Suddenly Summoned Read online

  Suddenly Summoned

  Paranormal Prison

  Marie Bradford

  Copyright © 2020 Marie Bradford

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ASIN: B0859KH6FG

  Cover design by: Taurus Colosseum

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Book Description

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Thank you

  About The Author

  Other Books By Marie Bradford

  Where to Find Me

  Book Description

  I'm Beauty, the Coven Massacre Slayer. Serving life at Prison Isle with my demon beast.

  The real crime wasn’t killing all those evil men. It was being a summoner. My name is Callista Faust. A direct descendent of the evilest family in history. Everyone knows them, but no one knows their dirty secrets.

  Everyone except the warden and he’s got a psychotic grudge against me. It seems my family leaves a lasting impression on even the most powerful of beings.

  My bonded demon hates me, but has no choice but to save me.

  He can give me what I need.

  He can give me what I want.

  And it'll only cost my soul.

  Author Note: This is the first book in the Faustian Curse series. There are themes of violence and sex. This is a M/F slow/medium burn intended for mature audeiences.

  Prologue

  “Sarah,” my mom sighed with a frown on her face. I stepped off the final stair and made it into the living room. She looked over at my dad. He was sitting in his favorite chair, set close to the fire and frowning down at the walking stick he was whittling. I’d just finished getting my six-year-old, Callista, asleep in her room upstairs.

  The fire cracked in the hearth, chasing away the fall chill. Our living room felt cozy and familiar. Warmth and age surrounded us in our ancestral home. Our family had lived here for hundreds of years and it showed in the details. I’d never move out, despite being a thirty-three-year-old woman with a daughter. That just wasn’t how things were done here.

  I looked at my mom’s expression and just knew what she wanted to talk about. I frowned.

  “I know what this is about and I don’t want to talk about it.” I held up my hand and started to move towards the kitchen.

  “She’s demon cursed,” my mom whispered. Her eyes were sharp and cutting. Her mouth was a thin line. I stopped and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “Can we not right now?” I sighed in exasperation. I knew this conversation was coming. Probably because she’d already tried to have it with me a couple times before, but I ran from the room like it was on fire.

  “You need to listen to us,” my father said, setting his walking stick in his lap and giving me his full attention. I sighed again and flopped on our velvet couch. My body sunk into the cushion and I pet the orange crocheted blanket draped on the chair arm. Mom remained standing, firmly rooted in her spot. She had something on her mind and didn’t plan to back down tonight.

  “Go ahead,” I said in developing anger. I didn’t like them calling my daughter cursed because I was afraid they were right. My mom let out a breath and relaxed a little.

  “None of us like this. That girl is my little dumpling but she’s showing the signs. Her unnatural interest in demons,” my mom cut off with a sigh and moved over to the couch to sit next to me. I didn’t bother angling myself towards her. Instead, I watched the flames dance.

  Our family had built this house back in the seventeen hundreds and we had lived peacefully with our coven in our secluded corner of Appalachia since then. We were a quiet, friendly family who weren’t shy about helping out our neighbors. Sometimes that was really who we were too. Sometimes it felt like a mask we hid behind. Always the yes man, always willing to volunteer, always smiling and friendly. All tactful decisions in order to fit in and keep our family’s secrets hidden. The real reason our family settled in this insular coven away from the rest of the world was to bury our past.

  “Dad?” I asked, wanting him to weigh in. Hoping he’d say mom was jumping the gun.

  “Honey,” he said, looking at me with pitying eyes. I felt my eyes begin to water and let a harsh breath out through my teeth.

  “Why?” I asked sharply. “Why now? There hasn’t been a demon cursed in our family since the old world.”

  “I don’t know,” my mom said, licking her lips. She ran her hands over her long dress, smoothing out the fabric. I ran my hands over my face. The last demon cursed in our family was Henrietta Faust, Germany 1523. I know because I had felt the need to recently read over our family’s journals again. Such a very long time ago, four hundred and eighty-three years to be exact, that I had thought all of it was in our past forever now. Then Callista was born.

  “Okay, let’s say she is. What does that even mean?”

  “It means our family will never escape this curse. Never be free from our past.” My mom shook her head and I almost rolled mine from her dramatics. She always took our past much more seriously than I ever had. I guess I had to start taking it more seriously now too though.

  “I’m not asking about the Faust family. I’m asking about Callista.”

  “Don’t say that name,” my mom hissed. She was paranoid that even mumbling our true last name in the privacy of our home would reveal our secret to others. “You need to stop teaching her the demonic language right away.”

  “What?” I asked in shock. “It’s tradition. We must! The whole point of passing on the knowledge of Demonic is to understand the past. It’s our way. History will only keep repeating itself without studying our past.” What mother was suggesting went opposite to the beliefs we had held. If Callista was demon cursed then it was even more important she understood the language and read about the Faustian past.

