Her Wicked Angel

by Felicity Heaton

  “I don’t think Veiron evil and he’s gone big and black and completely weird a few times since I’ve known him.” She paused and frowned at Asmodeus. “Do you turn like him?”

  “No… I am… different.”

  “Different how? I want to know.” She held his gaze when he looked at her, showing him that she was telling the truth and wasn’t saying these things just to make him feel better. She really did want to see him in his true form.

  “Different… like this…” Asmodeus closed his eyes and she tensed when black shadows loomed around his feet and fluttered there, striking at the sand like vipers. They avoided her and she knew it was because of Asmodeus’s feelings for her. He didn’t want to harm her.

  Asmodeus drew in a deep breath, his bare chest expanding with it, and the shadows swirled up his legs and danced around his clawed fingers. They settled onto his skin, turning it black, and flowed up his arms.

  His black trousers disappeared, replaced by his greaves and boots, and his loincloth and the strips of armour around his hips. One of his greaves had a long slash in it that hadn’t been there before. Had he been fighting again?

  The gold on his armour melted into pure obsidian and then blazed violet, matching Nevar’s.

  The black feathers of his wings gained a purple shimmer in the sunlight, reflecting brightly.

  His black hair fluttered against the breeze and shifted backwards, and small obsidian horns curled from behind his ears.

  He opened his eyes, fixing his swirling purple gaze on her. He snarled, flashing his fangs, and all of his teeth sharpened. The darkness reached his chest and exploded outwards, turning his skin into the colour of the night.

  Nevar growled and attacked the cage.

  Asmodeus roared at him and the angel shrank back into the corner, huddling there. A male put firmly in his place by his master.

  “I knew it.” The deep male voice came from behind Asmodeus and Liora looked across at Apollyon as he stared at Asmodeus, a grim edge to his blue eyes. “You contracted with him.”

  Asmodeus nodded, drew in another deep breath, and the transformation reversed, leaving his skin as golden as his eyes. Liora mourned the loss of his little horns. They were sort of sexy and she had wanted to tiptoe and stroke them.

  If she told Asmodeus that, he would probably choke on something.

  His gaze flickered to her, the wary edge back in it, and then away to Apollyon.

  “We were discussing Nevar’s rehabilitation.” Asmodeus furled his black wings against his back and it was weird hearing him talking to Apollyon in a civil tone, and doubly weird when Apollyon responded in kind.

  “I think it will be long and troublesome. Have you come up with any possible solutions?”

  Asmodeus nodded again. “Blood. It is possible that given blood of a non-demonic source over a period of months that Nevar will be able to overcome his addiction.”

  “But that would leave him addicted to blood, right?” Liora hadn’t thought about it earlier when Asmodeus had suggested it but if they gave Nevar blood for months on end, they were only shifting his addiction from Euphoria to something else, and probably making him more dangerous to mortals.

  He was hungry for a fix of demon toxin and blood right now.

  Making him hungry for mortal blood sounded very bad to her.

  “We will make sure that he is weaned off blood too.” Apollyon sounded confident enough and she felt better knowing that it wasn’t just Asmodeus who would be handling Nevar’s trip to rehab.

  Liora touched the marks on her throat and then looked down at her wrist. “So he needs regular doses, right?”

  Asmodeus’s fingers curled around her wrist. “Not of your blood, little mortal. Witch blood will only get him addicted to the power that flows within your veins.”

  She blushed at the flash of a memory. Asmodeus biting her. Tasting her. He knew first-hand the power in her blood and she wanted him to know it again.

  He frowned at her and lifted his free hand as if to touch her face. She cleared her throat and glanced away, but caught the wicked tilt of his lips. He was on to her. He knew she was thinking naughty things.

  She coughed again and tried to sound as if her mind was on the important business of rehabilitating Nevar and wasn’t replaying Asmodeus biting her on repeat.

  “But we need to start feeding him now, to help him through the withdrawal.”

