Arthur Blue Exorcist Novels & Stories

Chapter 64: Santa Cruz Night Tuesday – The Day The next morning, sunlight slanted through the tall arched windows of BludHeaven Academy’s cafeteria, turning the polished marble floors into pools of liquid gold. The usual morning chaos was in full swing: younger students darting between tables, trays clattering, the rich scent of fresh coffee mingling with warm pastries and something faintly metallic that only the older vampires seemed to notice.

That’s how he found himself in the closest police precinct begging the officers to help him. “Please! Arrest me!” Rell screamed as he practically fell into the doors constantly looking back to see if the demon would follow behind him from his apartment, convinced he’d seen his horns in his rearview mirror. “Sir, please, calm down. Why do you think we should arrest you?” The confused officer asked, looking at Rell as if he was another strung out junkie just looking for a place to stay the night. “Tha- that man! That devil!” He screamed hysterically.

I came to find Arthur kneeling beside a particular grave, he held sunflowers in his hand and I watched as he muttered something and dropped the flowers on the grave. “So you stalked me” Arthur said, still facing ahead and I jumped, how the hell did he know? He turned and strode towards me, his blue eyes were bloodshot, his beard had grown out giving him a handsome roguish look. He glared at me. “I……I…… just wanted to see you” I said and he scowled, “Really?” He said, “I will say this once, don’t you ever stalk me again, did you hear?

"You're safe now." Aqua's vision blurred as the exhaustion and emotional toll overwhelmed her. Before she lost consciousness, she felt a gentle touch on her forehead, Aunt Cleo's magic weaving a protective spell around her. When she awoke the next morning in Cleo's home, the memory of the night before was a fragmented blur. Aunt Cleo had taken away the worst of it, sparing her the trauma of remembering how she had killed her attackers with dark magic.

Territory disputes. "No. Arthur killed them." Everything stopped. My heart. My breathing. "Wait." My voice came out hoarse. "Don't tell me it's the Arthur. Aurora mate" "Yes. It's the same Arthur. Arthur Hendrix." Of course it was. Who else could it be? The man was a walking nightmare, a monster in a pretty package. I'd known that the moment he stabbed me, the moment I saw the emptiness in his eyes as he drove that blade into my chest.

Arthur slowly brought out the weapon from his back, holding if firmly while Nicodemus hunted Witches like an hungry tiger. As Nicodemus almost reached for Sabrina, Arthur drove the weapon through Nicodemus heart. From his back with his Vampire speed. Nicodemus let out a loud groan as he fell to the floor wincing in pain. Meanwhile, Sabrina stood there lifelessly but Arthur didn't bother much. For all he cared, she might be in one of her vision lands. "That is the same pain you inflicted on me, the same pain you inflicted on those you love." Arthur mocked as tears trickled down Nicodemus face while he rolled in pain.

Arthur sighed for he was wondering himself of this question. Why he, Arthur Adamos, was waiting for the right time to claim his mate, Diana Marchand as if there will be something coming their way to separate them? Perhaps there was an obstacle. Her brother, Xavier, was the Beta of the Shadow Pack and Arthur doesn't want any trouble with him. Xavier can be scary if his sister was in threat. Arthur shook that question away before there was a commotion and a crowd was drawing up as he was approaching the incident. He saw the warriors that were on duty that night before he shifted to his human form before walking into the crime scene.

“What’s happening?” Arth clenched his fists. When he opened his eyes, they now glowed brighter in blue light, the cold wind circling him with speed. “Impossible …” Cedric whispered as he narrowed his eyes. “This familiar power … I’m not mistaken …You’re the …” Arth cast a side-grin as he unsheathed his sword. “I told you … I’m gonna kill you.”

"Ignatius doesn't send messages. He sends warnings." On the screen, Arthur—the once-golden Alpha of the Silver Moon—was strapped to a metal chair in a room that smelled of damp concrete even through the lens. His face was a pulp of purple and red. One eye was swollen shut. He wasn't screaming; he was past that. He just sagged, a broken toy in the hands of the 'Cerebral Demon' of the underworld. A hand entered the frame. It held a jagged piece of glass. It moved toward Arthur’s throat, hovering just above the pulse point.

Christopher said, interrupting, his eyes on me. I had a feeling the large flying thing Arthur had seen was Abernathy. "It was a demon," Arthur said, his face troubled. "A shadow, darker than the night, with large golden eyes that shone in the darkness, and tore into my soul." As he spoke, he studied the sky. "Are you sure?" Joanna asked, peering at the sky with him. It wasn't that she doubted him. That, I could tell. But she was worried.