It’s a gritty new world. Three decades after the events of Reaper, the world is a different place. The secret is out. The existence of demons, vampires, shapeshifters, and angels has been revealed, and humans are struggling to adapt. Out of the chaos, The Aegis has risen to global power on the promise of containing or exterminating all underworlders, even if that means ushering in the End of Days. Standing in their way is the next generation of warriors, the children of demons and angels and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. See how they become legends in their own right in Larissa Ione’s Demonica Birthright series, continuing this week. And I have a sneak peek for you…
Excerpt
“I need a favor,” Stryke said. No hello. No hi. No, “sorry about being such a dick.”
Cyan ground to a halt a few feet away. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I ever do you a favor?”
He let out an impatient huff as if she was being oh-so-tedious. “Maybe I should have been, I don’t know…more appreciative. Last night, I mean. But right now, I need your help.”
His lame attempt at an apology amused her. He was so, so bad at it. Someone wasn’t used to making amends, was he? Well, it was fun to watch him squirm, and she wasn’t going to make anything easy for him.
“Sorry, I’m busy.” She spun around, but he was suddenly in front of her, his big body blocking the corridor.
How had he moved so fast? Seminus demons were way more agile than she’d thought. It made her wonder what else she didn’t know about his species.
“It’s an emergency,” he said. “And only a Cyberis demon can handle it.”
Well, that was interesting, but hell if she would admit it. So, she merely gave a nonchalant shrug. “And what is this emergency?”
“I’ll tell you on the way there.” He turned toward the elevator and gestured for her to follow. “Come on. We’re already taking longer than I’d like.”
She wanted to tell him to take a hike, but her curiosity overpowered her better judgment. It was the story of her life, and the reason she got herself into trouble a lot. She stepped into the elevator and rode in uncomfortable silence to his office.
“Now what?” she asked as they exited the lift.
He quickly strode across the floor, clearly expecting her to keep pace. “We’re taking the Harrowgate.”
“Where?”
He waved her into the gate and followed her inside. “To Aberdeen.” His fingers deftly flicked across the maps, and then he entered a private code. “Probably should have grabbed jackets.”
“My species is tolerant to most temperature extremes.”
“Excellent.” The gate opened onto a dark airport tarmac, and they stepped out into stinging rain and shrieking wind. He took her hand. “Hurry!” he yelled against the roar of the weather as he led her across a helicopter pad to one of two waiting choppers.
Her feet splashed through puddles, but at least she’d chosen comfy flats today instead of heels. Still, it would take forever to dry them out.
As they approached the aircraft, an attendant opened the lead helicopter’s side door and helped them out of the storm and into luxury.
Soaked and dripping, they took seats at a table sitting opposite each other. The attendant handed them warm towels, which Cyan took gratefully.
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” She patted her face dry as she peered out the window. The driving rain made it difficult to see much except blurry lights from vehicles and a nearby building.
“We’re flying out to an oil rig in the North Sea.” He ran the towel over his hair, leaving it messy…and strangely charming. She’d never seen him look anything less than perfectly composed.
Aside from the beating last night, of course.
She started wiping her arms. “You own an oil rig?”
“I took control of Sea Storm from a gas company after it drilled into Sheoul.”
She froze, the towel at her elbow. “It drilled into Hell?” Gooseflesh prickled across her skin, and her mouth went parched at the very idea. She’d kill for a Perrier right now. “How is that even possible?”
His expression became as stormy as the weather. “We think they either discovered an unknown, inactive hellmouth or breached a weak spot in the membrane that separates the demon and human realms.”
There were weak spots? Before Cyan could speak—not that she could get a word past the lump in her throat—another flight attendant appeared from the back of the helo with sparkling water for Cyan and an iced coffee for Stryke.
After she left, Cyan frowned at their drinks. “Is that what you wanted?”
He rattled the ice in his glass. “Yep. Why?” He gestured at her water. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I was just thinking that I’d die for a glass of sparkling water, and here it is.”
“Oh, yeah. Delwhin can read minds. And her claws are poisonous, so if anyone thinks about killing me, she’s got my back.”
Ah. Of course. Didn’t everyone have a poisonous flight attendant bodyguard on their payroll?
As the bird lifted off, bucking and jolting, she concentrated on keeping her mind from reeling and her drink from spilling.
The overhead speaker squealed, and the pilot’s deep voice came on. “Mr. Stryke, we should be at the rig in approximately twenty minutes. We’re flying into the storm, so things are going to get rough. Hold on and enjoy the flight. And try not to puke.”
“He always says that,” Stryke muttered over the rim of his glass. “I only did it once. Bastard.”
“Why do you employ him if he’s so annoying?”
Stryke put down his coffee. “He’s an excellent pilot. And a luck demon. I figure the odds of me making it to my destination alive go way up with him on board.”
“Hmm.” She leaned back in her creamy leather seat. “Luck demons build up bad luck that has to be passed off. So, if you’re getting the good luck, who gets the bad?”
“My enemies.” His dark smirk was both sexy and chilling. “Behvyn isn’t just my pilot.”
“Nice.” His ruthlessness was kind of hot…
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Demonica Birthright - Recommended Reading Order
(standalone stories with interconnected characters)
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