Hell in a Handbasket Read online

  Hell In A Handbasket

  Sin Demons

  Mila Young

  Harper A. Brooks

  Hell in a Handbasket © Copyright 2020 Mila Young & Harper A. Brooks

  Cover Design by Jervy Bonifacio | Phoenix Design Studio

  Editing by Dara Horcasitas of Refined Voice Editing

  Proofreading by Nic Page and Robyn Mather

  Visit our books at

  www.milayoungbooks.com

  https://harperabrooks.com

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher/author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Dedication

  For Spanking Girl

  -Harper A. Brooks

  For Limo Girl

  -Mila Young

  Contents

  Sin Demons Series

  Hell in a Handbasket

  Chapter 1

  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

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Night Kissed

  Death Wish

  About Mila Young

  About Harper A. Brooks

  Books By Mila Young

  Books by Harper A. Brooks

  Sin Demons Series

  Playing With Hellfire

  Hell In A Handbasket

  All Shot To Hell

  To Hell And Back

  Hell in a Handbasket

  See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil. Sleep with no evil… If only it were that easy.

  Between being kidnapped by a psycho dragon-shifter, influenced by ancient relics, and fighting for my freedom, I’d say my hands are full. But really, my troubles have just begun.

  Cain, Dorian, and Elias are wickedly dangerous, scorching hot, and all too tempting. They’re devils in disguise. Literally.

  I don’t know why they’re collecting these relics, but it looks like I’m not the only one with secrets. Despite all the risks, I might be falling for the three of them. But there's a good chance this Hellish relationship ends up being the death of me.

  To make matters worse, there may be something more to my shadow than I originally thought. Something evil that’s set on taking over me entirely if I let it. With each passing day, I find myself falling deeper into its darkness and further under the demons’ deadly charms.

  There’s no other way around it... Things are quickly going to Hell in a handbasket.

  Chapter One

  Aria

  “If I got rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.” -Tennessee Williams

  Consciousness slams into me, and my eyes snap open to the city buildings and streets in minuscule size all the way down, down, down below. My heart plummets and terror seizes me.

  “Fuuuucckk!” I scream and fling my arms about. Wind whips into me, throwing my hair into my face as it whistles past my ears. For a moment, I believe I’m falling, but that’s quickly proven to be wrong by the talons digging into my sides, the massive shadow overhead, and the loud whooshing sound from each swing of leathery wings above me.

  Craning my neck up, I have to do a double-take. The beast holding me hundreds of feet above the ground and soaring through the air is a freaking dragon! The dark scales covering its enormous body glint with a silvery hue, and when its long neck tilts down, the reptilian-looking head pivots to look at me with eyes sparking orange and gold, like fire.

  I shudder as fear unlike any I’ve ever known grips me. Terrified of being dropped from this high and the horrible death that would follow, I curl in on myself and clutch onto the clawed legs I’m trapped between. The creature lifts its head and roars, the sound blaring against my eardrums.

  It unleashes an inferno of flames into the sky. Heat backlashes over me, and a scream bursts past my lips, my heart thundering. I make the mistake of looking down again at the world rushing beneath me at a blurring speed. The city’s given way to thick woods and sloping hills.

  How the hell did this happen? My groggy brain struggles to recall the moments before waking up in a dragon’s clutches. I was kidnapped by the Full Mooner wolves and brought to Sir Surchion’s warehouse, I remember that. The fucking old bat had tracked me down because of the Orb of Chaos. Cain, Elias, and Dorian were outside. I remember hearing the pandemonium as they clashed with more werewolves who’d planned to ambush them. Something must have happened. God, I hope they’re okay.

  Then there’s the whole ‘Sayah becoming alive and feeding off my energy’ thing. Sir Surchion had called her a demon, and I’ll admit, with her stretched limbs and red eyes, she definitely seemed to fit the bill. But when I reach inside myself, I can’t even sense her there. It’s like she’s hiding from me, but maybe that’s for the best.

  Now, I’m flying through the air with a dragon. Another one of those ultra-rare supernatural types that only a few have laid eyes on.

  Sickness churns in my gut. This isn’t how I expected my life to turn out. For so long, I dreamed of moving out of my foster home and starting fresh, but instead, my world has turned into a sinking pit.

  Sold to demons.

  Kidnapped by a dragon.

  Yep, I’m doing magnificently in the ‘How to Get Killed Quickly’ department.

  Suddenly, we lurch forward, the dragon spearing directly for a mountain.

  Wind assaults me, tearing at my hair and clothes. As the ground begins to rush closer, nausea rolls, and another scream rips from my throat. I hold onto the beast’s claws for dear life and wonder what it plans for me next. Does it want to make me a meal for its children? Or is it going to add me as a token to its treasure collection?

