Authors: liz schulte
jinn 02 - inferno
- Table of Contents
- 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
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
by
Liz Schulte
Inferno
Jinn Trilogy
Book Two
Copyright © 2014 by Liz Schulte
Editing by Ev Bishop
Cover design by Karri Klawiter
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
The suggested reading order for books in the Abyss World are as follows:
Secrets (The Guardian Trilogy)
Choices (The Guardian Trilogy)
Consequences (The Guardian Trilogy)
Easy Bake Coven (Easy Bake Coven series)
Be Light (The Guardian Trilogy)
Hungry, Hungry Hoodoo (Easy Bake Coven series)
Pickup Styx (Easy Bake Coven series)
Ember (The Jinn Trilogy)
Good Tidings (Baker’s Christmas Short Story in Christmas Yet To Come Anthology)
Tiddly Jinx (Easy Bake Coven series)
Inferno (The Jinn Trilogy)
Vestige (The Jinn Trilogy)
Ollie, Ollie Hex ‘N Free (The Easy Bake Coven series)
And two other books:
Sweet Little Lies (Femi short story in Cupid Painted Blind)
Good Tidings (Baker Christmas short story in the Christmas Yet to Come Anthology)
To keep up with Liz’s latest releases sign up for her newsletter here
http://lizschulte.us4.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=b24d896a4369244959d216887&id=a525d7447f
Table of Contents
Olivia, glowing brightly, walked out of a smoldering building. Wisps of smoke trailed behind her, a train of destruction. “Clear,” she said in a voice that was hardly recognizable. Her eyes flickered in my direction where I held a low level demon, waiting for her to question him. “Did he tell you anything?” she asked.
“I got another location.”
“Kill him.” She strode past us without slowing.
I nodded and slid the blade of an angelic knife across the demon’s throat. Blood gurgled and arterial spray went up like a geyser before black smoke poured from every opening in the body. The demon was dead and so was the human it inhabited. Wiping the blade on a dark rag, I slipped the knife back into its holder beneath my shirt and fell into step with Olivia. She moved fast, eyes centered ahead, always focused on our next move. The angel was a warrior through and through. She never stopped, she never rested, and she never relaxed. We were at war.
Olivia stepped over a homeless person—not seeing him or not caring he was there, hard to say. The man didn’t see her at all. No humans did. She hadn’t retracted her natural light since her mother Marge died, not once. Olivia wore the angel like a blanket, reveling in its power and hiding any softer feelings deep beneath the angel’s strength and experience, out of anyone’s reach.
Be careful what you wish for was the phrase that most often went through my head when I thought about Olivia, thought about
us
. On one hand, I didn’t have to worry about Olivia anymore. The angel would take care of her, if her human soul had survived at all. We no longer had to run from Hell or demons. These days we took the fight to them, leaving nothing but smoke and ashes in our wake—no survivors human or otherwise. The angel had produced a small, unornamented dagger and gave it to me with the instructions to only use it on heavenly creatures or abominations—aka demons and jinn. Where she kept these weapons, or how many she had, was anyone’s guess, but their existence had certainly changed our position from a flea on a dog’s back to the dog catcher. Hell was on the run, but I couldn’t help thinking it was temporary. Eventually they would find something she couldn’t defeat; it was their way. She had no such concerns.
On the other hand, though, I barely caught glimpses of the woman I loved and even those felt like figments of my imagination, like I was grasping at the smallest threads of hope that she was still in there. The love and warmth for everyone she’d exuded before had vanished. And our connection was silent. It still existed, but where she used to glow in my mind there was only darkness, a gaping hole completely shut off to me, but, perhaps, quietly monitoring every thought I had.
If I stepped out of line, would she kill me? It was possible. The idea didn’t bother me as much as it probably should have. After all, I’d lived with that sword of Damocles over my head for most of my existence as a jinni. That said, I hadn’t given up hope. This wasn’t the first time grief caused Olivia to retreat. She could still recover and come back. She had always defied expectations and there was no reason to think she wouldn’t do so again. Besides, any Olivia, even one who in too many ways resembled myself, was better than none. Hope was a dangerous thing.
Losing Marge caused a ripple that was growing into a tidal wave. It wasn’t just Olivia either. Sure she was clearing out cells of demons as fast as Baker, Femi, and I could track them down, but the effects were wider than that. It was hard to control my own anger these days. My tenuous grasp on my emotions was at best slippery. Falling back into old habits of silence and solitude didn’t make matters easier either. The instinct to hurt and make others suffer was alive and well within me, not at all changed by being in possession of my soul. The old Olivia had made me more aware of my actions, but the inclinations never went away. They simply went dormant, waiting to be called on. The new angel-controlled Olivia did nothing to help my better side flourish. At least punishing demons with her was enough for her right now—and I prayed it stayed that way. I had to hold it together because that was what
real
Olivia would expect of me if she was still in there somewhere. I wasn’t going to disappoint her again.
Quintus was wisely terrified of Olivia. He avoided her whenever possible. Even though it wasn’t his fault the guardian watching Marge was killed—thus failed to protect her—the side-eyed glances Olivia gave him made us all doubt she cared about technicalities. When he had anything to report, he came to me directly, and in true Quintus fashion, he took the blame she wanted to place on him, as he had done with Juliet. Quintus didn’t argue or defend himself, just stoically accepted his failure to live up to her impossible expectations. Baker asked him why once, and all he said was that if she needed someone to blame, the least he could do was be that person for her. The only time he ever brought her up with me was to simply ask if she was okay.