’t speak until spoken to first.”

  “Your divine wisdom and proclamations are breathtaking,” she goads.

  I take another aggressive step toward her. “I want you to listen very carefully. I don’t want you here. Nassa does. I don’t trust you. Or like you. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist. If you cross me, in any way, you’ll fucking regret it. Now, step back.”

  “Is that a request?”

  “An order.”

  “I’m here to help Nassa. Not you—”

  I hold my up my hand. “What did I say about speaking?”

  “Branna, is it?” Locryn smiles and pulls her closer to him. “Nice to meet you.”

  “We’ve met before,” she mutters.

  “Have we?”

  ‘Twice. At court.”

  He shrugs. “I don’t recall.”

  “One of the meetings involved punishing your king after the dragon shifters lent the hellhounds a considerable sum,” Branna reminds. “All of which you failed to pay back.”

  Locryn bursts out laughing. “That’s right. You turned him into a kitten.”

  “Glad to see the irony wasn’t lost on you,” Branna sighs.

  “And the second time?” Locryn flirts.

  “Your betrothal announcement.” She smirks and steps closer to Itzy.

  Itzy rolls her eyes at Locryn and shakes her head in annoyance at his stupidity.

  I move into the middle of the group, taking control. “Let’s try to focus on why we are actually here,” I suggest. “Each of us will be assigned twelve Goetia demons, which means twelve treasure vaults to search. There is a hidden entrance into the demonic realm in each of your dimensions. Since you’re all of royal, non-divine blood, I know all of you can cross the gateways without any issues, which is why I specifically asked you here.”

  “In addition to our ties to the underworld?” Locryn asks.

  “Exactly. The hellhounds are protectors of the demons and the gates. Therefore, you can leverage your charm and relationship with your twelve to get into their vaults.”

  “Good deal,” he responds.

  “Same with you, Alderic. The dragon shifters share a love of greed and theft. The twelve demons you’ll be assigned to have a fondness of those traits, which means it should be easy for you to maneuver your way into their circle and seek out the grimoire.”

  “Understood.” He nods.

  “The kitsune aren’t allies with the demonic realm,” Itzy states.

  “No. But twelve of these demons are womanizers. And you, Itzy, are a sly fox.”

  She folds her arms over her chest. “Are you using me as bait to dupe male demons?”

  “Some of them are female,” I point out.

  “Still,” she sighs. “Insulting.”

  “You’re a kitsune. You lure them with your good looks, then outfox them.”

  “Fine.”

  “Okay. I’ll take the twelve that have ties to the lion spirit. Nassa will take the twelve that serve Asmodeus, and Branna, you can handle the remaining twelve. Can’t you?”

  “In my sleep.” She squints her eyes at me.

  “If you find the grimoire,” Nassa interrupts. “You need to alert Branna right away, so she can join you in the vault and remove the charm. Only dark magic will remove it.”

  “You each have telepathic gifts,” I point out. “Use them to communicate.”

  “Won’t the demons sense Branna’s magic?” Itzy asks.

  “Not if it’s dark,” Nassa replies.

  “Once the charm is unlocked, illusion magic will need to be used to replace the book, so the demons don’t see that it’s missing,” I add. “Itzy can take care of that.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” Locryn replies.

  “When do you want us to cross over?” Alderic asks.

  “Tomorrow night,” I tell him. “If the demons catch on, and lash out, nighttime is best so we can control whatever collateral damage they may cause in the mortal realm,” I point out. “On that note, we need to tread carefully. We don’t want the divine learning about what we’re doing.” I look around the group. “We rise and fall on this one together.”

  12

  Something to Prove

  NASSA

  I look down at my hands, staring at the ring my coven gifted to me. The fire in the hearth dances, causing shadows that make the stone appear black. Dark. Like my demon bloodline. On some level, I suppose we all have darkness inside us. Some of us give in to it. Others fear it. All my life, those who’ve loved me have protected me from the immorality running through my veins. Lately, though, I’m starting to wonder if there will come a day when I lose my soul and embrace the immoral side of my lineage.

  With an exhale, I squeeze my eyes shut before opening them and looking down at the enormous ancient book in my lap. All day, I’ve been hiding away in the bookstore, reading and learning the dark art spells. Branna may not be able to get to the shifter who finds it in time, and there’s no magical reason I can’t wield these spells. Only a moral one.

  “Here.” Branna hands me a cup of tea over my shoulder.

