Queen of Darkness (War of Heavenly Fire Book 1)

by Devyn Sinclair

  They just don’t exist in the Underworld. Maybe I can change that. No one there cares about luxury. They care about winning the war at any cost. But I think everyone deserves a little something like this. But that means that I’m getting ahead of myself. I have to finish the job first.

  Regardless, I take a bath. I soak the dirt away and see that Atlas did an excellent job of cleansing my skin of abrasions. The only thing that did not heal was the brand on my wrist. But that was made by infernal fire, and that will only ever heal in its own time.

  I wash my hair with a jar of shampoo that smells like blueberries and apricots, and sit in the water until it cools.

  Duty calls.

  I wrap myself in one of the fluffy towels from a shelf and approach the armoire. The clothes inside are more colorful than I expected, given the decor, but they’re well-made and beautiful. There’s everything from jeans to training gear to floor-length dresses.

  I suspect the power flowing around this place is what created these clothes, because the high trinity don’t have any reason to know that I wear leather fighting and training gear. Or my measurements. But everything in the closet complements me and my skin. I’m tempted to wear what I normally do. It would be a little bit of armor. But given the role that I’m playing for them, it’s important that I do not.

  The dress I choose is long and flowing, with a deep plunge to the neck that can be either demure or sultry. The only decoration is a beaded band below the breasts. It will work perfectly. I don’t wear anything underneath it, just in case.

  A mirror hangs inside the door of the armoire, and I arrange myself so that I’m not showing off too much skin immediately. Leaving my hair down, I smile at myself. Just another role. Just another girl that’s looking for love. Just another period of time that I’ll force myself to forget. This is nothing.

  This is nothing.

  I open the door to the suite, and there’s an angel standing there, a little way down the hall. He turns when I open the door and smiles. It’s friendly enough, but wary too. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” I say. We stare at each other in the awkwardness for a moment. “I didn’t know if there was somewhere I’m meant to go?”

  He glances at my appearance. “If you’d like to see the High Trinity, I can take you to them.”

  “Um, yes,” I say, swallowing. “They mentioned last night that we’d talk today, but didn’t say anything else.”

  “Follow me.”

  I do. And as we walk, I formulate the story of this Arielle. Who she is and the details I’ll need to fill in the story of what happened to her, given what they already know.

  We don’t have to go far. A few turns along different hallways, and the space opens up. The walls disappear, replaced by columns so there’s a nearly uninterrupted view of the lagoon. The sun shines off the white marble of the floors, dazzling. One long table with food stands in the center, with various groupings of chairs and lounges around the space for people to relax and eat. But there’s no one here right now—except the three angels that I’m here to see.

  They turn as one when they hear our footsteps, and the angel leading me here disappears just as quickly, leaving me standing alone before them. Atlas stands and beckons me forward.

  My head must have been fuzzier than I thought last night after that demon slammed it into the ground, because they’re more beautiful that I remember, that invisible light shining from them even more magnetic. I’m terrified as I walk towards them, because I know in my bones that I won’t be able to treat this like every assignment that I’ve done before. And that’s going to make it so much harder.

  Atlas gestures to the space where he was sitting, but I don’t miss the way his eyes run down my form. I want him to do it again. But his voice holds no hint of that. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Very, thank you.”

  Malakai grins. “I hope so. We have the best beds here.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Solomon roll his eyes. I laugh. “It was very comfortable.”

  “Would you like something to eat?” Malakai asks.

  I shake my head. “I’m all right, thank you.” I don’t think I could eat right now. I’m nervous, stomach buzzing with it. Throwing up in front of three archangels is not the best way to make a good first impression.

  “We’ve talked about your situation,” Solomon says, taking a sip of something from a mug. “But we still have a few questions.”

  When I imagined the High Trinity, this isn’t what I pictured. Most angels I’ve seen wear normal clothing, with the exception of armor. But for some reason when I envisioned the high Trinity of Asterium I envisioned the traditional biblical clothing. Robes and flowing fabric. Not...this. Solomon is wearing a soft sweater and slacks. For all the world, he could be an Italian man sitting in San Marco’s Square enjoying his morning coffee—if not for the inhuman beauty and power rolling off of him.

  Malakai looks more casual, in jeans and another loose t-shirt. He has silvery tattoos that band one arm under his medallion. Something I did not notice last night when he was holding me. I shiver at the memory. I want to feel that heat again at the same time I’m questioning the desire. Is it always like this with angels this powerful? Do they hold that same kind of attraction the way succubi do in the Underworld?

  Atlas is somewhere in-between. Not quite as relaxed and not quite so formal. But just...himself. A thin blue henley pushed up to the elbows and black pants.

  “You can ask me anything,” I say to him. “What do you want to know?”

  Solomon considers me, and takes another sip of his coffee. Or at least I think it’s coffee. He stares at me so long that I let myself fidget. Let them think I’m nervous. But I’m not nervous. If anything, I want to pull that stare closer and see how it looks up close. But this girl on the run I’m playing wouldn’t be able to keep up eye contact with an archangel without nerves swimming in her gut.

