Chapter One
Ravyn
The Mission
The sun had just begun to make its presence known to the east in a spectacle of brilliant blues, purples, and fiery pinks. The city was quiet, with the exception of the morning song of waking birds and the steady march of boots around me. If I had to guess, I would say the damp morning air of spring carried a chill with it. I kept my head focused on the stone path ahead while my eyes glanced at the four guards to my right. Judging by the sight of their breath gracing the air, I was right.
A smug grin lined my lips as I tried to contain my laughter at the stern, serious expressions on their faces. How could anyone take these silly-looking men seriously? Though I deeply admired the tradition of the Swiss Guard, I couldn’t help but wonder if the colorfully striped uniforms were meant to throw off any opponent. I mean, they looked like a bunch of flaming gays dressed for war.
We walked briskly along the ancient stone Passetto toward the Swiss Guard barracks. It was a rare occasion for me to be in Vatican City, but when I was asked to come, I had no choice. This was the usual drill, secretive and always escorted. I didn’t mind much, considering it was more for show, since the Guard really didn’t stand a chance against me.
The city itself was a natural wonder, an architect’s wet dream. Every building wore the same white, sienna, or tangerine color. All had clay roofs of those colors, faded with age.
For one like myself it was the power that pulsed through the ancient city like a raging heartbeat that held my fascination. Small as it may be, it held more secrets, wealth, and power than any human would care to know about. In my eyes this was the city’s saving grace.
Staring out at the city below, I noticed one of the guard’s eyes fastened to my thighs. More to the point, the custom chrome pistols with ivory grips with an inlayed raven perched on top of a human skull, holstered high on each leg. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what held his attention.
My black leather trench coat flapped behind my long legs, doing little to cover the pistols or my body as it failed to keep pace. My usual outfit of snug black leather pants, black steel toe boots, and black tank top showed off my toned, slender body as well as my small boobs. Most women would complain, but in my line of work, it was one less thing to worry about getting in the way. I was perfectly happy to have such small, perky breasts.
I gave the young man, who might have been fairly handsome if wearing a different outfit, a flirtatious smile. “Like what you see?” I teased in my raspy voice, unable to stop myself.
His eyes widened as his mouth gaped. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that. When the guard behind him rapped him in the back with the long, wooden handle of his halberd, the young man snapped his attention forward, returning to his stern expression. The seriousness with which these men took their job caused me to laugh openly as we approached the barracks.
The silly-looking guard standing at attention quickly pulled the large arched oak door open. The guards at my sides all stopped in a perfectly timed step just outside the door, allowing me to waltz into the dimly lit room without even a pause in my step. The door slowly creaked until it clicked loudly behind me, as if to say there was no escape.
The heavy smoke of burning frankincense immediately stung my nostrils, while the pungent scent of holy water burned at my lungs. I quickly ignored the annoying odors as my eyes settled on the figure behind the desk.
The rising sun forced its way through the single stained glass window, which favored a portrait of Jesus, shining on the man behind the large desk. His bright red robe emanated a purple hue as the blue color in the glass settled upon him. He was handsome. He had short brown hair and brown eyes, with a strong jawline and high cheekbones that framed his face. If I had to guess, I’d say he was in his mid-thirties, and from the short time I had spent with him, I knew the robe hid his well-defined, toned body.
The man behind the desk motioned to the plain wooden chair in front of me as he continued to skim through a pile of papers. Stepping in front of the chair, I pushed the open flaps of my coat back behind my pistols as I took a seat. A devilish smile pulled at my naturally crimson lips when his eyes parted with his papers to find me. Crossing my legs, I lit my cigarette and watched his eyes rake over my body.
My skin was pale, almost translucent, without a single blemish or scar. My black hair lay just at my shoulders, straight and always a wild sexy mess. I was a deadly dream to any God-fearing man such as Gabriel. Though I much preferred a woman’s company, I loved to get under Gabriel’s skin.
