The Devil's Advocate

by Michaela Haze

  “You are being punished. You are not to leave the Ice Castle. That is what the restraints are for.” Lucifer disappeared in a blink. He hadn’t needed to approach the door. I strode over and gripped the handle. I shook it roughly.

  The bastard had locked it.

  A subservient Hellhound, with a silk panel over every part of her face apart from her glowing orange eyes, interrupted my isolation exactly forty thousand, two hundred and eight seconds later.

  She dropped to her knees and bowed so low that her forehead touched the frozen crimson floor.

  I eyed her without emotion. The hound did not speak. I wanted to snort in laughter. I couldn’t imagine Luiz ever showing That level of reverence to me.

  “Consort...?” the hound addressed me nervously. I stood up and stretched to my full height to ease my aching muscles. The silver on my wrists disabled me in almost every way. I was sweating, blood pumping disposable human.

  “The Master wishes for your presence at dinner.” The hound said softly. It was not a request.

  I sighed audibly and trudged to the walk-in closet. I watched my handmaiden select an outfit that Luc would approve of. An Haute Couture lace gown, in burgundy. The neckline was high and partially obscured my throat, but the lace clung to my breasts. The space between the weave showed my chalky skin.

  When I was satisfied that I would pass muster, I allowed the hound to lead me to the dining hall even though I knew the castle like the back of my hand.

  Once upon a time, I had navigated the corridors, naked, on all fours. Blindfolded.

  Luc had removed my hands once. I had still been forced to crawl.

  When two Pureblood guards pulled open the ornate doors to the dining hall, I could not hold in the gasp that escaped my lips. Two men were on top of the expansive dining table and appeared to be eating each other's faces.

  Not affectionately. Literally. Blood streamed down their chins. They both sobbed and howled in pain. Despite their anguish, their bodies fervently obeyed Luc’s commands.

  I strode forward, the bottom of my dress swished and added to the cacophony of sounds. A woman sobbing. Luc laughing softly, in benign amusement.

  I plucked a glass of Vinum Hell Wine from a tray when it was offered to me. It was full of Magic, but I could not enjoy it due to the damn restraints of my wrists.

  I eyed the woman tied to the basic wooden chair next to Luc's throne at the head of the table. Her head lulled in exhaustion, but Luc grabbed her hair and forced her to watch the two men as they consumed each other.

  “The Crime?” I asked in a dry voice.

  Luc smirked. “This one married a man, despite being otherwise inclined. She deceived him until the day that she died.”

  The woman was young; she must have met some premature end.

  “And the men?” I took a sip of my wine, even though I would have enjoyed it in normal circumstances for some reason it was bitter in my mouth. The alcohol turned my stomach, so I placed the goblet on the table. I remained standing in front of the cannibalistic display.

  I had seen worse. I had been part of much worse.

  “That’s the husband. He was having an affair.”

  “With a man?” I smiled wryly.

  “No.”

  I chuckled to myself and shook my head. The woman’s sobs continued. I had no interest in the dinner show that Luc put on, but the stench of their deceptions, layers and layers of masks and hidden secrets was like catnip in the First Circle.

  The air was charged with the energy of their Sins. I inhaled deeply and allowed the sensation to wash over me, even if it was dulled and my true connection was broken.

  “You ordered my presence?” I queried with disinterest. I inspected the room, and it’s alabaster walls and sconces.

  Luc waved his hand, and the sinners disappeared in a flurry of Hellfire. He crooked a brow and waited for me to take a seat. I had just parked myself in one of the more elaborate of the mismatched chairs at the table, when the heavy doors swung open with a thud.

  I restrained myself from standing up and running to one of my only friends at the Ice Castle. Abaddon; Abe for short. He stretched his arms open as if the world was his stage. Luc stared blankly and I wondered if he resisted the urge to roll his eyes because of my presence. Luc was trying to be stern. Ever the Master. With every different persona that he donned, sometimes they would meld. I wondered how much he had truly changed in the time that we had spent apart.

