“I would never hurt you,” Asmodeus said to her.
Samael stepped forward and took Asmodeus’s arm, yanking him away from Brandy with a disapproving frown. “You need to feed, son. I’ll take you now.”
“Yes, go,” I said, waving them off. “I’ll handle things here.”
Asmodeus reached out to Brandy like he was going to stroke her face, but then he dropped his hand and his expression turned grim. Samael’s wings stretched out and he picked up his son, before they flew up into the sky. Unlike Samael, Asmodeus didn’t have wings. He took after his mother, Lilith, instead.
Brandy watched them fly away and brushed her fingers across her eyes, wiping away tears she didn’t wish me to see. Then her head snapped to me and she stared at me with something like curiosity.
“You know who I am?” I asked. As she certainly knew all about demons now, there was no sense in hiding my abilities or pretending to be other than I was.
She bit her lip and nodded, but I was impressed that she didn’t drop her eyes or look away. “Asmodeus told me. I didn’t believe it at first but…”
She was handling things very well, all things considered. I could see why Hannah would practically sell her soul for such a friend. “We’re going to fly you back to my hotel, The Celestial, where you can recover in safety. Hannah is there already.”
“Hannah?” Brandy looked around at all the bodies helplessly. “She can’t be here. This place, this world…”
Perhaps this was a bit much for a mortal to endure. I waved my arm and the night devoured the bodies, causing them to vanish. That only made her jump though, and I wondered whether I’d overdone it. It had been a long time since I’d shown my true self to humans, and I forgot how skittish they became around blood and magic.
“Hannah is the reason we found you,” I explained. “She’ll be relieved to see you’re all right.”
“Am I?” she asked with a short laugh, as she rubbed her arms and gazed at the hotel with dark memories in her eyes. Yes, she definitely needed to leave this place. After my people finished searching the motel for evidence, I’d burn it down in her honor.
I snapped my fingers. “Gadreel, please escort Ms. Brandy back to The Celestial and set her up in one of the luxury suites.”
Gadreel stepped forward and nodded, his pale wings stretching out behind him. She stared at them with her mouth open, and then he said something quietly to her before picking her up. I could have carried Brandy myself, of course, but that felt like a betrayal of Hannah. Another woman in my arms? No. I only wanted the one who was meant for me.
I barked out a few orders to the remaining Fallen and Lilim at the scene, making sure they left no stone unturned in their search. I didn’t know why those shifters had taken Asmodeus and Brandy, but their betrayal made my blood boil. I needed to know if this was an isolated rogue group, or if this was part of a larger act of mutiny. Hopefully when Asmodeus recovered he’d have some answers too.
I took one last look around before taking off into the sky, eager to tell Hannah that her friend had been rescued. My part of the deal was complete.
Now it was her turn.
11
Hannah
I paced back and forth in the penthouse until my feet ached. Shouldn’t they be back by now? I checked the clock for the fiftieth time but only two minutes had passed since I’d last looked at it. I groaned and turned away before I drove myself even more mad.
Azazel watched me from where she lounged on the black leather sofa in Lucifer's living room. With her rich, dark skin and black leather clothing, she looked like a panther—deadly but deceptively relaxed. While drinking a glass of red wine, she watched every single one of my movements like she had to report them all to Lucifer.
“You’re making me tired, little mortal.” She yawned and shifted her position, stretching like a feline.
I stopped and sighed. “I’m sorry my pacing exhausts you. Aren’t you the least bit worried?”
Zel snorted. “Not at all. If your friend isn’t dead already, Lucifer won’t let her be hurt. And if she is, well, it’s already done.”
I threw my hands up at her infuriating response. “What about Lucifer? He’s your boss, isn’t he?”
She laughed in response to that. “You really don’t need to worry about him.”
Maybe not, but I was surprised at how much the thought of him being wounded made my chest tighten and my heart pound. Why did I even care? He was the devil, for crying out loud. Should I be rooting for him at all, or was that like siding with evil? But if he was rescuing innocent women from kidnappers, wouldn’t that make him the good guy? Damn, this shit was confusing.