When his eyes finally met mine I gave him a wink while blowing a couple of smoke rings in his direction. Clearing his throat, he averted his eyes back to his papers and began shuffling them around on his desk.
“Ravyn, you look well,” he said, after a few long minutes of silence. Finishing with his papers, he reached into his desk, and slid an ashtray and a large manila envelope toward me.
I grabbed the ashtray and leaned back, leaving the envelope where it was. “Gabriel, why am I here? You could have delivered this to me, like always,” I started with a bit of a childish huff. “You know I hate coming to this godforsaken place. Please, explain why it was so important for me to be here before I lose my temper.”
I had good reason to gripe. Coming to Vatican City was against the terms of my contract, not to mention I hated being here. The hypocrisy of their laws made my skin boil, but it was the same hypocrisy that brought me here. I was not welcome in this city, unless, of course, for unofficial business. Being here in Gabriel’s office meant only that, business of the unofficial kind.
“Ravyn, you know why you’re here. I had business to tend to. Now stop whining,” Gabriel said, irritated by my childish behavior.
Technically, I could be categorized as a child. I was only twenty-three and had the body of a seventeen-year-old, but I was just plain irritated. “Damn it, Gabriel, why don’t you take this case? I was planning on taking a vacation,” I replied, though I really hadn’t planned anything, and Gabriel saw right through me.
“You? A vacation? Ha! You wouldn’t know what to do. You would just mope around looking for some trouble to stir up.” He laughed loudly.
The bastard knew me too well. I loved my work. Although I had only been at it for five years, I was fucking good at it. Did I mention the Vatican paid incredibly well? I was already set for an eternity. “Shut up, asshole. When was the last time you took a vacation? You love your work more than I do!”
Gabriel looked down at the envelope, tapping his finger against it, blushing as if he’d just been caught red-handed. “I’m on vacation,” he confessed. I laughed loudly.
The rat bastard had accused me of never taking a vacation and he’s working during his! “See, Gabriel? We do have some things in common,” I said, as I put out my cigarette and slid the ashtray back across his desk.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes, obviously pissy about my comment. He had never really liked me, but he put up with my never-ending shit because he had to. After all, we had to accomplish the jobs given to us. Truth is, he hated what I was. He also hated how he lusted over my body.
“Ravyn, we have nothing in common. Why do you insist on making things difficult every time I see you?” he said through clenched teeth, barely letting the words escape.
I was standing, leaning over, elbows firmly planted on his desk with my chin resting on my hands, invading his space before he noticed I even moved. His eyes widened but he held his ground, his face only inches away from mine.
“Why are you always such a cocksucker? What I am has nothing to do with what we have in common. Besides, it was you who hired me,” I said in a very playful tone.
“Yes, Ravyn. I am well aware I hired you. It pains me to admit it, but you are the best. Now sit, so we can get on with our business.”
There was the professional Gabriel I knew. I smiled and eased myself back down into the chair. There was always a playful argument when you put us in a room together. Truth be told, I wanted nothing more than to rip his damn head off. I snatched the envelope from his desk, just wanting this visit to be over with already.
The smell of fear and disgust was heavy now, almost overpowering the foul frankincense. That we had made it this far without killing each other was a miracle, though I learned long ago to act the part in order to get what I wanted, and every time I set foot around Gabriel, I put on a show. Always showing him what he wanted: a beautiful, childlike, submissive girl. I hated it. It was the exact opposite of what I really was, but I didn’t want to lose such a cushy job.
Peeling the envelope open, I pulled the file out and froze as my eyes locked onto the small photo of the beautiful, young blonde clipped to the documents. My heart seemed to stop and though I didn’t have the need to breathe, the air caught in my throat. I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of the shock. It worked, and I quickly scanned the first page.
TARGET: Kara Wombley
AGE: 21
ADDRESS: 2637 53rd Ave. Oak Lawn, IL
TYPE: Witch
MISSION: Terminate
My eyes fell from the letter, and if it were possible to become even paler, I would have. I struggled to find words, but none came. Who could possibly want to hurt Kara? She was as harmless as a fly, even less harmless if that was possible.
