by Rory Miles
Surprisingly, the human makes me chuckle. Lo is a breath of fresh air; always happy and knows when to talk and when not to. Plus, the woman makes the best martinis.
After Lo sets my cocktail down, I pick up the olived-stick and turn to Jasper.
“How are you handling things?” Using my teeth, I slide the first olive off the toothpick.
He sips his drink before answering. “Am I so transparent?”
I raise an eyebrow.
Jasper grimaces. “Kids are always hard for me. Such purity Tainted at such a young age.”
“I know,” I whisper and stare across the packed room.
“How was your afternoon?”
With a wave of my hand, I say, “Boring and uneventful.” I’m not ready to admit I’d fallen for Beelzebub’s ruse, whatever its purpose.
The vampire glances over my shoulder. “Shera, incoming.”
I sit up straight when I hear the warning in Jasper’s voice and cast a glance back. Two demons are heading our way.
“Shit,” the word tumbles out of my mouth on a whisper.
“I thought we had more time.” Jasper’s words barely reach my ears.
We share a knowing look. There are no real schedules when it comes to reporting to Avernus. If the high lord calls, one does not simply ignore the request. Not only could ignoring the request get you killed, Lucifer has the Creator-given ability to bring demons to Avernus no matter what world they’re in. This power is how he can control us, and resisting an escort is just plain stupid. I’ve lost count of how many times I cursed the Creator for putting him in charge instead of me. Wouldn’t it have made more sense for the first demon to be the leader? I guess not if the Creator worried I’d threaten his power if I were in such a position. Regardless of what I might wish, Lucifer is in charge.
Looks like we’re going to Hell. Literally, of course.
Our kind escorts lead us to a darkened corner in the bar. Their forms bleed into the shadows, becoming one with the dark. Suddenly, the world blurs and I feel my essence retreat into the shadows as well. A little rush of excitement works its way from my toes to the tips of my fingers when I feel the veil between the worlds. I slither a bit too eagerly toward it. Devil bless the mage that was crazy enough to make such a thing possible. The others are with me; though I can’t see them, I sense their essence alongside me.
Finding the swirling vortex at the center of the veil, I move toward it, and all light disappears as I’m sucked into the black hole. I find my footing when I pop out of the vortex, landing firmly in Avernus. The Underworld. Hell. Dante’s Inferno. They’re all the same.
A loud suctioning pop resounds, a shadowy essence rises, and the darkness coalesces to form Jasper. Before I can blink, he is bodily before me. I move before our escorts fully form; I know where I’m going.
Hell is colder than I recall, especially given the unyielding heat of the climate, and my dress does nothing to stave off my sudden chill. Could it be fear causing the sudden gooseflesh on my arms? No, I refuse to acknowledge the feeling.
Jasper remains quiet, though I’m not surprised. We were found fraternizing, a big no-no when it comes to demons on earth. Each brand of demon sticks to their own, per the high lord’s orders. Fraternizing led to brave demons attempting foolish things, like overthrowing Lucifer. Despite our similar bloodlines, Jasper is a vampire and I’m a succubus. Thus, we’re not allowed to be friends.
Our veil jump left us a short distance from the main path. Volcanic rock covers the ground, remnants of the creation when rock and gas joined, pressing together until great fire exploded from the ground and slathered the world with molten lava. Within the raging inferno, Avernus formed. The heart of the world is surrounded by a ring of black mountains which jut up and reach toward the sky.
The Creator, just like his sisters Gaia, Sahira and Mother Faerie, made his own world and beings to inhabit it. Why he chose to make such vicious beings never made sense, but here I am, one of the finest creations he’s ever made, if I do say so myself. Where vampires, dragons, and skin walkers numbered in the thousands, my kind had only four. Two succubi and two incubi. This may have given some a bit of self-doubt, but if anything, it gave me a smug sort of confidence. After all, perfection is hard to achieve and the Creator only managed it four times.
Had there been more of us, I’m sure the Creator would have given the high lord leave to truly kill me. But, alas, this is not the case. Lucky for me.
