Her Retribution

by Rory Miles

  A throat clears and my eyes snap to Beelzebub’s. He’s sitting right next to Jasper, like he didn’t fly after him to kill him.

  Shaking off my surprise, I harness some dignity and stand, eyeing the two of them. The late-night TV binge is par for the course with Jasper, so I don’t think I’m being fooled by a skin-walker. Besides, those nasty little demons are Prince Astaroth’s progeny, not Beelzebub’s.

  “Someone better explain.” They both look at each other, sharing a weird smile I don’t understand. Draven’s presence is reassuring and close. When they don’t answer, a slow simmering storm builds inside me. Similar to the one I felt with Dante, but stronger now with Mother Faerie’s power. Now that I know the warning signs, I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Fighting off the shadows that want to break free of my body, I hear Draven tell them I need a moment.

  Once I open my eyes again, Jasper and Beelzebub have lines of concern creasing their beautiful, demon faces.

  “What happened to you?” Beelzebub asks, shooting Draven an accusatory look.

  My fae lets out a low warning growl and I give them both an incredulous look. “One, you two owe me an explanation. Two, knock it off, Draven.”

  The throaty sound cuts off and Jasper smiles like a kid in a candy store. I walk to him and pinch his arm hard enough to draw black blood. He yelps and curses.

  “You’re alive.”

  “Last time I checked.”

  Sighing, I sit on the arm of the couch. “Don’t be cute. What happened? The last I saw you, you were fleeing for your life.”

  Beelzebub looks down at his hands.

  “And you, Bubsters,” I say, using the nickname as a jab. “You hunted him down. You told me you took care of him.” I raise my hands, making quote marks with my fingers and deepen my voice in imitation of his.

  “That was a terrible imitation,” Jasper stage whispers to Draven. “Usually she’s much better at these sorts of things.”

  To his credit, Draven catches his laugh before it escapes his mouth, but the wheeze of air he lets out tells me he finds all of this funny.

  Beelzebub is serious when he says, “I meant I took care of him, not that I killed him. Had you given me a chance to explain, you would have known that.”

  I feel a twinge of guilt at the disbelieving look he shoots me. Like I’ve greatly offended him by thinking he’d kill my friend. But, I mean, he is the heir and firmly in Lucifer’s pocket.

  Why wouldn’t he kill Jasper?

  Jasper giggles and I glare at him.

  “Really, Shera. How long is it going to take you to piece it together?”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  He smirks and wiggles his fingers at me. “Alive and well, babe.”

  “How?”

  His smile fades, and he sobers up a bit. “Beelzebub took care of me.”

  “Why?” I ask him, then turn to the prince. “Why would you help him?”

  Leaning forward, he invades my space so our noses are almost touching. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Devil below.

  Beelzebub likes me. That I know, his lust is loud and clear. But him liking me is different. Him saving my best demon friend, waiting here with him like a dutiful guard. That is absolutely, 157% different than just wanting to bang me.

  “She’s got it,” Jasper whispers like a proud parent.

  “Can it,” I say to him, not breaking eye contact with Beelzebub. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

  The prince doesn’t say a word, but I see the flicker of worry in his dark gaze. He knows. Betraying Lucifer, hiding a wanted fugitive, and doing it all for me, the succubus Lucifer wants to claim, is a death sentence.

  Draven interrupts our stare-off. “I’m afraid we’ve gotten off track. We need to find Naomi.”

  “What’s happened to Naomi?” This from Beelzebub, who stands from the couch and steps away from me, taking some space to clear his head.

  “Levia has her.”

  Jasper scrunches his brow. “Why?”

  “Shit,” Beelzebub says.

  My vamp bestie swivels his head and looks at Beelzebub. “What do you know about this?”

  The prince bristles at the accusatory tone. “Nothing good happens when Levia’s involved.”

  Draven summarizes what we saw with Vukan and Levia, how Dante and Naomi are now targets, and that we really, really need to find Naomi.

  At this point, I remember my phone and rush into the kitchen. Two missed messages from Anakin and three missed calls from Micah. Starting a group message, I fire off a quick text.

