The Forsaken by Laura Thalassa
Chapter 1
I plummeted from the sky like a fallen angel. Except for maybe the fact that I was screaming like a banshee. Doubt any celestials fell with as little grace as I did. The wind snatched my shrieks away and shoved air down my throat.
I cannot believe this is happening.
I gripped Andre’s hand tightly in my own. We hadn’t let go of one another since we jumped from the jet. Already our plane was a small bead of light moving farther away from us with every passing second. It would land, and the House of Keys, the supernatural world’s governing body, would descend on it like carrion to a kill. It would only take minutes more for them to realize we were not onboard.
We’d bought ourselves hours at most before the hunt resumed. And this time the monster that the Politia hunted was me.
Because they thought I was the Anti-Christ.
Needless to say, I wasn’t having the best day.
Even with the light of the moon and my night vision, it was difficult to make out the geography beneath us. The land below glowed enough to alert me that Andre and I wouldn’t be touching down in a body of water—thank God. Other than that, it was a crapshoot where we ended up—it could be anywhere between Romania, where we left from, and the Isle of Man.
Andre drifted closer to me and wrapped a hand around my parachute’s cord. For a second we stared at each other, long enough for me to read Andre’s intention from his face. With the wind howling in my ears, this was the closest we came to speaking. He gave the cord a yank, and my hand was savagely ripped from his as my parachute unfurled.
My hand didn’t like that. It wanted him as close as possible.
I drifted down, the night air freezing against my face. God, I’d been so cold since Andre revived me from Bran Castle. At least, worst-case scenario, hell would be a nice vacation from this God-awful chill that had set in my bones.
I saw Andre’s parachute open beneath me, and some part of me relaxed, until I realized that I was drifting away from him. There must be a way to navigate this parachute, but fuck it if I knew how to do it. So I let the wind carry me where it might.
A tree broke my fall. I smashed into its branches and jerked to a stop, my body dangling nearly ten feet above the ground.
My breath came out in sharp pants. The only other noise was the groan of my straps and the tree limbs holding me up.
With shaky hands I unsnapped myself, and my freed body plummeted once more.
I hit the ground in a crouch. All around me, as far as I could see, trees stood like dark sentinels.
Another fucking forest.
Seemed I’d only just extricated myself from the one in Romania. I straightened and rubbed my numb hands together, my breath misting in front of me. Stretching my hearing out, I listened for signs of Andre.
Instead my skin prickled. Something out there in the darkness watched me.
“Consort.”
My shoulders tensed as the voice whispered in my ear. Something did watch me. The very something I ran from.
The devil—Pluto—stepped out from the darkness. He looked like a dark prince in this place, the shadows curling and clinging to the edges of him. It might just be my imagination, but they seemed to wrap around his head like a wicked corona. For all his evil, his otherworldliness was breathtaking.
The entire supernatural world was after me—the good guys, the bad guys, and those with ambiguous motives—and they all wanted me dead thanks to the being in front of me.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
After I’d gone back on my deal, he’d released every secret and dark deed of mine to the news. Every. Single. One. The supernatural community now knew I’d led to the extermination of vampires, and more importantly, they knew I was destined to join the devil.
The devil’s unholy presence seemed to slither up my legs, through my hair, and into my mouth, like it was a living, breathing thing. Like it craved my company.
His eyes glittered. “A woman of few words. You’re rarer than the white whale. I truly have been fated to a covetous thing.”
“We are not fated.”
“Come, consort,” said Pluto. “I’ve laid you in my bed, touched your bare skin with my fingers, spoke of eternity with you. Enough with the lies. We are beyond that with one another, are we not?”
“Gabrielle!” Andre’s voice trickled in from far away.
I opened my mouth to call back to him. As soon as I did so, my lungs constricted. I reached for my throat choking on words I couldn’t force out. My eyes moved to the devil.
He tilted his head, studying me like I was fascinating. When I glared at him accusingly, a corner of his mouth curled up.
Stop it, I mouthed, because I couldn’t seem to actually voice the words.
Now both corners of the devil’s mouth lifted, and his eyes glittered. “What makes you think I’m the one doing this to you? I can’t kill you in this form,” he said, running his hands down the fine fabric of his suit.
My sight dimmed at the lack of oxygen even as my skin flared up. I guess the siren in me thought she had a better chance of getting us out of this situation than I did.
I blinked several times. The last thing I wanted was to be blind in the devil’s presence. Through my hazy vision I thought I saw him frown. He flicked a hand and released me.
My lungs expanded, and I fell to my knees, gasping for air.
He crouched by my side. “It’s going to be like this until you’re mine.”
“And then it will be worse,” I said, my voice raspy.
“Gabrielle!” Andre’s voice was much closer.
The devil swiveled his head at the sound, his expression inscrutable. “Come with me,” he said, returning his attention to me. “Tonight. Right now.”
He leaned towards me, far too close. Close enough to know that he smelled of burnt souls, that his skin had no pores, that his eyes moved and shifted as though firelight lit them from behind. They did so even now.