UnholyCravings

Unholy Cravings

Suzanne Rock

Book 2 in the Immoral Hungers series.

When Soren and Donar escape their
hellish prison, their memories are erased and evil threatens to consume their
goodness. They find solace in the same woman, a healer who’s lost faith in her
powers and the respect of her people. As the men spend time with Tara, they
begin to change…each taking on personality traits of the monsters inside them.
They try to resist, but when Tara’s life is threatened, the darkness entwines
with their human side, transforming them into sexually charged beings who crave
so much more than the healer’s soothing touch.

Tara knows she should be wary of
the evil inside Donar and Soren, but she craves their erotic interludes, only
feeling complete when surrounded by both men and monsters. She wants to help
them control their inner darkness, but can only offer peace to one, dooming the
other to a life of torment. Who should she choose to save? With each erotic
encounter, it becomes more impossible to decide.

Unholy Cravings

Suzanne Rock

Chapter One

Donar collapsed behind the bush and tried to catch his
breath. How long did they have to keep running? Any normal human would have
given up the chase by now. Then again, they weren’t being chased by normal
humans.

Soren, his best friend and twin brother, collapsed beside
him and took off his boot.

“Did you see them?” Donar asked.

Sonar shook his boot over the ground until a small rock fell
out, then slipped it back on. “They aren’t that far back. I think it’s only a
matter of time before they find us.” The moon’s rays shone down through the
trees overhead and highlighted the small fleck of a diamond in his right ear.
Donar wore a matching earring. They had gotten them as teenagers. It was part
of a rite of passage into an elite club of assassins and a bonding experience
for both of them.

That life was over, however. Two years ago they had vowed to
go legit and had been recruited to be part of a secret FBI unit. Working for
the government was supposed to bring some stability to their lives, but instead
everything got even more fucked up.

“What do we do now?” Soren asked.

Good question.
Donar ran his hand over his face. It
felt as if they had been running forever. They needed to get somewhere safe,
but where?

“I don’t know. There’s a mole somewhere within the FBI, so
we can’t go to them, and goddess only knows where Darien is hiding.”

“Shh…” Soren put his finger to his lips and sat up. “You
hear that?”

Donar strained his hearing. “No.” Then it was there, a sound
off to his left. He widened his eyes.
Footsteps.
“Well, fuck me.” How
could the
deahmans
find them so quickly?

“I don’t understand why we have to do this in the middle of
the city.” Urian’s voice traveled through the crisp, cool air to where the
twins hid. Urian had been their teammate, another agent betrayed by the mole
within the FBI ranks. Now he was a monster, a
deahman
, and his goal was
to find and kill Donar and Soren.

“Ah shit.” Soren winced as he grabbed his stomach and shut
his eyes.

Donar clamped his hand over his brother’s mouth. “Shh, they’ll
hear you.”
Please, not now, brother. You’ll get us both killed…

Soren was having another round of pain. The darkness inside
them both was eating them alive. If left unchecked, then the evil would consume
everything good about them, leaving only emptiness and hate. Then they’d become
the very things they hunted, the very monsters that were chasing them now—
deahmans
.

Deahmans
were the things of nightmares, vile
creatures of the underworld who wanted to take over Earth and make it as
corrupt as their home. Soren, Donar, Urian and the rest of Darien’s FBI team
were the only things that stood in their way. That was, until they were
captured, tortured and tainted with an evil so strong that none of them could
fight it.

Urian had succumbed to the evil inside of him and Darien had
vanished. Soren was supportive, but couldn’t make decisions if his life
depended on it. He preferred to follow Donar’s lead. It was up to Donar to get
them out of this mess and to thwart the
deahman’s
plans. That was a
hefty responsibility for one man. Never before had Donar felt so helpless and
alone.

“FBI headquarters is right around the corner, for fuck’s
sake. It’s suicide,” Urian’s voice trailed back to them as Soren buckled over
into the fetal position on the ground. Donar covered his brother’s body with
his own. If Soren started thrashing, then the noise would alert the
deahmans
and they’d be both dead.

Donar kept his hold tight on his brother as he peeked around
the bush. Three humans, all taller and paler than any normal human he had ever
seen, walked in a straight line toward a large tree just off the path.

“Shut it, slave,” the leader shouted over his shoulder to
Urian.

