When conventional means fail use magic. A shit ton of it. I lifted my hand and flicked my fingers and a glittery breeze engulfed me. It was warm and familiar. A giggle escaped my lips and I flicked my fingers three more time. Glitter spun wildly around me. The temptation to bask in the beautiful peach and rose colored magic was tempting, but I had places to be and Demon ass to kick. I just didn’t know which Demon. No time like the present to find out. With one more flick, I transported back to the dining room.
Chapter 26
Welcome to Hell.
The dining room looked like the aftermath of a hurricane. Everything was still in motion so it was problematic getting my bearings. Violent winds swept the room. Debris and Demons were flying. Muffled screams and grunts assaulted my ears. The dust and glitter made seeing almost impossible, but there was a wall—a clear crystal wall. It stretched from one end of the room to the other and literally oozed magic. Iridescent goop dripped down the smooth facade, slightly blurring what lay beyond. The Guards and guests were on the opposite side from where I stood. Small fires from the candles burned and licked up the curtains and smoldered in the carpets. The Demons clutched at the walls to keep from being blown around and burned to death. The storm was far more violent on their side. The only immortals left standing were Satan, Ethan and Dixie. I tried to communicate with Ethan, but the wall blocked my magic. Whoever erected this sucker had some major mojo going on . . . The fury on the Devil’s face at being helpless was like nothing I’d ever seen—beautiful, raw and horrifying.
What was happening? And why was I on the side where nothing was exploding?
“I should have given you more credit,” a disembodied female voice hissed. I shuddered involuntarily at the malice in the voice. “I didn’t think you’d make it back for the show.”
Wrath? I whirled around and backed away. She was magnificent. Swirling gold and amber tattoos covered her pale skin and morphed from shape to shape. Her blonde hair flew wildly on her head and her gown billowed around her. She embodied her name.
In one hand she held Amanda. The consort was bloody and beaten and trembled with fear. In the other she held the Sword. Fucking awesome.
“You do that, you’re gonna die,” I said calmly, even though my insides roiled. She was strong and by the looks of it, insane.
“My father will never kill me. And you can’t.” She laughed manically and eased the Sword closer to Amanda’s neck. “Only one prick—one touch of the blade and any immortal dies,” she whispered as Amanda whimpered. “Just one and the whore dies.”
Get her monologuing . . . bad guys love to tell you how bad they are. A few minutes—even seconds would give me time to think. Wrath had humongous balls to think she could get away with this. Everybody who was anybody in Hell had front fucking row seats. I refused to turn and look. One, I didn’t want to see the worry on Ethan’s face and two, I wasn’t about to take my eyes off Psycho Cousin. Unsure if she’d actually kill Amanda, I was fully aware I could kill her even if she wasn’t. I fingered the stone at my neck, she was meant to rule . . . I didn’t want to use it and hoped she would make me.
“But the baby’s not his,” I pointed out hoping she’d forgotten that possibility.
“Probably not,” she agreed and tightened her grip on Amanda’s hair. “This is precautionary. A just in case.”
The tattoos shimmered as her crazy increased. The glare off her skin intensified. I squinted and kept my eyes on her face.
“So, how’s this gonna work?” I asked.
Wrath rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. “As attractive as I find you, Astrid, your stupidity is beginning to bore me. I am over a thousand years old, and some little hussy will not blow out a boy and take my birthright. It’s quite simple. She dies and her child dies with her. Daddy won’t retire for hundreds of years and I’ll be forgiven by then. Done. Get it?”
“Why the Sword? Why don’t you just kill her with magic or your hands?” Amanda moaned with despair.
“Nice of you to notice. I wanted to show all the Demons in Hell how magnificent I was and thought it would be a fun touch.”
Deranged didn’t even begin to describe her . . .
“Demons aren’t allowed to kill,” I reminded her.
“You bought that bullshit?” She cackled and my anger rose. “Of course we can kill. True Immortals are allowed to kill. Did Daddy leave that out of your lessons? Satan has blood on his hands,” she snapped. “Why do you think he’s in Hell?”
