The Devil's Advocate

by Michaela Haze

  My thighs were burning. I couldn’t stop the birth of my child, even if I knew that our deaths were imminent. I cursed and snarled with every breath.

  Meesha stepped forward, and bent down low to survey my helpless position on the ground. My legs were spread and my knees bent. Her knife kissed the hard skin of my stomach.

  “Maybe I'll slice you now and take the bastard for my own. Tell Luc that intruders came into the castle...? The Leviathan has made too many enemies now in his quest to take more territories. Lucifer will believe me. I know it.”

  I whimpered as the hellhound’s taunts became background noise. There could have been a circus performing around me and I wouldn’t have had a clue.

  I felt a small reprieve between contractions. I stretched and burned. I was almost there.

  One more push.

  I reached down to assess what was happening, my fingers brushed against a downy patch of hair.

  My baby was almost with me.

  I eyed the knife in Meesha’s hands. If no one would come, I could take the knife and gut the bitch whilst she was gloating. One last push.

  The hound watched my pain with unbridled glee. Another gush of liquid pushed between my legs. A burning rip and then a pop, and I felt my baby slide down into my hands.

  By preventing my child from falling into the stone floor, I had exposed myself.

  The knife slammed into my chest, I gritted my teeth against the fresh pain. I forced my hands to cup the tiny squalling body of my infant child, not allowing myself to drop the baby despite the fact my head slammed against the solid floor.

  I blinked as I felt my blood wet my legs. My chest.

  Meesha ripped away from my touch as if she had been burnt. She looked to the sky in fear before disappearing in a flurry of Hellfire.

  Darkness creeped along the edges of my vision.

  When I opened my eyes, my Devil stared down at me and his child.

  I was so tired...

  My baby was a girl...

  Lucifer

  “You’ll be okay.” I say the words, but they don’t ring with the truth. I’ve seen the hovering spectre of death too many times to believe my words. It comes in different forms. Hellions dissolve into the Hellfire, claimed and destroyed. I don’t want that for her. My Dahlia.

  The shrill cry of my child echoes through the quiet room, punctuating my frantic pleading. I reach down and push a lock of her hair behind her ear, cradling my infant daughter in one hand and the cheek of my lover in the other. Blood leaks from her mouth, eyes, ears, and nose. Her pupils are so large that they encase her irises completely in black.

  “Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to us. Please, Pet. Please just stay with me. A little longer. Please. Don’t do this. Don’t close your eyes. I’m here.”

  “Luc,” She croaks.

  “No.” I order her, “Don’t do this.”

  She lifts her hand to touch the side of my face. I can smell her scent on my skin, like frozen flowers and crisp winter show. Her fingers are limp and her eyes can’t see me anymore.

  “Can I hold her?” She whispers.

  My face crumples in defeat. I know what she is doing. She’s saying goodbye. I despise the situation with every ounce of my being. I want to scream at her for her foolishness. For allowing the events to align to force her death.

  I had forgotten that I was holding a part of her. Our newborn child. I rest the squalling bundle on her chest, and the pale cream blanket quickly becomes damp around the edges as the wound on her chest does not heal. I keep my grip on my daughter’s tiny warm body, so that Dahlia does not drop her. I admire the baby’s clear grey eyes as they blink up at me.

  Dahlia sobs but tries to catch it before it escapes her mouth. I’m unable to talk around the growing lump in my throat. It’s burning presence constricts my chest. I place my delicate fingers on the silver cuffs on her wrists and they spring open. What had once been some of my finest magic now rests on the floor of the archives.

  I know it’s too late, but hope is deadly and it rears its head even though I try to quash it.

  Hell magic sparks over her skin and rushes forward into the air like static. It does not heal her. I knew it wouldn’t. I look down to see that she has not stopped bleeding. Her thighs are slick with blood as she haemorrhages. In that second, one of the most powerful people to ever walk the plains of Hell has fallen.

  “It's time.” She whispers and strokes out child’s tiny button nose. She memorises her small face.

  “I can’t.” I whisper.

  She blinks and a drop of blood lands on our baby’s cheek. She hands me the child without a word. Her chest heaves as she splutters a wet cough and I hear her heart battle between the rush of Hell magic and the meat of humanity. I watch helplessly as her eyes glaze over and her arms slump to the floor.

  I’m left holding a howling child. I can offer no comfort. I cannot contemplate existing. Living. It has become too painful.

  Dahlia is a husk. Empty.

  She’s fucking dead.

  I bury my head in the warm bundle of blankets and inhale the scent of my newborn daughter. I sob dry tears. Never have I felt such sorrow. Such pain. The wound of her absence is a festering pit that will never heal. Something plunks to the ground. It’s a pebble. I recognise it at once. It is one of the ingredients to the Ice Prison.

  She got them? Damn, my wily female. She did it.

  I force my numb hands into action, reaching into the pockets of her trousers by her feet and searching for the articles that I seek. Abaddon comes and takes my child away, soothing her with a battle hymn. Heaven before earth.

