Hell or High Water (The Devil's Daughter Book 4) by G.A. Chase

Author:G.A. Chase [Chase, G.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bayou Moon Press, LLC
Published: 2019-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

12

Sere didn’t need to see the watch to know that hell and life were lining up like the earth and moon during a solar eclipse. Hell’s energy tingled her skin like static electricity just prior to having the bejesus zapped out of her. The opening of the hell mouth had been enjoyable while she was naked in Bart’s arms and invigorating while she was battling killer crawfish with him at her side. In her enemy’s lair and on her own, however, the energy rush from the impending hour of demonic fury might prove hard to control. To carry out her deception of Marjory, Sere needed to keep her cool—at least until she had her hands on Devlin.

Regarding what was happening directly in front of her, she knew what to expect. Somewhere in the professor’s hell-based equipment, whatever passed for Devlin Laroque’s soul lay dormant. His doppelgänger’s spirit—which Marjory would assume was located in an adjacent part of the program—would be bound tightly to the pellet Bart had fired into the mangled body. Without Andy at the controls in hell, Marjory wouldn’t know that part of her experiment was misaligned. The vault was an interdimensional portal between life and hell. By closing its door, she would activate the souls of the damned that her demons had captured. That power cord served to unite Devlin’s soul in hell with his reproduced body that Marjory and her scientist goons had hammered back together. How his demonic double—already locked in the body—took to the process, however, was anyone’s guess. Once the two were combined into one, the new devil would utilize the same bridge of the damned to power up his doppelgänger body. Then Devlin would be free of the professor’s equipment, free to determine his body’s age, free to regenerate as he chose, and free to terrorize the living until someone found a way of putting him down.

If Sere was clever, she might get to take one shot. Her body’s demand for action made it hard to think clearly. While Marjory busied herself with the baron’s journal writings on how to raise an immortal, Sere checked that her elegant white gloves were stretched high up her arms. Thin wires were looped under her armpits and down the sides of her corset and attached to the cellphone strapped against her leg. Making the call too soon risked alerting Devlin to the threat. So long as the billowy fabric didn’t inadvertently brush against the phone’s screen, all she’d have to do was rest her hand against her dress to establish the connection when the time was right. She just had to get close enough to Devlin to make contact before someone decided to shoot her, sneak the pellet through his flesh without him screaming like a banshee, and get past the guards and out of Marjory’s basement lair while still hanging onto the pellet in her paranormally powered gloved fist. Simple enough.

The truth was, she needed help, and it was out there. This time, though, her support group was going to have to find her.

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