  Me: Where are you guys?

  Anakin: Where are we? Where are you??

  Micah: She lives. We’re at the Marriott.

  Me: Uptown or Pyramid?

  Anakin: Don’t tell her.

  Micah: Don’t mind him, he’s PMSing. Pyramid.

  I snicker, glancing up when Jasper comes into the kitchen.

  Me: Can you meet me at Jasper’s?

  “I invited Anakin and Micah over, you cool with that?” Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

  Jasper shrugs and rolls his eyes. “Sure, why not? Let’s have a demon party while we’re at it.”

  “Only if you have fae wine.”

  He scoffs. “Bitch, I always have fae wine.”

  Anakin: Be there in 15.

  Micah follows that up with a gif that says yas queen.

  I smile at the messages, then up at Jasper. “That’s why I love you.”

  Beelzebub and Draven appear in the doorway and Jasper gives me an amused once-over. “Don’t worry, boys, I prefer cock to vag.”

  “You’re so vulgar.” I laugh.

  Giving me an oh, please look, he says, “Shera, as we all know, enjoys a bit more variety. I’m sure she’d love to make a demon-demon-fae sandwich with you two. . . seeing as I know for certain she’s already had a demon-demon-demon sandwich with her other lovers.”

  He catches the coffee cup I fling at his head a second before it would have shattered over his face.

  Draven looks intrigued by the prospect, but Beelzebub? He looks absolutely repulsed. Which surprises me. He’s a demon, after all, shouldn’t he love that sort of stuff? Ah, but no. His main source of power is pride. Sharing a woman’s pleasure with another man would probably do all sorts of wonky things to him. The need to prove he’s better, thicker, harder would make him a horrible sharing partner.

  Noticing my full attention is pinned on him, and the downturn of his mouth, he cants his head and squints at me. Trying to read the thoughts racing through my mind.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asks, then clarifies, “Alone?”

  Draven glances at me, notices me staring at the prince, and narrows his eyes. “Do you want to talk to him?”

  Pulling my gaze away from Beelzebub, I smile at Draven and step close enough to breathe across his face. “Worried about me?”

  The bond is pulsing hot with desire, worry, and frustration. Who the last emotion is for isn’t clear. He grips my hips and smashes his mouth to mine, giving me the wildest kiss yet. It’s hot, feral, and sends a streak of want through my body.

  “Remember what I said.”

  It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s referring to. But then, I recall his words from our conversation when we first bonded.

  I will share if they are worthy of you.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I lead Beelzebub back to my room. Jasper has a three-bedroom, and one of his guest rooms is decorated just for me. A silky soft black and silver comforter covers the four-poster queen-size bed. A small round black rug covers the space between the bed and dresser. The refinished hardwood floors shine when I turn on the light.

  I point the prince to the oversized silver chair and take a seat on the bed. Crossing my legs, I look him over. He seems worried for some reason.

  “So,” I venture when the silence stretches on, “you wanted to talk?”

  “You asked if I knew what I was doin
g.”

  He looks to me for confirmation, so I nod. “I did.”

  He runs a hand over his face and sighs. “I’m not sure I know what I’ve done. To be honest, I had every intention of killing whoever was responsible for Rosie’s death. Then, when I caught Jasper’s scent during the chase. . . I knew.”

  The way he stares at me makes me blush and turn away.

  “If you know I’m responsible, why haven’t you told Lucifer?”

  Fabric rustles as he shifts in the seat. “Lucifer believes Rosie’s killer is dead.”

  Ever so slowly, I trace the lines of the room until I reach his gaze. “Who?”

  He shrugs. “A mid-level demon who deserved it.”

  “Beelzebub, why are you doing this? You are the heir. You’re second to Lucifer and as far as I know, the most loyal of the royal line.”

  My gaze flits between his hands, which are now clasped tightly together, his mouth pressing into a thin line, and the bands straining against his biceps. He’s full of tension.

  Starting to say something, he opens his mouth and makes an unintelligible noise. Then, he snaps his lips together and shakes his head. “Animus meus.”

