Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  “You know what?” he whispered in her ear, the rumbling of his voice sending unwanted tingles down her spine, “you just need to get laid.”

  She sucked in an audible breath before she tried, unsuccessfully, to elbow him in the stomach. Her head spun as an unwanted image of them like this, alone and naked, flashed through her mind. She broke out in a sweat. She shook her head and hissed back. “I do not need to get laid.”

  “You need to get laid and get laid good.”

  “I’ll have you know I have a perfectly fine sex life.”

  “Perfectly fine?” Israel whistled. “A day can be fine. The temperature of a bath can be fine. Sex should not be fine.” He rolled her out as if they were dancing. She wrenched her arm from his and faced him, her breath coming out in heaving pants. His eyes looked as dark as obsidian as he circled her. In a low voice just for her ears he said, “Sex should be wild and raw. It should tear strips off you. It should be earth-shattering, soul-wrenching, exhilarating and terrifying, but it should never be fine.”

  An image slammed into her.

  He ran his lips along her neck up to her ear. “You are so…painfully beautiful.”

  He pulled her hands to his chest, then dragged her palms down his stomach. He let her touch him, exploring his body, until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

  His lips covered hers. This time he was rough with her. His hands gripped at her hair, holding her to him. Her fingertips sought out every knotted scar. He grabbed her, lifting her up and pulling her legs around him. Soon there was no space left between them. Only the exquisite agony of skin on skin.

  Alyx slammed back into her body.

  Holy hell.

  What the hell was that?

  She was dizzy, unsteady on her feet, and her body was shaking as the aftershocks of her…fantasy…memory…she didn’t know…trickled down through her.

  She stared at Israel before her, his cocky half-smile, his muscled, sure body oozing with a deadly masculinity, and her core bloomed with an ache again. Nothing on his face gave away that he had experienced anything like what she just had.

  No. She could not want this.

  She launched to strike him again, channeling this heat into a kind of fury. Their limbs tangled and they both spun across the floor. Hurt him. Kiss him. Hit him. Have him. Alyx wrestled for control. Over him. Over herself.

  She found herself yanked up against him again. She heard a whimper that she realized was her own.

  “You know,” he whispered against her hair, his lips brushing the top of her ear, “I’d show you, if you asked nicely.”

  She shoved at his chest, hard as granite. “You arrogant—”

  “Alyx. Israel,” interrupted the Elder. She’d forgotten he was even there. “We don’t have time for this bickering.”

  “He started it.”

  “She started it.”

  They both spoke together, fingers pointing at each other.

  The chamber began to shake, the chandeliers rattling like chains. “What’s happening?” Huge cracks appeared in the ceiling, dirt from above sifting through and showering the stone floor. It wasn’t just a tremor. This whole chamber was going to collapse.

  Chapter Five

  Israel’s stomach twisted into knots. He spotted the Elder’s face, open with fear, and they pulled tighter.

  “Grab your swords then aim for the exit,” the Elder yelled as he began to lumber for the black doorway on the far side of the chamber. “Hurry!”

  Alyx was already moving. She grabbed her weapon and his lying on the floor where they had dropped them. “Israel.” She threw his sword at him. Without thinking he caught his sword by the handle and sheathed it in one movement. She began to sprint for the door, yelling as she dodged a piece of falling ceiling.

  He ran too. “Come on, Elder.”

  “Curse this tiny body,” the Elder cried as he waddled up on his squat hind legs.

  There was a huge crack and a groan behind him. Israel turned his head just in time to see a pillar break away and fall towards the Elder.

  “Look out!” Israel stopped short.

  The pillar toppled upon the Elder, knocking him down. Israel ran to him, dodging pieces of falling stone and leaping over the cracks that were appearing in the floor. He skidded to the Elder’s side.

  “Leave me,” the Elder said. “Go. Get her out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving you.” Israel tried to yank the pillar off the Elder’s tail but it was too heavy.

