Death Lord

2

As she threw another blast of ice at me, the bobcat shifter took the moment to dart away. Damn it. I’d have to hunt him down again after I drained this one of life.

“You’re going to regret that,” I said as I enveloped the shifter in thick, inky darkness. She struggled as it wrapped her limbs tight to her body until she could hardly breathe. She let out a gasp, her bright eyes flaring as she looked at me defiantly. She didn’t seem scared.

You will be, I thought with satisfaction as I stalked forward, tightening my darkness around her in slight increments. She’d already ruined my hunt, so I didn’t mind making her suffer just a little bit before I drained her of life. She struggled harder, seeming intent on getting away from me. She bared her canines as I drew closer, trying to bite my hand as it lifted toward her.

“Don’t worry, it will all be over soon,” I said as I wrapped my hand around her throat. Our eyes locked and I was struck again by her beauty, even as my fingers tightened on her soft, delicate skin. A shame to kill one so lovely, but if she was working with the bobcat shifter then she deserved this fate.

I began to drain her of life…but nothing happened.

Something was different. It took me a few heartbeats to realize I didn’t feel the overwhelming need to feed anymore. For once, I wasn’t absolutely starving for life.

Instead, I felt a different type of hunger. Like lust, but stronger. I wanted to devour her, but in a completely different way than usual. My thumb brushed against her pulse, which was beating rapidly, and my gaze fell to her lips. I had a sudden desire to pull her closer and claim her mouth with a rough kiss. Or to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back to my bar, where I’d spread her legs and feast on her p***y.

My hunger for death had been replaced—by a hunger for her.

2

EIRA

B

elial tossed me to the ground as if I’d scalded his hand and he couldn’t let go of me fast enough. I landed hard on the dirty cement and clutched my neck, drawing a deep breath into my aching, burning lungs. He could have killed me easily, just like his other victims—so why had he stopped? And what was that weird sensation I’d felt when he’d touched me? Something that felt...right. Even with his hand around my neck, choking the life out of me. Which made zero f*****g sense.

I looked up at the man the press called the Grim Reaper of New Orleans as I tried to catch my breath. Belial’s tall, muscular frame towered above me, and his presence bled into the space outside of the physical bounds of his body, taking up more room than he had any right to. He wore a black cloak with a hood that completely hid his face, though I’d caught a glimpse of his hard eyes and chiseled jaw when he’d stared at my mouth like he’d been about to kiss me. Another thing that made no sense.

“Who are you?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

Anger flared inside me at the sound. He was the reason shifters had been going missing all around the city. He was also my father’s killer. I had to stop him at all costs.

“I am vengeance.” As soon as the words left my mouth I launched myself upwards, shifting mid-lunge into a huge white wolf, my claws and fangs crystallizing into lethal ice.

But he dodged my attack easily, moving so quickly I almost missed it. I twisted and tried to attack again, but he simply maneuvered away in the blink of an eye once more. No matter how much I attacked, he didn’t fight back, but simply stared at me. I couldn’t see his expression, but I got the impression he was studying me, or perhaps sizing me up. Like a specimen laid out under a microscope, bright lights trained on me and a giant eye watching my every move.

I shifted back into my human form and threw multiple shards of ice at him in quick succession. He didn’t dodge this time, but simply raised a hand up. Blue flame lit in his hand, melting the ice, and I froze at the sight—hellfire. Only Belial and his father Lucifer possessed such a deadly power, and if it hit me, this would all be over.

Was that how he’d killed my father?

My anger flared once more, burning deep in my stomach, and I let out a yell as I rushed Belial. I formed an ice sword in each hand and swung them around, preparing to attack. He formed a sword made of darkness and easily parried my attacks, as if my years of combat training was nothing against him. Damn it! What would it take to kill this asshole?

I raised my swords to strike again, but a rush of dark power rolled out of Belial in a wave. My jaw fell open as something burst through the cement at my feet—a bony white hand. A choked scream escaped me as more hands reached up all around me, grabbing for my boots and anything else they could use for leverage. I could only gape in horror as freaking skeletons started crawling out of the ground, moving closer with jerky movements like something out of a nightmare. Belial only looked on as bony fingers reached for me. I chopped and dodged, but the skeletons were relentless and their undead hands wrapped around my upper arms, holding me firmly in place. I gritted my teeth, unsure how I was going to get out of this alive, as I conjured shards of ice, but they did little against the skeletons surrounding me.