Urian’s eyes narrowed as he fell in line. His thick, black
hair was tied at the base of his neck with a leather strap, and his once olive
skin had paled to the color of moonlight. He looked less human, more monster.
There was no doubt in Donar’s mind that if he called out to his friend, Urian
would kill him on sight.

Donar glanced up at the night sky. The moon had already
begun its dip back to the horizon. They didn’t have too many hours before the
sun would be back in the sky. The sun’s rays were like poison for
deahmans
,
frying their skin with third-degree burns. Donar and Soren only had to last a
little while longer before the
deahmans
would be forced back into hell.

He looked down at Soren, who seemed to be in the throes of
his episode. Soren was fighting it, but the evil presence inside of him was
winning. Donar knew through experience that it would be at least another ten
minutes before his twin would find peace.

Donar felt helpless as he peeked back around the bush at the
deahmans
. They didn’t look like a search party. Instead they strode with
purpose, as if they all knew their destination. What were they doing here?

Donar gritted his teeth as his own inner darkness rose up in
response to the nearby
deahmans
. He had to stay in control. If he became
as useless as Soren, then they’d both be dead for sure.

Urian slowed his steps and looked around. Then another
deahman
slave slithered up to him. They whispered to each other as they followed their
leader.

Donar would give his front teeth to know what they were
talking about.

“Quiet!” Urian snapped at his friend. His eyes shone bright
crimson and his teeth appeared sharp and foreboding. Donar shrank back at the
forceful tone in his former friend’s voice, but it didn’t seem to affect the
other
deahman
. The leader glanced back at the pair, then dismissed them.

“This is all Darien’s fault.” Urian’s voice was just loud
enough to hear, and his hatred struck a chord deep within Donar’s soul.

Darien, their fearless FBI leader. Darien, their betrayer—or
so Urian wanted them to believe. Donar refused to believe that Darien would be
so cruel as to abandon them. There had to be an explanation.

They had descended into hell to retrieve the
deahman
stone, a relic that held enough evil to obliterate mankind. Instead of
destroying the stone, they were betrayed and made into
deahman
playthings.

It took months for Donar and Soren to find a way to escape
hell, but they still weren’t safe.

The
deahman
leader stopped in front of an old oak
tree on the far side of the common. The sun had set long ago and the inky black
night settled on the city. No one would stumble out to find them—not tonight.

The leader began to chant. He felt the familiar pull on his
psyche, forcing his muscles to relax and his thoughts to scatter. It was a
spell to make sure the humans in the immediate vicinity slept. Odd, that. If
the
deahmans
didn’t want to be seen, then why didn’t they just kill the
humans in the area? Then again, if those
deahmans
were half as tired as
Donar was, then they were much too tired and weak to do something like wipe out
a city.

He embraced the darkness inside of him and his inner
deahman
helped him to resist the temptation to sleep. Being a half-breed made him even
more vulnerable than before, it seemed. Donar felt Soren go limp.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he whispered. “It’s a spell.”

“I know.” Soren’s voice was clear, signaling that his
episode had finished. Donar straightened and stared at his brother’s eyes. They
were still a pale blue, thank the goddess.

Soren sat up and rubbed his temple. “What happened?”

“Shh.” Donar pointed to where the three
deahmans
had
gathered around the old oak tree.

The leader raised his arms and faced at the tree. “Come
forth, great spirit, and greet your faithful servants.”

An eerie quiet settled over the park. The leader urged Urian
and the other slave to raise their arms and kneel to show respect. Donar felt a
strong compulsion to follow the
deahman
lord’s lead. He resisted the
urge to kneel and instead braced himself against a nearby tree.

After a moment, a column of smoke sprung forth from the base
of the oak and swirled around the three
deahmans
. The smoke had the same
crimson glow that Donar had seen come from the
deahman
stone many times
before. Urian stood and inched back as it passed by him.

“Kneel, you fool!” the leader roared.

Urian knelt back down as the smoke curled and oozed to the
center of the semi-circle. Then it rose up to form a tall column.

The leader put down his arms. Urian and the other slave
followed his lead. Donar’s head began to throb with pain.

“What the hell are they doing?” Soren asked.

“I have no idea, but whatever it is, it’s affecting my
deahman
,”
Donar said.

