Chosen Shadow (Demon Bayou Series Book 4) Read online

  Chosen Shadow

  Demon Bayou Series Book Four

  S Lawrence

  Copyright © 2020 by S. Lawrence.

  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.

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  https://www.slawrencewriter.com/

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  Cover design by Sanja’s Cover

  ISBN: 978-1-950851-06-5

  First Edition: 2020

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by S Lawrence

  Prologue

  I don’t like the plan but I will do it if it ends this war. If it gives the others their chance at a real life, one not saturated with blood and death.

  Lucifer looks at me, saddened by his request.

  “There is no need, my lord.”

  His head shakes at the title, but it is what he became the day he chose us. The day I awoke, changed and angry but still able to recognize the sacrifice, I chose him. I love my brothers, but my loyalty and life belong to the one that made the ultimate sacrifice and still does.

  He gave up not only his life as he knew it but also his very identity. He became Lucifer… Satan… The very King of Hell.

  For us.

  “I will leave as soon as I talk to Zeph.” I smile a little, thinking of the shadow I’ve noticed in the darkness. She will be a perfect match for my friend.

  “Victor, please know I don’t ask lightly. I wish I didn’t have to but…”

  I transform and take to the air, leaving him looking after me.

  My death is a small price to pay.

  Chapter One

  VICTOR

  I glide in, land on the rooftop next to Zeph, and shift back to myself. While the others have gone thousands of years without their wings, I’ve always had mine, of a sort. I’ve flown the skies all over the world in the body of vultures. Not the most beautiful or glamorous of the birds of prey but they are also not paid attention to, which is exactly what I need for my job.

  I am Lucifer’s spy.

  Tonight, I had chosen my favorite of them, the Cinereous vulture from Mongolia. I’ve spent years in the bird’s body, hiding from my brothers at times, even while watching for Luc. Only Zeph knows my favorites and only he can sense me when I’m in the body.

  When he chose Russia for his domain, I chose the borderlands, staying close to him. Zeph loved Russia in the old days, the KGB and, before them, the Czars, interrogating and killing people. It reminded him of the old days, even when we didn’t remember the old days. Somewhere deep within our unconscious was our past, and so it was his constant self-punishment.

  If the others knew about half the things he’s done as penance, they’d think he’d lost his mind. Orphanages and schools. He’s smuggled entire families out from under the noses of the authorities and then set them up in new lives all around the world.

  He is the boy scout of demons.

  I keep his secrets, although I’m positive the women have found him out, at least a little. I might have steered them in the right direction on a couple things after I caught them studying him with Luc’s baby.

  Luc’s baby… That little girl is something very special. I don’t know what just yet but I know I’m not the only one that felt her hint of magic.

  “Brother.” Zeph’s voice calls me from my musings. There will be time to figure out the baby; Luc will not give her up any time soon. Ever, really.

  I understand why. She looks at him with a child’s innocence and will only know the true Lucifer; she will only know Morningstar.

  “I’ve been asked to do something,” I say as I turn towards him.

  “Something dangerous?” I nod at his question. “Can you tell me?” Zeph watches me closely.

  “No. Don’t worry, my friend. You need to be focused on the one lurking.”

  His head turns toward a building not too far away. So, she is growing bolder in her need to watch. I wonder if she knows my secret now. I look with the bird’s eyes, checking each window, but see no one.

  “I could feel her eyes on me not long ago but I’m certain she thought I saw her and fled. If she saw you, friend or foe, I will find her. I will protect your secret.”

  I look at my brother as his eyes flicker red and I know that for me, he would silence her in a very permanent way.

  “No need, brother. If she is yours like we suspect, then she, like you, is welcome to my secrets.” He shakes his head in denial. “Hundreds of years, you have carried this burden alone; it was unfair of me to ask you.” Reaching out, I grab his forearm, and he automatically grips mine in response. “Soon, all secrets will be laid bare. Soon, I pray there is no need for them.”

  Then I see it, the hope that he hasn’t ever let himself feel; it flares to life in his eyes, and they change from the pale periwinkle they normally are to a glorious amethyst. Funny what hope can do.

  Chapter Two

  MISAKA

  I ran until my lungs burned like molten lava was sliding through them. I ran until I was on the edge of the city. Even now, sitting in the darkness of the tiny apartment under the old couple’s house that I had rented in another name, I feel like I haven’t run far enough.