  Looking up, I offer her a grateful smile and take it. As I do, she lifts the front cover of the book, tilting her head as she reads the title. With a sigh, she drops the cover, and her eyes meet mine. She walks over to the other oversized chair near the fire and curls up in it, watching me as I take a sip of the lavender tea, allowing it to relax me.

  “What are you doing, lass?” she asks quietly.

  My gaze drops to the book, then lifts to her. “Knowledge is power.”

  Without saying anything, she holds my gaze. A disappointed look crosses her face.

  “You do r
ealize there is no way in hell I’m going to let you cast any of those spells.”

  I smile at her sadly. “It’s not for you to decide. No matter how much I love you.”

  She sighs. “I love you too, which is why I can’t let you do this.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?” I challenge.

  “You have nothing to prove.”

  “I do have something prove,” I growl.

  “What?” she asks harshly. “What is it you’re trying to prove by doing this?”

  “That I’m capable of controlling the darkness in me,” I admit in a quiet murmur.

  My admission hangs between us as she searches my face, considering what I’ve said.

  “And what if you aren’t?” she asks gently.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Dark magic is unruly.”

  “You control it, Bran.”

  “I don’t have demon blood running in my veins,” she counters. “It’s not as easy for me to get lost in it. Consumed by it. There is nothing in me that will switch on if flipped.”

  “Is that why you agreed to help me, so I wouldn’t go over to the dark side?”

  Her eyes flash with fury. “I agreed to help so you wouldn’t have to do . . . this.” She waves her hand at the spell book, annoyed with both me and what I’m doing.

  I grit my teeth. “What if you can’t release the charm? Or what if you need help?”

  Branna doesn’t flinch, or smile, or laugh. “I won’t. I can release it.”

  “Your ego is irritating.” I clench my jaw.

  Branna leans forward, rolling her eyes. “My ego is exciting. Your stubbornness is what’s irritating,” she snaps, then adds, “And so is your gargoyle boyfriend.”

  “He isn’t my—” I stop myself. “Stop making me choose. I love you both.”

  “You love him more.” Her accusing gaze meets mine over her steaming mug.

  I frown. “This isn’t just about Gage.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “So you aren’t about to walk through Hell for him?”

  “You’re being literal.”

  “Since when do you dabble in the dark arts, Llughnassad?” She looks like she’s about to explode. “After everything your family and coven have done to prevent you from becoming like your father, you’re studying how to wield dark spells. To help him?” she says. “I see the toll it’s taking on you to love him. You pretend that things are okay. That you aren’t worried about him. And each time he rejects you, I’m the one who watches as you pretend not to be wrecked, after all you do is love and try to help him. How is this any different than what you’ve been doing all along with him? For him?”

  I fall silent, sipping more tea as I ponder her words.

  They hurt, mainly because she’s right.

  Somewhere along the line, my world became consumed with Gage.

  “Tell me, does he love you?” she asks.

  “Does it matter in this situation?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  “He loves me as much as he’ll allow himself to.”

  “You’re better than this, lass,” she says with an irritated sigh. “Stop allowing yourself to be slightly loved and used for personal gain by someone who is incapable of returning your affections.”

  My chest aches at her accusation. “That isn’t what I’m doing.”

  “Then explain to me what it is you’re doing with that dark grimoire.”

  “Trying to keep the balance within the supernatural worlds,” I push out quickly.

  Her eyebrows shoot up as she leans back in the chair, considering me for a moment before speaking. “All right. You have my attention. Now use more words.”

  “The levels of treachery have been growing within the supernatural realms. This is always the narrative. The divine and demonic realms fight, the mortal world gets stuck in the middle, and those of us in the supernatural world end up sorting it out.”

  “And?”

  “And now, the supernatural realms are taking sides.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The Kingdom of the Fae fell when Lady Finella mated with Asmodeus—siding with the demonic realm. The divine stepped in and killed her, Branna. Arabella and the veiled priestesses were slaughtered in the Temple of the Seven High Priestesses for helping the gargoyles safeguard a divine soul, Eve. The Eternal Forest doesn’t exist anymore; it disappeared into ash when their blood was spilt. Now the woodland and water realms, the lifeblood of the mortal world, are about to go to war because it’s rumored that the empress was beheaded by her dead mate’s cousin. If they go to war, the mortals will not have water or air. The gargoyle race was created to protect mortals. Protect the realms. If the divine have somehow leveraged their existence for peace with the demonic dimension, there will be no one to watch over the balance. Don’t you see? It’s all connected.”

  “And if the gargoyles cease to exist, so will Gage.”

  I lick my lips. “Possibly.”

  “So all this is actually about him.”

