Retribution, Devotion (16 page)

Her hands started to shake with anger. Her senses flashed red while she carefully pulled the talon out. She was so sorry for the child.
This should not have happened,
played around in her mind. Sadness engulfed her while she kneeled over the unconscious child.

Her mother used to hold her whenever she was hurting and for now, that was what she felt like doing. Sanna pressed her hands over the girl's wound rocking her back and forth in her arms. Her tears splayed across the little girl's face and her body quaked with her agony in not being able to save the girl.

Sanna could feel the demon watching in amusement. Through Kyo's eyes, she saw how he noticed the way her skin illuminated as if it were warm gold. His incessant laughter was full of satisfaction, and malice fell upon her ears before he casually walked forward then ran at her. His enormous form hunkered down then tackled Sanna, causing both her and the fallen little girl to tumble backward on the concrete.

Sanna found herself pinned by the Snatcher's large form. His sour breath and ironclad grip around her neck choked her while he forced his face into her own.

“So you are the bitch our King put a hit out for. You seem weak and worthless. I'll enjoy bringing you to my Sovereign,” the demon roared low against her ear.

Sanna frantically screamed in disgust. Her skin felt as if a million beetles were crawling within and on her skin. She felt her body lock down from a multitude of seizures that pressed against her. A memory from her past let her know that this entity fed on its prey's mind, toying with their worst fears. Hands reached for her, pulling at her, touching at places that no one but her Khamun had ever touched and she cried at the pain being inflicted upon her.

Moist breathe bristled against her skin. “You're so weak, and so delicious in your fear and anger. I never thought you'd be so easy to have; others were weak fools! Now give me more, pretty Oracle.” The demon continued his taunting, enjoying every minute of it. “You are so frail, so useless against us. Your true self lost to you, huh? My King will enjoy this information. Let me in deeper. I like that tightness you are giving me.”

Sanna's eyes ripped open at the sensation of Khmaun's burning anger close by. She had begged him not to intervene when it got too hard for her and right now she wish she hadn't. The demon's mental invasion made the pit of her stomach bottom out. She jerked forward then slashed, before clawing at the demon. A force from within her made her punch forward to slash vertically again.

The sensation of uncomfortably hot, spongy tendons embraced her fist and arm. She knew she felt the heating dagger still in her hand. Both the dagger and she lit up in eternal light. The demon tried to pull away but she only pressed her body closer to wrap her legs around its waist. The tentacle he had implanted in her mind shriveling away, breaking off into a husk. Satisfaction strengthened her resolve to press on while her incisors ripped from her gums into its battle length with the sudden need to feed.

“I'm so hungry,” fluttered from her mouth, in which Sanna complied giving into that burning deprivation. Hard bone inserted into tough, sinewy flesh. Her tongue flittered then pressed against the flush of hot, thick liquid. She tasted the salty, metallic rich essence of the demon and suddenly millions of screaming voices filled her mind. The airy evanescence impression of something she could only describe tasting like cotton candy hit her palate. She knew this had to be the sins of every human, Nephilim, and other demons this monster had ever met.

This bastard was good at the game of blending in and taking what he wanted. He and his “wife” were part of an international banking and financial conglomerate. They stole money from many unknowing customers by making them sign up for predatory loans, stale stocks, and failing bonds. They stole many poor's or working poor's homes by buying their land from under them.

They were also in the designer drug game and human trafficking market, of which this little girl was going to be the next victim. They intended to turn her into their human doll by shipping her off to a client in Paris with a load of designer drugs placed upon her. The little girl's parents had been college graduates deceived into believing that they were signing up for an international job program. This program was told to pay for overflowing college debts, but in reality, the foundation stalked and recruited only to traffic the people who became a part of their company. This was madness!

Ripping her hand out of the chest cavity of the demon, Sanna's eyes shifted into night vision. Behind her lay the body of the Anarchy demon's Dark Gargoyle lying in many pieces like confetti. She saw Kyo watching attentively, wiping her bloodied nails off then resting an arm on Khamun's shoulder. Khamun stood proud holding the sleeping little girl in his arms.

