Page 1 of A Daemon’s Alliance (Daemons & Lumens)

Tibby

M y fingers flew across the keys, searching for data to back up the intel I just received.

My stepfather was in the United States. Sweat coated the back of my neck, and I wanted to vomit.

I hated that he still had such a visceral effect on me.

And I hated that he was still alive. How the fuck he got all the way to this country without my knowing about it pissed me off.

I was more than just a hacker. My coding skills and ability to dig behind firewalls and anything else the tech gurus could conjure up were second to none.

I wasn’t cocky about much, but this was my domain.

Someone managed to hide my stepfather’s movements for two whole weeks, and now he was here.

After seeing his name on a list of Obscuritas members, I started paying closer attention.

He woke up from the stupid coma, and then he disappeared.

He landed in Salem two days ago. He was staying at an Airbnb close to some of the witchy landmarks the town was famous for.

He was so close. Too close. I itched to call Seraphina and tell her, but for some reason, I paused.

She was with them . The Princes. She was always with them.

They did kidnap her, so it wasn’t like she went totally willingly.

I was trying—and failing—not to be jealous.

This was part of the plan, though, even if it happened in a slightly different manner than we originally planned.

She had to get close to them. And it wasn’t the first time she had slept with a mark either.

Sometimes we had to do gross things to get what we needed.

But this felt different. When I listened in on Dev eating her pussy like it was the most decadent dessert he had ever had, and she had a real fucking orgasm, I knew things were different.

Just thinking about it made me horny all over again.

And I definitely wasn’t going to admit how many times I listened to that audio. I was so fucked up.

Voyeurism was obviously a kink for me, but telling Seraphina I fucked my own hand while listening to her moan for an Obscuritas Prince was out of the question. I should tell someone, though, maybe a therapist.

There wasn’t time for therapy. Not when we were in deep cover and now my stupid stepfather was here distracting me.

I glanced at the half-packed duffle bag sitting on my bed.

When my facial recognition software alerted me that he was here, I started packing immediately.

There were two small blades, a gun with a silencer, and a high-voltage taser next to the duffle bag.

My fingers paused on the keys as I stared at the weapons.

Could I do this? Could I sneak up on him and end his life on my own?

I could. I deserved this. And he deserved a nasty death for the abuse against me and my mother.

My mother was only seventeen when she had me.

Her parents kicked her out for being a whore.

She was lost and alone on the streets with a newborn.

My stepfather, Arthur Nelson, found us at a fast food place.

He bought her food and said nice things. I wish I could be mad at her for it.

My stepfather liked teens, and she was too easy for him to pluck off the streets. He fed us, clothed us, even got a nanny to take care of me. But that was mostly for his benefit, so my mother was free of me and useful to him.

Until I was about seven years old, I thought my life was okay.

I loved my nanny, and while my mother was not around often, she tried to look happy when she was with me.

But on one of the days when she was gone, my curious mind finally got me into trouble, the kind no one recovered from.

When a person witnesses something so horrible, the dark thoughts never go away.

My stepfather wanted people to watch what he did to the girls he caught in his web of depravity.

I figured this out while playing with toys in my room.

I heard sounds coming from my closet. When I slipped inside, I found a little peephole carved out with a window.

On the other side, I saw a room I’d never been in before.

My stepfather was there with a girl, and it was not my mother.

She was gagged and tied to a bed, and he was touching her, doing things to her I didn’t fully understand.

I started watching him through that peephole almost every night.

I didn’t realize until years later that he obviously planned for that to happen.

I couldn’t help the reaction I had to it, and I hated thinking about my stepfather every time it happened.

Now, I had a love-hate relationship with my desire to watch others.

A half empty bottle of bourbon sat next to my computer, and I took a long swig. Yeah. He had to die.

Before I could think about it too much, I was racing down the highway in an unmarked car toward his Airbnb.

It was about 2 a.m. now, very little traffic and even less light under the cloudy, moonless sky.

I parked the car several houses down. I wore all black clothing and comfortable combat boots with little knives hidden on the sides.

My white-blonde hair was covered under a dark-brown wig.

My natural hair was short, a choppy pixie cut.

I kept it this way because I liked wearing wigs and pretending to be someone else.

Tonight I was just going for “inconspicuous cat burglar.”

I stalked closer to the small house and picked the lock at the back door. There were cameras, but of course I had disabled them already. I loved the smart homes with all the digital tech. It was almost too easy to hack.

I studied the blueprint before coming, so even in the dark I knew where to go.

The master bedroom was closer to the front, adjacent to the living area.

The newer floors didn’t creak beneath my light steps, and it was easy enough to move down the hall without making a sound.

I quietly pulled the gun from my bag. When I stepped into the room, he snored loudly and rolled over.

The blankets were thrown back enough to reveal his toned chest. My stepfather always slept in the nude.

He wasn’t ugly, which was probably why he lured so many women in so easily.

His tanned chest rose and fell slowly as he slept.

His brown hair was mussed, and his eyes fluttered while he dreamt.

I wasn’t sure how long I stared at him. Too long.

I stalked closer to the bed and slowly pulled down the blankets to reveal his naked body.

I pointed the gun at his soft dick. I hated it.

Hated that I knew what it looked like too intimately.

I pulled the trigger, and the gun fired, barely making a sound, but the mess was instant.

Blood squirted everywhere, and his dick was shredded by the bullet.

He screamed so loud I jumped back. His eyes were wide and full of pain.

Our gazes locked. Recognition and rage filled his dark eyes before he doubled over, cupping his bloody, ruined dick. I raised the gun again.

“I’m glad you’re awake. I wanted you to know it was me.” My voice shook with emotion, and he looked up at me with a snarl on his face. But I wasn’t afraid. I pulled the trigger and the bullet went through his skull, blood splattering on the wall and all over the bed once more.

It was finally over.

“Well,” a voice drawled from behind me, and I whipped around. “That was entertaining. You’re going to be very useful to me, Tabitha.”

Laszlo Blackbyrn’s lips turned up into a cruel smile.