Devil Snare Novels & Stories

Just the slow, creeping numbness of inevitability. Until I hear it. A rumble in the distance. Low. Dangerous. Familiar. Then comes the scent—**woodsmoke and wild earth.** My heart abruptly slams against my ribcage. I know that smell as intimately as my own breath. **Adam.** The walls tremble as a deafening **snarl** reverberates through the stronghold. Shouts ring out, followed by the sickening crunch of bone and flesh being torn apart. I pull myself up, blood rushing to my head just as the dungeon doors splinter open.

Dean roared in approval as I pushed him closer to the trap. The rogue’s foot brushed the edge of the mechanism, and I seized the opportunity and shoved him into the center of the trap. The steel jaws snapped shut with a deafening clang, locking around his leg. The hunter howled in pain, thrashing against the restraint, but it held fast. A net covered in wolf's bane mixed with wolf’s pit fell on top of him and he screamed.

I whisper in fear. Tsking, and biting his lip, he shakes his head. “Oh, no. Don’t think of it like that,” he says sweetly, his nefarious smile shifting to sweet and beautiful. “I’m just a fragment of dust of what you may term as the devil. So small and useless until I’m given instructions by my boss. In this case, Mr. Memphis, otherwise known as Devlin, and the water of power he pours to me in form of instructions, stirs my little particles into a pile of mud and I get my power from him. But for now, I’m nothing more than a human just like you and everyone else in your little world.”

Clearly having lost his calm, Ben shouted, "Where is your proof?!" I pointed at the woman's neck and declared, "As far as I know, my sister-in-law May has a birthmark shaped like a square behind her neck. Meanwhile, this new wife of yours has the exact same birthmark!"

He cursed under his breath. At first prince Arthur couldn't take his eyes off the red ones peering at him, it was as if he has been glued to those flaming eyes, but that spell lost it effect on him the moment he heard another growl from the massive creature laying on the floor with an arrow stuck in his heart. ‘ isn't this what they call caught between the devil and the deep blue sea?, but then no matter how beautiful the sea might appear, the devil you know is far better.’ “Ahhhhhhhh"

Maybe start planning my next escape for real this time. And then—he did something that caught me off guard. Ronan Blackwood, the Devil himself, squatted in front of me. Not stood. Not loomed. Squatted. Eye level. Holding two glasses of wine in his large hands. “What’s the problem?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. I looked away. “I’m fine,” I muttered.

Sasha’s POV. “What’s your name?” the devil asked, breaking the long silence that reigned after my demand. I pretended not to hear him. “You’re not deaf, are you?” “What do you need my name for?” I spat, unfolding my arms. “I do not answer to you, remember? You’re just my possession.” Right. You should yank it out of my mouth, then. “So do you have a name or not? Don’t test my patience,” he growled.

I decided to stick to associations, so I could match some facts about those people… in the stupider way the better. “Ginger-hair Elliot Walton, purchasing department… He reminds me of a squirrel gathering nuts… I would call him Mr. Squirrel. Then we have… Harvey Brown, Nolan Fortin's deputy, sniper… He looks unpleasant… sneaky… a sneaky-sniper… I will call him Mr. Sneaky-Lizard!” I used my imagination to the fullest.

“Do you know what I see, Erik?” The man called Erik gave a brief nod. “He’s compromised.” Tristen’s eyes gleamed. “Exactly.” He turned the tablet so Erik could see again. “The mighty Dante. The cold-hearted butcher. The Devil of the Calhoun Mafia,” he said mockingly, “being hugged like a schoolboy by some pretty little thing in his house. And not just letting it happen—but returning it.” He sat back. “I knew it. I knew the moment she entered that house, she would be the crack in his armor.”