She saw the thin threads of souls the demon consumed and tainted throughout its body filtering into the air. That knowledge of that with the many voices and compounding emotions of the spirits in her body made her lunge her hands into the demon's convulsing form. Tacky fleshy goo covered her.

“Now who is lying in shaking fear for the first time of its existence?” Sanna cooed, anger causing her skin to shimmer with her divine power.

“Please, I'll give you intel, anything you want, just stop this,” the demon pleaded.

Sanna heard Khamun behind her.

His silky, husky voice was icy and slightly seductive when he spoke. “You will lie there and let her finish her kill. Do not plead for shit. You don't have a right to, my man. You forfeited everything the moment you allowed yourself to be created. Then you forfeited that for the second time the moment you laid a hand on her holy form. So, kick back and enjoy it.”

Sanna's eyes widened at the simplicity and coldness of how Khamun delivered that response. Her skin felt saturated in his love and desire. The way he supported her gave her power in and of itself, which had her briefly looking over her shoulder at him. He stood draped in darkness with the moonlight.

His elegant, crinkled locks fell down around his shoulders. His plush lips glistened from him licking them and his mahogany rich skin seemed to emit its own shine from his power. Her eyes wanted to drink his broad Egyptian Michelangelo-carved body. To strip him down and kiss every raised scar on his abdomen, his arm, and neck, but his nod and heated stare told her to return her attention to her prey. His slick fanged smile left her breasts feeling swollen with desire in that sweet moment.

A bashful smile played across her face while she glanced at her support. She wasn't the type to find humor in gore. However, in this moment, she found herself almost laughing when she saw the demon's eyes widen once they locked on Khamun's scowling face. It also caused her to smash the demon's windpipe with her hand.

“Hey, look at me. Today is your judgment day.” Her honeyed gaze forced the demon's attention. Sanna felt the monster try to fight her hold again, but whatever she had done before when she forced him down had slowed his movements. Thankfully, this allowed her time to take her diamond
kila
dagger in her hand and flicked her wrist cutting at each thread in the air connecting to the Anarchy demon. As she cut and cut, the entity let out a scream that shook the dark alley. Puddles of blood rippled when the demon screamed and he went rigid. It made Sanna cut slowly to inflict more of her own torture on the demon for retribution from its victims. Prayers spilled from her lips adding to the demon's agony while she worked.

Feet pounding against a puddle of blood alerted her to Khamun suddenly by her side crouching low. His large hand pulled her close to him by the back of her neck. He held out his wrist in offering for her. The sensuality within the act had her heady in need. Her arousal blossomed with the need to feed. It slammed harder into her in that moment of the magnetic pull of his scent and she found her incisors sinking into his spicy, sweet wrist. His moan ripped through her, covering her pulsing mound while she slashed at the threads of the demon and fed.

Each voice that had ebbed from her went into him. Shock hit her when Khamun's eyes turned black. She noticed the way he dropped down like a rabid dog to rip the demon's throat apart. Black-red blood splashed everywhere and the monster caved in like a husk before imploding into a miasmic mist, which Khamun absorbed.

The hard momentum of that absorption connected to her and almost knocked her head back. Her lover took his wrist from her mouth to place his splayed hand over her heart. A pressure filled her body to slowly flux within her like a wave. Its gentle undulation caused her head to drop back then forward against his chest before the pulse transferred into Khamun. His roar made her heart palpitate a thousand times while he expelled the sins from the demon, sending the innocent souls to the Most High.

A sedative, warming peace flowed over her body, claiming her. Her skin felt ultra-sensitive and tender. Her nipples pressed taut against her shirt and her swollen yoni throbbed in need. She needed her Khamun in the most biblical way. Moreover, as he dropped his head forward in a slump, his locks swung forward to curtain his ruggedly sexy face. Sweat covered his thick body. His wings stroked her wings, and she knew by his tight grip that he needed her too.

“Ah, so I'll leave you both to yourself and take the little girl to the safe house. You healed her somehow, sis, so, ah yeah, bye.” Kyo's amused voice interrupted her hazy thoughts.