  I search the landscape, desperate to find a path I can use later if I manage to escape. Rivers snake amid the wild overgrowth of woodland. Sharp rock faces, hills everywhere. It’s going to be a dangerous trek, but I’ll take my chances.

  The wind comes so fast now, I can’t drag air into my lungs. We swoop sideways, and I hold on tighter. We’re rushing toward the top of the towering mountain. Fear tears at my chest that we’re going to crash-land with me underneath this creature.

  The talons around me suddenly loosen and pull away.

  I’m falling. My stomach lurches, and I see my own death. I flail about, screaming, and crash into a tangle of overgrown grass with a hard thump.

  My momentum sends me tumbling forward, rolling and spinning through the brush and mud. My vision twirls, pain jabbing me from all directions.

  When I finally come to a stop, I lay there, gasping and sputtering, my heart banging against my rib cage.

  I could have died… That’s all I can think. I could have died.
/>
  But, surprisingly, I’m not dead. Not yet, anyway.

  I need to stay low, to vanish amid the greenery. Use the forest to my advantage.

  An ache flares over my hip from the rough landing, and my muscles strain. Now that the initial fear of falling to my death is over, I’m hit with all the excruciating pain from the fight in the warehouse. Specifically, my shoulder, which hurts beyond words. With a shaky hand, I touch the jagged wound and wince as a burning, stabbing pain flares.

  That's right. Freaking werewolf had bit me.

  A thunderous roar booms from behind me, and the ground beneath me shudders. I whip around to find the dragon just yards away, smoke leaking out of its nostrils. Its fiery gaze pins on me, and it begins to stomp my way.

  My wounds are going to slow me down, but there’s no way I’m going to lay down and be eaten.

  I’m up and running in the next second. Every step the beast takes has the Earth shaking and me tripping over my own feet as I run uphill. Ahead of me, the ground levels out, and the opening to a cave comes into view. Here, the vegetation is non-existent, charred black by fire. This must be the dragon’s den. Its nest.

  Shit.

  Not good.

  But turning back isn’t an option. Not when the dragon is closing the distance, and beyond the cave, the ground drops off suddenly. Both options lead to an agonizing death.

  My only hope is that there’s another exit at the rear.

  Knowing the odds aren’t really in my favor, I hightail it toward the cave. Another quick glance over my shoulder, and I see the dragon’s skin twitching. Slowing, it swings its head as if it’s in a great deal of pain, and I pause. It starts to shrink before my eyes. Scales morph and take on a human skin tone. Bones pop as they readjust, and the thing groans as it turns to face away from me. The neck shortens, and the tail recedes until it’s gone.

  It’s… shifting.

  I didn’t know dragons were actually a kind of shifter. As excruciating as the change seems to be, it happens in almost the blink of an eye. One second, it’s a great creature, next, a man stands in its place with his back to me, stark naked. Complete with saggy ass. Eww.

  Now that is a surprise. Who would have thought such a powerful dragon would have the butt of a wrinkly old man?

  He crouches down and picks up clothes from the ground, ones I didn’t notice in my frantic running. Bright red tights, oversized cheetah print coat, and circular glasses. When he turns toward me, I gasp.

  Sir Surchion! The collector from the antique store.

  White hair, thick sideburns, a pale goatee, and beady eyes that find me in an instant. Ice fills my veins, and for a few moments, I’m numb. It’s like there’s nothing inside me, no need to run, no need for anything but to be in utter shock.

  He’s a dragon shifter? Since when?

  My mouth hangs open as he struts forward, readjusting his coat on his body. Right then, a bird swoops down and lands perfectly on his shoulder. A big black crow. Mordecai.

  In his beak are the three relics he stole from me, all still magically attached to one another. Sir Surchion reaches up, takes them from his pet, and grins.

  A faint hum of music flares over my mind as the relics call to me. Their combined voices rise in a siren song. “Danger. Danger. Danger.”

  The hairs on the nape of my neck stand up automatically. The voices and melody might be smoother now, but it doesn’t make it any less creepy.

  Panic restarting my heart, I spin and rush for the cave again, my only chance at escape. All this time, I’d thought Sir Surchion was just a dirty old man who liked to hit on younger girls and had a severe hoarding problem. Turns out he’s all that and a fucking fire-breathing dragon. And I’d say that’s much, much worse.

  The moment I pass through the entrance, I’m cloaked in shadows, and the temperature drops about ten degrees. I rush behind a group of big rocks further inside, nearly tripping over my own feet in the dark. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I try to quiet my rapid breathing, but it still sounds too loud to me. That and my frantic heart, which pounds like thunder in my ears.