  “If you insist we begin now, it will be my blood he will have. Technically, I am not demonic, and it is possible that my blood would be the best choice, given that I am his master.” Asmodeus released her and crouched beside the cage.

  Nevar hissed at him and pressed back into the corner, trying to get away.

  The second Asmodeus placed his arm through the bars, Nevar changed abruptly. He lunged forwards, grabbed Asmodeus’s wrist and pulled, slamming Asmodeus against the bars of the cage.

  Nevar viciously sank his fangs into Asmodeus’s arm, clutching it with both hands, and curled his claws around, pressing them into his flesh and ripping at his skin. Asmodeus grunted and gritted his teeth, wincing as Nevar drank, making wet greedy sucking noises and cutting at Asmodeus with his claws.

  Asmodeus paled.

  “Stop,” Liora snapped and Asmodeus ignored her. She slammed her hands against the bars of the cage near Nevar. “Stop!”

  Nevar blinked and looked around himself, an air of confusion in his green eyes. They widened and he released Asmodeus’s arm and shot backwards. Asmodeus stumbled to his feet and she ducked beneath his arm and caught hold of him, steadying him as he spread his wings and fought to remain standing.

  Nevar stared at her, blood saturating his face and his hands. He kept blinking, staring, breathing faster and faster, and she could sense the panic rising within him, bringing fear and anger in its wake.

  He snarled and launched himself at the bars, slashing at Asmodeus with his black claws. “What did you do to me this time?”

  Liora held on to Asmodeus, pressing one hand against his chest and one against his back, holding him upright but struggling beneath his weight.

  “Asmodeus did nothing bad to you,” she said and Apollyon came to her, taking hold of his twin for her. “You needed blood to help you fight your addiction and that was all he gave to you.”

  Asmodeus found his balance at last and some of the colour returned to his skin.

  Nevar spat onto the sand beneath his cage. “You taste disgusting.”

  “Why thank you,” Asmodeus snarled, lifted his arm to his face and licked the cuts, cleaning the blood away.

  Liora couldn’t miss the blatant hunger in Nevar’s green-to-purple eyes as he watched Asmodeus.

  He wasn’t satisfied even though he had called Asmodeus’s blood disgusting. He lusted after more.

  Nevar flicked her a look of revulsion and then huddled back into his corner, muttering in the demon tongue. Asmodeus frowned at him and she was tempted to ask what Nevar was saying, but he didn’t look as if he would tell her.

  He placed his arm around her shoulders and led her away from the cage, leaving Nevar mumbling to himself, guarded by the hellhounds.

  “What happened to your armour?” She pointed at the greave with a slash in it and then looked up into Asmodeus’s eyes.

  “Dragon,” he said and she smiled. “The Devil sent it to deal with me when I came to take you back from him. I did tell you that I could defeat it.”

  He had, and she was glad that she hadn’t been around while he had been battling the enormous beast. She didn’t want to see him fighting such a dangerous creature. Her magic was threatening to take control of her right now, when she was only imagining it happening. If she ever saw Asmodeus locked in such a battle, his life on the line, she would completely lose control and become a slave to her power, stopping at nothing to protect him. There was a chance she would destroy everything in her path.

  “Some people would like to see you,” he said and she nodded, pushing her dark thoughts away and taking a
deep breath to bring her magic back under her control.

  She wanted to see them too.

  He paused halfway to the group, released her and looked out to sea.

  Liora could feel him pulling away and distancing himself, and it left her cold inside.

  She caught hold of his left wrist and he tried to twist free but she held on to it, refusing to let him go. She stared down at the bloody welts on his arm and tried to search for the right words, the ones that would make everything better.

  Nevar had sliced into Asmodeus’s flesh with his claws and the bite wound was ragged, as if he had buried his fangs in Asmodeus several times while feeding.

  “Do they hurt?” She lifted her gaze to his.

  He looked uneasy. “No.”

  Liora smiled sadly. He was being guarded again. It upset her but she understood why he wasn’t willing to drop his guard around her right now. He still couldn’t decide whether she was going to leave him or not and she was doing a terrible job of showing him that she was sorry about what she had said and that she should never have said it in the first place, and that she wanted to be with him still.

