Erotica Harem

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Title: "Invalid Item"  (Demon in the Basement)

Chapter: "Invalid Entry"  (Chapter 12)

Author: Lady Rook

Plot: Plot has been shown and the conflict arises in a battle. Great job, Traci.

Scene: Nothing! Bye bye.

Character Development: I had some questions about the fight scene and they are pointed out below. I didn’t get a good picture of what was happening, but it could just be me though.

Grammar: Please see below. Man, have you become the Comma Queen. They are just so behaving, Ms Editor! I’ve offered some minor suggestions, and that’s what they are – use what you will.

Personal Opinion: You ended the chapter very well. For me, I wanted something worse to happen Lucien, but then again, I wonder if Emme and Nazan’s story will continue.

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Please remember that these are only my opinions.
Please use whatever you feel is right for you.
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Chapter Twelve – Blood
Nazan flew into the inky black that hazed over Emme’s house. He circled, sniffing the air with an angel’s inferior sense of smell. He missed his demon nose at that moment. The darkness that settled over the yard below was unnatural, a spell created by his enemy, the mage. He drew his wings against his body and dove toward the uncertainty. He knew she wanted Lucien, and Nazan knew she wanted him as well. The mage made her want him, forced her to see him as a thing of intrigue. She is mine, Nazan thought. My Emme will see through his lies.

The cloudy magic slowed his descent with memories of pain and suffering. He felt the knife cross his skin years before, the burn of cruelty in its honed touch a reminder that he was and always will be a follower, a slave. The men’s voices echoed in the basement as they circled him, their feral eyes glittering in the candlelight.

He fanned his wings and caught the air, bare, human-shaped feet lighting on the thick grass. Once in her yard, Lucien’s magic faded and Nazan saw him kissing his Emme. The mage held her hand in his. A jealous pang filled Nazan’s the angel’s (?) chest. He gasped for air and started toward the archway wishing he could snarl or growl. “Let her go.”

Lou grasped her hair and tugged her backward as he turned to face Nazan. The mage stood. He gathered Emme against his body, one arm crossing over her slight chest, pinning her there. Her eyes appeared empty, devoid of the hope Nazan always saw there, that determined belief that everything would be okay with time, work and patience.

Madness threatened the newly remade angel’s mind. Nazan strode forth, his feathery black wings folding behind him. “Release her!”

Lou narrowed his eyes. “As you wish.” He tossed her aside like a sack of garbage. Emme landed in the Cyprus mulch beside the garden path. Her limp body remained still, her face locked in an expressionless mask.

“What have you done?” Nazan’s bare feet crossed the cold flagstone in silence. He stood before the mage, his fist raised.

“I’ve only claimed what’s mine.” Lou stepped toward his opponent, his hands lax at his sides, his eyes shifting up and down Nazan’s form. “Who sent you, messenger? Why have you come?”

“You don’t know me?” Nazan’s feathers ruffled behind him in his anger. He circled Lucien, ready to down the monster of a man should he make a false move. Sirens sounded in the distance.

“Every worthy Christian follower has an angel. So you can’t belong to me.” One brow rose over a slanting green eye. “Certainly, you don’t belong to her. She’s not worshipped any god in her lifetime.”

“My Father does not require worship, only faith.” * I love this line, Traci.

Lucien snickered. His laughter echoed in the enchanted garden, bouncing off the plants and dancing in the shadows. He was a vile man…but then, Nazan realized, perhaps Lucien was not a man at all. He bridged the distance between them, reached back and willed his weapon into existence. The flaming sword of wrath crackled through the night air. The burning blade met its mark and gashed a violent cut across the mage’s chest. I just read this yesterday and I’ve tried researching for the site again and can’t find it. Anyway, it was an article from a romance publisher who stated that the two useless things she saw in writing is the word “then” and semicolons. Carol stated this too (about the semicolons). With the sentence above, I have to agree that it reads far stronger without “then.”

Lucien fell backward, caught his hold on the wall, and looked down at his injury. “Oh, you’ll pay for that, angel.” He threw off his suit jacket, unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt, and threw it to the ground. “Two can play at that game.” He reached back and summoned his own weapon. The blade came crackling from the darkness, a sword of mist and shadow. It arced in the air as Nazan leapt away.

He blinked at the strangeness of the familiar weapon. The name of its wielder rested on the tip of his tongue. He faced Lou, readied his weapon and spit the vile word out. “Shemhazai!”

