The Dark Princess (The Balance Series Book 3) Page 2

  Black pupils dilated as they focused on me, the muscles beneath its matted fur tensing. The thing didn’t just look like it was going to charge at me - it was going to charge at me.

  Sucking in a breath, I took off. The sound of its hooves thundering through the mud was like fire at my heels. Cursing, I tried to move faster, the house now in view.

  I just had to get in the door. I just had to put something between it and me.

  Please don’t have locked the door, I prayed inwardly. My mom was notorious for forgetting to lock our door. Although there were times when she actually remembered her keys and what they were used for. Today, I hoped for the former scenario. I couldn’t lose precious time.

  Just then, I felt my left foot sink into a pot hole, my ankle twisting from the sudden change in terrain. Before I could comprehend just what had happened, my body was falling.

  Mud splattered up into my face and in my mouth. Crying out, my hands sank into the gravel, bracing for impact as the entire front of me was soaked in dirt and water. Choking on the taste of earth on my tongue, I quickly wiped at my face, only managing to smear more dirt into my eyes.

  The charging creature behind me hadn’t lost speed. Scrambling, I pushed myself up, my feet slipping again as I tried to gain some ground.

  If I hadn’t been so frantic to get away, I would have sworn I had heard the beast laugh. My mind knew it wasn’t possible, but I could feel its sense of victory as I went to run again, knowing very well it was pointless. The fall had obliterated any distance I might have put between us that could have saved me from the fate it had planned for me.

  Even so, I tried my hardest to reach my home. The snap of its jaw at my heels had me pushing forward even faster, to no avail.

  It was useless.

  And no matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t waking from this dream like I usually did.

  Maybe because it’s not a dream, a voice in my mind pointed out.

  Another near miss of teeth and skin had me crying out. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable, when suddenly my feet felt as though they were floating above ground. Snapping open, my eyes looked down to see that I was indeed flying over where I had been only seconds before, my entire body rapidly rising up and away from the snarling creature.

  Before I knew it, I was landing on a wide branch, high above the ground below. The creature hadn’t given up, its fur clad back now making circles around the base of the tree I stood in.

  “How in the - “

  I didn’t manage to finish my sentence before a black, slender arrow zipped by my face, embedding itself into the skull of my predator.

  “Holy crap,” I breathed, watching as the thing crumpled to the ground, dead.

  The sense of being near danger stayed with me, even though I could see the thing wasn’t breathing anymore. I realized then that I wasn’t in the tree alone.

  Slowly, my mind acutely aware of just how high up I was, I shifted to look behind me.

  The breath I’d been about to take lodged in my throat.

  Who?

  What?

  How?

  My eyes didn’t know what to look at first, taking in so much of him at once, it was hard to comprehend the man, creature, before me. He too seemed to be inspecting me curiously, his oddly dark eyes scanning me from head to toe. Just the movement of it had my body breaking out into a sudden hot flash.

  While he had a face that was flawlessly tanned and angular in a way that was both beautiful and unnatural, and eyes that were shaped like a human’s, but of a colour I’d never seen on any other person, the entire eye filled with inky black, it was what rose behind him that really told me whoever this man was, he most certainly wasn’t human.

  Large, bat-like wings protruded from his back. I took them in, knowing full well that my mouth hung open as though I was a slack-jawed moron standing before him. Even in my stupor, I couldn’t help but take in his bare chest, sculpted in a way that made me wonder if he wasn’t actually a statue, except that I could see he was breathing. Black pants hung low on his hips, his arms and chest filled with markings that I didn’t understand, yet seemed somehow familiar.

  Slowly, my gaze rose again to meet his, and I understood now why I hadn’t felt completely safe when the creature below had died. Even though this man had clearly saved me from that thing, there was nothing safe about him. Danger, cold and calculated, radiated off him. Our eyes held, his giving away nothing of what was going through his mind.

  “What?” I licked my dry lips, trying to gather my thoughts. His gaze flickered down for a second before meeting mine again. “What are you?” I managed to ask.

  His lips pressed in a line before opening to reply. His gravelly voice washed over me, sending shivers down my spine as he replied,

  “In deep shit.”

  Two

  Little Girl

  I blinked. “P-pardon?”

  His mouth turned down into a frown, as he ran a hand over the dark buzzed hair on his head.

  My eyes drifted over him again, unable to accept what I was looking at. Had I fallen and hit my head? No, I didn’t remember falling. Was I really dreaming this entire day?

  Stepping forward on shaky legs, my gaze purposefully avoiding looking down at the ground far, far beneath me, I reached out a hesitant hand toward his bare chest.