  She kept hold of his hand. “They must sting at least.”

  Liora placed her other hand over the wounds and focused on her power, calling it forth. It swirled purple and red around her fingertips and she channelled it into his arm, healing the slashes and deep punctures. He shook beneath her hands and she could sense his uncertainty.

  When the wounds had healed, she lifted his arm and pressed gentle kisses to every red mark that remained, lavishing them with affection. His trembling ceased and uncertainty became something else.

  Liora drew back and gazed up into his dark amber eyes, the hunger in them calling her to action, demanding she give him what he wanted.

  She tiptoed to kiss him and he hesitated and then pulled away from her, breaking free of her grip.

  He looked beyond her to the camp, down into her eyes, opened his mouth and then turned and walked away.

  Liora blinked, numb and cold, shaking inside.

  She stared after him as he walked towards the sea, his hands in the pockets of the black linen trousers he now wore and his wings shrinking into his back.

  She wanted to go to him and tell him again that she was sorry, to apologise properly this time and not dance around it, but she held back, resisting the urge to follow him. It wasn’t just the things she had said that were making him draw away from her again. He was thinking about what he had done to Nevar too and struggling with his feelings, and he needed space. If she went to him now, she would be pushing him again and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to make him feel better, not make him feel crowded and cornered.

  He tipped his head back and looked up at the sky.

  Serenity rushed over to her, dragging her attention away from Asmodeus. She hugged her cousin and closed her eyes, drawing comfort from Serenity’s warm embrace. It lifted her heart.

  Her cousin led her to the group gathering around the fire and Liora glanced back at her angel.

  She would give him five minutes.

  Then she would introduce him to something new.

  Make up sex.

  The ground trembled beneath her feet.

  Fiery streaks appeared on the white sand close to Asmodeus and Nevar.

  CHAPTER 25

  Asmodeus called one of his curved blades to him the moment the first tremor shook the sand and was racing for Liora when a jagged fault line cut across his path, shooting thirty feet wide in less than a heartbeat. The water to his right hissed as the fiery line rocketed into the sea, sending salty steam up into the air.

  Something growled off to his left.

  His head whipped that way, causing the longer lengths of his black hair to caress his brow.

  Nevar was halfway to demonic and hurling himself against the bars of his cage, his gaze fixed with deadly intent on something ahead of him, towards the camp.

  Asmodeus’s golden eyes leaped there and caught on the three Hell’s angels standing before the cage in their true forms, their leathery wings furled against their immense black bodies and their eyes glowing crimson. The leader of the group bared red sharp teeth at Nevar and motioned to his comrades, grunting dark words in the demon tongue.

  They meant to take him.

  Asmodeus leaped over the fault line before him as it widened, unwilling to wait for the Devil’s men to appear. They were coming for him too. He had to reach Nevar and drive the Hell’s angels away before they could take him down to Hell. He had put the male in the cage and had commanded Serenity to place her most powerful enchantment on it so he couldn’t escape, and had kept him there in a weakened state. Nevar was in no condition to fight and, as much as he wanted the angel to pay for what he had done to Liora, he couldn’t stand by and let the Hell’s angels take him. He had made a vow to see to Nevar’s rehabilitation and to help him. He meant to keep that vow.

  He never broke his word.

  Claws snagged his left ankle and tugged hard, sending him slamming face first into the white sand. He gasped for air and got a lungful of sand instead.

  Asmodeus choked on it and pushed himself up at the same time as he kicked out at the Hell’s angel who had grabbed him. His boot connected hard with the demonic angel’s face and he grinned as the male grunted in pain and released his other leg. Asmodeus leaped to his feet, called his second blade to him, and attacked, not giving the male a chance to shake off the blow.

