The Bitter Storm

By Alice J. Black

After saving a friend from the clutches of Lust, Ruby finds herself tried and sentenced for the crime of murder and is incarcerated in Ravenshill Prison. Seemingly abandoned by most of those she considers her friends, Ruby finds she has to adapt to her new surroundings quickly to avoid being walked all over. Yet even behind bars nobody is safe, and she finds herself wrapped up in another mystery as the women become targeted by something that could only be related to the demon world.

As Ruby fights to save those in her new environment, she is also learning more about her past than she ever considered, that is until a figure from the not too distant past comes back to haunt her and steal her dad's journal...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melange Books, LLC
• Release date: Apr 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781680469332

Alice J. Black

Alice lives and works in the North East of England where she lives with her partner and slightly ferocious cat. She writes all manner of fiction with a tendency to lean towards the dark side, but also likes to challenge herself and write out of her genre too. Dreams and sleep-talking are currently a big source of inspiration and her debut novel, The Doors, is a young adult novel which originally sprouted from a dream several years ago and grew from there.

Book preview

Chapter One

Ruby

Darkness swarms in the air around me. Darkness punctuated by tendrils of light so fleeting that when I reach out to grasp them, they shrink from my outstretched fingers and are swallowed back into the depths of shadows. I feel like I’m falling, my body pulled downwards by gravity, but this is no rabbit hole.

Then I realise I’m not just falling, I’m being sucked into a deep oblivion, pulled further and further into the abyss of destruction below me. I feel the heat as it licks my toes. I fight, my arms swimming for the surface but I cannot emerge from the darkness that surrounds me because there is no escape. Everything I know and love in my life, in the world around me, it is gone. There is only the darkness, ever present and invading. And as I’m drawn down into the dark depths below, the heat sending coils spiralling up my calves, I realise with a sickening comprehension, that there is a deep ache inside. I want this more than I have ever wanted anything. I am about to lose myself.

My eyes flicked open just as the darkness threatened to consume my very existence. Terror prickled every inch of my skin, beads of perspiration swelling across the expanse of my back. I jumped, the covers shifting over my ankles, and I felt a trace of heat that lingered on my skin before it cooled with the chill of the early morning. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and then finally, began to slow my heartbeat.

The dreams—the nightmares—had been coming to me for weeks. Not every night, but often enough to make me question my own sanity. That was something I hadn’t done since I first began seeing shadows move in the darkness. The dreams were always the same; darkness and heat and a sordid wish for the pain that licked my skin. I had nobody to consult about them, no Hunters I could call, but I knew that they signalled some sort of change, I just didn’t know what it was yet.

Pushing myself up and shaking the last of the dream away, I let my surroundings come into focus. Everything was white, from the shine on the walls forming a square around me, to the door and the floor. Live in the light. The phrase popped into my mind and I almost laughed. Almost. There wasn’t a dark shadow to be had in this tiny room and I was grateful to an extent after everything I’d witnessed of late, but I couldn’t muster the energy to crack a smile let alone laugh. Day by day, my energy, my willpower, seemed to deplete and the longer I stared at these four walls, the more I worried I would never return to normal. Whatever that was.

The night that started everything and had me coiled up in this mess came rushing back to me, as it always did, with sudden venomous force that brought tears to my eyes. There was always a sting of emotion that came with the memories. Sometimes it was overwhelming sadness that threatened to send me into the pit of depression. Sometimes it was fear of what was coming next. But mostly it was anger, the unshed tears of hurt.

My mind rushed back though I fought it and within seconds, my memory was rooted back on that night. There was a flash of the house—the brothel—of Cora leading the man upstairs, Melody’s tiny skirt. And then I saw it ending, pulling Melody into me, taking her home. My memory skipped forward to the point where I’d climbed into bed. I saw the flash of blue in the midnight sky and then heard the knock on the door. I had known then, with a deep dread in my heart and a knot in my stomach, that something had been set in motion.

I saw myself descending the stairs on light feet where I paused at the door, pressing my face to the door to look through the spyhole. There were two police officers in high vis jackets, the car at the kerb still flashing blue lights across the whole street. Opening that door had been one of the hardest things I had to do. I knew why they were there, but I also knew there was no escape. I’d opened the door then, felt a blast of cool night air against my skin.

