The Demon's Deal

by H. D. Gordon

  The Demon’s Deal

  The Aria Fae Series: Book 5

  H. D. Gordon

  Copyright © 2018 H. D. Gordon

  Published by H. D. Gordon Books

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  To the readers who made it this far <3

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Sneak Peek: Moon Burned

  Story Summary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Moon Burned

  Also by H. D. Gordon

  About the Author

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  Review, please ;)

  Chapter One

  It happened so fast, like all accidents.

  I was close by, gliding down the sidewalk on my skateboard. Had I been wearing headphones, or lost in my own thoughts, the child would have died.

  I didn’t blame the mother. I don’t have children, and as I can hardly care for myself most days, I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to have to keep another person alive. All it takes is one moment of distraction, and one’s life can change forever.

  That, I did have personal experience with.

  It was Monday morning, and like most cities, the place was bustling with commuters eagerly trying to get to the jobs they hated. The cab drivers and bikers swerved in and out of the chaos, cursing and honking at everything in their path.

  The blare of the horn that caught my attention was different. The spike of emotions had me jerking my head up, my heart kicking up pace, my instincts going on high alert.

  On the corner, where Walnut and 9th intersected, stood a young mother with two children. One of the children was crying, tugging her mom in the other direction, while the other child stepped innocently off the curb…right into the path of an oncoming delivery truck.

  I took in this whole scene in a matter of seconds. The girl—no older than four with big brown eyes and dark curly hair—lifted her hand toward a butterfly that was winding its way through the city. The truck driver honked, someone shouted, brakes squealed. But the child was too close, the impact imminent.

  As a Halfling, my senses and reflexes are much better than a full human’s. And, luckily, for the child and mother, so is my speed.

  I didn’t think. There was no time for it. Instead, I leapt off my skateboard and scooped the child up into my arms, putting my back to the oncoming truck. I tried to get out of the way, but there was only time to toss the child back onto the pavement, out of harm’s way.

  The truck struck me, hard enough that if I were a human, I likely would have been in serious trouble. It still hurt like hell, sent sparks across my vision before blanketing it with black. I’d managed to move enough that the vehicle clipped my side, and the driver had applied the brakes, but I was going to be hurting for a while.

  I collapsed to the pavement, my breathing labored, and blinked several times before I could see again. Pain shot through my shoulder and back, down my legs. I felt my hands shaking, but couldn’t seize control of them for a few moments.

  “Oh my God!” someone said. “Are you okay?”

  Oddly, my first reaction was to laugh, only it came out sounding like a choke. When I tasted blood in my mouth, any laughter dried in my throat.

  “I’m fine,” I managed. After a few deep and painful breaths, I sat up.

  A man in his mid-thirties with a kind and competent aura knelt beside me. I noticed that others had paused and were gathering around me.

  “I’m a registered nurse,” the man said. “Don’t move. I’m calling an ambulance.”

  He reached out a hand as if to gently push me back down. Though my body agreed that moving was not ideal by screaming at me in pain, I ignored the directive and climbed to my feet, stumbling.

  The kind nurse stared at me with wide eyes. “What the…?” he mumbled.

  Swallowing a wad of blood and grimacing at the irony taste and the agony starting to tear through my back and shoulder, I gave him a weak smile. The auras of those around us were beginning to glow with curiosity. I needed to get out of here.

  “It wasn’t as bad as it looked,” I said, and began to walk away at a pace swift enough to make the pain nearly blinding.

  I crossed the mother with the two children just before turning down a small alley and out of the bustle of the intersection.

  She didn’t thank me. She only gave me the same wide-eyed look the nurse had given me, tucking her children in closer at her side as I passed by.

  The snap of his neck sounded in my ears. Lightning flashed across the sky as the heavens poured out their stores, drenching me.

  The world zeroed in on his face, his eyes. As another flash of light lit up the night, the light left those eyes.

  Some of the light in my soul left with it.

  I collapsed to the pavement, my knees striking it hard, but I didn’t feel it. The physical pain held no candle to the emotional torment.

  I opened my mouth and tried to scream, but the only sound was a choking sob. When I looked up from staring at the hands that had made that sound, that had caused the terrible and unmistakable snap, Leonard Boyce’s eyes were open.

  But the light had not returned to them.

  Dead eyes, staring daggers of accusation.

  “You murdered me,” he said. “And you’ll pay for it with the currency of the soul.”

