Mark of Demons: A New Adult Paranormal Romance Novel

By Brea Viragh and Rebecca Hamilton

Druids on the loose, wolves out for revenge…what’s the Devil to do?​

Stella Andrila works for the Department of Metaphysical and Naturalistic Detection (D.M.N.D.) solving murders in New Orleans. The one thing she never expected? Someone to kidnap her.​

Upon escape, her life is thrown into turmoil, and the only thing left to do is to trust the one person she knows she can’t: the same man who threw her in a cage. She’ll have to rely on enemies and friends alike to help her track down the Creator and stem the madness before the world breaks. But with everything going wrong and the bad guys lurking around every corner, this proves to be her toughest assignment yet.

With archangels preparing to rampage and the secrets of the past coming to life, can Stella manage to stay one step ahead of fate? Or will the prophecy happen whether she wants it to…or not?

Fans of Linsey Hall, C.N. Crawford, and Nalini Singh will thrill to this slow burn urban fantasy romance packed with action, magic, and mystery!

Scroll up and one-click today to read what happens when it turns out Lucifer is actually a kick-ass female detective!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evershade Publishing
• Release date: Sep 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781949112474

Brea Viragh

Brea Viragh is a USA Today bestselling romance author. She's an avid traveler, sushi addict, and boho dreamer. She earned a Bachelor of Art degree at Berea College, and a dual Master of Science degree from Nova Southeastern University. She has written many genres including contemporary small town, paranormal romance, paranormal and urban fantasy, and all hot enough to scorch the pages. Her heroines don't shy away from dark, realistic situations as they navigate her elegantly crafted worlds. There may be some hard some hard lessons along the way, but Brea's characters need not look outside themselves to find home on their way to happily ever after. Brea loves all things magical. She is proud Gryffindor, a member of the Fairy Tail Guild, and a Brakebills University for Magical Pedagogy alumna. It is her personal opinion that a rainy day is best spent curled up on the couch with a book, coffee, and pet snuggles. She currently lives in the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia with her dog and 3 cats.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

I woke up to a splitting headache the likes of which the Devil had never seen before. Except I was the Devil, and I was calling bullshit on the headache because it really sucked.

At the moment, I certainly didn’t feel like the almighty condemner, ruler of Hell and lover of brimstone and torture of innocents. I felt like a college student on spring break who’d gone on an all night bender without sleep.

Except neither one of those statements were true, and when I woke up, I wasn’t in my cozy apartment in New Orleans. I wasn’t anywhere I recognized, actually, and thanks to being a fallen angel, I had a working knowledge of every place on this physical earth.

Except my current residence. Apparently.

It was a far cry from the Waldorf Astoria.

Chains shackled my legs to keep me in place, the metal old and freezing where it touched my bare skin with runes of binding etched along the exterior. Angel binding runes. Unbreakable, if my fuzzy vision told me anything.

I had a working knowledge of all languages, too. And what good did it do me now? What good did it do me in terms of finding a way to break those binds?

Clearly none.

The sides of my head pounded like someone had unleashed a rampaging elephant and used my skull to break the lock on the cage. A glance down showed I still wore the same bloodsoaked shirt and pant combo I’d had on when I defeated a hoard of angels yesterday.

Oh Heaven, I hoped it was still yesterday and a week hadn’t passed by without me knowing.

Okay, and defeated might be a pretty strong word for what had happened, but it was true. Ish.

I closed my eyes and tried to send a push of magic to at least change my clothes and make myself more comfortable. Nothing happened. Not one bit.

Did I expect it to? Well, maybe.

Hello? I called out. Anyone within listening distance who wants to help a girl out?

My voice reverberated back to me, pitched high and bell-like, far from the gravelly whisper of doom and gloom that most described.

Now I was sitting here, exhausted and hungry and very nearly human.

The room closed in around me. I fucking hated enclosed spaces, especially underground. My breathing went shallow, my chest aching, and I closed my eyes against the claustrophobia.

Stupid me. I tugged at the chains to see if they would flex or give. Nothing happened.

Hello? I called out again.

I was the Devil.

I was a government agent.

I was seriously screwed.

Another tug on the chains gave me the same outcome as the first time. Either I wasn’t strong enough to do anything besides lay there in pain and breathe, or these were more powerful bindings than the one in the cave.

Where was the rest of my team?

Had one of them succeeded in taking me hostage? Was that why I was here now? The idea had merit.

My memories were as blurry as my vision. I growled, tugging at the chains repeatedly. They didn’t budge. These were stronger than the other runes, an ancient dialect of Enochian that even I didn't know.

I tried to drop the human shield I’d adopted since jumping and let the full light of my divinity shine through.

Nothing. Not a single thing. Even a drop of my blood, thanks to a little tiny wound I ripped open with my teeth, resulted in a big fat nothing besides a new golden stain on my shirt.