  Atlas sees my fidgeting and leans on the back of an empty chair. “You can just ask her the questions, Sol. You don’t have to terrify her.”

  Solomon glances at him before uncrossing his legs and leaning forward to put his cup on the table. His stare pins me in place. “How long were you in Tartarus?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “There’s no way to tell...it’s not—there aren’t days. Not like here.” I soften my voice. “It was a long time.”

  “And how did you end up there?”

  I recall a particularly embarrassing training accident from when I was young to help me blush. “I was stupid,” I say. “I was at a bar, saw a guy I thought was hot, and we ended up making out in the back alley. When he invited me back to his apartment, I said yes. I’d never felt anything like it, and I wanted more.” I make my breath catch like it’s a hard thing to remember and cast my eyes down at the ground. “We never made it to his apartment. The next thing I knew I was falling and when I landed...we were there. He was a succubus.”

  Solomon has the grace to look uncomfortable. “And what was your experience like?”

  “Fuck, Sol,” Malakai mutters, “you’re really going to have her tell you every detail of that?”

  I see Solomon’s jaw clench. “Of course I would never cause you undue pain. But I need to know if someone might come after you.”

  I nod, pressing my lips together. “I was passed around,” I say. “Labor during their days and in someone’s bed at night. For the first while. I was taken to the palace at some point—a demon general wanted me. He...had a reputation for going through slaves quickly.

  “But it could have been worse. He had a large group of us that were his. No one else could touch us, and I made myself unremarkable. I made sure that I wasn’t his favorite.”

  In the corner of my vision I see Atlas shudder and close his eyes.

  “How did you escape?” Even Solomon’s voice is gentler after that revelation.

  Twisting my hands together, I stand, making sure my movement makes it clear that I can’t bear to stay sea
ted. “There was some kind of...celebration. Ceremony. I don’t know. Thousands of demons and creatures came for it. Gates were open everywhere. And while it was happening, no one was paying attention to human slaves. I was serving, and just ran into a gate when I turned around a corner. Lucky,” I say, looking at Atlas and echoing his word from last night.

  “It dropped you here?” Atlas asks.

  I nod, pressing my hands to my stomach. “Right into a canal. I thought maybe I could steal some clothes and figure out what to do, but then—a”

  “The demon,” Malakai finishes for me.

  “I guess I was being watched more carefully than I thought,” I say. “He had me. Only left when he felt you.” This time I lock eyes with Malakai.

  Solomon rubs the back of his neck and closes his eyes. The first sign of true strain I’ve seen from him. “Did the demon say anything?”

  I don’t have to fake anything now. The disgust and terror I feel is real, even if the words are not quite true. “He said that he was there to drag my back, but first he wanted his turn. In the palace I was off-limits. But not here.” I wrap my arms around myself, feeling that chill from last night creep in. “He said that he’d find me.”

  “The general,” Atlas says, clearing his throat. “Do you remember anything about him?”

  I walk away from them, to the edge of the floor so I’m inches from plummeting into sand below that fades into the lagoon. For this part of it they cannot see my face. “His name is Telem.”

  The surrounding air goes cold and I swear I hear a crackle in the air. When I turn Solomon is standing, tawny golden wings extended to full length. Light blazes from his hands, and I don’t have to force my shock. Pure starlight that can freeze and burn and blind. “You were Telem’s slave.” It’s not a question, his voice rough and echoing. This is Solomon unleashed from the form in which he usually holds himself. And again I’m reminded of Cassian when he decided to release his strength.

  I reach for that piece of my heart, and test the thread that binds us. It fades into nothing. I can’t feel anything at the end of it. Not when Cassian is so far in another realm. It’s probably for the best.

  “Yes,” I answer him.

  Watching himself regain control is a marvel. Slowly, the wings fade into a golden shimmer and disappear. The platinum light in his hands shuddering as he pulls it back. “You are lucky to be standing where you are.”

  I don’t move an inch. “Why?”

  He doesn’t answer, turning to the others. Malakai shakes his head. “He will come for her if he can sense her.”

  “Or her mind has been shattered and put back together so she can spy for him.”

  Atlas crosses his arms. “You think he’d trust a human with such a task?”

  “Of course he would. Humans are fragile and breakable. They can be molded, and certainly can’t be trusted.”

  Frustration builds in my chest. Not all humans are the same. I would like to show him exactly what kind of human I am, but that’s not what this Arielle would do. I take a step towards the three of them. “He won’t come for me. I’m nothing.”

  Atlas smiles at me kindly. “Telem is not a creature that relinquishes control of anything. If he said that he will take you back to Hell, then he will.”

  “But I am nothing of value—”

  Solomon stalks towards me, and I gasp, taking a step back, barely catching myself on a pillar. He’s in my space, so close that we’re almost touching, and I wish on the infernal flame that fear was the reason that my breath is short.

  It’s not.

  I think I hear one of the other angels protest, but Solomon holds out a hand to silence them. Brown eyes lined with gold are locked on mine, and there’s no chance and hell that I could move even if I wanted to. He has me captive in this moment, and everything in my body is standing at attention. I want him to touch me.