“Ravyn? Do you know her?” Gabriel interrupted my thoughts.
I nodded as I pushed the paper back into the envelope and tossed it onto his desk. My mind worked frantically to think of a possible explanation, but there simply wasn’t one. Kara was the most innocent person I had ever known. I knew everything about her. We grew up together. Her innocence was the reason I had left six years ago. Had she changed? Maybe gotten in with the wrong crowd? No, that just wasn’t Kara.
“Ravyn!” Gabriel yelled.
“Huh?”
“I can assign someone else to the case.” Gabriel softened his tone, an attempt at a sincere gesture.
“Why? Why is she the target?” I asked.
“You know I don’t get details, only the package. I can tell you that the Prophets ordered this. How do you know her?” He looked at me with great concern.
By the Prophets? I thought as I felt a sudden anger spur through me. It wasn’t unusual, since my temper had a very short, almost nonexistent fuse. “Cut the shit, Gabriel! You know I know her! You know everything about my past,” I shouted, letting my anger boil over. Gabriel played head games when he could, and I was in no mood. He knew more about my past than I cared to remember.
“True. Calm down, and humor me for a minute.” He paused, waiting for me to acknowledge him. I nodded. Gabriel leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying me. “I’m assuming that you''re not going to take the case.”
I threw him a look of death, which said he was correct. He raised his hands as if to say let me finish. I bit my lip in attempt to keep my acidic words from flying out.
“I am also assuming that if I put anyone else on this case, they’ll be going up against one nasty, pissed off little lady,” Gabriel finished cautiously.
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I almost hated him for how well he knew me. “Yes, Gabriel, you will. Until I find out why she is the hot item on the executioner’s list, no one touches her,” I warned.
“And when you find out the ugly truth?” he asked.
“Who said it would be ugly? If it is, I will take the case,” I unhappily agreed. I could see the satisfaction glinting in Gabriel’s eyes. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what that satisfaction could be.
He cleared his throat and stood. “Well, I can’t very well have a rogue agent out there. One month, Ravyn. If you haven’t figured it out by then, you’re both as good as dead. I will find out what I can and meet with you in a week. I’ll be arriving in the States soon anyway,” Gabriel instructed in his very businesslike tone.
“Why would you help me?” I asked, finding his actions beyond bizarre. The Gabriel I knew wouldn’t touch my dirty demon paws.
Gabriel cocked his head to the side, his brows raised, and the disappointment on his face read like a large print book. “Think what you may of me, but it is best to play with the beast than against the beast. Besides, no matter how much I dislike you, I need you. And I must say, curiosity is at play. I have never seen you show any kindness, nor have you ever turned down a case.” Gabriel spoke as if he were reading poetry.
I wasn’t ready for that response, but it sure did sound like him. I stood, satisfied with his response and gave him a nod. “You know what they say about curiosity.” I smiled.
“Yes, yes. Something about killing cats, I believe. If the saying is true, then I believe we are both under the knife,” he said eloquently. I turned, not wanting to respond to that. “Take the envelope. I don’t need any suspicion.” He smiled and bowed his head as I grabbed it and left the room in a hurry.
I was glad to be leaving Vatican City. I found it ironic that I had killed so many for this so-called religion. I often found myself chuckling after killing for the Church, a church that hired demons to do its dirty deeds as if it would keep the souls of its members clean. In my eyes, they were no more innocent than I, especially Gabriel. He loved killing as much as I did, though his reasons allowed him peace of mind. Mine, on the other hand, allowed me a good fight and a good paycheck. I knew there was no heaven or hell. The Church even knew this, but they used it as a power play.
***
I plopped onto the plush, mocha-colored leather sofa on my private jet. Lying down, I stretched out, letting my body sink into the luxurious material. Closing my eyes, I focused my thoughts on solving this case before the Vatican could interfere. No matter how I looked at it, Gabriel’s generosity did not sit well with me. I didn’t trust him. With the exception of a handful of people I could call my friends, I didn’t trust anyone.
