Page 3 of Tortured Soul (Soulless #1)

Lola

W hen Lucifer mentioned a camp, I was expecting a dirty place covered with tents and miserable people.

Not that the people were dirty—in fact I could barely see them from the window at the top of the tower I’d been stashed in—but in the middle of a desert surrounded by ruins, dirt and dust was everywhere.

Safe to say that I was definitely not picturing a whole ass town surrounded by thick and high fortifications.

A fancy post-apocalyptic city in a medieval fortress of some sorts. In the middle of the Arizona desert. Lovely .

It’s been almost an hour since I was led upstairs by the—not so friendly—Hellriser. He did nothing as I stumbled twice on the steps. He chuckled when my covered face collided with the wooden door and I almost fell backward, only stopped by his body behind mine.

“You’re a clumsy one,” he had said, leaning over me to open the door with what sounded like a key. “Try not to break your own neck.”

And then he’d pushed me inside the room, locking the door behind me.

Here I thought he was the nicest of them all, when he was just as much of a rude asshole as his Divine friend.

At least this time my hands were free and I was able to catch myself on some kind of furniture in front of me.

I stayed quiet and still for a while before I realized that I was alone in here and took the pillowcase off my own head to drop it on the floor.

For an hour I’ve circled the room, studying the town outside the window, scanning the sparse equipment in the dusty space.

Some old wooden chairs and a single table in the middle, a damaged brown leather couch under the window, a large dirty persian rug covering almost the whole wooden floor .

It all screamed “meeting room for people you don’t really want to meet.”

There was still no coffee in my hands but at least I was not in a dungeon or a cell…Small victories.

I climbed on the old couch, kneeling on the too-soft cushions to look out the window again.

People were walking around, alone or in small groups.

Some were wearing some kind of black, menacing uniform.

Were they guards? Did they have their own army?

Their faces were covered by black raven helmets with a long, sharp beak, resembling the one that we used to see during the plague.

Weapons were sheathed around their waists, legs, or even arms.

Considering the fact that all of them were Immortals and had various ranks, powers, and abilities, if they also carried weapons they were definitely not people to mess with.

Horror surged through me at the thought that the ones who brought me here could have been some of them.

That I’ve been acting like a brat to Immortal beings, possibly much stronger than me, who had the means to beat me up without breaking a sweat.

Maybe it was a good thing that my fellow demon got involved before Carter completely lost it.

Was it my fault for being a pain in the ass? Probably. Will I ever be able to refrain from being one? Didn’t think I could. Not my fault the guy had a temper.

As a Succubus, I’ve learned a long time ago that respect was not easy to obtain, especially from the Divines. If I was being manhandled or disrespected and being polite was not enough, any angel would leave me alone if I started being flirty or handsy.

Today was another proof of that.

I asked him to lessen his hold as I wasn’t planning to run away, but he didn’t listen, choosing instead to hurt me a little more. I didn’t like rubbing myself on beings who were not willing, but at least, playing horny usually made unwilling Immortals—alright, mostly Divines—back off.

A necessary evil. Something I did a lot and found working most of the time. Something I wouldn’t hesitate to do again.

The sun was starting its slow descent in the sky and the view from my lonely tower was absolutely exquisite.

The blue turned darker as the moon and stars started to shine high above. The mixture of orange, pink, and purple nearing the horizon made the town look eerie as it lit it up through the small windows and large front gates adorning the thick and high fortification walls.

Fewer people walked the streets but, from my tower, I could see them regrouping near a large park in the middle of a square, surrounded by what seemed to be restaurants and bars.

This place looked nothing like a survival camp; it was a whole-ass fortified city. Beautiful, at that.

But could someone die from boredom?

There was only so much I could do and think about to pass the time.

Half an hour ago, people had been coming and going through the front gates in panic, but I could barely see anything from my spot.

I’d seen people running past and heard some crying and shouting a few streets away, but it all went quiet quickly, leaving me wondering what had happened.

My stomach grumbled and an annoyed sigh escaped me. How long were they planning to keep me here? It was barely ten in the morning when I went through the barrier and the sun was nearing the horizon now.