  “My Queen!” Abe rushed to my chair and lowered himself into a weird mixture between curtesy and bow. I watched the display with detached interest. I did not want to incur more punishment. I was already in chains, I did not want to spur Luc’s wrath further.

  “Surely you can welcome an old friend, Pet?” Luc asked. I surveyed his expression, on the other end of the long dining room table and I could not tell if he was sincere or not.

  Abe had been my bodyguard and personal shadow in the Ice Castle. Ever since Luc had gifted me life.

  “How are things?” I asked as I scanned the room for my goblet of wine. Someone had swept it away when I wasn’t looking.

  Abe puffed his wide chest and his beam lit up the whole room. “I’ve added some new additions to the sculpture garden.” He said proudly. “I always knew that was your favourite place.”

  “Were you expecting me then?” I queried, but directed the question to Luc. He smiled to himself but said nothing.

  “This is your home, Dahlia.” Abe said, his tone was full of confusion.

  “Time passes differently in the Human Realities, I suppose.” I said dryly. I stood up with a flourish forgetting the abundance of tulle that sat under my skirt. I fluffed out my dress and straightened my spine. “I’d like to see your new sculptures, if I am allowed?” I observed Luc for a response. He nodded once, the Devil’s eyes turned to Abe’s and sent a silent message that I didn’t have the energy to try and decode.

  Abe strode forward, the clink of his leather and iron jerkin was the only sound as we walked through the castle. The crimson floor created a small amount of steam, which added to the ominous feel that the First Circle created without trying. The floor was made up entirely of the frozen blood of betrayers. If it were to melt, it would be liquid and as fresh as the day it was spilt.

  Abaddon gestured for me to walk through the front doors first. The silver engraved entrance caught the reflection from glowing outside. The sky was a deep charcoal colour and the only light source were the pillars of Hellfire the guarded the front gate.

  The sculpture garden had used to be my favourite but I no longer knew if it would be.

  Abe was one of the original fallen. Not as powerful as Luc, but still one of the first to fall from Heaven.

  Mythology knew him as the Demon of Destruction, but the name was not quite correct. Abe did not destroy, most of his innate gifts specialised in changing one thing to another. Iron to Silver. Flesh to Stone.

  The ivory columns greeted us, their heads visible from the perfectly tended topiary hedges that circled the private garden. Each stone figure was elevated on marble plinth. If you looked closely, you could see spikes through each person’s feet to hold them in place.

  Not that anyone could escape whilst ensconced in stone.

  “What’s the name of the newest addition?” I ran my hand along to curve of the nearest sculpture's shin. It was a young woman with her hands clasped together as if she was praying.

  Abaddon shrugged. “I like to call this one 'Adulteress',”

  “Half of the sculptures in the garden have that name. You really strive for originality in your work, don’t you Abe?”

  Abaddon was silent. We walked through the garden and I allowed my hand to trace the curves of the stone sculptures. I had used to go to the garden as an escape. Luc claimed to hate my sanctum. He had once told me in confidence that the stone would scream to him but I could never hear it.

  I eyed Abe shrewdly and wondered if he could hear their screams as well.

&nbs
p; “Lucifer mentioned that your connection to Hell has been removed for the time being?” Abe stretched out on a bench once we reached the small seating area in the middle of human statues. He yawned, even though I knew that he did not have the capability to sleep.

  “It is not a hardship,” I admitted. I did not take a seat and I found that I hovered awkwardly. I did not know what to do with my hands. “I spent many hours in the Human Realities cut off from the threads of Hell.” I admitted as I flicked my eyes over my surroundings and tried to catalogue the new additions to the garden. I layered the image in front of my eyes with my last visit over two centuries ago.

  “Why?” Abe said, shocked.

  I shrugged. “It passed the time.”

