Fire with Fire (Demonblood Book 2)

By: Penelope King

Prologue





It’s cliché to say it’s always darkest before the dawn, but in my case it’s true. There is a brief window of time, just before I wake, when I am not Me, and she is not Her. We are together as one, unified in our blissful state of unconsciousness.

Sometimes this sleep lasts for a few seconds; other times, a few hours. It is during this time that we exist in harmony, slumbering away our fears, hostilities, our mutual disdain and resentment of each other. It is during this time that we have a few fleeting moments of peace. Because for more than five years, it has been only during this time that we are together as we should be. As we were meant to be.

It is also during this time that we can dream of him…remember the way he held us, kissed us, looked into our eyes and filled us with such love.

The memory of loving and being loved by Kieron is the one thing she and I now share, along with the unbearable pain we’ve silently suffered since he’s been gone.

Now, we also share the soul-crushing fear that he’s never coming back to us.

…And we are more damned than ever.





Chapter 1. Lucky





I don’t know what it is about strip clubs that seems to draw the nastiest types of demons, but for some reason they’re attracted like stink on fish. To be honest, I’m not sure which is worse—the soul sucking Lazerines who work these places, or the scummy human men who frequent them. I swear, if one more grubby Sapie asks me for a lap dance I’m going to rip his thing right off.

“Hey, sexy, want some company?” asks a middle-aged Sapie wearing a rumpled business suit. Apparently my disgusted glare isn’t enough to dissuade him as he moves to the empty chair beside me and, without waiting for my reply, begins to sit down.

I roll my eyes and swish my hand, causing the chair to fly out from beneath him. He falls hard on his backside, spilling his overpriced cocktail all over his cheap suit. A few patrons glance in our direction, but quickly return their gazes to the center of the room. They are far more interested in the scantily clad girls moving seductively on the raised stage beneath the pulsating lights than some clumsy drunken fool.

The cheesy voice of the club DJ rings out over the loudspeakers. “And now get those dollar bills ready and help us welcome the very lovely Serenity to the stage.”

Hoots and catcalls sound as a slender brunette wearing a miniscule skirt and bikini top sashays out from behind the thick velvet curtain. She begins her seductive routine, rolling her hips, swishing her hair, and spinning herself around a tall, metal pole. As she bends backward, letting her long hair fall free, I catch the distinctive markings on her back under the flash of the strobe lights.

To anyone else they look like tattoos, but I know better. They are the Mark of the Lazerine… powerful female demons who control men’s minds through lust and desire. Only the Prince of Darkness knows how many countless Sapies have lost their house payments and kid’s college funds under their spell. Not like I care about that, but Lazerines are loathsome creatures who are particularly satisfying to kill. And right now I could definitely use some satisfaction.

I take a few sips of my Jack Daniels and stand up, careful not to trip over Mr. Mid-Life Crisis struggling to get off the floor. As I make my way to the stage, I retrieve a fistful of bills from my inside my bra. Lazerines are addicted to money and use their powers to drain their victims dry. The money will keep her distracted. Otherwise she might realize that I’m a demon, and I am so not interested in a public brouhaha tonight. I’ll kill her clean and easy, in the VIP room where there are no witnesses. None who will be paying any attention to me, that is.

The room of men turn to gawk as soon as I start laying dollars down on the stage, their faces aglow with carnal pleasure. Of course they love it…this is their best fantasy right here. I’m by far the most beautiful girl they’ve ever seen, and Sapie men are such suckers for a little girl-on-girl action.

I wonder if they’d still be so turned on if they knew I was planning to rip her heart out in a few minutes.

“Hi, beautiful,” the Lazerine purrs in my ear as I lay down a row of five-dollar bills in front of her.

“Can I get a VIP dance with you when you’re done?” I ask as she rubs her face against my cheek in appreciation.

“I’d love to. It starts at one hundred dollars.” She reaches for the money and slips it into the side of her tiny pink G-string.

“Not a problem.” I flash another thick stack of bills under her nose. Her eyes glow brightly before giving way to a smug smile.

“I’ll be right back, darling.” She collects the rest of her tips before prancing off the stage.

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