I stared down at Lillith, the weapon in my hands growing heavier with every passing second. Do it, my mind screamed at me. You've wanted this for ages. She hurt you, she hunted you. She killed Paul and stole his soul. Lop off her head and wash your face in her blood as it spurts from her neck.
Around the hilt, my knuckles whitened as I squeezed my hands, tested the blade's weight.
And what happens then? In my mind, Peaches clucked her tongue. She's still King Asmodai's pet. You really want him to come after you, drag you all the way to the Court in Abaddon, throw you at the King of Hell's feet?
You really want Him to judge you again?
Peaches gave way to His voice, mocking, derisive: You are too soft.
No. Never that. Never again.
I removed the sword from her beneath jaw but kept it pointed at her breast, using both my hands to hold the blade steady. Fucking thing weighed a ton. "You know, I finally figured something out."
Lillith glared at me, her eyes sparking like obsidian chips, her nostrils flaring.
"You don't hate me because you think I was one of King Lucifer's favored. You don't even hate me because I embarrassed your new liege lord." Smiling coldly, I wiped the sword on her bare shoulder, smearing her blood on her bronze skin and relishing the look of hatred on her proud face. "You hate the fact that I defied Him, and you couldn't."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," she growled.
"The best you can ever hope for is to be His lapdog. He may pat you on the head, He may kick you in the corner. He may even fuck you. But you'll never be anything more than that." I sniffed, showing her just what I thought of her place in the new regime. "Just a lapdog, yapping at His feet."
"Big words for a mortal. A dead mortal." She lifted her chin, as if daring me to strike. "I think you don't have it in you to kill me. I think your soul has softened you even more than He said at the Announcement."
My lip curled in a sneer. Look at her, kneeling on the dirt floor. This is all she ever will be: a blowjob waiting to happen, a cocktease of power. Kill her.
But she looks so pathetic, with the grime on her knees and a pout on those sullen, swollen lips. Sweat beaded on my brow, began to drip down my temples.
Kill her!
In my hands, the sword wavered.
"Come on, Jezebel," Lillith purred. "I'm helpless before you. Do you need me to make it easier? Here." She tilted her head to the side. "Go ahead. What are you waiting for?"
Gritting my teeth, I stared at her exposed neck. Do it.
Don't do it, Peaches said. Do you really want to damn yourself for her? Is she really worth your soul?
Lillith grinned. "I knew it." She raised her arms—
—and in my mind, I felt Daun reach out—
My arms drew back with a jerk, and I grunted as my hands swung forward, the sword blazing a path to Lillith's neck. I couldn't stop the movement, even if I really wanted to; Daun was in my mind, riding me, pushing my body to obey his silent command.
Lillith vanished in a puff of sulfur. A second later, the blade whistled past the space where her neck had been.
"Jezzie," Daun said after the smoke dissipated, "what the fuck just happened? Why didn't you slice her open, spill her insides all over the ground?"
"I couldn't." I dropped the sword, and it fell to the floor with an impotent clang. Groaning from embarrassment, I covered my face. "I just couldn't kill her."
"Why in Hell not?"
"I pitied her," I said, my voice muffled by my hands.
"What?"
Through my fingers I shouted, "I pitied her. Bless me, I'm such a lousy former malefic entity!"
A pause, and then I felt his hands press down on my shoulders. "Babes," Daun sighed, "this was a really, really bad time to go New Testament on me."
PART THREE
PAUL AND THE KING OF HELL
Chapter 16
Hell
"Well," Daun said, "that's that."
I lowered my hands to stare into his eyes, which were sparkling with mischief and wicked intent. There'd been a time when I relished that look. But now all it did was cause a knot to form in my stomach. "What's what?"
"If the bitch was actually telling the truth and your meat pie's in the Caverns, that's all she wrote. You can't go in there. And he can't get out." He shrugged, a lazy movement of his shoulders that belied the intense look in his eyes. "No rescue mission."
"Bullshit on that." I jabbed a finger at his chest, where it slid on sweat and dirt. "I'm getting him out."
