Assassin: Fall of the Golden Valefar (A Paranormal Romance—Book #6 in the Demon Kissed Series)

ASSASSIN

Fall of the Golden Valefar

Demon Kissed #6

by

H.M. Ward

Laree Bailey Press

www.DemonKissed.com

This book is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2012 by H.M.
Ward

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may
be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

Laree Bailey Press, 4431
Loop 322, Abilene, TX 79602

First Edition: May 2012

KINDLE EDITION

FORWARD

A lot of thought and deliberation went into the book that
you’re holding in your hands. I originally intended to make this another entry
point into the Demon Kissed Saga, so that even if a reader hadn’t yet read
books one through five, they’d still be able to enjoy Assassin. That’s a
trickier proposition than you’d think. First, I wanted to make sure that my
loyal fans that have been along for the ride since the beginning wouldn’t be
bored as I welcomed new readers. Second, a lot has been established in books
one through five. While the world of Ivy, Eric, and Collin may have started out
similar to the one we all know, much has changed—and that’s a lot to
incorporate into a new book while still moving the story forward.

So, those who have read my last book, The 13th Prophecy,
will undoubtedly enjoy seeing how the world has changed in the years that have
passed since the gates of Hell were broken open and Ivy ascended to her throne.
My new readers, I’d invite to enjoy the story from its beginning. While you’ll
find your footing soon enough as you begin to read, you’ll find it a much richer
experience once you have the backstory.

In Assassin: Fall of the Golden Valefar, we shift to seeing
things from Eric’s perspective—and Eric is still completely insane. It makes
for a while ride. He exists as the only Golden Valefar, and bears the curse of
having used Satan’s Stone. Angels and Demons have withdrawn from our world, and
the Martis and (red) Valefar must navigate their new way in a post-apocalyptic
world. Ivy reigns from the Underworld, and has recalled the creatures of Hell,
but the earth will never be the same again.

Enjoy your book! And be sure to share your thoughts with me
on Facebook.

-H.M. Ward

CHAPTER ONE

There is neither pure
goodness nor pure evil in your heart—you are what you choose to be.

The words rang like crystal in his mind. Eric hadn’t seen
Ivy for years, but her voice—her words—still haunted him. When he closed his
eyes he could see her face, her endless brown gaze. Shaking the pictures from
his mind, he pushed them back. The past was the past. This was his future. Eric
tightened his grip on the piece of brimstone in his hands, ignoring the look of
terror on the face of the woman he had pinned to the floor.

Julia.

All of her model-
esk
qualities
were faded like sun-soaked parchment. Her light brown hair spilled around her
face forming a halo on the ground, but she was no saint. The Martis were
supposed to be the epitome of goodness—they were the angel’s hands in this
world—but this woman abused that power. She sentenced Eric to death because he
did what was right, and he wasn’t the only one treated unjustly. There were
others she had destroyed, others who had opposed her.

The Martis should have been slaughtered during the war, but
Ivy didn’t deliver justice. She offered mercy. The thought baffled him. The
Queen of the Underworld showed forgiveness. It was odd, but that’s was the way
Ivy was. She never did what he thought she ought to. Ivy seemed to follow her
own path, no matter the cost. That was what Eric was doing now. Carving a new
path, a path that would be set in stone once his blade was buried deep within
Julia’s heart.

Julia hadn’t spoken. Eric took her by surprise, killing her
guards before they had time to react. He was a skilled warrior—a Seraphim by
birth. The black blade tightened in his grip, but Julia’s eyes remained on his
face. She laughed softly, her Italian accent thick with disgust, “I should have
destroyed you long ago. I saw what you were—even then.”

Eric’s eyes sparkled, glinting like amber gems in the early
morning sun. They were in the courtyard of the Martis compound in Rome. The
villa was the only building still standing, though
its
magic hid it from the surviving humans. “What was I, Julia? What was I when you
sentenced me to death,” he leaned in lower, spitting in her perfect face, “for
protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves?” The tension in his shoulders
was building. It was all he could do to keep the dagger from spilling her
blood.

