Page 31 of Dark Awakening

The stench in the air is nauseatingly pungent—Lucian grunts, “Goddamn, that hit the spot. There’s nothing quite like devouring a piece of shit for dinner.”

I chuckle darkly. Erik asks about the bodies. Lucian texts his cleanup crew—problem solved. A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. Lucian answers it and instructs three men to come in and take care of the bodies. With the sweet taste of revenge in my mouth, I feel a rush that lifts the weight off my shoulders. That fucker had it coming. Drugging women just to get laid? It made me want to puke. And when he did it to my girl, that was the end of his sorry ass. He fucked up big time.

But Max's words continue nagging at me—his boss, Azrael. My suspicions regarding Azrael's activities involving humans only deepen. Trafficking them, or something even more insidious...

I voice my most chilling thought out loud. "Do you think Azrael could be working for Moretemis?"

Lucian visibly pales at the sound of that vile name. If the demon has corrupted Azrael to his side, then we're all monumentally screwed. That conniving bastard Moretemis has been hell-bent on shredding the realms and turning them into his all-you-can-eat demon buffet for bloody eons. And with a powerful and well-connected asset like Azrael at his disposal... It doesn't bear thinking about.

Lucian confirms my fears in blunt terms. "We are well and truly, royally, mega-fucked if that's the case. That freak's been jonesing to bust through the realms and go full Anakin-kills-younglings for ages now. If he's got Azrael on the payroll, brothers...it's lights out, game over."

At this grim prospect, Erik pleads desperately that we must refocus our efforts on locating the prophesied mortal foretold to be our only salvation. Shame floods through me. Distracted by Danica of late, I've neglected that most sacred duty.

"You're right. We must speak to Adrian immediately," I declare. "Gather any insight he may have uncovered."

But Lucian raises a halting hand. "Negative, Ghost Rider. We stick to the pre-established protocol. Investigating Azrael comes first. No deviations or detours."

I bristle instinctively at being denied but force myself to concede to Lucian's sound logic. Finding proof of Azrael abetting that demon and cutting off his access to resources takes clear precedence over chasing myths, no matter how pressing. Time grows shorter by the hour to locate this supposed mortal savior, yet... Lucian's tactical mind remains sharpest. I must stay the course and trust his judgment.

Back in the office following the cleanup crew's efficient departure, Lucian reveals an enticing development—Azrael will soon be hosting his usual lavish masquerade ball—the perfect Trojan horse for infiltrating his stronghold unseen.

My eyes gleam eagerly at the opportunity, thoughts already straying to Danica attending the same event, resplendent in an elegant evening gown...

Noticing my transparent distraction, Lucian smirks knowingly. "Two weekends from now, lover boy. Plenty of time to pick out matching accessories."

I pointedly ignore his jab. "Know anywhere reputable to acquire proper attire and disguises?" I ask in a bored tone.

"Got you covered, big guy. I'll outline the full battle plan later."

I nod, mind racing with tactical possibilities. We'll slip away from the vapid revelry and stealthily access Azrael's private chambers, uncovering proof of his corrupt alliance with Mortemis. And perhaps even free some of his imprisoned prisoners as a bonus.

Squaring his shoulders with renewed vigor, Lucian vows, "I'll keep digging into Azrael's shadowy operations, acquire us some costumes so we blend in at that snake pit of a ball. We'll expose the rot at his core."

Approval glints in Erik's eyes. "Well-devised, brother. Draw no suspicion so we may strike unseen at the heart."

Our course is now clear. Azrael's web begins unraveling in a couple of weeks. And perhaps I'll reunite with my captivating Danica... The coming night promises revelations—let the games commence.

Danica

20

What am I doing, letting this dark and dangerous stranger seduce me night after night? I know I should resist his tantalizing touch, but my desires betray me.

Who does this shady weirdo think he is, sneaking into my apartment uninvited like a damn ninja? I don't care how ripped his abs are or how good he makes this kitty purr. It stops now.

This guy has more red flags than a game of Minesweeper. Stalking me at work? Yea, that's not suspect AT ALL. And what kind of kinky Fifty Shades crap is he into with the dark hoodie and keeping his face hidden? Some vampire asshole who gets off on control.

Well, I'm nobody's plaything. Next time tall, dark, and shady shows up, I'm gonna tell that fine piece of man meat to kick rocks.

My heart pounds as I try desperately to think straight. I need answers.

I begin to feel a strange warmth radiating through my hands. I lay frozen on the bed, my eyes fixed on my open palms, watching in stunned disbelief as a spark of glimmering white fire laced with shimmering lavender and silver glitter suddenly explodes from my skin.

The bright flames burst forth, illuminating the dim room as if they were made of glowing starlight. The intense heat radiating from the mystical fire sends a frantic alarm of worry rushing through me, and my heart pounds rapidly in my chest. Their raw, mystical energy hums under my skin, and I realize with dawning exhilaration that this flaming power comes from within me.

I stare in disbelief as my hands pulsate with an eerie, paranormal luminosity. Is this some kind of hallucination? Have I finally lost every marble in my wee little head?

Furiously, I flail my arms as if shaking an etch-a-sketch could erase the supernatural shimmer enveloping my extremities. But the spooky glow persists, twinkling mockingly like glow-in-the-dark stars.

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