Seven devils, p.1
Seven Devils, page 1
SEVEN DEVILS
Blood Falls World
ELEMENTS OF EVIL
BOOK I
INDIA AMARE
CONTENTS
Also By India Amare
Chapter 1
The Past is Prologue…
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
Also By India Amare
Queens and Monsters
About the Author
Seven Devils
Copyright © 2023 By India Amare
All rights reserved.
Cover design by India Amare
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ALSO BY INDIA AMARE
The Blood Falls Series
Queens and Monsters
Kings and Sirens
Virgins and Vampires
Nightmares & Daydreams
Psychic Dreams Trilogy
In the Shadows Deep
Where Demons Dwell
And Destiny Weeps
Elements of Evil Trilogy
Seven Devils
Seven Sins
Devil’s Due
The Blood Falls Erotica
Carnal Cravings:
Blood Moon Rising
Blood Moon Eclipse
Bitten By Love
Sign-up for the newsletter
Join us on:
TikTok
TheBloodFalls.com
CHAPTER 1
THE PAST IS PROLOGUE…
Seamus
The Cottage
Nicknames were fun. I loved giving them out. Fucking loved when someone took it as the compliment it was. I didn’t usually give them much thought. Something in the back of my brain was in charge of that information. I spit out whatever it served, and it was usually something perfect.
But Florence Figueroa didn’t appreciate my brilliance.
And the more I teased her, the worse the nicknames got. And for some reason—fuck if I knew why—the more upset she got, the more I pushed the envelope.
She stood there in a strange house, cute little jeans and tiny sexy sweater covering what I was sure was most likely a spectacular body underneath. Not that she’d ever let me anywhere near it.
“Stop calling me that!”
“Why, sweetheart?” Fuck, I just had to push, didn’t I?
Fire blazed in her eyes. “Do you even remember my name?”
Florence. Fig for short, not that I liked that very much. It made me think of Fig Newtons. Maybe that's why I kept pushing for a nickname. Well, one that wasn’t a fruit. “Princess, I know exactly what your name is, what day you were born on, and which kind of flower you prefer in a bouquet.” Shit. Why did I say that?
She blinked. “What?”
I pointed at myself. “Bodyguard, remember?”
“Why do you need to know my…birth date?”
I shrugged pretending to look bored when really I was anything but. I knew that Rain was in the shower and Kris was checking the wards on the perimeter of the property. There were four squirrels in the first tree past the front door, twelve deer on the slope near the river, and a small bear just on the other side of the river.
And no, not a bear shifter. Just a regular old, damned bear.
I also knew Fig’s heart rate was ten beats faster than normal, her pupils were dilated, and she couldn’t stop fidgeting.
“I like to know everything possible.”
Her eyes narrowed, another challenge on the tip of her sharp tongue. “Well? What’s my birth date?”
“March 11th.”
Her nostrils flared. I was right. She hated that I was right. Probably because she hated me. For a few minutes she liked me. While her best friend Wils was hurt we became friends. She trusted me. Confided in me. Then I fucked up.
And now she hated me and didn’t believe anything I said unless I backed it up with three forms of proof. Fucking exhausting. And it made keeping her safe a nightmare. Mostly because she refused to listen to reason. Refused to listen to me. Nothing I said mattered. It didn’t matter that it was a mistake. A stupid, silly mistake.
One strike and you’re out with Florence.
“Am I right or not, slugger?” I figured the baseball reference was worth a try, all things considered.
“You’re right.” She crossed her arms and finally looked around Kris and Rain’s cottage. This would be her sanctuary while Wils and Vic figured out how to stop Samantha from…doing whatever Samantha wanted to do.
I felt bad for Wils. Her family was shit. I knew the feeling well.
But then again, my good-for-nothing brother never came back from the dead. He just walked off into the sunset, never to be seen again. Didn’t matter that he was all I had left. Didn’t matter that I had no one to raise me. I wasn’t even at the Age of Maturity.
Whatever. I didn’t need to think about that shit. I had a job to do. One job only: keep Florence safe.
“You want to see your room?”
She nodded once.
Good enough. I started for the stairs. I didn’t live here but I helped with some of the renovations. And when I came by to ask about bunking here, they showed me where we’d stay. The cottage was pretty simple. A nice living space downstairs, kitchen, and dining room. There was a small room that had served as their bedroom while we remodeled upstairs. Now Kris and Rain had a nice suite upstairs. Fig would get the guest room while I took the old bedroom downstairs.
“This is nice,” she said, looking around. I dropped the last of her bags by the dresser.
“You should have everything you need. Extra blankets and pillows in the closet, towels are laid out in the bathroom.” I liked these moments. The soft moments when Fig wasn’t mad at me.