I screamed then, jerking at the bindings and raging. Maybe I could rip the metal from the floor to break myself out of here.

Let me go or I am going to snap your teeth in half one by one until you have nothing but stumps left! I threatened whoever might be listening.

I wasn’t sure whether the room was soundproofed or not, but I did my best to make as much noise as possible. Talk about an annoying angel. It took about twenty minutes of frenzied screaming and beating the metal for the door to open.

My head whipped around at the sound, and I prepared to launch myself—to the end of the chains, at least—at whoever walked through that door.

The sight of Fox, smug alpha angel extraordinaire, smiling at me and holding a tray of food…had my breath catching and my head spinning.

Good morning, buttercup!

Good morning...buttercup?

My stomach dropped at the sight of my coworker—my partner—standing there with a stupid grin on his face looking like we’d met each other for lunch instead of one of us waking up tethered to the floor.

I might have thought him handsome on our first meeting. After all, most angels were traditionally beautiful beings, that much was understood. Fox’s attractiveness was tempered with a bit of humanity from his years on earth and accented with clothing that showed off his muscled physique.

Today he wore black pants stretched over his thick thighs and a red shirt. Berry red. A masculine, square jaw clenched the longer he looked at me—clearly expecting a smile I refused to give—and the berry shade of the shirt brought out the smoky dark gray of his eyes. I knew, if I looked closer, I’d see tiny gold sparks in the depths of those eyes. And they still made my heart jump.

They also made me want to spit on him.

Hair I had once called the color of a raven’s wing was currently slicked back and curled around his ears. Ears I’d also considered nibbling once upon a time.

His head shifted to the side as he stared at me. Aren’t you going to say hello, Stella? he asked. The deep rumble of his voice was designed to dampen the driest of panties.

Now, I knew his good looks were misleading. Clearly. I didn’t need to be a neurosurgeon to realize he was the one who’d captured me. I also knew better than to trust him, no matter what kind of last minute help he’d provided during our previous battle.

What the Heaven is going on? I asked him in an outrage, shaking the chains for emphasis. Did you do this to me?

His smile turned sheepish. Yes. I’m sorry. It was the only way.

The only way to what? Piss me off? Turn me into your sex slave? I mean, you’re a good looking angel; you can have whatever tail you want to without resorting to kidnapping. This doesn’t exactly put me in the mood to play.

Fox shook his head, shifting until his left hip cocked just a bit. The material of those dark pants stretched over muscles, drawing my eyes...even as my reaction repulsed me. If he turned around, I knew I’d see a tight derriere practically begging for a squeeze.

I hated him.

I wanted him.

I was his prisoner.

I’m sorry to have to keep you contained, he said. Especially like this. There are extenuating circumstances to consider. This was the only way to keep you here because I know how you roll. You blow off the handle for no reason.

Was he serious right now? Why did I feel like he wanted to turn the attention around on me?

"Yes, because this is definitely no reason. I shook the chains again. Care to let a girl know what's going on instead of leaving her to guess? You know my mind. I can come up with some pretty wild scenarios. Better you just tell me."

Fox drew closer and set the tray down in front of me—a tray containing a well balanced meal consisting of roast turkey on rye with mayonnaise, lettuce, and sprouts along with, what else, a damn donut. He balanced on the balls of his feet with his elbows on his knees and stared at me without a hint of remorse. There definitely should’ve been some kind of emotion on his face. Something besides the curiosity painted there.

Do you remember what we were talking about? he asked. When I knocked you out?

I don’t even remember you knocking me out. Thank you for the reminder, I told him darkly. I was definitely going to file the comment away to hold against him later. If I ever made it out of this mess. The damn man had had time for a shower. Where was the fairness?

You were talking about going after the Creator.

The Creator? Something shifted in my head and memories toppled down like sand in an hourglass. I compensated for the onslaught by glaring even harder at Fox. He refused to back down and as the seconds ticked by, I deflated. He didn’t want me to find the Creator.

Why? It was a simple question and one he may not have an answer to. The manacles seemed to bind tighter with each passing breath.

He arched a brow.

Did you bring me here to sleep with me? My next question erupted in the loudest whisper of my life.

Fox seared me through with a Look. Capitalized. When I take you to bed, Stella, it’s going to be because we both want it. Because one look, and we lose ourselves. Not because I have to resort to keeping you in chains, which I’m only doing right now for your own good. And the good of humanity.

Okay, I was a truly sick individual, because despite the current circumstances, his words got to me. And I hated the way a small bit of heat ignited in my lower extremities. Absolutely hated it because he smiled at me and my stomach felt like a fluttery little girl.

Keep talking, I said, and when I get out of here, I’m going to make you hurt. Not just dead, Fox. Hurt. There will definitely be torture involved.

