The Devil's Angel (Devil Series Book 2)

www.RachelMcClellan.com

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

This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the permission of the Publisher. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.

Cover design by Rebecca Hamilton

Printed in the United States of America

Copyright © 2014 by Rachel McClellan

All rights reserved

Fractured Light (book one)

Fractured Soul (book two)

Fractured Truth (book three)

Confessions of a Cereal Mother

Unleashed

The Devil’s Fool (Devil Series #1)

The Devil’s Soldier (Devil Series #3)

Simon Says (a horror short story)

“And so it is, that both the Devil and the angelic Spirit present us with objects of desire to awaken our power of choice.” - Rumi

Lucien’s bones spoke of the storm hours before it came. It was always that way with him, his body telling him things before they happened. Sometimes he listened, sometimes he didn’t. Tonight, he was all ears.

But it wasn’t just the storm; something else was coming, and it frightened him. And Lucien didn’t frighten easily, not even when those two men had attacked him with that Saranton knife and left him for dead. It was how he was rescued that disturbed him the most. It was also how he had sensed the presence of something following him around for the last several months. He thought maybe it was some kind of a poltergeist, but Lucien hadn’t felt threatened by it. A poltergeist he could understand, maybe even appreciate, but this new
something
upset him.

He stood in the center of a long alleyway between two warehouses casting his gaze upward so he could watch the storm clouds creep across the night sky until they had entirely engulfed the stars and the moon. That’s the way it was with darkness. It always destroyed light.

A sharp pain scratched at Lucien’s stomach like a rat gnawing on a piece of leather. The pain, like always, gave him comfort, though he never understood why. All he knew was that pain had become his constant and only companion for centuries.

Lucien knew nothing else in life but pain and suffering. The concept of hope was foreign to him and belonged in a world that was not his. He wondered if somewhere within his suppressed memories he would find the answer to his self-inflicted torture. But the pain always intensified whenever he tried to recall his forbidden past.

A lightning bolt tore across the night sky. There was no sound, though it was quick and electrifying. His hair stood on end. The salty smell in the air filled Lucien with anticipation as he waited for the monstrous storm overhead to release its fury.

A sudden clicking of heels against asphalt startled him, and he dropped his gaze away from the contentious storm. In the same instant, his nose picked up on a new scent. It was the aroma of the oncoming storm, but laced with the fragrance of budding lilacs.

A tall, thin woman walked confidently past the old train station next to the marina, a large bag swinging carelessly at her side. She casually looked around as if she had nowhere to be and wasn’t in any hurry to get there. The time was 1:00 a.m. A cold breeze pushed its way through the streets, twisting the hair around the woman’s face.

It was his passion to watch approaching storms, the way darkness crept silently over the sky, building in pressure, and finally climaxing into an explosion of bright luminosity and thunderous roars. But tonight, the sight of the extraordinary woman strolling aimlessly through the filth of the city captivated him. He silently moved away from the back of the alley, still safely within the dark shadows, in order to keep watching her.

She was exquisitely beautiful. Lucien thought she was more beautiful than any other woman he had ever encountered. Her long golden hair hung in loose curls to the middle of her uncovered back. Despite the distance between them, Lucien could see her eyes were a rare sea-green color. The color reminded him of a deep tide pool he found once in Ireland that had been filled with open oyster shells. When the light from the sun touched the shells polished surface, they gave the water the most glorious shade of green he’d ever seen—until now. He thought it strange that she would make him think of Ireland, his birthplace.

The woman stopped suddenly, directly in front of the alleyway entrance, which was only three feet across, wall to wall. Her jade eyes peered inside, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Lucien pressed himself against the building as if she could see him.
That’s ridiculous.
No human eyes could see him; it was much too dark, especially with the clouds overhead.

He took a deep breath and relaxed more fully into the night. He must have imagined the smile, for she had already turned away and was headed back the way she came.

Lucien didn’t want to hurt her, but he felt it necessary to scare her senseless. She should not be here in this dirty place, ever. He stepped out of the shadows to confront her but quickly retreated when he sensed someone approaching who didn’t share the same feeling about her as he did.

A man dressed in dirty brown and orange clothing approached the woman. His long hair was a mess of dirt and grime, and his feet shuffled one over the other awkwardly. Clearly, he was inebriated. The woman did not seem to recognize the impending danger as she strolled toward the drunken man.

“Give me some money,” the transient slurred, spittle spraying from his mouth.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have a dime for you,” she said.

“What’s in your purse?” His tone turned hard.

“Oh, I have plenty of money,” she said sweetly, “but none of it is for you. I apologize for not being more clear.”

Lucien couldn’t help but smirk, but at the same time wondered why the woman wasn’t being more careful.

The man stepped forward, his fists balled tight. “Give me your purse, or I’ll rip that pretty little dress off.”

The woman stood her ground, showing no fear. “You are ridiculous. Get out of my way.”

The drunken man lunged for the woman, grabbing her roughly around the waist.

Lucien didn’t like the way the transient touched her. This thought startled him, but he pushed the emotion back. He stepped out from the alley and cleared his throat. The man looked in his direction, eyes growing big when he noticed Lucien’s height and large stature. The man’s hands dropped to his side, and he stumbled off as fast as his unstable legs permitted.