Still, I probably shouldn’t be worried. I’d only known Lucifer for a few short days, during which he’d basically held me captive. Okay, he’d also bought me a lot of nice stuff and treated me like a queen, but I’d also seen some pretty terrifying things. Not to mention, I’d nearly died too.
To say I was conflicted was an understatement.
I sucked in a breath. All I wanted was for Brandy to be safe. I would focus on that and figure out everything else later.
With nothing to do but wait, I plopped into one of the armchairs and jiggled my leg. Zel moved again on the sofa, cat-like, adjusting so she could see me better.
“So you’re a fallen angel?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Mainly to distract myself from glaring at the clock once more.
“If you must know, I was once an Erelim.”
I gave her a blank look. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”
She sighed and began to speak like she was explaining something even a child would know. “Angels have four Choirs, each with different abilities. Malakim are healers, Ishim can go invisible, Ofanim detect truth, and Erelim are warriors of light.”
I shrugged. I still didn’t really know what she was talking about. “So what happened?”
She pinned me with a dark gaze. “I followed Lucifer into Hell and became a Fallen, like the rest of his loyal soldiers.”
My mouth fell open. “Wouldn’t that make you thousands of years old?”
She idly examined one of her perfect red nails. “Yes, I’ve been Lucifer’s blade for many years of both war and peace.”
“War?” At least Zel was a good distraction from my worries. “What war?”
“The Great War.” She waited for my response, but I just shrugged again, and she rolled her eyes. “The war between Heaven and Hell?”
“Oh, right.” I probably should have guessed that. “Is the war still going on?”
“No, it ended a little over thirty years ago when Lucifer and Archangel Michael signed the Earth Accords, and we were all forced to leave Heaven and Hell to live in this dull realm.” She sneered. “Supposedly angels and demons have been at peace since then.”
“Why don’t you sound happier about that?”
“I prefer war,” Zel snapped.
Her words had a tone of finality, but clearly there was more to it than that. While I debated whether to let it go or ask more questions, because I still had a million of them when it came to angels and demons, the sound of windows shattering filled the room.
I screamed as shards of glass rained down on us. Zel was immediately on top of me, protecting my body with her own, pressing me to the marble floor. I managed to crane my neck up as people with demonic, bat-like wings and stony gray skin poured into the room, and I nearly screamed again.
“Gargoyles,” Zel practically spat. “Stay down!”
Fine with me. No way was I getting near one of those things. If I’d had any doubts about demons existing, they flew right out the window the second I saw the winged monsters arrive.
Zel jumped up and sprang into action. I watched, mouth agape, as she whipped two daggers out of holsters at her thighs and began to mow the creatures down. She threw some incredible moves with the daggers, and they flew almost faster than I could see in her hands. One glowed with white light, while the other had a strang
e black glow that reminded me of Lucifer’s wings. But the gargoyles seemed almost impenetrable, with skin like stone, and her kicks bounced off them. Only the glowing white dagger seemed to do much damage to them.
I scrambled back from an inhuman snarl behind me as hot, fetid breath wafted across the base of my neck. One of the gargoyles had gotten around Zel. With a panicked yelp, I crawled across the carpet on all fours, knees digging into the tiny beads of shattered glass. The gargoyle grabbed my leg, dragging me toward him with a vice-like grip, and sheer terror flooded me. I grunted and kicked at his face with my other leg, successfully connecting with his nose.
It was like kicking a boulder.
I was pretty sure I did more damage to my foot than to his face. These fuckers really were made of stone. His impossibly strong fingers dragged me toward him, no matter how much I fought back, but then Zel threw her light dagger at the beast’s chest. The creature howled and released me, giving me enough time to scramble away.