  My heart beats like the Taiko drums used by the Japanese, and my shirt seems to vibrate from each thud. Drawing a deep breath, I fight to find the control taught to me my entire life. The monks would be disappointed in my reaction. Just the thought helps me to focus.

  It is my duty to watch them, my duty to find him, to figure out if he and his chosen will fulfill their destinies. I was born for this task and have trained my entire life, given to the monks and the cause. I can’t let them down. Fingers trace over the amulet resting between my breasts, and it feels hot from my skin. Even now in the darkness, I can picture the design. Ancient and the meaning unknown, it was what had been left with me. My one possession, it had been in the basket with me the morning I had been found.

  The monks had often told me of the morning I had been found. It had been after a storm, and snow had covered the basket. My skin was blue, and I was almost frozen straight through.

  I had been left only hours after I had been born, umbilical cord still attached, with nothing but a thin blanket covering me. A miracle. That’s what they said. I was the only girl raised in the monastery. The monks believe the Dalai Lama, himself, protected me that night.

  Aroon
has always said it was a Yeti, that one had taken me from my mother and brought me to the monks. That even the Yeti couldn’t deal with my mouth. I grin at the memory of him begging the monks to force a vow of silence on me when I was around eight or nine. He is only a couple years older and was the only other child in the monastery, so I was always right behind him.

  I had nothing that was linked to my past besides the piece of carved stone between my fingers. Over the years, I’ve changed what it has hung from -- now it’s on a beautiful silver chain, my one non-practical possession. Strong, woven silver made by one of the monks. Brother Dorje had worked months on it before giving it to me on Lhabab Düchen. It is my favorite holiday; I love doing the good things along with everyone else, earning good karma.

  I just hope I’ve built up enough to make up for everything I’m doing now. Somewhere deep in my soul, I know these men -- demons -- and the women that have joined them are not bad. They might have done horrible things, but their souls burn bright.

  It’s that brightness that led me straight to the one that had been held, slowly dying behind the magical barrier.

  They burn bright like stars in the black sky. Souls that bright can’t be evil.

  Something more is going on but I have no idea what it is. I plan to find out. I just don’t know how or what it will mean to me. I wish I could talk to Brother Rigzin; he has always been my best guidance, my teacher. He is the one that taught me about the prophecy. It was he that was convinced from the moment I arrived at the front gate that I was the girl from the scroll.

  It will be Rigzin I let down if I fail. I picture him, kneeling on the pillow across from me, unrolling the ancient scroll, and holding it so I could see the beautiful drawings. I was too young to understand what any of it meant, but the drawings were important. That I knew for sure.

  It has been years, and I still have that same feeling every time I look at it. Pushing up from where I had slumped on the floor, I make my way over to the bedroom and go to the closet. Sinking to my knees, I pull the small bag from the back corner and unzip it.

  Reaching in, I pull the tube out and take the end off. Calmness rushes through my veins as soon as my fingers touch the fabric rolled inside. Pulling gently, I slide the silk from the darkness and untie the red ribbon that holds it closed. The ribbon is frayed at the ends. Moving over to the bed, I let it unroll, smoothing the almost transparent fabric out flat.

  Reaching to the table, I pick up a match and drag it over the side of the box, blinking as the smell reaches my nose and the flame flares bright, lighting the candle that sits next to the box before moving it closer. The gold threads and brilliant paints shimmer as the flame dances.

  The fabric is worn, but I imagine the paintings are as brilliant as they were when they were painted. I have studied the scenes thousands of times and still I don’t understand them, not all of it anyway.

  This time, my eyes are glued to the two figures on top of the mountain. The others are right. I have to admit it, at least to myself. I glance up and into the gilded mirror on top of the dresser across from the bed. The woman on the mountain is me. The man is the one from the rooftop.

  What does it mean?

  Who am I?

  For the first time, I really wish I knew where I came from. Never before have I cared about my parents. I’ve thought about my mother; I think that is human nature. But I never considered actually trying to find her or my father. The monks are my family.

  My phone rings, and I look down as a smile curves my lips.

  “Hello, Father.”

  “Little Dragon, have you finally begun to see with your soul and not your eyes?”

  I don’t know how he does it, but he always knows. “I’m the woman on the mountain.”

  “Yes. And?”

  I grin at his impatience, but it fades quickly. “What have you sent me into, Father?”

  “Your destiny, Daughter, the thing you were born to do, to be.” I shake my head at his words, a heated rage burning bright unexpectedly.

  “You should have told me, warned me. All my life, you’ve hidden things from me and now you send me here unprepared. Why?” Tears burn my eyes like acid.

