End of Eden (Se7en Sinners Book 2)

by S. L. Jennings

  When they sag onto the floor, finally unconscious, Danielle and Zachary’s limp bodies are dragged away, their filth and blood streaking the red stone floor. Casual conversation resumes as if nothing has transpired, giving way to creeping guilt. What have I done? How have I allowed this? And why…why did I take pleasure in their abuse?

  What’s happening to me?

  “Forgive me, but I must attend to a few pressing matters,” Lucifer announces, climbing to his feet and buttoning his jacket. “Eden, if you would like some company for the remainder of your evening, please do not hesitate to indulge in all my home has to offer. Christina, Amanda, Sandra… I’m sure they’d be more than happy to occupy your time.”

  I glance over at his whores to find them squirming with expectation. Glazed eyes, pink cheeks, dew-dusted skin… Are they already aroused? From the carnage we just witnessed?

  I allow myself a quick look at Niko who, again, shakes his head just a mere fraction.

  “No.” I say, mimicking the gesture and earning pouty lips followed by disappointed groans. “No, I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed.”

  “Suit yourself. This isn’t Earth, Eden. No one will deny you your body’s desires. Just as long as you remember who it is you belong to.”

  I want to tell him that I belong to no one but myself. But am I really? In those moments of carnage, as he whispered those earnest words to me, speaking of justice of all those innocent lives, I was wholly under his spell. I was captivated by the promises his sensual lips provided. And it wasn’t a ploy. I wasn’t playing a role in some fucked up game. I wanted them to hurt. I wanted his brand of retribution. And as I sit here, the smell of their blood and bile still fresh in my nostrils, I’m struggling to take it back. And honestly…do I really want to?

  I stand on weak legs without another word, too distressed to give a fuck about social etiquette. I can’t look at Niko and see the ghost of disappointment on his brow. I can’t give a damn about those three girls, and how incredible I felt when their tongues laved my body. And I can’t think about the moment I just shared with the embodiment of sin, and how his heartfelt words and his solemn gaze have left me feeling…less alone.

  Saskia is waiting for me on the other side of the heavy wooden doors. The entire trek to my room, I wonder if she can smell the evil seeping from my pores.

  By the time I lift my exhausted frame from the bathroom floor, Saskia is gone. I had dismissed her the moment we returned, but she lingered, busying herself with straightening the already pristine room while giving me space to retch the rot from my soul.

  I stand in front of the mirror, but I cast my eyes downward. I can’t look at myself, not after the horrors I’ve seen. But mostly, I’m afraid I won’t recognize the person staring back. The person that reveled in that debasement…that stood witness to rape and didn’t say a word.

  After scrubbing myself raw from head to toe with scalding hot water in the giant, claw-foot tub, I slip on the silk nightgown that Saskia laid out for me. There’s also a pitcher of cold water on the table, which I eagerly down in record time.

  Although it feels like I haven’t slept in ages, and my legs are so weak that I can barely stand upright, I don’t want to sleep. This isn’t my home. This isn’t my bed. And even though I was in this same exact predicament less than twenty-four hours ago, there is a particular wrongness about this room that won’t let me shut my eyes. And that feeling spikes in my blood when there is a knock at the door.

  “Who is it?” I demand.

  “Your evil fairy godmother.”

  I roll my eyes, but hurry to open the door to let Niko in. He leans against the frame, grinning in that sinister way that makes his pale blue eyes sparkle under the dim lighting. Yet, the contrived cruelty from earlier has been erased, and for that I’m grateful. It was all just an act, similar to the one I was to play. However, the lines of fantasy and reality were blurred the moment I let myself look at Lucifer and see something other than pure wickedness.

  “A warning would have been nice,” I say by way of greeting once he closes the door behind him. “Did you know? That he had brought those two here, and what he had planned to do to them?”

  He heaves a heavy breath before moving to the table to pour us drinks of amber liquor. “No. I didn’t. And even if I did, there is nothing I can say to prepare you for that degree of callousness.” He extends a glass to me but I decline with a shake of my head.

  “No, thank you.”