Lucien’s gaze flashed at the woman. In that brief instant, he heard, as clear as the thunder above, her heart stop. Her face showed no emotion, but her heart betrayed her. She appeared to recognize his confusion and quickly recovered. She looked down at her roughed up dress and sighed. Her long slender fingers smoothed out the angry creases.

“Are you all right?” Lucien asked with a smooth voice. He was aware of the effect he had on women. His appearance and demeanor could hypnotize.

The woman didn’t bat an eye. “I’m fine, sir. Thank you for assisting me.”

She turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called after her, confused. He strolled over to her. “That must have been upsetting. Are you sure you’re all right?”

He flashed his perfect smile and waited for her to swoon. Then he would show her what scary really was. That would make her think twice before wandering through the wrong side of town at such a late hour.

“Of course I’m fine. I thought I was lost, but now I know where I am. Again, thank you.” She walked right by him.

Lucien noted she hadn’t even looked at him.
Impossible!
This wasn’t going the way he expected. He moved at lightning speed in front of her. She gasped in surprise. Now that was more like it.

She gained her composure but still did not show any fear. “Very impressive. I’ll have to remember that one.”

She walked by him.
Again.

Lucien growled low. He wasn’t having the impact on her that he would’ve liked. He darted in front of her and said, “I’m going to kill you.”

That should scare her.

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious. I’m going to rip your head off and drink every last drop of blood.”

“Because you’re a vampire,” she stated, arching one eyebrow.

Lucien couldn’t tell if she was mocking him or if she really believed that he was, in fact, a vampire. “What if I am?”

“We all have our issues,” she said.

She moved to pass him again, but he blocked her and cocked his head, eyes narrowed. “You’re not predictable.”

“That’s great. Now can I get by?” she asked, clearly annoyed.

Lucien tightened his lips. “You’re not acting the way you should.”

“How am I supposed to act?”

“You’re supposed to be afraid and run away.”

The woman set down her bag. “And what exactly should I be afraid of? You’re a messed-up vampire hiding out in the worst part of town, and you’re trying to scare me away because...why? My presence has ruined some imaginary world you’ve created? Any other vampire would’ve had his fangs in me by now.”

Lucien’s stare turned cold and deadly. His teeth clenched tight, and his jaw muscles bulged. Only his older brother had spoken to him in such a condescending manner, and that was over three hundred years ago.

Before she could blink, Lucien rushed the woman, slamming into her hard. He clenched her shoulders tightly, lifted her up, and raced across the dirty pavement running faster than he had in years. The force of the air behind her caused her hair to blow wildly around her face. Had he not been so angry, he might’ve appreciated how angelic she looked in that moment.

Lucien flew fast, his aim on the wall of the train station. They hit it hard, and the woman’s head jerked back against the bricks with a sickening thud, but she barely flinched.

Inches from her face, he spat, “You dare mock me?”

She didn’t answer. Simply returned his look with equal venom.

“Your life is nothing to me!” He lifted his head back and, with fangs barred, prepared to bite.

The woman’s expression remained calm, despite Lucien’s bared, sharp fangs. Instead of cowering, she tilted her head to the side, revealing her long slender neck. He reared back as if she was the one with fangs.

“You want to die?” he asked.

“What do you want?” she countered, her voice quiet, almost sad.

Her question startled him more than anything else that night. He leaned away from her, not sure what he wanted any more. Her emerald eyes stared into his, as if searching for something. He didn’t like it, so he tossed her to the side.

Lucien darted away before she could get up. By the time she had recovered and was looking around, he was three buildings away standing on a rooftop. The storm had finally released its fury, dropping sheets of rain at a maddening pace.

He flexed his jaw and tried to understand what had just happened. Why wasn’t the woman afraid of him, especially knowing what he was? She acted like it was common to encounter vampires, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Vampires were a myth; nobody believed in them.

The woman turned just then and walked back toward the marina, seemingly oblivious to the pouring rain that was ruining her hair and gown. Her eyebrows were pulled tightly together as if she were...angry? Frustrated? He couldn’t be sure which, but she didn’t look happy. Or scared.

Lucien knew the woman would eventually walk up the main road two blocks away and then go to wherever she lived. No sane person would stay out in this rain for very long. He inhaled quickly at a new and startling thought. Now he knew what he wanted.

He jumped to a nearby rooftop and followed her. This action was completely unlike him, but he had to know more about her, almost as if to prove their strange encounter had actually happened. Maybe he had dramatized her actions and words, misconstrued them somehow. Maybe she really was like everyone else and not some enigma. Once he proved this to himself, he would never see her again.

Life could return to normal.

As he jumped from rooftop to rooftop to follow her, he thought there was something familiar about her movements. They were graceful and full of purpose. She didn’t have the usual nervous ticks such as the licking of lips or wiping at the face or invisible dust motes. He swore he’d seen these mannerisms before, but she didn’t look the least bit familiar.

The woman continued to walk, moving skillfully through the wet and lonely streets of Seattle. The way she navigated herself with ease made him think she had lived here for years. But then how had he missed her?

She finally stopped at a black door belonging to a four-story building. She glanced around before slipping inside. Lucien jumped down, landing as if it were only a three-foot drop rather than a forty-foot descent. There were no signs giving away the nature of the business, no hours of operation, only one small word engraved upon the door in gold: “Deific.”