  “No use hiding, Aria,” Sir Surchion says. “You’re not going anywhere, and you have much to tell me.”

  I crouch low and peer deeper into the cavern. A black void stares back at me. I debate calling to Sayah and asking for her help to search it, but she’s still out of reach. I’m on my own here.

  Frantically, I pat the ground for a weapon as Sir Surchion draws closer. My hand closes around a rod-shaped rock that’s broken on one end, giving it a sharp edge. I snatch it and tuck it into the pocket of my jeans.

  This is crazy, I repeat to myself. Absolutely fucking crazy…

  But if there really is no way out of here, and no Sayah to help, then I’m backed into a corner. I’ll have to fight.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I rise and step out of my hiding spot to stand before the monster.

  “Why, Miss Cross, you looked a bit surprised to find out what I really am. Is it really that astonishing?” he asks.

  “If you mean a saggy old windbag, then no,” I say past the thickness of my throat. “Just add wings and you’re a saggy old windbag who can fly. Not that spectacular.”

  He snorts, smoke wisping out from the corners of his flaring nostrils. “You speak with such disrespect. In ancient times, they would have thrown virgins like you to me, and—” He stops and taps the side of his face as if he’s remembering something important. “Oh wait. That’s right. You’re the demons’ property now, so not a virgin anymore, I’m sure.”

  I grit my teeth. I don’t know why the comment irritates me so much, but it does.

  He moves with lightning speed toward me. I can’t even register what’s happened until his hand is around my throat, squeezing hard. I struggle to suck in another breath.

  “I am the devil, the darkness, everything you fear,” he sneers at me, and the damn crow squawks on his shoulder, wings spread wide.

  I slap his arm to try and get him to let go, but it does nothing. “Technically...” I gasp, “Cain is the real devil, not you.”

  He snarls, his breath stinking like rotten eggs, and tosses me aside like I’m nothing but a rag doll. I hit the ground hard and moan, because as luck would have it, I hit my sore hip.

  Fear tightens around my chest at how easily he threw me. Even as old as he is, he’s still much stronger than me. And faster.

  He’s next to me in seconds, his hand snatching me by my ripped top and wrenching me to my feet. I shove against his chest. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

  “Let’s make a deal. You’re good at those, aren’t you?” he growls in my face, holding me close. “I won’t burn you to a crisp for stealing my orb if you tell me more about your three little demon boyfriends.”

  His words take me off guard. Why would he want to know about Cain, Dorian, and Elias?

  “I-I d-don’t know anything about them,” I reply. “They’re asses, just like you.”

  His expression twists into a scowl, and he shakes me like I’m a milkshake. Everything gets stirred inside me, and the earlier sickness comes back up, fast this time.

  “You will tell me everything. Where they found their relics and what they intend to do with them, or you will end up like the warlock.”

  He ceases the shaking, and bile hits the back of my throat.

  “I don’t feel too well,” I murmur.

  But he isn’t listening and talks over me. “That pathetic excuse for a spellcaster begged for his life, you know. Saying he knew nothing about the orb you took. But you know what he did say before I strangled him and Mordecai pecked out his eyes? That you have abilities, and he’d tell me all about them if I let him go.” He laughs like a hyena. “He tried selling you out in a heartbeat.”

  It only takes seconds for his confession to sink into me. It sits at the bottom of my stomach like a brick. “You’re the one who killed my foster father? For information? You sick bastard!”

  I throw my fists at him, nailin
g him in the face and chest, but he laughs at me like I’m nothing more than a pestering gnat. I loathe this man with every fiber of my being. I should’ve burned his whole warehouse down when I broke in that first time.

  “Although…” he begins, his eyes glinting with interest, “what you did back there with your demon shadow was peculiar. Could come in handy at some point down the road…”

  Oh no. I know where this is going.

  He continues, “I could add you to my collection. Store you away for a rainy day.”

  Fuck no. Absolutely not. I’m not going to be set on some mantel like someone’s trophy.

  He shakes me again, so hard this time that my teeth rattle. It’s impossible to keep the sickness down anymore, and the contents of my stomach decide to make a show. I gag and throw up all over Sir Surchion’s coat.

  “You bitch!” he squeals and recoils. He lets me drop, and my knees are the first to hit the dirt, but it’s not long before the back of his knuckles slam into the side of my face. My stomach still roils, but this is my chance.

  While he bats at the vomit on his ridiculous fur coat, I lunge toward him, lashing out with my stone weapon. The sharp edge bites into his side, and using all my strength, I drag it across his abdomen, tearing flesh. Mordecai squawks and launches into the air.

  Sir Surchion leaps backward, growling ferociously and clutching the wound. Blood covers his hands in seconds.