Demon Blessed Read online

  Demon Blessed

  By

  Nikki Sex

  Copyright 2016 by Nikki Sex

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited. This book 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. All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  To my very good friend, Gail Higgins, who was there from the start and went well above and beyond! Gail read every chapter of Demon Blessed, offering suggestions as I wrote it. Then she re-read the whole book several times. Thank you, Gail. I had my doubts about this genre, but your daily, ongoing enthusiasm kept me writing.

  All my love and thanks to Larry, Mike, Nancy, and Sophie—you guys helped make this a better story.

  Table of Contents

  Demon Blessed

  Prologue

  Chapter 1. I Love Buses

  Chapter 2. Of Vices and Virtues

  Chapter 3. Hey, Baby

  Chapter 4. Pain is Inevitable. Suffering is Optional.

  Chapter 5. Late

  Chapter 6. Janice St. John

  Chapter 7. Why I love my Boss

  Chapter 8. The Clients

  Chapter 9. Ride ‘em, Cowgirl

  Chapter 10. Ride ‘em, Cowboy

  Chapter 11. Demon Dinnertime

  Chapter 12. When is a Ghost Not a Ghost?

  Chapter 13. Resisting Temptation

  Chapter 14. Lust and Adrenaline

  Chapter 15. Demon Magic

  Chapter 16. Still Not Normal

  Chapter 17. Owen

  Chapter 18. Raven

  Chapter 19. Hope

  Chapter 20. Secrets

  Chapter 21. Bon Voyage

  Chapter 22. Once in a Lifetime

  Chapter 23. Enchantment

  Chapter 24. Magic Kingdom

  Chapter 25. Spukani Lodge

  Chapter 26. Demons and Devils

  Chapter 27. One Damned Thing After Another

  Chapter 28. Out of the Frying Pan

  Chapter 29. Into The Fire

  Chapter 30. One Little Mistake

  Chapter 31. History

  Chapter 32. The Problem with Werewolves

  Chapter 33. Moonstruck

  Chapter 34. Giving in to Temptation

  Chapter 35. Animal Rutting

  Chapter 36. Wolf Magic

  Chapter 37. Waiting for The Other Shoe to Drop.

  Chapter 38. Now and Forever

  Chapter 39. Entrapped

  Chapter 40. Making Scents

  Chapter 41. Conversations with a Wolf

  Chapter 42. Seer

  Chapter 43. Full Moon

  Chapter 44. Romance

  Chapter 45. Goth Girl

  Chapter 46. Long Claw

  Chapter 47. Contest

  Chapter 48. Fight

  Chapter 49. Uh-oh

  Chapter 50. Back to Normal

  Chapter 51. Detective Joseph

  Chapter 52. Horror

  Chapter 53. Demon Magic

  Chapter 54. Untangling

  Chapter 55. What Happened?

  Chapter 56. Double Trouble

  Chapter 57. Addicted

  Chapter 58. Charmed

  Chapter 59. Mate Magic

  Chapter 60. True Magic

  Chapter 61. What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

  Chapter 62. Scaring the Mice

  Chapter 63. A Rock and a Hard Place

  Chapter 64. Peas in a Pod

  Chapter 65. OMFG

  Chapter 66. Demon Hunting

  Chapter 67. Less than Zero

  Chapter 68. Demon Seeking

  Chapter 69. Demon Close

  Chapter 70. Demon Caught

  Chapter 71. Demon Killed

  Chapter 72. At Home with an Assassin

  Chapter 73. The Daily Grind

  Chapter 74. Jugulo

  Chapter 75. What Doesn’t Kill Me…

  Chapter 76. Change of Heart

  Chapter 77. Fortress

  Chapter 78. Adjustments

  Chapter 79. Tactics

  Chapter 80. Beast Lord

  Chapter 81. Trying not to Lie

  Chapter 82. Revelations

  Epilogue

  Demon Blessed

  I adore humans.

  I wish I still was one.

  Oddly, humans never seem to appreciate how lucky they are. Despite the incredible adventures I’ve had, I’d give it up in a heartbeat for the chance to fall in love, get married, have children, and grow old.

