Natalie Yacobson - Demon mentor. Crypt of the Seven Angels

«All scoundrels have always aspired to religion. It is so convenient to do evil under the guise of something ephemeral that hovers in the sky.»

«Yeah,» Blaise thought for a moment. «Etienne is in command of the mafia. But for society he is a prestigious gentleman,» she named the third. «Gerald leads the police, so any crime committed by his friends is so easy to hush up.»

«Your company of seven is comfortable.»

Blaise nodded.

«Angelo is a famous actor. Star and idol of the public. Recently he surrounded himself with such bodyguards that it would be difficult to reach him. George and Thomas are the stars of the ring. Whatever I give to break all their bones. But is it really possible to do this?»

«Anything is possible, baby,» Damian postponed his class for a moment.

«Even with your bare hands?»

«You can crush a wall with your hands, you’re just afraid.»

«I’m not afraid, it’s just that everything you say seems a little fabulous to me,» she raised her eyebrows, already knowing his answer in advance. Anything is possible if you believe in it.

«I want revenge, but look how high these people jumped. The cream of society. Important persons. Cones. And I am nobody. If I say my name now, they’ll think I’m crazy. It is easier for them to believe that I am dead.»

«Don’t call it that. Everything can be solved differently.»

«How?» She raised her tone reluctantly.

Damian shrugged lightly.

«First, it is worth observing them from afar. Rather from the shadows. You see them, they don’t. You tease them, they think you are a ghost and they start to be afraid.»

«Boldly, but how to implement it.»

«It’s simple,» he touched her hand, folded into a fist. «Such graceful fingers, but even boxers from the ring would not be as strong as this hand, if you wake up with an obsessed power. Do you know what obsession is?»

«This is when an evil spirit infiltrates a person. Demon. And the person becomes not humanly strong.»

«That’s it. And I am your demon.»

Blaise glanced at him. What is he hinting at? Do you have to sleep with a demon in order for it to take over your body? Or can everything be solved in a much simpler way?

The gloomy abandoned house that surrounded them seemed to be keeping some secret. But the only real secret she saw in front of her was Damian himself. The sight of him was slightly hypnotizing. As if he was not human at all.

«You let the demon in of your own accord. Your anger does everything for you,» Damian whispered to her. «The awakened anger is an obsession.»

Blaise felt an unexpected surge of energy.

«Do you want to continue your studies now, already without weapons, with your bare hands?»

Did he play with her?

«Why don’t you leave me alone?»

«Because I have no one but you. You’re the only thing I’m hooked on in this world. Your anger is what makes me exist.»

«It would be better if my anger gave birth to a monster that will take revenge on everyone.»

«It’s still ahead,» he grinned, somehow too mysterious and cruel. «Who else is among your enemies.»

Blaise considered. The evening before the fire, there were seven of them, but she knew who else was inciting them.

«Sister Angelo is also an actress,» she drew her name alongside, almost squeezed out. «Evangeline. She was ready to die to kill me. Although I do not understand the reason for such hatred, but now I also hate in return.»

«Great, more…»

«The son of Etienne Ivan, he always wanted to be the only one and at the head of everything. Since my brother did not survive, there is nothing to keep him alive for.»

«Correctly. Your pretty head proves that it has a claim to intelligence and ingenuity.

She pulled away from his hand, which touched her hair.

«Also Gwen, Hugh’s wife, she wished death for all of us. She and her children.»

Poisonous smiles, dyed hair, oily eyes. Everything came to mind so vividly. What a strong desire to kill always came from this woman. You always know who will strike, but you don’t know when. Blaise had been taken by surprise, now she wanted to take them by surprise.

«Do you know these people?»

He shrugged casually.

«I know a lot of people, but they all don’t know me.»

«It’s probably convenient. Know everyone and remain a ghost to them for everyone.»

«Soon you yourself will find out how it happens.»

«I do not understand you.»

«If you believe what you yourself say, then for all of them you are now a ghost.»

In this he was right.

Luciana Jaudet woke up late. The bright sunlight penetrating the window through the parted curtains completely erased the memories of a recent nightmare full of horror, statues and blood.

The girl glanced at the park paths below, the manicured flower beds and the neatly trimmed boxwood bushes. Her father’s park has always been perfect. She never thought about the cost of keeping it in that order. Like any daughter of very rich parents, she did not think about money at all, but today for some reason she did. The father is to blame. He started talking about receiving some kind of inheritance. He had never spoken to her about business before. Is it time to get serious.

Luciana glanced in the mirror. Magnificence! Here is one word that came to mind at the sight of such perfection. The beautiful reflection did not differ slightly from its copies on the covers of glossy magazines and posters advertising expensive perfume. She’s the perfect model. But here in her father’s mansion she should feel more like a princess. the house compares favorably with both expensive hotels and luxury hotel apartments. This was where she should have stayed. Her pretty blond head and arrogant face were as exquisite a decoration for the home as the priceless originals of ancient paintings in heavy frames.

Speaking of priceless things. Today they brought her an exquisite jewelry box with inherited jewelry.

«Until recently, the most beautiful girl in the world wore them,» her father explained to her. «Treat them like some kind of relic.»

She didn’t understand why he said that. And who was this girl? Jewelry inheritance. But from whom? Luciana did not know those relatives who, according to her father, died in the accident. But she dreamed of the disaster itself today. The girl closed her eyes, bordered by beautifully curved eyelashes. She dreamed of a fiery explosion in some temple with statues, chaos, blood and… the statues came to life. It was creepy.

She felt sick from the chaos and blood. That is why she tried not to watch the news or read the newspapers. Any bloody details almost drove her crazy. Glossy magazines were all she looked at. And that was salvation. It is better to think about the beautiful, and not remember how much pain there is in the world.

She herself, too, was as beautiful as an exquisite porcelain doll, with which the curls were stabbed and dressed in a foam lace peignoir. It was time to call the servants for morning tea and croissants, but Luciana hesitated.

On her dressing table, among the bottles of lotions and perfumes, lay a box, which seemed to her to be a stranger. It would be better to put it in the safe. Jewelry was not uncommon for Luciana. She owned many expensive things, but these jewelry seemed so priceless that it was scary to even touch them.

As a matter of fact, she got the smallest share of the jewelry of that most beautiful girl who is no longer alive. Most of the jewelry was taken by Aunt Evangeline. She even squeezed out theatrical tears, lamenting how she loved her deceased relative. The tears looked so fake, however, so did the assurances that the jewelry was only for her as a reminder.