Infernal God (Claimed By Lucifer Book 3)

by Elizabeth Briggs

  Mirabella dropped to a deep curtsy before me. "My queen, I'll be opening the portal to Faerie."

  "Thank you," I told her. "Can you do it from here?"

  She straightened up and nodded. "Time and space are different in that realm, so you don’t need to go to a particular place before you cross over—all I have to do is focus on the destination, and the portal will take us there."

  "Convenient," I said.

  "I'll take you as close to High King Oberon's palace as I can. Are you ready, or do you need more time?"

  I glanced at my companions briefly, but none of them had any protests. We were all here, and there was no reason to delay. "We're ready."

  She nodded and removed a small gemstone from her pocket. It was similar to the one I'd used to open Heaven, but this one swirled with a rainbow of colors, all constantly shifting and changing in a pattern that was mesmerizing. She held it out before her and the colors shot out in a beam and formed a glowing portal, large enough for all of us to pass through. Einial stepped back, since she would be staying behind, while Theo and some of his soldiers went through first to ensure it was safe.

  Once they'd determined there was no threat, I walked through the portal, discovering another world, one of nature and color and the heady perfume of flowers. A light spring rain fell upon us, and if I remembered correctly, that meant it was morning here also. Faerie was unique in that it went through every season over a twenty-four hour period, from blazing hot summer days to bitter cold winter nights.

  We stood in the middle of a courtyard surrounded by white pillars wrapped in dark green ivy, and I looked up at the sky, so blue it almost sparkled like the ocean. To my surprise, Faerie felt like home, just like Heaven had. I breathed in the scents that drifted tantalizingly from the oversized blooms that grew up around us, and something woke inside me, unfurling and stretching, taking over.

  Power.

  I spread my fingers and tiny white flowers appeared before them, sprouting up from the dirt and grass at our feet, growing faster than was possible in nature. A strong breeze picked up, toying with the blades of grass, making the flowers dance, and I let out a bright laugh. As Persephone, I had been a princess of the Spring Court—and my powers had returned.

  "What was that?" Callan asked.

  "When Hannah was Persephone, she had the unique ability to make plants grow," Zel said, with a slight shake of her head. "You should have seen what she did to the palace in Hell."

  "How are you getting these powers?" Belial asked. "First darkness, now this. You never had them in your other lives."

  "I believe it's my Archangel gift, allowing me to tap into the powers from my past lives," I said, as I caused more plants to grow around us. Even when I'd believed I was human, I’d sought out plants and flowers, finding them soothing and restorative. I'd been unable to unlock this power until I felt Faerie's energy all around me, but it had been inside me all along—a reminder of my life as Persephone. My fae powers from the Spring Court were back too, allowing me to control air as well.

  Kassiel nodded like he could follow my thoughts. “Yes, that makes sense. Jophiel’s power made people forget. Your power is to remember.”

  My smile fell at the mention of my sister, but it did make a strange sort of sense. I'd recovered most of my memories from my previous lives, and now I was able to tap into those powers too. "Let's hope I can help Lucifer do the same."

  Everyone had come through the portal now, with Mirabella stepping through last. The portal closed behind her and the gem in her hand dulled. "The High King lives in the castle at the top of that hill," she said, pointing ahead of us at a large mountain with a gleaming white fairy tale castle on top of it, with spires and arches and silver towers. "This is where messengers and other visitors wait to be granted entrance. Transport should arrive shortly."

  "We could always just fly up there," Belial muttered.

  "It's best to follow the High King's protocols," Mirabella said. "Those who cross him don't often survive."

  "I met him once, and I have to agree," Kassiel added, his mouth twisting.

  Zel rested her hands on her daggers. "Something's coming."

  Shapes appeared on the horizon, and I shielded my eyes with my hand as I watched them approach. “What are they?”

  “Griffins," Mirabella said. "From the High King's personal fleet. It's a great honor."

