Killing by Captivation: A Gods & Monsters Prequel (Gods & Monsters Trilogy Book 0) Read online

  Killing by Captivation

  Isadora Brown

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Did You Like Killing by Captivation?

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  Also by Isadora Brown

  Also by Isadora Brown

  Also by Isadora Brown

  Also by Isadora Brown

  Also by Isadora Brown

  Also by Isadora Brown

  One

  Life was something he wanted more than anything, and yet it was the one thing he did not yet have. Every day he saw it, humans taking the life they were gifted with for granted. If only they knew that life wasn’t a guarantee, and death certainly was. Being neither or both? That was a rarity, but he fit in with those numbers. He didn’t remember being born; he just knew that he was, and that was it. There was no reason to complicate matters by thinking that he had a mother or a father or siblings, because he didn’t. He was created as a means to an end, and that was that. However, his Creator had the power to grant him what he so desperately wanted – his Creator could grant him life if He saw fit. Of course, he would have to do something for the Creator in order to earn it.

  Paul was willing to do what needed to be done in order to achieve life. That was the name he had given himself, after the Apostle Paul, who was one of the first Christian missionaries. He possessed no last name, but then again, he didn’t need one. It was on very rare occasions that he actually interacted with humanity, and when he did, they rarely if ever asked for a last name. If they did, he could always make one up. He particularly favored Small, only because it was the actual meaning of his name. Not, of course, concerning size, but when it came to being humble.

  Currently, he was in the Underground. Humans referred to it as Hell, but their perceptions of Hell and what Hell actually was were on opposite sides of the spectrum. He had a room there, close to a black, sinister looking castle that belonged to his Creator. Lucifer, Satan, the Devil, the list of names He was known as back on earth was plenty, but never were they flattering. Of course, the Creator found much amusement in this, and had some of his servants refer to him by these names instead of Master, Highness, or Creator.

  The reason He preferred Creator to anything else was because God was a Creator as well, but while God created things of infinite beauty and good, Satan created things like Paul. Demons that weren’t alive nor were they dead, and did anything and everything Satan wanted done. Paul was a demon, but he wanted nothing more than to be human.

  Despite popular theory, demons could not be created evil. Like humans, both the environment a demon was created in as well as how a demon was raised factored in to what he believed and how he acted. Paul was soft spoken but ambitious. Life was something out of reach that he wanted to be a part of. He could feel like humans, and experienced emotions like humans, but he wasn’t human, and he wanted that to change.

  And it would, once he completed his mission for his Creator. It seemed so simple that Paul wasn’t sure if it was a joke or not. The Creator assured him that if he executed the plan successfully, he would be guaranteed the gift of life. Since there was no reason for the Creator to lie, Paul was set on doing it.

  Closing his pale blue eyes, Paul allowed his mind to drift back to what the Creator wanted him to do. It was so simple, so simple…

  “And for you, Paul. You want the gift of life?” Of course the Creator knew what Paul wanted. He knew all. “I can promise you such a gift if you do something for me. As you know, I am close to corrupting humanity as a whole, something I have been striving to do for a long while now. But I need your help in order to be successful at it. I need a human, a woman, in order to marry her. Make sure she is pure in spirit and body, my friend, so corruption is immediate. That is what I need you to do for me. You bring me a woman who fits this description, and I will give you life.”

  That was his whole purpose of being, the reason for his creation. He had to find one woman in a world where there was seven billion people. The task was impossible if it had been given to someone who was mortal. Paul couldn’t die unless his Creator so chose it, and so he could search for forever if needed to find this one woman. He had already been searching for five years now, but had yet to actually find anyone. Yet. He would. He had to. And he would know who she was too. Something inside of him would tell him that this was the woman.

  His pale blue eyes glanced in the full-length mirror pocketed in a corner of his bleak bedroom. Paul was in shape, evidenced by the fact that his stomach rippled with defined abdominal muscles while his broad shoulders were firm and intimidating. Currently, he was shirtless, with only black pants on his body, his feet bare. His eyes weren’t on himself, but rather what was attached to his back. Wings. Black wings, much like an angel’s, but tainted with no color. It showed his affiliation, forever embedded in him until life or death was granted. When he was on earth, nobody could see them. He was just another person to them.

  If only they knew.

  He ran his long fingers through his dusty red hair, leaving the short locks disheveled. He had never been a vain man; there was no need to be, but sometimes his eyes would flicker over his pale skin, wondering if his skin would bronze or if he would burn once he was alive. He looked about thirty, and had for the last millennia. The one thing he sometimes worried about being granted life was the aging process. Even so, he didn’t want to think about that now. He had to leave, to continue his job until a suitable match for his Creator was found.

  He had to go back to earth.

  This time, he chose Los Angeles. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans that fit his frame without being too tight or too loose, and worn sneakers on his feet. It was normal enough.