  There was a sound beside me, indistinguishable but nonetheless drawing. Laid out on the pavement was Samantha Shy, my best friend in the world.

  And her eyes were also wide and dead.

  Now the scream that tore up my throat tore something inside of me as well.

  “Murderer!” shouted a chorus of voices.

  Footsteps sounded to my left. I turned my head with great effort. It seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.

  A sharp-dressed demon, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, stepped out of the fog of the storm. A smile pulled up his lips, revealing teeth white and straight as a razor. He raised his arm, hiking up his suit sleeve and checking the golden watch there.

  Eyes as dark as night flicked up to meet mine. “Time’s almost up,” Saleos whispered.

  Then he was before me, the scent of fear and ash clinging to him, filling my nose, choking me.

  “See you soon, Aria dearest,” the Demon promised, stroking my cheek.

  I
saw fate flickering in the fires of the hells burning in his eyes.

  I awoke drenched in sweat.

  My sheets were tangled around me, and as I jolted into consciousness, the pain of my injuries earlier that day awoke as well.

  I groaned. The damn dream again. I’d lost count of the hours of sleep it had stolen from me, of the times I’d awoken in exactly this manner, heart pounding in my throat.

  Blinking, I glanced over at the single window in my tiny studio apartment. Beyond, the sky was just beginning to lighten. Grant City would come to life soon, with people making their way to their jobs and hustles, but for now, the place was quiet in the way that only predawn ever seems capable of.

  I cursed when I tried to sit up, and my body protested. Then I remembered getting hit by the truck, the look on the mother’s face when I’d passed by. On the heels of the damn dream, I thought maybe I deserved the treatment.

  Staring up at my water-stained ceiling, I mumbled, “Hello, darkness.”

  I laid there in self-pity for a few more moments before mustering the energy to survey yesterday’s damage. I barely remembered making it home, climbing the stairs to my apartment, falling into bed.

  But my Halfling blood had worked its magic, and the agony that I’d been in twelve hours prior had been downgraded to sharp pain. Sitting up made my head spin and my stomach turn, but at least I could sit up at all.

  Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I stumbled into the bathroom and grunted in pain as I pulled my shirt off over my head, each movement a symphony of singing nerves. Turning, I surveyed the damage to my back.

  And grimaced.

  Though I was healing quickly, my back was black and blue, the injuries much uglier than they had been just yesterday. I considered showering, but knew that even the meager pressure of the water would test my stoicism, so instead, I made myself a bowl of oatmeal. I’d just sat down to eat it when there was a knock on the door.

  Glancing up, I sensed the aura of the caller, and smiled. I snatched a jacket off the pile of clothes I’d balanced expertly on the single chair in the place, and zipped it up to cover my state. Then I opened the doors.

  Thomas Reid took one look at me and worry flooded his aura. “What happened?” he asked.

  I sighed and left him to close the door as I reclaimed my spot on the floor where I’d left my breakfast. “Had a little disagreement with a delivery truck,” I said around a bite. “It’s nothing.”

  Thomas stared at me a moment before shaking his head and folding himself down beside me. Reaching into a canvas bag he’d brought, he handed me a plastic container with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage. He continued his observation as I dug into the food, pretending not to notice his attention.

  When I was finished, I blinked up at him. “What?” I asked.

  “You had the dream again,” Thomas said.

  I looked down at my hands. It wasn’t a question, but I nodded.

  Thomas tipped my chin up with calloused but gentle fingers. “Aria, we need to tell the others.”

  Had he been anyone else, I likely would’ve grown more defensive. We’d been over this what seemed a million times in the past six months, since I’d made the deal with the Demon Saleos. Sam had died, and in order to bring her back, I’d sold my soul to the Demon in exchange for her life. He’d given me until my next birthday to live, nine months before he collected payment. Now, six of those were up, and Thomas and I were no closer to finding a way out of the deal than we had been half a year ago.

  Though I wouldn’t admit it, Thomas was the only one who’d really been trying to find a way. A Demon’s deal was unbreakable; every being with supernatural blood knew that, but Thomas had held out hope. Was still holding onto it, and it was becoming more difficult to keep glimpsing it in his eyes.

  But if I were being completely honest with myself, I wasn’t trying that hard to find a way out of the deal, because a part of me thought I deserved it. I’d not only bargained away my own soul that night, I’d also stolen one. I’d killed Leonard Boyce, a madman, but a man, nonetheless. I’d killed a human.

  The very people I’d been trained to protect.

