Devonn has lived his entire life in Darkness and chained to the will of another for centuries. When the chance to become free arrives in the form of an ancient soul, Devonn grabs it and runs. But taking the soul and keeping it are two different things. Hunted by demons and a stubborn soul that tests his sanity, Devonn seeks sanctuary with a group of survivors, but he doesn’t expect to find himself drawn to the surly ironsmith thwarting his charms.
Since the world fell into Darkness and unleashed the monsters that prowl the Earth, Mitch Banos has seen more than his fair share of death. With people dying and dangers closing in around the group from all sides, Mitch is sure that attachment to people is a bad idea. Devonn’s persistence pays off, but with the fae woods closing in around the group’s tiny sanctuary and traitors in their midst, Mitch finds himself betrayed and trapped among the fae.
Devonn rushes to find Mitch, which leaves the survivors vulnerable to the traitor within. With the soul tugging at Devonn’s sanity, finding Mitch may become far more difficult than Devonn had expected. With so many things pulling at him, it’ll be a miracle if they all survive…
Advisory: This book contains graphic violence, hardcore bondage and punishment, torture and blood play. May not be suitable for the more sensitive reader.
A shadow flickered overhead to his right, and Devonn looked up slowly at the massive black banshee clinging to the ceiling. Her smoky tentacles wove around the steel rigging like a web. Thick black claws wrapped around a pale figure in her grasp. The man’s eyes were open, staring at nothing, mouth slack and body limp. The banshee’s wispy black body rippled in sleep, her hollow gray face relaxed and eyes closed after her feast.
Devonn forced the muscles in his shoulders to unwind a notch. A well-fed banshee slept soundly, not that he wanted to take any chances.
He needed food. He could wait to try to find a way to repair the talisman later. Food was much more important right now.
He scanned the area and his eyes fell on a can of food among a pile of shredded candy wrappers, fresh blood and gum foil, under a broken upturned shelf. His mouth watered and he forced himself to look around and take his time. Rushing would get him killed before starvation set in.
Moving with extra care, he eased closer to the pile. The food, only a few yards away, taunted him like a glittering red jewel.
Muffled sounds behind him made his heart skip a beat. He spun around as the shadows of several people passed the grime-thick windows of the store.
“In here, hurry!” a voice called.
“Shit,” Devonn muttered, looking up at the sleeping banshee.
He started to move back toward the entrance, but it was much too late. The newcomers burst through the heavy glass door; the groaning hinges’ objection vibrated around the store. The echo bounced through the empty space, and the banshee stirred.
The air changed and a scent filled the room like a sea breeze. Salty and warm. The scent so fresh his stomach clenched, screaming for that taste in his mouth. The shadowy figure overhead opened her eyes and she dropped her food to the ground. Black eyes met his.
She hissed and opened her mouth.
“Dark man!” she screamed.
Devonn raised his shotgun and fired, but her howl had begun. A low moan sang from her lips and quivered in his bones. The sound grew louder, turning into a howling shriek that threatened to eat into his brain.
“Fucking bitch!” he snarled, the pain dropping him to his knees. He squeezed his hands over his ears to dampen the sound of her wail. The pain in his skull grew, reaching through his hands. Blood trickled from his nose. The shriek cut into his brain, and ground away at his skull.
“Banshee!” a voice shouted.
A body threw itself across the room at him, tackling him to the ground. The room exploded into a deafening roar of gunfire. The banshee wail eased over the thunder of the weapons, and Devonn turned to the man lying on top of him. Liquid brown eyes stared down at him. It wasn’t often handsome men fell into his lap. He could get used to this.
“Here!” the man shouted over the howling banshee wail and heavy headphones clamped down over Devonn’s ears.
All sound disappeared. He wiped the blood from his face and movement flickered overhead.
A woman was tangled in the banshee’s grip, her screams muted by the protective gear and her face contorted in pain. The tendrils squeezed around her fragile body and blood spilled from her lips.
She choked and thrashed before going still. The banshee’s face twisted into another scream and she tossed the woman aside like a rag-doll. Her black eyes swept the crowd and narrowed on Devonn.
Cursing, Devonn grabbed the man on top of him and shoved him aside. Pulling up the shotgun, he unloaded into the smoky figure as it started toward them. Silver shot sprayed up at the banshee, and the vapors twisted and jerked. Her gray face twisted into a scream. Her teeth, like a mouth full of daggers, swept toward them.
Devonn scrambled to his feet and jerked the man up beside him. A tendril of the banshee’s body lashed out toward them. Devonn braced himself and the blow sent them both flying through the air.
More muzzle flashes flickered through the store as others pumped rounds into the she-beast.Devonn landed hard across the register table. His arm gave an evil pop on impact and hot pain spiked through his shoulder.
The vapors reached out for him again, and he unloaded two rounds into the creature before rolling to the ground behind the register.
He found himself face to face with the dying woman, her chest crushed by the banshee and eyes round with panic and pain. Devonn studied her a moment. Sometimes life was full of happy accidents.