Max's Desire Read online

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  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2018 Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-729-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Jessica Ruth

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Huge thanks for their help, support, and friendship to Lea Bronsen, Katherine Wyvern and Scarlett Knight. You guys are awesome!

  MAX’S DESIRE

  Alpha Protectors, 3

  Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  Max stood in position behind his brothers-in-arms. Sweat slithered between his shoulder blades, clinging to his flesh for a brief instant before continuing its downward path. A breeze ruffled the feathers on his wings, and he wrinkled his nose at the stench of rot and stagnant water. The South Wing always stank.

  Located at the bottom of the Hall of Portals, the place resembled an abandoned fort. Aged and decaying, the long corridor with its high roof and thick columns harbored seven arched gates. Each was shut with iron wrought bars ever since the incident of the Human-Guardian, Kaila, sneaking through one of them.

  Frankly, Max didn’t think it was a bad idea. Those giant entranceways led into equally large chambers, with smaller doors at the back. Therein lay the threat, for they were the portals into the Sins’ lairs: Wrath, Sloth, Lust, Greed, Gluttony, Envy, and Pride.

  From almost the dawn of time, the seven monsters dedicated themselves to toying with every living being, wreaking havoc and despair wherever they went.

  It was for that reason the Virtues created the Guardians.

  Max touched the tattoo on his left arm. He didn’t need to see it to be able to trace the half moon braided with tree vines and crossed over by a black arrow.

  Vince Malum.

  The two words were burned in his mind as if affixed there by a hot iron. Defeat evil. Destroy the Sins and maintain the balance. It was his purpose in life.

  A burst of adrenaline rushed through him, and he glanced at the door at the back of the room. Carved in stone, the image of a sexless being mocked them, alluring at one angle and defying with its beastly form at another. Above it, written in the ancient language and glittering under the torchlight, was the name of one of the worst sins known to mankind: Lust.

  Lust was not sex, for that was an integral part of all living creatures. It was a genderless beast which drove people into a state of out-of-control desire which devoured body, mind, and soul. A person entrapped by Lust lost sight of the virtues. They neglected love, hope, courage, or honor. They became empty shells focused on only one thing: mindless coitus.

  A bell chimed, followed by a loud crack and the ear-splitting sound of scraping stone. Lust’s door opened, revealing a crisscross of red lights shimmering through a thick mist. A strong gust dried the perspiration on his temple and brought in the smell of charred wood.

  Max folded his wings behind his back until his shoulder blades practically touched. He gripped the hilt of his sword, finding comfort in the hard steel against his leather gloves. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the passage.

  It was time. They might never win, but they would die trying.

  “Remember, Guardians.” The voice of their lieutenant, Eicca, rang through the cavernous space. “Vince Malum.”

  “Vince Malum,” the men chorused in unison.

  Then, like a well-oiled machine, they pushed forward. Two by two, they stepped through the portal to join their squad on the other side.

  Max glanced at his friend, and head of their squad, Killian. The blond’s blue eyes were stark against his tanned skin, and they glittered with determination. He nodded once.

  “Go, go, go!” the soldier at the door screamed at them.

  They walked through the dancing vortex. Max’s insides stretched and contracted, the tug on his limbs a painful yet welcome reminder he was still alive.

  The sensation vanished almost as fast as it appeared. He hit solid ground and ducked to the side, making room for those coming behind. Soldiers filled the clearing, their feet leaving prints on the ash-grey ground as they hurried to find their units. Weapons clattered and coded whispers fluttered through the withered and twisted trees surrounding them, tall frames offering little protection. They were exposed and vulnerable. Lust and its minions could ambush and annihilate them in seconds.

  Max clenched his teeth. This was the part of his job he hated the most. Standing in enemy territory, every cell in his body yelling at him to move, run, attack, but being unable to do so because their team was incomplete.

  Max fixed his gaze on the black castle looming in the distance. It stood high above a cliff, its thirteen towers extending claw-like spires to the blood-red sky. Was Lust there? Could it see them? Was it waiting for them with a bowl of popcorn, laughing at their attempts to diminish its powers? Was this nothing more than a game for the Sins? An entertaining show where little toy soldiers ventured into their lands every few weeks and created a tiny dent in their grand plan. Max licked his lips, the salty tang lingering on his taste buds.

  “Stop thinking,” Killian murmured. “This is not the place or the time.”

  “But it has to know,” Max said. “We follow the same routine, Killian. Every fortnight we come through the same place and do the same thing. Why doesn’t it do anything?”

  Killian scowled. “It’s not our place to question the order of things.” He poked Max on his tattoo. “Remember your purpose. We fight for good.”

  Max took in a deep breath. Killian was right. This was not the moment to be questioning the Sins’ ulterior motives. Their purpose was to destroy Lust’s advances, to regain a proper balance between the forces. Max’s eyes narrowed. He clenched his fists at his sides. The lives of millions of people depended on them.

  Abruptly, Killian clapped him on the back.