Sanna saw Kyo pop a lollipop in her mouth then tilt her head to the side still watching in protection while glancing around the alley and above their heads. Her god sister then turned on the soles of her feet, holding the sleeping girl in her arms. San noticed that Kyo's aura funneled around the girl as a shield before she lifted them both in the night air to fly off with her golden wings expanded casting a soft flicker of light.

Warmth encompassed her. A deep rumbling “Mine,” from within Khamun's throat had Sanna finding herself on her back. Her curly hair spilled onto the wet pavement with her mate deep within her. She hadn't even realized she was naked in his embrace but the swift pulsing potency of his thickness hitting home pleasingly shocked her into awareness.

Her world and that alley melted away into the familiar softness of their bed while he locked on to every nerve in her suddenly cleansed body. As the silky suction of his heated mouth made her kitty constrict around his engorged shaft, his large, rough palms trailed the curving planes of her body. Sanna's lashes delightfully closed at the feel of his lips tracing down her body, while he introduced her lotus to the different ways he knew how to savor and kiss her.

A soft, guttural sigh melted from Sanna's mouth ending in a sweet whisper of love: “Yours.”

Nydia was locked in a dream. The acid taste of metal lined her throat as she flinched at the feeling of her hands being bound. The odor of an abundance of fish, mixed with urine, blood, and other putrid scents assaulted her system. It made her want to scream. Links of iron held her down. Cuts on her body and around her neck seared her in pain from the dried water from outside of her moving prison, which seeped into their openings.

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. That inkling of fear within her wanted to dance in the darkest corners of her mind, but instinct dictated that she was born not to fear those who captured her. She was born to kill them, to place that very fear they used to gain their prisoners against them by returning it threefold over within their dark husks. Her adored prince had taken down all in his path to get to her to no avail. She was forced to watch him fall, taken down in front of her. Her precious jaguars, each one she controlled on indivisible mental tethers, lay dead at her feet while she fought; but eventually she was violated by the dark bite.

She screamed for him at that moment at the feel of the taint in her system, “Kwame!”

She screamed for him as they sequestered her then submitted her to horrendous experiments before sealing her now-corrupted body into Purgatory. She never stopped screaming his name even when she felt her soul spread with evil. She screamed while the little bit of light within her was set free by a beautiful woman whose eyes shined with hope, but whose body smelled of the Cursed. She shrieked and fought for freedom, confused by the woman who appeared before her and led her to her salvation. She praised the Most High, crying for her lost love as she shed that tainted form and was reborn fresh but marked with a dark tracer unbeknownst to her.

Her dream shifted to a new scene where she screamed at a house that she felt was hers. Her pretty room with its many stuffed animals and toys was being set ablaze by a team who swore to protect her kind as was their duty within the light but lied. She felt as if she were a young child. Tears rimmed her eyes and her soul broke by the false Protectors. They were a group corrupted by the very dark she had run from. They made her lose everything.

She shrieked in horror and loss when her attackers killed her parents. Their bodies were taken, along with her, to be tortured in front of her. Played with like dolls by an evil, crazed King. She felt herself cower in fear when that false King laughed in finding her again before submitting her to ritual experiments that turned her into what she was now: a monster. Her once pure body and spirit were locked into a vessel transformed by a Cursed demon and she screamed and screamed and screamed. The words, “As it was before, so shall it be again,” cried from her soul and covered her in flickering holy light before it snuffed out.

She thrashed out, waking in agony. “Calvinnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!”

Jerking up with a start the Medusa haphazardly glanced around her private condominium, a place she always rested her head before tracking Nephilims. Her mind and body felt on fire. The right side of her ribcage seared. Her skin pulsed and ached at the touch. The illegible writing she was born with was red and swollen where she clutched at her right side. She pushed her sweat-drenched covers from her body then emptied her stomach on her bamboo wooden floor. She knew it was a smart thing not to stay back at the Cursed fortress or near Reina due to the Mad King and his daughter's animalistic temperament. That prickly feeling she was feeling lately within her hallowed heart, after being touched by the Reaper, alerted her that something was about to happen. So she made her plans then pushed up her orders of hunting more Nephilims, especially that Oracle, and she came to her downtown condo.