Warmth from the ground seeps through my shoes. I don’t fear an eruption—one hasn’t occurred since the creation—but I do fear breaking my heel in the ruggedness. Damn the Devil for not leaving me time to change.
Earth’s cities are constructed in an array of light colors: light grey, tans, and even whites. In Hell, cities are built with black upon black until the homes and high-rise buildings blur and meld with the surrounding terrain. There is no eternal fire in Hell, but the heat I’m accustomed to sweeps over me the closer we get to the main part of the city.
The rocky terrain gives way to black paved sidewalks. There are no cars in Hell, just wide paved paths for demons to walk, fly, crawl, or loop over. Unfortunately for me, succubi can’t fly and I’m forced to walk nearly three miles in my four-inch kicks.
Jasper still hasn’t spoken and the escorts are just as insufferable. Stoic and filled with purpose—escorting the high lord’s favorite troublesome demon and her vampire companion. Time to figure out what the hell (ha) I’m walking into.
“God, I need to get laid.” Dropping my glamour, I shove a blast of full-powered allure at all of them. Red dances around the edges of my vision as I gaze upon the men.
My vampire groans and his eyes bleed to black. “Shera.” He growls my name in a way that makes my skin dance.
“Jasper,” I purr in response.
“Stop.” His fangs have not descended, meaning he is nearly at full strength, and barely strong enough speak through my allure. Still, the eyes tell me all I need to know. My allure is potent tonight.
Thank you, Rem.
Like Jasper, I typically go long lengths of time between feedings, but with the sporadic way in which Lucifer calls meetings and my own hunger, I can’t abstain. Instead, I take small doses, sometimes weakening myself enough to be less powerful than the princes and princesses. With the fresh supply of essence, I’m near full strength.
The errand boys stop walking and both of their mouths hang open as I stretch, pushing my breasts out further than necessary.
“Care to dance?” I ask the one on the right of Jasper. His eyes are red, face distorting as several lumps form across his forehead and down his cheeks, and his nails sharpen to short claws. When his skin turns red, I know exactly what I’m dealing with.
Sauntering over to him, I tip his chin up and blow over his shell-shocked face before turning to Jasper and saying, “Wonderful, Berith is here.”
Jasper nods in understanding. If this murderous demon was selected to come retrieve us, Lucifer didn’t order it. His brother Berith, another self-righteous demon prince who spawned an entire line of viciously violent, and if I’m frank, ugly beings, did. Since they’re nearly full-blood descendants of Berith, the high lord would have a hard time controlling such pure-blooded progeny.
Now, you may be tempted to misunderstand that last part. Pure doesn’t mean an innocent virgin who prays every night to the good lord above. No, no. Pure means pure of blood. As in, a direct descendent from Berith. The stronger the relations, the stronger the likeness. Berith, although much larger and darker in skin, looked nearly identical to the demon escorting us. This one was probably first of his line and thus, harder for Lucifer to command.
Sort of like me, but seeing as I’m the first demon, Lucifer has a slippery grip on the leash he tries to hold me on. If I wanted to, I could dissolve the hierarchy and rule over Avernus. Or at least, I think I could. The higher ranking the demon, the more power I’d gain from taking their souls. Once I’d had enough essence stored up, even Lucifer
wouldn’t be able to stop me.
A plan like that took time and honestly, a bit more effort than I was willing to expend. There’d be so much killing. Given the patriarchal ways of Avernus, I doubt my attempt at a revolution would garner much support and I’d be forced to exterminate the majority of the population. Even I was unsure of how much power such a feat would take. Thus, I suffered through my demonic life and did my best not to end up in the box.
“Tell me, how many demonlings do you have?”
The demon gives me a dazed look. “Who counts anymore?”
I sidestep the claw-tipped hand that reaches for me.
“Ah, ah. Never touch without permission.”
He pouts but pulls his paw back.
Zeroing in on his partner, I slam him with allure. He doesn’t flinch this time. I frown and step closer, running a finger down his arm. His jaw ticks once, so slight I hardly notice it. Somehow, he is fighting me.
“What’s your name?” I ask him and lean in a bit closer.