  “You know some things can’t be taught; some things won’t be believed until they are seen with clear eyes and an open mind and heart.” He sighs. “You were never meant for me, but I have loved you like my own for your entire life. Hold a light behind the scroll and then you will understand. I hope you love me still.”

  The call disconnects, my hand lowers, and I stare at my phone. Shocked. What will I see that could snuff out a lifetime of love? Hands shaking, I pick up the fabric and hold it in front of the flickering flame.

  “Oh my God.” The words sound loud in the silent apartment.

  The light has revealed a dark design hidden in the threads of the fabric. A design I wear around my neck. The silk flutters to the floor.

  He knew my entire life. He found me outside the gate, saw the amulet, and he knew. He never told me, never even hinted, but this is all about me. How? I stare at the picture. It had been at the monastery for hundreds of years, painted even before that, and yet it’s a picture of me. Me and the man I’ve been sent to watch.

  A demon. A Prince of Hell.

  My eyes stray to the fabric once again, and I swallow hard. What does any of this mean? Heart pounding and a roaring in my ears overtakes me. Panic. I’ve never felt it at this level; it washes over me, through my veins.

  I can’t focus as I stumble to my feet, backing out of the room. I leave the fabric on the floor. It doesn’t seem as precious as it did just minutes ago. Everything I thought I knew about myself is false. Lies.

  How do I find the truth?

  No idea.

  Standing frozen in the middle of the living area, I feel lost. Untethered. Moments, minutes, or hours later, a knock at the door startles me. I flinch as my head whips around.

  Another knock, this one more insistent.

  No one but the older couple that lives upstairs knows I’m here. Muscle memory takes over, and my body prepares to fight. I still haven’t moved, but there’s another knock and then a quiet voice.

  “I think you’ve been looking for us. For me.” A woman’s voice.

  I weigh my options, and my curiosity wins out. I find myself at the door, my hand on the latch.

  Chapter Three

  ZEPH

  I watch my friend shift into one of the many birds he loves to be and take off from my side. Heading off into the night, he flies once again into danger for Lucifer. To protect us all. Victor has always been a protector.

  Now that my memories have been returned to me, I remember exactly how much of one. Shaking my head, I realize Lucifer, who truly knew and knows us both before and after our rebirths, has always steered us to our truths. Steered us to the very things that speak to our true nature, giving us any peace he could through the endless years.

  Fuck, the man deserves so much more than what he’s been dealt in this shit show. My fists clench in rancor at the shit we have endured for a war we didn’t want, didn’t start, and are blamed for every second of every day.

  Goddamn it. Fucking hell.

  I pace to the edge of the roof and contemplate throwing myself off the motherfucker. What would be the point though? I can’t die… Not like that, anyway. Good thing too, at least for the war, because we would have all done it at some point.

  My mind drifts back over the years, over the faces of those I’ve hurt, killed, or worse. I say worse because there are things so much worse than death and I’ve done them all. Screams fill my ears even when I am surrounded by silence.

  The toes of my boots hang over the edge of the roof as I watch people pass below. I suppose it would be another mark on my soul if I killed an innocent by-passer by falling on them.

  I’m still looking down a few minutes later when I notice a certain masculine figure move around the side of the building. What’s Charlie up to, and where is Dagen? I glance arou
nd at the sky and the rooftops, but he is nowhere in sight. No one is, not even the other women. Odd.

  Frowning, I try to decide what to do. Follow or trust? I’m not known to trust, but Charlie and the others are different. I’ve never felt this type of indecision. This is insanity.

  Trust.

  Mind made up, I turn my eyes away from Charlie, making her way down the street. She wasn’t wandering; she had a clear direction she was traveling. She knows something but obviously isn’t ready to share. My gaze finds its way back to the buildings I had been studying when Victor appeared. No lights, no movement. If she had been watching, she’s long gone now.

  The phone in my pocket vibrates, and I pull it out absentmindedly, not even looking at it until I have it close to my face. The tone has already told me who it is.

  Call please. There is an issue.

  Nothing more, for Erin has alway been straight to the point. A woman of few words but a huge heart. She is possibly the bravest human I’ve ever known, maybe the smartest too. She found me ten years ago. All by herself, she tracked me through the orphanage in Saint Petersburg, tracked me and demanded I do more.

  More. She demanded more and demanded that I let her help. I fought her for months, but she followed me to every city. Every time I turned around, she was there. She learned much about me, about us, in the months she followed. Too much.