"Oh really?" Daun arched an eyebrow. "How're you planning on doing that?"
"I'm going to march in there and get him." I waggled my wrist under his nose, showing the golden bracelet. "A Wiccan practically forced this little trinket on me. It's called the Rope of…" I paused, not wanting to call the Hecate's attention onto me. I didn't get to be more than four thousand years old by being completely stupid. "Of the patron of witchcraft. I figure She did it for a reason."
He frowned. "Witches suck."
"Yeah," I said, thinking of Caitlin and her secrets, Caitlin and her taunting hints of knowledge. The Hecate knows much.
"And some of them have no fashion sense. But they do know their shit when it comes to magic and their patron goddess. She must have wanted me to have it."
"What, you think the witch knew you'd want to pull an Orpheus?"
"Nothing about witches surprises me anymore."
"Fair enough."
"So I'll go into the Caverns, find Paul, give him the bracelet, and then he'll return Above." Saying it like that made it seem so simple. So what that I was overlooking the fact that I could wander about the Caverns for the better part of a millennium and never retrace my steps, let alone find Paul? Minor details.
They say the devil's in the details.
Shut up, Peaches.
"As much as I don't mind you being trapped in a different plane than your flesh puppet," Daun said, "there's a flaw in your plan."
Only one? Maybe my plan made more sense than I thought. "How's that?"
"You haven't said how you're getting out of the Caverns once you go in."
Oops. "Yeah, well, I'm working on that part."
"You take your time," he said. "You're not going to the Caverns any time soon."
"Pardon me?"
Daun grinned, licking his lips slowly, and my sex tingled in response. Stop that, body. "You and me, babes, we have a lot of catching up to do. We've got the entire District to paint red. And that's just the start."
He took my hand, rubbed his thumb over my palm. Goose-bumps tripped up my arm.
Yo, body, I said stop that.
Drawing circles over my wrist, just above where the Rope of Hecate lay, Daun chuckled. "There's going to be a whole lot of loving going on. We're going to desecrate every level of Hell, right up to the Court itself."
"Loving later," I said, trying to pull my hand out of his grasp and failing miserably. Fine, he could hold my hand and write invisible tantric messages on my skin. No problem. "First rescuing. Specifically, first rescuing Paul, then Meg."
"Right." His heated gaze roamed over my body, leaving scorch marks in its wake. "As if I'm going to let you do that."
My throat constricted; if I were still breathing, I would have choked. "Excuse me?"
"You're mine, Jezzie." With his other hand, he traced the curves of my face, then let his touch drift down my neck and chest, stopping to caress my breast. I stifled a moan, pretended not to notice my nipple springing to attention. Fondling me, Daun said, "If you think I'm going to let you go, you're even crazier than the angel thought."
"You promised," I said through clenched teeth, absolutely not paying attention to how my groin was starting to pulse with need. "You swore on your name to let me go."
He slid his fingers over my chest, ran around my other boob in concentric circles until he was teasing my nipple. I bit my lip to keep my reaction in check. With a grin that would have scarred small children,
Daun said, "You're right. But I never said I'd let you go right away."
Oh crap.
"Now," he said, his voice an eager hum, "let's get busy."
"Daun—"
But he was already at my breast, sucking my nipple, working my tit until all I could do was gasp. His hands flowed over me like water, raining pleasure after pleasure on my flesh as they washed over my skin. When his fingers drummed between my legs, I somehow regained enough sense to tangle him up in my arms and push him back. "Daun, stop."
Something dark flashed in his eyes. "You don't get to tell me to stop."
Oh. Oh boy, that's not good. "Sweetie—"
"Shut up, Jezzie."
My mouth clicked closed. No matter how I tried, I couldn't pry open my lips. I felt Daun in my mind, sliding around my thoughts, commanding my body to betray me. I slapped at that presence, tried to push it away, but the soul bond was too strong to fight and impossible to ignore; it spoke a language that my body had to obey.
Fighting back panic, I took a step away from him, imploring Daun with my eyes and hands to let me go.
He said, "Stop."