  “Branna, you aren’t listening.”

  “I am. Even if what you say is true, it’s not your battle to fight.”

  “It’s all of our battle to fight,” I argue.

  “Not with dark magic and the dark arts, Nassa.”

  “The only way to fight darkness is with darkness,” I dispute.

  “Jesus, lass. It’s like talking to a brick wall,” she spits out, aggravated. “How the hell do you know there is demonic darkness in control of all of this—supernatural drama?”

  “Gage.”

  “Gage,” she repeats on a bark-laugh. “Of course. He says the sky is orange, it’s orange.”

  “He went to the Isle of Darkness recently to gain counsel from Siobhan.”

  “It’s not shocking, really.” Her tone is full of sarcasm. “That he would seek counsel from an Unseelie queen.” Branna holds my gaze. “One who rules over devil fairies.”

  Ignoring her, I blurt out, “Siobhan’s half-sister, Kupuva, is my uncle’s new mate.”

  Branna swallows tightly and looks away before snapping her gaze back to mine.

  “Kupuva is using dark magic to create a demonic army,” I continue. “An army that serves only Asmodeus. Entities that are doing his bidding with the dark arts.”

  Her eyes narrow as she blows out a long, understanding breath. “And the only way to infiltrate the divine is from within,” she surmises. “Asmodeus knows what’s in the treaty. He’s preparing for it by creating an army, behind Lucifer’s back, mind you.”

  “An army that can wield dark magic, with Kupuva at the lead.”

  “What you are talking about is—”

  “The end of existence for all of us.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “So you see, it doesn’t matter if I’m consumed by the darkness, because I dabbled in the dark arts,” I point out. “We won’t exist anymore. At least not in the way we do now.”

  The store crackles with a tense silence as she ponders my words.

  Probably wondering what the hell she’s gotten herself into.

  Branna shakes her head. “All right, let’s say all this comes to fruition. We find the treaty and learn Gage is right. That the divine have somehow made a deal with the demonic to destroy the gargoyle race. What then? The supernatural worlds are not going to go to war with the divine. Nor are they going to go to war with the demonic realm. Both are way too powerful. So what happens, Nassa? How do we stop this?”

  The air shifts in the store and Gage appears next to us, interrupting our discussion. I lift my gaze and his sea-green eyes jerk to mine in a jarring way before he levels Branna with a cold, hard stare. My stomach sinks with the realization that something’s happened.

  “What’s wrong?” I manage to ask.

  Gage’s arm muscles flex as he crosses his arms over his black T-shirt. Something has him on edge. It’s in every fiber of his body, in the way he’s carrying himself.

&
nbsp; I stare at him.

  His eyes flash at me. “We need to talk.”

  Confusion and a tiny bit of fear trickle down my spine at his tone and stance.

  “You can’t just appear out of thin air and demand things of her,” Branna spits out.

  Gage shifts his focus back to her and smiles.

  It’s a spiteful, smug, gorgeous smile.

  As if he’s only smiling at her to cruelly mock her.

  “Apologies for interrupting tea time, Majesty,” he snarls.

  Branna gifts him a smirk of her own. “You can’t help your indecorous ways.” Her voice is sickly sweet. “After all, you are an undignified traitor,” she spits, insulting him.

  “Try not to throw around words you’re incapable of understanding.”

  She tilts her head. “How’s this for small words, you’re a gargoyle piece of shit.”

  “Naming calling from a dark witch with a stick up her ass doesn’t bother me.”

  Branna stands and steps into his personal space.

  He straightens, morphing into a warrior ready for a fight.

  I roll my eyes at their overreactions and childish behavior. It’s getting old.

  “You seriously give the term stone-cold heart a new meaning, arsehole.”

  “Speaking of assholes.” He throws her an unkind look. “May I suggest next time, you opt for the vibrating broom. Maybe it will loosen you up so you aren’t such a bitch.”

  “You’re a damn child.”

  “Since we’re on the topic”—his voice becomes more cruel—“no one likes spoiled children, so be sure to use an airtight container when storing your leftovers tonight.”

  Under my breath I chant, “Silentium.”

  Their mouths snap closed, preventing them from speaking. Closing the book, I place it, and my tea, on the table in front of the chair and stand, placing my hands on my hips.

  “If we’re going to survive tomorrow, and the days to come, you both need to stop.”

  Branna’s eyes narrow at me and Gage just throws me a pissed-off look.

  With angry hands, Branna motions over her mouth, releasing the spell.

  “I could hurt him. But I won’t,” she snaps, and angrily storms off.