by S. L. Wright
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
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
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM
Praise for Confessions of a Demon
“A fascinating, utterly original demon world, teeming with conflict and intrigue. I fell in love with Allay and her struggle to keep her humanity despite the forces aligned against her. Mesmerizing and addictive, Confessions of a Demon is urban fantasy at its best!”
—Jeri Smith-Ready, award-winning author
of Wicked Game
“Way-fast read, intensely built world, tortured hero, kick-ass heroine—what’s not to like?”
—Jennifer Stevenson, author of Trash Sex Magic
“Wright brings some new blood to the urban fantasy genre with a well-written first-person narrative. Allay is a strong character with enough vulnerability to make her interesting. The nifty combination of action, fantasy, and sexual tension provides an entertaining read, and the conclusion leaves the door open for a sequel.”
—Romantic Times (four stars)
“The combination of social commentary on the power of religion in contemporary society, a sensual romantic subplot, and a protagonist whose dual nature causes a moral dilemma that could kill her starts this promising new series on a high note.”—Library Journal
“Confessions of a Demon is riveting! I couldn’t put it down! S. L. Wright has created a new and exciting paranormal world that is different from anything out there right now. I was on the edge of my seat as Allay and Theo fought to defeat the nastier demons of New York. Fans of paranormal and urban fantasy will love this book! Run out and buy a copy of Confessions of a Demon . You won’t be sorry.”—Romance Junkies
“This is a very enthralling, evocative, and electrifying urban fantasy, whose underlying premise is demons are just another sentient species and not angry at God or ordered by Lucifer. Like humans, demons have the good, the bad, and the ugly unmentionables. S. L. Wright adds to the realism by the fascinating way they reproduce. Allay refuses to lose her humanity, but to keep it, she will die soon, which she is okay with as that should save humans for now. Filled with awe and twists, Confessions of a Demon is a refreshing, powerful Manhattan thriller.”
—Alternative Worlds
“Confessions of a Demon by S. L. Wright is an interesting new look at the world of demons, with a distinct urban fantasy feel. Allay makes a fantastic heroine with her inherent goodness and her struggle to maintain her humanity. Since this story appears to be the beginning of a new series, urban fantasy fans have a lot to look forward to.”—The Romance Readers Connection
“S. L. Wright’s uniquely crafted world of urban fantasy adds a fascinating spin to what is at heart a book about relationships and self-knowledge. No heavy-handed moralizing though, just a fun, fast read with plenty to chew on before the much-awaited next in the series comes out.”—Fresh Fiction
“Confessions of a Demon is an exciting urban fantasy story unlike any I’ve ever read! Allay is a very strong, kick-ass heroine, and I easily found myself rooting for her. I felt that the plot about demons that are named after the emotions that is their substance was awesome, like there was Shock, Glory, Vex, and tons more! I really loved this, and it’s incredibly original. A great set of characters combined with a riveting plot makes Confessions of a Demon a must read, and I can’t wait to read more of Wright’s future books!”—The Book Lush
Also by S. L. Wright
Confessions of a Demon
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,
Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
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First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, December 2010
Copyright © Susan Wright, 2010
All rights reserved
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
Without limiting the rights under 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 the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
eISBN : 978-1-101-44563-1
http://us.penguingroup.com
This novel is dedicated to my loving husband, Kelly.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank Jessica Wade, my editor at Roc, and my agent, Lucienne Diver, for their dedication in making this novel the best it could be.
1
I was wiping down the top of the old mahogany bar, tenderly rubbing the scars and worn patches where the varnish had disappeared, when I got all choked up and sentimental again.My bar ...
I wanted to smack myself, it was so dumb. But I’d just found out that the bar belonged to me. For too many years, I’d felt guilty about my business manager, Michael, and his languishing investment of a bar, knowing full well how infinitesimal my profit margin was.
Now—who cared? I suddenly felt like a wildly successful entrepreneur. I had everything I needed right here; I could make a living and provide myself with what I wanted the most: relief. The sweet elixir of life.
At least it was for me. I made people feel better so I could sip their contentment. I could feed on any emotions, of course, but my bar provided me with a lovely stream of people who needed release from their pain—my captive herd. I lived on them like the parasite that I was. I no longer needed to sleep or eat, and I could change my appearance any way I wanted.
