Her Black Magic (The Dark Amulet Series Book 4) Read online

  HER BLACK MAGIC

  A.J. NORRIS

  HER BLACK MAGIC

  The Dark Amulet Series Book Four

  Copyright © 2019 by A.J. NORRIS.

  DELICIOUS NIGHTS PRESS, LLC

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Designed by: Deranged Doctor Design

  Edited by: Felicia A. Sullivan

  Formatted by: A.J. Norris

  ISBN: 978-1-7320238-3-3

  First Edition: February 2019

  DEDICATION

  For my readers

  THE DARK AMULET SERIES

  Her Black Wings

  Her Black Heart

  Her Black Soul

  DARK AMULET LEGENDS

  Fireproof

  OTHER BOOKS BY A.J. NORRIS

  The Gods of Greyfall Collection

  THE TATTOO CRIMES NOVELS

  Tattoo Killer

  Inked Killer

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  A heavy, hot hand clamped down on Freya’s mouth and her eyes popped open. She tried screaming but no one could hear her muffled cries for help. Her heart pounded in her chest. The smell of charcoal and sulfur burned her nose. Sharp fingernails dug into her cheeks. Tears leaked from her eyes. A large beast knelt next to her head, looming over her prone form. What was she doing on the floor of her basement?

  Oh, no.

  Something had gone wrong. There had been a small fire and a glass bottle exploded, and the thick shards struck her in the chin and neck. The coldness from the floor seeped into her bones. Candlelight from the altar along the basement wall highlighted the dark shape, horns jutting out from its head. Glowing crystal blue eyes stared down at her.

  “Tears for me? Aren’t you sweet,” a deep man’s voice drawled. This wasn’t the sound she imagined would spew from this creature’s mouth. It sounded human. Normal. She shook her head despite her fear of the ebony skinned beast. Fortunately, she drew strength from the trauma she’d endured as a child. Nobody was a scarier monster than her father. For all she knew this was a nightmare, just like the countless other ones she’d had before.

  She wrestled her head to dislodge his hand and yelled, “No!”

  “Feisty one. Good. I like a challenge.” A short bursting laugh came out of his mouth. His fangs dripped with saliva.

  Freya turned her head when a droplet pelted her right below one of her eyes. “Get away from me!”

  He stood, hunching his shoulders under the low ceiling. His horns banged into the rafters.

  Freya crab-walked backward toward the wall, keeping her eyes on the creature. She bumped into the cinderblocks then rolled to her hands and knees. Crawling as fast as she could, she reached the bottom of the stairs, the only way out of the basement. She pulled herself up by the railing and scrambled up the steps. Was the beast following her? Was this a dream? She didn’t dare glance back.

  The door to the kitchen was open and she tripped on the last two risers. She caught the doorknob with her hand, managing to stay on her feet. Bright light from the overhead fixture stung her eyes. As she swung the door closed, the beast filled the stairwell, approaching rapidly. Her heart pounding in her throat she slammed the door shut and set the lock. The beast smashed into the back of the door, shaking the panel between the jambs. She yelped.

  Oh, God what is that thing?

  Pivoting away from the basement access, Freya bolted. She slammed into a large immovable object. “Uh!” She crashed to the linoleum floor, knocking her head. Her world fuzzed in and out and she rolled from side to side, desperately gasping for air.

  “Did you think you could run from me?”

  Yes, she thought, except kept the answer to herself. Flipping to her stomach, she pulled her body along the floor using her forearms. A hot hand clamped onto her ankle, the long fingers curling around her leg.

  She kicked and screamed, “Nooo!”

  He flipped her over with ease. Dropping to his knees, he straddled her hips. Catching her flailing arms, he pinned them over her head with one claw-like hand. A thin black snake moved around his body. Its head was shaped like a spade…shit, this wasn’t a snake. The beast had a tail. He lashed her across the face with it, stinging her cheek. “That was to teach you never to run from me.”

  Tears fell freely from her eyes. She hated pain.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.

  “H-How—wha—y-you don’t know me.” She could barely form a sentence. His nasty breath was a blast of humid heat on her face, making it hard for her to breathe.

  “Oh, but I do know you, Freya.” Pangs of terror grabbed hold of her gut, twisting and causing so much agony the edges of her vision blurred. He knew her name.

  Her head lolled to the side. His tail roughly nudged her head straight, forcing her to look at him. A pattern of thin grooves etched his hairless body.

  “Please…” she begged. “No.”

  “Begging won’t get you my sympathy, only death. But,” the creature laughed, “you’re already dead.”

  She remembered the glass slicing her neck and swallowed hard. Was she bleeding? Squeezing her eyes shut, she jerked her arms. The beast’s hold didn’t budge. She screamed and her voice was cut off by a hot, calloused palm over her mouth.

  He groaned low in the back of his throat. “You have no idea how much I hate screaming.”