  “You sure? It’ll help you cope…help you forget. You don’t want that kinda shit settling on your brain, worming its way inside you like a parasite.” His eyes roam my body from head to toe before setting the offered glass down on the table. “Or maybe it already has.”

  I turn away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “No? That’s odd. Because it looked to me like you were eating up his heartfelt bullshit as if it were cotton candy. Eden, he is the master deceiver. And if you think you can experience what happened tonight, and walk away unscathed, you’re playing yourself. No one is that good an actor.”

  I turn to face him with a frown, folding my arms in front of my chest. “Really? Because you gave a pretty damn convincing performance yourself. Almost like it came second nature to you. And if he’s as dangerous as you say he is, why don’t you seem more cautious about being here and warning me? Who’s to say this room isn’t bugged? Or maybe you’re just setting me up?”

  “Because with the pathetic speck of magic I have left in me, I warded this room. Your words are safe in here.” He combs a hand through his slick black hair in aggravation, and shakes his head. “Look, Eden. I know that you’re struggling with trust, but we don’t have time to doubt each other right now. Believe it or not, I want to keep you safe. And to do that, I have to say and do things that I really fucking don’t want to. Understand me when I say this: I get why you would feel conflicted about what went down tonight. A lot of the shit he says makes sense—it does. But you have to remember what his main objective is. And to achieve that, he will push all your buttons just right, and manipulate your pain. He will use you. And once he’s done with you, he will discard you. He isn’t your friend. This isn’t Legion we’re talking about. He isn’t here to save you from yourself.”

  “Oh. And he didn’t use me and throw me away?” Maybe I do want that drink. I walk over and down it on one large gulp. My stomach screams in protest, but I don’t care.

  “Is that what you think? That he wanted this to happen?”

  “I don’t know what I think. But I know that Lucifer isn’t the only deceiver.” I turn my head to hide the hurt and rage blooming on my face. I can’t let him see just how much the mention of L’s name slices me open.

  I feel Niko draw closer to me, his scent of fresh ocean breeze washing over me. Gently, he cups my cheek and turns my face to look at him. Then…cringes.

  “Oh shit,” he frowns. “You’re not going to cry, are you?”

  I rip myself from his grasp, and stomp across the room, away from his condescending stare.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “You sure? You don’t look it.”

  “I said, I’m fine!”

  “Good. Because tears are like catnip here. Get pissed. Rage all you want, but don’t show vulnerability.” I hear him release a breath behind me. “Look, I get it. Your fragile, mortal heart is broken. But don’t let that shit kill you. Heartache is a paper cut compared to what kind of hell will be unleashed on Earth if you lose perspective. Sorry, but…you need to suck it up, buttercup.”

  “I’ll say it one more time: I’m. Fine. Now drop it,” I deadpan, extinguishing all emotion from my voice.

  “If you say so. But if you must cry, do it here. Don’t let them hear you. Don’t let them see you.”

  “Who’s them?” I question, shooting him a skeptical look. Nikolai lifts a finger to his lips, and points to the walls.

  “The walls, the paintings…live.”

  Live? As in…alive?


  What in the holy fuck?

  I knew I felt something when I stared at that Rembrandt painting, as if the colors pulsated with a dark force. And walking down the hall to the dining room… I felt them. Even though it was completely empty, I felt as if we were not only being watched, we were being picked apart, bit by bit, by beady little eyes that anticipated the slightest falter in my steps. Saskia was telling the truth.

  I knew why they were watching…waiting. The black current that trembled beneath the canvas belonged to the one that had brought me here. The one that wanted to rip me open and infect me with the same evil that breathed fire within these walls.

  “Crying is for those that feel pain. And I feel nothing.” I lift my chin, feeling sober. Nikolai is right. I need to suck it up, and remember why I’m here. “Now tell me everything I need to know. How do I fight him?”

  “Fight him? I just want you to survive him.”

  “Fuck surviving.”

  Nikolai lifts a brow. “You’re not ready for that.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I? Tell me.”

  “And what about Legion?”

  I bite down on the echo of pain that stirs in my chest, refusing to acknowledge it. “What about him?”

