Melkor & Purity: Book One Read online

  But Express Printing was on the ball…yeah, Express Printing was always on call. It just wasn’t the ones who made a lick of difference, it was always the workers, the ones who put their blood, sweat, and tears into the place who suffered the most.

  People like my dad.

  But now, they were expanding their offices, streamlining, was the word Dad said they used, and he was being replaced by someone half his age, with one fucking tenth of his experience—all in the name of greed.

  Let’s see how you like this, you greedy bastards…

  Paint spluttered from the nozzle and hissed with air. I relaxed my finger, and shook, listening to the rattle of the ball inside before I pressed once more.

  “Hurry,” Melkor growled.

  I glanced left along the building, to the empty streets. There were no security cameras, no one around at this time of the night, and I turned back to my artwork. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

  Thick streaks of black paint raced from the long lines to dribble against the stark white of the building. It wasn’t drying fast enough, even on a cold night like this.

  There. I dropped my hand and stepped back. “It’s done.”

  “Finally.”

  He stepped closer, his warmth brushed my arm. I wanted to turn into him, to feel a little of the fire glowing inside. Instead, I stared at the big black middle finger standing straight up. “I should’ve painted a cock.”

  Laughter burst into the air, followed by a snort. He always snorted when he laughed. “And how the Hell would you know what one looks like, anyway?”

  I thought for a moment. Pictures. Magazines. Hell, I was normal. “I look at stuff on the internet.”

  “Purity…you didn’t?” Shock radiated from his words.

  I couldn’t fight the smile any longer. The corners of my lips curled as I shook my head. “God, no. Why the Hell would I do something like that?”

  Red burned in the night as, for a second, he just stared at me as though he had something to say…and then thought better of it. “Damn right. You just remember it, Purity Jane Andersen.”

  The wail of a siren cut through the air. I jerked my gaze toward the sound. Red and blue flashed once before headlights swept across the sidewalk and right into my eyes.

  “Shit,” Melkor growled. He looked down to the spray paint in my hand and lunged forward, grasping the canister from my fingers. “Run!”

  I was frozen for a second, heart hammering…driving home all I’d done.

  It’d really happened.

  And I did it all.

  Melkor shoved me. “Purity, run!”

  I flinched with his roar, took one last look at him, before I whirled and ran. My boots slammed into the pavement as the voice over a bullhorn called out. “Hey! Stop running!”

  But there was no way I was stopping, not even if I wanted to. Momentum had me…gotta ease off on the mashed potatoes and gravy…hard breaths followed, tearing like wildfire through my throat.

  Steps pounded beside me. Melkor seemed to come out of nowhere.

  “I’m in so much trouble,” I gasped.

  His laughter was a slap in the wind.

  “You…you won’t be laughing when we share a cell together—in Hell.”

  The harsh bark turned into a roar. He shook his head and reached for my hand. Warm fingers clasped mine. There was something about him…something about this thing we did. I clenched my grip tighter as he spoke. “There’re no cells in Hell. Anyway, after you…Hell’s gonna be easy.”

  I smiled at him, smiled and hauled ass…as fast as a slightly overweight fifteen-year-old could. My lungs were on fire. My ankles screamed as we tore through the glare of a streetlight and caught the red and blue light fast approaching in front of us.

  Melkor’s steps slowed as, out of the glare, came a figure.

  A man, his face hidden by the shadows. He stepped into the glare and lifted his head.

  In a second, I forgot about the cop car in front of us…and the one on our tail.

  All I saw was him.

  The man who stood in the shadows, but who belonged to the dark.

  The Lord of Hell himself…Lucifer.

  Melkor’s steps slowed, dragging me like a brake. I couldn’t turn away, couldn’t look at the trouble behind us—all I saw was the Lord of Hell take a step closer, his focus on the Hellhound at my side.

  “Melkor,” he murmured, his voice rolling like thunder.

  His fingers clenched around mine, hot palm sweaty, still, I’d never let go.