My hooves rooted to the ground, refused to move.
"Stand still, Jezzie."
My hands dropped to my sides. I stood like a life-sized doll for she-devils, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would break through my ribcage.
He lifted my chin in his hand, stared deep into my eyes; all I saw in his was my own wide-eyed reflection. "I could force myself on you. I could command you to be my slave, to beg for me to touch you. I could tell you to gouge out your eyeballs and eat them. And you'd have to do everything I say. You know this, don't you?"
I did. Oh bless me, I did.
A whimsical smile played on his lips. "I could command you to forget about your meat pie."
No. Please no.
I closed my eyes, wondering if the bond was strictly physical, or if it meant that Daun could erase my mind, make me think whatever he told me to think. I didn't want to find out the hard way.
Paul, I swear, no matter what, I'm coming for you.
He can't make me forget you.
"But what I said Above still stands." Daun's hand left my chin, trailed down my jaw and neck, traced a line over my shoulder. "I'm not into power games."
Could have fooled me, you Evil fuck.
Now he was behind me, both his hands on my shoulders, pressing, rubbing, working their own sort of magic: Even though I was paralyzed by his command and by my own growing fear, my body was reacting to his touch. Warmth spread over my shoulders and neck, stretched down my back and across my breasts, licked its way down my belly and hips.
"You like this," he said—either a comment or a command, it didn't matter. Because I liked it.
Oh, sweet Sin, I liked it.
His hands moved deftly over me, and my hips begged to dance against his, to buck with every rolling press of his fingers. But no—he'd told me to stand still, so I couldn't move, not even to give in to the feeling building inside of me, churning through me as my groin tightened and bless me, now his hands were on my breasts, squeezing me, plucking me, tracing every curve, every oh he's reaching down, down over my belly, my mound, my oh my oh he's in me and in me and let me move let me move let me…
Air, hot and moist, tickling my earlobe as he whispered: "Yes, you like this, you want this more than anything. I can tell. I bet I can taste it."
His fingers slid out of me, and my body wailed for him to dive back in, the water was fine. If he sensed my ache, he ignored it. That rat bastard. I stood, waiting on his pleasure, almost vibrating from how he'd wound me up. He made an ummmm sound, then ran his wet fingers over my mouth. As he rubbed my lips, I caught the scent of my own juices, tart and pungent. My body screamed sex now, and if I hadn't been forced into being a living (well, dead) statue, I would have thrown myself on him and ridden him like a bronco.
I knew that I had to leave, to rescue Paul, to help Meg, but all I could think about was how I liked Daun's touch. How I wanted him, more than anything.
"You do still taste like a succubus, you know," Daun said, kissing my neck.
Oh, sweetie, let me fuck you, and I'll show you that I can still move like a succubus…
"I've missed you, Jezzie. I missed all the sweaty sex. There's no one in Hell like you. When she told me to tempt you back to Hell, how could I say no?" His mouth on mine, surprisingly gentle. Then he said, "Open your eyes, babes."
I did. His amber gaze locked on mine, hidden thoughts flashing behind his pupils. I wanted him now, right now. Just say the word, sweetie, and I'll pour myself over you, I'll swallow you down, I'll make you explode inside of me…
"If I gave you the choice, right now," he said, "would you stay with me? Answer me true."
My mouth opened, and I said, "No."
Argh! No! Wrong answer! Say you want to be with him always, you want to fuck him until the end of Creation!
But Daun had commanded me to answer true, so I had. Because as much as I wanted him in me, my heart (stupid dumb asinine human heart) had been stolen by another.
Daun's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"
The frost in his voice dampened the desire blazing through me, and with a gasp I felt my body's On switch get flipped to Off. I didn't know if Daun purposefully rescinded his command to want him, or if it was an accidental side effect of his anger. I didn't care; for the moment, I could think, even if I still couldn't move. "I have to bring Paul back. I can't leave him trapped in the Caverns."
He tilted his head, considering me. "Maybe I'd let you visit him in a couple centuries. He's not going anywhere."
"He's not supposed to be here at all," I countered. "Even the angel said that. His soul's clean."