  Her body grows cold as I frantically search Dahlia’s lifeless corpse for the flower and the feather.

  The threads of Hell approach, curling towards us like a snake seeking its prey. They want to take her.

  “I’m not done!” I snarl and fling out my power like a blanket.

  I mutter the words that the Lord spat in my face as he destroyed my grace and created my prison.

  The world rips open and claims my Consort. My Mate.

  The Ice prison swallows her whole, but I fear that it may be too late.

  The story continues in The Devil's Lullaby

  Coming 5th December

  Available on Preorder now

  The Devil is here to keep you safe,

  And any that cross you will feel his wrath,

  Hush little child, life is not fair,

  Your mother died to bring you here.

  - The Devil's Lullaby

  Who is Nora Bleu?

  He took me. Trapped me like an animal.

  I was used and spat out again by a beautiful Demon.

  I didn’t know that he was an incubus, desperate for my life.

  I was one of the lucky ones. I managed to escape.

  I will make him pay.

  I will watch him burn.

  How it all began…

  The prequel to

  The Devil’s Advocate

  I don’t have a name.

  He calls me his Pet.

  He controls me. I am his.

  But he is mine too.

  I was created to love him.

  To serve him.

  He is the Devil, and I am his Consort.

  If you liked Luc and Dahlia’s story, you’ll love The Bleeders!

  Now free on Amazon Kindle

  All I wanted was to kill them. The people that murdered my sister.

  Little did I know that the man I hired to do the job, Henry Blaire, was an incubus.

  A soul-sucking monster that can kill with one touch.

  He's dark, dangerous and addictive. Literally.

  There is a word for people like me.

  People that drink daemon blood to become powerful, beautiful and strong.

  They call us The Bleeders.

  Without the people that enjoy my books, I would probably still be having an eternal duvet day.

  Depression is a harsh and unforgiving mist
ress.

  Writing has given me something to strive towards. People to reach and help with my words. I honestly love seeing every single review come in and couldn’t continue to write without you people out there actually reading my books!

  I don’t earn any money from my novels (about a fiver every six months if I am honest) so it would really mean a lot that if you did enjoy this book, review and share it with others.

  Some people here probably have no idea that they have helped in the completion of this novel but let’s get this tedious list (that no one ever actually reads) out of the way.

  MK, the father of my children and the loader of my dishwasher. Even when you interrupt my writing to talk about Bitcoin, I still love you. (Please stop doing it though, yeah?)

  My parents, who are loving and supportive. I am happy that you both made me. You’re good peeps.

  To the girls at the ole MC (and Andi), thanks for listening to my incessant rambling at work.

  The Devil's Consort

  A sneak peek

  The cobblestones flew past my feet as I ran through the City of Dis. It's buildings stretched into the dusty red sky, like blackened tree branches searching for sunlight. Made of glass, too perfectly rendered to have been made by human hands. Free of imperfections, the reflections in the glass showed the flashes of Hellfire that rippled through the clouds.

  The Hessian fabric storefronts shifted with a breeze that couldn’t be felt on the skin.

  It was much more fun to try and escape my guards without Lacing.

  Lacing was the art of folding space and redirecting your location. I was notoriously bad at it, often finding myself in various parts of Hell without want of being there. Running was safer for all those involved. It meant that I had to engage my wits to escape Abaddon.

  I was still young, in the eyes of the Demons of the First Circle. Many of whom had existed since time had begun. A wayward child of the Devil's Court. It was almost expected that I would cause mischief wherever I went.

  I could not hear his lumbering footfalls, but that meant nothing. Abaddon's gaze burnt into the back of my skull and I looked up to see that I was being watched from the top of a building.

  Abe's eyes glowed in the darkness, like two red pennies. Second in command to the Devil, Abaddon was the Angel of Destruction before he fell with Lucifer.

  What are you up to, little Pet? His voice echoed through my mind as I skidded around a corner and ducked into a hidden alleyway.

  My silver eyes scanned the darkness; above my head, were layers of dusty fabrics crossed between buildings, creating canopies that hid the Hellfire light in the sky.

  Low level Nightmare demons, or Drudes as they were known, clung to the walls. When I shifted position, they dispersed like desert sand.

  What were Drude's doing in the First Circle? I shook my head to clear it. Not my problem.

  My eyes rolled back inside of my head as I searched for Abe's presence. I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed that he was far away enough that I could complete the task that I had ventured into the City for.

  Dis was a wealth of glittering baubles. Pride was the sin of the First Circle and the vendors took their wares very seriously.

  Lacing to the far edge of the City, by the banks of the golden stagnant water, I searched for the stall. I had made it on the first try. Fortune was shining upon me.

  There was no name above the storefront, only a plain canvas fabric stained in red dust. I slipped under the curtain into the jewellers and admired the shining pieces.

  Devil's silver was hard to come by. Lucifer had the ability to charm metal and have it hold onto those enchantments, and he often traded those artefacts for information.

  It was rare that a piece would escape outside of the Hell Regency but it did happen. I had tracked the residual energy to the small shop on the edge of the market.

