Page 1 of Broken By The Devil

PROLOGUE

11 years prior

Inever thought I would be wearing this dress again. The material is stifling, itchy, and so suffocating it feels as though someone has a grip on my lungs. Yet, here I am in my black funeral dress, my silver blonde hair braided away from my face, and my mother’s bracelet on my wrist, which I will never take off. Here I stand on the edge of yet another grave. I usually like graveyards, the silence they bring, the sanctuary to read and write in my journal. A time to think and reflect. This soon changed for me when my sister, Althea, passed away six months ago. I didn’t even have time to grieve my sister when my mother also died. I have only ever seen my father cry once before in my life, when Thea died. I don’t think he will ever fully recover, and I don’t think I will be enough for him to stay in this life. He is a shell of a human being, completely numb and unfeeling, it’s like staring right through a ghost.

I never dreamt I would be standing on the edge of another grave so soon in my life. So many gravestones surround the earth with dead flowers at their feet, the life wilting away from them. Now that I have two people that I love in graves, it doesn’t hold the same sanctuary as it once did. The grief is so suffocating I can almost smell the death surrounding the cemetery. The knowledge that not only is my sister in a hole in the earth but my mother is also gone, never to come back to me, is hard to fathom. My mother and sister were the only people who loved me. My mother was there for me and believed in me when nobody else did. She would sit in my room for hours braiding my hair, which is identical to hers in every way, silver strands that almost sparkle in the light, covering most of our backs in length. She would often sing to me the songs she created, such beautiful melodies that would often send me into the deepest of sleeps. Now she is laying lifeless in that coffin being lowered into the earth, soon to be forgotten by all these people that have gathered today. Not being able to hear those melodies again, it shatters my heart completely. I cannot handle another pity look in my direction, the ones that say, ‘oh goodness her sister killed herself and now her mother has passed, poor girl.’

The heels of my shoes have started to sink into the grass. I have been standing here for hours, my clothes are soaking wet, my hair is dripping and raindrops are flowing down my face disguising the silent tears. Being alone with my thoughts, I’m grateful for the silence. My father hasn’t been able to look at me lately; I should be preparing myself for the life of silence since that is all I have known for the last year of my life.

I feel a lingering presence, his, I would know his scent anywhere, it makes the bile rise from my throat and threatens to choke me. It would be a nice reprieve from living the horrors in my life of late.

“I’m seriously bored, I hate funerals, come inside, it’s time for you to entertain me, my submissive little pet.” He purrs like he is trying to be seductive. The anger rises in me; I can feel the constriction in my chest and my hands close into fists at my side.

“I am not your submissive pet,” I spit out between my clenched teeth.

“Oh but you are though, now that your sister chose the easy way out, you’re my only alternative, my pet. Come inside now.” The demand in every word cuts like a serrated knife. “Or do I need to remind you of the consequences of disobeying me?” I glare up at him not dignifying a response. I look at my mother’s grave in that moment and can’t help but feel completely and utterly abandoned by everyone I love.

I turn on my heels and start walking into the manor house that my father owns, not my home, not anymore. I am beginning to like my black dress, considering I dwell in the darkness now, I will never see colour again, will never know joy again, will never be loved by anyone again. I have come to know the darkness, I will welcome it, I will become it.

KADE

“Cyrus, I swear I’m going to punch that fucking smirk off your face!” I am not in the mood to be dealing with this right now. My office is a heap of a mess, there’s paperwork everywhere, and I have four rookie officers starting today, as well as the chief’s daughter transferring in from another unit.

Emilia Hale, the chief’s daughter, transferring into my unit. What makes her think she can just transfer into one of the most specialist teams in the force? There is no doubt in my mind that it is all Daddy’s doing. If she thinks she is going to get an easy ride here because her father is the chief, she is seriously delusional.

“What?! I just think it’s funny that you’re now the sergeant to the chief’s daughter. You need to be on your best behavior now, you’re going to be monitored closely, and we all know how much you love being told what to do.” Cyrus stands against the wall with his arms behind his back and feet wide apart, always ready to strike if needed. He is about an inch shorter than me, big broad shoulders and hands that could break anyone’s face. His brown hair flops over his forehead, never having been properly styled. People tend to avoid Cyrus completely, purely for the fact that he is built like a brick building and his scar that runs from the top of his forehead down his right eye and ends at his chin, courtesy of a paedophile ring bust 5 years ago. I made sure the other guy left the warehouse in a body bag. He often puts people off with his stare alone. His green eyes almost look into anyone’s soul uninvited and are constantly narrowed regardless of who he is talking to.

“Nothing is going to change, she is not getting special treatment just because her daddy is the chief, if anything I’ll work her harder.” I grit out.