  My spine goes ramrod straight, and my nostrils flare when he drops his magic. He’s been hiding most of his demon essence under the same sort of glamour I use, but when he lets it down, the full force and flavor wash over me. His Taint, the filth of his soul is rich like butter. The lust and attraction is smooth like chocolate, and his intentions are sweet like sugar.

  “You can’t,” I say around a thick swallow, flicking my gaze to the door. To speak the claiming words is even more of a betrayal to Lucifer. I have no idea what he’s doing or why, and it terrifies me. I’m half set on running from the room.

  “Shera.” His voice is coaxing and by the time I gaze into his eyes, he’s crossed the room and is kneeling in front of me. When his palms rest on my thighs, an unbearable inferno erupts over my skin.

  “No,” I whisper, begging him not to say the words because I don’t think I can deny him. Not like I do with Lucifer. Beelzebub is an enigma, a puzzle I’d love to solve given the chance. Here he’s offering the opportunity to do just that on a golden platter.

  One hand brushes the hair away from my face and rests beneath my ear, clutching my neck in a grip that is soft enough to know he’s sincere but firm enough to keep me from looking away.

  “Animus meus. Volo te.” I want you.

  Not a command to submit. Not the words to demand and answer. A confession of heart, and by the look in his eyes, it kills him to admit it. He’s being so gentle, something I’m not used to with the royal line. The lack of force makes me wary, but the way his thumb grazes against my skin, the way he leans toward me as if he doesn’t even notice it, tell me his words are true.

  I’m trembling when I say, “Lucifer will kill you.”

  Beelzebub’s smile is dark, lethal, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “He can try.”

  The doorbell rings, signaling Anakin and Micah’s arrival. What will happen if I accept this claim? Will he allow these relationships I’ve forged to continue or will he force me to be his and his alone? I’m not sure I can resist the call of the bond with Draven and whatever I have with Mother Faerie.

  Sensing my hesitation, he says, “We can figure it out. You’re a succubus, I’d be a fool to try and force you into monogamy. As long as you are happy, I’ll welcome the demons and the fae into your life.”

  “About Draven, there is a bond between us.”

  His brows scrunch. “What kind of bond?”

  “A fae life bond. I’m not entirely sure what it means, or how it will affect the claiming.”

  Nodding, he moves his hand from my neck to my wrist. “Does that mean you accept?”

  I lick my lips and with a trembling smile, I nod. “Yes.”

  His lips brush over mine as he whispers the binding words. When he’s done, I trace his lips with mine and our mouths meld together as a dark, gripping tether wraps around my heart and squeezes me like a vise. He lets out a grunt at the same time I gasp, and we pull our mouths apart. His forehead rests against mine and we both take a few ragged breaths.

  A fist bangs on the door. “Shera! Get your ass out here, all this testosterone is killing me.”

  Beelzebub chuckles at Jasper’s plea and sits back on his heels.

  “Yeah, I’ll be right out,” I call to my friend.

  “The bond will need to be consummated to take full effect, but it’s partially in place.”

  I nod, remembering my schooling. Demons don’t get much in the way of education, but we all learn the basics of our world. The claiming is one of the first things we are taught.

  “I do hope you can handle the final piece.”

  He smirks when my mouth drops open. I close it and give him a challenging glare.

  “Do you doubt my abilities?”

  Standing and stepping away from me, he holds a hand out to help me up. “I worry I may break you.”

  “Oh, Beelzebub,” I say with a tsk. “You have no idea who I am if you think you can break me.”

  His eyes lower slightly and the blast of want nearly knocks me off my feet. “I’ll enjoy trying.”

  With a tinkling laugh, I trail my finger over his chest and sashay out of the room while calling over my shoulder, “You can try.”

  My smile widens at his answering rumble of laughter. We may be faced with trying to retrieve Naomi and Lucifer’s reaction when he learns of the claiming, but in that moment, with that deep belly laugh surrounding me, it all fades away.

  When I step into the living room, the conversation screeches to a halt and Jasper drops his phone. The device clatters on the tile floor and the screen cracks. Anakin and Micah, who were leaning casually against the wall, stand and their eyes swirl with jinni magic.

