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Authors: Sherry Soule

BOOK: Destiny Disrupted
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Trent broke the kiss and stood. He reached down and pulled me to my feet. “Enough for today.”

My eyes widened. “What do you mean? It’s only four o’clock and we’ve barely begun.” And I wasn’t just talking about our training regime. “Stay and I’ll make us dinner.”

His phone buzzed and he checked the screen. “No thanks,” he said with an edge to his voice. “There’s something I gotta do.”

“Like what?”

“Just stuff.” His cell buzzed again. “I really have to go.” He glanced at me. “Will the wards zap me again when I leave?”

“The spell only keeps evil things out. It doesn’t trap them inside,” I said.

Without answering, Trent grabbed his stuff and hurried up the steps. The front door banged shut.

Had I said or done something wrong?

Trudging upstairs, I went into the bathroom and filled the tub. As I tugged off my clothes, I spotted a livid bruise on my hip and another on my left thigh. Opening the cabinet above the sink, I drank one of the healing potions, then tossed the vial into the wastebasket.

I slipped into the hot water, the muscles in my shoulders and arms instantly relaxing. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the water flow over my body.

The doorbell rang and my eyes snapped open.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The doorbell’s loud chime penetrated my sleepiness with all the subtlety of a hammer, and had me sitting up in the tub. Water sloshed over the side and drenched the tiled floor. I quickly dried off and hurried into my bedroom to throw on a pair of PJ bottoms and an old T-shirt, then I went downstairs to investigate.

As my foot touched the last step, the doorbell rang again, peeling through the house. I stamped to the front door. The living room was dark, the blinds shut tight. It contained a sectional couch that wrapped round a coffee table, which faced a brick fireplace and the TV.

Slipping on a hoodie from the hook in the entryway, I squinted through the peek-hole. No one stood on the porch. I pressed my ear to the wood. Listened. Waited.

Please don’t let it be more demons.
Which was a silly thought, because I was pretty sure paranormals didn’t play doorbell ditch. And they couldn’t cross the wards without getting zapped and trapped.

I stared at the door. Open it or ignore it. Be a coward or be brave. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the knob, then jerked the door open. I stuck my head out and frowned. The porch was empty. The brisk air felt damp on my skin from the lingering fog.

I spotted Raze lounging under a redwood near the side fence. My heart rate slowed. No demons. Whew. A chill seemed to exhale from him, raising goosebumps on my skin.

If Raze had stopped by to warn me about some new supernatural threat visiting Fallen Oaks, I really didn’t want to know. At least not right now. Sometimes a girl needed to take a
pause
between battling big bad evils.

“What are you doing here?” I called from the doorway, hugging myself.

Raze didn’t answer, only grinned, turning the flecks of violet in his eyes brighter.

Stepping onto the porch, I shut the door behind me, and rested both hands on my hips. I resisted the urge to tap my foot. “
Hel-lo?
I asked you a question.”

Raze stayed mute and utterly still, his strange eyes burning into me. My heart thumped. His immense wings quivered, then spread partially open so the light glistened on their onyx depths, illuminating the indigo and purple hidden within their darkness.

I didn’t know if Raze had some kind of hypnotic powers like a vampire or if it was only my overactive hormones. But my heart wasn’t pounding in fear. Or in that fangirl way it did around Trent. This was different. Like I was teetering on the edge of a dangerous precipice, except I didn’t know whether it was good or bad.

I had to get my head examined. After all, I didn’t think of Raze in that
way
. I thought of Trent, my boyfriend, in that way. Not Raze. Definitely not Raze.

“Are you mute?” I croaked out the question.

I hesitated in front of the door, unsure if I could trust him. Evans kept saying the immortals had fought honorably at our side during the lycan battle. Except Raze had slain Mark Corvalis—a hybrid-lycan—by chopping off his head. Granted, it was in self-defense, but he did it without a gleam of remorse. I shuddered at the memory. I’d witnessed the whole horrible thing go down.

“Shiloh,” he said formally.

I stepped closer to the railing. “Raze.”

“Can we talk? There’s some stuff that we need to discuss.” Raze’s gaze skimmed over me appraisingly, and a weird tremor charged through my body.

“Like what?” I asked, lifting the cord on my hood and biting it.

Raze treaded closer. “We need to talk about your role as the Thirteenth Daughter.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not that prophecy crap again.” I stopped chewing on the end of the hoodie string. “Can we make this little visit quick, please?”

“Fine. I’ll get right to the point. You have a destiny, Shiloh.”