  “We’ll talk later,” he said. “Over here.” Killian waved to their comrades, Ethan and Noah. The men approaching them were like night and day. Ethan’s ebony skin glistened with perspiration. His muscles rolled and bunched as he moved, reminding Max of a slinking panther. Noah, on the other hand, was the embodiment of a tattooed archangel. Tall and fair, his long hair partially hid the words scribbled in bold on his chest. Conquer death.

  “Hey,” Ethan greeted them.

  “What took you so long?” Killian asked.

  “Some newbie didn’t move out of the way fast enough.” Noah chuckled. “Ethan practically ran him over. You know how much he likes traveling through dimensions.”

  “He should have known better,” Ethan grumbled. “So what are we waiting for?” he asked, thumbing the ax hanging from his girdle. “I’m ready to cut some limbs.”

  Killian grinned. With a quick flick of his wrist, he motioned for them to gather round.

  “You know the mission. West tower number one. We have two and a half hours before the horn blasts. We don’t separate and we move as one. Time to do our job and kill some Inferum.”

  “Aye,” they all chorused, slapping themselves on the back.

  They set off at a run, their boots crunching against the dirt and their weapons clanging at their side. Branches seemed to claw out in a futile attempt to stop them. After a few minutes, the landscape transformed, the trees thinning out into another clearing.


  “Up in two,” Killian commanded.

  They picked up speed and unfolded their wings. The movement sent a shot of energy pumping through him, viciously clamoring for more.

  “Now,” Killian ordered.

  Max leaped, propelling himself skyward with a strong down-stroke of his wings. Aided by air pressure, he quickly went forward and upward. Flapping, he gained lift and positioned himself into flight formation, which consisted of an inverted V.

  He glanced below. The terrain had transformed again, becoming a lush forest of blazing, red trees. Among the copses, he caught glimpses of the River of Endless Pain, roaring with strength. He frowned. Legend said the water came from the tears of Lust’s victims. If that were the case, it was truly a bountiful season for the Sin.

  “GH in five,” Killian called.

  Max’s heart pounded. In a few minutes, he’d see what was commonly known as the Garden of Hellish Delights. A sight which always made him slightly nauseous and sent anger careening into his veins. At the dawn of battle, he’d learned to welcome the latter.

  “Minus one.”

  Max held his breath. The trees had scattered, giving way to jagged rocks.

  “Three, two, one.”

  His stomach churned. The land dropped hundreds of feet into a valley of endless despair. Men and women alike, the souls of those who had permanently succumbed to Lust, were forced to indulge in activities which were far from pleasurable. Torture implements, giants, inexplicable monsters, beasts, and humans pushed and shoved. Max averted his gaze and sped up, hoping to diffuse the sound which would eventually catch up with him. During his first mission, he mistook it for the whistling wind, but the impression lasted mere seconds.

  He braced himself. The wail of thousands of souls begging for mercy surrounded him. Bile rose to the back of his throat. Anger clawed at him from within. His fingertips tingled and he recognized the oncoming surge of adrenaline which would drive him into combat. No one deserved to suffer forever. All those below had once loved, honored, been generous or kind. He couldn’t help them anymore, but he’d ensure the ones within the castle got a second chance.

  Another agonizing scream traveled from down below. Max shuddered. He landed at the top of the tower and drew his sword. The others did the same, though there was never anyone up here, for Lust welcomed everyone to its home as if it were the god of love and not Hell’s number one bitch.

  “You guys know the drill. We kill everyone. No exceptions. Remember the humans are not physically here. They’re dreaming back in their beds and won’t remember any of this.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get on with it,” Noah said, twirling one of his blades.

  Killian’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a glint of danger shining in their depth.

  “Vince Malum,” he said. “Let’s get rid of those bastards.”

  Chapter Two

  They walked at a crawl. Slivers of red light came from outside through the arrow slits, illuminating the cracked, spiral stairway. The muggy air grasped at Max with invisible hands, making it difficult for him to breathe.

  “Almost there,” Killian said, his voice muffled.

  Max tensed. His fingers tightened on his sword, his glove squeaking. A few more steps and they’d reach unchartered territory. Things were never the same within the towers. Much like her brothers and sisters, Lust thrived on chaos and illusions. One moment they’d be walking down an empty hall and the next a door would materialize, what lay within unknown.

  “We’re here.”

  Suddenly, the space widened into a long hall. All natural light vanished, replaced by flickering torchlight on sconces. Max took in a deep breath. The air was less stuffy in this area, the stone giving it a cool quality for which he was thankful.

  “Forward,” Killian ordered.

  They walked slowly, their bodies projecting thin shadows on the walls. The hairs on Max’s arms stood. Something stirred in the distance.

  “Twelve o’clock,” he murmured.

  “Aye,” the men replied.

  Max’s senses heightened. The flames crackled. He blinked and his mouth dried. A door had materialized at the end of the corridor.

  “Nondescript, as usual,” Ethan commented.