  “Israel, there’s not enough time. Get out of here.”

  “We’re not leaving you.” Alyx grabbed the pillar too. She’d come back. She lifted her eyes to Israel. “On two.”

  He nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. “One.”

  “Two.”

  He pulled as hard as he could. The pillar was so heavy, sweat poured from Israel’s forehead and his palms, making his grip slippery. Alyx’s face was twisted with strain too.

  But the pillar wouldn’t move.

  “This isn’t working.” Alyx let go of the pillar.

  “Go, both of you,” the Elder said. “I’m not important. I just need to tell you before you go…”

  “No,” Israel said. “You’re coming with us.” He glanced at the Elder’s tail. It was almost crushed through. “I have an idea,” he said to Alyx. “But it might hurt him.”

  “Will it hurt him any more than having a building collapse on him?”

  “Good point. You cut his tail. I’ll pull him.”

  “What?”

  “We have no choice.” Israel grabbed the Elder under his arms. “Do it.”

  She nodded, her lips going pale as she pressed them together, her polished features furrowed with determination. She unsheathed her sword and swung. It cracked through the stone of his tail.

  Israel almost fell back as the Elder pulled free.

  “Now, silly children,” the Elder said, the gray coloring of his cheeks going almost white. “Run.”

  Israel hoisted the Elder onto his back. “Hang on.” The Elder’s arms went around his neck and Israel bolted after Alyx.

  Crack.

  A second pillar broke loose and fell towards them. Israel didn’t think, he just moved, leaping off the ground. He felt his body go weightless and he twisted in the air, kicking off the side of another pillar. The Elder’s grip tightened around his neck and his short hind legs dug into his sides.

  The falling pillar missed them by inches.

  Crash.

  Israel landed on the shaky ground and didn’t miss a beat. He just kept running.

  As he reached the doorway, Alyx was standing there, her mouth agape. She must have seen his acrobatics. “How did you do that?”

  That was a damn good question. Not one that he could answer. “No time. Go.”

  She turned and was swallowed up by the dark stairwell. He chased after her, racing up the stairs two at a time, a thunderous crash closing off the chamber behind him with a spitting of hot dust. In the tight stone stairwell he was shaken about like dice in a cup, his shoulders bouncing and scraping off the sides. He squinted through the blackness and falling grit, aiming desperately for the light coming from the exit somewhere above. Any second now these coffin-like walls would collapse and crush them.

  Please, hold. Just hold for a few more seconds.

  Finally, the exit, a doorway filled with light at the top of the staircase. He burst out into a grand stone church, his breath heaving, his lungs stinging from the dust and effort. He was in what looked like the inside of a cathedral, the gothic ceiling soaring up well above him, the hanging thuribles shaking on their chains, wooden pews clattering against the marble floor. They must be above ground now because light streamed in through the stained glass windows. He knew this place. It was Saint Paul’s Cathedral in Saint Joseph.

  He raced after Alyx, already sprinting down the center of the aisle towards the exit, the Elder’s stony body knocking bruises against his spine as he ran.

  “Israel, wait,
” the Elder said in a hoarse voice.

  They couldn’t wait. Before Israel could answer, the Elder’s arms crumbled from around his neck like pieces of dried clay. The weight lifted from him as the stone gargoyle crashed to the ground.

  “Elder!” Israel spun around. The Elder was lying in pieces, limbs shattered, his torso cracked in three places.

  “Israel…” It came from the Elder’s mouth, still moving. He was still alive. Israel dropped to the Elder’s side.

  “Elder, oh my God.” Alyx dropped down next to him.

  “It’s fine. I was never meant to be here anyway,” the Elder said, speaking out of the corner of his broken mouth. His eyes in two separate pieces, blinked once, twice.

  “We can fix you. We can—”

  “No, Alyx. You have to listen.” The pieces of him were still collapsing, as if he was watching a time lapse of the wind breaking down a rock in the desert, the edges disintegrating into sand and dust. “You need to get out of here before winter is over.”