Lucien cackled. “Oh? You know me, my brother?” He swept his blade through the air. It moved without sound until it met the edge of Nazan’s. Fire sparked and spat its vengeance. His arms tightened, his muscles bulged. The bloody cut across Lou’s chest glittered as red crimson (?) dribbled down his skin. “Yes, that was the name our father gave me.” He clenched his teeth and lunged forth, throttling Nazan into the iron arch at the entry. “Tell me,” he began. “Has Father forgotten me?”

Lou’s knee came up hard and crushed into Nazan’s crotch. Pain pounded through his body at the indignant blow. He cried out, his breath dangerous and unsteady. Holding his sword against his enemy’s became difficult.

“You can’t beat me.” Lou’s mouth twisted in a hate-filled snarl. “Father’s plays games. He had favorites and I was one. He made me stronger than the others, more powerful than you.”

Nazan grunted, an old habit from years of being in another body. He shook off his aggressor and raised his blade. “She’s mine!” he shouted.

“Wrong.” Lucien lunged, violent, sure of himself.

Pain seized Nazan’s right wing. Muscles squelched and severed. A black mass slumped against the arch. It fell to the ground in a heap of feathers and gore. Nazan screamed.

“Stupid angel. What do you need wings for on earth? Why would you want to fly back to heaven when there’s so much pussy to find here? Don’t you know how they want us? How they desire us?” The blade whispered.

Nazan countered the second attack, but barely. His sword slid down the length of Lucien’s. The edge caught in the stones and he watched, helpless, as the mage cut off his remaining wing. It thumped hard on the stone path. Blood ran hot down his back. “Bastard,” he cursed. “You have no father.”

“That’s right.” Lucien sneered. “And now I have a new treasure. I’ll keep you in the basement while I fuck her in the bedroom. If you’re a good little angel, I’ll fuck her in front of you.”

Nazan let go of his blade. He looked to the heavens, (comma) wondering why this battle had gone so wrong. “Father,” he whispered. “Why have you forsaken me?”

Standing above him, Lucien sighed. “Stupid angel. You know nothing.” He started away, his dress shoes tapping on the path.

Nazan turned to watch him and noticed the bumps on Lou’s shoulders where wings once protruded. He wondered if the fallen angel had cut them off himself. He knew he had. * This kind of stopped me here. He’s wondering if Lou had cut them and then he knows he had. Why? What gave him this confirming knowledge?

Lucien lifted Emme’s petite body and heaved her over his shoulder. His sword dropped to the ground and sank into the shadows. “Come on then. Come see your new home. She’s a fine housekeeper, likes to keep things tidy.” He slapped her ass and strode past Nazan toward the house.

He crawled across the lawn after them, his need to protect Emme from Lou (no comma) When did Nazan fall to the ground? driving him past the ache in his shoulders. The loss of his wings hurt, but not as much as it would if he lost Emme as well.

Lou left the back door ajar. Nazan crawled across the wooden floor. Behind him, a crimson trail of blood followed. The sirens were louder now. Someone had called the police. Blue and red lights strobed in the parlor through the front window. Nazan could hear the men outside. He tasted their uncertainty in the air.

Crawling faster, he found Lou in the bedroom.

Lucien pushed away his pants, oblivious to his surroundings. Above his ass, a stump stood out, the remains of a tail. He’d cut that away as well. He’d laid Emme on the mattress and parted her legs. With a knowing glance over his shoulder, he grinned. “You want to watch, don’t you?”

Emme moaned. Her foot swayed for a moment, then went still.

“She’s mine,” Nazan whispered. “You can’t have her. Even if you fuck her, she’ll still be mine. She loves me.”

“Right.” Lou shook his head, and leaned forward, his attention to the woman.

Nazan stood up, his fury unbound. He grabbed Lou in a headlock and forced him away from her. They battled in the bedroom, blood slicking the floor and sending each slipping into the wall. When Lucien tumbled beneath him, Nazan grasped his brother’s throat and choked him.

“What…are…you?” he asked the vile fallen angel.

Lucien’s eyes bulged. He struggled and fought. Nazan lifted him by his neck and bashed his head against the floor again and again. Finally, his eyes rolled up into his head. His breathing halted and gray, curving horns came into being, spreading from Lucien’s temples.

“You hid it,” Nazan said, understanding. “You are what I was. A demon.” He let go and stared down at the body. Knowing that a demon could not die, he backed to the bed, lifted his prize and fled, leaving Lou to the swarm of police that would enter at any moment.

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