  The beasts touched down in the courtyard, surprisingly light on their taloned feet and graceful for such large creatures. They had the bodies of lions and the wings and heads of eagles, and on their backs they had golden saddles with fae riders sitting in them. There was no mistaking the riders as anything other than fae, with their pointed ears, ethereal beauty, and unusually colored hair.

  Most surprising of all—my son Damien rode at the front of them.

  As he dismounted his griffin, I rushed toward him, unable to help myself. Of all my sons, Damien was the one who most resembled me—or at the least me when I had been Persephone. His eyes were the color of periwinkles and his hair was an indigo so dark it looked black until the light hit it and revealed the truth of his fae heritage. As a prince of the Spring Court, he wore a small crown of gold with jeweled flowers, along with a billowy black silk shirt and trousers, plain but obviously made by the finest tailors. He flashed me a charming smile as I approached, the one that had always made me forgive him no matter what he'd done—and he'd always been a very mischievous child.

  "Damien!" I drew him close, my heart overflowing with love. It had been so many decades since I'd seen him last, in another life entirely. "Or should I call you Dionysus?"

  He made a pained face and laughed. "No, I don't use that name any longer. Damien is fine."

  I pulled back to really look at him, noticing a darkness in his gaze that had never been there before, though his smile never faltered. "I missed you so much."

  “It’s always too long between your lives. Though I heard Father put an end to the curse finally. Kassiel's told me a few things, but I'd love to hear about it from you."

  I reached up to touch his glorious hair, so beautiful under the sun. "Yes, we have lots to catch up on."

  "Indeed." He grinned and swatted my hand away from his hair. "Like how you're carrying my sister."

  "It's weird, isn't it?" Kassiel asked, as he drew closer to us. "We've all lived for hundreds of years, yet now we're getting a baby sister."

  "Not so weird to us," Belial said. "We went through it with you, after all."

  "It's good to see you both again," Damien said, and the brothers all did those manly hugs that mostly consisted of back-patting and grunting. My heart melted at the sight of the three of them together for the first time in...well, probably centuries. Our family was finally reunited once again. The only person missing was Lucifer. I resolved once more to get him back, and to recreate this moment again with him at my side.

  "Good to see me, you mean." Kassiel lifted his chin at Belial with a grin. "We're still not sure about this guy."

  Damien arched an eyebrow. "What's he done now?"

  "I'll tell you later," Kassiel said, while Belial scowled at them both.

  "I look forward to the full report." Damien gestured toward the castle above us. "Right now the High King is waiting, and I suggest we make haste."

  "Yes, we don't want to keep him waiting," I said. "Especially since I have a feeling we'll need his help."

  “Then let's begin the next part of your journey.” Damien stepped forward, placing his hand on my elbow. He led me toward the griffins, and the other fae riders stood and bowed their heads. We stopped in front of one that had been tethered to Damien's griffin and had no rider.

  “I haven't seen griffins in so long." I reached out and allowed the griffin to nudge its head against my fingertips. Its warm breath fanned over my skin and its curved beak poked against my hand. Without warning, it dropped to its knees, turning its head inquisitively as it seemed to wait for my next move.

  “She’s accept
ed you," Damien said with a smile. "That’s an invitation to climb on her back."

  I ran my fingers through her luxurious white feathers as I settled onto soft, golden fur and a firm saddle. Like most magical beings of myth and legend, griffins were native to Faerie, and they served as transportation for the nobles of the different courts. “It's good to know I haven't lost my touch with magical beings after all these years."

  Damien mounted the griffin beside me. "I never had any doubts."

  My companions were seated behind the fae riders, and I was the only one honored with a griffin of my own. I hoped I remembered how to ride one.

  Once everyone was settled on their griffins, our beasts leaped into the air and spread their wings, taking us toward the castle and one of the most dangerous men alive—the High King of the Fae.