  What’s my story? Well, two important events occurred on June 15, 1815. Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo, and I was born in a small town near Devon, England.

  I was christened Agnes Betsy Longbottom, but I’ve altered my identity countless times since then. Agnes Longbottom!

  As I’m sure you can appreciate, dumping that name was no hardship.

  I’ve traveled all over the world, typically moving on when it was time to reinvent myself. I’ve changed my residence, my country, my friends, my lovers…but nothing really changes.

  I’m still me…mostly.

  Humans are strange, fascinating creatures. One moment they rage at their childhood, their upbringing, and how completely they’ve managed to screw up their lives. The next minute a song stirs a memory and they’re overcome with joy—or they weep because the smell of lilacs reminds them of a loved one who passed away.

  Humans. Each uniquely dissimilar, yet all utterly alike.

  I’m over two-hundred years old, yet physically I appear to be in my early twenties. I don’t get sick, I can’t get pregnant, and if circumstances are right, I heal quickly.

  If circumstances are wrong, I suffer the same as anyone else.

  I last resided in Jackson, Florida, but now I’m enjoying the vibrant atmosphere of Vancouver, British Columbia, on the west coast of Canada. I’ve lived here for three years in a penthouse apartment overlooking Stanley Park. It’s a thirty-minute walk or a fifteen-minute bus ride to work. My current job as a psychic is a hoot. To my delight, I can mostly be myself with the people I work with.

  I hope I can stay in Vancouver for a long, long time.

  The best thing about me is I appear absolutely ordinary. I’m five-four, the average height for a woman. I have brown hair and brown eyes—not dark brown, not honey brown—nondescript, like the rest of me.

  Angels, demons, necromancers, shapeshifters, wereanimals, vampires, sorcerers, witches…to supernaturals, I register as human. They don’t notice me, but I’m well aware of them.

  Everyone pays me as much attention as the speed limit—which is to say, none at all. Why am I so pleased to be unremarkable?

  Because I’m not normal.

  I see things others don’t, such as ghosts. I sense everything supernatural.

  I like people, but I can’t allow anyone to know the real me. Why? Because I’ve got big secrets. I can’t trust anyone, particularly paranormal creatures.

  With my bizarre powers, I don’t even trust myself.

  I’m too damned dangerous.

  Sensing otherworldly energy is pretty helpful for keeping out of trouble—except for this week when I screwed up royally. This week I violated my own rules for survival. Consequently, I nearly died when everything went horribly wrong.

  On the other hand, I wouldn’t change a thing. But hey, I’m getting ahead of myself.

  Perhaps it’s best if I start at the beginning…

  Prologue

  “License my roving hands, and let them go,

  Before, behind, between, above, below.”

  — John Donne

  Two-hundred years ago…


  It’s 5:00 in the morning when I begin my long walk to Lang Park, the stately manor where I work six days a week as a housemaid. The air is cold, I can see my breath, but my thoughts focus on my mother.

  After my father passed away six years ago, my mamma began to dabble in the black arts. If I’m not careful, they’ll lock her up in Bedlam. But how can I work twelve hours a day and also supervise her?

  Every week for months, she uses leeches to take my blood. I let her do this to make her happy. Quietly mad, mother is ineffective at every task. Her incompetence is a blessing. Where would I be if she were accomplished in the devil’s work?

  Sighing, I push my fears away and increase my pace.

  My thoughts immediately slip to more favorable subjects. Yesterday, I read John Donne’s poetry until the early hours. His verses are wicked!

  Beneath my bedclothes, I secretly touch myself, while I picture Lord Cecil Ravensthorpe making love to me on our wedding night. Last night I did so until stars burst in on me, ending my worries and soothing my tumultuous thoughts.

  Do other young women do this?

  Lord Cecil follows me around as I complete my chores. He’s nineteen, two years older than I am. A fine figure of a man, he’s so handsome on his chestnut stallion, Emperor. His lordship has promised me marriage, but will his family permit such a match?