She nodded, ran a hand over the blanket, and sighed. “Thank you for bringing me here. I’m sorry I get so…”
“Mad?”
She shot me a look. “Cross.”
Same difference, but semantics mattered to Florence. “I don’t mind. Your life has been tossed out on the lawn.”
She groaned. “It really has, hasn’t it?”
“It has. So if you need to lash out, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got plenty to lash.” I hadn’t meant it as anything other than a way of suggesting I could take it.
But her eyes flared as they traveled over my body.
Interesting.
“Well, I appreciate your understanding.”
Polite was my least favorite Fig. “We were friends there for a while. Remember?”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “We weren’t friends. We were stuck caring for the people we cared about and shared some…emotions.”
Liar. She let me hold her while she cried. Wiped away her tears when she confessed her fears. Sat up late at night with me eating ice cream and laughing over old stories. She told me about her life and I told her about mine.
And then I fucked up.
One strike, baby.
I wanted to box her out. Put that raw feeling she gave me when she was like this away where I didn’t have to feel it. But if there was a chance to fix this…
I stepped closer, lowering my head and my voice. “I don’t have a built-in lie detector, so I can’t call you out like Wils can, but you’re fucking lying.”
Her eyes flew to mine. But she didn’t pull out a new insult. In fact, she looked ashamed. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes you are.” I stepped closer, bringing our bodies within touching distance. “I know you are, because I was there too. You opened up to me. Trusted me.”
“And look where that got me,” she bit out.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, Florence.”
Her jaw thrust forward and she crossed her arms, but she didn’t deny it.
“I make one simple mistake. Something I didn’t even know was wrong, and you punish me for the rest of time?”
She simply stared. I had a feeling that Fig wasn’t used to getting pushback.
Interesting. “I’m sorry. I said it before and I’ll say it however many times you need to hear it. I’m sorry for violating your trust. I didn’t know it was a secret. You tell Wils everything. I will never share anything you tell me in confidence ever again.”
She looked away. “I appreciate that.”
“But I’m still an asshole?” Unbelievable. “I shared things with you too. Trusted you. Still do.”
“Your secrets are safe with me,” she whispered, her voice wavering.
“Are they? Your anger won’t make you punish me? Tit for tat?” I knew she wouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to keep pushing.
She glared up at me. The fire back and burning. “I’m not like that! Not like…” She snapped her jaw shut.
I stepped back wishing I could hide how much that hurt, but I knew it was already written all over my face. “Like me? Got it. Noted. Have a good night, angel face. Sweet dreams and all that. If you need me I’ll be downstairs.”
Her hand shot out, grabbing my bicep. I stared at her hand, shocked and excited she was touching me. “I’m sorry. I’m…” She ripped her hand away, ran it through her hair, and paced in a circle. “I’m not myself. I can’t seem to pull it together.”
And I was the closest and easiest punching bag. I gently placed my hands on her shoulders and turned her to face me. “And I told you I can take it.” I shrugged for emphasis. “But I do wish you’d lay off the sharper knives. Those suckers hurt.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked away.
That was enough for now. “I mean it. Sleep well. I hope you don’t dream. And if you need anything, I’m just downstairs.”
“Thank you, Seamus.”
Hey, at least she didn’t call me Asshole.
I worked it out with Kris. I’d take midnight to dawn so he could sleep beside Rain each night. He’d take a morning shift so I could get some shuteye. We’d split the rest.
Truth was I liked the night. People were quiet but animals were not. They were kind of my thing. It took me a few years to realize not everyone was constantly aware of the location of every animal within a mile or so. It was comforting to track their movements, their needs and desires. They were simpler than humans and samhain. It was easier to know where I stood.
Nothing like the confusing part-human-part-samhain pixie upstairs. Fuck she annoyed the shit out of me, but damn was it fun to get under her skin. Maybe it was the stress of the last couple of years—fuck, the last ten years—but being around Fig got me excited. I never knew which version of her I would get. And even when she lashed out at me, it was with cute, adorable frustration, not the angry, self-loathing hatred I knew all too well.
I meant it when I told her I could take it. All she was doing was letting her frustrations boil over. Totally understandable frustrations. She didn’t mean to hurt me. Well, not detrimentally. I was pretty sure her sharper barbs were meant to match my over-the-top teasing. So really, I was asking for it. Least I could do was take the blows and let them glance off me.
Especially if it helped her deal with the fact that her life wasn’t her own right now. Fuck, that would piss me off to no end. If I were her, I’d be burning down the mountainside.