"So's yours. Yet here you are."
"I'm here for him. I'm going to free him. I have to."
Rage stormed in his eyes, rippled over his face as he sneered. "Why? Because you love him?"
"Yes."
"What's love, anyway? It's just a fleeting, fickle thing. And it fucks you more than any dick out there ever could."
"Daun." I wanted to plead with my hands, but he hadn't given me permission to move other than to speak, so all I could do was beg with my voice. "I really love him. I didn't ask to. It just happened. And I can't just tuck it into a jar and put it on a shelf. Please try to understand. He's my everything."
My words hung in the air between us. He looked at me, his gaze heavy on my body, judgment waiting in his eyes. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't command you to forget love." he said, "to forget your man. One reason why I shouldn't command you to stay with me."
Staring at the incubus who had been my friend for thousands of years, who had helped me more than once and saved me from human horrors, I held my head high and answered him truthfully. "Because the only way for you to have me like that is for you to force me to stay, to use the power of the soul bond to make me forget him. And you said yourself, you're not into power games."
A pause that stretched into forever as he considered my reply, and then: "You're right, babes. I did say that." An ugly smile stretched across his face. "But demons lie."
Shit.
"I do so love that look you get when you think the world is ending. It's positively addictive." His eyes gleamed, glowed, and a wicked grin ate his face. My legs tried to move, to get me away, but all I could do was stand and watch as he spread his arms wide. "I don't need to play those games, Jezzie. Because I have power. Far more than you know."
A humming, deep, like the slow waking of hornets in winter. Then a ripping sound, followed by the crack of bones. Something rose behind Daun, unfolding, growing up and out, until he was surrounded in shadow. It split in two, stretched out behind him, huge, batlike, as blue as his flesh.
Wings.
I stared at those blue appendages, a tiny voice in my mind gibbering that this was impossible—Daun wasn't strong enough to have wings. Gods wore them like otherworldly accessories; angels sported them as a given.
But for demons to have wings, they had to amass an incredible amount of power. Only the elite and the greatest rank of lesser demons could fly. Daun was—had been—a second-level Seducer. What was he now?
Pit swallow me, how strong was he?
He said, "It's the new me."
"You wear it well," I replied, my voice a smothered scream. "Looks like I missed a lot in the month I was gone."
"You have no idea." He clamped his hands onto my shoulders, dug in tight. "But you will. Come on, babes. Time for the grand tour."
A slap of brimstone, and then the underworld shifted.
One thing about materializing in midair: it really fucks with your equilibrium.
My hooves dangled in the air, the hot winds over the Lake of Fire brushing against my most sensitive spots and searing my nostrils. For a split second, I felt Daun behind me, his hands hooked into my armpits and his cock pressed against my lower back. I had time to very distinctly think: Oh shit.
And then we fell.
Aaaaaaaaaah!
Before I could muster a proper gut-busting scream, Daun stopped our plummet, beating his wings against the stagnant air with powerful strokes, almost as if he were swimming. We hovered over the fulminating Lake, its orange-red surface dotted with specks of blue flame. From this height, a glassy sheen covered the fiery liquid like a birth cowl: strands of molten lava, caught in the Lake's updraft, quickly cooled to form delicate filaments, easily broken. Pretty, in a third-degree-burn sort of way.
Look at that. We weren't going to cannonball into the Lake of Fire after all. If I had still possessed all the standard human bodily functions, I would have shat myself.
Daun seemed to be enjoying the situation immensely. With every downward thrust of his leathery wings, he bucked his hips against my back. Hello, erection jamming into my spine. Normally, I'd be jockeying for a better position, but at the moment, suspended over the Lake of Fire, the last thing on my mind was sex.
Mental note: Avoid the Mile High Club.
If not for Daun's earlier command to stand still, I'd be scrabbling up his back right now and holding on for dear afterlife. I had this thing about flying: I hated it. Based on how my stomach was lurching, it hated me right back. And there was nothing I could do about it; I was literally Daun's prisoner.
The Road to Hell Page 17