That was a surprise, but her logic was faulty. “You’re not a True Immortal.”
“Not yet, but there are three more unknowns and I plan to be one of them.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, cousin, but good luck with that. Now, I’m going to ask nicely, mostly because I like my dress and getting into it with you might fuck it up . . . drop the Sword and let Amanda go.”
“Who do you think you are?” she screamed. “You are nothing. A Vampyre hybrid—a wannabe Demon. I am Wrath and I can destroy you.”
“Blah blah blah,” I muttered. Her eyes widened in shock and I bit back my inappropriate laughter.
“What did you say?” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“I said blah. Blah. Blah.” I smiled and watched her unravel.
“You,” she hissed and dropped Amanda to the floor. Turning quickly she shot a spell at her. Amanda froze in a grimace of pain so awful, I felt myself viscerally react. I didn’t like her, but she was pregnant and for the most part innocent. Being a bitch was not a crime to die for. This was not gonna happen on my clock. She and her unborn child didn’t deserve death at Wrath’s hand.
“You are scum,” she spat at me. “You come from scum.” Her hair whipped with wild abandon around her face and the tattoos raced even faster on her skin. The effect was dizzying. “Your mother was a whore. A greedy whore who traded her soul for power. That certainly ended up working out well for her, didn’t it? She’s looking a little worse for wear down there in the Basement. I do find it sweet that you still want her love.” Her laugh made my teeth grind. My fangs descended and I knew my eyes glowed green with rage.
An acid-like burning started low in my gut and raced through my veins like fire. I sucked in a painful breath and finally accepted the darkness I’d avoided. It was liberating and frightening. I had no time to wonder if I was making a fundamental change in my chemistry. Honestly, it no longer mattered. I was what I was.
I eyed the lunatic Sword brandishing woman in front of me with rage. Wrath had been correct about my mother, but she was also deadly wrong. Yes, my mother’s choices had been motivated by greed, but she’d been a mere child when my father got to her. Her free will had been destroyed by methodical abuse over lifetimes.
My body jerked forward as my Vampyre tried to reject what was happening to me, but I pushed her down. My hatred was consuming me and I let it.
“And your father,” she hissed. “He was an imbecile. A stupid, stupid nothing. What could we possibly expect from you? You come from shit.”
The blood roaring in my ears blocked all sound. Her lips moved, but I no longer had any desire to hear what she said.
It wasn’t slow and it wasn’t gentle. I called for the darkness and it came. I had control. I briefly closed my eyes and let the magic consume me. It was no longer just gloves. It was me—all of me. My skin was covered in a fine black glitter. I sparkled and vibrated with power from head to toe. Wrath’s eyes rounded in fear and she took a step back. She was no longer the big, strong, evil bad guy . . . I was.
“What are you?” She pointed the Sword at me and took yet another step back.
“I’m the nothing that’s going to take your Demon ass out.”
Her scream was reminiscent of a battle cry and she came at me with a vengeance. It was too quick to call a spell and my body went into action like it had been trained to do. With Vampyre speed and Demon aggression, I back flipped out of her line of fire. As she turned, I cartwheeled and caug
ht her by the neck in a scissor hold and knocked her to the ground. Her shock at my skill was all the time I needed. Her body hit the floor with a sickening thud and I rolled away as she shot a blast of lava hot voodoo at me.
She was back up and she was pissed, but I was done. Totally done. No more roughhousing. I had a baby to think about. I chanted as her eyes grew wide again. I pointed at her and she roared before my power even touched her. As if in slow motion, I watched a shower of black and crystal white magic flow into her. She dropped the Sword and fell to the ground. Her body convulsed and fluid began to gush from her nose and mouth. She was dying and I watched her dispassionately. I was happy.
Glancing up, I locked eyes with a horrified Amanda and I was jerked back into me. The real me. What the hell was I doing? I pulled back on the magic and Wrath’s breathing resumed—erratically, but it resumed. The relief that I hadn’t killed her was staggering. Would I have done it if I hadn’t made contact with Amanda? Did it matter? I had made contact with Amanda and I stopped. Everything happens for a reason. Amanda was here to stop me and I was here to save her.