  “I know, Sarah, but that was before. Now that we know she’s demon cursed--”

  “Stop,” I commanded, shooting her a warning look. “Stop calling my daughter cursed.” I thought about the soft, ruddy cheeks of my daughter upstairs. The way her straw-colored hair fanned out over her pillow and how peaceful she looked breathing slowly as she slept.

  “You need to face this. It is a curse and ignoring it will just make everything worse.”

  “Okay, so if she is demon cursed then it’s inevitable she will revive summoning. The first one to do so in hundreds of years. So what good does denying her Demonic do? What good will i
t be to deny her the ability to read our ancestral journals? To understand?”

  “Sarah,” Dad said lightly. A warning to speak nicer to my mother. I settled my back against the couch again.

  “I don’t know if it will do any good but we must try,” my mom said sharply.

  “I’m not agreeing to this.”

  “You must!”

  “No. She needs to know the language. She needs to be able to read the journals. If my baby--” my voice caught. “If Callista is going to be a summoner then it’s more important.” This was a hard reality to face. My beautiful little girl with earnest eyes who loved to read: demon cursed. She did not have an easy life ahead of her. This calling would control her and manipulate her life. It was relentless and would not let up until she had fulfilled her fate. Until she opened a portal between Earth and Hell and dragged a new demon into our world. And that would only be the beginning.

  “You can’t!” My mom practically yelled. The firewood broke and the flame hissed and cracked. Embers flickered and spew up into the chimney. One particularly bright ember landed on my dad’s pants leg. He quickly swatted at it. We sat gripped in mild shock, holding our breaths. My eyes jerked to my mom.

  “I can. I will.” My mom held her tongue as she looked at the fire. I could see wetness collecting as if she was trying not to cry, I shook my head and sighed. “Let’s keep the truth from her. The journals and books. Who we really are. Everything. Try to get her interest in demons to go away. I’m still going to teach her Demonic though. I won’t tell her what it is.” My mom shook her head and a tear fell down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

  “Okay,” she said in defeat. “Okay, but I don’t agree. She can’t summon if she can’t read how to.”

  “Plenty of our ancestors summoned demons without a guideline. If it’s bound to happen, it will happen no matter what.”

  “Maybe,” Mom said.

  “It’s going to be okay, Sarah. Your baby will be just fine,” Dad offered. I gave him a sad smile. He was trying to cheer me up but he didn’t really understand. He wasn’t a Faust. He knew the facts but it wasn’t the same as growing up with the weight of it on your back. Living in fear that you might be demon cursed and start the whole cycle over again.

  I felt mom pat my hand. I looked over and saw her giving me the same sad smile I’d given to Dad. She knew he didn’t really get it either but we didn’t try and explain it to him. It just wasn’t something that could be explained. I gripped mom’s hand in solidarity. You had to live it. I guess he very well might live a part of it now if Callista was demon cursed. Although who knows, maybe he wouldn’t live it at all. Tragedy was a common theme for the demon cursed. Losing their family wasn’t unheard of. Actually, it was the norm.

  Tears slid down my face and I grimaced.

  “Fuck,” I said.

  “Sarah Emma Adams,” dad hissed.

  “It’s going to be okay,” mom said, ignoring my curse and patting my hand. Thick sobs began to form in my chest.

  Chapter One

  He was terrifying. A scream was held in my throat, ready to break from my mouth at a moment’s notice. I swallowed as I watched his wings twitch. Calm down, I told myself. He’s in the circle. I scanned the powdered ash edge of the summoning circle. Thick gray dust piled neatly in connecting lines on the herringbone wood floor. Not a speck out of place.

  I let out a shaky breath and watched the demon I’d called. He wasn’t looking at me. Instead, his eyes roamed the force field he was trapped in with growing anger; rage reflected in his eyes. Eyes that were completely black, matching the absence of his soul. My hands were shaking, so I shoved them in the pockets of my thick sweater.

  The face of the demon was human and manly. There wasn’t a weak feature about him. From the sneer on his sultry lips to the thick, black eyebrows furrowed above his straight, greek nose. He had tan white skin, short black as night hair that sat silky atop his head, and a prominent chin framed by a cutting jaw. All these vaguely familiar, symmetrical, and attractive features could make him look like a god. Gorgeous, my baser self whispered.

  Yet, I couldn’t be distracted from the eyes, the wings, and the horns. These features looked sinister and violent. Threats that turned his beauty into something harsh, something frightening.

  Summoning demons wasn’t allowed. ‘Strictly forbidden’ was the term used to describe it actually. At least that’s what I’d heard parroted to me by everyone my whole life. From a young age, all mages are told frightening tales of the soulless demons who’d snatch you up and take you back to their lairs in the dark abyss of Hell.