‘I’ll look forward to being worked harder than the rest of you then, or are you bitter because you want me to call you daddy instead?” a female voice drawls from the doorway of my office.

Cyrus spits out his mouthful of coffee all over my desk and on the paperwork I had laid out, my eyes narrow on the woman stood before me. Emilia Hale is not how I pictured her to be. Her pale silver hair is placed into two braids, and she’s wearing minimal makeup, which is surprising considering most of the female officers in the force come in looking like they’re ready for a club rave. Her uniform completely form fitting, showing her toned legs and arms. She looks lethal despite only being at least five-foot-three in height. There’s something about her. She doesn’t seem flustered by my presence, the way she holds herself, chin up and back straight. Pure strength.

The fact that she thinks she can talk to me like that is infuriating. Her attitude will soon change, I’ll make sure of it. I’ll unmask her. She can’t hide from me, it’s what I’m good at.

“I’m your Sergeant Kade Hunter, I’m not sure what you overheard but you will call me sergeant from here on out, do you understand?” She lifts her chin and straightens her back and shoulders like she’s trying to prove something. “Yes, Sergeant,” she purrs.

“Morrison! Get in here now!” Morrison has been on the job for four years, he does not stop talking about the world wars and dungeons and dragons. I’m sure Emilia will appreciate him as her training officer, that is, if she’s not into that stuff herself, she doesn’t strike me as a D&D fan. “This is Morrison, he’s going to be your TO for the foreseeable.” I sit back down in my chair and wave my hand in dismissal, but she just glares at me like she’s going to lunge and rip my throat out.

“With all due respect, Sergeant, I have been on the force for 6 years with specialist training in drugs squad and serious crime, I do not need a TO with my level of skillset,” she declares. Like I care.

Cyrus gives me a warning look from across the room. “And until I see your particular skill set, you will be riding with a TO until I say otherwise,” I order. The talk back is already annoying me. She’s living up to her reputation of being daddy’s girl.

Emilia approaches my desk, puts both hands on either end, and leans over so her face is in line with mine. “Oh, I’ll show you exactly what I’m capable of, Sergeant.” She stares me down for a few seconds, almost like she’s trying to scan me for weaknesses. She won’t find any. She turns on her heels and saunters towards the door but pauses in the entryway, looks over her shoulder at me and winks. The woman actually winks at me and orders, “Come on Morrison, let’s go.”

I turn to Cyrus. “Did she just fucking wink at me?” He looks like he’s holding in a laugh so hard his head is going to implode, he jumps out of his chair and heads towards the door. “I think you might have finally met your match.” Cyrus looks over his shoulder and winks at me. The bastard.

I’ve been in meeting after meeting today with the chief and sergeants in every division. There are times where I regret my decision in going for a promotion. I despise moaning about budgets, staffing levels and who takes on what job. It’s basically a lot of dick measuring, which is exactly what it is. Considering there are no female sergeants or senior officers.

My ass grazes the seat of my chair for the first time today when the door flies open, Morrison is now taking up much unnecessary space in my office. “There better be a very good reason as to why you’ve barged into my office?” I manage to press out, I pinch the bridge of my nose, migraine incoming, trying to get some relief from the building pressure.

“Sorry, Sarge, I just need to talk to you about Emilia.” My patience is already thinning, I bare my teeth at him and he staggers back a few steps. “It’s just that she’s not a rookie Sir, she’s highly trained, she took down a six-foot-three cocaine addled brute today like he was nothing. She booked him in, put him in the cell single handedly and then laughed when he punched her in the face! I don’t know where she was trained Sir, but I can’t handle her, she’s fine on her own in my opinion, Sir.”

The frown lines on my forehead are going to become a permanent feature on my face. “Thank you Morrison, I’ll take over from here, you’re dismissed.” He looks defeated: I almost feel bad, but that flicker of emotion soon dies out when I spot her in the report room through the window of my office. “Hale! My office.” I have never seen Morrison move so fast. He darts out of my office and casts a worried glance at Emilia before she enters and sits down in front of my desk.

Nobody says anything for several minutes, I want to see how she reacts, she doesn’t look nervous or agitated. That’s the normal response I get from my officers, but not from her. There’s something about her that I’m missing. I glare at her, hoping for some hint of emotion, but there’s none there, she’s just empty. She’s wearing a mask. “Why did you transfer to this unit? Have you been put here to report back to your father?” There is no slip in her mask.

“No, I am not a mole and I’m certainly not a rat. My father has nothing to do with my transfer. Sergeant Thomas Andrews put the request through.” The confusion must have shown on my face because she continued, “Before you ask, I don’t know why he sent me here. You’ll have to ask him yourself.” Almost in dismissal of my questions.