Greed's Charity (Seven Deadly Sins Book 1)

by R. A. Pollard

  Isabelle couldn’t believe she had managed to bring the angel down. He had seemed as surprised as she was. It was something she was going to have to focus on perfecting. If she could help in any way, she would learn, no matter the cost.

  As she sat there, pressure began to tingle over her skin. She opened her eyes and glanced around the room. It didn’t feel like the same sick energy the angel gave off. This was something else. Panic, worry. Her demon! A smile spread on her face as heat blasted through the room.

  “Isabelle!” His voice, rough and strained, roared her name.

  “I’m here, Mammon.” She moved from behind the couch, beholding her male in full demon form for the first time. The shock, however, was soon overridden by the desire that slammed through her. He was safe, alive, and here.

  Mammon turned at the sound of her voice. He was beside her in a second, lifting her into his arms. Desperation filled them both. She showered tear-filled kisses over his face, and he sunk his taloned fingers into her hair.

  She sobbed softly as the stress finally caught up with her. The weight of what had just happened hit her like a train. It didn’t matter to her one iota that he was the color of emeralds, or his hair was longer, or that he had sprouted wings on his back. None of it mattered. He was here, in her embrace, and he was alive. She clung to him for dear life, breathing in his spicy scent, her body breaking into tremors of shock and tears of joy.

  Seeing her crawl out from behind the couch, covered in blood, had his heart ripping in two. Mammon held her, willing his body to revert to his human form. His scarred skin protested the change. Claws vanished back into fingers, wings reverted to shoulders. Slowly the demon melted away, leaving him naked. Isabelle buried her face against his throat as his eyes scanned the bloody mess throughout the apartment. They stopped on his brother. He shuddered at the carnage, then held Isabelle at arms’ length so he could peer into her face.

  Covering her mouth with his, he kissed the life from her, sweeping his tongue between her lips, demanding entrance, claiming her mouth for his own. Just one desperate kiss had her shaking in his arms for a very different reason.

  He wanted to carry her from the room and lay her down so he could savor every hollow and curve of her sweet body. To check for himself she was unharmed, and to ensure no harm would ever come to her again. Right now, though, there were more important things to worry about, even if half his blood agreed with his first instinct and was now rushing to his groin.

  He brushed his fingertips over a graze on her cheek, gritting his teeth. He would kill the Malakhim for marking her. When he found out which one of those bastards had harmed her and his brother, he would make him pay.

  “Apollo is on his way back. He sent the angel packing.” Her voice was soft as she spoke. That wasn’t the whole story. The fact she wouldn’t meet his eyes when she spoke attested to that. He would find out later. Best pick his battles for now.

  Mammon felt like a stone was lodged in his stomach. He hadn’t been here to protect her. Blood covered the floor in sticky, drying puddles, black and red mixed together. The smears and remnants of footprints gave the appearance of some macabre Jackson Pollock painting.

  The fucking Malakhim had come. Not only had they gotten the jar, but they had just pissed on the front step of the demons. Lucifer was going to be flaming mad when he got back. Mammon knelt and lifted Asmodeus from the floor. A groan left his brother’s lips. To remain in solid form, he would have to feed a whole hell of a lot to make up for expending so much energy.

  He carefully placed Asmodeus on the couch, Isabelle sinking down beside him. He then retrieved Cercyn. His hellhound form was weak. Hell, it was probably the only thing keeping him alive right now. Mammon deposited him on the rug, then wrapped Isabelle in his arms once more. She was here. She was alive. He kept telling himself over and over. Burying his face in her hair, the demon closed his eyes and breathed her in.

  “I should have been here.” He blew puffs of air against Isabelle’s skin. A sound from behind had him on alert instantly.

  “Your female sent that angel scurrying right back to Michael with his tail between his legs. One wing half torn off, and a stab wound to his thigh. With I think a lifetime of nightmares about a female who ravaged his mind. I have no doubt the Malakhim will think twice before coming after her again. If the other Seers are anywhere near as strong as she is, then Michael is in for the surprise of his life.”

