Put it in Red:
by Nicola C. Matthews
© 2014 by Nicola C. Matthews
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
X-Isle United Press
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or to any other written publication is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover art by Bloody Feather Graphix Team
The demon prince smiled to himself. Of all the deals he had made over the eons, of all the souls he had reaped, he was enjoying this particular one more than any of those that had come before, even more than the deal that he struck with Cain.
“Master,” the small disembodied voice called to him, reminding him that the fun with Jaxon Monroe Warner was just beginning.
The demon prince turned from the pool of blood that swirled around inside the large chalice, the screams of his condemned souls a deepening stain on the backdrop of the darkened chamber.
“Onyonna,” the prince said as he turned to the swirling mist that hovered nearby, the wispy smoke the only remnants left of the century old soul. “It is time, my precious.”
The mist condensed itself, momentarily taking the vague shape of the young blonde blond girl that she had once been before she struck her own deal with the dark prince. Unable to contain the form for more than a few moments, the shape quickly disintegrated, once again returning to a vague, swirling wisp of ash gray vapor that hung in the air like a sad reminder of what had once been.
The prince laughed, the sound deep and dark, the demon very much enjoying the never-ending suffering that he caused the soul.
“They are near their hometowns now, my precious,” he said, dipping his hand into the chalice and swirling the contents around, the deep crimson turning black where his hand touched. “You should be able to find someone from their past that will allow you to get close to him.”
The prince withdrew his hand from the churning liquid, closing his fist around the thickening mass and crushing it into a powder. He pursed his perfectly sculpted lips, blowing the burnt powder into the lingering vapor that was Onyonna’s soul, strengthening the woman’s essence enough that she would be able to inhabit a corporal form.
“Go now, my darling,” he said. “It is time to begin the reaping of Jax’s soul.”
Onyonna’s strengthened core giggled, happy to do her master’s bidding. Overjoyed at the chance of being human again, even if it were only for a few short days, was the largest reward the dark prince would ever bestow upon any of his condemned souls. It was an honor and a privilege, and she had every intention of carrying out her instructions.
Still laughing happily, the intensified mist flew out of her master’s dark chamber, streaking upward to the surface, eager to find one who would welcome her possession.