  Muscles instantly bunched under my touch a second before a rough, masculine hand gripped my wrist in a firm hold, halting any further exploration. It wasn’t painful, per se, but it was enough to affirm two things - one, this was definitely not a dream, and two, he, whoever and whatever he was, did not like to be touched.

  Gulping, I lifted my gaze to meet his.

  “What are you?”

  Cold, dark, inhuman eyes watched me carefully.

  “You’re dreaming this,” he said in a toneless voice after a moment of silence.

  I shook my head once. “No, I’m not. That thing...” I said, finally looking down at the beast below, “nearly took off my foot.”

  “That thing is something people only see in nightmares,” he said, his hand still wrapped around my wrist. His skin was hot on mine, and considerably distracting.

  His words finally penetrated my befuddled mind, and the truth of it registered in me. I looked back down.

  I had seen that thing in my nightmares. Quite frequently I’d been having horrible dreams about being chased by something dark and snarling. Hadn’t I already decided it was one and the same?

  I frowned, glancing back up at the winged man before me, and then at the limb of the massive tree we were standing on, hundreds of feet above the ground. Was I dreaming? Why didn’t this feel like a dream then?

  The man took a step closer, seemingly unfazed by the height we were at. My instincts said to move back, keep my distance from him, but his hold on me wouldn’t allow it.

  Slowly, so slow I wasn’t sure he was even moving until his face was suddenly closer, he leaned down toward me. I sucked in a breath, my chest tightening as I suddenly felt a rush of heat wash over me. His other hand lifted to lightly grip my chin. A spark speared through my body from where he touched me just as I saw white lightening shoot through his eyes, briefly shattering the darkness there. My breath whooshed out of me.

  Dark brows lifted, a look of surprise crossing his face for a mere second. Had I not been looking at him as closely as I was, I would have missed it.

  “Interesting,” he murmured.

  “What is?” I whispered before I could stop myself. You, I thought, my cheeks flaming at the private acknowledgment.

  The blank stare I was already getting accustomed to fell across his face again like a heavily worn mask.

  “Listen, little girl,” he started.

  I instantly bristled at the condescending tone, wrenching my face from his fingers.

  “I am not a little girl,” I snapped. “I’m seventeen.”

  Full lips twitched, amusement filling
his eyes. It did funny things to my stomach. I decided then that his emotionless mask was much better for those around him to handle.

  “Seventeen? Ms. French, that is merely a blink in time. A speckle, barely acknowledgeable by one such as myself.”

  I snorted, quite unappealingly, but I didn’t care. “Don’t we think quite highly of ourselves?” I said. “What are you?” I looked him up and down. “No more than twenty-five?”

  He smirked. “I have a lot of work to do, and dealing with little girls is not on the list. In fact, because of you, my list just got considerably longer, and more complicated for that matter.”

  “Oh, well excuse me,” I said, throwing my arms out, about to toss some witty retort back at him I’m sure, except the movement had me tipping to the side.

  In all my indignation at dealing with this man-thing in front of me, I had forgotten we were still standing in a tree. My feet slipped, my body tilting over and falling. In the second that I looked at my previous saviour, my eyes wide in fear, I didn’t miss the winged man roll his eyes before effortlessly catching me and setting me back on the branch as though I weighed nothing.

  It chaffed me.

  Even though he had technically just saved my life - again - it pissed me right off.

  Opening my mouth, I didn’t get a word out before he pulled me close, saying, “enough.”

  His face came close to mine again, his mouth hovering over my lips, his scent and energy surrounding me as the forest around us faded into the background. My body felt like it was on fire, my mind struggling to keep up.

  A sluggish haze washed over me as he kept his lips just out of reach of mine. My hands grabbed his arms, wanting nothing more than to pull him that last inch. The only thing stopping me was my pride, and the fact that I didn’t like this demon-man.

  Demon.

  Yes, something about that felt right in relation to him.

  Black dots swam before my eyes, and that was when I realized that he was breathing into me, and whatever it was he was doing, it was causing my consciousness to falter.

  Before I felt myself slip into total blackness, knowing there was no fighting it - no fighting him, I met his stare, seeing those flashes of lightening in his eyes, and managed to get out, “your name. What’s your name?”

  His gaze narrowed slightly as he seemed at war with himself whether or not he should answer.

  The dots clouding my vision finally took over, my mind falling along with my body into an abyss I’d never felt before. But not before I heard his final reply.

  “Cillian,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Cillian Black.”

  Cillian walked across the lobby floor, flexing his back to get more comfortable. Wearing his human glamour was something he avoided most days. To those around him, he was just another man wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt beneath a black jacket. No one would see the slits at the back of his clothes, or the large wings protruding out of them.