  Abe put his hands behind his head and relaxed. I would never admit to him that my brief stints into humanity steamed more from a desire to find the root of the prophecy and to work my way back into Luc’s good graces.

  “Lucifer has been excited for your return.” Abaddon said jovially, his sharp blue eyes surveyed my face for a change of expression. He would find nothing there. Knowledge was power and I was not willing to open my heart again. Not after last time.

  “I did not expect to be gone so long.” I murmured, as I distractedly surveyed the garden for a surprise visit from Luc.

  “You were gone as long as you needed to be, as Lucifer said.”

  I snorted in disgust. “Enough time for Luc to find a human and bed her the second that I was distracted.”

  “He was your distraction.” Abe whispered.

  “I want to see the book of Prophecies.” I said suddenly, my fists were clenched.

  “I don’t think that it wise, Dahlia.”

  “I can go where I like,” I reminded him.

  “Why do you insist on torturing yourself with that prophecy?”

  My gaze went to the floor and I eyed the charred and dead grass as it shifted with the nonexistent wind. The castle was on top of a mountainous obsidian foundation but the temperature was unimportant. All I knew was that standing still for too long caused icicles to form.

  Abe conceded my request and gestured for me to walk forward with a flourish of his hand.

  “Did he miss me at all, Abe?” I asked in a small voice. I realised my slip back into our old confidence as the words flew into the ether and I could not get them back.

  Abaddon graciously ignored me as he led me to the archives. Occasionally he would pull a tapestry to the side and show me a door that I had never seen before. As well as I knew the castle, Abaddon had helped to build it.

  Hellhounds scurried through the hallways, light of foot and heads down to avoid our attention.

  “The Hounds on the surface are much bolder,” I noted.

  “The clever ones always escape to the Human Realities,” Abe said with a grunt.

  We reached the archive and the hairs on the back of my neck tingled as I felt them rise. The archive was full of ancient and powerful objects. Some obscure and relatively harmless but many were nefarious. The room was a dark and damp corner of the castle. Shelves made of iron, silver and antique brass lined the cavern. Each of the metals were particularly susceptible to magic in some way. Silver was adept at holding onto enchantments, whilst iron was perfect for repelling magic, and brass enhanced the effect.

  The book of Prophecies had pride of place on its own stand, made of white ash wood. It was encased in its own glass box, which was a new addition.

  I approached reverently and couldn’t help the way my hand stretched out as I ached to touch it. The words were written in burnt black scrawl, and in some parts were almost completely illegible.

  Years before, with the beginning of written language, there had been a Seer. Her name had been long forgotten, but Luc had imprisoned her and forced her to write every single word of the future that she knew onto the flailed skin of betrayers and decievers. The result was bound and then became known as the book of Prophecies.

  The pages laid open at the prophecy that I hated with every fibre of my being. I studied the words as if I could change them. “Two Roses. One thorn. Bloody and infected. Lucifer will come to claim her. A child will be born. More powerful than fallen.”

  Abe said nothing. He had spent many hours in the same position by my side as I obsessed over the those words. Back when I was younger and more foolish, I had assumed that I could change the words with my strength of will. I would add punctuation and change grammar where I could, just so that I could make the words sound as if they meant something else. The bottom of the page was obscured, as it always had been, by a large burnt hand print. No one apart from Luc knew what the last line read.

  “Bloody and infected.” I laughed harshly. “I don’t think that applied to the Rose brothers at all, Abaddon.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I think that I'm the infected it speaks of. Why else would I feel this way? So twisted. Consumed with jealousy over a human,” I was grateful that I could not cry because tears would have been dropping off my chin if I had the ability to create them.

  “Luc will take me back to the Human Realities, won’t he?” I said in a small voice. “He will force me to remove the First Circle magic from Nora Bleu’s mind.”

  “Most likely,” Abe conceded, there was no pity in his tone. Only truth.

