Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2) by Eliza Hendrix (best motivational books to read TXT) 📗

He is one of the good guys, isn’t he?

“What are we supposed to do?” someone asks.

An eerie silence fills the room, and every breath taken sounds like a gasp in contrast.

“Devania is looking into this,” the dwarf says, “but until she discovers who is behind all of this, she will remain in hiding.”

I lean toward Ace. “What did I miss?”

With wide eyes locked on the fat dwarf at the front, he says, “Zerachu’s being held captive somewhere, and no one knows where. The spell that was cast inside the Dark Hall was a form of blood magic. Her blood. Even the Council of Elders can’t figure this one out. But it wasn’t Zerachu who cast it, which doesn’t make much sense.”

Rachel smiles up at me, looking a bit goofy amid the gloom and panic in the room. Thankfully, Ace doesn’t see her, and I manage to frown at her in time to get her to wipe that slick smile off her face.

I get that she’s excited—she’s related to Zerachu, and she and I are the two people in the room privy to this information. In short, Rachel is the only one who can save her great-aunt, and ultimately, save the world.

Wow, that sounded dramatic.

But it’s true… and it’s huge.

That’s what she said.

Although I trust that she’s a mighty witch, things are getting dangerous. When even the Elders can’t fix something, things are bad. Really bad. That’s what happens when witches use blood magic.

I’m glad we have the same blood standing right here in this room, but how the hell does a kid stand a chance against something this crazy?

I swallow hard, feeling bile bubble in the pit of my stomach. Am I anxious, or withdrawing from alcohol?

“You’re telling us we can’t go out into view?” someone shouts.

The round dwarf nods slowly. “The spell is worldwide. Humans can see your true form.”

“But vampires are free to walk about as they please,” a Gorton cuts in. “This was clearly orchestrated by them.”

“Yes, group us all into one…” comes a somber voice.

At the far back corner stands a vampire with arms crossed over his belly, a long leather jacket that hangs right above his ankles, and a sour look on his face that tells me he doesn’t put up with being labeled.

“Anthony, you know I didn’t mean—” says the Gorton.

Anthony the vampire raises a white hand—a gesture meant to signify, don’t waste your breath—and the Gorton’s mouth becomes a flat line.

“We don’t have proof of anything,” the dwarf says. He scratches his dark, wrinkled skin and sighs toward the ceiling. The guy reminds me of a police chief who’s spent too long in his position. “All I know is that static fae must remain in hiding.”

By static, he means demons who can’t conceal their true selves. Luckily for me, I look human unless I choose to reveal myself. People like Drax, however, are always their demon selves. Magic protects them from feebles and now, that’s been tampered with.

“Well…” comes a familiar voice. “Many of us can still walk among humans.”

Out from the crowd comes the teenage witch from earlier—the kid who helped us out with the dragon.

“Zane,” Rachel breathes.

Zane’s dark eyes roll toward her. He hesitates, his lips partially open, but then turns his attention back toward the crowd.

Shit.

He knows she isn’t supposed to be in here. Hopefully, he likes her enough to not rat her out.

“Until the Elders figure out how to disable this spell,” he says simply, “our brothers and sisters will have to fight in the shadows.”

By brothers and sisters, I assume he’s referring to any static demon within the Battalion.

Everyone nods slowly, almost entranced, as if Devania were the one speaking. Who is this kid and why is everyone suddenly showing so much respect?

“The Council of Elders is searching for the Book of Origin and the Heart of Danu as we speak. They’ve asked for our help to keep our kind away from the humans.”

The energy in the room shifts.

For the first time, I see a group of soldiers prepared to fight for a cause—not a crowd of panicked shadow dwellers.

Out from the crowd comes a tall, dark-skinned man with white eyes and pointed ears. “We will spread the word among our people.”

A dark faerie.

Beside him are three others—one male and two females. They nod without saying a word, their piercing eyes searching the room.

Dark faeries get a bad rap, but what people don’t understand is that they aren’t all evil. A lot of them are good, but their magic is badass and often deadly.

Everyone knows not to piss off a dark faerie, which makes having them on our side invaluable.

Zane places a solid fist over his chest and lowers his head—a gesture meant to signify thank you, or good luck.

“We will fight to the death,” comes a deep, yet feminine voice.

She steps forward, her plated chest gleaming, and wraps her fingers around her sword’s hilt. Her hair, long and braided, hangs over one shoulder down to her waist. I don’t even have to smell her to know what she is—an Amazonus demon.

Sometimes referred to as Amazons in Greek mythology, Amazonus demons have been around for centuries. Although they don’t possess any magic, they’re bold, courageous, and possess strength comparable to that of ten feebles, making them ideal soldiers. Behind her stands another dozen women in metal plated armor, their chins level with the floor and their fearless eyes fixated straight ahead.

Again, Zane touches his chest and bows.

More and more shadow dwellers step forward, offering their skills and specialties to the cause.

Ace glances sideways at me, likely wondering the same thing I am: what do we as sex demons have to offer the world other than a good time?