“Durmada.” He speaks between clenched teeth.
Jasper huffs. “Beelzebub is here as well then.”
Fucking great.
Shooting Jasper a look, I say, “Look at you connecting the dots.”
Knowing what I’m dealing with, I don’t bother breaking the prideful spawn of Beelzebub. They hate losing control and fight much harder than any other line of demons. Beelzebub is a pain in my ass, but he is the kindest of the princes. If he is here, it means that the rest of the royals are as well.
Jasper tilts his head toward the path and we all start walking once again. The escorts don’t bother asking questions; they have one job and it isn’t to question my actions.
“Everyone then?” The vampire nudges me with his elbow.
“Apparently.” My heels click on the black pavement and I focus on settling the flutter of nerves rising in my stomach.
Berith hates Lucifer; there is only one reason he’d be present. We are about to walk into a full-fledged meeting of demons. Every demon in existence is likely to be in attendance, that is if they don’t want to die the final death.
Just fucking peachy.
Chapter Five
We make our way toward Hell’s version of a civic center, a large auditorium in the basement of one of the tallest buildings in Lucifer City. Yes, the bastard has a city named after himself. Don’t even get me started. Lucifer City is home to over a million demons and is responsible for the weakening of most bloodlines. With so many demons in one place, species blend and create some interesting hybrids. Fascinating as they may be, they’re low born and hardly register in the power dynamic.
Lucifer’s tower rises high into Avernus’s sky; the windows, steel and doors are all onyx black. The red light from lanterns dotting the sidewalk reflect on the dark panes. Soon, we are surrounded by hundreds of demons, all filing into three lines to get into the building. Most have dropped their glamour and I dodge wings, horns, tails and webbed feet as we progress through the crowd.
Our guards shove past those waiting in line and no one bats an eye. Demons aren’t really ones to follow rules so cutting is hardly something worth fighting about. Plus, once those shoved aside see who they’re escorting, they understand.
These low born recognize my place and rush to let me pass through the throngs to the front of the line. I follow the escorts through the entrance and away from the lift that everyone else is taking. Jasper trails behind, hesitant and unsure. I look over my shoulder and shake my head. Though I’d love to have him by my side, he can’t come with me. He’s of more pure blood than most, but he has no place with the royals.
He grimaces and turns, heading to the line for the lift.
Turning back around, I follow the escorts to a familiar doorway. We enter the executive lobby, pass by the few elites chatting on plush red chaise longues, and get onto the smaller lift in the room. I catch glimpses of the black and red velvet covering the walls of the lobby before the doors close with a soft click. The sound sends a shiver down my spine as we begin descending to the auditorium. We pass four levels before the lift stops on the fifth lower level, opening to reveal black marble flooring. A small hallway, painted in black and white pinstripes, leads to the stage area.
There are two doors on either side of the hall and one at the end; one on the side leads to Lucifer’s office, and the other holds the box and other torturous toys.
The hair on the nape of my neck rises as we pass that door and I work to control my reaction. I hate these meetings. We stop at the black ceiling-to-floor-length door and the guard enters in his code to unlock the bolts. This obnoxious piece of wood with carvings of the devil is the only thing standing between me and a night of torture. The bolt buzzes as the mechanism accepts the code entered and the lock clicks open.
A blast of hot air rushes over my skin when the door is pulled open and the dull roar of voices caresses my skin. The hum of energy is low, seeing as the room contains mostly demons, but I feel the distinct energy of a very pure human woman. I scrunch my brows and shift through the essence in the auditorium, but I feel no other humans present.
The lift whirs as it descends again, but even that doesn’t help shake off my surprise. A human in Avernus is a rare thing. Who brought the creature, and what exactly are they doing bringing it into an auditorium full of beasts who would love to do nothing more than destroy that purity?
The guard holding the door, Beelzebub’s demon, coughs. I flick my gaze to him and drop part of my glamour, blasting him with allure. His legs clench and his gaze roams over my scantily clad body.
Placing a hand on my hip and flicking my hair over my shoulder, I say, “Try rushing me again and I’ll make you forget who you are and where you came from.”
