by Jill Cooper
Copyright 2016, Jill Cooper
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover: White Rabbit Book Cover Designs
Editor: The Devil is in the Details
Other Books by Jill Cooper
YA Series Dream Slayer
The Dream Slayer: Book 1
Demon Royale: Book2
The Uninvited: A Dream Slayer Novella
Dawning Apocalypse: Book 3
Frozen Reverie: Book 4
Sacrifice: A Dream Slayer Novella
Necromancer’s Kill: A Dream Slayer Novella
The Shadow: Book 5
Resolve: Book 6
Fury: Book 7 Finale
The Rewind Series
15 Minutes
Rewind: Novella
Plugged
Undone: Novella
Detached
Adult Dystopian Series
Glistening Haven
Glistening Rebellion
Glistening Swarm
The Blood Sisters
Blood Lust
Blood Debt
Blood Sacrifice: Series Finale
Contents
1: Amara
2: Cathal
3: Amara
4: Cathal
5: Amara
6: Cathal
7 :Amara
8: Cathal
9: Amara
10: Cathal
11: Amara
12: Cathal
13: Amara
14: Cathal
15: Amara
16: Cathal
17: Amara
18: Cathal
19: Amara
20: Cathal
21: Amara
22: Cathal
23: Amara
Epilogue: Amara
About Jill Cooper
1: Amara
The gates of hell were before me and that meant I had arrived home.
My chest tightened at the sight of it; part of me relieved to see it and the other part felt the noose tightening. I’m stronger than most. Beauty, lethal as the sharpened tip of a blade. Humans were putty in my hands and angels were a trifle to be played with. To me, everything was a game.
My name? Amara. The devil’s daughter and I’ve returned home.
I strolled through the gates of hell’s inner sanctum, dragging my prisoner behind me. Ropes of fire bound him in a tight-knit cocoon. His face beaten into a swollen pulp and his white wings bent back and broken.
Cathal, a mighty angel who’d been sent to stop me. His head tossed back and forth, his muscles taught in his arms and legs, as he fought against the red burning rope. “Stop fighting.” My voice was sultry but filled with a malice few could comprehend.
“The ropes will only burn brighter and cut into your skin tighter.”
And he’d be mine forever, but nothing was fun about forever unless I could have a little playtime first. The devil tried to snuff fun out for me whenever he could. I had to make some wherever I could find it.
“You’ll never win, Amara. Not even you can defeat all the angels of heaven.”
Oh…I’d love to try. I was Lucifer’s child and his place should’ve been in heaven. I was his golden one, which meant I had a lot to live up to. Heir to a throne that could never be mine. The king of lies was eternal. Overbearing might be an understatement when it came to him, so going topside was my only solace.
I wasn’t just a pretty face, but I was also a temptress. Torturer and sometimes executioner.
The underworld was a dark, dirty place that served as a buffer between hell and Earth, but hell was paved with beauty and gold. Giant ornate buildings were erected along the street. Like the earthly place Venice, there are bridges arched over lakes of fire. Rows of buildings and common areas all spiraled out from the center. A giant dome building, made with the finest golds and jewels, was home.
But, that wasn’t all it was.
It was Lucifer’s throne and the inner courts in which he ruled, danced, and made love to whomever he wanted. Any demon would kill to be courted by him. I loathed the ground he stomped upon, but also revered him. He was my father, my king and controlled everything I did.
Demons here wore regal robes and headdresses in black, and red, sometimes even orange or green—as if royalty, rather than angels thrown from heaven. We celebrated our rebellion.
Excited faces gathered around. “Another piece of cattle, Amara?”
“A hunter does what she can.” I sneered and gave them a quick bow at the waist. “I must secure him, my friends.”
One of the ladies put a finger to her lips. She wore golden nail tips accented with diamonds and long swooping chains. “Can we touch him? I haven’t touched an angel in so long.”
“Later.” My voice smoldered as I pushed past, forcing them to open their circle. Dragging the angel behind me, I ran around left and down the golden cobblestone stairs. A fountain of fire spat in the center.
Demons of all sizes and shapes stepped aside. Some bowed their heads, while others refused to make eye contact with Lucifer’s daughter. I’d heard the stories. Many saw me as a bad omen. Perhaps I was.
Rounding the back bridge, I descend into darkness where even the fire burnt sky could not reach. Twisting my key, I unlocked the dungeon door and headed into the dank basement. Here, most cells were empty of the living. Instead, dead bodies decayed in their final resting place.
Throwing Cathal into an empty cell on the right, I yanked back my rope of fire and it spindled into my hand. Secured at my waist, it fell to my thigh high boots. As the cell doors slammed shut, Cathal crawled along the floor with a groan.
He gripped the bars and peered deep into my eyes in a way most demons didn’t dare. Eyes bluer than any angel I’d ever seen, they swirled like an ocean storm. Soft blond hair rested beneath his jaw line in delicate waves. Even with the bruises on his cheek and the welt under one eye that I gave him, he was handsome. Pure. Everything I despised.
