Dark Curse Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dark Curse, Shadow and Light, Book Five

  Copyright © 2019 by Kim Richardson

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction

  in whole or in any form.

  Cover by Kim Richardson

  Text in this book was set in Garamond.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Summary: A darkness rises in Rowyn. It seduces her, all the while consuming little pieces of her soul. But if she embraces the darkness, will she ever be the same?

  [1. Supernatural—Fiction. 2. Demonology—Fiction.

  3. Magic—Fiction].

  CONTENTS

  BOOKS BY KIM RICHARDSON

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHATPER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  DARK ANGEL

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BOOKS BY KIM RICHARDSON

  SHADOW AND LIGHT

  Dark Hunt

  Dark Bound

  Dark Rise

  Dark Gift

  Dark Curse

  Dark Angel

  TEEN AND YOUNG ADULT

  SOUL GUARDIANS

  Marked

  Elemental

  Horizon

  Netherworld

  Seirs

  Mortal

  Reapers

  Seals

  THE HORIZON CHRONICLES

  The Soul Thief

  The Helm of Darkness

  The City of Flame and Shadow

  The Lord of Darkness

  MYSTICS SERIES

  The Seventh Sense

  The Alpha Nation

  The Nexus

  DIVIDED REALMS

  Steel Maiden

  Witch Queen

  Blood Magic

  1

  The ghoul demon was seven feet tall and drooling. Its features twisted grotesquely to make it look like a cauliflower with a mouth that could fit a turkey. It was more ape-like than humanoid, its talons grazing the earth where it stood, hunched back and waiting, next to the corpse it had been feeding on. Its flesh was red and raw, like it was turned inside out, and it was naked except for a pair of soiled jeans it probably stole from one of the dead. The sheer size told me it was male, but it could have been a big-boned female for all I knew. You could never really tell with ghouls.

  I wrinkled my nose at the stink of sulfur and carrion. I hated ghouls. They were mean, dirty, and fed on the rotten flesh from cadavers. Cemeteries were their favorite go-to locations when they escaped from the Netherworld, hosting what I liked to call all-you-can-eat dead buffets. Ghouls weren’t the brightest lights in the Netherworld harbor either, and there was something seriously disturbing about eating the flesh from dead humans long buried in the cemetery.

  But I went where the money was, and cemeteries were gold mines of paranormal baddies.

  My eyes traveled to the stone mansion that sat on a one-hundred-acre farm in Litchfield County. The family cemetery was enclosed by a stone wall and surrounded by cherry and apple trees with a large meditation garden. Even at night, the grounds were spectacular, lit with silver hues from the light of the full moon. Did I mention it was a full moon? There was something supernatural about a full moon. I had no idea what it was, but somehow demons and all other supernatural creatures seemed to draw strength from a full moon. It was when most of them decided to show up and play.

  The ghoul swirled around to face me, its distorted features furious and strings of flesh hanging from its drooling mouth around fish-like teeth. Nice.

  I gripped my hunting knife. A soul blade would have been ideal, but I hadn’t had the time or the inclination to go to the angel-born armory to ask for some more. Soul blades were precious, and I’d lost mine. I wasn’t in the mood for that conversation with them. The hunting knife would have to do.

  “Can I kill it now?” Layla stood next to me, the whites of her eyes showing in the moonlight. She fidgeted on the spot, twin curved daggers clasped in her hands as she smiled up at me like I’d just given her my credit card to go on a shopping spree. The woman was a tad crazy. Ran in the family.

  “Patience, Layla,” I told her, trying hard not to smile so as not to set her off. “We don’t want to scare the humans. This needs to be done quietly, quickly and neatly. Got it?” Ghouls might be a little slow it terms of their brain capacity, but they were big and strong and fast. I didn’t want Layla to get hurt.

  Layla blew a large pink bubble. As it burst, she said grinning, “Yes, boss.”

  It had been just over two days since Layla had left Ethan and the other Unmarked. There was a nervous energy about her, so I needed to keep her busy, and training her to be a Hunter like me was exactly what she needed. It kept her focused and gave her a sense of purpose and gratification. She was my little sister, in a disturbing “dark magic science project” kind of way. I was all she had now, and she was my responsibility until I felt she didn’t need me anymore.

  Having Layla around was also therapeutic. It helped me stay focused and not be a total spaz about what Lucian had done to me. Things had happened so fast, and I hadn’t had time to take a moment and really think about what it all meant.

  I killed an angel’s soul...

  The image of the angel who took his own life in my apartment two days ago flashed into my mind’s eye, and my anger flared to life. I’d barely touched him. And I’d killed his soul.

  The whole Lucian gift thing had me wired tightly. My thoughts vacillated between rage and betrayal. I felt like an idiot. I felt deceived, but my anger won the emotional battle. I was going to kick his ass when he showed up again. And I knew he would.

  If I could kick my own ass, I would. I’d been so, so stupid. He was an archdemon. I should have known his gift was a lie. I should have seen this coming. The bastard had tricked me.