  The streets of Los Angeles’s tourism district were crowded and dirty, with people on every corner trying to hand out fliers to their “Star Tours” businesses while crowds of people took pictures with people who dressed up as famous celebrities or characters. In fact, Paul saw a Joker, Marilyn Monroe, Charlie Chaplin, and more. Other people followed the Walk of Fame down the street while others stopped in front of the Chinese Theatre, where movie premieres took place and hand and footprints of the stars were located. Surely he might find a woman given the fact that there were so many people in one place. He couldn’t just stand around, waiting for one. He didn’t want people to bump into him or thrust brochures in his face. How was he supposed to concentrate with all that distraction?

  Instead, he turned and looked at the street across from the theatre. A Coffee Bean was located next to a Mexican restaurant, and across the street horizontally was the famous (and supposedly haunted) Roosevelt hotel. Paul decided on the Coffee Bean, knowing coffee was as addictive as drugs were to humans, and hoped that he would find her there. Sooner or late
r.

  When Paul walked in, his mind worked overtime to figure out just what he should order since he had no idea just what the drinks were, exactly. There were too many options, too many drinks he didn’t comprehend let alone how to pronounce them. As he walked up to the counter, his pale blue eyes glanced around and noticed that the store was rather empty for a café. Maybe he should have chosen a Starbucks after all. Then again, it was the middle of the afternoon. Next time, he would come early in the morning.

  “Hi,” the girl at the counter said, a genuine smile on her face. Paul took a moment to look at her, surprised at how attractive she was. The name tag on her chest said Amanda. He smiled at this. She who must be loved. She raised her brow slowly, expectantly. “May I take your order?”

  “Just a small black coffee,” he said in his soft, English brogue. Even he knew it was quite attractive, especially the slight rasp to it.

  “Gotcha,” Amanda said, typing it into the register. “That’ll be one seventy-five. Can I get your name?”

  Paul handed her a five and dumped the change in the tip box. “Paul,” he said, and she quickly wrote it on the cup before handing it off to her coworker.

  “Great,” she said with another smile. “Your coffee will be ready an just a second.” Paul tilted his head slight nod, but before he left, he watched as Amanda’s eyes flickered over to his black wings, as though she could somehow see them. And then she said something he never thought he would hear. “Nice wings, though isn’t it a little early for Halloween?”

  That was it. She was the one.

  Two

  Mandy’s favorite time of the day while she worked was just after the morning rush. Things would calm down a bit, and her power-hungry manager Chad would take a two-hour lunch break. Customers, of course, came and went as they usually did; this particular Coffee Bean was located on one of the busiest streets in Los Angeles, and if customers didn’t come in, she would worry a little. However, the rush usually left her hair in such a disarray and her body craving ice water. Errant strands slipped out of the scrunchy her locks had been tossed into at four o’clock that morning before heading to work. Sarah, her friend and coworker, always got there to open the store, and Mandy always arrived a half an hour later. Mandy swore Chad did that on purpose so she wouldn’t get a full hour’s worth of time.

  The slow pace also let her mind wander, and Mandy was definitely a daydreamer. Sometimes, she would people watch, walking outside the store, getting tricked into going to famous people’s homes or taking a picture with a faux Darth Vader. She had seen people gather around Michael Jackson’s star, which was right across the street, after news broke that he had passed. Flowers, candles, trinkets, and sealed letters were on the square, as though they were waiting for his ghost to appear somehow, to let them know he was all right. The whole situation was sad, really. She watched as thousands upon thousands of tween girls and their just-as-excited mothers lined up nights in advanced for the mere chance of getting to touch Robert Pattinson or Taylor Lautner at the New Moon premiere. Just thinking about that caused Mandy to roll her eyes; she didn’t even want to think about the whole Twilight saga and how it was ruining the next generation.

  She wished her mother was still around. They would always joke about things like that, the ridiculousness that people bought into, the whole true love concept, blah, blah, blah. Mandy wasn’t cynical when it came to love, but she knew better than to believe the messages out of the book. She couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Didn’t even try Sarah; she was typically on Team Edward but thought Taylor Lautner was hotter than Robert Pattinson.

  Mandy just like Rob’s hair.

  But her mother… If her mother was here, no doubt they would have a slew of inside jokes about the story. She smiled sadly as she wiped down the counter, thinking of her mother. Mandy was an only child and never knew who her father was; she had only ever had her mother, and that was perfectly fine with Mandy. It was she and her mother against the world, and that’s how Mandy liked it. But her mother never wore sun screen and since she was fair to begin with, she developed cancer. Mandy wore sunscreen nearly every day since she had turned eighteen to at least try to ensure she wouldn’t develop cancer like her mother. Now, she was twenty-four, and her mother had passed away two years ago.

