The Devil's Own: Murphy's Law, Book One Read online

  The Devil’s Own is an unstoppable story that hooks you right from the start. This spellbinding debut will make K.A. Fox one

  of your new favorite authors. A must read

  for all lovers of dark fantasy.

  —Jessica Therrien,

  best-selling author of

  Children of the Gods

  For Tony and the 3Gs – we did it.

  THE

  DEVIL’S

  OWN

  K.A. FOX

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Advertencia Antipirateria del FBI: La reproducción o distribución no autorizada de una obra protegida por derechos de autor es ilegal. La infracción criminal de los derechos de autor, incluyendo la infracción sin lucro monetario, es investigada por el FBI y es castigable con pena de hasta cinco años en prisión federal y una multa de $250,000.

  The Devil’s Own

  First Edition

  Copyright © 2019 K.A. Fox

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from the author.

  This story is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Book interior formatted and copy editing by Debra Cranfield Kennedy

  www.acornpublishingllc.com

  ISBN—Hardcover 978-1-947392-49-6

  ISBN—Paperback 978-1-947392-48-9

  Chapter One

  The red sequins at the top of my corset dug into my pale skin. I silently cursed the sizing guide that had suggested this might actually fit. The horned headband holding back the blonde curls I wore was giving me a headache, and I seriously considered smacking the next guy who grabbed at my tail. But, this was the job and I had to stick it out.

  I’d been working the floor at the Gentlemen’s Club in Angel Falls, Minnesota for weeks and I was still coming up empty. The man I was looking for was a no-show—again.

  As the music came to an end, the DJ’s voice came over the speakers. “Our next dancer, Marie, has a special request for her first song tonight. Let’s everyone raise our glasses in honor of Angus Murphy and The Law—this is their song, ‘The Devil’s Own’.”

  It had been ten years since the band’s plane had crashed and people still acted like they had just died yesterday. I couldn’t deny their music had been good, but this sort of memorial was an annual ritual everywhere on Halloween. As a guitar riff replaced the DJ, everyone in the club stood, lifting their drinks in a solemn toast. I worked my way through the heavy crowd, skirting between people. The floor was slick with spilt alcohol and I was careful to avoid even the most casual touch.

  At the bar, I entered drink orders, then slid away into the corner while they were prepared. The exposed brick of the walls dug into my bare shoulders, but this vantage point gave me the best view of the entire room. Men clustered up around the stage, their eyes laser-focused on Marie. We might have only met weeks ago, but in that time, she’d talked nonstop about her dreams of using the money she earned dancing to open her own yoga studio someday and regularly practiced poses in between her sets on the stage. Much to the men’s, and her bank account’s delight, she wasn’t afraid to use some of those moves to her advantage on the pole.

  The music built up to a crescendo at the chorus. Despite my ambivalent feelings, I couldn’t keep myself from singing along quietly.

  You can make the deal, roll the dice,

  but I’ll give you one piece of advice.

  There’s nowhere to run, no place you can go,

  you’ll always be the Devil’s own.

  A flare of heat ran along my skin. It was the first hint I’d had that my prey might finally be showing himself. I let my eyes wander through the crowd, wishing I knew what this man looked like. His face was always blurred in the security footage from the previous murders; a hint this murderer wasn’t strictly human. Magic had let him hide his face as he hunted women down. Even so, I’d traced the pattern of death to Angel Falls. The heat on my skin built steadily, an itch working its way across my stomach. He was getting closer.

  My eyes landed on a man, alone, skirting the edges of the crowd where pool tables were scattered. It looked like he’d just walked in the door, droplets of misty rain still shining in his short hair. His leather jacket and clothing were dark, letting him blend in with the shadows as he moved. His eyes were targeted on Marie, watching every move she made on the stage, never even drifting to anyone else. I kept my attention on him, watching as he passed under a small light that lit him up for a brief second. Red highlights flashed within his dark brown hair. This had to be the man I’d been searching for.

  He stopped near a door to the private dance room, but didn’t go in. He stood there like a statue, with an eerie stillness that made me think of violence coiled inside him, waiting to strike. I marked his location and turned back to the bartender who was waving me over. My orders were up. I straightened my horns and the nametag I wore that read JANEY, close enough to my own name that I wouldn’t fail to respond when someone hollered it at me. One last deep breath. The time had come to head back out and play my part.

  I worked my way around, delivering drinks even as I kept my attention on the man I’d been waiting for. He was still in place, watching the stage, his eyes never leaving Marie. As much as I itched to end the hunt while he was distracted, I was acutely aware of the security cameras above, always watching. No one could suspect I was anything other than what I’d claimed to be.

  As Marie’s final song came to an end, the closing notes were drowned out by the loud voices of two large men near the stage. The shouting escalated into pushing and shoving. Their friends jumped in, the tension in the air instantly ratcheting up. Security came running and pushed me off to the side as punches started flying. I pretended to lose my balance, wobbling on my high heels. Someone yanked on my tail and I fell backwards, the remaining drinks on my tray launching up into the air before crashing down on top of me as I landed in a man’s lap, his hands groping at me, his skin touching mine.

