Read Her Black Heart (The Dark Amulet Series Book 2) Online
Authors: A.J. Norris
Her Black Heart (The Dark Amulet Series Book 2)
HER BLACK HEART
Book Two of
The Dark Amulet Series
A.J. Norris
HER BLACK HEART
Copyright © 2016 by A.J. Norris.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: August 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-771-5
ISBN-10: 1-68058-771-4
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To my favorite free spirit,
You will always be in my heart.
Julia
Do monsters know they’re monsters?
Julia asked herself this question a lot. She had done all the right things to show everyone around her that she had remorse for her crimes. She cried in the courtroom; wrote a letter to her best friend’s parents; fulfilled her community service sentence, and even stayed on at the Senior Center after her required hours were completed. Would a monster do this? Or was it an attempt to convince herself she wasn’t a monster? That she truly didn’t possess a dark heart? She rubbed the center of her chest.
Oh, stop it.
You’re fine.
“Julia?” a tiny voice croaked from behind her. Julia stopped in the Center’s hallway by the front doors and sighed.
All she wanted to do was go home to her dinky apartment and sleep. “Will you wait with me?”
“Where’s…?” Julia could never remember the name of the old woman’s son.
“He’s late. As usual.” Augustina rolled her cloudy eyes, one of the many gestures Julia admired about the blue-haired geriatric. The spunky lady was even known to give some of the other workers the finger behind their backs. Julia smirked at the image.
“Of course, I’ll wait with you.”
“Good, you’re the only one around here I can stand.” Augustina linked their elbows together.
“If you don’t like anybody, why do you come here?”
“To see you. And Joe. He has a nice behind and I like flirtin’ with him.” The man in question was thirty-five.
Julia snorted. “Yeah, okay. But I’m not a good person, you know.”
“Hogwash. You have gumption.”
She hated when the older woman used words she had to look up in the dictionary. “Thanks.” Hopefully, gumption was a compliment. A car pulled up in front of the building and honked the horn twice. “Looks like your ride.”
“Will I see you next Friday?” Julia nodded and opened the glass door. Augustina stepped over the threshold. “I think it’s going to rain; my arthritis is acting up. Can we give you a ride home?”
Julia stepped outside the building and looked up at the night sky. The dampness in the air weighed heavily in her lungs. Although Augustina’s weather report was probably correct, she didn’t want the woman to know where she lived. “Naw, I’ll be all right.” With an old-lady waddle, Augustina ambled to the car. Julia matched her wave as the car pulled away. The son honked again before they drove off.
After feeling the first raindrops on her arms, she almost wished she’d taken the offer. She looked up again, sighed, then started to walk home.
She curled her fingers around the leather cord of her favorite piece of jewelry, her good luck charm. The shiny pendant warmed in her palm. Julia took a quick glance over her shoulder. The evergreen hedges she passed by every Friday night looked the same. Or did they? She thought she heard rustling and quickened her pace. Rain spat in her face. She looked behind her again. The bushes moved. Her lungs squeezed. Julia’s scream caught in the back of her throat.
Something rushed up behind her. She wheezed when arms came around her middle and trapped her arms at her sides. A sweaty palm covered her mouth.
“See that car over there?” A man wrenched her head around to show her. “Do you see it, Julia?”
She squeaked and nodded. Julia knew by the putrid breath and the sound of the man’s voice, her attacker was Bryant, one of Maurice’s hired thugs. Her pulse raced. She could feel the blood pumping through the jugular veins in her neck.
“Good. I need you to get in that car.”
No way would she get into that car willingly. This was always the part in any horror film where the girl got killed. She lifted her foot and slammed it onto the toe of Bryant’s boot. He grunted but still held her in his grip.
That always worked in the movies; put up a fight and they leave you alone.
Julia brought her foot up again and kicked blindly at his shin. He cursed and she was free. She bolted, gasping. Breaths sawed in and out of her lungs and burned the back of her throat. She swallowed hard and ended up coughing on her saliva. Her feet got in the way of each other and she tripped.
Oh, God.
No!
His fingertips grazed her arm as her hands went to the pavement to break her fall. Her hip landed on the cement and the palms of her hands skidded across the coarse sidewalk. She lifted her body up, lunged forward another step, and ran into something rigid and unmoving. Julia looked straight in front of her and right at another man’s chest. He was a mountain with a terror-inducing stare. She backed up into Bryant. Big mistake, but given the look on the man’s face in front of her, the loser behind her seemed like the safer choice if she expected to get out of this situation alive. A cold blade lay across her throat.
Well, maybe not.
“W-what do you want?”
Bryant snickered. “Don’t act stupid. You’re too good for that.”
“No I’m not,” she quipped.
The other man ran a hand under the collar of her shirt and hooked a finger around the leather cord of the amulet. Her Amulet. “Maurice wants her dead,” he said, like she was nothing but a job to him.
The man yanked at the cord. The clasp at the back stretched then seemed to scream as it broke.
“No, you—”
Bryant clamped his hand over her mouth again. Her hand automatically came up to her neck. Something warm coated the palm and the ground tilted. She staggered backward and listed to the side, her head landing on the soggy grass. What had just happened? She didn’t remember falling. Footsteps retreated until she could no longer hear them.