  Glass pendants, and iron rings to repel magic were displayed in meticulous rows, in plush velvet boxes. I trailed my hand along the edge of one of the cabinets until I found the item I was looking for.

  I remembered the tale fondly, though I was not around for the item’s inception some millennia ago.

  Asmodeus, the Queen of Lust had requested an amulet that could rival her power as a succubus. She issued the challenge to Lucifer, in exchange for her alliance if he succeeded.

  I eyed the amulet, and reached forward to touch the glass.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Pet.” A voice echoed from behind the cabinet.

  The glass magnified a large russet coloured iris, making it look to be the size of a walnut. It belonged to a woman with skin as dark as night, and a head absent of hair.

  Everyone knew me as Pet, but it was a title and not a name.

  “I want that,” I licked my bottom lip as my eyes flicked to the magical article.

  “Do you now?” the vendor smiled sweetly. She slipped around the cabinet and came to my side. Taking a piece of my long platinum hair, she rubbed it between her fingers.

  I did not respond.

  “What will you trade for the Devil's silver?” She asked.

  Damn. She knew the object's value. That meant that she was more powerful than a lower demon. Not typically fooled.

  “I have Lydian coins,” I said.

  “I have no use for coins.”

  I felt Abaddon's presence in the back of my mind like a shadow. He had discovered where I was.

  I turned on my heel without a word and walked towards the door to exit the shop.

  A sharp whistle made me jump and I turned to its origin. The vendor threw the necklace at me and I caught it with one hand. The Devil's magic burnt my skin as I clutched the tarnished silver to my chest.

  “My name is Miriam and you owe me a favour of my choosing.” The bald woman declared, her crafty smile showcased every one of her pearlescent teeth.

  I nodded in agreement and slipped out on the streets of the City. I had limited time and whilst I would never have offered a favour in ordinary circumstances, I had been cornered.

  I hid the amulet in a pocket and started to run from the stall as if I had never taken a detour. I quickly heard Abaddon's swift feet to my left and I ducked in time to avoid a sharp blow to my forehead.

  I pulled my knees to my chest as I Laced to the end of the street. I managed to land with my legs outstretched and one hand to the smooth cobblestones.

  Two for two. Maybe my skills were sharpening after all.

  My fingers sparked with adrenaline and the temperature dropped. Abaddon stood in a wide stance on the other side of the promenade. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, still sheathed and hanging from his waist.

  His teeth were gritted.

  “Pet...” he snarled, his eyes glowed the colour of congealed blood.

  Steam curled from my fingertips as I felt my inner darkness beg to be let out. His attack had triggered my natural instincts.

  Abaddon’s gaze did not waver, even when he surveyed my unwilling display of power rising into the air.

  “Enough games.” Abe grunted and I felt his arms encase my torso. I had not even seen him move behind me.

  I struggled but it was no use. He took us both to the castle and threw me to the floor.

  Abaddon looked angry enough to spit. I could not help but laugh. Such an exaggerated reaction for one little outing.

  “What has got your horns in a tangle, Abe?” I laughed as I pushed myself to my feet. I brushed the dust of the City from my dress. I kept the sting to my pride hidden. He had easily taken me down. The chase had been a farce. He had allowed me to believe that I had slipped away from his grasp.

  “You are such a child. Why do you insist on playing such games?” Abe's fists were clenched.

  I shrugged and held back a giggle.

  “If Lucifer finds out that I let you out of my sight, for even a minute, he'll...”

  “He'll what?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Throw a party, perhaps?”

 
Abaddon bristled and followed me as I turned on heel to leave.

  “You need to consider your actions before you display your heinous attitude to the entirety of the First Circle.” Abe pleaded, though his voice was rough.

  I barked a laugh but kept walking towards the large marble staircase in the entrance hall. I had already Laced successfully once that day and I did not want to tempt the fates by trying to do it a second time.

  Abaddon’s heavy heels followed my footsteps as I navigated the castle towards my chambers.

  “Hell forbid that Lucifer's subjects think that he cannot control his Pet,” I muttered.

  “That’s exactly what they will think.”

  “He can control me. But he chooses not to.”

  Abe grabbed the top of my arm and pulled me to a stop. I narrowed my eyes and stared at where his hand made contact with my skin.

  “Plan to turn me into one of your sculptures?” I crooked a brow.

  “You are full of piss and vinegar today, aren’t you?” Abe looked everywhere but into my eyes.

  “I’ll tell you what, Abaddon. If you can get my master to look at me. Talk to me. Anything. Then perhaps I will think before I journey out of the castle's walls.” I pried his fingers from my arm, and I left him on the stairs. The challenge was heavy on the air.

  More from Michaela Haze

  Daemons of London Series

  The Bleeders

  The Human Herders

  The Purebloods

  The Forgotten Queen – Coming soon

  Standalone

  She Wolf – Coming soon

  The Devil’s Advocate

  The Devil’s Advocate (Book 1)

  The Devil’s Lullaby (Book 2) Coming 5th December

  Novellas

  The Devil’s Consort – Coming soon