  “What if he comes for you? And you know he’ll try. Will you still be worthy of saving?”

  “I wasn’t worthy then. What makes you think I’ll ever be?”

  I watch intently as he considers my words for a beat. “You know, once some doors are opened, they can’t be closed. And when you allow yourself to be fully immersed in this underworld, there’s no turning back. Some darkness can’t be extinguished.”

  I close the distance between our tense frames, almost putting us chest to chest. “I’ve done nothing but struggle to survive my entire, miserable existence. Now I have nothing else to lose…nothing left to live for. So if this is how I go, so be it. Show me how to be like you—unflinching, uncaring. Teach me what I need to be so I can ruin that motherfucker and be done with him for good.”

  He nods once, then walks over to refill our glasses. “Yeah, I see why Gabriella likes you,” he remarks, a smile on his lips.

  “Why do you say that?” I take the tumbler from his outstretched hand and take a sip.

  “You’re a vicious little creature. Just like her.”

  We spend the better part of three hours and a fifth of scotch sitting cross-legged on my giant bed, as Nikolai downloads every ounce of information he’s gathered during his stay in Hell. I mute my gasps and hide my cringes while he describes Lucifer’s ideas of nightly entertainment. Considering what went down at dinner, I shouldn’t be surprised. But his tastes go much farther and darker than rape. Bestiality. Mutilation. And, of course, flat-out murder. And every time, Nikolai donned that sinister grin and played along to placate Lucifer’s sadistic quest for admiration.

  “So what…you two have some kinda psycho bromance going on? Why has he let you in?”

  Niko shrugs. “I guess he sees something in me that reminds him of what he had with the brother he lost… Legion. They were close, you know. Closer than anyone he’s ever known. They ruled the underworld together. Plus, I’m a good fucking time. Who wouldn’t want to keep me around?”

  I roll my eyes at that last part, and zero in on the facts. “And L left him. He traded evil for good.” I take a sip to scorch that single letter from my tongue.

  “It drove Lucifer mad. He’s like a little boy—still searching for acceptance. The guy has some serious abandonment issues. And since I am not bound to any place, I seem like a safe bet. A distraction without the risk of being left again.”

  “Wait…what do you mean you’re not bound to any place?”

  Niko sucks in a breath, and I watch as his eyes dim with sorrow. “I am not in Hell or Heaven. I am somewhere in between, unable to move on. I am tethered by two sides—good and evil—that are each a permanent part of me.”

  My gaze grows wide as the meaning within his words sink in. “You’re in limbo.”

  He nods. “And while that may sound like a cool set up, it’s not. I’d rather burn here for eternity than feel so…lost.”

  I sit up on my knees, eager to hear more. “Why can’t you move on?”

  Nikolai lifts his face so I can see the unabashed emotion painted so painfully across his alabaster skin. “I died giving my life for Gabriella’s at the hands of my father, Stavros. But before she struck him down in retaliation, he was able to tie his life to mine, as if he knew Dorian would do anything in his power to bring me back. So by doing that, he ensured that new life would be possible for him too.”

  “Your own father killed you?” My voice is merely a broken whisper.

  “On Dorian and Gabriella’s wedding day, just after he killed my mother. And you thought your family put the fun in dysfunctional.” He laughs darkly, but no humor reaches his eyes. “Stavros rules the Eighth Realm—the one reserved for those created of dark magic. If I am released from my purgatory, I will be banished there.”

  “The Eighth Realm? So wait…there’s more to this than…this?” I ask, waving a hand around the room. I should have already known. This isn’t Hell. It’s merely a holding cell.

  Niko shakes his head. “Far from it. There is a realm for every creature of evil and deviance, humans included. My father was once the most powerful warlock in the world. Lucifer lets him have his fun in exchange for his fealty.”

  “But you aren’t a creature of evil and deviance, right? Which is why you’re in limbo.” I feel like I’m asking too many questions, but I don’t get it. After all he’s told me…after all he’s doing to try to help me…how could he be deserving of such a bleak fate? To live in agony under the rule of the man who killed him?