  So much for that carefree feeling.

  Draven, being fae, can’t sense the change, but noticing the others’ response, gives me a concerned once-over.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  Beelzebub ambles into the room, picks up the remote and turns off the TV. He gives Anakin and Micah a nod before turning to Jasper. As if deciding his is the opinion he cares about most, he says, “You okay with this?”

  Jasper flounders and looks to me for help. When I shrug and offer no help, he glances at Micah and Anakin. With their jinni magic powered on, he can’t really ask them for any help. Not unless he wants an accidental wish. You’d thinking receiving a jinni wish would be a blessing, and you’d be wrong.

  He doesn’t bother with Draven; he’s fae and really has no helpful input in this situation.

  “Well?” Beelzebub asks with a hint of amusement.

  “If Shera accepted it, I guess I can’t complain.”

  Meeting the jinni’s gaze, Beelzebub drops his glamour. “The claiming has been laid. There is nothing you can do to stop it.”

  Neither speak, but I see Micah amping up his power. “Please don’t.”

  He doesn’t listen, of course, and says to Beelzebub, “One wish. Anything you like.”

  “What is happening?” Draven asks Jasper, who quietly explains the situation and how jinnis use their wish magic when feeling threatened. He must give him the spark note version of the jinni and the claiming, because a few moments later, Draven looks worried and irritated.

  Being heir, Beelzebub’s power is far greater than the jinnis’, so the wish is offered as a trick. A way for them to gain the upper hand. Beelzebub will need to choose his words carefully.

  “I accept the wish,” he says as if he has a choice. Once a jinni wish is given, the recipient must answer. “I wish for Naomi to be located, safely retrieved and brought back to Jasper’s apartment before a secure location can be found for her.”

  Smiling like a proud parent, I grasp his arm. “Well done!”

  He looks at me like I’m an idiot. Which maybe I am for worrying he’d screw it up, but after the last time someone I cared about
got a wish, can you blame me?

  “It will be done.” Micah’s power subsides now that the wish has been stated and accepted. Anakin is slower to power down, but when he does, I see the acceptance in his eyes.

  The granting of his wish doesn’t mean Naomi will magically appear, it simply means any attempt to thwart our rescue will be taken care of and saving her just became a whole lot easier.

  Had Beelzebub asked for something more selfish, like having me to himself, I don’t think it would have gone so smoothly. Wishes driven by selfish wants never end well. The recipient gets what they want, just not in the way they expect. For instance, if Beelzebub had asked for me to be his and only his, he might’ve been granted full rights to me but I would have hated him for the rest of our lives.

  The claiming, while unexpected for all of us, will not be fought. At least, not between us demons. Having more than one partner is not uncommon in Avernus, and since I’m a succubus, it’s expected that I’ll either never settle with one or I’ll settle with many. I have yet to determine what Draven thinks. Once we have a moment alone, I’ll assess his mood. For now, we’ve got a plan to make.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Vegas?” Draven asks incredulously.

  Anakin smirks. “Carnivea likes to make a statement.”

  “And what better way to make a statement than to have a meeting for her progeny and kin at a Cirque du Soleil show.” Jasper laughs and hands me a bottle of water.

  “The duchess knows how to party; I’ll give her that.”

  Beelzebub says, “I can’t be a part of this rescue mission.”

  I nod. “It’s smart for you to stay behind. Lucifer won’t sense the claiming bond unless we are together. The next meeting in Avernus won’t be for at least a few weeks. Hopefully that’ll buy us enough time to make a game plan. Draven and I will go with Anakin and Micah; Jasper, you need to stay out of sight. Beelzebub may have covered for you, but who knows if Lucifer accepted his decoy.”

  Jasper frowns. “It’s been a few days.”

  Shrugging, I say, “It doesn’t matter. You need to be careful and stay low. Chances are, someone else picked up on your scent as well. If word gets back to Lucifer that the demon Beelzebub delivered isn’t the one who fled the meeting, Berith will come looking.”