  Mammon growled and Isabelle just smiled, covering his mouth with a kiss before he could growl at her even more. With a grunt of acceptance, he returned her kiss. He hated the idea of her having to fight for him, or any of them. But this was her fate, all their fates. They would just have to get used to it and grow from it.

  “Did you get those barriers up?” Mammon turned his green gaze to the god, who saluted him with a smile.

  “All done. They won’t be able to get through them, at least for now. I have no doubt Michael won’t stop until he has what he wants. And I take it from your bloody appearance the fight in Tartarus did not go well?”

  “Michael has the jar.” He felt Isabelle’s arms tighten around him. “It could have been worse. Hades is badly injured. Lucifer is tending the others. Michael stopped as soon as he had the cursed jar. Killing us wasn’t his goal.”

  “With Hades down, the demons are going to run riot. How was he injured?” The dark frown on Apollo’s face worried Mammon. The god was right. If Hades died it would mean the Underworld would go down with him, and that couldn’t happen. The world hung in a delicate balance of souls passing and returning, and Hades managed it all. In truth, he was the most crucial of all the gods. Not only that, but he held the darkest deepest cells of Tartarus in control—where the Titans resided. If Hades died, the walls would fall and the Titans would be released. It would be hell on earth.

  “Angelic blade. I know how nasty they can be when you’re simply cut by one, let alone run through.”

  “No doubt his god blood saved him from instant death. That is a grace at least.” Apollo let out a shaky breath. The look on his face didn’t bolster Mammon’s confidence any.

  He released Isabelle and held out his hand to the sun-kissed god. “Thank you for protecting Isabelle when I couldn’t.”

  Apollo took his hand and smiled. “I am telling you demon, you have a firecracker there. She had him terrified before I even showed up. Now I’m going to return to my waiting lady friends. I’ve been gone far too long. Can’t have them finding other ways to amuse themselves.” He turned to Isabelle, gave her a small bow and then vanished with a wink.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Isabelle couldn’t believe it had been a week since the fight in Tartarus, since the Malakhim tried to take her from Mammon and make her the key to humanity's destruction. The week had been a rush of changing bandages and dealing with Ze, who didn’t want to remain in bed. Three hellhounds continued to follow her around the apartment as she helped Lucifer tend to his brothers’ injuries, while trying to get a lead on what happened to Wrath.

  No one had seen or heard a thing since the fight. All they knew was the cryptic message Michael had voiced before he walked away with Pandora’s Box. Something told her finding him was going to be difficult, more so due to the terrible fact, Hades was dying.

  Isabelle leaned against the door frame of Hades’ bedroom. The god lay in a huge bed, the covers drawn up around his form. Already she could see the strain the wound was taking on him. His black hair had streaks of grey, and his skin was just a touch paler than it had been. Beside him sat Persephone. The poor woman had barely left his side since the battle. The god had been in and out of a coma since the attack. Apollo came and went over and over, trying new things. Sometimes Hades regained his color, but most of the time he held his wife's hand and slept.

  Mammon walked up beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned against him, knowing it was time to go. She felt like she should stay here with Persephone, but she needed time to prepare hersel
f. If what Apollo said about the wound was true, then it was only a matter of time before the Lord of the Underworld passed into darkness for the last time.

  Bless the little goddess, she was trying so hard to keep herself positive. Isabelle had caught her crying earlier that evening. She said she could feel Hades slipping from her, and it terrified her. Isabelle felt for the woman, not only because of who she was to her demon, but also because she knew if she ever lost Mammon, she would feel the same way. Devastated.

  Mammon leaned down to her, whispering softly that it was time to go. She nodded, leaving the goddess and her husband behind in silence. Apollo had formed what he called a portal. What Isabelle not so lovingly referred to as “The Gateway to Hell” from the apartment to the house in Alaska. Given the demons travelling back and forth, it made more sense having a link between the two locations.