  Nevar shrieked, the sound born of fury, and a sharp snarl followed it together with the scent of blood. One of the Hell’s angels had come too close to Nevar’s claws. Asmodeus kicked off, the soft sand hindering his movements, and made a break for Nevar. The cage was in pieces behind Nevar, ripped apart from the outside. It was pandemonium as the male faced off against the three Hell’s angels, using his black claws against them, fighting like a mad fool even though he was outnumbered and outgunned. The three demonic angels had their red-bladed spears drawn and had already landed blows on Nevar, cutting across his thighs and upper arms.

  They were pulling their punches though. Why?

  Shouts came from the camp and then Veiron was in the thick of the fray in his true form, his meaty black fists smashing faces and cracking bones. He flashed twin rows of vicious red teeth at the other Hell’s angels.

  “You seriously want to tangle with me?” Veiron growled, his voice rumbling and deeper than normal, and grabbed the Hell’s angel that had attacked Asmodeus. He launched the male into the three battling Nevar. The leader dodged him but he crashed into the other two, taking them down into a heap.

  Asmodeus had made it halfway to Nevar when a portal opened right in front of him, exploding in white-hot flames, an arm shot out and dragged him inside. He hit the rough black ground on the other side and, the moment he stopped rolling, pushed onto his feet and called his blades and his limited armour.

  The Devil stood before him, his towering black fortress as his backdrop and his eyes bright crimson. He folded his arms across his chest, the action causing his black tailored suit jacket to tighten around his muscles.

  A wave of power washed over Asmodeus and drove him to his knees before he could even brace himself against it.

  The Devil was what Liora had once termed ‘pissed’.

  Another portal opened and Nevar fell through it, landing hard on his face and growling into the cracked pavement. He pressed his palms into the slabs and tried to push himself up. His arms strained, muscles bunching and tensing, but he didn’t manage to move an inch. It wasn’t his weakened state stopping him from righting himself. It was the force of the power pressing down on him. The Devil was extremely pissed at Nevar. Why?

  Asmodeus felt a portal open a few metres behind him and then heard bickering.

  Erin’s voice became clearer, ringing out around the courtyard.

  “I don’t care, Veiron… he broke the rules and he’ll bloody well pay.” She stormed past Asmodeus and he raised an ey
ebrow at her.

  She walked unhindered, as if the Devil wasn’t exerting all of his power and fury on the area.

  Was he directing it only at him and Nevar?

  Asmodeus inched his eyes left. He couldn’t see the others. He focused on his breathing and his power, willing his body to obey him and move. His head shifted a few inches. Veiron and the others were behind him, all of them on their knees, the rotting carcass of the dragon beyond them. Amelia and all of the males wore their armour and had their weapons drawn.

  Liora.

  Anger emanated from her in powerful waves.

  She knelt beside Apollyon and Serenity, breathing hard and fast, stilted ribbons of magic encircling her hands. Her eyebrows knitted and her jaw tensed, her steely hazel gaze locked on him.

  He hoped that the fury he could feel in her wasn’t directed at him and that she had moved past how she had felt on the beach, coming to terms with the things he had done and seeing that he truly did regret his actions now. At the same time, he felt he deserved her wrath for dragging her into this.

  She had been through one ordeal after another since meeting him, and the worst of them were completely his fault, the result of what he had done to Nevar.

  Asmodeus stared into her eyes and silently apologised to her, hoping she would see that he was sorry.

  The hard lines of her face softened and relaxed, and then her gaze shifted and fixed on the Devil, gaining a dark edge again. It gave him the answer he needed and eased his troubled heart. She was angry with the Devil for taking him and wanted to make him pay.

  Asmodeus could feel her desire to come to him and could sense her need to fight his master, and wished that she could move even as he was glad that she couldn’t.

  Her magic was at the ready but she was still weak, recovering from the wound Nevar had dealt her and what the Devil had done to her.

  She wasn’t strong enough to fight his master and he feared that if she somehow broke free of the Devil’s power, she would try to attack him and would get herself killed. He couldn’t go through that again. He had come close to losing her once and the pain of seeing her fade away, seeing her standing on the brink of death, had almost killed him. He couldn’t lose her. He would die without her.