Destiny?
” I jutted out a hip and spoke in my best snarky voice. “I’m not a big believer in destiny. People are always saying ‘it was fate’ when good or bad things happen to them. It’s such bull.”

“You don’t think you have a destiny?” Raze shook his finger at me, and his voice sounded low and rumbly. “Because I
do
believe in fate.”

I laughed. “Think carefully before you turn that into some cheesy pickup line, or I might go back inside and lock the door.”

“It’s true. Why not accept it?” His expression became serious. “Maybe helping save you is
my
destiny.”

“Then it’s too bad that I don’t need saving,” I said, wanting to go into the house and slam the door on his arrogant face.

“Wait.” He suddenly stood at the bottom of the porch steps. His black hair swept sideways across his forehead in an elegant mess and made him even more annoyingly attractive. The faint scent of vanilla and fresh baked cookies wafted from his skin. Must be an angel thing.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what? Move over here?” He tilted his head as if whispering an intimate secret. “I have super speed. One of the many perks of being an angel.”

“Except you’re not really one.”

“True. Not a purely
good
one at least. But I still have all the angelic benefits that come along with having a father who was a supernatural being.”

I inched back toward the front door. “So, are we done here?”

“Not even remotely.” He stepped closer to the porch. “We need to have a discussion about your afterschool job.”

“That’s none of your business,” I said and put a hand out. “And don’t come any closer or my magickal barrier will zap the shit out of you.”

“Me?” He chuckled. “I took on three demons last night and you think a simple thing like a protective ward will stop me?”

My cheeks colored. I seriously needed to study up on immortals. My gaze flicked to the door.

“If you knew why I came here tonight, would it make you feel any better?” Raze asked coolly.

I touched the doorknob. “Probably not.”

His head tilted, causing locks of dark hair to fall forward. “We don’t know very much about each other and I’d like to change that.”

Turning, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, I like things the way they are.”

Even with the tingling in the pit of my stomach, part of me—the sane, rational side—was telling me to end the conversation before I blurted something stupid. Another part—the curious and daring part—was frowning, and giving me a smack on the butt that urged me to stay and find out what Raze wanted.

He glanced toward the heavens with a sigh. “I happen to already know a few interesting things about you, Shiloh Trudell. Like, if the
Darkness
pollutes your blood any longer, you’re going to become a formidable ally for the side of evil.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but what was the point? The
Darkness
grew stronger each day and the evil power was eradicating my white magicks.

A lump the size of a grapefruit blocked my windpipe. I struggled to swallow it and keep my voice even. “Okay, well, thanks for the warning. I’ll just be going now—”

“Please stay.” He tipped his head to the side. “Part of the reason I stopped by was to warn you to stop hunting demons.”

I threw up my hands. “I can’t do that. I
won’t
, so save your breath.”

“Why are you so defensive?”

“I’m
not
. I just don’t trust you.”

His smile teased. “Not now, but you will. Haven’t I saved your life twice? Maybe you should consider leaving the demon hunting to more experienced witches. You’re only going to get yourself killed.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. “It’s
my
duty. And why do you care so much, anyway?”

He frowned. “Quit your afterschool job. It’s too dangerous right now.”

Maybe I was only being paranoid, but somehow his demand sounded more like a threat. “Like that’s ever gonna happen. So you can stop worrying and go home.”

Raze grunted low in his throat and shoved his hands under his arms. “You’re so naive.”

“About what?”

“Everything!” His face reddened and he balled up his fists. “There’s so much you still don’t understand, but I’ll fill you in once I get more intel. For now, I wouldn’t trust the cambion.”

I put a hand on my hip. “You mean, Trent? My
boyfriend?

“He’s Esael’s son. The offspring of the most powerful demon since Satan,” he said. “And you’re not ready to handle Upper Level demons like Caym.”

“Oh, really? Then how did I, a naive, inexperienced witch, vanquish Esael?”


You
didn’t. It took you and an entire coven to kill him.” He rocked on his heels and softened his voice. “Didn’t you ever stop to wonder why the demons never try to kill the cambion?”

“His name is Trent.
Not
the cambion.”

“Whatever. Demon Boy has a destiny, too. However, it’s not with you, Shiloh. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe you. We care about each other. A lot,” I said, lifting my chin. “What would you know about true love?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” His eyes flashed with annoyance. “You’re sixteen and Demon Boy is only seventeen. You’re too young to have the faintest idea of what real love is.”

Warmth burned my face. “And you do, I suppose?”