Her spine was killing her, which was not abnormal for her. The sensitive protrusions of exposed bone always bothered her due to how she was created. However, that wasn't the only issue. It felt as if her skin around it had been stretched then pushed back together, only to be ripped apart again as it once was. Had she wings, she would have thought that was the problem, but it wasn't the issue at hand.

She hated this body regardless of how voluptuous and curvy she was. Pinpricking pain ripped at her backbone causing every nerve in her back and spinal protrusions to throb with each inhale she took and her tail to relase and madly whipping against her. It often hurt for her to release her spial razor tail, which is why she didn't release it often. The pain was too much, like it was now. She refused to let any tears fall. She hadn't cried ever and she was not about to start now. That was not who she was.

Pushing from her bed, Nydia stood in her naked glory, forcing her tail away. Silky mahogany syrup was what she had heard her skin called. Parts of her were flawless while other areas of her skin were covered in raised scales like that of a reptile. Nydia let the flat of her hands trace over her body, cupping her bare mound, then upward to cradle her breasts. Each breast was plump like that of a melon. Her nipples were peaked thanks to the cool air. Down her back, the protrusions of her spinal cord curved in spikes of various sizes, stopping at the curve of her ass. It was nice being a demon.

She was a beauty, but she was also a beast. Speaking of, an Initiate lay in her bed just as naked as she was and dead. His blood covered her as she painfully walked from the bed and let her eyes adjust to the dark. Something was happening to her and it was pissing her off. Ever since the fight on that roof, when the Oracle ripped her arm from her and when that man, the one she couldn't believe she had just called out to, touched her to hit her with his Mystic magic, her nightmares had not been the same.

“I shouldn't be having these fucking dreams!” she roared to herself then pulled out a mop to clean the mess on her floor. She couldn't believe herself. She was a Cursed minion, having nightmares!

Coffee pupils glanced toward the form of the dead male in a sigh. She had hoped that his thick shaft and expert mouth would put that prickly feeling at ease. But as she rode his handsome face, her mind twisted and she saw that man from her dreams, her enemy bringing her pleasure that connected to that prickly feeling within her chest. Fury had fueled her, which resulted in her swiftly killing the Initiate at the same moment of cumming over his face. She should have let his body cook in the sun, but then, that would have put her at risk from burning as well and she had enough to deal with as it was.

“I'm going mad. That is what this is. This is insanity and the Dark Lady should end me now. I am not good for her,” she hissed aloud to herself.

Annoyance caused her to fall with a plop on the bed shaking the mattress. Her broom clanked as it fell at her feet to the floor. The Initiate's body was finally evaporating into a miasmic mist, leaving her bed empty and covered in black-red blood.

Fresh turns always take long to die,
she inwardly contemplated, running her hands over her semi-scaled thighs. Nydia fell backward on her bed while her mind churned. She couldn't understand that dream. She didn't remember any of those things ever happening to her, but it felt as if it was her. It had to be some taint from the Light. Otherwise, she didn't know what was going on.

Shaking her head, she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes then mumbled to herself, “Maybe it's a Nephilim. Another thorn in my back to track, it has to be.”

Propelling herself from the bed with an annoyed growl, Nydia pulled at the sheets of the bed in an angry tantrum then threw them to the floor. She had other things to worry about. Some silly dream was not one of them. While she cleaned, the sound of her cell phone drew her attention.

“What!” she snarled.

A familiar masculine voice chimed on the other side, causing her to narrow her eyes. “You know what. Meet me near West Chicago Avenue.”

With that, the line went dead. This was her life. Orders and demands. Tossing her cell on her bed, she headed to her walk-in closet. Slamming her hand against a hidden panel against the frame of the closet door, her row of clothes parted, as if one was watching a curtain reveal. The many items slid to the side revealing various weapons and poisons. This was her world, her place of domain. Nydia reached to the right over her, snatching a revealing pair of black skinny jeans that were cut on the sides and fastened with various barbs of wire. Pulling out a drawer, she found an equally revealing black top that highlighted her ample bosoms. Before her, a row of glass bottles and bowls filled with fluid had her reaching for a flask of venom.

