by G. Bailey
Sinful As Hell
The Demon Academy: Book One
G. Bailey
Contents
Description
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Note From The Author.
Stay in Touch
About the Author
Sinful as Hell © 2019 G. Bailey
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edits by Serious Moonlight Editing.
Edits by Polished Perfection
Created with Vellum
Description
This academy is like no other . . .
My name is Lexi Cameron, and until three weeks ago, I thought I was human.
It was all a lie.
I’m a demon, and I’m signed up to attend The Demon Academy.
I soon find out it’s the darkest, cruelest school around, and not many survive a full year, let alone three.
Welcome to DA, where unless you are a high demon, you can expect to be treated like trash.
My plan?
To be invisible and get the hell out of this academy, but it doesn’t work out that way . . .
I have one angel teacher trying to get rid of me, the students of DA making sure I know what a demon can do, and I’m not going to survive Demon Academy for long.
That is until the Lucifer sons see me.
They want to break me,
they love to play games with my heart,
and even if I wanted to run from them . . . I can’t.
I’m apparently their mate.
And just like their father’s home, hell can’t be escaped.
Dark Bully Academy Romance. 18+
Prologue
Lexi
Ten years ago
“Shhh, Alexandria,” my mother begs me, slamming her dusty hand onto my mouth as she holds me to her chest in the closet, so close I can hear her heart beating fast. My messy brown hair covers my face as I try not to sneeze from the dust on the toys in here. These are my toys long forgotten over the years, and now they hold some comfort. Like they can protect me somehow. Tears fall down my cheeks, dripping onto my mom’s hand as I try to stay quiet, to do as I’m told. It’s so dark in here, only a strip of light sneaks through the bottom of the door, shining on my red shoes that Dad bought me last week. Where is Dad?
I try to think back to today. I was drawing in my room, doing as I was told because Mom had friends over, and then suddenly Mom ran in and grabbed me, hiding us both in my cupboard by my bed.
“Shhh! It’s going to be okay,” Mom whispers to me, her voice catching. I’m not quiet enough. My tears are too loud; my breathing is too loud. I have to be quiet. All I can hear from the other side of the cupboard door is screaming and shouting, the sound of breaking glass and loud smashes. I don’t know what is out there . . . but I’m scared because my mom is scared. My body shakes so hard as I watch the cupboard door, endlessly waiting until there is nothing but silence. I look down and gulp as I see thick red blood sliding through the gap under the door, making the light disappear as it hits my red shoes. It’s not the same red; it’s different.
It's dark, it’s frightening, and I want to crawl away from it, but I can’t move as Mom holds me so tight.
I soon realise the silence is worse than the noise, every loud heartbeat of both mine and my mom’s jolts me. Suddenly the doors are pulled open, and Mom throws me off her lap, protectively standing in front of me. I’m sure her hands glow red, but when I look again, it’s gone.
“Leo!” Mom shouts, throwing her arms around my dad, who is covered in black blood. He looks frantic as he runs his eyes over me and then to Mom. Why is he covered in blood? Why does he look so scary?
“We have to leave. Now!” he desperately tells us, letting Mom go. He picks me up off the ground, holding me to his chest. “Cover your eyes and count to ten. You don’t need to see this.” I bury my head into my dad’s shoulders, closing my eyes and counting like he tells me to.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven . . . and I open my eyes. Just once. Just to see what Dad didn’t want me to see.
I saw nothing but death.
Chapter 1
The cat talks
“You know my bowl is still empty as you feed these mortals,” Amethyst protests, sliding her tail around my legs as I try not to smile while I serve a middle-aged woman soup from the steaming pot in front of me.
“Thank you,” the woman gratefully says as she gets a bread roll off the side, and I nod, smiling gently at her.
“Don’t forget to check in at the clothing and bedding section before seven o’clock. They close up after seven for the night,” I explain to her, knowing she is new and it’s getting late. Then again, everyone is new these days. I run my eyes over her patchy and ripped dress, the rucksack on her back, and her hollow cheeks. She isn’t eating much, and I bet she is sleeping rough most nights.
My parents have been running the local food bank for many years, while we live in the church apartment. The food bank started as a small organisation and turned into one of the most needed organisations in the world after New York, London, and Greece were destroyed a few months ago by god knows what. Many people said it was a natural disaster; some said it was a woman who had powers. It’s hard to know what photos are photoshopped and what story is real these days.
