A Demon's Wrath: Part I (Peachville High Demons)

By Sarra Cannon

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Sarra Cannon

eISBN: 978-1-62421-022-8

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Cover Design by Robin Ludwig Design, Inc.
http://gobookcoverdesign.com/

Find Sarra Cannon on the web!

http://www.sarracannon.com

To all the loyal fans of the Peachville High Demons series. You have made my dreams come true.

The Human World -Present Day

In my lifetime, I have been known by many names.

Denaer
. The name my mother and father chose
for me on the day I was born. In the world of my ancestors, this name
meant favored one. Blessed because I was a twin. A shared
soul—something very rare and powerful among my kind.

Wrath
. The name the witches of the
Peachville coven gave me when, in my rage and my sorrow, I
slaughtered so many and forced my way into their world.

Jackson
. My human name. The only name I
chose for myself. In this world, the name means God has shown favor.
It was the closest I could find to my demon name and at the time, I
thought it was ironic that one such as me could be considered blessed
after all I’d done and all I’d lost.

But tonight, on Halloween, the anniversary of the
day my brother was taken from the demon world and brought here to be
a slave, I knew that I was blessed.

Below, the sound of laughter and music carried up
the stairs and into my bedroom.

It was the laughter of those I loved most, safe
and free after all this time.

I smiled and pulled my shirt on, my hands
trembling slightly as I buttoned each of the small buttons. I
straightened my arms, then closed and opened my fists, but they were
slightly numb. And sweaty.

I wiped my palms against my black pants and took a
deep breath in and out.

Tonight would be one I would never forget, and I
wanted it to be perfect.

Two stones weighed heavily in my pocket and every
time I moved or took a step, I felt them brush against my leg.

One was a memory stone made of quartz.

The other was a smaller stone locked inside a
golden case.

Closing my eyes, I took another deep breath. In
order to move toward my future, I knew I would have to face my past.
If Harper was to ever really understand me, she would have to also
understand my greatest triumphs and my darkest secrets.

I walked to the window and looked down. This was
where she had been standing when I first saw her. Our eyes met and
there was an instant connection. Something neither of us fully
understood at the time, but that would change us both forever.

I reached my hand inside my pocket and closed my
hand around the cool quartz.

I searched my memory, trying to decide where it
all began. Where my story should start. Then, I let the images of my
past flow through me and into the magic of the stone where they would
be locked inside for Harper to see.

The Shadow World - 101 Years Ago

The flame barely missed my head as it sailed past.

My eyes widened. “Careful,” I said,
scowling at my brother, Aerden. “You almost hit me with that
one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can’t help it
if you’re too slow.”

Fine. If he wanted to play rough, I’d give
him rough.

I lifted my hand toward the stream that ran beside
us. A long, thin rope of water rose up, curling into a circle on one
end. I thrust my hand forward and the rope sailed through the air,
then slipped over Aerden’s head. I pulled back, tightening the
rope around his neck.

But before I could turn the water into ice, he
shifted into a swirling mass of black smoke.

The water lost its form and splashed against the
black rock below.

Crap. I was never fast enough.

I followed Aerden’s trail, but miscalculated
and realized my mistake too late. Misdirection was one of his many
strengths in battle and today especially, I was finding it hard to
keep up.

The sharp edge of his axe pressed against the back
of my neck. I tried to shift, but I was too late. Pain held me to my
solid form.

Aerden laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound.
He was tense and angry, and I couldn’t make sense of it.

“What’s gotten into you today?”
I asked when he finally removed the blade from my neck.

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you
mean,” he said. “We’re just sparring. It’s
not like I was really going to hurt you.”

I rubbed the spot where the blade had dug into my
flesh. “You could have fooled me,” I mumbled.

“Again?” he asked.

When I looked up at Aerden’s face, black
smoke swirled around him like a tornado. I swallowed, narrowing my
eyes at him.

“You sure you’re alright?” I
asked.

“I’m fine,” he said through
clenched teeth. Where his form usually looked clear and distinct when
we were sparring, today he looked like he was cloaked in shadows.
Dark smoke swirled all around him in fast, uneven circles. “Are
we going again or not?”

He was definitely not fine.

“I can’t,” I said. “I
don’t want to be late for the rehearsal.”

He kicked a rock at the edge of the water and it
burst into flames so hot, it melted and oozed over the side.

I’d never seen him act like this before, but
the closer we’d gotten to the day of my engagement ceremony,
the more his attitude had soured. Whenever I tried to talk to him
about it, though, he refused to talk about it.

I bent down to collect my shirt and weapons and
happened to look up just as Aerden lifted a large black rock. He
reared back and threw it at me with even greater speed than he’d
thrown the fireball.

I barely shifted in time to avoid a major
concussion.

The rock passed through my shadow and I pushed
through the air toward him, anger surging through my veins.

“What the hell was that for?” I asked,
reforming and getting up in his face.

“What do you mean?” he asked, meeting
my gaze with a look of steel.

“I mean, I told you I was done for the day.
You’ve been in a crappy mood all morning,” I said. “Do
you want to talk about this? Or are you going to keep pretending you
don’t care?”

He turned his face away and walked over to where
we’d left a few canisters of spring water.

“Fine,” I said, turning my back on
him. “Don’t talk to me about it. I’m done.”

He raised his canister above him and guzzled down
half the water in a few seconds. He didn’t even look over at
me.

“Aerden, I’m serious about this,”
I said, not wanting to leave things like this between us. “I
didn’t ask to be chosen for this. I’ll gladly hand it
over to you if that’s what you want.”