  8

  Hannah

  We flew through the air toward Oberon’s castle, and riding the griffin was entirely different from flying under the power of my own wings, with her sleek muscles flexing beneath my thighs and the steady beat of her wings sending currents of air to wash over me.

  The castle loomed before us, sparkling in the sunlight as if the entire building was made of crystal. Perhaps it was. Turrets stretched high into the air, with colorful flags representing each of the different courts waving slowly against the blue sky. Even here there were trees and flowers everywhere, seamlessly woven into the architecture. The fae were deeply in tune with nature and the elements, one of the few things I missed about being one of them.

  The griffins set down in the courtyard in front of the palace, where dozens of guards in elaborate silver armor and plumed helmets were stationed. A man in fine livery stood on the wide steps leading up to the massive door inlaid with gems and carved with ancient runes. He bowed low as I approached, with my guards and companions fanning out behind me, and my sons at my side.

  "Your majesty, the High King is expecting you," he said. "Please follow me."

  The man cast a slightly disparaging glance over my group as the door opened behind him, moving silently despite its size. He led us inside the palace, into a great entry filled with more guards and a few noble fae dressed in their finest clothes with hair in every shade of the rainbow. I looked closely, but didn't recognize any of them. Not really a surprise, since it had been many centuries since I'd been Persephone, and I'd spent much of my time in Hell during that life anyway.

  As the man led us further into the castle, I took in my surroundings and felt like I'd gone back in time—or stepped into my previous life. Almost nothing had changed in hundreds of years in this castle, and I suspected that was true of all of Faerie. Technology didn't work in this realm, and the fae were resistant to change in general. It was one reason they preferred to stay neutral in conflicts and to live in isolation here in Faerie, with very few people coming or going from this realm.

  An air of hushed calm hung in each of the spaces we moved through, until we stopped in a waiting room outside two large doors that I remembered led to the throne room. There were other fae here chatting with each other, all nobles judging by their clothes and the jewels decorating their bodies. Each one was dressed in elegant clothes that looked like something from the 1800s, and they gave us judgmental looks as we entered. My group was all dressed for combat, not courtly life, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

  A tall, willowy woman stood by the window, and she wore a pastel pink gown of the finest silk. Her hair was the color of purple hydrangea and atop it was a crown similar to Damien's, but much more elaborate. She turned slowly, revealing herself in such a way that my breath froze in my chest.

  “Mother?” I stepped forward to greet her, but her periwinkle blue eyes were cool and devoid of care as she leveled her gaze at me. Demeter was the Queen of the Spring Court and my mother when I'd been Persephone. It had been many centuries since I'd seen her, and my heart overflowed with joy at the thought of reconnecting with another member of my family.

  She took me in slowly, her eyes scanning me head to toe while a tight frown crossed her lips. “You’re not my daughter in this life.”

  I drew back as if she'd slapped me across the face. How could she be so callous and cruel? My children were no less mine because this wasn’t the body that had birthed them, and she would always be my mother, no matter how long it had been.

  “Mother, please." I hated explaining myself, and tried not to sound weak as I asked for the recognition of our relationship. "I know I've been gone for a long time, but I’ve regained my memories and my powers. I am truly your daughter once more. In mind and spirit, if not in body.”

  "I mourned my daughter's death. She is gone, and you...you are a stranger." She walked past my group, leaving the fragrance of lavender in her wake. Her words cut deep into me, and I stared after her as she joined another group of fae with her back to me.

  Even Damien looked shocked and horrified by his grandmother's comments. "I'm sorry. I asked her to come with me to this meeting, but I didn't realize she would react that way upon seeing you."

  "It's not your fault." I sighed, and tried now to show how much it bothered me. Demeter had always been a difficult mother, and some things never changed. After all, she'd made Lucifer agree to that ridiculous deal that had forced me to spend half my time in Hell and half my time here in Faerie, even though I'd been a grown adult who could make my own decisions about my life. To call her an overbearing parent was putting it lightly.