  “My Lord?” Melkor whispered. “Is there something wrong?”

  Lucifer glanced toward me and, for a second, I was snatched from this moment with cops surrounding me and taken back to the moment when the Lord of Hell had stood at my door.

  He came to answer my letter, and left with a promise.

  The promise of a friend.

  My only friend.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Melkor’s hand clenched around mine. I held onto him. Held on with all the strength I had left.

  “Your sister is gravely ill. I’m sorry, son, but you need to come home.”

  Melkor turned toward me, and the Hellfire in his eyes spluttered out.

  Heavy footsteps echoed. Shadows descended with a jangle of keys and cuffs. “Police, don’t move!”

  But there was no one moving, no one turning…no one caring.

  “Purity,” Lucifer called my name, tearing me from my best friend’s gaze. “You need to get home now.”

  “I said…do…not…move! You’re under arrest!”

  Steel glinted as the cop strode into the light and reached for the Lord of Hell’s arm. There was a sickening, feral sound before Lucifer turned to glare at the officer. “Touch me, and I’ll tear your throat out.”

  The warning was all I needed. The cop stopped dead, staring, as Melkor’s hand slipped from mine.

  I wanted to lunge after him. I wanted to pull him closer. But he made for the cop, stepping into his path.

  I could see who he was then, as the Hellfire blazed blue, casting faint neon shadows on the ground. “Take one more step and see what Hell awaits you.”

  Melkor lifted his head, standing proudly and protectively in front of his Lord, ready to unleash Hell on earth. He was his father, was a warrior…a guardian…a Hellhound.

  “I…I…” The cop stuttered.

  “Go now, Purity,” Melkor murmured, never once taking his eyes from the officer. “I’ll come find you when I can.”

  I glanced from him to the Lord of Hell. Nothing like this had ever happened before, not in all the years we’d been friends. I took a step closer and then stilled. They didn’t want me here, not now…not when something was very wrong.

  I turned then, strode out into the darkness, leaving the glare of the streetlight behind once more, and then slowly worked my way into a jog.

  Voices came to me, snatches caught by the wind. But I couldn’t tell if they were Melkor’s or the Lord of Hell’s. All I knew was the desperation tore me apart. I wanted to turn around, be damned with the consequences. I wanted to be there, for Melkor…I wanted to be by his side.

  Your sister…is gravely ill.

  The words hit me. His deep, sober tone, carrying the weight of terrible news.

  My steps slowed and then stopped. My lips burned, legs felt like lead. I turned and searched for the glare of light far behind me.

  But they were gone.

  As though they were never there at all.

  “Where have you been?”

  Mom jerked her gaze toward me as I slipped through the doorway and eased it closed behind me. “Out.”

  “What do you mean, out?” Her shrill tone was like nails down a chalkboard.

  I winced. “Just…not tonight, okay?” And I made for the stairs.

  The leather sofa groaned as she unfurled her feet from under her and stood. She was ready for bed, dressed in a long pink flannel gown. I glanced at the clock…it was after eleven.

  She was waiting for me.

  She took a step, her gaze boring into me. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m just not feeling well.”

  I gripped the banister and hauled myself up the first stair, and then the next and the next.

  “I love you,” she called.

  “I love you,” I muttered, although I doubt she heard.

  I didn’t have the strength to say it again. I just stumbled for my doorway and slipped into my room.

  Shadows waited for me. Shadows and fear. I glanced toward the cracked open window. Would he come back for me, like he’d said he would? Or would he just stop coming? There was nothing more important than family.

  The straps of my pack slid from my shoulders and dropped to the floor beside my bed. I dropped my weight, listening to the bedsprings howl in protest, and kicked off my boots.

  Images took flight in my mind. Maybe his sister was okay, maybe it was nothing. Then why would Lucifer come?

  I shoved back the bedsheets and slid inside, not even bothering to undress. I curled my hand, still feeling the warmth of his palm against mine, and curled my arm, dragging the smell of him close.