  As Lord Ravensthorpe’s parents have gone to London today, and his brothers are at Eton, I anticipate his constant attention.

  I shiver, but not from the brisk morning fog. His devotion is delicious. I’ve only recently allowed him to press his lips to mine. Why shouldn’t I take joy where I may?

  A kiss is only a kiss. As long as we’re not discovered, there’s no harm.

  I’m a strong person. I know my own mind. No matter what his lordship vows, I’ll never allow him to go further. I’m not foolish. Society decrees my value rests in my virginity. Why would I throw such a treasure away?

  Working with another maid, we quickly get through our duties by mid-morning. The rest of our chores we each will work alone. Millie and I pass through the hall together on the way to the kitchen. That’s when I see him casually lounging against a doorway.

  My chest tightens, my breath catches. Like a dark-haired angel, his lips curve in a boyish, crooked smile.

  Millie and I offer quick, awkward curtsies. “My Lord,” we chorus the same greeting.

  Lord Cecil straightens, towering above us. Leisurely, like a king to his subjects, he nods.

  My whole body warms while arousal makes my face heat. His smile broadens as he notices the flush in my cheeks. We both know he’ll come to me later, he’ll hold me later…he’ll kiss me later.

  When I return to work, his lordship joins me as I complete my household tasks. Charming and ardent, from time to time we “accidentally” touch.

  Once we are alone in the upstairs rooms, anticipation tightens things low in my body. Lord Cecil tries to kiss me, but I refuse him.

  I won’t be distracted.

  I have work to do.

  Giving up, he pulls a collection of Byron’s poetry from his coat pocket. As he reads, “She Walks in Beauty,” I put clean sheets on a bed.

  When he finishes the poem, he raises a questioning brow. “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Delightful, your lordship.”

  “You know my name.” Irritated, he strides toward me. “Use it! Are we not engaged?”

  My heart pounds in my chest as I regard him through my lashes. Oh, he’s beautiful, and he knows it. Tall and broad-shouldered, dark haired, with arrogant sapphire eyes.

  “You walk in beauty,” he says huskily, pulling me into his arms. Embarrassed by his compliment, I put a hand to his chest to hold him back.

  “Thank you,” I say, even though I’m plain, and I know it.

  I breathe in the clean, masculine scent of him—he’s such a temptation. It’s a risk to be alone together, but I can handle him. His lips brush across my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

  Then, he kisses me.

  His lips are delicious. We kiss for some time, his hands moving over my back and shoulders. This is the most I’ve ever allowed—the most I’ve ever risked. His breathing becomes ragged. I ache with temptation.

  I pull away. “We can go no further,” I tell him sternly.

  His eyes are dark with desire. “Are you afraid? Trust me. It will be wonderful.”

  My lips compress, my gaze narrows. “Not until we are married.”

  This is a common argument. As usual, I refuse to give in. Tilting his head, his crooked half-smile makes my heart stop.

  “But may I still kiss you?” His gaze focuses hungrily on my mouth.

  I nod. “Yes, we can kiss.”

  Lord Cecil pulls me into his arms again, pressing his lips to mine. Surrounded by his scent, wrapped in his embrace, I’m shocked when I feel the hardness of his passion. Having his body against mine feels heavenly.

  I should stop him, and I shall…soon.

  I’m so in love. I’ve adored this man for years. Why can’t we become husband and wife?

  Then…it happens.

  What?

  I don’t know.

  Something unearthly touches me—something other. Intense pleasure pulses through my body in a heated rush. Frightened, I gasp.

  I’ve never felt anything like it.

  My lord presses his lips to my neck as darkness whispers across the edges of my consciousness, promising things I could never imagine. The sensual feel of his mouth on my skin makes me sigh.

  Lord Cecil’s embrace tightens. His breathing speeds into an incomprehensible roar!

  A roar?

  Fear inches up my spine, my heart thuds in my throat. The wind! I hear it—I feel it—but it can’t be real.

  The storm in my mind screams with dark joy. Hot gusts of air beat against my body—pounding against me as though knocking on a door.