  Mandy tried not to think about her mother when she worked because she would get so distracted that if a customer came up to her register and ordered something, she wouldn’t even notice. It was interesting how easy it was for her to get lost in memories.

  Instead, she tried to think of other things, focus back on work. The only real reason she had this ridiculous job was because after her mother died, money got really tight really fast. Mandy had saved up a lot so she could travel after she got her associates degree in criminology at a local community college. It was like a little reward for herself. She went and she had fun. Until she got the call that changed her life forever.

  Her mother had gotten sick, but Mandy managed to make it back in time to say goodbye.

  It was early September now, and this was going on the second year since her mother had died. She had to take off a couple of years from college, especially since her goal was USC and she had actually gotten accepted in their law program. Mandy had no idea what she wanted to be, but she had always been fascinated by law. However, going to SC made it necessary to have money, and that was something Mandy didn’t have. Yet. She hoped she’d be able to start her first semester there in the spring. If only Chad would give her more hours.

  Her eyes darted once again back to the ticking clock right above the counter, hanging on the wall. Taunting her. Though she devoured any hours Chad threw her way, she didn’t exactly like being here if she could help it. The only thing she did like was the prospect of meeting new people, and working here at this particular store allowed her to meet different people from all over the world. And yes, they asked her the typical questions; “How long have you lived here?” “Have you met anyone famous?” “Where should I go to meet famous people?” She made sure she handled the enthusiasm with care and answered the questions to the best of her abilities. In turn, she asked where they were from, and loved to listen to them speak, especially if they had accents of sorts.

  Mandy loved accents. Which was probably why she took a particular interest in Paul. Well, besides the fact that he had big, black wings protruding from his back. Those were the first things she noticed about him; his wings. She idly wondered if he wore them for some kind of sociology experiment. It wouldn’t surprise her if he was, and the amusing thing about it all was the fact that he didn’t act as though they were there.

  But he was more than just big, black wings. He was tall, probably six foot two if Mandy had to guess, with short, red hair and the palest blue eyes Mandy had ever seen. His skin was pale but not sallow, and he seemed to be incredibly fit. When he spoke, his accent didn’t surprise her. If anything, she would have guessed Irish, but he was English. And he was very attractive.

  Mandy knew better than to get attached to people, especially in this town. One day they were here and the next they were gone, returning to wherever it was they came from. It was hard to find people who were actually from Los Angeles who were nice and good looking. So Paul, if he continued to come in on a regular basis up until he had to return home, would be delectable eye candy, and that was it.

  Mandy walked over to Sarah, who had just finished making a drink for herself, before subtly pointing out Paul, sitting at a table by himself, sipping his black coffee on and off. “What do you think of his wings?” she asked in a hushed tone, as though Paul might overhear her.

  Sarah glanced over at Paul for a long moment before taking a long sip of her iced chai latte. “What wings, Mandy?” she asked in the same tone after swallowing the cool liquid. “I mean, he’s cute definitely. But he doesn’t have any wings.”

  Mandy furrowed her brow before looking from her friend over to Paul. Obviously they were folded right now, but she could see them, cl
ear as day. Sarah had to be playing with her. Without fully thinking of what she was doing, she walked around the counter and over to Paul, who looked up at her expectantly when she reached him. His penetrating stare cut through to her very soul and she had to catch herself before asking, “Could I possibly borrow your wings to show my friend?”

  It was a random and intrusive question. She had no idea why she asked it in the first place.

  The edges of Paul’s lips quirked up, as though he hid a secret from her. “You can try,” he conceded.

  What an odd thing to say, Mandy thought to herself as she reached out and coiled her long fingers around the base of the wing closest to her. She pulled but found that the wing wouldn’t budge. Biting her bottom lip, she tried once again, but this time, pulling harder, only to be met with the same result. That couldn’t be possible. It would mean that the wings were attached to his body, and obviously that…

  “It looks as though you’re holding onto air, Mandy,” Sarah called before turning to the waiting customer.

  Mandy’s eyes widened and she released the black wing as though it had burned her without warning. She found Paul’s eyes and looked at them for something, but he was skilled at hiding things, and gave nothing away. “What are you?” she asked in a barely audible whisper.

  “I am many things,” Paul replied, his voice low, “but I probably am known best as your worst nightmare.”

  Three

  “…or something like that,” Paul continued, not quite sure if he had gotten the line correct or not. It didn’t exactly matter though, did it? His pale blue eyes glanced up and studied her own eyes, trying to decipher if she was afraid of him yet. However, surprisingly enough, she looked interested in the prospect of what she had discovered. Curious but cautious. Interesting.

  “Your wings,” she said, returning her eyes to his back where the beautiful black wings were folded. It was hard for her to understand that nobody could see them save for him and her. A part of her still believed this was just some big trick being played on her by Sarah, this man – Paul – and maybe everyone else. How could they not see these things? “They’re attached to your body.”