  Terror waited for me in the darkness.

  My mind crafted stories of dying sisters, and brothers left behind to weep.

  Until my eyelids started to close.

  I forced them open, staring up at the cracked open window.

  Until not even my will could keep me awake…

  Chapter Three

  Melkor

  My heart was pounding as I descended through the mortal realm and into Hell. My Lord stopped at the entrance to the Keep, leaving me to make the last of my journey alone.

  It wasn’t be
cause of indifference he stayed behind…it was self-preservation—for him as well as me.

  He was the Lord of Hell. My guardian. My protector. But this…this was personal. This family. This was pain, and no matter if my steps slowed, or my heart turned leaden and heavy, he’d be the one standing there at the edge of the Keep…waiting, like a beacon in the dead of night.

  Just like Purity.

  Her laughter lingered in my ears. I lowered my gaze to outstretched fingers, and the warmth of her hand stayed in mine.

  My pulse picked up pace. It wasn’t my Lord who walked with me.

  It was her.

  Her with her impulsiveness and snark. Her with her freedom to be anything, to do anything, and give zero fucks while doing it.

  She was the beauty in my everything—even in the silence…

  Even...in the dark.

  I sank into the first level of Hell, where my home waited on the fringe of the warriors’ residences. The hiss of the pit through the stone was deafening, like a rush of breath before it was gone. Shadows clung to the edges of the underground caverns, blood red spilled into black.

  Footsteps echoed as I made my way toward our house at the edge of the cluster. My father was the General of the great Hellhound army, and first advisor to the Lord of Hell himself. He was faithful and devoted, always at our Lord’s side…where a good General should be.

  Even if we sat here alone…

  “He’s finally returned.”

  I never slowed my steps, never turned my head. I didn’t need to. Shadows morphed into blood-dappled light.

  “Took your sweet-ass time, didn’t you?”

  I swallowed the flare of pain and focused on the flapping canvas of our front door. “I came as soon as I was summoned.”

  Footsteps skimmed the dirt floor from the pit as he came closer. Shadows crowded as a low snarl echoed around the space. The hard shove gnashed my teeth, and rage flared deep.

  Not now.

  I swallowed my anger, pushed it all the way down into the dark hole inside. I would not hit him, not push him. I’d not let him rile me. I would not let him hurt me…like he hurts. “She’s going to be okay.”

  I lifted my head and stared into his eyes, there was a flare of panic before his lips curled, baring his teeth. “I know that.”

  I turned and lifted a hand…slowly. “She’s going to be okay.”

  His breath was a rush, eyes widening slowly. There was hate in those eyes, like an untapped pit just waiting to crack open and spew into the sky. “I. Know. That.”

  Doubt lingered in the panicked gaze and shudder of his breaths. Doubt slipped in like a hunter with knife in hand, ready to plunge deep.

  A cry slipped through the flaps of the front door of our home…a woman’s cry. Movement came at me with a rush. The canvas door was cast aside and Mom stumbled free. “Melkor,” she whimpered.

  My brother’s pain was forgotten, my own pain forgotten. I lunged at the sight and opened my arms. “Mom.”

  She smelled of salt and sadness, death and despair. She smelled of stale sweat and hunger…yeah, she smelled of hunger. I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her thin body close. “I’m right here.”

  Her fingers danced on my shoulders, tapping out a Morse code I couldn’t catch. I splayed my hands against her back, giving her strength and warmth, giving her love…all I had to give, anyway, until, with a sniffle, she pulled away.

  She wasn’t like the other female alphas. She was tiny, with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes, unusual for a Hound. But don’t let her stature fool you, she was feisty and raw, and overbearing and moody as fuck.

  She was a whirlwind of emotions all trapped under perfect pale skin.

  “Is she…” I murmured and lifted my gaze to the corner of the canvas door still swinging.