If they had a mandatory twelve to twenty-four hours quarantine rule for newcomers, the polite thing to do would have been to at least inform me.

I was sprawled on the sofa, playing with a strand of my own hair when the wooden door opened with a loud squeak.

My whole body tensed as I jumped and fought my fight or flight instinct.

It was not the fact that seven Immortals were now standing between me and the door—six of them wearing those terrifying crow helmets—that made me want to claw my way out.

No, it was the one man whose face was uncovered.

The man whose height towered above the others.

The man— Immortal man—whose mismatched blue and black narrowed eyes were stormy and ice cold at the same time as he studied me.

The Immortal whose inky hair was disheveled enough that it looked like he either just got out of bed or had run his hands through it a thousand times.

The man whose pointed ears peeked from between those wild strands.

Pointed ears that marked him as the first of his demon kind just like my hidden ones told that I was the first of mine.

The sudden burst of anxiety made my hand instinctively reach for my hair, checking that it was still covering the tips.

There was a problem though; I couldn’t tell what kind of demon he was.

I wasn’t even sure he really was one. After all, everyone knew eye color was a visible sign for any Immortal.

Blue eyes were exclusively Divine, except if he had shapeshifting abilities (like every Succubus or Incubus).

Demons had brown to black eyes. Earthwalkers could have any color, but there were always gold flecks in them.

Not to mention Nephilims were another story altogether…

And those eyes of his? They were terrifying.

An Immortal’s origin could be smelled like some kind of perfume. Seen in their eyes in the way they gleamed. Felt around them like a whole presence.

Other Immortals could tell what I was without me saying anything. They could identify what kind of Hellriser with just a glimpse, with my scent. They could feel it resonate in their bones, no matter what eye color I chose to wear.

But everything about that man was overwhelming. The scent of warm embers and mist mixed with cinnamon was highly confusing. The way his eyes were burning my skin and freezing my blood at the same time made my heart miss beats just to pump twice as fast in the next second.

He felt holy.

He felt like sin .

I felt like I either needed to light him on fire and run or jump his bones and ride him until I could barely breathe.

Highly confusing.

We stared each other down for long uncomfortable seconds—or was it minutes?

I couldn’t tell. Every time I moved he shifted, ready to pounce.

But every time he shifted or tilted his head at me, I felt like adjusting my stance to escape quicker.

From the other Immortals’ point of view, it must have looked like a weird and awkward intimidation dance.

“Did you get lost?” he drawled.

Goosebumps erupted on my skin as I fought the shudder climbing up my spine. His voice was low. Cold. Then why was my skin burning all of a sudden?

“I did not.”

His eyes narrowed a little more, so much that I could hardly see the blue in his right eye anymore.

“How did you find us?”

“GPS coordinates.”

“Given by whom?”

I refrained from shifting on my legs. “If this place was as much of a secret as you seem to think, I wouldn’t have been given said coordinates.”

“You’re not answering the question.”

I gritted my teeth. What a stubborn ass .

“You’re not getting an answer.”

“Then you’re not leaving this room.”

My hands turned to fists against my thighs and I focused on the pain of my nails digging into my palms, grounding me. Deep breaths .

He slid his hands in his dark jeans’ pockets, the motion making his muscles ripple under his simple black T-shirt. Being that hot while wearing such casual clothes should be forbidden.

“Look , ” I started, “I’m not here to cause problems. I’ve come here because I was freed from my contract a week ago and I’ve already been attacked twice. I’m just looking for someplace safe where I can start to live for myself after centuries of—”

“Fucking people to their damnation?” he rudely interrupted.

“Centuries of service ,” I corrected him through my teeth. “And to be honest with you, the whole discrimination toward succubi is getting old.”

He shrugged, inspecting his nails casually. “Is it? Was it not an Incubus who was to blame for the start of the war?”

I groaned as my whole body vibrated with annoyance. “Yeah, I know. Males, right? Always fucking it up for the rest of us. ”

I tried to keep my tone light, teasing, but the expression on his face didn’t soften.

“Can’t incubi change their form to female and vice versa?”