She calmly twisted the cap open, and then dipped her fingers into the contents. The pleasurable feel of her venom stacks underneath her nails plumping with the new poisonous mix made her smile. Sealing the deliciously rancid mixture, she turned to grab her black Timbs then slide on her poison-tipped dagger boots.
No, heels needed later.
Before her call, she was on her way out of the house. She had picked up the faint thread of a human with the Nephilim gene whose blood scent matched what she needed for a fresh new Initiate for Valac.

He needed a nanny so his bastard of a father had explained and since she already was looking for a new Initiate for Reina, the Medusa figured why not this human. The Medusa enjoyed chasing humans then turning them. The ability to possess and corrupt them was so easy and the fact that this one was human with a distant Nephilim link made it all more fun for her. She enjoyed the frozen looks on their faces while they looked upon their death. Something about it all made it so sensational for her and her lips itched to bite into the tender flesh of this new target.

With a slap against her closet doorframe, she listened to the doors shut and return to normal. With a serpentine saunter toward her counter, she grabbed the keys to her ride and assortment of personal identification cards. Throwing her bag of weapons and clothes over her shoulder, Nydia moved to stand inside of her private elevator. She pulled the gate down, locking it and headed out.

“Time to go.” She gleefully smirked as the name
Calvin
and the words
as it was before, so shall it be again
echoed in her mind, causing her to scream. The bottom of her boots slammed into the sides of her elevator as she lashed out at the air in fury.

Smoke accosted her nostrils. Cackles with drunken drawls surrounded her, plucking at her annoyance. She was in a cesspool. The scent of various human dejection and depravities made her hungry to taste their blood and to add to the infection of their sins. The Medusa's nails lightly tapped the glass of spumante she cradled in her hands. Time was wasting away. She had a gig to make in time.

“Which is why I called you for this meeting, my dear Harpy,” a voice crooned near her. Casually walking through the smoke fog that was the tavern, Nydia noticed the one person on this earth she hated, but admired at the same time, Fallen Elder Jacques Fur'i. If she were in the Cursed kingdom she would have stood, but since they were on human ground, she could give two shits. At his side, an attractive brunette took his cane then stepped back to speak to a gruff older man near the bar. The woman's ruddy lips parted in a fanged smile with a subtle shift under her cinnamon skin.
Succubus, more so a Dark Witch; interesting companion,
ran through the Medusa's mind.

Sipping her drink, Nydia gave a nod. “My Lord Fur'i, what is your request?”

Sitting across from her, she studied the Elder's alluring features. As was his style, Elder Jacques's bald head was baby bottom soft. The light scent of cologne meant to make ordinary female's havens wet did nothing for her, but she could appreciate the various spices within it. Cloaked around him was a long dark brown tailored trench coat, which was adorned with a fur collar. She bet it was bear. His pretentious demeanor dictated that he would kill some wild bear then sport it around his neck. The thought made her laugh while his dark brown eyes studied her, causing her to cloak her thoughts from him.

“Ah, Medusa, how I always look forward to our meetings. My son sends you his dark thoughts of course. He enjoyed the Dragon you left for him to play with; unfortunately, another will have to take her place, since she died instantly. What can you say? Children, right?” he lightheartedly addressed her. Reaching for her glass, he downed it with ease with an amused smirk.

Lord jackhole, aka Jacques Fur'I, sat before her in all his arrogance toying with her nerves. Actually, he was loving making her squirm because he knew she could not do anything about it. Thoughts of slashing his throat and dealing with it after kept her focused. “It pleases me that the young Lord enjoyed his toy. It was the same way you introduced my mistress with her first toy from you was it not?”

Nydia inwardly flinched. Why in all that was dark would she say that? She was Reina's first toy and she did not recall him introducing her to Reina at all. Silence took over. Creaking of the table before them had Nydia noticing places upon it that were rotting under the Elder's elbows. She sat, promptly put in her place while he had her feeling as if she were a lowly insect, one that needed to be stepped upon. Luckily, for her, his dark demeanor disappeared quickly before he addressed her.