The door to Lucifer’s library was open and I bolted for it, running faster than I’d ever done in my life. I darted through and tried to close the door from the inside, but another gargoyle slipped his hand through and grabbed the door at the last second, stopping it from shutting all the way. He shoved the door open with inhuman strength, and I cursed and backed away.
I looked around the room frantically, searching for a weapon. Anything that would help keep this monster off me. My gaze landed on that ornamental sword mounted on the wall behind Lucifer’s creepy desk. It seemed to call to me, and I was unable to tear my gaze away.
Before I could question my actions, I stood on tiptoes and jerked the sword from the wall, ripping it out of its jeweled sheath, then lurching forward when the weight of the blade surprised me. The tip nearly hit the ground before I corrected and swung it up, just in time for blinding white light to burst out of the blade as it slashed across the gargoyle’s chest. The glowing sword cut through his stone skin like butter, and I gasped as he hit the ground, dead.
The impact of his stone body hitting the marble floor left cracks in it and sent rubble and dust flying. As soon as the life left him, his wings vanished and he changed, looking for all intents and purposes like a normal human. A normal, very dead human.
Holy shit, I’d just killed someone.
Before I could process what I’d done, another gargoyle charged into the library after me. By sheer instinct and some sort of survival mode I’d switched on, the sword kept moving, cutting down my attacker as I wielded it with the kind of skill I never dreamed I possessed.
I didn’t have time to question it. More gargoyles poured through the door, and my hands kept moving, as did my whole body as I danced and sparred and killed. It was like I’d discovered a muscle memory I never knew I had, like I’d spent most of my life with a sword in my hand. And a good thing too, because here I was, swinging this damn sword and hitting my target every time like my life depended on it—which it totally did.
Gargoyle after gargoyle fell to the ground under the sharp, shining blade, and then Zel was fighting alongside me, her movements impossibly fast and shrouded in darkness. She’d throw a dagger, then use shadow tentacles to pull it back to her hand, and if I hadn’t been fighting my own demons, I would have stopped to stare.
“You all right, little mortal?” Zel yelled, as she stabbed a gargoyle through the neck.
“I think so?” I called back, as I narrowly dodged a gargoyle’s claws. With a mighty swoop, I chopped the head off of him, like some kind of bloodthirsty warlord riding a battle high. Okay, maybe I wasn’t all right. But I couldn’t stop either.
Zel cut down the last gargoyle, and then we were alone. Standing amid a circle of dead bodies. Panting heavily and covered in dust and blood.
I looked down at myself and the horror of it all finally hit me. The adrenaline left me in a rush, and the sword fell from my hand and clattered on the floor. I looked at my trembling hands, wondering if they were mine. How had I done all that? I’d never even held a sword before, as far as I could remember. Yet somehow I’d cut down my opponents like it was nothing. Like I’d been born for combat.
“How?” I looked up at Zel, my heart racing and bile rising in my throat. “How did I…?”
Zel leaned against one of the large bookcases, looking completely at rest as she wiped off her daggers with a small cloth. “That was some show. I have to admit, I’m impressed, little mortal.”
“I killed them.” My gaze flew over the lifeless bodies, knowing I’d been responsible for their deaths. “Oh god, I killed them.”
She shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “It was you or them.”
Pushing off the bookcase, she nudged the sword I’d used with her boot, then carefully picked it up with her cloth, like she worried it would burn her, even though the bright light had faded. I felt a pang of something like possessiveness when she touched it, like I wanted to snatch the blade from her and shout, “Mine!” I stepped back instead, shaking my head to clear it. What the hell was wrong with me?
“How did I do this?” I asked, my voice faltering.
“That’s not my story to tell,” she said. “You’ll have to ask Lucifer.”
She walked out of the library, leaving me standing amid a circle of death—one caused by my own hand.
12
Lucifer
I landed hastily on the balcony of my penthouse, taking in the destruction. The windows of the living room had all been shattered, and tiny pieces of glass shimmered in the moonlight. Panic and dread fought for control inside me as I rushed inside.