Either way, the world changed from the peaceful one I had grown up in. The survivors didn’t have anywhere to live, let alone a way to find work and get food. Food soon became scarce as world trade came to a stop, and only recently has it been sorted out enough for us to give out food in places like this. We live just outside Edinburgh, and Scotland became the best place for everyone to run because the Scottish government decided to try and help. Only issue is, they didn’t really help like they said they would on the telly.
The government just doesn’t care about them. I reckon they said they would help to look good, and that’s why I am here after school every day helping my parents the best I can to run this place. We have a hundred rooms in the church, and eighty of those rooms have four-person families in them. The other twenty rooms usually change as people realise they can’t get work in our town and move on to the city nearby.
“Thanks for the advice,” she says, her voice thick with emotion as tears fall down her cheeks. I reach over and place my hand on her arm for just a moment. It isn’t easy for people to ask for help. Pride is a tricky thing, after all. It stops you getting help most of the time.
“You should get going. You’re going to be late to that date,” Mum reminds me, coming to my side. I didn’t even see her come out of the
back room where she was helping my dad cook. Mum does the paperwork, and Dad cooks. It’s a good team, even if they are in love in that sickly over-the-top way. Mum gives me a look of understanding as her deep cerulean-blue eyes drift over to the woman walking away, and back to me before she tucks her black hair behind her ears. I unclip my yellow apron that has a smattering of holes and burn marks on it and hand it to her. We share an apron—and most of our clothes—as we are the same size. Dad says we are short and sweet. I don’t think sweet is a word that accurately describes me, but it certainly does describe my mum. She clips it on and stands back, placing her hands on her hips as she surveys the room. It’s busier than usual today, which isn’t a good thing, and I see it in her expression.
“It’s just a first date. He might just want to hang out, and he might not like me,” I point out.
“Sure, two seventeen-year-olds just ‘hanging out.’ He looks at you like a friend too,” she sarcastically replies. The only person that beats my mum’s level of sarcasm is me, and even then, I’m impressed by the things she comes out with.
“Your mother is lying. The boy looks at you like he wishes to eat you whole,” Amethyst remarks, and I turn to glare at her, wishing she wouldn’t talk to me in front of people. “I’m certain his new mission in life is to get inside your panties.” I blank my expression, a thing I’ve gotten used to doing since Amethyst first spoke to me.
I’m pretty sure talking to your cat isn’t normal and could quite possibly get me locked up if anyone found out. Mum doesn’t hear Amethyst. Lucky her. I lean down, picking Amethyst up, and carry her to the back door.
“What have we talked about before?” I whisper to her, making sure no one is around before I talk.
“No talking to you when mortals are around. I know, I know, but my stomach betrayed me. I am so hungry,” she grumbles, sounding like she is one meal short of death or something. I stroke her silky black fur, hearing her purr as I carry on walking.
“Your stomach always betrays you, and you are always hungry,” I point out.
“It has been such a long time since food arrived in my bowl,” she says, acting like she is going to pass out soon. I swear this cat is so overdramatic. Why couldn’t I have picked a normal, non-talking cat? One that would just meow at me when it was hungry? No, I get the inner monologue of the craziest cat in town.
“I fed you at twelve, you little liar,” I mutter, and Amethyst just looks up at me with her strange purple eyes. I should have known purple eyes weren’t normal for a cat when I picked her up from the shelter.
I should have known there was a reason that no one else wanted to adopt her and five families had brought her back after a few days. But oh no, I was a sucker for a sob story. I was so, so excited to get a cat for my sixteenth birthday, and my parents have it ingrained in me to help the needy.
That is until I realised this cat could talk, and she is crazy with no boundaries.
“So long since I ate. I might die at this rate, and then what would you do without me?” she moans, and I shake my head as I push the door open.
“What couldn’t I do without you, huh?” I mutter to her, and she only innocently purrs in response. I run up the stairs and into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind me. I place Amethyst on the floor and quickly fill her food bowl up before going to my room. I don’t even get a thank you before she is eating her heart out. I try three different outfits on before giving up and looking at myself in my mirror. My skinny jeans are a little too tight, but that isn’t a bad thing, and my white shirt might be a risk given the fact I regularly miss my mouth when I’m eating. I’m gonna risk it. I brush my straight brown hair and look at my pouty lips before putting on some pale nude lipstick. A little mascara later, and I think I look okay.
It’s not a real date anyway.
Or at least I’m telling myself that, or I’d never leave this church.