  Mammon kept hold of her hand as they approached the shimming patch of air before her. This means of travel always turned her stomach. He chuckled softly and wrapped her in his arms as they stepped through. It was only a second of disorientation and heat rushing over her skin, but she still felt like she had been tossed upside down and shaken like a rag doll.

  They appeared in the living room of the apartment and Isabelle shook herself all over. Lucifer was leaving the bedroom where Abbadon, one of the hardest hit of the brothers lay half in and out of conciseness. His body was still expelling small shards of rock a week later.

  Abbadon shared the room with Belor. His face was slow to heal, even with a demon’s fast healing ability. He had been beaten to within an inch of his life by one of the angels. Mammon and Lucifer spent pretty much every waking hour either with Hades or with their brothers. The pair had become the primary driving force of the Sins. Right now, finding some leads on Tanus was their main concern.

  Isabelle felt quite useless in all this, so she did what she could. She dressed wounds, made dinner, and helped those who were too weak to fend for themselves. In Abbadon’s case, she was sure he was faking half the time so she would continue to hand feed him.

  She felt far worse for Asmodeus. Not long after the night of the battle, he had lost the hold on his physical form. Since then, he had been out almost every night “hunting.” He sheepishly admitted later no one else knew of his lack of sexual appetite but her. As far as his brothers knew, he was as much a sexual deviant today as he had been a thousand years ago. It pained her to see him come in every night with a new form, yet the same haunted look in his eyes. She ached for him, but had promised not to tell anyone, not even Mammon. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this a secret from him, however.

  The three hellhounds had been attached to her side since Cercyn woke up two days before. His brothers were immensely happy to see him. All three demons, with their white hair and unique eyes, literally took up a room with their presence. It only required a few words from him, and she had two demons kneeling before her, pledging their lives to her protection. If she didn’t have all three with her, at least one was in the same room as she. Mammon had finally had enough and kicked them out of the apartment the third time they had manifested inside, claiming he could protect his own female and to go hump a leg somewhere.

  There had been no news on the Malakhim since they had taken the jar. Apollo swore his barriers would hold, and they wouldn’t be able to get to her as long as she remained in the building or at Hades’ home. Truth be told, she felt like a prisoner, even if she was a very happy, sexually satisfied prisoner.

  Mammon did his best to distract her during their nights, taking her to new levels of passion. Just when she thought he couldn’t make her toes curl any more tightly, he did amazing things with his tongue. Then she found herself falling for him all over again.

  Between sleep deprivation, due to sex, and keeping the healing demons from ripping into one another, she was happy. Then she remembered she couldn’t leave the building alone, the thought always managed to pull her head from the clouds and back to reality.

  Lying beside Mammon, his body still hard and deep inside her, she couldn’t think of a better place to be. He panted against her throat, his heartbeat hammering in his chest and sweat-slicked hair sticking to his forehead. Smiling, she stroked a hand down his back, his whole-body trembling at her touch. Gods she loved him, loved that he was trying to keep her mind off the fact she was a virtual prisoner.

  Mammon went still as he felt her withdraw a little from him. Damn the fucking Malakhim. If they could just find a way to allow her freedom, then she might lose the shadow to her eyes whenever she looked out a window. He could only distract her with mind-blowing orgasms for so long, even if he was having immense fun doing it.

  The soft pink tint of sex colored her cheeks. He had been trying to pluck up the courage for the last week to tell her how he really felt. But every time he attempted to speak, something else would come up or he would chicken out. He watched the frown develop on her forehead, and the words became jumbled in his brain again. Screw this lovey dovey shit, he was just going to come out and say it. It didn’t matter he had told her once before. It seemed each time he said it, his world came to a crashing halt and his heart ached as he waited for her reaction, even though he knew what it would be.

  “You—I mean I—yes, I…” Isabelle began to giggle, and he let out a low growl, scowling at her.