Aza’zel
Aza’zel lay on the forest floor. The first shot of pain that had torn through his body brought him to his knees. The next one flattened him. Sweat streamed from his pores. Short breaths pumped in and out of his mouth. The demon’s body twisted and contorted, writhing on the ground. His goat-like legs snapped at the joints. Coarse dark curled hair shed off him in clumps. His cloven hooves beat and scraped at the hard-packed soil. Deep gouges cut into the earth, scattering pine needles. His guttural groans rose up to the tall trees, disturbing the nesting crows. A black mass exploded away from the commotion below. A small part of the demon knew what was happening to him. The need to stretch out his legs overwhelmed him. Bones cracked and popped, making his decision to see Earth’s realm regrettable.
Deus, the Creator of All Life, had caused this unrelenting agony. His skin prickled. The space above his forehead throbbed, where the remnants of horns remained. He’d once had a complete set of spiral spikes until the angel, Elliott the Redeemer, snapped them off—payback for the removal of his wings. Aza’zel kept his eyes clamped shut. He flopped onto his side, arched his back, and screamed. More birds squawked and flew away.
His crimson skin burned. Invisible flames licked and scorched his body. His eyes flew open; the demon needed to make sure he hadn’t caught fire. Moonlight peeked through the tree canopy. He brought a hand up to his face; something was wrong. The fingers no longer looked like claws. The nails were blunt, not long and curled over. He straightened the fingers and balled his hands into a fist, twice. As the pain started to dull, he forced his hand up to his head and felt for his horn nubs. Fear stabbed him in the center of his chest.
“No!”
They were gone.
Tears stung the backs of his eyes. He blinked and tried unsuccessfully to fight the sorrow. An acute pain jabbed his tailbone, similar to someone gripping his tail and yanking. He expected the skin around the base of his spine had ripped. But it hadn’t. Instead, he found the detached naked tail next to him. Charcoal smelling smoke rose from the length while it decayed and absorbed into the ground.
Aza’zel rolled onto his knees and elbows, resting his forehead on his arms. Sobs racked his whole body. Dimly, he became aware he was completely naked. His legs were cold. He sat up in a kneeling position. A horrifying reality settled into the pit of his stomach. Strewn about him on the ground was the thick fur that once covered his lower body.
“No!” he shouted.
The wind picked up and carried the strands away from him. He wiped the skin under his eyes with his fingers. With a deep breath, he looked down his chest. A dusting of dark hair was still there, but further down nothing shielded his genitalia from view.
“Oh, Deus.” He pitched backward onto his ass, and his legs came out in front of him. His eyes widened. He had…
feet
. Toes. He flexed and rotated his ankles and splayed the digits. How was he supposed to walk on these
things
? He shivered, dampness creeping up his spine.
Aza’zel struggled to get to his feet. His joints cracked and his body wouldn’t cooperate. His knees buckled and he landed on ground so hard his teeth rattled. He tried again to rise and managed four steps before falling onto his side. He sat on the ground for a few minutes, exhaled and labored to a standing position. His toes dug into the dirt. A small step forward…and
a
twig impaled his foot. He hopped around on one foot until he realized that if he could hop then he could walk. And the toes helped. At first, he hadn’t let the toes touch the ground. Sometimes, he was a real dumb-ass.
His head snapped back and forth as he listened to the sounds of the woods. An animal growled somewhere to his right. The sound had a steady rhythm. Either curiosity or stupidity, he wasn’t sure which, propelled him forward in the direction of the animal.
The further he walked, the closer he got to the human campsite. Pavilions sheltering picnic tables sat in the middle of a clearing. Gray and green domes dotted the area. He’d overheard these were called tents, from the humans he spied on, perched high above them on tree limbs. Humans didn’t spend a lot time looking up as it turned out.
The animal grumbled again. The sound came from inside one of the tents.
Zzz zzz.
There it was again. He chuckled deep under his breath. Of course, he’d heard snoring before. He thought of Berus, a bullheaded demon. He and many of the other animal-headed demons in Netherworld made these noises in their sleep. Netherworld…he wouldn’t be going back to his home realm anytime soon. Deus gave him a job to do. The deity had fed him certain information directly into his brain, about how to find Julia.
He needed clothes; humans didn’t run around naked. When he came around the tent, he saw what he needed. Strung between two trees on a rope was a collection of clothing. He crouched down and sprung forward. Only, without powerful goat thighs and hocks, he couldn’t leap high into the air. He stumbled and nearly face-planted. He blew out a breath and looked toward the heavens. Aza’zel inched forward and pulled a pair of pants and a shirt off the line. He glanced at his feet.
Dammit.
Humans wore shoes.
Another moronic idea entered his mind. Low to the ground, he slinked up to the tent of the snoring man. Through the mesh, he spotted a pair of boots. The fact he knew they were called boots didn’t occur to him. Aza’zel studied the closure standing between him and the shoes. He ran his palm down a tiny-toothed metal center with a tag attached to it. His hands shook as he grabbed the tag and pulled up. He ducked his upper body inside the tent and reached for the boots. The man let out another snore followed by silence. Aza’zel heard a snort, held his breath, and froze. The man drew in a long, noisy breath. The demon relaxed and withdrew from the tent with the prize in hand.
He backed up a few more feet until he was clear of the tent. When he stood to his full height, he heard a shuffle of feet. Aza’zel turned around with the boots in one hand and the clothes in the other. A woman gasped and stared at him for second, presumably waiting for her mind to catch up with whether or not to scream. The moon’s rays gave his skin an eerie bluish hue.
A bright beam of light blinded him and he dropped the clothes and covered his eyes with his arms. “Ahhhh!” He crouched down and searched for the clothing and shoes.
The woman shrieked.
Aza’zel ran off with the clothes and disappeared into the thicket.