  “I’m in limbo because of one reason and one reason only. The very thing I gave my life for. Love.”

  His throat bobs as he swallows before looking up at me, his ice blue gaze filled with something I can’t quite describe. Wonder. Nostalgia. The emotion in his eyes is so intense that I can feel its energy surge over me, causing me to draw closer to its palpable warmth.

  “Once upon a time, I was a different man. Someone brash and ruthless… I was a monster. But I met someone that saved me from the bleakness of my soul, and forced me to open my heart. She was good, she was whole. She was daytime in my world of perpetual night. She saved me…and I lost her.”

  “She died?” I hate to even ask it.

  He nods. “She traded her life for mine, so I could do the same many years later.”

  Understanding washes over me. “For Gabriella.”

  Another nod. “It was always her destiny—our destiny. Everything happens for a reason. Why you were chosen by the angel Adriel…why the Se7en took you in…it’s all connected to something much bigger.”

  “And what’s that?”

  A soft line forms between his brows. “I don’t know. Not yet. But whatever it is, you have to believe it was all predestined for the greater good. Something beyond you or me, or even Heaven or Hell.”

  I search for the right words to fill the strained silence, but nothing I could say would be enough. He’s experienced so much loss—so much pain—yet here he is, telling me not to give up. Offering a lifeline of hope when all I want to do is drown in my misery. Although, the very moment I took Lucifer’s hand in that cold, damp basement, I thought I had. I wanted it all to end. And I would have allowed the rage and despair to take me under like crushing waves if I hadn’t met him. I would have resigned to the fate Lucifer had constructed for me. Maybe I would have even succumbed to his advances, seduced by the promise of cold detachment.

  Exhaustion and one too many drinks sit like two-ton anvils on my eyelids, and I don’t even realize I’ve drifted off until I feel the soft warmth of a blanket being laid over me, and cool lips pressed to my forehead. I don’t even have enough strength to whisper goodnight. But when I’m jostled awake from a dead sleep minutes, maybe hours later, I find that Nikolai is gone.

 
The room is silent and deadly still.

  But I’m not alone.

  It only takes a split second to blink the sleep from my eyes and replace it with ice-cold panic. I jolt upright and prepare to spring from the bed, but before I can, a warm, almost gentle hand grips my elbow.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you. Can we talk?”

  I force my gaze to his, meeting those shimmering purple and azure irises with fearful contempt. “What do you want?” I spit, my voice laced with sleep and distrust.

  “Just to talk, if that’s ok.” Lucifer raises his palms in acquiesce. “You were asleep, and I found myself oddly fascinated by that quiet peacefulness. What’s it like?” He settles onto the bed without invitation, propping his expensive, leather loafers onto the cream duvet.

  I can play this two ways. I can go with my first instinct—run, hide, spew empty threats that will only intensify this game of cat and mouse. Or I can stick with Niko’s advice: play along. Lucifer is a true narcissist. He needs to believe that it’s all about him. My fear, my hatred, my lust…he wants to rule them all. He wants to pull my threadbare strings and watch me unravel right before him.

  “What’s what like?” I ask, schooling the fright from my face.

  “Sleeping,” Lucifer replies. Eyes squinting, he tilts his head to one side as if he’s studying a rare, fascinating creature. “Dreaming.”

  I shift uncomfortably under his speculative stare. “You don’t know?”

  “No. It’s a human function. I have no use for it.”

  I frown. Legion slept. The memory of my cheek pressed to his bare chest as his heart hummed me a lullaby still lingers in the dusty corners of my mind. He looked so peaceful—so human—in slumber. I wanted to exist in that space with him forever. And to think that it may have been a farce, quite frankly, stings. He is more like Lucifer than I want to believe. In all honesty, they are exactly the same.

  “So…none of you sleep? Ever?”

  His gaze travels over the questioning lines carved into my face. “Not here. On Earth, we are subjected to a type of vulnerability that closely resembles mortality. We require sustenance, rest. We become susceptible to injury and, in some cases, sickness. Although we are a great deal stronger and more resistant to those irritations, I choose not to leave it to chance.”