  “Winter?”

  “Find the Mapmaker. He has the map. The map is the key to getting out of here.” If there was anything more that he wanted to say, he lost his chance. The Elder’s last remaining pieces fell away to a pile of sand and dust.

  Alyx’s face crumpled. His chest squeezed, a reflection of the loss he could see in her eyes. But there was no time to mourn him. Pieces of the ceiling crashed down around them, smashing apart the fragile wooden pews like unforgiving fists. That would be their bodies in splinters if they didn’t move.

  He grabbed her hand. “We have to go. Now! This building is going to collapse on us.”

  They sprinted down the rest of the aisle. The large iron chandelier fell from the crumbling ceiling, diving into the floor with a terrible clatter and a shower of metal and sparks. The colored glass in the windows shattered as the walls groaned, then collapsed.

  Israel and Alyx burst through the doors—thank God they were unlocked—and tumbled down the stairs. The cathedral fell in upon itself with a thundering crash and a billowing of dust. Israel fell upon the lawn, rolling until he came to a complete stop beside her, his arms wrapping around her as she gripped his shirt in her fists. They stayed like that as the broken building ceased its spitting and the dust settled. Behind Israel’s closed lids an image overtook him.

  She lay naked against his chest, his arms holding her to him, her soft body molding around his hard one, her scent in his nose; of the wind and of sun-warmed jasmine.

  There was no end to him or beginning to her. They were one and the same, born in the same breath, pieces of the same star. They were…complete.

  He barely knew his own voice when he spoke, so full of raw, swollen reverence, yet so quiet he wasn’t sure she heard him. “Why do you fit so perfectly here?”

  His fingers traced her shoulder and she shivered against him. How could an angel-piece fit alongside his dull and roughened edges? How had he managed to capture the light of a star in his hands? How long could he hold it?

  He felt an overwhelming ache growing in his heart; he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve…her.

  Israel’s eyes snapped open. He gazed at Alyx’s face, looking almost identical to the Alyx of his mind, his mouth suddenly dry. What the hell had he seen?

  He searched her face looking for answers. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lashes coated in dust as if it were snow. She had the most beautiful skin, smooth and pale like polished marble. He raised his fingers to brush her cheek before he knew what he was doing. Her skin was as smooth as it felt in his… fantasy… memory… whatever that was.

  Her eyes flickered open and stared at him, surprise clear in them. This close he could see all the specks of gold and pale green in her emerald eyes. Like the leaves when they were just beginning to turn in autumn.

  “You had a smudge,” he lied. “On your cheek.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  He brushed her cheek again. It took all the willpower he had not to cup her face and pull her closer, to reach under her clothes for the softness he knew was there. “There,” his voice cracked. “It’s gone.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know,” he tried a joke, “we must stop meeting like this.”

  She didn’t laugh. She chewed on her bottom lip and his gaze dropped to her lips.

  She pressed her mouth to his, lightly, her finger caught between the corners of their mouths. Her kiss was so light, he could barely believe it was real.

  Israel blinked. Alyx hadn’t moved. She hadn’t kissed him.

  What was happening to him? What was he seeing? Was he going mad or was the Elder…right? “In a past life, the two of you meant something very special to each other.”

  She cleared her throat and scrambled to untangle herself from him. Israel felt the loss of her nearness at once. He stood, trying to clear his thoughts as he brushed down his clothes, pants and hair. There was dust everywhere.

  Alyx tugged his arm. “Israel, look.”

  He looked up to where Alyx was pointing. Over the top of the stone wall that circled around the cathedral grounds was a looming purple mountain rising up in the distance. In the sky above the mountain was a shimmering, faded image of Alyx asleep in her hospital bed, just as she had been when he’d left her there.

  That’s where they had to go. That was their exit.

