Mate to the Demon Kings by Lacey Carter Andersen
1
A few hours before the attack…
The shapeshifter enteredSharen’s office with the ease of someone who belonged there. He smiled and looked at his reflection. He’d taken on the face of a demon who worked for The Rebellion, one who just happened to have been killed on his way to work by a group of angels.
His smile widened as he moved to Sharen’s desk and started rifling through her belongings. He found plenty, but nothing he could use. Nothing discussing The Immortal Ten or shedding light on what Sharen knew about her role in the war.
Frowning at his inability to find anything, he settled into her chair, placing his booted feet on her desk. Caine would not be pleased if he returned with nothing.
So what do I do now?
The office door opened and a pretty, young blonde came in, staring down at a pile of papers in her hands. She seemed entirely unaware of his presence as she headed for the desk.
Such a bad thing to be so unobservant. Dangerous even.
But a second later, she glanced up, then down, and then back up again, her eyes widening. “Henry, what are you doing in Sharen’s office?”
Henry, is that this demon spawn’s name?
He shrugged. “Relaxing.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No one ever goes in here.”
Fuck.He took his boots down from her desk. Before he’d watched the angels slaughter his target, he hadn’t bothered to study the demon. He’d just taken his place. Now, he had no idea how to mimic the man, and the last thing he wanted was to tip off their enemies before the attack.
I was supposed to use this body to get information and then help catch them by surprise. I had better be successful in at least one of my missions.
“I know I shouldn’t have come in here,” he said, trying to soften his voice in a way he hoped was similar to the demon. “I just needed a few minutes to myself.”
The young woman took a step back. “That’s all you have to say? What’s wrong with you?”
He rose from his chair. This was not going according to plan. Not at all. He couldn't give his father one more reason to kill him. “Nothing. I apologize for going where I shouldn’t have.”
She took another step back. “O—okay.”
Oh, why couldn’t you have been one of those simple humans who ignore their instincts when faced with evil?
He moved around the desk, trying not to alarm her any further. “What’s your name?”
Her eyes widened. “My name? You’re not Henry.”
And you just signed your life away. Funny.
“What makes you think that?”
She trembled. “Because Henry and I are dating. Henry and I were supposed to meet for breakfast this morning, but he never showed up. So, who are you? What are you?”
He leaped towards her. She dropped her papers and turned to run. Her fingertips brushed the door handle when he reached around and covered her mouth.
She screamed, but his hand muffled the sound. His grip tightened around her body, holding her easily. She was no match for him and he barely felt her struggles. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered. “I’ve got a lot of pent-up up anger. And guess what? I’m going to take it out on you. I’m going to make you wish for death, but I won’t give it to you. Not quickly any way. And when you’re past the point of being anything but a shell of beaten flesh, I’m going to take your life.”
He killed the woman slowly. First punching her face enough times to be sure she couldn’t scream. And then, when his energy was finally spent, he stuffed her body into the closet. Smiling down at her, he thought of the way she’d looked when she was still alive. His body shuddered. His bones cracked and skin shifted, and then, he looked like the woman.
For a moment he felt relief, and then he thought about his failed mission and about Caine. Every ounce of relaxation beating the woman had brought him disappeared in an instant.
“Father will not be pleased when he discovers I learned nothing about their knowledge of the Immortal Ten,” he told her dead body, glad to finally have someone to talk to. “The great Caine will likely come up with a new and terrible way to punish me. His failure of a son.”
He started to pace, growing more and more agitated. “He doesn’t care that I’ve got everything planned… three perfect locations to put our precious bait, both the Hunter and angels in place. And that I thought of the only way to take the demons without killing them. No, all my father will think about is that I returned from her office empty handed.”
He scowled. “I preferred being Greg Manthen to this retched role. He was a man of power and position. He was man who slept when he wanted, ate what he wanted, and killed what he wanted. Now, I’m what… shifting from one fucking demon to another. Slinking around in the shadows of The Rebellion. And all for what? My father hints at what his goal is, but doesn’t care enough to just say it.”
And it must be something important! Otherwise, he wouldn’t be going through all this trouble. He’d just grab her with the others.
His nose wrinkled. “You have no idea how stressful it is to have The Judge of all of mankind as your father. It makes every day an awful one.” He glanced at her again. “Not as bad as the day you’ve had, of course.” Chuckling at his own cleverness, he felt a little better.
Time for the bloodshed!
Closing the closet door, he whistled under his breath as he made his way back to the main room of The Rebellion’s hideout. Soon the attack would come, and every one of these bastard people would become pawns in his father’s game. Caine, The Judge, the immortal being responsible for where people went when they died, would remain in power forever. This he was certain of.
Darla looked downat her dead, broken body lying in the closet. Even in death she remembered how painful her last few moments of life had been. And now, her spirit was angry. If the creature who had killed her knew she was witch, he would’ve been more careful about how he disposed of her body, and about what he said when he thought no one could hear… but he hadn’t. And now, she had a chance to do one final act before her spirit left her body.
Reaching with her ghost-like fingers, she touched her dead body. Her soulless eyes opened, and she pushed a message into it. When she finished, she felt cold, substanceless tears tracking down her cheeks.
As long as her body was found in time, the people she loved would be safe.
She closed her eyes and prepared for the afterlife, but minutes ticked by and nothing happened. More tears flowed down her cheeks.
Even in death, she couldn’t find peace. There was still something left for her to do in this world. But what?