  “Why is she the one that gets to bear his child, Abe?” I turned and grabbed the front of his armour. I wrenched him forward, my eyes were wide, pleading and tinged with madness. “I am part of Luc. He made me. Sculpted me. Why am I unworthy of bearing his child?”

  “You can’t. It’s not possible.” He shook his head. Abe had had variants of the same conversation with me thousands of times.

  I beat my fist against his chest. “It’s not fair! What does that human have that I don’t?”

  Abe held the tops of my arms as I grew enraged. With a clenched jaw and wild eyes, I stepped forward. I wanted to unleash fury and knock Abaddon back through the corridor but when I reached for my power it was nothing but a fizzle when it should have been a firework.

  “Dahlia—”

  I stepped back in disgust. My feet stumbled across the flat ground.

  “I want to go back to my room.” I demanded as I turned around without a word and marched back to my chambers.

  Luc left me to my own devices after my trip to the sculpture garden.

  I was not aware of his methods, but somehow Lucifer was always privy to the inner workings of the castle.

  I had slipped up by voicing my insecurities regarding the prophecy. Perhaps Luc had sent me away because he hoped that my absence would make me more accepting of the fact that he would bare a child with another woman.

  If anything, it turned my pain into something ingrained into the marrow of my bones.

  The occasional reminders of an eventual child had been easier to deal with when the future was a distant and ever changing possibility.

  A human's life was only so long. Lucifer had confirmed Ms. Bleu as the mother of his child, which meant that the prophecy was going to come to fruition within the next twenty years.

  Who was I kidding? The events were imminent.

  The prophecy said nothing of a long and healthy partnership between the womb that bore his progeny. Although no one knew what the last sentence of the prophecy said. For all I knew, it could allude to Luc finally taking a mate.

  Mating for Purebloods was a serious matter. It involved marking and then sharing a soul.

  Luc had branded me with his Sigil, which I wore on the nape of my neck. However, he had never completed the ritual. It involved giving yourself over completely.

  Luc and I had a strange relationship by Hell's standards. A consort was a permanent relationship and status symbol, and it was rare to have one and to not have the mate power exchange in place as well.

  It often made the weaker partner a bargaining chip.

  Luc had trained me though. I could withstand almost anything beca
use Luc had taught me to hold onto my pain. To savour it.

  To be cold and callus at the snap of my master’s fingers. I was conditioned.

  Alone in my chambers, Luc had vacated the room at some point in the past. We had used to share the wrought iron four poster bed.

  Although, because Demon’s did not sleep, we often utilised it for other activities.

  Moving slowly and with purpose, I got into the 'Needle at the bottom of the sea' tai chi position and closed my eyes. I inhaled deeply and allowed my mind to calm.

  Still, I felt empty. As if a part of me was missing.

  I could not decide if it was because of my broken connection to Hell and to Luc or if it was because I was away from my life in the Human Realities.

  A soft knock caused me to open my eyes sluggishly. My handmaiden came in and gave a curtsy.

  “My Queen,” she whispered as if I had hung the moon itself. I found myself having a hard time adjusting to being spoken to like a God. “The Master wishes for you to be ready for this evening’s festivities.”

  I eased myself out of position and put my hands on my hips. I had always practiced tai chi entirely nude. “What has he planned?”

  The hound bowed her head and avoided looking at my body. “He is convening the Seven and wishes for you to be at his side.”

  I rolled my eyes. I disliked the dog and pony show that came with any gathering involving the seven original Purebloods of Hell.

  “Master has requested an outfit,” the hound said lightly.

  “Of course he has.” I shook my head in disgust but still walked to the closet like a good little slave. I watched as the Hound perused the shelves until she found the preapproved outfit.

  The gown was sheer but floor length. It was made of crimson silk; the colour was designed to contrast directly with my chalk white hair.

  It was designed to be form fitting and a panel of material was missing between the neckline right to the navel. It highlighted my breasts whilst hiding my nipples.