He had the nerve to look insulted. There’s no need to resort to threats.

I think there is. I shuffled so my legs were crossed and my arms rested on my thighs to relieve the weight of the iron manacles. Go on, Fox. Tell me the rest of the story. What did you do after you knocked me on the head and caused me to black out?

Well, I used the angel killing sword to confuse you and brought you somewhere to keep you safe.

Do you really think your decision endears you to me? I asked, genuinely confused. You aren’t telling me everything.

I honestly don’t care what you think right now. He shook his head, still balancing on the balls of his feet, elbows on his knees. It's my duty to keep you safe. You’ve proven to be headstrong and stubborn in the worst ways. I took matters into my own hands.

Wow. I drew out the word. I didn’t realize you were a hero.

His gaze hardened. I don’t want you to think of me as a hero. I’m here to protect you. I get done what I have to get done. End of story.

How about you sit down here with me and tell me what you’re doing. In detail. I patted the area next to me on the floor. Come on then, Foxy Woxy, enlighten me.

His hand lifted to touch my cheek, stopping short of skin-to-skin contact. Then he shook his head. "Sorry. No."

Before I had a chance to prod him further, Fox rose, leaving the tray where it was and turning his back on me. And in an instant, he was out of there, the door slamming shut behind him.

I screamed. I couldn’t help myself. I screamed at him, wherever he was, until my lungs began to ache and my throat felt raw. Great. Good. This was absolutely peachy keen.

I worked for a small, under-the-radar branch of the United States Government called the Department of Metaphysical and Naturalistic Detection, affectionately known as D.M.N.D. or Damned. Along with a small crew of fellow fallen angels, Alpha Team, we patrolled New Orleans and the surrounding areas to keep the general public safe from the supernatural.

The last time I’d seen them all together had been before our last case that resulted not only in a dead wolf shifter pack, but an attack on D.M.N.D. headquarters, and my second in command losing her wings. For good. As in, permanently.

An angel killing blade had sliced them right off her back and used them, along with the blood of an entire pack of slain werewolves, as fuel to power a portal to Heaven.

A portal to Heaven sounds like fun and games until you know the reality. I didn’t want to go back to that place, but apparently a handful of my brethren were waiting with bated breath to come through.

Why, you ask?

To kill me, of course. To start a war.

My people were back at Headquarters, and they needed me. At least, I hoped they needed me. But it didn’t matter, because I was trapped here. Less a Queen of the Underworld, and more a Foolish Prisoner.

CHAPTER 2

Time passed slowly until my very bones ached from lack of movement and my desire to kill Fox became all consuming.

Without windows, I didn’t know whether it was day or night. When to sleep and when to wake. I made my own schedule and kept my thoughts to two subjects: how to escape, and how to make Fox die and have it look like an accident.

The lock turned in the door. Immediately shifting in that direction, I watched the man in question enter the room with another tray clenched in his hands. From what I put together, he came in twice a day with enough food to get me through the hours without starving, and always accompanied the delivery with what I had once thought of as his best feature.

A big old smile.

I’m sure you’re hungry, he said, using his foot to close the door and, yup, smiling. I brought your favorite. To cheer you up.

You brought death and destruction with a side of mayhem? I asked sweetly.

Clean, again, I thought as I looked him over. Jeans and a crisp white cotton shirt I knew would soak up and keep blood stains no matter how many gallons of bleach you dumped on it.

Fox didn’t bat an eye. More donuts, Rice Krispie treats, and chocolate. Plus water and coffee and orange juice because I wasn’t sure what you’d like to drink this morning.

The blood of innocents, of course.

Good thing my body didn’t work like a normal human’s, otherwise I would have been running to the bathroom every hour with his overly generous libations. The only generous thing about him.

Fox approached me without a bit of remorse for keeping me contained. Oooh boy. When I got out of this hell hole, he was going to get it, and without a hint of remorse from me.

My stomach grumbled at the thought of the sweets, however, and I placed both hands over my gut, hoping the motion would force it to quiet. You forgot my favorite, I ended up telling Fox. "So for all you think you know about me, you know nothing."

Let him stew.

Fox set the tray down and then reached into his back pocket for a small bag. Candy corn, my lady.

Aw, dammit. He did know.

It was time for a different tactic. Straight up anger and fury didn’t work on him. And no way would I resort to pleading. Over his dead body.

I shifted again, and although I wore my nasty clothes, I fixed a similar grin on my face. Something I hoped would come across as enticing rather than irritated. Thanks, Fox. You do know what I like.

You’re...thanking me. You must be going stir crazy, he muttered, shaking his head. I can get you some reading material if you want.

I didn’t want reading material. I wanted to wring his neck. But there was time, an eternity, to wait for the perfect moment. I appreciate it. You've gone to such great lengths to keep me safe.

