Revelations: Fire & Brimstone Scroll 1 Read online

  REVELATIONS

  Fire & Brimstone Scroll 1

  Nikole Knight

  Copyright © 2020 Nikole Knight

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidence.

  Cover Design by Jay Aheer © 2020 Simply Defined Art

  Proofreading by Becky Edits

  Graphic art by Joshua Duncan

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Untitled

  Glossary*

  Translations

  About Nikole Knight

  Also By Nikole Knight

  Acknowledgments

  As always, my love, I’m grateful for your support. I appreciate everything you sacrificed to help me make this dream a reality. You’ve earned two honka-honkas. Cash them in wisely.

  Krystasia and Hannabella, it makes me feel all gooey inside knowing you’re supporting and encouraging me. Or maybe that’s nausea knowing my sisters read my books. Either way, I love you! Mom, this book should be tame enough for you; I’ll give you fair warning in the future should that change.

  Typo-Kween, you complete me. Thank you for your support and advice and for being my BFF across the ocean. As always, this would never have happened without you.

  I have an amazing team behind me, and I’m so grateful for each of you. I appreciate all you did to make this book the best it could be. To my betas, thank you for all your hard work in pointing out my comma-failings and repetitive vocabulary. Josh, I appreciate all the time you invested to create something amazing out of my scatterbrained ideas. Becky, thanks for your honesty, patience, and expertise.

  Last but not least, to that kid in the grocery store who looked exactly like Riley, I’m your secret #1 fan!

  Author’s Note

  Welcome, readers, to Riley’s story. It will not always be a light read, especially as the series progresses, but I am a firm believer in happy endings. While the road to that happy ending will be long, difficult, and at times, dark, we will get there in the end, I promise.

  While this series does not fall under the category of dark romance, it will deal with topics that some readers find difficult or disturbing to read. In this first installment, there will be scenes and situations that tackle issues of homophobia, child abuse, self-harm, mental health, and one instance (Prologue) of non-graphic sexual assault. For those readers who are sensitive to these topics, read with caution.

  Lastly, keep in mind that this story follows Riley on his road to self-discovery, freedom, love, and family. This is a slow burn romance but will eventually feature a polyamorous/harem relationship with M/M/M aspects. This series is New Adult and intended for mature readers.

  For those ready to join Riley’s world, step right up, take a seat at the table, and good luck.

  Welcome, my angels, to Fire & Brimstone.

  --N.K.

  Prologue

  Nothing in all the realms smelled quite like agony. It was a special aroma, pungent and heady. Mixed with sweat and blood, it was positively sinful.

  The demon inhaled deeply, spreading the delicious concoction through his lungs. It trickled through his bloodstream, energizing his body, and a pleasant buzz permeated his brain from the potent bouquet. Hector lived for moments such as these.

  As the cries of the female behind him mixed with the grunts of his partner, Devlin, Hector’s strength and senses heightened. Bloody saliva dripped from the female’s mouth, and Devlin’s pleasure was almost palpable in the air as he gave a guttural groan, finding his release.

  A host of demons inched forward, fangs extended, claws lengthening at the sight and smell of the female’s torture. A hiss from between Hector’s teeth curbed their bloodlust. He needed her to talk, and allowing the other demons a free-for-all would quickly result in her death, which was counterproductive to his orders.

  With a growl, Devlin thrust his fingers into the female’s mahogany tresses and yanked her head from the stained, damp cement. Before Hector could offer a warning, his colleague sank his fangs into her neck. She shrieked as her flesh tore anew.

  Fresh blood trickled down her slender neck, and the purity of her essence blasted Hector like a harsh desert wind. His own stomach rumbled, but he clamped down on his dark desires. He would taste her at some point. But first, he needed to speak with her.

  After only a moment, Devlin released her and staggered to his feet, adjusting himself before zipping his pants closed. Sweat glistened on his bald head, and his dark eyes met Hector’s momentarily. Without verbal instruction, he nodded and backed away.

  “She’s all yours, Hec.”

  Hector dipped his chin. “Thank you, Dev.”

  As Hector sauntered forward, the female collapsed to her knees, weak from both blood loss and the torture she’d endured. Imprisoned for two days, she had experienced unimaginable torment, yet she wouldn’t talk. He couldn’t break her, and his patience—not to mention, the patience of his master—quickly waned.

  Enough games! He was done going easy on her.

  Approaching the crumpled form of the female, he crouched and slid his nimble fingers into her knotted curls. She tensed at the touch, and he smiled. Her fear and apprehension were almost as tasty as her pain and degradation… almost.