Chapter 2
It’s not a date
“You look very beautiful today,” John says, fixing his tie that looks like something his dad gave him to wear, as I try to smile. I’m pretty sure when I force a smile, it does not make me look attractive. I look like the Cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland. I decide to focus on my date, see if I can find something to make this less awkward. Why are dates always awkward? The whole suit doesn’t work well for John; it’s too big, for one, and he looks seriously uncomfortable in it as he wriggles in his seat every few seconds. He is sweating a little bit, and I watch one drop of sweat slide down his forehead to his nose before he wipes it away.
“This isn’t a date; you don’t have to do the compliment thing,” I point out.
“It isn’t?” he asks with a frown marking his pretty face.
“Nope,” I say, picking my menu up. “And I will be paying for my food.”
“But I—”
“Look, you are sweet and good-looking. It’s just we aren’t compatible, and we both know that. My parents have been going on at me that I don’t have any friends and I don’t date...so here we are. Once this date is over, they will stop going on at me for at least two weeks,” I say and instantly regret as tears brim in his eyes. Mum and Dad say I’m always too harsh to everyone, but I’m sure I didn’t say anything too mean then.
Did I?
“I should leave,” John says, pushing up his glasses. Before I can protest, he is running out of the restaurant, and I shake my head, knowing that this was a bad idea.
“A man should never leave a woman as spectacular as you all alone,” a smooth, deep, and sexy voice purrs. “Who knows what trouble you could get into.” I look up to see the most flipping gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen. Silky white locks of hair fall over his forehead, his eyes are a perfect shade of green that I can’t even compare to anything else, his skin is tanned, and his muscular body fills out the tight white shirt and black trousers he is wearing.
Holy all things in hell, where did he come from?
“I think I scared him off,” I mutter. I’m surprised any words came out of my mouth at all; I feel like it’s just dried up from the holy hotness in front of me.
“A little thing like you?” he teases and tuts his tongue, and I laugh. “May I join you?”
“Sure,” I say, and he smirks as he slides into the seat opposite me, his leg brushing against mine, and I shiver from the contact. I feel like I can’t take my eyes off him. “I’ve been ever so rude. My name is Luc; what is yours?”
“Alexandria, but people close to me call me Lexi,” I reply. Luc is a sexy man name for sure.
“Alexandria.” My name is spoken so softly on his lips. I find myself liking my name for the first time in my life. “You shouldn’t shorten it; it suits you.”
“Isn’t Luc short for something?” I ask.
“Well, while you ask—” He stops talking as my phone rings in my bag.
“I’m sorry, one second,” I say, and I see him nod in the corner of my eye as I open my bag, pushing aside my keys with a giant heart-shaped keyring I won in the arcades a few months ago, and grab my phone. I frown when I see it’s my dad calling me. He never calls me. I unlock my phone and answer the call, hearing nothing but heavy breathing for a second before Dad’s hurried voice shouts down the phone.
“Come back home. Now!” The line goes dead, and I shake my head in confusion, shoving my phone back into my bag.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” I explain.
“Is everything okay?” he asks politely.
“Yes, I’m sure it is or will be. Sorry again,” I say, climbing out my seat and looking back at Luc as I walk away. Flipping dammit, I finally meet a hot guy, and I’m leaving him behind. I run out of the restaurant and across the empty street to the church, only to pause when I see a shadow of a man in the doorway.
“A church is a funny place for a family of demons to hide.” The gravelly voice makes me nervous as I step back, and the man steps forward into the light. He wears a hood that drops down to his stomach, with two slits for his eyes th
at I can’t see very well from what looks like a mask under the hood. He holds two shiny red swords in either hand, and something about him really scares me.
“Halloween isn’t for another three months,” I tell him, looking around me and seeing nothing but the empty street and the diner in the distance. If I run to the diner, maybe Luc is still there, and he can help me hide from the creeper. The cold wind blows around me as I look back at the strange, hooded man.
“Your parents have been captured for breaking the sacred demon law. Come with me now, or you will break the same law and face the same fate.”
“Where are my parents?” I ask him, stepping back once more. Something is so very wrong. Did he just say my family are demons and broke the law? What a flipping load of crap.
“Don’t do this the hard way, little demon. I do like innocent virgins just like you for my dinner, and no one knows you exist at all. It would be too easy,” he says, seeming to ponder over some crazy idea of eating me as I try not to puke.
“Sorry, you’re not my type, mate. You can go and fuck yourself if you think—” I scream as he moves in the blink of an eye and is in front of me. He moved so fast, too fast. The hilt of his sword slams into the side of my head in the next blink of an eye, and darkness takes me under without a fight at all.