Ruby Dawson? It was an identifying statement.

Yes. I still clutched the door with one hand, the other arm wound over my chest in an attempt to stay warm.

You’re under arrest for murder. The words had hit me like a sledgehammer, their weight leaving me breathless. My legs had buckled beneath me and I went down. I was hauled to my feet, the cuffs locked on my wrists as I was read my rights. Then I was dragged away, my house disappearing in the darkness as I was shut up in the back of the car. In the space of a few hours I had lost everything I knew, everything I’d fought for. I was appointed a state lawyer who seemed nice enough, but I often saw the look on his face when he thought I wasn’t looking. Judgement. Disgust. Pity.

The worst part of it all, was sitting there alone that very first night in a cell, completely alone. I hadn’t heard a thing in the few weeks I’d been in a cell awaiting my sentence either. The only time I’d seen a familiar face was when Becca came to the courtroom during my trial. She left that day in floods of tears, mascara tracking down her cheeks, and I hadn’t seen hide or hair of her since.

None of the Hunters had shown up at the trial. No Delta, Justin, Luka or Roan. And worst of all, no Vaughn. That hurt the most. I often saw his face in the dead of night when I couldn’t sleep; the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, his warm chocolate eyes, the muscular arms that held me close. I worried I was beginning to forget his face. And that was speckled with flashes of anger that he had made no effort to see me.

I had even foolishly thought, allowed myself to hope, that Sheila would come. Despite everything she had done, it would have been a friendly face. And not only that, but I knew she was a powerful woman who held a lot of sway; I thought that she might be able to do something to alleviate my situation, that she might be able to free me, but she too had stayed away.

I was completely and utterly alone.

When I was dragged into the cell in the early hours of the morning and asked for my statement, I told them the truth. Nothing else would have worked or given a credible explanation for my actions. When I started talking my lawyer encouraged me to quieten but I knew I had to try. The room had been cramped with the four of us in there, a thick table between me and the officers and a recording machine set on top of it.

The first time I told them I killed the woman because she was a demon, they laughed, suggested that I needed my blood testing for drugs. The second time they had looked at each other with one of those looks that suggested they thought something was amiss. And then third time, well, that’s when they called in the psychiatrist. I couldn’t say I blamed them with everything I was coming out with. Demons and darkness and shadows. I wouldn’t have believed me going back a few years, but I guess that’s where I’d hoped Sheila’s sway would muscle in.

The psychiatric assessment came back with nothing, as did the blood tests, and the questioning continued.

I remembered the good cop and his well-thought wise words. Ruby, he had paused and leaned across the table, his eyes shining with something that was supposed to resemble sympathy. If I had been lying, I might have been inclined to confess. It’ll be easier on you if you tell us the truth. Nobody is going to believe this story. Why did you kill Cora Peony?

My answer had been simple and the same as the last time he’d asked: Because she was a demon.

They went ahead and pressed charges for murder. And I had been in the cell ever since, waiting for my sentence and the rest of my life to begin.

---

I shook the memories from my head. They came unbidden on a regular basis and I knew they always would, but I had to snap myself from the reverie at some point or I’d spiral into that pit I desperately wanted to avoid. I sat up, wrapping the meagre covers around my bare feet, and stretched. I’d almost become accustomed to being in that cell. It had been my home for long enough now and the four walls were familiar with all of the dents and chips from its previous occupants, but nothing would ever make me forget the comfort of home. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the cold wall, not for the first time wishing I was curled up on the sofa with Vaughn beside me.

Vaughn. Sometimes it hurt too much to think about him. When I was first arrested and locked up while police gathered their evidence, I cried a lot. I thought about Vaughn, pined for him. There was no way that I could contact him, and every waking moment had me wondering what he was thinking, whether, after everything, he still loved me. Our last conversation had been an argument and I hated it but had to hope he could see past it. But whether he could see past murder, whether he’d understand why I did what I did, was another matter.

As the weeks rolled by, my emotions and thoughts began to stabilise until I became numb.

Down the corridor I heard the echo of steps, thunderous and confident—they always had an air of authority stamped in their boots—and I knew they were coming to get me. My stomach knotted.