  This gift of his wasn’t a gift at all. It was a curse.

  Granted, having this power had been useful when I fought Ethan’s dark magic. But I didn’t like to think that with a single touch from my hands, I could kill an angel’s soul. There was something very untoward about that, and a chill licked up my spine that had nothing to do with the cool breeze.

  Usually when angels died on this plane, it was only the death of their mortal suits, their temporary vessels. Their angel souls would travel back to Horizon, back on duty. Angels were celestial beings and weren’t that easy to kill. Weapons existed that could kill an angel and their soul. A death blade was one, but that took a lot of effort and skill, and it didn’t always work. Killing the archangel Vedriel was different. For one he deserved it, and two, I’d done it with the help of my friends and a death blade. Not my hands.

  Since I was a child I knew it was the same for mortals. The soul never truly died. It was one of the things that kept me sane, that had kept me from breaking down after what happened to my parents. I knew their souls would live on forever,
born into other mortal babies to start their lives again.

  “Angel filth,” said the ghoul, speaking in low, cruel tones and I brought my attention back on its putrid face. “Smell not same.”

  “What was that, ghoulie?” I asked, making a show of my hunting knife. “You think I smell nice? It’s probably the new perfume I’m wearing—eau de Hunter.”

  The ghoul’s black eyes rested on me. “Not same,” it said again.

  “Yeah, you said that already.” I rolled my eyes. This was going to be a really easy five hundred bucks. But its size had my blood pounding through my veins. It was by far the largest ghoul I’d ever encountered in my line of work. Maybe it was slower?

  The ghoul scrunched up its face and pointed at me. “Stink.”

  I gave the demon a mock shocked expression. “I’m not the one who smells like sewer water. Don’t they have showers in the Netherworld? Or do you guys all shower with sewer water?”

  “Stink,” said the ghoul, louder this time. “Stink. Not same.”

  Layla laughed and I shot her a dirty look. “You’re not helping.”

  The young woman gave me a shrug, not caring to hide the giant smile on her pretty face. She was having way too much fun at my expense.

  I shifted on my feet and gave the ghoul a predator’s smile. “You’ve been a very naughty ghoul. You know you can’t feed on the dead. First because, well, it’s disgusting. And second because it’s just wrong.” I cocked my hip. “So, now I have to kill you.”

  The ghoul gave a loud, earsplitting scream and then—

  It lunged at me, slashing with talons and fangs so swift, it would have killed most humans. But I wasn’t human. Damn. This thing was fast.

  Dancing on my toes, I sprang at the ghoul, holding my breath—because if you were me you would too—as I dodged a killing blow from its talons and spun, landing a kick on the side of its ribs and hitting solid flesh.

  But then my foot pierced through its flesh all the way past my ankle to the other side. Yikes.

  “Ew,” I gagged as I pulled my boot away. Strings of its flesh stuck to it, long and pale like stretched out gum.

  The ghoul laughed and so did Layla. It was that kind of night. Full moons always were.

  “Eat. You,” said the ghoul, straightening, a hole in its side where my boot had been.

  “Thanks,” I said, as I patted my stomach. “But I’ve already had my recommended twenty-four hundred calories today.” It was the only break I gave it before I went on the offensive.

  Grinning, I shot forward like a midnight storm. I danced around it, punch after punch, ducking, blocking, lunging, and spinning. The ghoul hissed, its writhing body not fast enough to stop me from slicing up its putrid flesh as it foamed at the mouth at the swiftness of my attack.

  “Good one,” I heard Layla’s approval from behind me. I turned to see her sitting on one of the headstones, picking at her nails with one of her daggers.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Feel free to jump in anytime.”

  “I would, but you look like you’ve got the hang of things,” said Layla, showing me her perfectly straight teeth. “Just holler if you need me. I’ll be right here.”

  “Of course you will.” I could handle the ghoul demon on my own, but I wanted her to learn. Different demons came with their own set of different weaknesses and strengths. She had to learn them all if she wanted to be a Hunter.

  Layla blew and burst another bubble. “Look out.”

  “What?”

  Something hard struck me in the back, just as I was assaulted by the hot, carrion fumes from the ghoul. We hit the ground together, me headfirst and with a mouthful of grass and dirt, and it on top of me. Damn that ghoul was heavy.

  I rolled, not waiting for it to slash me with its sharp talons or to sink its teeth into my flesh. I slipped from under its weight and pushed to my feet. It swatted a hand at me, but I sidestepped and kicked it in the face.

  The ghoul demon shrieked in pain. It staggered back, clutching at its face, its black blood gleaming in the moonlight. Its pitch-black eyes shone with fury and a savage hunger. No doubt if it killed me, the demon would try to eat me. Since it preferred rotten flesh, it might leave me in the sun for a couple of days until my body was just ripe enough.

  “Should I be writing this down or something?” asked Layla as she crossed her legs, her head rolling off slightly to the side. She looked seductive in her tight leather pants and bustier.