His muscular arms trembled as he struggled to hold himself up. “You won’t be able to break me like you did the others, Amara. There’s a reason I was sent to you.”
I crossed my leather bound arms. “So you keep saying. I’m guessing you were sent to kill me.” When his eyes fell away, I knew it was the truth. “So, not much different than the others.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
I snorted. “I’m sure that’s true, but if you’ve listened to one angel lie, you’ve listened to them all.”
“You didn’t kill me when you could have. There must be a reason.”
I shrugged and didn’t see a reason to play his little game. “I’ve been bored. Bored for centuries upon centuries it seems. Not much to do when you’re…in line for a throne you’ll never have. Torturing you will give me something to do—for a few years.”
Cathal let the bars go and his body slumped to the floor. “I guess I better rest before you start.”
“This isn’t a five-star establishment.” Like I would give him rest out of the kindness of my heart? There was no mercy for his ilk. He was the worst of the worst. An angel—and I was demon. There was no friendship between our two factions.
“If it wasn’t for the banquet my father is holding tonight in my honor, I’d start now. But, Lucifer comes first no matter what.” There were no exceptions to that rule. I’d learned that the hard way.
Cathal struggled to roll over, thanks to his in
juries, and stared me down. His studious eyes were tired, but begged questions. An angel can’t ever stop being an angel, even in the dungeons of hell. “A banquet for you? Is it your birthday, or something?”
“None of your business.” I walked away from the prison bars and toward the dungeon door. His prying questions were just a distraction and I wouldn’t sit for it. I had things to do. Lucifer waited for no one.
Cathal wasn’t done. “C’mon, what’s a little conversation between enemies.”
It was forbidden; that’s what it was.
“Why didn’t you kill me, Amara?”
I willfully resisted an answer and slammed the dungeon door shut. Not because I didn’t want to tell him. Because I didn’t actually know. We’d fought a long hard battle. Blade against blade. I’d stolen his weapon and his golden rope—taking them as my chalice. That’s when I’d usually strike hard and without reservation.
It was the sword that had done it to me. Now, in the dank back corridors of the dungeon wing, I unbuttoned my black coat and held Cathal’s sword tight. Two hands over the hilt, I felt it again. A vibration. A sense of belonging.
I bit my lip, as a quiver reached into my soul—if I had one—and yanked on me tight, desperate to pull something in me free. Whatever this sword was, I felt something that I didn’t feel when holding the others. What it meant was beyond me. I only knew that Lucifer could never know.
2: Cathal
Amara was my mission and by all accounts, I had failed.
Her beauty was enchanting. Only rumors of it had reached heaven, most angels that had faced her one on one, never returned. My orders were precise. I was to avoid direct eye contact, attack swiftly and without mercy. It would be for the good of all mankind, but I faltered. I gazed upon her and her soft purple eyes, were unlike any demon I had ever battled.
The way they sparkled like diamonds. Her black hair was soft as a unicorn’s mane and streaked with lavender that matched her lips. To think such a beautiful creature had come from Lucifer, and that she was corrupted with such evil and malice, didn’t seem right.
Her wings weren’t much different than my own except mine were white and pure and hers were vengeful black. Her sword burned red as if straight from the lakes of fire and mine was struck with the white of pure pearl. My lasso was golden with purity from heaven, hers charred corrupt by the devil.
She served evil. I served good.
Light and darkness.
So why couldn’t I stop thinking about her? Why had I failed in my mission? Kill Amara before she threatened more angels of heaven and damned more human souls to the underworld. I fought for my life as we waged war against each other and when I seized the upper hand, I paused.
Even though I’d been awestruck that something so evil could be so beautiful, I knew well enough about the trickery of demons and their master, but somehow Amara’s essence was different. It reached through and touched me.
If Amara sensed what I was feeling, she’d showed no signs. She’d beat me. Fought me until I fell, and now escape wasn’t likely. Rescue would be impossible. No angel would dare venture this close to Lucifer, even if they could breach his protective walls.
I needed my own plan to survive, but there was no time to think as the dungeon door opened. Groaning, I rolled over onto the dirt floor. My elbows scraped against some rock as I struggled to push myself up. I didn’t want to appear weak to my enemy.
Had she returned already? It wasn’t Amara, but another demon. I had to admit, I was disappointed.
This demon had long blond hair and wore a black robe, even with his limp he was more elegant than most grunts. But his housecoat lacked the scroll work of the high council. His angular chin pinched together and his parted mouth showed the tips of fangs.
Carrying a tray, he bent over and slid it beneath a small slot in the bars. The tray didn’t hold much. Something that looked like bread and murky brown water. An insult and a message, I supposed, that while in hell I wouldn’t receive the finest luxuries I was used to.
If Amara thought I was going to touch that, she was in for a surprise. Angels could go an eternity without eating if they choose. I had no earthly desires for food or comfort.
Only my mission.