Chapter Two

Vaughn

Turn it off. My dad’s instruction was loud and clear but still I ignored it. I couldn’t just switch off, not like he could. The news anchor was just addressing the local news and if there was any snippet of information that could come from it, anything at all, I was determined to have it. I stared at the screen, refusing to look at him even though I could feel the burn of his eyes on the back of my neck.

Vaughn. He spoke again, this time a little softer, as he took a seat beside me. You’re torturing yourself. I moved my head slightly but still didn’t meet his eyes.

I knew he was right. Ever since the night Ruby had gone to Hutson Street, killed the woman that Lust was inhabiting and was subsequently arrested, I’d done nothing but torture myself. The last time we’d spoken she’d been angry. Angry at my lack of support. I should have been there with her that night, we all should have. Instead she went alone and did what needed to be done and was suffering for it now.

Her name, her face, was all over the news and I stuck to it like glue. It had become an obsession but one I wasn’t willing to let go. I need to know.

Nothing will be announced until later.

And I’m supposed to do what? I snapped, finally turning to look at my dad. Ruby has been charged with murder. Today she finds out how long she’ll spend rotting in jail because Sheila won’t do anything to help.

We’ve been over this. No matter what happens today, we can fix it, but right now we need to keep Sheila thinking we’re on her side.

I laughed, the sound mirthless. "I’m sick of this. I’m sick of having to pretend like life is okay when nothing is okay. Ruby is going to jail. She’ll spend the next few years of her life behind bars for what she did, and Sheila is just sitting by and watching."

But—

And the worst part about it is that I can’t do anything. I have to go on Hunting, keep doing what I do and working for that woman when I know what she’s done. Getting Trumble to stalk Ruby, having him go into her home and now this. I shook my head. She thinks that Ruby went after Trumble alone. She’s punishing Ruby for it.

And that’s why this is still working, Dad reminded me. You know as well as I do that we need her to keep thinking that. If she thinks we were involved, we’ll be thrown out of The Agency quicker than you can imagine and that leaves us completely blind. We need to stay cool and keep plodding forward.

Plodding forward? I repeated his words with a laugh. Maybe I don’t want it to work anymore. There’s nothing left. Why are we continuing with this charade? We have nothing to lose.

Stop, Vaughn. We have everything to lose. You need to stay focused and remember why we’re doing all of this, see the bigger picture. We need to stay close to Sheila, to get any information we can. You know that.

I don’t want to be anywhere near her.

If you know what’s good for Ruby, you will. His voice was stern. This is hard, I won’t deny that, but unless you keep it together and go on like nothing has happened Sheila will suspect. That would leave us in a dangerous position and at best we’ll no longer have access to The Agency and at the worst, well, we won’t be around anymore at all. He paused, clasping his hands together, giving his words a moment to sink in. Sheila had Trumble on her side and while he’s gone now, I have no doubt she has more tricks up her sleeve. Sheila has turned to the darkness and we are the only ones who can figure it out.

I stared at the TV screen, my dad’s words rushing back through my mind. He was right and I knew it, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. I hadn’t seen Ruby since her arrest, and it was killing me.

Just then, the story flashed up on the screen, Ruby’s face set in a square to the right of the anchor. My heart thudded in my chest. I sat forward, hands leaning over my knees.

And now in the local news, the anchor spoke, shuffling a couple of papers on the desk without removing her eyes from the camera. Convicted murderer Ruby Dawson is being sentenced today. The court prepares to meet later this morning and will decide her fate. Ruby was convicted of killing Cora Peony, a local businesswoman, two months ago. She was found guilty by unanimous vote and now faces her sentence. We will bring you updates later in the day.

I shook my head and turned the screen off, standing up. I’d seen enough.

Where are you going? my dad asked.

Out.

Don’t forget the meeting.

I let myself out of the apartment I shared with my dad and took the stairs to the ground floor. I stepped past Jim who held open the door but couldn’t muster the voice for a greeting. I stepped out into the world and began to walk, my dad’s last reminder ringing in my ear.