  His fingers twisted in her curls, and he jerked her head at an unnatural angle, admiring her bruised and bloodied face. As her sunshine scent washed over him, his nostrils flared and desire heated his blood, causing an unwanted tightening in his pants.

  Fires of Hell, he hated angels.

  Her glazed eyes opened, the deep cocoa irises captivating in their anguish, and he fought the shudder threatening his body from the underlying magnificence she retained despite the filth covering her. Purple and blue splotches marred her porcelain skin, her body streaked with dirt, blood, and other bodily fluids. But she was nonetheless captivating to behold. The fiery desire to take her burned through his veins; he yearned to taste her.

  Shoving the traitorous lust from his body, he bared his fangs in her face as an animalistic growl scraped his throat. “Where is the child?” His lips were close enough to brush the petal soft skin of her mouth. “Where is the boy?”

  Her gaze hardened to facets of brecciated jasper. Instead of answering, she gathered the bloody saliva in her mouth and spat. The copper spittle splattered across his face, and his anger boiled uncontrollably. With a roar, he smashed her head on the cement with a force that would crush the skull of a human. Since she wa
s anything but mortal, the hit merely added another bruise to her perfect face.

  As he wiped the metallic, sticky residue from his face with a handkerchief, Hector reined in his temper. He despised her resolute strength; she should have caved by now. Her determined silence left a bitter taste on his tongue. Normally, he was proud of his self-control, but he hated how far the female tested even his limits. He would break her, even if it killed him.

  “Your dedication is admirable but ultimately in vain.” His fangs throbbed with the need to rip into her tender throat and drink his fill, but he abstained. Instead, he waited for her to speak. He was unsurprised when she pressed her lips firmly together, glaring back at him in abhorrence. Grazing his nose against her cheek, he crooned false promises as he waved a warning hand at the small crowd of demons circling in wait for their turn. “I can end this for you. Just tell me where the babe lies, and I’ll rip out your mouth-watering heart and put an end to all of this.”

  Her mouth quivered, her luscious lips parting on a shaky inhale, and he chained his excitement for fear of breaking whatever spell he’d managed to cast over her. She lifted her captivating eyes, and the strangest, saddest smile played at the corners of her mouth. She swallowed thickly.

  “You have no concept of love, do you? Loyalty? Sacrifice?” Her quiet voice cracked from disuse, yet it drifted through the air like the loveliest song. She paused a moment as if awaiting an answer, but it was his turn to be struck speechless at her lilting words. “If you had any understanding of those things, you’d know there is nothing you could do to me that would ever make me betray my son.”

  With a vicious snarl, he allowed his claws to elongate and slice the flesh of her throat. “We will find him. There is no place he can hide from the Seven. The underworld will reveal him. Utopia will reject him. And the mortal realm?” Hector scoffed. “It cannot protect him from us. We will find your son, slit his infant throat, and bathe in his blood.”

  Bloodied and broken, she released a dry, humorless chuckle. “You’re afraid.” Her lips quirked in the subtlest smirk. “Good. You should be.”

  He tossed her aside with an indignant roar, and she flopped lifelessly to the cement floor like a rag doll, her defiance draining the last of her strength. “Open!” The ancient language trilled over his tongue, and the female screeched as her wings exploded from her back. The pure, magnificent silver feathers stretched in freedom before circling her body protectively. He surveyed the disgusting beauty with disdain, then barked at the demons crouched in preparation, “Well, what are you waiting for? Rip them out!”

  Needing no other encouragement, the demons converged on the helpless female. Fangs shredded through flesh as claws mangled her silver wings. Feathers floated through the air like snowflakes, and her blood-curdling screams rang through the dank room as one wing, then the other were torn from her flesh.

  As blood poured from the gaping wounds on her back, no less than three demons fought to mount her. At this rate, she’d be dead within minutes.

  Hector clapped his hands to bring order to the chaos. “That’s enough, boys.”

  Grudgingly, the demons slunk away from the weeping angel, and she tucked herself into a ball on her knees as her wings were irreverently tossed to the filthy ground. She curled her arms, cradling an invisible child to her breast as her weeping morphed into a primordial lullaby. Her suffering thickened the melody with sorrow.

  If Hector’s soul had not been pulverized upon his creation, perhaps he would have mourned with the female. As it stood, her misery merely pleased him; it fed his sadistic, blackened heart.

  “She’s useless to our cause,” Devlin said, bored now that he had indulged in her body and blood. “Perhaps I can keep her. She would make an excellent pet.”

  Hector patted his shoulder. “Patience, my young friend.”

  A shift in the female’s tone stole their attention. Her song changed into a soft chant, the primeval tongue unfamiliar, existing before his time. It grew in volume and power, and the atmosphere trembled as her skin glowed pure and white. Love and loss, sorrow and hope, they blew through the air like a maelstrom as her chant became a war cry.