  Here he was trying to be all heartfelt and sincere and shit, and she was laughing at him! He took her hands and pinned them over her head. It didn’t stop her giggling. He could feel her core pulsing around his length as she laughed, drawing a groan from him. All it did was arouse him even more. Leaning down, he nipped at her neck and brushed his nose across her throat, pausing with his lips beside her ear.

  “Evil Minx.” He kept his voice subdued then, pulling his hips back, he thrust hard into her body. She gasped suddenly, arching under him. A reward of slick heat surged around his cock. He punctuated each word with a hard thrust, drawing a moan of ecstasy from her lips each time.

  “I’m. Trying. To. Be. Romantic. Here. Fuck, woman. You’re so tight, it’s killing me.” He gritted his teeth against the rush of fire along his spine. He was trying to punish her for giggling at his attempts to say ‘I love you’, yet it had turned into a surge of heat and need. Damn little Minx, she was enjoying teasing him today.

  The smile on her lips was pure sin as she spoke. “I will get you a book on romance, and you can try again,” she gasped. “It will have pictures and everything!”

  He growled beside her ear, driving harder into her body, keeping her hands pinned above her. He knew she was still sensitive from earlier, his hard thrusts just stoked that smoldering fire into an inferno. Mammon had the angle just right, the head of his cock bumping against her womb, making her core pulse around him. Her cries of abandon filled the room.

  Mammon was starting to think of other ways he could keep that smart mouth of hers occupied. The image of her taking his cock between those sassy lips undid him, and his balls drew tight. He tried to slow it down, make it last, but her body clamped and pulsed, tightening like a fist around him. Lightning rushed down his spine to his balls, and he spilled hard inside her, thrusting through it and wondering how he had become so lucky to find this woman. He buried his throbbing cock to the hilt, releasing his seed deep inside her.

  Spent, he dropped his head to the pillow beside her, panting hard. “God damn it. I love you.”

  “Can you please do that every time you tell me you love me?” Her smug little voice drew a weak laugh from him. This woman had sunk into his very soul. She was literally the spark in his heart.

  Taking his weight from her body, he leaned down and covered her lips with his in a lazy kiss. Their tongues caressed one another, delving deep, until she released a soft little moan. Mammon sat back with a satisfied smile, rolling from her body and pulling her into his arms.

  Isabelle settled beside him and ran her fingertips over the soft pale scars covering his chest. She couldn’t get the stupid smi
le from her lips. Lifting her head, she could see his eyes on the window. They had yet to get any blinds or coverings, but being forty floors up, it was hardly a necessity. He did this often, his mind taken up with the past. She pressed her lips to his cheek, and he turned his head to her.

  “Penny for them?” she murmured.

  “Are you happy? I know you are, with me. But I mean here? I feel as if I have robbed you of your life outside these walls. You had plans…your friend, Natalie.” She silenced him with a kiss.

  “I spoke to her yesterday. She is oblivious to everything that happened, other than a hole in the dorm room window. Abaddon did a good job planting the fake memories.” Sitting up, she gathered the covers around her body and looked back at him. “She can never know any of it. I will speak to my instructors. Maybe I can finish with an extension. But I can’t go back. I won’t put her or other people at risk because of me.”

  Mammon rubbed her bare back gently. She knew he would spend every waking hour making sure she wanted for nothing.

  Today she was going to find the other Seers. She was under no delusions. She knew the Malakhim would also be looking, so she needed to find them first. With no knowledge of the battle they were fated to face, they could be killed or worse—they could inadvertently help the Malakhim do the exact thing they were all trying to prevent. She needed to find these other women. They needed to know they were not alone in this.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Isabelle sat in the middle of the living room floor or ‘war-room’ as it was now being called. Around her were six demons and three hellhounds.

  Apollo moved to kneel before her, his bright blue eyes a little worried. “You ready? I won’t lie to you, Isabelle. This will hurt.”

  The low growl from her male filled the room. She ignored him, nodding. Turning her gaze to Mammon, she reached for him. He was beside her in a second, taking her hand and gripping it tightly.