The meeting. How could I forget the meeting? Even if I wanted to, it was churning in the back of my mind as much as Ruby had been in the forefront. Sheila had called a meeting of the Hunters at The Agency. Everyone had to be there. No doubt it would be to do with Ruby. So far, I’d endured four meetings of the kind since her arrest and I wasn’t sure I could do it anymore. Every time Sheila’s eyes passed over me, I saw a smug flicker of satisfaction. Having Ruby locked up was working to her advantage; it got rid of the problem she couldn’t openly express—that she thought Ruby had killed Trumble. Of course, it was the truth, but Ruby hadn’t been the only Hunter involved in that mission and yet she was the only one being punished. She was left in a cell, alone and isolated, while The Agency ran on like nothing was wrong.

Rumours had sprung up quickly and as much as I tried to avoid them, I couldn’t completely. I heard whispers circulating that Ruby had lost it and gone on a rampage. Some of the Hunters dropped their conversations to a mutter when I neared as if just mentioning her name would make me fall apart. I would never let them see it, but deep down inside I was. My heart was tearing in two and each day I spent without her, without being able to even talk to her, the break got wider.

My phone rang and I fished it from my pocket expecting to see my dad’s name. Instead I saw it was Becca. I pressed the green button and held the phone to my ear.

Chapter Three

Ruby

The steps got closer, each thud of boots against the hard floor punctuating my hastening heartbeat. They were coming for me. It was almost time. Apart from the steps, there was silence as they approached, an omen to my upcoming sentence.

They finally came to a stop just outside my cell. There was a loud bang on the door and then it opened, the hinges screaming in protest as it swung into the room. They lingered in the doorway hands poised at batons on their belts ready for anything. It was the same ritual daily. I was being treated like a dangerous felon. At first it had angered me but now I was just tired of the charade. I’d killed because I had to. Lust had invaded Cora’s body and was hurting too many innocent people for me to stand by. I would never kill a person intentionally or without cause.

A second later both Munroe and Hutton stepped inside the cell. Munroe was a middle-aged man, the tired lines on his face marking the weariness that was beginning to tell on him. He completed his job according to the rules but wasn’t willing to step either side of the line. Hutton on the other hand was different. She was younger and had kind but keen eyes. Whenever I saw her, it felt like I was being weighed up and sometimes I think I fell on the right side of her judgement.

Morning, Dawson, Munroe greeted me. His dark eyes fixed me for a second, a man used to assessing for danger, and then he spoke again, Would you like some breakfast before your appearance?

My appearance. The words stuck in my throat and for a second, I struggled to breathe. I forced the lump back down my throat and took in a huge gulp of air, finally meeting his eyes again. I don’t think I could eat. A drink maybe?

He nodded. I’ll bring you some water.

Hutton’s arm darted out and caught Munroe before he left the cell. Make it tea. When she glanced at me again, just before she followed her partner, I swear there was a smile plastered on her lips. I would have smiled back, if I could have. Instead everything weighed down like lead inside of me. My limbs didn’t want to move, and my stomach threatened to throw up the meagre contents it contained as I thought about what was coming.

It rushed through my mind in a whirlwind of images from the recent past; finding out I could see things from the otherworld, becoming a demon Hunter and joining The Agency, realising the seven sins were somehow, inexplicably, linked to me and fighting them all one by one. Discovering that The Agency in fact, had its own agenda with Sheila at the helm steering its course. Fighting a demon that became a danger to me. Entering the dark world of the demons. The brothel.

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, the cool of the wall worked through my t-shirt acting to cool my rising panic. Killing Cora. That’s why I was sitting here in a cell, deemed too dangerous to the public to be allowed out on bail, waiting for my sentence.

Still, as soon as Melody’s face came into my mind, I knew I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I’d done it all for her, to protect her, and if that meant spending time locked away, then I was glad I had done it. Gemma and Kirsty crossed my mind, both in their short skirts. All of them were lured into the brothel by Lust, used for the demon’s own gain. I shuddered as I thought of them in that place. I saw a flash of Melody’s face as she greeted her customer, patting the bed where she sat, still so young.

My stomach knotted and steeled. No matter what, I had made the right decision. No matter who it was in that house I couldn’t have left those girls to the wiles of a demon dressed in the skin of a woman. No