For the first time, I was questioning the Church. Questioning how they found their victims. I had always known they had dirty dealings just like everyone else, but now I wondered why. I wondered how many of my victims had been as innocent as Kara. Something inside warned me that she would be the catalyst of my undoing with the Church. I also knew it would not end peacefully. They never allowed demons to live when their work for the Church was finished.
I shoved my thoughts aside as the gorgeous young flight attendant prepared my drink. Her wavy, light brown hair fell just below her shoulders, her dark brown eyes wanting what I often took from her over the years. I quickly chugged the warm whiskey.
“Are you okay Ravyn?” the beautiful stewardess asked.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I replied, knowing I would soon take from her again. For the first time, I wondered what her name was. In the five years I had taken greedily from her, I cared too little to actually find out.
She leaned over, refilling my glass. Swallowing the contents, I set the empty glass on the heavily lacquered end table and sat up a little too quickly for the woman. “Leave the bottle,” I instructed as I tuned in to the steady beat of her heart.
She smiled and set it on the table next to the empty glass. Her movement was fluid, without fear or hesitation. My hand caught hers, ever so gently pulling her closer, until her shins bumped against the edge of the couch. Releasing her hand, I let mine settle on her hips.
The desire began to swirl in her eyes as my hands slid down her thighs. Reaching for the hem of her mid-thigh black skirt, I allowed my fingers to find her soft, bare skin. Hooking my thumbs on the hem, my hands slowly crept back up, pushing her skirt up.
Her breathing picked up, excited by my powerful touch. I leaned back and she followed, unwilling to break from my touch. I watched the craving grow in her eyes as she straddled my lap, pushing her perfect body against mine. She was my puppet as long as my touch remained. A necessary power for demons. I had learned to control my power over the years, but this only caused me to become sadistic in nature.
My mouth watered and gums tingled, while my throat grew tight with an overwhelming hunger. The familiar cracking resonated from within my body as my bones adjusted to fit the deadly creature within me. I could feel my sharp fangs grow needy as they pulsed with what felt like an electric current.
Sweeping her hair from her neck, her vein pulsing with anticipation, I could wait no more. My fangs penetrated her skin like it was nothing more than butter. My jaw locked around her delicate skin. Fangs still buried deep, I pulled back, gently stretching her skin and allowing the blood to easily course into my welcoming mouth.
I drank quickly as my hand pressed lightly at the back of her neck, keeping her against my mouth. Her body began to tremble and shudder against me, and her moans echoed through the cabin, the orgasm erupting through her body. Taking only what I needed I pulled away, licking her wound and the evidence of my true nature away. I moved the woman to the empty space beside me, her eyes revealing her blissful state as she reached for me.
“You’ve had too much to drink, my dear. Sleep now and wake with no memory of this.”
Her eyes closed as soon as the words left my mouth. The creature quickly shrank back within me, feeling the relaxing calm that her blood offered. The whirling thoughts cleared out, as they always did after I fed.
Now before you go jumping to conclusions, I am NOT a vampire! Vampires don’t even exist; however, demons do. We demons come in many different shapes and sizes, and different colors as well. All demons have an affinity for blood; it makes our powers stronger and quenches the only hunger from which we suffer. Some need to drink more than others, while a few can survive without it. I prefer to feed every few weeks, though if I am badly injured, feeding speeds up the healing process. I also have a tendency to feed during sex.
I rarely feed on the same person, but every human has a distinct flavor, and the flight attendant was like my favorite home-cooked meal. That being said, I fed from her a little too often, and doing so created a need within her. It was as if her body knew exactly what I was and what I would take from her.
I also prefer to drink from women. They taste better and I enjoy using my power of suggestion, which gives a certain sexual pleasure to the donor. I don’t care to give that pleasure to men. I can also make a feeding particularly painful.