  He even softened his features to appear more human, lightening his eyes to a dark brown instead of the black they truly were. Given his shifting ability, he could have just appeared in Caleb’s office for their meeting, but his leader seemed to think it was time Cillian became slightly more civilized.

  He snorted at the thought.

  Cillian was a millennia-old demon. What did he care if he was “civilized” or not? The ignorant humans around him should be scared by his true visage, it was only natural. Pulling at the fabric of the shirt he’d put on, he reminded himself it was all part of playing the game. Even if wearing shirts was one of the things he hated most about blending in with mortals. They were too constraining. He much preferred to be able to stretch his wings out whenever he wanted.

  Looking around as he waited for the elevator, he wondered just how the puny humans here would react if he did drop his glamour. He smirked at the screams that would surely follow.

  Hope hadn’t screamed.

  The thought hit him unexpectedly, causing his mood to plummet again. This meeting had been called even before the events that afternoon, but now he was going to have to fill them in, and he wasn’t looking forward to Caleb’s reaction.

  Considering that Caleb Black was the King of all demons, the Devil himself as humans liked to label him, he was a relatively reasonable person. Unlike his father before him, Caleb ruled with a firm yet fair approach. No one crossed him. That would just be stupid. While he wasn’t cruel like his father, Dermot Black had been, or his brother Kellan had become, he wasn’t one to be trifled with. He was the strongest of their kind. Even his older, and only remaining brother, Collin couldn’t match his strength.

  And besides, he had the infamous Cillian Black as his second. Only a fool would piss them off.

  Which is exactly what had just happened. There was something afoot, and whoever was behind it was about to realize they’d messed with the wrong people.

  “Where have you been?”

  Cillian looked up to see Collin waiting in the foyer of the penthouse suite, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the table.

  “Were you waiting for me?” He wasn’t late.

  The other demon watched him closely as he exited the elevator. He opened his mouth but was interrupted before he could speak.

  “You two, in here. Now!” Caleb barked, his back already retreating down the hall.

  Cillian turned to Collin again, but he just gave him a thoughtful look before following his brother. Shrugging, Cillian headed to the sitting room, taking a seat on the arm of the couch so he wouldn’t crush his wings.

  The scent of sulphur and decay hit his nostrils a second before Cain appeared. The horned, red skinned demon was still Caleb’s other right-hand man, even though that he had tortured Caleb’s mate - before she left. Left, because she couldn’t stand what Caleb had become after killing his father.

  For her. It had all been for her.

  His mind instantly flashed back to the smell and feel of creamy white skin beneath his hand. Long, dark hair and blue eyes framed by dark lashes burned into him even in his mind’s eye. He flexed his hand at his side, remembering the jolt that had racked his body when he’d gripped Hope’s face.

  You’re in trouble, he thought to himself.

  Pushing the image of Hope French from his mind, he glanced up to see Collin watching him with a knowing, and displeased look from across the room. Shifting his gaze away, he focused on Cain, listening to him rattle off the latest reports from Erebus. Cillian half-listened, wondering if it was possible that the deserters there were responsible for the attack on Hope. He decided it was unlikely. They were stupid, but not that stupid. He knew who led them, and the man was smart enough to know when and how to pick his battles.

  “What about our political endeavours here?” Caleb asked when he was done.

  Collin spoke up then. “All is going well,” he said, almost sounding bored. “The humans are easily riled up with a few choice words and violent events. At this rate, you could even become president if we so desired.”

  Caleb frowned at the idea. “Pass. I have enough to deal with, without taking on the humans as well.” He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the desk in front of him. “The humans can destroy themselves on their own. They don’t need my interference to accomplish that.”

  They all nodded in agreement. While it was in Caleb’s nature to encourage evil in the world, it was true that he had to do little to actually facilitate it. The humans were much more inclined to cross that blurry line between good and bad far easier than some of the immortal beings Cillian had come across in his lifetime. He’d know vampires who weren’t as blood thirsty as the gun-toting humans that ran their world. Plus, Caleb had his own people to deal with in the demon realm.

  “It’s the sixteenth,” Collin said, meaningfully.

  “Right,” Caleb replied, a shadowing falling over his face. “Have a flower arrangement sent.”

  “Anything on th
e note?”

  He looked down at his desk, his fingers idly drumming. “Just, congratulations on your release,” he said.

  Collin nodded. “Should I sign it from you?”

  Caleb snorted. “Not if you want her to throw the entire thing out.”

  Cillian knew how much his leader, and friend, suffered from not having his mate, Vivian, by his side. Well, maybe he didn’t quite know, having never mated himself, nor found anyone worth spending more than a night with. There had been a Valkyrie once that seemed to have wanted to stay connected longer than just a quick tryst, but even she couldn’t entice him.