  Like my lord’s manhood, it wants in.

  Passion overpowers me—I’m losing control. Have I been bewitched? This firestorm of confusion and panic only seems to stir my lust to new heights.

  Unbearable tension combines with tremors of fear, and anticipation. This expectant moment is about to give birth—to what?

  Something is coming.

  My vision abruptly shifts. For an impossible moment, I clearly see my mother standing around a fire with three others: The blind beggar, the village idiot and her “friend,” Mrs. Baxter. The widow Baxter is a nasty woman—her tongue cuts deeper than the sharpest blade.

  This isn’t real. It can’t be.

  I smell wood burning. Outside of myself, like a bird, I watch from high above. A bonfire blazes below me, crackling, throwing heat. Despite the noise of branches burning, I distinctly hear the low chant of four voices.

  They sound like witches. Are they summoning something?

  Nearby, my mother holds a bowl of leeches. This morning before I left home, five of them were bloated with my blood. Only four leeches remain.

  Where is the fifth?

  I have my answer as Mamma flings a leech into the fire. The moment the creature enters the flames, power flows over me. I gasp with pleasure. Lord Cecil sucks my lip into his mouth, he bites so hard he nearly draws blood.

  Mmm…blood! I ache for it!

  It’s such an odd thought, yet the urgent desire fills my mind. “Yes,” I murmur, a needy sigh.

  Intense sensation rips through me. Unable to keep still, I strain toward his lordship, defenseless against such raw longing.

  Encouraged by my response, Lord Cecil opens the laces of my bodice. Rough fingers brush against my sensitive nipples—his flesh to my flesh.

  With his first touch of my breast, another leech falls into the fire. I convulse as power fires my veins. I should be panicked, but all I feel is need.

  This is wrong.

  “Lord, save me,” I gasp, in a strangled whisper.

  “We’re not stopping now.” His lordship’s commanding voice echoes in my mind.
Unexpected hunger grips me, a terrible hunger.

  The world changes.

  I’m transported. I no longer see my mother, her friends, and the fire. I’m back within myself. My knees buckle completely—Lord Cecil’s grip on my arms is bruising.

  Jaw tight with lust, he swings me up onto the bed, then crawls on top of me. His weight presses my body into the mattress. Otherworldly energy adds to my excitement. He intends to go further.

  I need to stop this!

  Why can’t I stop him?

  Lord Cecil’s mouth is upon my bare breast. He sucks my nipple with strong, devastating tugs. Each sensual pull makes my sex tighten and clench.

  Another leech falls into the fire. In my mind, I see it burn in bright blue light. Why does it feel as though I’m going up in flames?

  At that exact moment, my lord’s hand burrows between my legs, stroking moist folds. Removing my underclothes, he caresses me on the exact place I touched myself last night.

  I cry out as I release in a spine-tingling climax. Mindless, insensible, I burn in carnal bliss.

  The dark wind is back, knocking, knocking against me—it still wants in.

  “Don’t hurt me,” I murmur, but I don’t mean it.

  I need pain. Pain is life.

  What is happening to me? First I want blood, then I want pain. For a moment, I wonder where these crazy urges come from, but then I’m swept away again, lost in sensation.

  My hands grasp his shoulders as I hold on for dear life. I don’t want him to stop. I don’t think I can stop.

  Whatever’s happening, I must see it through to the end.

  Preparing to mount me, my lord spreads my legs wide with his hips. His hard, hot manhood presses against my feminine entrance.

  No. I don’t want to lose my virginity! Not until I’m married.

  Oh, but I do.

  Helpless with raw, animal need, I make no attempt to stop him. I surrender to Lord Cecil, for I have no will to resist.

  His hands are everywhere as he selfishly takes, takes, takes what he wants. He has no thought of me at all. Why don’t I care?

  Somehow, I have dual vision. I’m here, but I am also there. I watch as the final leech is flung into the fire, but the last leech doesn’t simply burn—it explodes!

  The blaze flares into an inferno, bursting outward, consuming everything in its path.