Demons have a human form and a demon form. If we didn’t, things would get pretty messy on earth, with all of us roaming around in scary demon form. I, however, would have very little trouble fitting in. As far as I could tell, my demon form was broken, meaning I change very little in appearance, which is probably attributed to me being a half-breed.
My terrifying demon form consists of my fingers growing slightly longer, accented by two-inch, dagger-like, unbreakable fingernails; my fangs; my eyes turn completely black; and of course the extra armor-like bone that encases my heart and hurts like a bitch. Other than that, my almost translucent skin is the only thing that makes humans stare at me. Well, unless they’re checking me out.
A majority of demons are among the most beautiful people in human form. And nearly all demons carry some sort of animal trait within, so when they release the demon their form changes. Some get as little as larger ears or a tail, while others become very animalistic. I’ve witnessed full-blooded demons who appear to be humanoid tigers and even wolves. This is probably where the werewolf myth stems from. But just like the vampire myth, they were cases of frightened humans making up stories.
Some demons live peaceful little lives, trying to be as human as possible. Some are very into business and success, and some revel in chaos and destruction. As for myself, I settle on causing chaos and destruction for those who initially caused the chaos and destruction. I kill as ruthlessly as they do and for that, I am no better than the scumbags I kill. But I’m damn good at it. Besides, better to kill the bad instead of the innocent, right? This was my constant claim of reasoning, but it wasn’t the whole truth. I loved the fight, and the bad guys offered a better one.
I know what I am. I’m dangerous, and my abilities far exceed most demons’. Which is exactly why I left my childhood friend. I never knew what I was or what I was capable of, but one day six years ago everything changed.
My mother was human, and the father I had never met was apparently a full-blooded demon, which makes me a half-breed. Half-human, half-demon. Full-bloods are born with all of their powers and abilities. Half-breeds are not. Our demon must be awakened, usually by a devastating life event. Mine was my mother’s murder. My demon roared to life and I changed. My father’s parting gift to me, I guess.
I was scared, so I ran. Disappeared and swore never to return. I hated leaving Kara, but she was safer, or so I thought, with me gone. Now she had a price tag on her head for some unknown reason. I could only hope this was some false accusation by the Prophets. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember me. Thankfully, the rhythmic hum of the jet began to lull me to sleep.
***
Fourteen-year-old Kara sat on worn shag carpeting in the small room, her legs crossed, Indian-style. The room was almost pitch black, only the soft glow of orange light seeping through the thin curtains from the streetlight outside. The dim light reflected off the shiny wax of the unlit candles arranged in front of her. I lay on my side, just a few inches behind her on the floor, watching as her thoughts entered my mind without a peep. Are you watching? A gentle hand on the small of her back was my only response.
One by one, the candles burst to life. When they were all lit, she giggled with excitement. She held her open hand over the flames, and then quickly closed it, and with that the flames were extinguished.
I clapped softly in approval as I witnessed her power. “You’re getting stronger. Pretty soon you will be able to beat me,” I said playfully.
She leaned back and rested her head on my stomach. Her long honey-blonde hair pooled over my exposed skin, like I was being draped in satin. Her eyes were the prettiest I’d ever seen, like big dark turquoise gems. They seemed to melt away my rough edges. She had long lashes and high cheekbones, a small pert nose, and plump, perfectly curved lips. Kara didn’t have a single flaw, and as if her face wasn’t perfect enough, she had the body of a supermodel goddess, only in a shorter package.
“Yeah? You think so?” she giggled.
My hand played with her hair, as it always seemed to be drawn to it. “No,” I replied, with a straight face.
She stared up at me, a sexy smile dancing across her lips. Suddenly, a book flew off the shelf towards me. I caught it with ease, only inches from my head, and read the title, “To Kill a Mockingbird.” I held it out to her.
“You going to read it?” I grinned.
She snatched it from me. “How do you move so fast?” she wondered aloud in defeat.
“I don’t know. How do you do the things you do?” I asked. Kara moved, sliding her body next to mine.