I preferred being outside, so I set up on the porch, sinking into one of the deep Adirondack chairs and putting my boots up on the railing. The moon hung high in the sky but because of the layers of protection around this place, it had a different shimmer than I was used to. Stars blanketed the sky between the wisps of clouds that sped between the mountains. The crickets didn’t mind the wards. They chirped away like it was their job to provide my night with a soundtrack. An owl settled into the tree to my right, carefully watching me with his night vision.
All was well. I closed my eyes and let my senses take over. Rain and Kris were asleep. Good for them. So was Fig. Princess. Sweetheart. Firecracker.
What to call her? Fig simply wasn’t going to make the cut. Not for me. Wils took to Small Fry like a duck to water. And the way she smiled every time I called it out did things to my heart. Vic was my brother. Didn’t matter that we didn’t have the same parents. We were technically cousins, but life had made us brothers. And now Wils was the closest thing I had to a sister.
And that felt…good.
Why couldn’t I find a nickname for Florence?
My mind filled with muffled whimpers—and not the sexy kind. The miserable kind. I shot to my feet. And then her scream filled the air. My heart turned to ice. Florence. I blinked straight up to her room, fuck the stairs or doors or anything else between us.
I found her sitting in the middle of her bed shaking. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I scanned the room for the problem, but it was empty. No ghosts, no monsters, no Samantha.
Her big eyes reflected the moonlight, her pupils blown with fear. I didn’t hesitate. I went to her side and pulled her against me. Fuck her anger. She needed to be held. Thankfully she melted into me. She wore an oversized t-shirt that was completely soaked through, so were the sheets and pillows.
She was fucking terrified. And that killed me. Fucking broke my heart. No one deserved to be haunted this way. “Dream?”
She nodded furiously, tears still streaming down her face. “They’re always so awful. They never stop.” She started trembling. “But this was…”
I needed to get her out of this bed. I blinked us downstairs to my room, leaving her only long enough to grab one of my shirts. “Here. It’s dry.” Then I turned around to give her privacy.
“Thank you.” When I turned back she had her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, head resting on her knees.
“No worries.” I wanted to hold her again. Make sure she felt safe. But I also wanted her to recover however she needed to. “Want to talk about it?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. So hard I thought she might hurt herself. “Not really.”
“What can I do?”
“Get me really drunk?” she joked. Mostly.
“Firecracker, I would in a heartbeat if I thought it would actually help. I bet you’re a lot of fun when you’re partying.”
Her head came up, resting her chin on her knees, eyes open. “Firecracker?”
I shrugged. It just might work.
“I don’t hate that one. But…why?”
I took a chance and sat on the corner of the bed. She didn’t kick me off. “Why a nickname or why firecracker?”
“Both?”
I loved that I had her quiet attention, that she was speaking to me again. Fuck, how I missed those nights in the Shadow. They had felt more real than anything ever had. I wasn’t alone, fending for myself, or playing a part to keep in the good graces of someone else. When we sat up those nights I was just…me.
“It’s just something I’ve always done.”
“Why?”
Normally I’d walk away from someone asking these sorts of questions because it forced me to examine things about my past I’d rather not. But for Florence… “I don’t really know. I think maybe…” Shit. Was I really doing this? “Maybe it helps me see where I stand with people. Wils is Small Fry because—”
“She’s short and like a sister.”
I held very still. “Yeah.”
“And you call me all these condescending nicknames because I’m so awful to you.”
No. “Maybe?”
“What does Firecracker say about us?” she asked, her voice barely more than a sexy little whisper.
The words slipped out before I could stop them. “That you’re a gorgeous, explosive, pain in my ass that I love watching to see what you do next.” Fuck.
Her eyes widened, shining with something I really hoped was excitement. “Oh.”
Fucking hell she was beautiful when she let down the walls. Would I ever convince her to leave them down? Doubtful. “We’re stuck here together. I sure would appreciate it if you’d at least try to not hate me.”
She looked away, staring at the wall. “Why are you here?”
That…wasn’t what I was expecting her next question to be. “I’m your bodyguard.”
She glared at me. The fire back and the walls up. “Is it because Vic asked you? Because of your great sense of duty? Do you have a hero complex? Why are you here, Seamus?”
I shot off the bed. Fuck, she could piss me off faster than anyone I’d ever met. I was here, protecting her, holding her after nightmares, and she thought I had a damned hero complex? I spun around. “Listen here, pixie. Listen good, since you seem to have a hard time hearing things that don’t match your perfect little narrative.” The insult landed just the way I wanted it to. “I’m here because I’m the best person to protect you. Period. Not Vic. Not Kris. Not fucking Draygus Wren. Me. And not just because I’m a damn good fighter or an excellent shadow dealer. I’m the best because I fucking care what happens to you!” Shit. It was all out there now.
