Living Hell: 'Daughters of the Night' (On-Hold), Chloe Knox & TayTay2000 & Bookaholic25 [the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT] 📗

it! You fucking—“Lucifer mumbled wiping the spittle from his face and raising his hand to strike.

“Wait! Don’t!”

Lucifer sighed angrily and rolled his eyes turning to me, “What is it you want, Naomi?” He asked angrily.

The brunette’s eyes snapped to mine, eyes full of surprise and exposure. His eyes narrowed as he looked me up and down, and for a moment I thought I knew him. His eyes, there’s just something about them that’s so…familiar. NO! That’s impossible!

I quickly turned back to Lucifer, “I need to talk with you!”

“You! Escort Naomi to her room!” He yelled at the men in black. They looked from one to the other, then mentally decided for the one holding his wrists would escort me. The man began stalking my way and I panicked, “Wait! Please! Lucif—I mean! My Lord! I need to—“

“Will you shut her up!” Lucifer yelled, and the man listened.

Quickly, before I even realized what was happening, the man snaked one arm around my waist. His other free hand cupped over my mouth, muffling my screams.

With a rough jerk, which almost resulted in me tripping over my own feet, the man began dragging me to the door.

But I couldn’t just leave now? Lucifer, he was going to hurt him! He wasn’t going to show mercy to this man, and why? Does this man really want to die, all because he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut!

I bit down on the man’s hand as hard as I could, making him yelp and pull away from me.

“Ow! You bitch!” he yelled, grabbing me by my hair and tossing me onto the ground. I landed on the ground with a loud thud, but unlike mystery man, I was able to use my hands to break the abrupt fall.

Lucifer glared up at the man who had thrown me, and he surrendered throwing his hands up in the air, “She bit me!”

Lucifer’s glare turned to me, “I need to talk to you! About him!” I said, gesturing with my chin to the brunette on the floor by me. That peaked Lucifer’s interest enough to at least listen to what I had to say.

He let go of the brunette, ordering the men in black to hold on tight to him.

He then walked over to me, kneeling next to me, “What is it you want to say?”

“Don’t hurt him.”

“What? Why do you care—“

“Don’t hurt him, don’t threaten him, and don’t do anything to him or his family or friends.”

“And why would I take orders from you, a common whore?”

“Because if you don’t hurt him, threaten him, and be hospitable, unlike them.” I whispered gesturing to the men in black, “He’ll be more likely to cooperate with you. The nicer you are, he’ll realize that there’s no point in ‘biting the hand that feeds him’. If you show him, it doesn’t affect you, he’ll give up. He’ll be on your side.”

Lucifer listened to what I said, nodding, showing me that he understood me, “That’s actually a really good idea—“

“But,” I interrupted his out loud thoughts, “You can’t just apologize to him and expect him to surrender to you. It’s going to take some time for him to gain your trust, and you his. You’re going to have to be patient—“his nose wrinkled in dislike “—but in the end it’ll be easier than finding what makes the guy tick. And that means one less mess to clean up at the end of the day.” Lucifer smirked at that comment, “Alright! I’ll take your word for it, Naomi! Now, you may leave.”

I nodded, and stood, genuinely feeling like Lucifer trusted me on this. And it’s not like I was tricking him, I truly thought that what I had proposed to Lucifer would work. And I’ve never given a reason for Lucifer not to trust me. I’ve never tried to escape, never lied to him or Harold, and I’ve never dis-respected him—-at least aloud I haven’t, even with Aggie—-unlike some of the other girls.

I straightened out my skirt, and this time without reluctance, let the one man in black escort me to my room.

* * *

The moment I stepped through the door to mine and Agatha’s bedroom she was standing in front of me, eyes sleepy but ears ready to hear everything that happened tonight, “Are you okay? What happened? You can cry if you want to.”

I giggled. Agatha has always been good at giving advice and listening to my problems, but she’s very fast paced and blunt.

“I’m fine, really Aggie.”

