Ars arabia, p.1
Knight's Retribution (Knights of Hell #6), page 1
Knight’s Retribution
Knights of Hell, Book 6
Sherilee Gray
Copyright © 2021 by Sherilee Gray
Editor: Karen Grove
Proofreading:
Judy’s Proofreading
Shelley Charlton
Cover Design by Cover Couture
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All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Knight’s Retribution - Sherilee Gray - 1st ed
ISBN:
Epub: 978-0-473-56311-0
Kindle: 978-0-473-56312-7
Print: 978-0-473-56310-3
Contents
About
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
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Sherilee Gray
About
Rocco thought he knew pain and sacrifice...until demons dragged his female to the depths of Hell. Knowing he failed to protect her - and that her fate is in the hands of pure evil - is driving him to madness. With time running out, he'll do anything to bring her home; even embrace the unrelenting inner darkness he's fought his entire life.
Each day Kyler prays for death but there is no mercy in Hell. Lucifer's twisted son Diemos controls her every waking hour, waiting for her dormant powers to finally unleash so he can use them himself. Sweet dreams of Rocco are her only escape - but only in her wildest fantasies did she imagine him walking through the fires of Hell to save her.
Now Diemos will stop at nothing to get Kyler back. A brutal war is coming, and to survive, everyone will have to fight. Win or die - there is no second chance for the Knights and their mates.
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Chapter 1
A wave of sandalwood and leather washed over Rocco as he followed Willow through the new demon neighborhood—though it looked more like some post-apocalyptic battleground than a place suited for habitation. A demon hissed at them, and Rocco gripped the hilt of his sword as he and the witch passed.
Hell’s escapees now occupied the dilapidated buildings once slated for demolition. The demons had congregated here a few months ago after a mass exodus from other parts of Roxburgh—right after a hoard of the fuckers had attacked the knights’ compound.
They’d failed, and the fallen angel who’d ordered them to attack had paid with his life—via the removal of his head.
The demons in the city had been on edge since then, and Rocco couldn’t blame them. Their numbers had been depleted, fucking annihilated that day, and not just by Rocco and his brothers, the Knights of Hell. Yeah, they’d been at the battle, but by the time they’d reached the compound, his brothers’ mates, along with the other demi-demons staying there—half demon, half humans that the knights rescued and trained—had taken most of them out.
The prey had turned on the predator, and the demons were still shaken by the show of strength from the demi in this city.
Rocco guessed the demons were going for the whole safety-in-numbers thing here. He was sure it helped that they now followed a demon named Vorena. She was old as dirt and seriously powerful, and her offer of protection had been accepted.
The knights had known of Vorena’s existence since she sought sanctuary a really fucking long time ago. Not all demons were created equal, some weren’t driven to cause havoc and pain, those were the demons who usually wanted to escape Hell, who sought sanctuary here. If they were willing to leave humans alone, to keep to themselves, they were granted it. She’d never stepped out of line, not once since she’d been there.
So his brother Chaos had swooped in and made a deal with her as soon as they’d discovered where Roxburgh’s demon population had fled. She was to keep her followers in line or the knights would move in and clean house.
The only reason they hadn’t already was that so far the demons were following the rules set down by the knights, and killing indiscriminately wasn’t their MO. There were rules the demons had to live by, and rules the knights had always lived by. And Chaos was a stickler for the rules.
Rocco did not give that first fuck about any of it.
He’d crossed so many lines lately, and he’d keep crossing them until he got what he wanted.
As Rocco trailed Willow down the street, some of the demons sent wary glances his way, some scuttling away in fear, some gathering, watching, and still others posturing and hissing. He ignored them all. He had to. The control he was hanging on to was so thin it was close to snapping.
Behaving like a semi-normal, mentally balanced being when he hadn’t been that since he’d lost Kyler—when he’d been walking the razor’s edge of sanity for so long wasn’t fucking easy. If he let even a little of that rage inside him free now, there would be no pulling it back.
He was here for one reason and one reason only—to get his female back.
“This way,” Willow said, taking the steps to the front door of an old apartment building.
Since the battle at the compound, Willow had changed, hell, she was barely recognizable. It’d been one of her protection spells warding the compound when it was attacked, and she still blamed herself for the breach. There was no fucking way she was at fault. She’d been tortured, forced to break the ward, and was close to death when the knights arrived. But nothing they said would convince her otherwise.