“Hannah?” I yelled.
My furniture had been tossed about and broken, and a thin layer of dust and rubble coated the floor, along with blood. No bodies though, and no sign of Hannah or Azazel either.
I ran to Hannah’s room, but it was empty and untouched except for the broken windows and the glass all over the floor. Where was she? I returned to the living room and turned in a circle. My rage and fear nearly overwhelmed me. Darkness slipped from my fingertips, eager to find someone to punish for this invasion. How dare they attack my penthouse? Where my woman was?
“She’s fine.”
Whirling, I nearly blasted Azazel with dark magic before I reined myself in. “Where is she?”
“In your room. She’s asleep, and unharmed.”
Relief settled over me and I let out a long breath, then rested a hand on Azazel’s shoulder. “Thank you for protecting her. I knew you wouldn’t fail me. Gargoyles, was it?”
She bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. “They were trying to kidnap Hannah.”
My fists clenched at my side and filled with hellfire, waiting to be unleashed. First imps, then shifters, and now gargoyles. Were all my demons turning against me? And why attack now? They must have known we were going to be away rescuing Hannah’s friend. Another betrayal against me.
“There’s something you should see,” Azazel said.
She led me into the library, where the gargoyles’ bodies had dropped in a circle. The clean-up crew was still working here, and they all gave me a low bow before continuing their work. Even though much of the carnage was gone, I spotted some heads removed from their bodies, and there were many more attackers than even Azazel could face.
I arched an eyebrow at her. “You did all this?”
“No, I had help. From Hannah.” Azazel crossed her arms and cocked her head at me. “She used Morningstar.”
I glanced over at the spot on the wall where the sword usually hung, but it was missing. Then I saw it resting on my desk, beside its jewel-encrusted sheath. I picked it up and examined the sword I’d wielded back when I was an Archangel in Heaven, now covered in traces of gargoyle blood and stone but still glowing with the white light of the angels. I’d clean it later, after I checked on my mate.
“Impressive,” I said, as I set the sword back down. “She must be remembering, finally.”
I left Azazel in the library and stalked to my room
. The door wasn’t quite closed, and I opened it silently. Hannah was passed out on the bed, curled up in a ball, clutching my pillow tightly to her chest. She’d fallen asleep tense, based on the way her brows were furrowed together, and at some point she’d thrown the sheets off herself and pushed them into a heap on the empty side of the bed.
My rage quieted, turning into a strong relief to see her alive. When I’d arrived and found the evidence of an attack, I’d feared the worst. Though Hannah’s eventual death would be inevitable, I wanted to spend more time with her first.
For a few seconds I simply stared at her, watching her breathe. She wore another of those slinky little nightgowns we’d bought yesterday, and it showed off every curve of her body. Her golden hair draped down her shoulders, and one of her hands was reaching out, like it was searching for me. Intense longing to claim her ran through me, but I pushed it down, back into its dark depths.
I sat gingerly beside her and rested my hand on her shoulder, needing to feel her soft skin, to confirm she was alive. I didn’t intend on waking her, but the moment I touched her, her eyes popped open and she sat straight up, like she was ready to bolt.
Tension left her the second she saw me. “Lucifer?”
I kept my hand on her shoulder, hoping to keep her calm. “It’s okay. I’m here. Brandy’s safe.”
Hannah surprised me by throwing her arms around me and letting out what sounded like a relieved sob. “She’s okay? Really?”
I held her close against me, savoring the feel of her in my arms once more. Where she belonged. “Of course she is. I promised, didn’t I?”
“Thank you.” She slowly sat back and wiped tears from her eyes. “Where is she?”
“She’s in a suite here at the hotel, with a human doctor tending to her, along with plenty of food and plenty of armed bodyguards. I’m having some clothes brought up for her too, and I sent someone to let her family know she’s all right.”
Demon King (Claimed By Lucifer Book 1) Page 9