  She inhaled sharply through her nose, the sulfur odor causing an overwhelming tickle in her chest. She coughed under the beast’s heavy hand. Her lungs burned. She struggled to free her arms, writhing and kicking her legs. Choking. Suffocating. Freya didn’t think she had died, although she may now if she couldn’t get away from this beast.

  “You’re so dramatic, don’t you think?” he said casually. His cavalier manner of speaking made her fight harder. “You’re not going to escape me. I am Abaddon. I will never let you go.”

  We’ll see about that.

  Freya hadn’t survived years of mental and physical abuse to give up battling now. She wanted to live, and in order to do that she had to have time to think, not react. She stopped the futile struggle against the beast’s brute strength, clearly overpowering her smaller muscles. Letting her body go lax, she took deep breaths. The creature’s cold eyes stared at her as she settl
ed. His horns had ridges and resembled an impala’s, only thicker.

  She stared back at the behemoth on top of her, two thoughts occurring to her. Either this was merely a dream of a demon she’d conjured up from the drawings depicting evil spirits in the many books on Satanism her father had left behind, which she had been forced to read, or…this might really be happening. She tried speaking with the creature’s hand over her mouth.

  “Are you going to scream if I remove my hand?” he asked.

  “Uh uh,” she mumbled.

  “One octave above a normal speaking voice and I remove your larynx.” He took his hand away, dragging his long, sharp nails across her lips.

  She whimpered quietly. “H-How do you know my name?”

  “Does it matter? I own your soul now. You’re mine.”

  “How can you own my soul? I never sold it to you.” This was a thing, right? You had to sell your soul to the Devil for him to take possession?

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you referring to the ridiculous idea that one can sell their soul to the Devil? The Devil takes, he doesn’t bargain. And I’ve come to take you home.”

  “But I am home.”

  “You think this is a joke? I assure you won’t be laughing in another second.” A dark circle appeared next to them and increased in size. The edges around the blackened area distorted the kitchen. High-pitched squeals flowed into the room that sounded like some poor soul was being tortured. Freya lifted her head to see inside and red eyes glowed back at her. How could this be real?

  Since this was a dream, she figured she’d try what her shrink told her to do when she had a nightmare, make it less scary by taking control of what was happening. After all, dreams came from the mind.

  “Are you taking me to Hell?” she asked.

  “Silence!”

  She cringed and turned her head as he spat in her face. “I only asked a simple quest—”

  “You will not speak unless spoken to.”

  “What if I have more quest…awk!”

  The beast seized her throat and squeezed. “Would you like to lose the ability to speak?”

  She shook her head and the pressure on her windpipe lessened.

  “Good girl.” He yanked her off the floor and the blood rushed to her head.

  Freya listed into the breakfast table, the legs screeching over the linoleum. “Whoa, head rush.” Pivoting toward the demon in her kitchen, she finally got a good view of the beast. Horns and a tail weren’t the only non-human features he had. Instead of feet, he had cloven-hooves and legs like a horse’s with thick, powerful thighs.

  He stomped over and captured her around the waist. “We go now!”

  “Hey, wait…can I pack a bag?”

  “For what?”

  “My clothes, shoes, toiletries…oh, and my—”

  “You won’t have a need for any of those things where I’m putting you.” The beast put her under his arm like a ragdoll, his fingernails scratching her.

  She slapped and pried at his hands. “You’re hurting me. You know, if you want me to come with you, all you have to do is ask nicely.” Surprising her, he set her on her feet. Then he whipped her around and shoved the small of her back against the counter. A twinge of pain shot down her legs, radiating from her spine.

  He stared down at her as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Imagine that, all I have to do is ask nicely. Why didn’t I think of that?” His words dripped with sarcasm.

  She swallowed. “Yeah. Ladies respond better when you don’t threaten them.”

  “Is that so? You are either crazy or very stupid.”

  Oh, hell no.

  Nothing pissed her off more than someone calling her crazy, or even insinuating it. Her body shook and her blood heated. “I’m not crazy!” she screamed so loud she hurt her own ears. “Get out of my house! You can’t have my soul!”

  God, she had no idea what she was saying. For years, she’d struggled with her sanity. This dream could suck it.

  The beast covered his ears, wincing.

  “I’m not crazy!” she yelled again and again. The room spun, jumbling her head. She clutched her stomach as bile rose. Doubling over, she closed her eyes and waited to get sick on the floor. In the next second, she found herself in the basement lying on the floor, then standing with glass in her neck, gasping for air. She blacked out.

  Freya opened her eyes and looked around her bedroom. Oh, shit, the magic potion, the glass explosion. Her neck. A cold sweat broke out on her entire body and her heart pounded. “Uh!” She touched her throat. “Oh, thank God.” That had only been a dream.

  Chapter One

  FREYA

  Freya leaned over the kitchen sink to wash her hands. No matter how much she scrubbed, she still saw the red that was not there. Although, the water ran clear, blood coated her skin.