“Kill me,” Wrath choked out. “Finish it.”
“No,” I said as I picked up the Sword.
“I will have nothing—no respect. They will laugh at me. I will have nothing.” She sobbed at my feet and I gave her a smile that came nowhere near reaching my eyes.
“We can start a club. The Nothing Club. I’ll be the president and you can be the treasurer. It will be fun.” I raised my hands in the air and knocked down the wall dividing the room. Demons raced forward and threw what I assumed were magic blocking chains and ropes on Wrath. Satan went to Amanda and held her lovingly in his arms. I couldn’t make out what he whispered to her, but she gave him a weak smile.
“Cole, take Amanda to my suites and have the women attend to her,” he barked.
“Yes, my liege.” Cole picked up a damaged but alive Amanda and took her away.
“Wait,” she said as they passed me. “I don’t know what you are . . . but thank you.”
I nodded and felt strong arms embrace me from behind. “I could kill you,” he whispered.
“Yep,” I said as I leaned back into him. “I figured. Am I still all black and sparkly?”
“You are.”
“Does that bother you?” I asked. My stomach knotted as I waited for his response.
“I actually think it’s kind of hot,” he whispered in my ear. Little chills ran down my spine and tears of relief pooled in my eyes.
Satan paced the floor in front of the disgraced Wrath and the crowd held its breath. The other Sins stood off to the side and watched with morbid excitement. All of them had enjoyed the show except Dixie. She stood away from them and trembled with fury.
“Things like this make me wish I’d had a vasectomy,” Satan bellowed. “This is embarrassing and unacceptable.” He turned to me and his gaze narrowed. “Why did you stop? Why didn’t you kill her?” he demanded. An anguished cry ripped from Wrath’s throat, but I had no sympathy left for her. She already received my mercy and I wasn’t about to kowtow to the Devil. I was pissed at all of them.
“She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t kill anyone. And I’m not the judge of those who should die.” I picked up the Sword and handed it to him. “Here’s your damn Sword. I want to go home.”
He turned so quickly I wasn’t sure I was seeing things correctly. He touched blade to Wrath’s skin and slit a small wound. The gasps and cries from the Sins made my blood chill. Why would he do that?
“It’s a fake,” he said and dropped it to the ground.
It took a minute for me to find my voice. “Did you know that?” I yelled. “Or was that a test?”
He smiled his beautiful smile and shrugged. Was he for freakin’ real?
“We have a deal. That sword was a fake. You will leave when your job has been completed.”
Chapter 27
We were stuck. No one from the dinner party was leaving the Dark Palace until after God’s visit. Most of the Demons had no clue why we were quarantined, but I knew. The Sword—the stupid Sword of Death. Satan was sure it was in the palace and he was taking no chances. The majority of Demons still believed the Sword to be a myth. As they grumbled and made their way unwillingly to their guestrooms they made that fact abundantly clear.
“I can sense it’s here,” Satan said as he paced the destroyed dining room and assessed the damage.
“Can you sense that I’m totally over this?” I muttered and pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose only to realize my sparkly skin had reverted back to normal pale Vampyre chic.
My uncle threw back his head and laughed. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“I wasn’t exactly joking,” I huffed.
He bent down and picked up a shard of glass that was at one point an exquisite crystal vase. He expelled a sigh and shook his head. “I’ve spoiled them rotten,” he mumbled. “It’s time for me to retire for the evening. I’m sure you’ll find your accommodations satisfactory.”
“Why me?”
“Pardon?”
“Why me? Why not have Cole or the Guards find the Sword?”
He played with the fragment of crystal in his hand. It caught the light from a chandelier that had miraculously weathered the storm and cast brilliant dots of color on the wall. “Because you’re blood. I don’t trust anyone but blood at this point. Besides, most of them don’t believe the Sword exists.”
“Does it?” I asked.
“Does it what?”
“Does the Sword really exist?”
He took my face in his hands and I leaned in, mesmerized by him. Ethan stiffened beside me but stayed quiet. “Indeed it does and if it’s not found . . . ”
“I know,” I said.