  My mother used to tell me that the universe demands balance in all things—matters of life and death most of all.

  “I will,” I said, trying not to drown in the hazel of Thomas’s eyes. He was so handsome, his aura so familiar and genuine, that it was starting to be difficult just to look at him. I didn’t want to leave him. If given the choice, I would stay with him forever.

  But I didn’t have forever.

  I had three months.

  “When?” Thomas asked.

  My jaw clenched, but after a crappy day and a sleepless night, I just didn’t have the energy to argue.

  “Soon,” I said.

  I didn’t add that I didn’t see the point. I hadn’t told Sam and the others about my impending doom because there was nothing they could do about it, and it would only sour our last bit of time together.

  As ever, with Thomas, I didn’t need to speak the words. He could read them on my face the same way I read auras.

  “We need their help, Aria,” he said. “The only way we’re going to get through this is together… That’s what family does.”

  My eyes burned, but I swallowed away the emotion before it could really surface. Instead, I only nodded.

  It would figure that I would finally find a home, a family, only to lose it so soon after.

  Chapter Two

  Thomas left to check in with his superiors, giving me time to mull over the situation.

  Normally, I would go for a run or workout when my mood sank this low, but with yesterday’s injuries, I wouldn’t be doing any such thing for at least another week. After a morning and afternoon of staring at my four walls, however, I needed to get some air, so I headed out into the streets for an evening walk.

  My feet led me toward Grant City’s Garden Park. It was the largest public park in the city, the trail that wound through it stretching for over five miles. I’d taken to running here whenever I could, as the greenery provided a nice break from the bricks, metal, and cement of the rest of the city.

  Twilight was beginning to descend, but the park was still buzzing with activity. Couples sat on the edges of burbling fountains, statues of important figures occupying their centers, and on benches tucked under the shade of cherry blossom trees. Parents lounged on the grass as their children ran and played. Others read, walked, ate their dinners from boxes propped open on their laps. I studied their auras as I passed by, making up stories to accompany them, which was always an efficient way of distracting myself when my own mind was in too much turmoil to deal with.

  It had been nearly two years since I’d first come to Grant City after having been kicked out of the Peace Brokers. At the time, I’d thought my life was basically over. I hadn’t been able to make sense of anything on my own, as I’d been so used to following orders. I’d not only lacked resources, but also a sense of purpose. I’d had no one and nothing.

  And then I’d met Samantha Shy.

  Together, we’d fallen down a rabbit hole that I still seemed to be sinking deeper into. Samantha was a seventeen-year-old computer genius, and I had superhuman skill with my Halfling blood and Broker training. With dark pasts and the mystery of the recent death of Sam’s mom, it had been almost comically obvious that we would end up trying to get to the bottom of things.

  And what had we figured out? Well, for one thing, women were being taken. We’d even found a lab of Halflings that were being experimented upon. We knew that the Cross Corporation, and perhaps even my former employers, the Peace Brokers, were involved.

  We’d been getting close. I could sense it. But then Leonard Boyce had gone and tried to destroy the city, and Sam had ended up getting killed. I’d traded my soul to Saleos, and since then, I’d been a little too distracted to dig any deeper into the mysteries we’d only seemed to scratch the surface of.

  I was so absorbed
in these thoughts that I nearly tripped on the man curled up along the side of the walkway.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, seeing that he was looking up at me from beneath an old blanket.

  His face was riddled with acne scars, his hair dirty and overgrown. Obviously homeless, I could see in his aura that he was also addicted to something. My heart hurt for him. More and more people were ending up this way, their auras all the same hopeless swirl of terribly dull colors, ghosts of their former selves.

  The man blinked at me before resting his head on the pavement once more and mumbling something I didn’t bother to listen for. Reaching into my pocket, I took out the last ten dollars I had until I went to work tomorrow and handed it to him. He nodded his thanks, still mumbling to himself, and tucked the bill into his stained shirt.

  When I went to move away, however, his hand shot out fast as a snake, gripping me around the wrist. The movement was so swift, his fingers filled with enough strength to ache, that all I could do for a handful of heartbeats was stare. My pulse kicked up, stomach twisting, as my shock held me immobile.

  Whereas before, the man’s eyes had been dull and distant, a light danced in them now that stole away what breath remained in my lungs. They didn’t change color, or glow as might a Werewolf’s, but there was a sentience that had not been there only moments before. As I stared into the depths of them, unable to jerk my hand away though some part of me knew I should, I was sure my heart skipped three whole beats.