  That momentary contact was enough. Hunger surged up in me, and the ever-present shield I kept in place wavered. The temptation to feed myself from this man’s energy swamped me. That starving piece inside me expanded, pleading for even a small taste. I could smell the soap he’d used earlier in the day comingled with sweat from a hard day of physical work and tobacco smoke. The instinct that made me this way promised it would be delicious if I would only give in. I almost did. But the fury swirling in my chest was stronger. I fought through the haze of need, focused on the reason I was there.

  I tried to regain my feet, but the man grabbed at me, holding me in place. I threw my head back, appreciating the sound of his nose cracking on contact. He wailed, his hands releasing me as he cradled his face, and I jumped away from him. The place had become a free-for-all. Bartenders rushed onto the floor to break up fights. I forced my way around throngs of people, using my tray as a shield when necessary. The stage was the only clear spot, so I climbed up, using one of the poles as leverage and then sliding across to the other side. The club raged around me.

  Just like before, I thought. Utter chaos. That’s when I knew. The murderer I’d been hun
ting all this time had to be a Chaos Demon.

  Panic coursed through me when I found the dressing room empty. I raced to the back door the dancers used when they wanted to go outside to smoke, shoving against the push bar. The door flew wide and I stepped out, letting it slam shut behind me. The sound echoed off the brick walls of the dimly lit alleyway. I knew from scouting the place there were no cameras for me to worry about. A low moan off to the side captured my attention. In the shadows of the far corner, the man I’d spent months trying to track down spun to face me, a small figure behind him shrinking against the wall.

  “Hey!” I yelled to distract him from his prey. “Get away from her!”

  Chaos stepped toward me. Eyes that had seemed so normal inside flashed an unearthly red light for a brief moment. I backed away a couple steps, baiting him into following me. With a little distance, I could kill him without worrying about Marie being hurt . . . or seeing something she shouldn’t.

  I kept moving, maintaining the space between us until he stepped into the light from the flickering halogen overhead, illuminating his facial features; strong nose, chiseled cheekbones, sharp jaw. His lips were pulled back, fangs bared. Growling low in his throat, he rushed at me, hands grasping my upper arms. He had almost a foot of height on me and significant pounds. I let his weight carry me down, rolling with the momentum, pushing him off me and launching him into the air. He crashed against the dumpster. As he gained his footing, I stood, balancing myself to prep for his next assault.

  “You little bitch. I’m gonna enjoy cutting you into little pieces!” He growled and charged at me again. He was fast, but I was ready and slid to the right, grabbing his arm and swinging him up against the wall, grinning as I heard his chin smacking against the bricks. I bent his arm until his shoulder popped, noting the pained sound that escaped him. I kicked the back of his knee, causing it to collapse, dropping him down to the floor of the alleyway.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Just someone who doesn’t like what you do to women,” I said. “And now you’ll know exactly how it feels to be on the receiving end.”

  I had my knee on his back, weight centered to maintain my advantage. But I wasn’t ready when he tensed under me, then reared back. I lost my grip on his arm and fell off to the left, landing on something soft and wet. Chaos swung around and grabbed my foot, dragging me toward him. My back scraped against the pavement, leaving behind a trail of bloody sequins and skin. His claws sank into my bare leg, the liquid trickle of blood starting to run. I caught my breath to fight the scream that threatened to escape. I grasped at the ground, but there was nothing to stop my slide. Then he was straddling me, strong thighs holding me in place while his hands worked their way to my throat. His eyes glittered, pinpricks of red coming and going as he began to squeeze, tighter and tighter. I bucked, trying to suck in air. He laughed at my efforts.

  “That’s right. Fight me, little girl. I enjoy it when you fight.” His voice was like acid burning in my ears. I balled my left hand into a fist and swung it at his head. The connection with his cheekbone sent a shock up my arm, but the impact broke his concentration enough that I was able to suck in a few quick breaths. Shaking his head to clear it, Chaos stayed on top of me, his body weight holding me down even as I thrashed. He sneered, grabbing my left wrist and pinning it down, grinding it into the pavement. The long fingers of his free hand wrapped effortlessly around my small neck and pressed down again. Black specks began to cluster at the edge of my vision. I jerked and tried to scream but there was no air. He leaned in a little closer, laughing. “Just a little longer. Then I’ll enjoy eating you bit by bit. While you’re still alive. Two for the price of one.”

  Drops of his saliva landed on my face as I shoved against him once more. His eyes were locked with mine. I bucked up, less strength in me this time. He easily shrugged off my weak attempts to shake him loose. The sounds of my feet scratching along the rough ground as I tried to find some traction were loud in my ears, desperate as I fought to reach the handle of the blessed blade hidden in my boot. Chaos never looked away from my face, his attention focused intently on me. My vision darkened, blackness edging around the image of him above me. A sick smile crawled across his face, bone white teeth bared. “Soon,” he leaned down to whisper at me, “I’ll have you both.” His tongue snaked out, licking my cheek and laughing in my ear.