Her eyes searched mine for truth as she lay next to me. “Do I scare you?” she asked back.
“Terribly. I’m pretty sure you could bury me in books and set me on fire without lifting a finger.” I laughed loudly as she giggled with me and hit my stomach, not amused by my joke. I rolled onto my side to face her. She watched me, but remained still.
“Do I scare you?” I gazed into her eyes, searching for a reaction.
She didn’t so much as blink as she held my stare. “No,” she whispered with a smile.
***
My eyes popped open just as the wheels of the jet skidded onto the tarmac. A soft growl revealed my irritation. “Damn dreams!” Worse though, my dream was a playback of long lost memories. Memories I never wanted to dig up.
I looked through the small rectangular window, furrowed my brow and let the scowl wash over my face. I could already smell the foul air of Chicago, and the door was still sealed tight as the jet taxied to the private sector of Midway airport. It had been two years since I had been home and it was still a shit hole, but it was my shit hole. I had earned a fearsome reputation among my kind in the Chicago area and was proud to have it.
The jet rolled to a stop as I looked at the still-sleeping woman. Deciding not to wake her, I opened the door and smiled when I was greeted by my car just outside the door. My crimson Ferrari 458 Italia glistened in the late afternoon sun, welcoming me home. Sexy is the perfect word to describe it. Along with money came a taste for finer things, and yes, I enjoyed those finer things very much.
I lit a cigarette and pulled my cell phone from my pocket as I headed for the car. I figured now was a good time to call Nebiros, my good friend and self-proclaimed guardian. He was more like a father to me, though he would never claim to be a fatherly figure. If I could say anyone had my trust, it was Nebiros. Actually, I would be willing to trust him with my life.
Nebiros answered on the second ring. “Ravyn, how was your trip, my dear?” His hoarse, baritone voice instantly sent a calm through me. Sometimes, I wished I had his calming abilities.
“Not good. I declined my services.” I couldn’t help but sigh; I was in up to my ears.
“Ah, I see. What is your reasoning, sister?” he asked. His words always carried an ancient eloquence.
“Kara Wombley,” I grumbled, not in the least bit thrilled with this case.
“I see. The Kara, I presume,” Nebiros said with a sudden interest.
“Yes, Nebiros! The Kara!” I snapped, flicking my cigarette butt across the tarmac before sliding into my car.
“I have always fancied meeting her. I suppose I will have the chance at last,” he said with a light chuckle. “Tell me what you know, my dear.”
I told him every detail of my business trip as I weaved through the always-heavy Chicago traffic, heading towards Kara’s house. It was actually her mother’s house. I knew it well because I grew up in the home right next door.
Nebiros seemed unaffected by Gabriel’s sudden kindness and the fact that Kara was the target. He also agreed that I would not be the only one currently hunting her down, since the Prophets ordered the hit. They were sloppy, often sending the information to anyone with a bad reputation, like the Old West wanted posters. Only Kara’s would read: WANTED DEAD.
After filling in Nebiros, he thought it best if we split up. Nebiros would go to Kara’s home, and I would check her mother’s business. Between the two of us we couldn’t miss her. I just hoped I wasn’t too late.
After hanging up, I headed straight there, trying to think of a plan. The only plan I could come up with involved three steps. First, stay out of sight. I didn’t want Kara or her mother, Emma, to know I was around. Second, kill anyone who got near them. Of course, only bad guys. And third, find out why the Prophets wanted her dead. Once those were complete, then I would figure out the next step.
I thought it was a good start. After all, this couldn’t be a very hard case. I had certainly had tougher ones, like the time I had to track and kill an irate Kraken. Talk about tough. No, I’m not talking about a squid. A Kraken is a huge dragon-looking thing with four arms and two legs. Its hands and feet are webbed and accompanied by massive claws, and it has a long, flat tail with sharp spikes cresting the tip. It has teeth like a crocodile, only more of them and much bigger. Top that off with armor-like scales, and the Kraken was a major pain in my ass. So by all means, this should be an easy case.