The demon’s eyes narrowed as they regarded me. His fingers were covered in giant ornate rings affixed with sparkling jewels. Stroking his hair back, he finally spoke. “You would do well to eat. She won’t make this offer again before she breaks you.”
I snuffed a laugh back. “Who says she’ll break me?”
“She breaks everyone.” The demon turned his head and pulled back his hair so I could get a good look at his cavernous scar. It ran from the base of his skull, down the back of his neck.
Three cuts. Each one a bit deeper than the last. His skin appeared as if it never fully healed, which was saying a lot for a demon of his caliber. “What’s your name?”
“Sebastian.” He nodded.
“She did that to you, Sebastian?”
“Yes.” He placed his hair back and strolled up to the bars. “I had the misfortune of speaking out publicly against Lucifer in his inner sanctum. Amara protects him like a dog looking to please its master. You’re a threat. You’ll be next, angel.”
His words chilled me and I watched him limp toward the door. Jagged shards of bones stuck out from the black of his robe. He’d wings once and Amara had ripped them straight from him. A great demon, perhaps, but now a shell of whoever he used to be. Now a servant to Lucifer.
I picked up the stone cup on the tray and gave it a dainty sniff. It smelled as if an animal had used it to clean itself. I placed it back on the tray and slid it away from beneath the cage.
“Take it with you.”
“I’ll leave it,” Sebastian said as he opened the door. “She won’t take no for an answer. You’ll submit before the end.”
Maybe others did and maybe even other angels, but I could be stronger. I could resist her. I circled into the center of my prison and sat on the dirt floor with my legs crossed. My wings hurt too bad to flutter, so I kept them folded down.
Rest. Healing. It’s what I needed the most.
With a deep breath, I rested my hands on my knees and went into an angel trance. A thing of beauty and prayer, I willed heaven to answer my call. To give me the council I needed and the energy required to mend my broken wing. A warm comforting glow surrounded me, but its intensity was muted. I couldn’t reach heaven and my healing powers weren’t working.
Instead of clouds and the solace of home, all I could see was Amara’s face. Beautiful and filled with a sorrow she masked with aggression. Whenever I tried to look past her face, I couldn’t. I was ensnared with her beauty and that might have been the most dangerous thing of all.
3: Amara
Changed out of my leather dressings, I now wore a floor-length purple dress and stood in the center of Lucifer’s court. Flames of gold and orange danced across the hem that swept across the golden bricks. My arms were covered in black gloves and my purple spiraled hair was done up in a majestic sweep.
Head bowed down until my chin touched my chest, I sensed the heat of Lucifer getting close. “My daughter.” His husky voice always chilled me. Always a presence in my life, but he hadn’t raised me. Terrified when he was close, but longing for him when he was gone.
If he knew, he’d use it to his advantage.
“Father,” I muttered. His hands stroked my bare shoulders and he brushed a delicate kiss on the nape of my neck. I shuddered to have his lips on me again. It was a greeting, a way to welcome me back home.
He placed the masquerade mask against my face and tied the ribbon tight around the base of my skull. “You’ve brought a regal gift with you this time. The angel. I could’ve gotten you a pet if you had asked.”
My bosom rose with a deep breath. “I prefer it this way. You know how much I love a little fun.” I licked my lips and hoped he’d allow me to keep Cathal. I turned around and stared into his face for the fir
st time since returning home.
His straight hair was thin, falling below his shoulders. Posture straight and most stately, he was taller than all the other demons. In his full-length red robe, he appeared even more so with a disproportionately long torso and lean legs. His yellow eyes glinted with red streaks and his skin smelled of smoldering ash. “You should bow before me, Amara.”
If he wanted Cathal for himself, he didn’t say. I counted myself lucky. “We’re alone, Father. There’s no reason to be so formal.”
“You will learn your place, Amara. Bow, or do I need to ready a cell for you next to the angel Cathal?”
I pushed my anger back and gathered my dress up in my hands. Bowing deep, I tipped forward. “Of course not, my father. You’re great and powerful. Lord to all that you survey.”
Lucifer’s laughter was comforting, at least more so than the rage he’d often go into when I displeased him. He touched my chin and edged my face up. “Beautiful as your mother was. I hate to break that spirit that I see in you, darling Amara. But it’s time for you to learn your place. After one thousand years of playing games, it’s time. In the inner courts by my side, don’t you think?”
The inner courts rather than engaging angels in battle or corrupting humans on Earth? It sounded like the things nightmares were made of, but if it made Lucifer happy…
When he offered me his hand, I took it.
Holding it to my lips, I kissed it and allowed it to linger against my face the way he liked.
“Come…” Lucifer beckoned me with his hand and we moved toward the window that faced the lava falling off the city cliffs.
I placed my hand on the window frame. Outside, the red flowing lava hypnotized me. The way it shimmered and brought light to the city was glorious. Beautiful. It went everywhere as it streamed beneath the bridges and city streets, except for one rock. That rock held a shimmering rose. It glowed like a firefly with big sweeping petals.
One of the petals had curled. Soon it would wither and fall off.