  “No. She’s fighting. She’s fighting with all she has,” Mom glanced at Rykor standing to the side and then lifted her hand.

  At our essence, we were a pack, and when our alpha called, we succumbed—no matter what it was. Rykor stepped closer, bowing his head to her hand. She skimmed his ear and shoulder, before pulling him closer. “She’s been asking for you.”

  “Melkor, you mean,” my brother growled.

  “For both of you,” Mom murmured. “She loves you, Rykor. Go,” she pushed against my arm, and then glanced toward the door.

  This can’t be happening…not to us. Not…to…us…

  My feet refused to budge, weighed down by the past. Kelor and I were the last of our litter. Our two brothers died years ago, long before I could even remember them. Now it was just us. Three against the world. I glanced over my shoulder at Rykor, and forced my feet to move as I stepped up to the doorway and shoved aside the door.

  The smell of sickness hit me like a blow. Fetid and raw, lined with sulphur and soot. Choking. My throat clenched tight, trapped air like a stone in the back of my throat. I tried to swallow, tried to see this place for what it was—my home, and not what it could be.

  There’s not going to be a body. There’s not going to be a pyre.

  There would not be a succession of warriors lined up at our door to pay respects to their leader. There would not be an ending…not for my sister. No fucking way.

  A moan slipped from the bedroom, punctuated by a ragged, hacking cough. Heat flared in my chest as I focused on her doorway. Steps shuffled and stilled behind me.

  A hand hit my shoulder, a tiny shove followed. Only this time, there was no malice.

  “Go on,” Rykor muttered.

  I covered the last of the steps to her door, and slowed for a second before I swept the pale-yellow fabric aside.

  “Here she is,” the forced words sounded joyful, and a false smile followed.

  She lay in the middle of the bed, just a jumble of jutting bones draped with skin. There was no movement, not from her, or from the bowed head of the male at her side.

  Dad?

  A tremor took flight…no…no…no…if he was here, it meant only one thing. She wasn’t expected to live.

  Helkor, son of Orokor, the finest Hellhound warrior who ever lived, lifted his head, but he didn’t turn, he didn’t find my gaze. He just stared at the young woman in the middle of the bed as she gasped and wheezed.

  “Dad…” I murmured, and jerked my focus from the bed to him.

  Powerful muscles trembled as he rose, staring down at her. Steel glinted from the blade in his hand. He wanted to kill…to murder, to hunt, like only a Hellhound could.

  But how could you kill death, or disease?

  The knife in his hand trembled against his side. He turned, eyes cast downwards, and snarled. “Make your peace and say goodbye.”

  He strode from the room as though we were strangers in his home.

  Only, he was the stranger. He was the one who’d left us behind.

  He was the one left to mewl and murmur all the things he should’ve said when she was strong and healthy.

  I waited for his heavy footsteps to fade before I turned to the gasping form under the covers. “You even suck at breathing,” the words slipped free. “I’m gonna need to add that to the long line of things you’re shit at.”

  The blanket shifted and peaked at her side before her fingers peeked out. Thin fingers curled, leaving the middle one bent and crookedly pointing up into the air.

  “See?” I glanced at Rykor, who stood back from the bed, wide eyes staring at our sister. “She’s fine.”

  She was still our sister, still feisty enough to flip me the bird.

  She was still breathing…still here.

  I moved to the seat still warm from my father and sat beside her. “You are going to be fine. You’re a fighter. You are the daughter of the second finest warrior who ever served at our Lord’s side. You are Kelor, and if that isn’t the best battle name I’ve ever heard, then your blonde hair and your blue eyes from Mom should be enough to fill your enemies with terror.”

  There was a cough and a splutter.

  Rykor stumbled forward. “Should I get Mom?”

  I shook my head and lifted my hand. “No, she’s laughing, dickhead.”

  The tiny gasp and gurgle came once more, and then there were harsh, jagged breaths, broken by silence, until a whisper…words I couldn’t catch.

  I leaned forward. “Say it again?”