She sneered, trying to inch away from his blade as it
pressed harder against her skin. “You are, and always have been, an
abomination. An angel stripped of power, a mortal who’s not quite human, a
Martis that was tainted by that girl,” she spat the words at him, “and now what
are you? A Valefar with a golden mark on your brow, a being more evil than the
last, sent by the Queen of the Underworld after her false show of keeping her
word.” Julia was shrewd. As if things suddenly became clear, she shook her head
slightly, her tone hardening, “But this isn’t about her, is it? It’s about
you.” Eric swallowed hard, the tension in his arms burning, as he tried to hide
the thoughts flashing through his mind.

Julia’s lips pulled into an arrogant smile, the smile that
said she knew she was right, “It’s about your blood, blood that lacked clarity
from the beginning—clouding your judgment and making you an outcast among your
own kind. You never fit anywhere, with anyone, and you never will. You know
what you truly are, a creature that shouldn’t exist, but I showed mercy—even
when you couldn’t see the truth. I let you live.” Her sharp voice dropped off,
as if she was going to say more but thought better of it.

Eric’s knees pinned her arms. He perched on top of her
ready to strike, but there was a battle playing out inside his mind.

It was as if he could hear
her
voice. Eric thought he was losing his mind. Ivy couldn’t come
to the
surface,
she couldn’t physically speak to him
here. There was no way her voice could be echoing in his mind, but it was
there, crystal clear. At the same time, he could feel something tightening
around his arm, as if it could restrain him. The sensation wasn’t the full
force of a shadow clutching his arm. It was more like a whisper of a sensation
coupled with the pleading that rang in his ears.

Don’t. Please, don’t.

Eric remained rigid, keeping Julia trapped beneath him. She
didn’t struggle. Her placid face hid the terror that swam in her eyes, but Eric
could sense it, he could feel her fear. It wasn’t her words that unhinged him;
it was that whisper, the silent plea only he could hear. It was there every
time, growing softer, as if he were moving further and further away.

Eric knew he no longer fit anywhere. It was something he
was acutely aware of, and although Julia said it to get under his skin, she
only restated what he already knew. He wasn’t an angel. He wasn’t a mortal. He wasn’t
a Valefar, though he bore their mark and could wield their power. Eric didn’t
know what he was. The only thing he did know—the only thing he was certain
of—was that he had to quench the insatiable burning in his heart. He had to
ease the pain, and this was the only way to do it.

Eric muttered Ivy’s words softly, “You are what you choose
to be.” His eyes were vacant, unblinking golden orbs. There was a moment when
Julia’s lips curved up at the corners, thinking she’d gotten through to him. The
panic slid off her face as a cool rush of relief washed over her, but it was
short-lived. No one could possibly know what was going through Eric’s mind, no
one understood. Though he heard the whispers, the silent pleas to stop, he
couldn’t.

Eric’s brimstone knife came down hard. Julia sucked in a
breath and tried to twist out of Eric’s grip, but she failed. Once Eric pinned
his prisoner there was no escaping. The blade swooshed through the air, the tip
shining like a cracked black tooth. The blade sank into her skin, nicking a
rib, but Eric forced it past the bone. Julia’s body moved of its own accord,
attempting to evade Eric before it was too late. She bucked up hard, slamming
her head into Eric’s. Blood flowed from above her brow. Eric released the hold
on her arm, and grabbed Julia’s neck. Eyes blazing like twin fires, he squeezed
tightly, while holding the dagger, twisting it past the bone in her chest.
 

“Those who can no longer see the
truth,
don’t deserve to live,” Eric growled, throwing her statement back in her face.