A few days in solitary have really changed your tune.

He wasn’t playing along.

I needed to get him close enough to touch. At this rate…

Fox, I began, ducking my head to hide my expression behind my blonde hair.

What’s the matter?

A few more inches, and I’d have him where I wanted him.

Once, I might have thought I wanted him somewhere else. Somewhere a little more intimate.

He’d effectively murdered those thoughts.

How did you know my favorite candy? I asked.

He shrugged. It’s not hard to figure out. You’re rather predictable.

Wait until he saw my next trick, then, if that’s what he thought.

Trouble is, he continued, I can follow your every move. So, if you think you’re going to seduce me into getting close, then think of another plan.

I glanced up, my jaw half a second away from dropping open and staying down, to find him appraising me.

You see something you like? I purred at the appreciation in his eyes, fluttering my eyelashes at him. Want to sweet talk me? Say please.

Well, shit.

I gritted my teeth when I realized I’d done exactly what he wanted me to do. I’d resorted to seduction even knowing he was on to me.

I wasn’t planning on seducing you, I said with a nugget of truth. Then gestured down to my bloodstained outfit. Unless you find this kind of filth absolutely intoxicating. Do you?

His left eyebrow rose into his hairline and, under any other circumstances—IE where I wasn’t trussed up like a pig for slaughter—I might have found the gesture adorable. Fox was a good-looking angel.

But I knew what he was hiding. My co-worker had told me. Fox might claim to be an angel, but he didn’t have a divine spark.

So what he really was, I hadn’t a clue. He kept secrets better than billionaires hoarded their cash.

Maybe it is intoxicating, he commented loosely. On you. You don’t know because you haven’t asked me. You haven’t shown interest. You show up attitude first.

I narrowly resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Oh don’t tell me you have your panties in a twist because I haven’t complimented you lately. Kinda hard to be sweet toward you with everything between us. I held my arms out wide and added the clink of chains to the conversation. Do you understand?

If I’d paid more attention to my angelic intuition rather than my irritation at the case and the new partner, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Fox had infiltrated the Department for Metaphysical and Naturalistic Detection to get close to me. I was one of their best earthbound operatives. Or lackey, for lack of a better word. At least, I had been until Fox came in and screwed everything up. He had our handler wrapped around his little finger. Blasphemy, I called it.

I glared at him, considering how much effort it would take to rip his limbs off. That would bloody his pristine white shirt and he’d be filthy, just like me. My gaze slipped to his biceps. Hmm it would be awful to ruin such nice muscles. My gaze lingered a second too long.

Fox stood at the edge of the length of chain, because he knew—of course he did—just how much give I had.

He was about to find himself in a world of pain if he took a half step closer.

I understand, he said evenly. I’m not fishing for compliments. But maybe it would be nice to have a little compassion.

"You want compassion from me? I gawked at him. My stomach lurched. You really are nuts."

Bonkers and obnoxious. Fox wasn’t trying to chase his way into my pants, but he was a lying manipulative jackass. He expected me to feel sorry for him now?

Nuts I might be. Men with missions usually are. He took a step closer to speak to me and dropped his voice into growling territory. One day you’re going to realize.

Realize what?

I have a plan.

I’d stretched the metal far enough that the extra inch was all I needed. I swept out a leg and knocked Fox in the knee.

The moment he went down, off balance, I dragged him forward and leaped up, wrapping the thick chains around his neck once, twice, and bringing him close faster than he could draw his next breath. A simple tug, and we were at eye level. His gave nothing away. Mine watered.

You are going to tell me the truth, I snapped, or I’ll decapitate you. The decapitation is a threat and a promise I am prepared to make good on if you don’t tell me what I want to know. Now.

He stared at me, his cheeks going red from lack of oxygen, but he made no move to get away. The damn man didn’t even struggle. It took part of the fun out of this.

I loosened the chain, long enough for him to drag in a few good deep breaths. Long enough for him to be able to ask, Is that what you really want? To decapitate me?

A slight smile graced his face, and I wanted to smack him.

"Yes, duh. Tell me your plan and then let me out of here."

He continued to smile. You should be thanking me.

I blinked once. Twice. Tightened the chains again so he knew he’d pissed me off. How can I thank you when you’re the one who betrayed me?

And I’d had enough backstabbing to last me the rest of my immortal life.

I didn’t betray you. He gasped. I’m saving you from making a big mistake.

I suppose you aren’t going to tell me what it is? I tried to clarify, keeping my grip steady but refusing to loosen my hold.

He could choke for all I cared. But, a little voice argued, he wouldn’t be able to tell me his plan if he died.

It was a risk I wanted to take.

You can’t get distracted on meaningless tasks when there are real problems to face, Fox continued softly. Whether to get my attention or because he was running out of air, I didn't know. "We can’t afford