  When she raised her face to the heavens, the air shimmered and blurred with energy. Subtle arcs of electricity sparked along her skin as a smoldering orb appeared in her hands. The roar of rushing wind accompanied the cyclone of her power, whipping at their clothes. The glow in her palms stretched to engulf her entire form until nothing existed but radiant light. And she wept.

  “Hec?” Devlin stumbled under the weight of her might, and Hector shielded his eyes with his hand, his knees knocking.

  What was this? She shouldn’t have this power, not after the suffering she had endured. This, whatever it was, did not bode well for him or his master.

  With one last ear-splitting scream from the broken angel on the floor, the light exploded like an atom bomb. The shockwave shook the ground and crashed over the demons in the room. They flew backward like paper dolls. A blinding flash flared. Wind roared like a freight train. Then, all at once, it stopped. The overwhelming noise instantly stilled, and the light blinked out. The room returned to its former shadowy state.

  Feeling like he’d been trampled by a stampede of hellhounds, Hector lifted his torso off the ground. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden semi-darkness. Dev staggered to his feet and aided Hector in standing as the last buzz of power zipped through the air and winked out.

  What in the names of the seven princes was that?

  Brushing off his clothes, Hector took in the destruction lying around him. A hurricane had swept through the room, laying waste to everything in its path. But the total devastation hardly compared to the crippling realization that the angel had disappeared. In her place was a black-scorched circle, the center power-washed clean without a speck or stain to be found.

  She was gone, and with her, their best chance of finding the boy, the child who could destroy everything.

  Depths of Sheol, Hector had failed in his assignment. The ramifications would be costly indeed. Maker have mercy on his cursed soul.

  Chapter One

  Was it possible to die of embarrassment? If so, I was going to drop dead in three, two, one…

  “Shepard!” my professor roared in outrage as the screen—which was supposed to portray my report on the fall of the Mayan Empire—filled with the sudden onslaught of skin, skin, and more skin.

  Obnoxious moaning blasted from the speakers mounted on the wall, and the awkward grunting coming from the two men on the screen was enough to turn my stomach. Humiliation heated my face as I gawked at the horrifying display and then at my flash drive inserted in the projector. Except it couldn’t be my flash drive because never, in my entire nineteen years of life, had I seen anything like this, let alone downloaded it onto a USB.

  As the pornography played, the entire lecture hall erupted with laughter. Mortified tears burned my eyes as I scrambled to remove the USB stick that clearly wasn’t mine. It had to belong to my roommate; he must have switched our flash drives.

  Brian hated me and had been playing pranks on me since the beginning of the semester. Usually, he settled for simple name calling; throwing a red sock into my white laundry to turn everything pink; or dumping water on me in the middle of the night because I, once again, woke him with one of my nightmares. But he had never messed with my homework before. He’d never gone this far.

  It had to be him. Who else would have done this?

  As I yanked the USB from the projector, the screen froze at the worst possible moment. I choked and looked away from the image of where the men were… joined. I knew it was possible for two men to have sex, but I never thought too hard on the logistics. I, now, had no further questions on that front.

  “Mr. Grant, I’m so s-sorry!” I covered my blistering cheeks, blinking through my tears as my professor glowered at me. “This isn’t mine… I-I don’t understand how… I didn’t…”

  “Shepard! Shepard! Sh
epard!” My classmates chanted my name, cheering and laughing as I internally begged the floor to open and swallow me whole.

  “Quiet!” Mr. Grant barked, his mustache trembling in rage. “Quiet all of you, or else I’m failing each and every one of you for this assignment!”

  That got their attention, and thankfully, the room fell silent. Mr. Grant flicked off the power to the projector. The pornographic image blinked out like it had never existed. “Mr. Shepard, my office after class.”

  “Yes, sir.” Shrinking in on myself, I nodded before hurrying back to my seat at the back of the room.

  How could Brian do this to me? I thought I was a good roommate. What did I ever do to make him loathe me this much?

  I was quiet, kept my side of our dorm tidy, and even cleaned the bathroom for him when he was on rotation. When he got drunk and vomited everywhere, I washed his bedding, and I never complained when he kicked me out of our room to have alone time with a girl. To be honest, he wasn’t the easiest roommate given his penchant for rude speech and loud music, but I took it all in stride.

  By the time class finished, my blush hadn’t faded and my eyes stung with tears I refused to shed. As the lecture hall emptied, numerous students either complimented me on my prank, ignoring my stammered denials, or sneered viciously. I heard “kinky freak” and “faggot” thrown my way, and my throat ached as I swiped at my watery eyes.