“Not in the romantic sense. But aren’t you supposed to hunt evil—not make out with it?”

I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. “Aren’t you being a tad dramatic?”

“Do you even know anything about his heritage?” he asked. “Who the cambion truly is?”

I shrugged, my damp hair clinging to my cheek. “You mean that leader of the Underworld nonsense?”

The corners of his mouth drooped. “I’m not talking about his birthright, but legions of demons roaming the Earth.”

The ground seemed to sway under my feet. “I don’t understand. I mean, I know who his father was, and that Trent is battling some heavy inner-demons of his own—”

“Why not end things with Demon Boy now?” His eyes went hard and flinty. “White witches and cambions cannot be lovers. There’s no future with him. Ask your mother, she’ll tell you the same thing. Just vanquish him before he can take the throne.”

My jaw tensed. “Are you seriously telling me to murder my boyfriend?”

“You’d be doing him a favor. All of us. Then you could move on with someone better suited for you…” Raze paused and stared into my eyes.

“And that would be
you
?” I scoffed. “How old are you, anyway? Like a thousand?”

“I’m nineteen years old.”

“No, seriously. How old are you? Is aging different for angels than it is for humans?”

“I’m only nineteen, and I’m
not
a pure angel—I have a human mother. My father was an immortal and the Forsaken’s exiled leader. Now that he’s dead, I have to take his place,” he said flatly. “Once I reach twenty-five or so, I’ll stop aging.”

“Another crossbreed,” I mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“You and Trent are both half-breeds. Ironic, actually.”

“Why is it ironic?”

“Just is. It seems you’re both stubborn as all hell, too.”

His gaze darkened. “I am
nothing
like that cambion.”

“And like Trent, you seem a lot more grownup than ordinary guys.”

“Please stop comparing me to Demon Boy!” he snarled.

I smiled. “Touchy.”

Raze grinned impishly. “In fact, I
do
like touching and kissing and fondling—”

“You should try flirting with someone who doesn’t already have a boyfriend, Casanova. I’m one hundred percent devoted to Trent.”

“For now.” He leaned back and narrowed his eyes. “You have to stop hunting.”

My defenses shot back up. I did not like being told what to do.
Case closed.

I tugged on the string of my hoodie. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

One dark eyebrow arched. “You should. Because things are about to change. The stakes are higher this time. You’re not just dealing with wraiths, or one demon, or a group of teenage lycans.” He sighed heavily. “Are you prepared to go to war with Demon Boy once he becomes the prince?”

“That’s
never
gonna happen. And I have friends to help me if I need them.”

He shook his head. “Shiloh, let’s stay in reality, shall we? How long have you been practicing the Craft? A few months? A year? You couldn’t stop Esael on your own or fight off the lycans. Both times, you had help. First the Blood Rose Circle assisted, and then Malphas and I with the wolves. You’re not strong enough yet. Lucky for you, I can help with that.” Raze reached out to me. “Join my side.”

“Why the hell would I do that? I’m not even sure whose side you’re on!”

“The only one that matters. And I’d be willing to bet you constantly feel the allure of the
Darkness.
Its power is very seductive. You gave in to it during our fight with the demon triad.”

My pulse jumped. Raze was right. Even now, I could sense its malevolent influence—the need to surrender to those darker urges. Like a drug addict needing another hit.

“How do you know that?”

“I could sense the
Darkness
tainting your aura. The fact that you’ve kept it contained this long is amazing.”

“It’s my white magick,” I said. “It helps keep the
Darkness
from overtaking me.”

He nodded. “Another reason not to go hunting. Demons can sniff you out with that demonic power churning within you. Makes you an easy target.” Raze shook his head. “I mean it. Don’t patrol anymore.”

“We’re done.” I put my hand on the doorknob.

“Wait! I have a gift for you,” Raze said.

I turned back around. “No thanks. Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. So beat it.”

He pulled something out of his pocket. “Oh, I think you’ll change your mind.”

Before I could move or blink an eye, Raze hunched on his heels, a vial in his hand, and jumped onto the porch. The blue lines of the wards quivered.

“Take it,” he said, forcing the vial into my hands.

I pushed him away. “Are you deaf? I said no—”

“But I insist.”

Raze cradled my head with a devilish smirk and forced the vial between my parted lips. The red liquid tasted like pure sunshine and fresh oranges, bursting on my tongue. Warmth spread throughout my limbs. My legs buckled, and he held me upright. I sagged against him and my body shuddered.

His grip loosened. “I just changed your destiny, Shiloh Trudell…for better or worse.”

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