Chapter 1
TWENTY-TWO YEARS LATER, LONDON.
PERSEPHONE
There was a Lamia demon at Starbucks.
Of course there was.
I sipped my extra-shot latte and sighed.
She was glamoured, looking like a regular businesswoman heading home.
Dressed in a black trouser suit, her red hair piled atop her head, she wore sunglasses—a bit out of place in the evening, but a necessity.
Their crimson pupils were a bit of a giveaway and tended to freak the hell out of humans.
As a witch, I could sense her true essence, and it made my skin crawl.
Double crap on a cracker. So much for a quiet evening.
The demon had eyes on a couple of youngsters—perhaps around fifteen years old. She was clearly sussing out her next meal. Lamias didn’t need to feed often, but when they did, it was grim.
Fucking demons.
After the war, everything changed.
The gods reclaimed control of the mortal world, and the battle between them and humanity was catastrophic.
It raged for nearly a year—bloody, ruthless, and always tilted in their favour.
Sure, some gods fell. Or maybe a few were conveniently eliminated by their own kind.
I wasn’t there, and honestly, I didn’t care.
What mattered was the aftermath.
The chaos cracked something open, and things that should’ve stayed locked in the dark slipped through. Demons. Nightmares. Creatures born of shadow and blood. The Underworld had spilled over, and the world never quite healed.
This Lamia was one of them.
But her time was almost up… I was going to make damn sure of it.
Humans stayed blissfully unaware of the monsters lurking in their cities.
Most attacks were blamed on deranged people—and to be fair, there were plenty of those too.
The rest of the magical community—shifters, fae, and the like—had learned to blend in, carving out hidden enclaves within human society and playing nice under the watchful eye of the Council of Magic.
My brethren, witches and mages, worked tirelessly to rid cities of the problem ghouls, but we had to lie low since the gods had returned to our world.
We had to be careful. The gods banished witchcraft, and the Council of Magic, along with witches, mages, and covens, went underground.
And the slaughter of my people? It was history repeating itself—just like the old witch trials, only bloodier.
If you possessed magic, it equated to a death sentence. The gods were our enemies. My enemy.
The Lamia rose to her feet and followed the youngsters.
It was time for me to play the role of bait.
I may have been twenty-two, but I looked younger, and I was on my own.
I maintained my distance as I trailed her past the British Museum and headed towards Russell Square.
I walked breezily past the demon and shoulder-bumped her. I heard her hiss.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ I flashed a broad smile and turned down a dark alleyway. She followed, about thirty paces behind. Bingo.
‘Young girl,’ she hummed.
I slowed, every muscle tensing. Suddenly, she was only feet away from me.
I could feel her breath lifting my hair—it reeked of rotting flesh.
My heart jackhammered against my ribs as I reached down, slow and silent, unclipping the thigh sheath beneath my leather duster.
Nestled against my leg, my divine blade waited—sleek and deadly.
Its double-edged black blade gleamed, set into a hilt of rich golden metal with a smooth grip carved from blue crystal.
Ancient runes shimmered along its length, pulsing faintly with magic.
It was priceless. Beautiful. My most treasured possession.
‘May I help you?’ I turned slowly. My gag reflex triggered and my latte almost reappeared.
She had taken her true form, and man, she was fugly.
A human torso and, from the waist down, a snake—a big-ass snake.
Lamias have sharp, pointed, retractable teeth that extend beyond the human teeth, as well as razor-sharp claws that could inject lethal poison. They were not to be messed with.
‘You can,’ her voice hissed, a smile revealing her fangs.
‘Look, Medusa. I’m so not in the mood for this.
I just need to get home. So I’m gonna kick your ass.
’ As I slipped out the divine blade, I smiled back at her.
The dagger was all I needed; it could harm and kill anything supernatural, including gods, which was why so few blades remained.
Most had been destroyed, along with my brethren.
She lurched forward and grasped a handful of my hair, wrenching my head to the side, but instinct propelled me into action.
I was like a ninja—quick and agile. I twisted and delivered a spinning kick, which connected with her jaw, snapping her head back.
She grunted and jerked backwards, ripping out several strands of hair, and pain flared across my scalp.
‘Bitch!’ I snarled.
I rushed at her, but her tail snapped into action as my blade arced upward, knocking it from my grasp. It went skittering across the ground.
Mother-tucker.