A familiar presence comes to stand at my back. Dante, a particularly irksome demon, runs his hand over my bare shoulder. Despite my tendency to want to throat-punch him, I shiver in delight. Incubi, while totally useless for a succubi, know how to make a woman putty in their hands. Luckily, I’m just as potent to him.
“Now, now, Shera. Is that anyway to treat this kind folk?” His deep-timbred voice slithers down my spine and hits my core, calling to my inner beast.
I turn, go up on my toes, and brush a kiss across his gorgeous cheek. The tick in his jaw and the way his eyes flutter closed tell me I’m affecting him just as much as he is me. His dark brown hair is longer on top and styled in a way that is effortlessly chic. The expensive navy-blue suit he’s wearing doesn’t do his body justice, but fits well enough you get hints of the muscular physique underneath.
“Shera.” His voice holds a warning.
“Don’t play with fire if you aren’t ready to burn, Dante.” I quirk a brow at him.
I place my hand on his chest and through the slight touch I can feel his heart racing. The tight control he keeps on his glamour slips, and for a breathtaking second his power brushes against mine, slowly winding around me like a snake would its prey. My heart kicks up in anticipation.
Time to go.
Giving him a gentle shove with my palm, I back away. Us playing together is a dangerous game; if we aren’t careful, we could drain each other of our essence and be left empty shells.
Pity that; Dante is absolutely scrumptious. Now you know why he irritates me to no end. What I wouldn’t give to have him in my bed.
He chuckles, steps away from me, and takes a deep breath. When his eyes meet mine again, I see he’s regained control, but he leaves his glamour down. There’s no reason to conceal our power here, especially not when we are about to go on stage. There are expectations of how we should act and we wouldn’t want to disappoint the devil, now would we?
“Shall we?”
I wrap my arm around the one he’s proffered and let him lead me through the darkened doorway onto a dimly lit stage. There are eleven elegant chairs placed in a semi-circle behind an ostentatious black throne. The seven of the first hierarchy are seated already. Dante leads us to our seats. I ki
ss him on the cheek, just for fun, and situate myself in the chair.
Leaning one arm on the armrest, I cross my legs and don’t bother adjusting my dress. Asmodeus, Prince of Wantonness, watches Dante sit, untamed desire filling his eyes. When he turns his gaze on me, my heart stutters to a stop. My succubus senses tingle and I fight the urge to saunter over to him and assert my dominance. Despite being more powerful than most of the princes and princesses of Hell, having the full attention of a mighty demon prince thrust upon me stirs my predatory nature. Almost like an uncontrollable desire to assert my dominance and take that powerful essence before he has a chance to have a go at me.
Asmodeus is all hard lines and muscle, but the look works for him. His black hair is trimmed short and his olive skin complements his dark brown eyes. He’s never tried to hurt me, but our similar power ranking raises both of our hackles. He gulps and tears his eyes from my body. I smirk, knowing I’ve won the first power struggle of the night.
Dante has just won his stare-off with Verrina, but she isn’t known for her patience. There is no doubt of Dante’s power—Verrina is one of the weakest in the immediate royal line. She smooths her short hair and crosses her arms over her chest. All the leather she’s wearing makes it look like she’s ready to whip some demons into obedience.
“Well played,” I say to him before focusing on the task at hand.
Astaroth is only slightly harder to force into submission; his power to tempt men into laziness rubs off on him. He gives me a deliberately slow once-over before shrugging and turning away. His long brown hair and strong frame reminds me of Jason Momoa. Though, I’d take the Khal over Astaroth any day.
Gressil goes next, faking a confidence I know he doesn’t have. He’s shorter than the rest and far less attractive; his nose is turned up and his eyes are too far apart. Sometimes lack of symmetry works, but that’s not the case with Gressil. He’s the least powerful prince, and he too loses his focus and submits.
When my gaze slams into Beelzebub’s, I feel my will falter and am tempted to let loose the rest of my glamour control. He’s first in line for a good reason. When my gaze strays to his arms, he flexes them and the muscles strain against the gold bands he wears.