The experience had seriously affected her. Smiles and laughter had always come easily and often—not anymore. Gone were the long skirts with jingly bells, the bright colors she’d always worn. Now she favored black, usually jeans and a T-shirt, and a leather jacket that was more for protection in a fight than a fashion choice.
Another thing that was new was the enchanted blade sheathed at her hip. Its power warned her of imminent danger, and she’d gained the ability to use it thanks to extensive and single-minded training, and probably some magic thrown in there as well. Rocco had no idea where the blade came from or how she got hold of it, but in Willow’s hands it was lethal.
She’d done everything she could to make sure that what happened that day would never ever happen again—not to her, or to the people under the protection of her wards.
He glanced at Willow. “We going in?”
“Not yet."
Rocco looked down as darkness, thick and oily, seeped out from below the door like an evil mist, sending out feelers. “What the fuck is that?”
“It senses intruders, but we’re expected,” she said.
“And if we weren’t?”
Willow glanced at him. “You don’t want to know.”
The thick, dark mist gathered around their boots, coiling like a serpent. Tiny pinpricks stabbed at him, sending waves of pain. “What the—?” Rocco kicked at it as his inner demon hissed in rage.
“Stay still,” Willow said without turning back. “Vorena’s tasting our intentions.”
“She’s what?” Rocco stood still, forcing himself not to pull away as the stabs to his feet and lower legs grew in intensity. “Not loving the sound of that.”
“She’s ancient, and extremely powerful. Not just anyone is permitted an audience with her. We could mean her harm.”
Most full-blooded demons were faithless, disloyal, greedy, and selfish by nature. They didn’t trust anyone, not even their own kind. “Got it. Will I have any fucking feet left by the end of it?”
“Yes,” she said as the loud click of the lock disengaging reached them a moment before the door swung open.
They’d obviously passed the demon’s test.
Rocco followed Willow into the building.
Fucking hell.
The place had been given an unholy makeover, and Rocco’s inner demon twisted and clawed, trying to get him to shift. He let the darkness seep close to the surface, something he’d been doing more and more lately. Letting that part of him soak into his bones, his mind, allowing his demon instincts to lead the way while still maintaining control. It was a balancing act, but that part of him wanted the same thing that Rocco did—Kyler back with them.
Somehow, he and his demon had
The interior of the room was slick with shiny black and green mold. Carcasses, but not human, lay in misshapen lumps on the floor, some fresh, some oozing and crawling with maggots, and some empty husks covered in the same slimy moss.
“Offerings,” Willow said, nodding toward one of them. “Vorena is part Ibwa, but she obviously doesn’t eat humans. She prefers demon or animal.”
“So she’s a cannibal?” Ibwa liked to chow down on the flesh of the dead.
Willow nodded as she stepped over another rotting lump. “Among demons, she’s known as the executioner.”
“Jesus.”
“Basically, if you fuck her over, she’ll eat you.”
A noise came from the right, and Rocco spun his sword slowly. “Sounds like a good deterrent to not fuck her over. Why the hell would any demon want to hang out here?”
“I’m not sure she gave them much choice.”
But she toed the line, and so far, she followed the knights’ rules. She sure as fuck didn’t want to go back to Hell. Here she had power. Here she had her demon following, and she knew the knights could take it all away, if she fucked up.
It worked for the knights. For now, the rogue demons were under her control and attacks on humans in the city had dropped lower than ever before.
“This way, she’s upstairs.” Willow had taken only the first two steps when a demon shrieked and rushed down the algae-covered stairs toward her.
“We’re Vorena’s guests,” Willow said, voice hard.
The demon didn’t stop.
Rocco hooked her around the waist to pull her out of the way, but her blade was already whistling through the air. It planted itself in the demon’s forehead, and the fucker dropped like a sack of rocks, flailing on the floor.
“Nice aim,” he said.
She scowled at the demon, alive but incapacitated with the blade buried in its cranium. “I warned him.”
The witch was fast, a natural fighter. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her use that blade. It was like she was born to do it, but he still had trouble reconciling this female with the soft, breezy witch she’d been mere months ago.
“Was he one of Vorena’s guards? Won’t she be pissed?”
Willow reached out her hand, fingers extended. The blade wiggled, dislodging itself, then flew free, the hilt hitting her palm a split second later. “The power of the blade scrambles their brains, but it’s temporary. He’ll be fine in a few hours.”