  She had dyed her hair, and hardly anyone recognized her anymore. Which was the point, wasn’t it? She wanted to hide from her past. Her father had ruined her, stripped away just about every ounce of her humanity. She didn’t think like other people, and she knew this because she’d attended support groups for victims of violent crimes, except she was the perpetrator. Over the years many social workers and therapists told her that she too was a victim. However, Freya wasn’t convinced. If she was a victim, then how come she felt like a villain?

  God, this is useless.

  Why couldn’t she get clean? Her shaky hands burned under the hot spray. She forced herself to turn the water off and walk away from the sink. The hallucinations had returned ever since she’d received a letter from her father’s attorney requesting she be at his appeal hearing. Her cell phone lay on the kitchen table. She contemplated calling her shrink, Dr. Sato. No, she couldn’t keep calling the woman like a crutch every day of the week.

  Freya grabbed a clean bowl from her dishwasher, dumped a can of chicken noodle soup in it, and shoved the bowl into the microwave. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for the ding.

  Freya sat down at her table with her bowl of soup. She had no interest in eating for any other reason than pure survival. Nothing tasted good. No matter what she ate, nothing interested her. Everything was meh. Her phone buzzed with an incoming text message from April. Her only friend. Okay, friend was an exaggeration, the woman was her cousin. Nonetheless, they hung out together about every other night. She was the only one of her family that continued speaking to her on a regular basis.

  April: ‘Where R U?’

  Freya typed a quick response. ‘I’ll be there.’

  April: ‘When?’

  When I get there, she thought, then typed, ‘Be there soon.’ Her cell spun across the table when she tossed it down. She ate in silence, staring at the wall in front of her. April was meeting her downtown at the dance club Eternity. Although the bar pumped loud music and packed in throngs of people drunk off their asses, the place provided an odd comfort. The energy inside was the positive to her negative.

  * * *

  JOELLE

  Joelle stood outside a tiny house under a tree in the shadows, peering into the kitchen through the window. A woman frowned while washing her hands at the sink. Deus, the Creator of All Life, never told him her name but he had been to her house earlier today and read her mail. He had only seen her once and had memorized her face, the subtle purple undertones of her hair and the way her bangs brushed her forehead. Her teal blue eyes snapped in contrast to her thick, dark makeup. The first time he saw her, she had her hair braided. Tonight she wore it down.

  Freya moved away from the window out of his view and he went in closer. The tips of his wings brushed over the grass, picking up fallen leaves.

  She sat at her kitchen table eating her dinner and staring at the floral pattern wallpaper. Pink tea roses on a cream background. Her dress was all black and hugged her body. Straps of leather crisscrossed her chest. The top swells of her breasts peeked through the leather. Joelle imagined she was meeting friends for drinks later at the latest
club. At least she appeared like she would be going out soon.

  Chew…swallow…stare…repeat. Her expression never changed as far as he could tell. She picked up her vibrating cell phone. Her fork clanked on the plate as she set it down. Freya tapped the screen and sighed.

  The chair scraped across the tile floor. Joelle ducked out of view below the kitchen window as she approached the sink. She set her plate down and ran the water for a moment. He crawled away from the window, back into the shadows of a tree. After snatching her phone and jacket off the back of one of the chairs she fled her house. She didn’t carry a purse apparently.

  Inside her car, she lit a cigarette. Joelle hid in the shadows next to the house watching the orange glow brighter as she took a drag from the cancer stick. He wasn’t certain in the dark but it looked like she was smoking a cigarillo. With it hung from her lips, she started her beat up red Mazda and sped backward out of the driveway.

  Joelle shivered and wrapped his wings in tighter around his torso. The air smelled of dry leaves, a sign of an impending autumn. Damn. He should have manifested a coat—he’d saved the energy in lieu of teleporting if the need arose.

  He found her chatting up one of the bouncers outside Eternity a half hour later. Little did Freya know, the club’s security consisted of two angels, who let her inside. Joelle hung back across the street. One of the bouncers nodded at him. Damn. He’d hoped they wouldn’t notice him.

  Trotting across the street to the entrance of the club, Joelle clapped hands with one of them. “Hey, how’s the action tonight?” he asked, sounding causal.

  “All right, I guess.” The angel peered around the long line of clubbers huddled against the front of the club and down toward the end of the block.

  Joelle whistled. “Long line tonight. What’s the occasion?” There was no special occasion. Eternity was the just the best dance club around. The neon sign above the entrance painted the sidewalk in blue light. The bouncer angel’s wings glowed blue as well. Angels’ wings appeared translucent to them in the company of humans and humans couldn’t see them. The crests rose above their heads, elegantly cascading to the ground. Joelle glanced over his shoulder, his did too. At times he was tempted to make them visible to humans for the fun of it.