  All thoughts of my mother vanished when the man who'd led us here held up a thin, silver fanfare trumpet, which he began to blow as soon the doors opened to admit us. I stepped inside the throne room first, walking down a long white carpet with my entourage behind me. In here there were even more guards in full armor, along with more nobles in long gowns or elegant suits who studied us with haughty looks.

  The man we’d followed in bowed deeply from the waist. “Presenting Queen Hannah of the demons, along with her guests.”

  High King Oberon sat on a wide stage on a huge throne of tooled gold and silver designed by some of the finest craftsmen in Faerie. Exquisite metal vines twisted together so that it looked like the king was sitting on a chair made of plants and flowers, yet he managed to lounge as if he was completely relaxed. Behind him were huge windows looking out at the sky, with a stunning view of much of Faerie below it.

  The most powerful fae of all time focused his eyes on me, while my group bowed low to him. I nearly bowed too, and then remembered that I was his equal now. Above his pointed ears was a crown done in the same style as his throne, and he had long black hair and cold eyes, with an expression that somehow looked both bored and cruel all at once.

  "It's been a long time," he said to me in his haughty voice. “I preferred you as Persephone, though I do enjoy the irony of you being an angel now. And Demon Queen, no less.”

  It took all my self-control not to roll my eyes. Was everyone in this realm stuck on the idea of me as Persephone? Yet while I might have changed, Oberon was still the same asshole as always.

  Though I did notice one change from my previous life—there was no throne beside him anymore. I'd recently learned that my aunt, his wife, Titania, was dead, and most believed that Oberon was responsible. She was my mother's older sister and a powerful fae queen, but she'd been unable to produce children, and in Oberon's desperation to have a son and heir, he had many affairs. In retaliation, she cursed him to only have daughters. The rumor was that for many years he'd tried everything to break the curse, but when nothing worked, he'd killed Titania in a fit of rage. I believed it. The man was evil. Unfortunately, I had to play nice while in his realm.

  I gritted my teeth behind my tight, closed-lipped smile. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice. As you saw in my message, Lucifer has recently escaped the confines of Heaven."

  "You mean War," Oberon corrected. "I suspect there is little left of Lucifer in there."

  "We'll see about that." My fingernails bit into my palms as I forced
myself to keep my cool. "He wants to start a war that will encompass all the realms, including Faerie. He must be stopped—and we believe the only way to do so is to use another Elder God."

  A few shocked gasps went up around the throne room before it fell into deathly silence once more. Oberon straightened at my words and curved his hands over the arms of his throne. "You wish to release Famine."

  "We do, yes."

  He tilted his head as he considered. "Releasing one Horseman to stop another is a risky gamble. Still, Famine hates War, so you may have some success if you wish them to battle it out. But then what do you do with the winner? Or the loser, for that matter?" He stroked his chin. "There might be another way to save Lucifer."

  "What is it?" I asked, unable to hide my eagerness. I’d searched all the books for any other solution, but hadn’t come across anything viable, but perhaps Oberon had knowledge even more ancient than I could access.

  "If someone is possessed by an Elder God, that person can wage the battle inside themselves—an internal fight to defeat the god and take their powers.” He raised his eyebrows. “Only a few people would be strong enough to do such a thing, but Lucifer is one of them.”

  My heart sank. “Except he failed."

  Belial turned to me. "He only failed because he lost all his memories of you, so he didn't want to fight War. He has no reason to wish for peace without you."

  "He's right," Damien said. "You were always the one to calm Father, from the very beginning."

  Kassiel nodded. "And it's because of you that he ended the war with the angels at all."

  A tiny ray of hope fluttered in my chest again. "So if we could get his memories back, he might be able to fight War and defeat him. But he sacrificed those memories—how would we get them back?"

  No one seemed to have an answer for that.

  Oberon waved a lazy hand. "Perhaps it's impossible. You may have to trap the Horsemen again in tombs, as we did in the old times. Or you could always try to send them to Void."