Dark Horse (A Demon's Guide to the Afterlife, #1)

by Kel Carpenter

Hell is empty, And all the devils are here. — William Shakespeare, The Tempest

But I was a demon by trade. It was sort of in the job description. A hundred years ago, I died. More accurately, I was murdered—by my ex-husband, to be exact. He was a piece of shit too, but that was a whole other can of worms I didn’t often like to open. The point was, I died and came to the Afterlife.

A twenty-something-year-old body with leather pants and a black corset. I wore knee-high black boots with a chunky heel. My red hair hung loose around my shoulders and not a weapon or speck of blood was in sight.

I was a true master of torture. A connoisseur, of sorts.

“You’re my mate,” he said matter-of-factly. A part of my body hissed yesssss, and it sent a bolt of electricity to the apex of my thighs. The rest of me said to get that bitch in check. I shook my head. “I, uh, I don’t do the mate thing. Polite pass.” His brows furrowed. “It wasn’t a request.” I looked at him in surprise. “Mmm,” I hummed. “I’m not exactly down for that kind of commitment.”

The screen popped out. Written in lipstick on the mirror: Sorry, not sorry. See ya later.

My mate had run from me, and the last thing you should ever do with an alpha predator is run. We give chase.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember all those anger management classes I’d taken in the Afterlife. Remember what Vlad the Impaler, my sponsor, had said. Count to ten.

Then stab. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have picked one of the most notorious demons as my mentor.

“Coming from the girl who lives on alcohol,” Hades scoffed. I narrowed my eyes. “Doctors say a glass a day helps the heart.” Hades cocked his head mockingly. “A glass of wine, not a gallon of hard liquor.” Semantics.

“I think you mean our mate. Looks like you’re not the only one who got a second chance.”

“We have a situation, Dorian. You’ve been around a long time, seen a lot. Have you ever heard of two alphas ending up with the same second-chance mate?” Did she just say . . .? Ezra and Roman?

“You do realize it’s only a few after nine in the morning, right?” “Liquid breakfast never hurt me before,” I said. Which was, in fact, true. Demon perk.

“He’s a lightweight. Who knew? Anyway, can you be a window instead of a wall and step two feet to the left?”

“Don’t act so surprised to see me,” the crow muttered in annoyance. “This isn’t my surprised face,” I replied. “I was hoping you’d be roadkill by now, pigeon.” “I’m a bird. I don’t walk across the street. I would have to be supremely stupid to get hit by a car—” He broke off sharply at the look on my face. Yup. The insult had finally hit.

“You have a talking crow?” Dorian asked. “Lost a bet with a witch. Got stuck with the pigeon,”

“You’re going to end the world,” Pulpface whispered cruelly. I froze. Shock filled me, though I quickly hid it.

They spoke in unison. “Welcome back, Sunny.”

“I’m only going to tell you this once, so listen closely.” I closed what little gap was still between us until we were only inches apart. “My name is Fury. You can call me that or any number of things, honestly, I don’t particularly care. But if you ever call me Sunny, it’ll be the last word you say.”

“Do you think they were telling the truth?” the wolf said. I froze mid-stride. “You think she’s a devil sent from Hell?” I said mockingly. “Or that she’s come to end the world?”

When Dorian told me I drank too much, I felt called out and seen for the first time. When Ezra spoke to me until I fell asleep, I felt less alone. When Roman spoke of protecting me, I felt guilt about what I was doing to him when all he cared about was my safety. When had anyone besides Duke ever cared about my safety?

Raise your hand to me, and it was over.

I haven’t been in pain for over a century, you hemorrhoid. I forgot what it feels like, but if you would. Just. Kill. Me, I could be back in a flash. No problem.

I wasn’t The Fury simply because I knew how to break and fix people the right way. I was The fucking Fury because I was the last person you wanted to piss off if you wanted to live, dead or not. And if I was going down, I was taking these sons of bitches with me.

I was one of the most powerful demons the Afterlife had seen because of one little fact. No one knew how or why, but I made shit go boom.

“Are you going to end the world?” She blew out a tight breath. “No.” She shook her head. “You are. I was sent here to stop you.”