  “Yes. It’s what’s inside we should worry about,” Noah replied.

  “Time to find out,” Killian added.

  They became silent, approaching it cautiously. Lining up to one side, Max waited for the signal. It came seconds later in the form of a tap on his shoulder. Fluidly, he and Killian positioned themselves at the other side of the door. Max raised his fist, signaling the others to freeze. Then he ran his fingertips across the doorframe, checking for any traps. He indicated it was clear. Killian stepped ahead of him, swung his maul hammer, and brought the door crashing down. They burst inside, each of them taking a spot in the room and securing all possible points of attack. They needn’t have worried.

  Candles on bone-wrought holders illuminated the figure of a man tied to a St. Andrew’s cross. Max cringed. His back was a bloody mess. Behind him, an Inferum held what appeared to be a barbed wire whip. The demon glanced at them, sunken eyes glowing with unmistakable malice. He sent the rope flying.

  The crack of the whip mingled with the human’s howl. The sound reverberated through Max, sending heat flushing through his body.

  “Killian?” Max asked.

  “Do it.”

  Max advanced. To his surprise, the Inferum didn’t retreat. Bending his right knee at a ninety-degree angle, he stretched his back leg and used the momentum to impale the creature. The demon grunted. It glanced down at the weapon protruding from its center, then at the man on the cross. A hoarse cackle erupted from its lips tailed by a trickle of blood. With a guttural roar, Max withdrew his blade. The Inferum toppled to the side and seconds later, it vanished.

  “What the hell?” Ethan murmured. “I don’t think I’d ever seen an Inferum laugh at the face of death.”

  “I don’t think that’s what he was laughing about,” Noah said. “You guys should come here.”

  Max stopped mid-stride. Noah had released the man from his bonds, but he held on to the structure as if his life depended on it.

  “His cock is still hard,” he observed.

  “Hard as steel.” Killian sighed. “Lust has him under his power. With the Inferum gone, his libido should have decreased and we’d just have to get him out of here, but this—”

  “He’s a goner,” Noah cut in. “I bet you the moment he wakes up, there’s going to be another Inferum waiting for him.”

  “Probably, but hope is the last thing we must lose,” Killian said. The nerve on his jaw visibly ticked. “Ethan, get to it.”

  Without preamble, Ethan went around the victim, lifted his ax, and sliced off his penis.

  “Noooooo,” the human wailed, finally releasing the structure and turning to face them. He clawed at his nether regions, seeking out the missing member. Abruptly, his head snapped up. The anguish on his features transformed. An animalistic growl tore from his throat, and his mouth stretched into a snarl. He lunged.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Noah said. Metal scraped against metal, and the glint of a blade caught under the candlelight. Using his foot, Noah tripped the man, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pushed him backward. “Time to wake up, sweetheart,” he said, driving his anelace dagger into his chest. “Requiescat in pace.”

  The man’s eyes popped open for a fraction of a second before he crumpled to the floor and promptly disappeared.

  Max heaved a heavy sigh. They worked on the grounds that Lust’s targets would never remember anything, but in cases like these, he couldn’t help wondering if some inkling of the dream remained with them. One thing was certain, a man so entrenched in Lust’s grasp would probably not be free of the Sin for long.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Killian said. “We still have work to do.”

  They returned to the hall, where it didn’t take long before another mystery chamber appe
ared. Room after room, they killed Lust’s minions and freed humans as if it all were some sadistic zombie video game. Finally, the doors seemed to give them a respite.

  Max swept his brow with the back of his hand. Another salty drop trickled down his temple. “How much longer, Killian?”

  “Forty-five minutes before the alarm goes off,” his friend said.

  Max nodded.

  “We’ve got another one,” Ethan announced.

  They moved into position, repeating the same breach sequence. Killian threw down the door and they stepped inside. Max’s heart stopped.

  Ophelia.

  Chapter Three

  His hands turned clammy, his sword slipping through his fingers. It couldn’t be her. Max swallowed. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the vision on the bed. Ophelia, his Ophelia, lay between two men, both of them using her like a rag doll. Moan after moan erupted from her lips, but her head hung limply to the side and her eyes had rolled back.

  She hadn’t been like this the last time he’d seen her. She was a sweet girl, with a love for flowers and biology.

  Max twirled one of her dark locks around his finger, toying with the bouncy strand. Ophelia sighed and sprawled her hand over his chest.

  “Max,” she whispered.

  “Yes, babe?”

  “This isn’t working for me.”

  Max stiffened. An uncomfortable sensation squeezed his heart and stirred his bowls. It passed as quickly as it came. He glanced at Ophelia. Her dark eyes beseeched him, asking for a forgiveness which he didn’t deserve.

  “I understand,” he said. “You care for me and I care for you, but our love is—”

  “On the surface,” she supplied.

  “Yes.”

  Max jumped at the strong grip on his shoulder.

  “Wait outside.” Killian shoved him aside. “Ethan, Noah.”