“Really? I thought you’d be completely distraught. Now I feel like a wuss.”

“Aggie? Nothing happened.”

She froze, crossing her arms over her chest, “You expect me to believe that you’ve been up there for five hours and nothing happened?”

I rolled my eyes taking a seat on the end of my bed. Agatha followed me, and took a seat on the bed next to me, “Well no. A lot happened but nothing happened between me and Lucifer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Harold interrupted us, before anything went real far. He had a prisoner.”

“He interrupted Lucifer because of a prisoner?”

“Yeah! He didn’t even knock!”

“Huh! Must have done something really bad to have done that.”

“What? Who? Harold?”

“No! The prisoner must have done something really bad, to get Harold to just storm into Lucifer’s bedchambers.”

“Oh…Agatha?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s a shape shifter? You know a lot more about…the creatures of the underworld, I mean.”

“Well, it depends,” she said with a shrug, “There are plenty of types of shape shifters if you think about it. Werewolves, and werecats? They’re both shape shifters, but they’re not called that. When someone is strictly a ‘Shape Shifter’ they can transform into other people, as long as the person their changing into is alive.”

I nodded, “Oh, okay. Thanks.”

“Why you asking?”

“They were talking about it, in Lucifer’s room. I guess that’s what the prisoner is.”

Aggie's eyes went wide, “Stay away from him then.”

“Why? There’s something about him…he looked so familiar.”

“I don’t care if that guys your father, you stay away from him. Like I said, he must have done something really REALLY

bad to be here. And if he’s a shape shifter, he could disguise himself as anyone of us here. You need to be careful.”

I nodded to show that I was listening and understood, “Okay. But how am I going to know if he’s disguising himself or not. If I see you, and it’s really him, how will I know?”

“Easy. Look closely at the eyes. What color are his eyes?”

“Ummm, green.”

“Well then, for example, if he were disguised as me, my eyes would still be blue, but not completely. They would also have a bit of green swirling in them.”

I nodded, feeling really intrigued by this creature, ‘The Shape-Shifter’. I wanted to know more, but then Agatha yawned, and I suddenly felt guilty. She had stayed up all night; just like I had the night she turned sixteen, only she did it for nothing. She looked exhausted. I’d just have to talk to her about it some other time.

“Alright. I’ll definitely make sure to watch out for that. Thanks. Now go get some sleep!” I said, with a gentle slap on her bare thigh.

“Ouch!” she yelped, stifling another yawn, and then pulling the skirt to her white nightgown over her knees.

I giggled, “You are

a wuss.”

“Shut up!”

And at that note, we both went to sleep.

* * *

The little girl looked into the never ending black abyss of eyes the wrinkly creature had and screamed for help. But no one came for her! No one helped her! No one even so much as looked her way!

Wrinkly, boney, fingers tightened around her wrist, almost like nails digging into her pale flesh. The tight grip on her arm, stung, like the creatures hand was melting into her. She squeezed her eyes shut and squealed, silent tears rolling over her cheeks.

The creature opened its mouth, the smell of death suffocating her.

An annoying ring echoed in her eardrums when it screeched, its voice causing her whole body to shake at the sheer sound of its high pitch.

Then suddenly the gargled screeching of the wrinkly creature drowned out and was replaced by a high pitched scream that made my ears pop. The creatures scream was replaced with my own.

* * *

Quickly I jerked awake flailing my arms to ensure my safety. There were no wrinkly creatures that later in life I found out where called Wendigos—-cannibalistic creatures from Hell. Only Agatha, and unfortunately for her, she was slapped in the face.

“What! Oh my gosh! Agatha! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I—“

“Yeah! Yeah! I know! You were dreaming! It’s okay! It doesn’t hurt that bad,” she mumbled through quite moans of pain as she removed her hands from her face, revealing an eye which she just couldn’t open. A natural reflex that I too had when poking myself in the eye, which to most people might be impossible but no! I poke myself in the eye about just as frequently as I trip up the stairs…which I do a lot!

“Aggie, I’m sorry!”