  “That’s me,” she said quietly. “I really am lying in a coma.”

  He hated how her voice tightened. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

  “Sure.”

  But he didn’t think she sounded sure at all.

  That was fine. He would be sure for both of them.

  He glanced around him. In the real world the end of spring was coming, but here the garden was bare, winter’s faded touch clear in the frost on the pale grass, the sun low in the sky. The stone wall rising up around the perimeter of the now ruined cathedral was covered in a leafless vine like a dried spider’s web. This vine and a few spindly trees planted along parts of the wall were just beginning to dot with pale green tips.

  “Look. It’s just coming into spring here.” The Elder had seemed so urgent when he told them that they needed to get out before the end of winter. But winter was still eight or nine months away. “We have plenty of time to get you out.”

  “We need to find the Mapmaker, whoever he is. Wherever he is.” She made a face. “We need a map to get to the Mapmaker.”

  Israel spotted the wrought iron gate, one of the few discreet entrances set into the stone wall. Through the bars he could see the cobbled street beyond. If this cathedral looked just like Saint Paul’s, what were the chances…?

  He strode across the grass and stopped at the gate, aware that Alyx had followed him. Through the gate was a narrow gritty street with a sign that read “Hell’s Fire” in tacky fluorescent flames over a basement bar partly hidden under street level.

  “Yes,” he pushed open the gate with a shove. “We don’t need a map.”

  “But the Elder said—”

  “We don’t need a map because this…” he stepped out onto the street, Alyx following him, “this isn’t just a replica of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, this is a replica of Saint Joseph. And I know this city like the back of my hand.”

  To Alyx walking the streets of Saint Joseph had always felt like walking along giant trenches. It was an ancient city having survived two world wars, some buildings still carrying the scars of bullets and shrapnel, but the largest scars were the deepest, only sensed and unseen, weaved into the culture and into the people’s deepest fears, a sense that the next great war was just biding its time and that peace was a translucent veil.

  In the old parts of Saint Joseph the buildings rose uniformly along four stories. Something about not being able to see the horizon unnerved her. Even as a child growing up in Saint Joseph, she had always had the sense that she didn’t belong here. That she had been born in the wrong place. The wrong time…

  Alyx walked alongside Israel down
another street, their steps falling into unison without trying. Even with his presence beside her, her eyes darted about, her sword shifting against her thigh, a weighty reminder that in this place she was in danger. Why else would the Elder have given them each a sword and wanted to teach them to use it? Her nerves tremored under her skin. She had not been able to remember like Israel had.

  She couldn’t believe it when she had turned around in the doorway of the underground vault to see Israel twisting in the air like an acrobat. Time had seemed to slow as she watched him, even as the ceiling crumbled around them. He was darkly magnificent, his movements so sure and powerful, fluid like water, and her chest had tightened at the sight. At that very moment she thought she had heard Israel’s voice in her head. In this life and the next. But it was just her imagination, right?

  They walked for a few more minutes, Israel leading the way before Alyx was game enough to ask something that had been bothering her for a while. “Can I ask you something…personal?”

  Israel glanced over to her and grinned. “Yes, I’m single.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I was about to ask you.”

  “But it’s good to know anyway, right?”

  She snorted back a retort. “What I wanted to ask was…why are you helping me?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you heard the Elder back there. He said that if you died in this dream, you’d get to wake up in the real world. Why are you staying in here to help me?”

  Israel shot her a look. “Why wouldn’t I help?”

  “You don’t know me,” she said, her voice tight. “Why do you care?”

  Israel grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him, his gaze boring into hers. “There’s a reason why I was brought here, even if I don’t know yet whether I believe everything the Elder said. I watched you get hit on the head. I watched them pack you into the back of an ambulance and I saw you lying helpless in the hospital bed. Even if I didn’t believe that we…” He swallowed and his grip loosened. “What kind of person—what kind of man would I be if I didn’t stay and help?”