I was Allay. A demon.
Bliss came around the corner. “The ice maker isn’t working.”
Startled, I looked up into the Hollywood eyes of my offspring. Though she’d literally been born only yesterday, with her platinum blond curls and perfect cheekbones, she could have stepped off the red carpet. This in spite of the fact that she was wearing a pair of my old jeans and a threadbare Affliction T-shirt as she helped me prep the bar. I had offered to open up the Den to entice her into staying around. Call it some kind of misplaced maternal instinct.
“There’s a trick to it.” I dried off my hands on my tiny black apron, heading to the back room.
“I know.” Bliss tapped her head. “Memories. Remember?”
All demons were born with trace memories from their progenitor. But this stopped me in my tracks. “You know about the ice maker?”
Bliss rolled her eyes. “Every morning for the past ten years, you’ve checked the ice maker. Believe me, something that repetitive is bound to stick.”
I felt exposed. How could someone know my thoughts and feelings, yet not be me? From the little I’d seen so far, Bliss was very different from me, much more knowing and brusque.
I tried to turn the conversation away from me. “We’ll have to go buy bags of ice, then.”
As if I hadn’t spoken, Bliss added, “I wish you hadn’t blocked the memories of Plea. I’d like to know what it’s like for a real demon. Instead of a possessed human.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
It wasn’t my fault that I hadn’t been able to handle the haunting flashes of Plea’s life when, as a teenager, I had accidentally absorbed her essence as she lay dying. I had built a wall that remained to this day around my progenitor’s life. I had tried to be exactly who I was before I was turned: a California free spirit, spiced with a bit of New York City. I’d even kept my appearance the same: slender yet strong, with short dark hair and muddy green eyes. I blended into the mix of artsy bohemians and working-class Latinos my bar drew, keeping a low profile and inviting no questions.
But there was no denying that my strongest desire now was to feed off the emotions of other people. It changed everything. Like other demons, I manipulated people so I could touch them, so I could live off them.
With my offspring, it was completely different. I didn’t want to touch Bliss. Having her this close was bad enough. She stared at me curiously, clearly knowing so much yet understanding so little about me.
Shock kicked open the door of the bathroom, wrestling the mop and bucket on wheels onto the chipped tile floor. She took one look at me and Bliss standing barely an arm’s length apart behind the bar and went on high alert.
“Back off!” she snapped at Bliss. Shock’s persona was petite with buzzed white hair, but she radiated fierceness like an angry terrier. You knew it could bite.
But I trusted Shock with my life. She was my only demon friend. She had saved my sanity for the past ten years; she was the only one who really knew me. The only one I had. That was why I had risked everything to save her. Nothing less would have driven me to seek help from Vex and Dread, the two-headed monster that had once ruled my demon line. Vex had thought he owned me, but in the end I had killed him.
Actually Ram had killed Vex, sucking the life force from his body and absorbing it into his own. But I had stood there and watched the battle between the ancient demons, mesmerized by Ram, as I always seemed to be. I had no self-control with him. Even at the height of my distress at having to kill another demon in order to survive, I let him make love to me in the park. My energy overload had almost instantly resulted in Bliss, my offspring, who would now spend her life craving to feed off others’ ecstasy because that was what she had been born from.
I raised my hands to get Shock to slow down as she approached Bliss at the bar. I didn’t like it that my best friend was defensive around my offspring. “Bliss isn’t doing anything, Shock.”
“Then why are you so freaked-out?” Shock gestured with her chin at my aura, the visual radiance that clearly mapped out my uneasiness.
“This progenitor stuff is a little weird. It’ll take some time getting used to having an offspring.”
“Don’t get used to it. You’re not supposed to. Your instincts are telling you to get away from her. She knows you, Allay. Your strengths and weaknesses. She has your muscle memories of aikido, too. She could really hurt you.”
I turned to Bliss. “Do you want to hurt me?”
“Nope.” She crossed her arms and smirked. “I don’t plan on hurting you, either, Shock. The only interesting memories Allay has—other than the past few days—are about you.”
Shock refused to look at her. “New demons can’t be trusted. They’re unstable, unpredictable. You know that, Allay.”
“I can’t push her into the street,” I argued. “Vex brought in all kinds of demons to attack Glory. It’s not safe for a newbie—”
“I can take care of myself,” Bliss told me.