His hand dropped down to my stomach and he gently placed it on my slightly rounded belly. “If the Sword is not found it will put the life of this child in peril.”
“That sounds like a threat,” Ethan said softly with an edge that made me uneasy. Neither one of us stood a chance against the Devil—at least I didn’t think we did.
“Not a threat. It simply is. The child you carry is special.”
“And by that you would mean?” I asked.
“Exactly what I said.”
Son of a bitch, my child was special enough with his Vampyre-Demon heritage. He did not need any more special.
His hands left my body and I felt strangely bereft—sad. He was a link to my father no matter how I felt about my parentage. I wanted him to want me like a daughter. Wait. WTF? I wanted the Devil to be my daddy? Heaven and Hell help me . . . I needed some therapy.
My uncle considered me for a moment and I wondered if he knew what I’d been thinking. “I find it interesting you didn’t kill her when you have the power to do so.”
“A killing machine with compassion is always such a big hit at parties,” I quipped. I didn’t want him to know that I might have destroyed her if it hadn’t been for Puffy Lips. I didn’t want to deal with that fact about myself yet.
“Ah yes, compassion . . . that pesky little habit.” He smiled and then turned to go.
“Will what she did affect her claim to the throne?” I asked
He paused and turned back. “No. Her behavior tonight will have no bearing on whether or not she succeeds me.”
“Will having a son affect it?”
“Possibly.” He nodded. “But probably not. In the end–and mind you, the end is many thousands of years away—it will not be up to me who shall succeed me.”
“Who will choose?” He was a ball of cryptic and I expected no answer.
“You, Astrid. You will choose.”
With that, he disappeared in a cloud of black glitter and smoke. I fell back into Ethan’s arms and sucked in a huge breath.
“I didn’t want to know that,” I whispered and bent over at the waist so I didn’t hyperventilate. “I’m going to stop asking questions.”
“Quite honestly,” Ethan repli
ed, as shocked as I was. “I think that’s a fine idea.”
***
I was right back where I started when I arrived in Hell. The same room with the same predictably cheesy black silk sheets—only this time I knew exactly where I was, the walls were silent and I was with the man I loved.
“Ethan I . . . ”
“Astrid, stop. The answer is I don’t know. The only good thing to come out of that conversation is the very likely fact that you will be around thousands of years from now. Everything else was alarming to put it mildly.”
“I don’t want that job,” I whispered as I tried to pull the thigh high boots off my tired legs.
“Let me help,” he said and unzipped my dress.
“What about my boots?” I whined as he slipped my dress over my head and tossed it on the floor.
“You’re going to leave those on.”
“I am?”
“You are.”
Tilting my head to the side and batting my lashes, I feigned a huge yawn. “It will be awfully uncomfortable sleeping in stiletto boots.”
“You won’t be sleeping,” he said and removed his coat and dress shirt. Ignoring me, he stripped off the rest of his clothing. My mouth went dry and my lady parts began to sing. The hard planes and edges of his body made me dizzy. A crooked half grin pulled at his lips. My breath caught in my throat and I grabbed the bedpost for balance. I smiled and began to back away from him. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Angel. A game you won’t win.”
“Who says I want to win?” I continued to move farther away and he continued to stalk me. I was in danger of my knees buckling from sheer excitement and the look in his eyes. His erection lay flat on his stomach and his body was a perfect male sculpture come to life. He was the predator and I was his prey. A shimmer of panic and lust settled in my loins and I wet my lips with my tongue. His eyes darted to the movement and I realized the predator could be distracted . . .
Putting more distance between us, I ran my hands over my breasts and pinched my achingly hard nipples. My breasts had become tender with pregnancy and even more sensitive to touch. I hissed out a sound of pleasure and watched his eyes dilate and burn a beautiful green. He was no longer playing a game . . . it had turned serious. I stared at the lines of his sleek naked body and my heart bounced around in my chest. His muscled torso and biceps were the things dreams were made of. Someone as beautiful as he was should not exist.
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