Like fuck he would. Rocco approached, fisted the demon’s hair and wrenched his head back, exposing its neck, ready to remove it.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you. You don’t want Vorena as an enemy, and Chaos wouldn’t thank you for it.” She nudged the demon with her boot. “He’s more than likely one of her lovers. They work in shifts.”
“Shifts? How many does she have?” Rocco asked, shoving the demon out of the way so they could carry on up the stairs.
“I’m not sure, but she’s also part sex demon. I don’t know what kind, but she’s insatiable and extremely possessive, though she will eat them if they displease her.” Willow gave him a once-over and sniffed. “You smell like hound. But you need to pull your demon back. If I can sense it, she definitely will. If she knows you’re half demon, you’re fair game. She won’t let you leave without a fight.” Willow had given him some hellhound’s clothes to disguise his scent. They smelled several days past wash day, and Vorena would probably pass the fuck out from the stench before she got the chance to sense he was a demon. But yeah, if she knew he was a knight, she wouldn’t give them what they’d come for.
He didn’t even have to try to leash his inner demon; it recoiled all on its own, until he could have sworn it’d left him completely. And shockingly, Rocco didn’t like the feeling one fucking bit.
They reached the top of the stairs and walked to a set of double doors. They were slick with more of the sludge, the mold thicker around the edge and across the floor, squelching under their boots.
“Let me do all talking,” Willow said. “Males are for fucking and eating. If you speak out of turn, she’ll find a use for you, demon or not. And don’t make direct eye contact; she’ll see it as a challenge. You do not want to draw her attention.”
“Got it.” Rocco would do whatever Willow said if this demon had the answers he’d come for. “Do we have our offering?”
Willow patted the satchel slung across her front.
“Now what? We knock?”
Her hand caught his before his fist could connect with the slimy-as-fuck door, and she pushed it away. “We wait.”
Wait? Rocco was done waiting. He wanted to go after his female, he wanted Kyler. The summer solstice was less than a week away, and the humm of the portal waking, slowly coming to life, called to him, called to his demon, trying to lure that part of him home.
He’d resisted it his entire life.
But not this time.
When the portal opened again, he was going to give his demon exactly what it wanted. But to do that, he needed what the demon behind this door had.
Minutes stretched out, and Rocco struggled to stand still. He wanted to kick the motherfucking doors open and demand the evil bitch give him what he’d come for. But he had to follow Willow’s lead on this. She’d been here before and knew how to play this.
The only reason the demons hadn’t attacked on the way here was because Vorena had given them safe passage—and they didn’t know he was a knight. It wasn’t like they’d recognize him. He sure as hell didn’t look the same—he was close to a hundred pounds lighter and gone were the piercings and the blue hair. And any demons he’d interrogated, desperately trying to get information about his female, he’d killed afterward, so it wasn’t like they could tell anyone who he was.
The door rattled, then with a groan, swung open.
“Remember, stay behind me, gaze down,” Willow said and stepped inside.
It went against every instinct he had, letting Willow go ahead of him. He protected, he didn’t stand back and let someone else do it. Not that he’d done a lot of protecting lately, just a lot of killing and torturing.
He followed her in and a wave of heat hit him, along with the scent of rot and mold and demon sex. The pungent combination caught in the back of his throat and made his eyes water.
The room was dimly lit, and he could sense several other demons there as well. He glanced up through his lashes. Ahead of them was a raised dais that was almost completely covered in mattresses and draped in a multitude of different-colored fabrics.
Repetitive wet noises and moans reached him, and against his better judgement, he looked.
Shit.
Vorena lay on her back, on top of a demon, cushions covering the demon’s face and propping her up. He pumped his hips under her, while another demon kneeled between their spread legs, both cocks filling her.
She was so pale Rocco could see every vein under her ancient skin. Slimy green moss had gathered in the creases of her joints, and her long, clawed fingers pinched at her flesh-colored nipples. Her eyes were the same black/green as the moss on her skin, and they glittered, shiny like wet crystal.
The demon kneeling in front of her looked ready to pass the fuck out, his skin soaked with sweat. Her gaze moved to Rocco and Willow, and one of her hands slid down her stomach and between her legs where she started rubbing, then she threw her head back and groaned, a low, odd sound that resonated through the room and lifted the hair on the back of Rocco’s neck.
“Fill me with your seed,” she snarled at her lovers.