  Mom told me the tales every night like bedtime stories, as if she wanted me to have nightmares. They always started and ended the same. A summoner brought a soulless demon to our world and sealed a deal. They always thought themselves so smart and clever, figuring out exactly how to word the deal to ensure things went their way. Mom had said that some were even successful. The summoner crafted a deal that got them exactly what they wanted, but in the end, the price was always too high, for the only currency of any real value to a demon was a mortal’s eternal soul.

  I’d always been too interested in demons. Everything about them intrigued me. Which is why Mom made me promise her that I’d never do this. It wasn’t enough that it was forbidden. She wanted me to make a binding promise to her, hoping that my love for her would keep me from making the biggest mistake a mage can make.

  I’d nodded my head with wide eyes and promised her. But that was then, and she was dead now, leaving no one to hold me to the promise. Now there was just a trail of blood leading to her murderer. It had taken me months, but I’d found the man guilty of taking my only family from me. None other than our coven leader, Master North.

  Which meant I needed help seeking my vengeance for her. I focused intently inside the summoner circle. I was too scared to look away from the demon before me. He towered over me at six and a half feet tall. Thick ropy bands of muscle draped what I could see of his body, peeking out tantalizingly from beneath a finely worked leather vest and pants. Both were crafted from what appeared to be a lightly patterned black snakeskin. He looked lithe, graceful despite his bulging strength. A lean muscled assassin. His black eyes were furrowed with rage as he paced the edges of his cage, at times testing the boundary. Two horns twisted up above his head, thick and crooked.

  I knew nothing about who this demon was but I was sure he’d be strong enough for the job. Even the weakest demon had ten times the strength of a man.

  I took a shaky breath and steeled myself. There was no going back. I was too determined to have my vengeance. My feet scuffed the floor as I stepped from the shadows where I’d been concealed.

  I was shaking all over now, not just my hands. The demon stilled, his black eyes aiming at me with hatred. His nostrils flared and he opened his mouth and spat on the forcefield that held him. Drops of demonic saliva momentarily sizzled before evaporating in a wisp of vapor. I wanted to run, to hide under my covers until I forgot all about calling a demon to my basement. My mind panicked with the force of the demon’s hate boring down on me. What had I done? I took another deep breath. The shakiest one so far. I couldn’t back down. I had to do this. For mom and for me.

  “D- demon,” my voice shook and I swallowed. It sneered at me in disgust. “Tell me your name,” I attempted to demand. I wasn’t very talented at demanding. I was the quiet bookworm in the corner. A library mouse more friendly with dusty fantasies than the others in my coven. My eyes bulged as the demon smiled. It was cruel and vicious. Each tooth in its mouth sharpened to fine points, the mouth of an apex predator. They gleamed with violence and I took a step back.

  “Abrax,” he hissed delighted, his smile widening as he said the word. He was pleased to tell me his name because it was a promise of violence. Demon names were spoken of in frightened whispers by anyone brave enough to talk of them. Even in their own realm, names weren’t murmured, otherwise you bring the beast to your door and suff
er the consequences.

  “Your full name,” I said, hoping to sound commanding. My voice wavered though and this pleased the demon further. He already thought he’d won, that this small human woman in front of him, shivering and scared, stood no chance against him.

  And he was right. He could tear me limb from limb and feast on my blood without any effort at all. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. I’d studied demons my whole life. I’d be successful in making my deal because I knew there was no cheating a demon.

  “Your full name,” I repeated. This time my voice didn’t waver, even if it was small, a reflection of my stature. The demon hissed and began pacing again. He couldn’t deny me my answer though. There were rules that bound both sides of this equation, him as well as me. Once summoned, they were required to tell the summoner their full name.

  “Abrax Azal,” he spat out from between sharpened teeth. His bare feet thumped the floorboards beneath him. They creaked under the force of each step he took. I pulled my shaking hand from my pocket, now holding a blade, an athame of black obsidian. The hilt was silver inlaid with an intricate and almost runelike pattern of pearly, iridescent moonstone. It was a summoner’s knife and a family heirloom. After mom died there had been lots of secrets to discover.

  Abrax’s black eyes flicked to the knife swiftly, his attention absolutely imprisoned. I shook as I stepped forward. My legs felt weak, barely capable of holding me. A scream was caught in my throat again. This close, I felt even the slightest shift on his part would bring forth an insuppressible wail.

  I watched my toes inch towards the ash circle. He couldn’t cross the barrier but it didn’t stop the all-consuming fear curdling in my gut. He watched me with narrowed eyes that kept flicking back and forth from my face, then back to the knife.