My eyes popped wide, and she laughed, licking her lips. ‘I can’t wait to get you to my lair. You’re a feisty one,’ her voice slithered.
I eyed my dagger—I wasn’t going down without a fight, and there was no cat in hell’s chance of me returning to her place.
It definitely wouldn’t be a wine-and-movie girly night.
When people inexplicably vanished into thin air, it was usually due to a demon attack.
Demons were integrated into our community, and this one was cunning.
Unease spread through me like a choking vine.
I sprang forward and used a teep—a brutal kick to the head—which caused her to howl, her head snapping back with enough force to break a neck.
As she lunged at me, I flipped over her and dove for my dagger, but that tail whipped me like a bitch.
It lifted me off my feet, and I collided with a wall, cracking my skull.
Fiery pain exploded along my nerve endings, black spots darkening my vision.
Shit. Shit. Shitting shit.
I crawled towards my blade as she snaked towards me. I was so going to gut this bitch.
‘I would not do that if I were you.’ The voice cut through the air—strange, powerful, and disturbingly familiar. It held the promise of pain.
We both froze.
I looked up and saw him. He stood over twenty feet tall, a towering figure forged from shadows, shifting and crackling with restrained violence.
I lunged for my blade, then held it up towards both of them as the Lamia backed away, choking on fear.
Whatever he was, he wasn’t mortal—and definitely not just another demon.
He radiated dominance. Power. He was likely more dangerous than the Lamia.
I was so screwed.
The man of shadows turned to me, and I sucked in air. I glimpsed a flash of eyes—eyes of pure gold—and ice lodged in my throat. I recognised those eyes. My mind was hazy… I needed to try to summon my dark magic—but something inside me… froze.
‘What mess have you got yourself into?’ His voice was a dangerous purr—silken, sharp, and threaded with judgment. He tutted, almost amused. He was power made flesh, and every instinct I had screamed at me to run.
I was scared shitless.
His huge, hulking form took shape in the moonlight, reducing in size but still over six and a half feet, and my heart almost stopped beating.
My eyes travelled up, up, and up. He was big.
He was also mind-bendingly beautiful. As he gazed at me, his eyes turned cerulean blue with a ring of gold encircling the black pupils, and something flickered in those eyes—something akin to melancholy.
I felt dizzy and sick. Those eyes… sparked a memory—a memory that was like mist slipping through my fingers. I stared at him like a total creeper, unable to tear my eyes away.
He possessed a vicious beauty—a sculptured, breathtaking face, hair as black as night tied at the nape of his neck, and a covering of short, dark stubble lined his chiselled jaw.
The black shirt stretched across his muscled chest, and his long, ripped legs stood slightly apart.
I’d seen nothing as beautiful yet equally chilling.
A strange tugging in my chest, as if a part of me was drawn to him, sent goosebumps racing over my skin. A ball of dread in my stomach inched up my throat, threatening to suffocate me.
The pounding of my heart rang in my ears. Maybe you’re having a cardiac event? my befuddled brain said to me.
‘Are you alright?’ The demon’s eyes narrowed, studying me with unnerving intensity. His voice struck something inside me—strangely familiar, like a memory brushing just out of reach.
‘Mhm,’ I squeaked.
‘And you’—he turned back to the Lamia—‘have displeased me… greatly.’
‘Your Highness.’ The Lamia trembled, her jaw slack.
I attempted to summon my magic, the magic I wedged deep within me; I felt it bubbling, and his head whipped around as he squinted at me. ‘Don’t.’ The magic inside me fizzled out—I was so gonna die.
The stranger raised his arm, and a tattoo lifted from his skin, floating through the air and dropping to the ground. It transformed into a mass—a gigantic mass—of a dog with three heads. My brain seemed to have slowed down completely. It wouldn’t process what was happening.
‘Oh my God,’ I croaked.
‘Gods.’ A sardonic smile twisted his lips, sending a shudder through me.
The dog’s heads were almost as tall as I was, and it was brutal.
Its fur was the colour of obsidian, and when six blood-red eyes turned my way…
I whimpered softly. My heart hammered in my ears, making my head swim with fright, but the three heads cocked to the side as they studied me, and as those crimson eyes left me and swung back to study the Lamia, I swallowed thickly.
The Lamia let out a small screech, quivered, and raised her arms in surrender.
Holy fucktarts.
I took that as my cue to leave. I struggled to my feet and ran.