“Mine too. The bastard is running around like crazy in my
head. I think there is a presence here that’s calling to it. I sensed it
earlier.”

“You could be right.”

The smoke climbed upward, changing colors as it moved from
blood red, to a deep blue, to a royal purple, to smoky gray, to finally a
brilliant gold.

When it dispersed, a large man—too large to be human—stood
before them.

“I don’t like this.” Soren started to back away, but Donar
put his hand on his arm to stop him.

“Just a few more minutes. This looks like it’s important.”

“Do you want to die?” Soren asked.

“We won’t die.”

“But—”

“Shh.”

The
deahman
leader pressed his forehead to the
ground. “All hail, most evil one.”

Donar felt an enormous imaginary hand push down on his head,
so that he had no choice but to bow as well. He saw Soren bow out of the corner
of his eye.

“You disappoint me,” the figure said.

The
deamhan
lord kept his head to the ground. “It was
that human, Darien Lange. He helped the
Iatros
destroy the stone. This
is all his fault.”

“Silence!” the figure roared. “I am all-powerful and all-knowing.
You think you could fool me with your
deamhan
lies?”

“No, sir.”

“Silence! Stand up.”

The
deamhan
lord stood, but still kept his eyes
focused to the ground.

“You have disobeyed me for the last time. I have not poured
my life—my blood—into helping you forge the stone only to have my plans
destroyed by incompetence.”

“Yes sir.”

“As punishment, you will lead no more.”

“But—”

The figure held up his hand. “I have already chosen a
successor—someone who knows how the mind of this Darien Lange operates.”

The
deahman
leader gnashed his teeth. “Tell me. Tell
me his name.”

The figure shifted his gaze over the first slave, then
focused on Urian. “Names are inconsequential to you now. He knows who he is.”
He turned back to the leader. “I have already planted the seeds of rebellion in
his mind.” The figure frowned. “Look at me.”

The
deahman
leader looked up from the ground and
faced the large spirit. The figure put his hand on the leader’s shoulder. “You
are incompetent, but strong. Your power will go into cloaking the new stone I
will forge once all five shards are found.”

The leader’s pale face fell.

The figure laughed. “Consider it a privilege. Not everyone
gets their soul fed to the stone.”

“Shards?” Soren asked.

“Shh,” Donar said.

“You’ve disappointed me for the last time,” the figure
continued. “Now feel the power that birthed the stone.” He curled his fingers
in a come-to-me type of way. The
deahman
lord’s eyes went wide with fear
as his body seemed to move of its own accord. He whimpered as he walked up to
the tree and wrapped his arms around the large trunk.

As soon as the
deahman
leader touched the tree,
something in the air changed. A loud inhuman cry escaped his lips as his blood
poured out of his ears, eyes and every other opening in his body.

“What the hell is going on?” Soren asked.

“I don’t know.” Donar glanced at his brother. “Your jeans
are glowing.”

Soren reached down and pulled a small shard of crystal out
of his pocket. “It’s the shard we found back by the portal. Do you think it’s
part of the stone?”

“Put it away, you idiot. Do you want them to see us?”

Large flames erupted from the ground and surrounded the
deahman
leader’s body. The smell of burning flesh stung Donar’s nose. He made a face
and turned away, unwilling to watch the torturous display any further.

“What’s happening to Urian?” Soren asked.

Donar glanced back and saw Urian jerked his head up to the
sky. A look of pure ecstasy flooded his features. Then he met the figure’s
gaze.

“What the…” Donar couldn’t help but stare at the scene
before him. What was going on?

The figure’s face softened, and it seemed as if they were conversing,
although no words were being spoken.

After a few moments, Urian nodded to the spirit, then stood.

The spirit hesitated and then nodded as if making a
decision. Then his fist sliced through the flames and smashed the
deahman
leader’s charred skull. Donar shuddered as pain exploded through is body. Both
he and Soren fell to the ground and writhed in agony.

Then the sensation vanished. Donar scrambled to his feet and
peeked back toward the large oak. The flames had died away, changing into an
inky black fog. The cloud swirled in the air, then dipped and circled the pile
of ash on the ground.

The spirit’s cry shattered the night sky. The mist swirled
and oozed around both the spirit and the
deahman
leader’s remains until
it covered both of them completely.