Julia’s lips opened, but blood bubbled up, obscuring her
words. Eric leaned in, bringing his victim closer to his lips. With a flick of
his tongue, he tasted her blood, grinning at her while he did it. Julia’s eyes
were wide, her hands trying to push him away. For a moment, the only thing he
could feel was Julia’s surge of pain and fear. It stilled him. As he basked in
the sensations, the constant pain that consumed him dissipated, and he felt
free. The ache around his bones eased, as did the sensation of a gaping hole in
the center of his chest. For a moment, he felt whole, complete. There was no
writhing, no biting back words from a tongue sharpened by pain. His eyes
closed, soaking in the sensation as if it were sunshine. Eric’s hands were
covered in blood, oozing scarlet from Julia’s wounds. Her flailing and
screaming didn’t ruin his
thoughts,
if anything her
terror made him more at ease. But the feeling was fleeting. It always was. That
was the problem. There was no peace for Eric, no rest. This was as close as he
came. The thought made him twist inside, but he had no regrets about this
killing. Justice needed to be served, and this woman deserved it.

As if she realized this was her last chance, Julia’s
panicked desperation won out. She lifted her hand and smashed the heel into
Eric’s face, hard. She felt the crack of bone beneath her palm, breaking his
nose and causing blood to rush out. Eric’s arms tensed in response and he drove
the blade into her heart. A scream rippled the air as Julia as she died. Blood
flowed between her lips, spilling onto the pale patio bricks in red splatters.

With a thud, Eric dropped her and stepped away. Folding his
arms over his chest, he watched her perish at his feet, eyes wide with fear. The
site of the brimstone wound turned black, spreading rapidly through her body. It
spread in lethal tendrils, killing her from the inside out. Eric knew it was
pain like no other. He’d been a Martis—a human infused with angel blood—after
the curse. Eric’s life as a Martis had ended abruptly, painfully. It was etched
into his mind. He could still feel the brimstone devouring him, slowly eating
away at his flesh, burning away his muscle like acid. He could still feel Ivy’s
hands on his shoulders, pulling him onto her lap. He still felt her soft touch
and saw the tears streaming from her eyes. She mourned him.

But, Eric felt no sympathy for Julia as the poison
destroyed her. He gazed at her wide pleading eyes with a sadistic smile, ignoring
her garbled pleas for help. As her flesh blackened with inky vines just beneath
the surface of her skin, he knew how much agony she was enduring.

It gave him a second moment of reprieve, and he felt whole
again. There was no pain. Eric closed his eyes, and breathed in the cool
morning air. Sunlight spilled over the stone wall surrounding the garden, and
the way he felt in that second—the peace that filled his body—he knew he’d
never have it again. This temporary stasis, this moment of rest was the exception
to an otherwise deplorable existence. What he wouldn’t give to stay like this
forever, to never again feel the soul-crushing pain that daily infused his body
with agony. It was a life he could no longer remember. It was a hope that died
when Ivy chose Collin. Ivy was his only reprieve, giving him—no feeding
him—bits of pain to ease his suffering. Now, the only thing he could do was
survive. Breathing deeply, Eric closed his eyes and was still for several
moments. The weakened moans that came from
Julia’s
dying body softened, until there was silence.

The peace shattered as Julia’s body went still. The blood
flowing from her wounds ceased. She did not breathe. The life was sucked out of
her, destroyed by the brimstone. Eric didn’t turn her into a Valefar. As much
fun as that would be, he didn’t want Ivy to know what he did. Not yet.

Eric lifted a small vial out of his pocket, and uncorked
the top. Holding it over Julia’s charred body, he let one drop of crystal clear
liquid fall. The drop floated down, as if it were a feather, and landed on her
chest. The droplet hissed before combusting into flames. The air filled with
the scent of jasmine, sulfur, and burnt flesh until a gust of wind whisked it
away.

The only
trace of Julia’s death were
golden scorch marks on the ground. They formed a perfect silhouette of her body,
encompassing every detail, even the strands of her hair. He stared, feeling
neither relieved nor elated. Eric didn’t expect to revel in this moment, and he
knew better than lingering about. There was nothing to gloat about. Julia was
right about some things. He was an abomination—a being with no race, a cruel
creature that only felt good when others were in agony. He pressed his lips
together and walked away.