I could hear myself in her voice. How much of her assurance came from her own abilities and how much came from my memories? “When I was first transformed, I had help from Vex,” I reminded her. “A lot of help—he even gave me the Den. That’s what we have to do for each other from now on. You don’t want to be going to Dread for help someday.”
“Dread isn’t going to protect us,” Shock said. “He tried to kill you, Allay. That makes us fair game for any demon, including Goad and his horde of offspring. You know Vex was the only one who could keep Goad in line.”
The memory of Goad pressing his finger into my face, drawing out my energy as he practically licked his chops, was enough to make me shiver. He had kidnapped me from the street on Vex’s orders, wrapped me in a straitjacket, and handed me over to Dread. I still hadn’t managed to process that horrible, helpless feeling.
“We’ll feel Goad coming from at least a block away,” I said. “We’ll have plenty of time to barricade ourselves upstairs if any demon tries to get close.”
Shock crossed her arms. “If you open up the bar, Ram is going to come skulking back here disguised as a patron. We would never know.”
I remembered his expression as he left; it was the face of Theo Ram, the persona he’d been wearing when I first met him, a cabbie and womanizer with a thing for damsels in distress. Handsome in a rugged way, with a strong-boned face, dark curling hair, and gray eyes that spoke to me across the room.
I couldn’t think about Ram. It made me feel flushed and no amount of effort to control my own physiological responses could stop my reaction. I didn’t want to expose myself any more than I already had.
“If you hadn’t been messing around with him,” Shock added, “you wouldn’t have her as a problem.”
“Bliss was coming anyway,” I mumbled. “I just needed a . . . cleaner energy than what Pique had given me.”
In the silence, Bliss said, “I wish Ram had told you how he hides his signature. I’d have a lot of fun sneaking up on other demons, if I knew how.”
Shock kept ignoring her. “How are you going to explain Blondie here? The police will be back here asking questions. If another gunman doesn’t get here first and shoot up the bar again.”
I looked at Bliss carefully. “She can be a friend visiting from California. Someone I knew in high school.”
Bliss shrugged as if she didn’t care one way or the other. “As long as I don’t have to pretend I’m a loser.” Thankfully she didn’t add, like you.
“Why don’t you lift up the shutter, Bliss?” I suggested. “If I’m going to get shot at again, it better happen now while three indestructible demons are in here ins
tead of a bar full of customers.”
But I doubted there would be another drive-by shooting since I had told Dennis Mackleby, commissioner of New York City Planning, that if I was attacked again I would expose the evidence I had of him taking bribes from the Fellowship of Truth. The Fellowship, a so-called church, had been run by Vex and Dread like an organized-crime family, paying off politicians and city employees to get what they wanted—and they had used my bar as the drop-off for those payments. Over the past fifty years, the Fellowship’s message of selfempowerment and philosophy of “There’s No Such Thing as a Free Lunch” had garnered nearly a million faithful followers. But I knew it was just the latest in a series of churches the two demons had controlled, going all the way back to Constantinople.
Bliss went straight to the peg under the bar where I hid the padlock key, and then outside to open the metal shutter that pulled down over the front windows and door. It was a little eerie to see her practiced motions. Before yesterday, she didn’t exist. Now she moved around listening to my voice in her head. Why didn’t it make her crazy, like it drove me out of my mind to think my progenitor’s thoughts?
She pushed the shutter partway up and left it so the sun came in the lower half of the front windows. Just like I did when I was opening up.
Shock was frowning. “Ram’s going to come back. I saw how he was looking at you, like he wanted to eat you up. Like you belong to him.”
“I know he tried to kill you, Shock—”
“Twice,” she reminded me. “After he seduced you to get inside your apartment, where I was lying in a stupor, unable to defend myself.”
“You think I haven’t been telling myself that? I know what Ram did, better than anyone. He lied to me over and over. But he also saved my life—twice, if you count helping me steal Pique’s essence. ...”
I couldn’t go on. I still wasn’t sure about that gaping, yawning hole in my celebrated return from the near dead. The price of my life had been bought with Pique’s death. Though I had been born a human, after murdering Pique, I could no longer lay claim to my humanity. I was a killer, a cannibal, a monster with a guilty conscience.