  What the hell is wrong with me? It’s like the thought came out of nowhere. I don’t want my targets. I do what I have to eliminate them. Nothing more. My body doesn’t seem to care about that, nipples going hard under my dress and heat curling downwards as he looks at me. Everything about the two of us would be explosive, and I shove the feelings away with both hands.

  “Nothing of value?” he says softly. “A human who can be trained and broken? Whose memory can be poured through like a sieve for information? A slave who has been allowed to roam the palace of Tartarus and has seen things she may not even remember?” Solomon laughs. “He will come for you, if only to rip you apart.”

  I shrink away from him, the tremor running through me very much real. His face is entirely cold as he steps away. When he speaks, the tone is final. “Bind her so she cannot be sensed. She stays. Until we know the truth. If he’s broken her mind, it will fall apart quickly. And if it doesn’t, your mind will give me everything that you know of hell.”

  He strides out of the space, leaving a vacuum behind him. My whole body is covered in goosebumps, that threat clear in my mind. If he thinks that I’m of sound mind—which I clearly am—he will tear my mind apart himself in order to learn what I know. I have to make them trust me before that happens. Being taken apart by an angel, piece by piece, will not be pleasurable. “What will he do to my mind?”

  Atlas rubs the bridge of his nose. “He will do nothing to it. Like I said last night, we do not invade the minds of humans against their will.”

  “Telem is a soft spot for Sol,” Malakai says. “He will come around. And Atlas and I will not let anyone hurt you.” I rub my arms to get rid of the chills still tingling on my skin, and Malakai comes over to me. “Let’s go back to your room so we can get you taken care of.”

  “What did he mean? About binding me.”

  He grins. “I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  I nod and ignore the twist in my stomach. It may not be as bad as it sounds, but something tells me that this is going to make things way more complicated.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  _______

  I’m biting on my lip. It’s a habit that I thought I’d beaten a long time ago, but true, deep nervousness brings it back. That’s what I feel now. I’ve never heard of angels binding anyone before. Will it be permanent? When I’m done with them, will I be able to leave? What will they do to me now?

  Malakai closes the door behind us, and my arms are still wrapped around myself. I haven’t been able to let go. He blows out a breath. “You know that I’m not going to hurt you, right?”

  I turn to him, lip still trapped between my teeth. It takes me a second to release that. “I do know that, and yet I don’t.”

  “Yeah,” he sighs. “I understand that, given what you’ve been through.” There’s a long table with some decorative flowers on it, and he moves them aside. “Hop up here and we’ll get this over with.”

  “Care to clarify exactly what we’re getting over with?”

  He smiles. “You can’t sense it, but the traces of Tartarus are all over you. For someone who’s looking, it would be like shining a spotlight up into the sky. Even on this island. And we don’t want that kind of attention any more than you do.”

  “So what are you going to do?” I push myself up to sit on the table, my bare feet dangling.

  “We can’t just force those traces out of you,” he says. “You’ve been exposed to them for so long we don’t know what will happen. It could be like withdrawal. So they have to fade on their own. But we can create a barrier.”

  “Sounds like it would be easier if you could just get rid of it.”

  He laughs softly. “That would be easier. Can I touch you?”

  “Yes.”

  He doesn’t right away though, like he’s unsure about it. There’s something both disconcerting and fascinating about seeing an archangel unsure. “I don’t think that Solomon is right. Don’t think you’re a spy. But...”

  “But?” I whisper.

  He looks at me. “But you don’t feel like any other human I’ve met before.”
r />   I ignore the way my heart pounds at those words. I don’t like it. I don’t. “How?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s hard to describe.”

  I try smiling. “I can handle it.”

  Now he reaches out and runs a finger down the inside of my arm. Traces of light zing along my nerves like he’s overloading the circuits in my brain. “You’re not the one I’m concerned about.” Those blue eyes are dark, and I didn’t realize how close we were until just now. My legs relaxed and he’s almost standing between them. I could reach out and grab his hips. Pull him closer. Maybe soon that might work.

  Fuck, how am I going to do this? All I want to do is feel him and fall into the light. Would that be so bad?

  For one glorious moment I let myself imagine it. He is who he is and I am the real me and the only thing that we have to care about is figuring out this invisible force spinning between us. “Yeah,” I say. It’s not adequate. I swallow, trying to find something to say. “Have you met a lot of humans?”

  He glances at me. “A few.”

  I press my lips together to keep from laughing. “So more than a few. I’m sure all the human women swoon over the archangels from Asterium.” The word burns on my lips.

  Malakai smirks. “None of them knew that I was an angel.”

  “I’ll be honest,” I say. “It’s a little weird to think about angels having sex.”

  His fingers are still on my skin, and they trace down to my wrist where he circles it. His hand is large, and more than enough to circle it completely. “Do no harm,” he says.

  I frown. “The Hippocratic oath? For doctors?”

  “Where do you think the doctors got it from? Anything is permitted, as long as we are not intentionally causing a human harm. Even pain can be beneficial sometimes. But we will never cross that line. Which is why Solomon will never take your mind from you.” He smiles, “And why even archangels are free to have sex.”