  The pop of air when I jammed my knife into his neck was sublimely satisfying. His mouth opened to gasp, choking on blood as the color drained from his face. Words I didn’t understand gurgled out of him, but the rush of blood drowned his voice as he slid off to my side. I crawled out from under his legs, kicking them off and rolling onto my knees. I forced myself to take deep breaths, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. I heard a scrambling sound behind me and twisted around, my hands up in guard. It was just Marie, struggling to get to her feet.

  I crawled over to her, not yet ready to try walking. She was hurt but alive. “Oh my God,” she said, her voice weak. “He was going to kill me.”

  I nodded as she pointed at the collapsed shape on the ground behind me, her hands shaking. “Don’t look,” I said, my throat aching even with those simple words. “Don’t look.”

  She sagged against the wall. Her knees were drawn up tight and she rested her arms against them as she covered her face with her hands. I turned back to where our attacker lay, motionless in a dark spreading pool. His dead eyes appeared human once again. The red sparks that had lit his eyes were gone, his fangs retracted. When the police found us in the alley, they led Marie away to be treated for her injuries. I closed my eyes as her cries rose to a panicked height. At least this part was over.

  Chapter Two

  Sitting in the interview room of the Angel Falls Police Department, I tried to stay warm. Someone had lent me a jacket, but I was still shivering. I wrapped my arms around my middle, hoping to hold in whatever body heat I might have and stave off the shakes threatening to take over. I was tired and dirty, parts of me still spattered with blood. I was ready for a hot shower and pain medicine. My eyes closed, I slowed my breathing until I felt in control again.

  When the door finally opened, I was surprised the man who walked in set a chipped mug of steaming liquid in front of me before he dropped down in the chair across the table. I wrapped my stiff fingers around the warm ceramic, sniffing cautiously.

  “Tea?” I asked.

  “Your friends mentioned you’re not much of a coffee drinker. They seem to think it’s pretty cute you’re hooked on this stuff instead.”

  I nodded, then sipped carefully. It was heaven. “Thank you.”

  “Least I could do after what you went through,” he said. “I’m Detective Bishop.”

  “I’m Janey, but you already know that.”

  “True. Talked with your boss about you and the other girl, Marie.” His gaze flicked over me and I held still even though I hated the scrutiny. “You’re twenty-four, started at the club about a month or so ago. Everyone says you’re quiet, stay out of trouble. No one expected you’d be able to take down a guy at least twice your size with a knife in the jugular.”

  I kept my eyes on his face, wondering at how young he looked for a detective, then let out a nervous laugh before answering his unspoken questions. “I got lucky, I think. Finding that knife there on the ground, I mean. Just wanted to get him off me and make sure he didn’t hurt Marie anymore.”

  “How’d you know he’d taken her out there? She doesn’t remember leaving the stage or walking out there with him at all.”

  “I didn’t, really.” I paused, putting my thoughts together as he pulled a small notepad from his coat pocket. “Usually, if there’s a problem, the girls go to the dressing room. They can lock the door if they need to and when things are under control, they come back out.”

  “But that didn’t happen this time?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I knew something was wrong. The dressing room was empty. The bac
k door is right down the hall, so I thought I should check it.” I paused, the silence stretching out between us.

  When I didn’t continue, he asked gently, “Can you tell me what you saw?”

  Nodding, I closed my eyes and called my own magic into being. The warmth of it rushed through me, pulsing, too much. I reigned it in, only allowing a little to remain free, fluttering through me with the beat of my heart. I let the smallest amount of it trickle out with my words. To make him believe me. The best lies are based in truth. “He had her up against the wall in the alley. It was dark, but it looked like, maybe he was biting her or something. When he saw me, he let go of Marie and grabbed me.”

  I added a hint of panic to my voice at the end, a flourish in my performance. I stopped, staring down into the mug, watching the whirls of steam drift up. The scratch of a pen filled the room as Detective Bishop scribbled his notes. He gave me time to recover before he asked, “Then what happened?”

  “I tried to pull away and run, but he knocked me down.” I swallowed, a convulsive movement as I remembered what came next. The weight of him holding me down, his hands bruising on my skin. “I must’ve hit my head, because suddenly he was on top of me, his hands around my neck. I couldn’t breathe, and I kept pushing up against him, but he was too big. I was trying to feel for something on the ground I could hit him with and the knife was just there. I stabbed him with it.” My voice gave out. I took a shaky breath, another swallow of tea and then wiped my teary eyes with the edge of the jacket. That was it. All I had to tell.

  “You’re sure you’d never seen him before?” the detective asked.

  I waited for a moment, like I was thinking back over all the customers I’d seen in the club. Finally nodding my head, I let a little more magic infuse my answer. “I’ve got a pretty good memory for faces and I don’t remember him ever coming in.” His shoulders slumped a little, his disappointment visible. “Would it be okay if I go home? I’m cold, and I really want to get cleaned up.” I finished with another push of magic, the sweet taste of it carried along with my voice.