  I let out an irritated grunt. “If you want—”

  The ghoul lashed out and knocked my feet from under me. I hissed through my teeth and then elbowed the ghoul in the stomach to keep from being shoved headfirst into the corpse it had been feasting on.

  The demon licked its lips, and said, “Me. Know.”

  I grimaced at the chunks of slimy rotten flesh that spotted my jacket. It would take forever to get the smell out. I hated ghouls.

  “Know what, stinker?”

  The ghoul muttered something in a strange language. It nodded its head, black blood leaking from its maw and black gore in its fangs. “Know. Stink. Not same. Know Lucian.”

  I stilled. “What did you say?” What the hell? I lowered my dagger. “Did you just say Lucian?” From the corner of my eye I saw Layla jump to her feet at the sound of alarm in my voice.

  The ghoul let out a wet cackle. “Lucian. Not same. You.”

  Something was very wrong with the way the demon was watching me now with newfound interest, like it knew something about me that I didn’t. Obviously it did, and I didn’t like that. How could a demon from the Netherworld know something about me? What was going on? What the hell did it mean?

  My pulse pounded as I pointed my blade at its face and circled it. “What about Lucian? You’re going to tell me everything you know. Tell me!”

  The demon chuckled, a sound that skittered down into my veins, icing them. “No kill. But will taste.”

  My heart throbbed as I pondered the demon’s threat. “You’re going to taste the edge of my blade if you don’t start talking,” I threatened. “Tell me about Lucian. What do you know about me?”

  The ghoul grimaced in what I guessed was its attempt to smile. A gray tongue lolled out of its jaw, licking its lips and said, “Taste.”

  The demon lunged with frightening speed, jaws snapping at my neck as I barely had time to retreat from its sharp teeth. The damn thing was big and fast. Super.

  I spun, and a rush of adrenaline pulsed through me. The ghoul came at me without pause, heaving itself at me, its large maw open with ropes of yellow drool hanging from it. I almost puked.

  Instead, I sent a kick where I imagined its knees were. It hissed and staggered back, only to spring forward again.

  Panting, I shot toward it and plunged my dagger into its body, black blood spraying up from the wound to soak my arm and clothes. The air was suddenly full of rotten-meat stench, laced with the reek of sulfur. I gagged as the demon fell.

  And then I was on top of it. The ghoul snarled and I felt a burn of anger.

  “Tell me!” I cried, my blade up under its jaw. “Tell me or you’ll never eat dead flesh ever again. I swear it!”

  The ghoul opened its maw, a massive black circular mouth rimmed with shark teeth. “The change,” it hissed.

  Ice descended over me. “What?”

  The ghoul bucked and slipped from under me as I fell on my knees. Before I knew what was happening, it smacked my hand away, sending my hunting knife soaring in the air. Oh. Shit.

  The demon raised its sharp talons with a savage snarl, and then it sprang—

  Layla lunged forward, sinking her double-edged blades into its throat and slashing back and forth. She sliced it to ribbons, showering us in its entrails and blood.

  “Layla! Wait!”

  It was all over in a matter of ten seconds. The ghoul’s flesh bubbled and simmered, seeping into the earth until all that remained were the filthy pair of blue jeans.

  Layla stepped back. She looked at me with a h
uge grin plastered across her blood-smeared face, like a crazed-killer in a horror film.

  “See?” she said. “I just saved your ass. You can thank me later. Or now.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” I pushed myself to my feet. “But you killed it before it could tell me something important.” My anger flared, but it wasn’t fair to blame Layla. She was only trying to help.

  Layla sheathed her blades around her weapons belt. “Tell you what?”

  “Nothing.” I didn’t want to get into the details. I liked Layla, but I barely knew her. She knew about my gift—she’d seen it with her own eyes—but she didn’t know about what happened to angels when I touched them. And I was going to keep it that way, for now.

  “Come on,” I told her as I started up the small mound towards the big house. “The Grahams are waiting.”

  “What about the body?” Layla was staring at the human corpse, pale bones showing through chunks of missing flesh where the ghoul had fed.

  “Not my problem,” I called back, wanting to get out of my sticky clothes. The thought of a nice hot shower nearly had me moaning.

  Sure enough the old couple were in the exact spot where I’d left them twenty minutes ago, next to the entrance gate.

  The closer we got to them, the paler they got. Their eyes were wide as they took in our bloody, flesh-speckled clothes and faces. I knew we looked terrible but what was the point of trying to wipe it off now? They’d already seen us.

  Mrs. Graham broke the silence. “Was it coyotes?” asked the woman, white and pale. She looked up at me, eyes glassy but not seeing. She clutched her black scarf as though it were life itself.

  Coyotes. Poor beautiful creatures. Always getting blamed for grave diggings and disturbances. It wasn’t fair.

  “It was,” I answered. Humans. Part of me was tempted to tell them the truth, that it wasn’t coyotes disrupting the graves of their dead relatives, but a big ol’ ghoul gnawing on their flesh.

  “Did you... did you kill them all?” inquired Mr. Graham, his arms crossed over his chest. He was attempting to look in control but I could see the fear dancing behind his light eyes.