The Devil You Know (Ceasefire Series Book 1)

by Claire Marta

  “Give me my brother.” I say it more calmly than I feel. All I want is him safe. Away from the danger he’s been dragged into. Guilt lays heavy in my stomach.

  “If you want him you’ll have to give me something in exchange.”

  “What do you want?”

  Another bargain. Yet this time I know it’s going to be something more than a favour or my soul.

  Trukun’s gaze blazes with triumph. “The oracle Cassandra. Give her to me and you’ll have your sibling in exchange. If you don’t comply then we will drain him of his life force and present you with his husk the next time we meet. Use this to summon us when you have her. Wait too long and there won’t be much left of him to save, so don’t waste our time, or yours.” Out of nowhere something round appears in her hand.

  When she tosses it to me, I catch it. A medallion. Round and worn, the metal, with it’s weird symbols, is warm in my hand.

  A hulking male figure emerges from the shadows. Wrapping his muscular arms around them they vanish with Nate before I have time to react.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I’m surprised my knees can still hold me up.

  I should have gone to the hospital like the taxi driver advised. Found medical attention for my face and the gashes along my side I know are still bleeding. But I needed something safe. Something familiar. Home.

  Clicking the door closed, I leave my keys in their usual place in a dish on the cabinet. Shrugging out of my jacket and shoulder holster, which I retrieved on the way out of the club, I wince with pain from the action. Such mundane tasks, but they crack the last of my self-imposed control.

  I slide down the wall until my butt meets my heels. I failed. Fucked up and let them escape. Now any chance of finding my brother again has slipped through my fingers. He’s at the mercy of the succubus mistress and her devious sister. I don’t know where they are. Resting my forehead against my knees, tears burn behind my eyes. Throat thick with emotion.

  The medallion Trukun gave me has been like a weight in my jacket pocket all the way home.

  To save Nate, I have to betray Gabriel, and the side I’ve been fighting for all these years. Cassandra is living in Cease Fire. Right in the heart of a sanctuary I have no wish to

  desecrate. I’m free falling. Terrified for once where this is going to land me. More screwed than I already am.

  “Feeling sorry for yourself?”

  I don’t look up at Lucifer’s sultry voice.

  Whatever he wants I don’t want to play. I’d rather lick my wounds and hide until I’m ready to get back out there. I need a moment to breathe.

  “Get up.”

  “Fuck off. I’m not going back to Hell with you if that’s why you’re here.” I snap back, despising his authoritative tone.

  He’s close. Curling around me, his seductive presence sends goose-bumps over my aching body. It awakens feelings I don’t want to feel.

  “Watch your tone. I’ve warned you about that wayward tongue of yours before.” He barks. “You show respect when talking to me.”

  Raising my chin, I allow him to see the damage I’ve just endured. I know it’s not pretty. Mottled red bruises decorate where I’ve been punched. The angry jagged claw mark from

  the vampire’s attack runs from jawline to just under the right eye. Although the bleeding has slowed it hurts like a bitch. Every time I take a breath the lacerations along my side beneath the sweatshirt throb.

  “I just want you to leave me alone.” I let him see the inner turmoil in my gaze. A frailness I would rather conceal. I’m only human. There’s only so much I can take without cracking even if I am a kick arse assassin.

  Looking sexy in a grey tailored Armani suit that showcases his perfectly muscled physique, his size dominates the hallway. From the dampness of his short black tousled hair, it looks as if he’s come straight from a shower. For once, it’s not slicked back into smoothness.

  This is the suave sophisticated version of the Devil I fell head over heels for when I thought he was someone else. It still hurts that he tricked me.

  Eyes narrowing, his brows dip down in a dark brooding mood. “That’s never going to happen, Flower.”

  “I don’t like what you do to me. What you’ve unleashed inside. Don’t think I’m not aware of how you’re somehow feeding my darkness. I may have angelic powers, but I can still feel it.”

  “Without darkness light would not exist. The same can be said of Good and Evil.”

  My bruised and bloodied knuckles clench where they’re resting on my knees. “I had control before you.”

  “You had the illusion of control.” He states calmly back. “You’ve always been a loaded gun ready to go off.”

  I want to smash him into bits just like he’s done to me. I’ve been robbed of everything stable. Was he relishing every moment? Revelling in my misery?

  “I killed tonight. Cut them down and didn’t care if any of them were innocent or not. I crossed a line and I fucking enjoyed it.” I tell him in a whisper. “I shouldn’t, but I did. I’m becoming something I don’t want to be. A monster without a conscious. It’s stealing my humanity.”

  I’ve become Lucifer’s instrument of revenge.

  His obsession.

  I’m beyond redemption.

  I’m irredeemable.

  Gabriel and all of Gods angels won’t want me back now.

  He doesn’t seem surprised. Maybe that fucker Raziel told him what happened after he disappeared so quickly. Or maybe this was another one of his artful deceptions.

  “You followed your natural instincts. You’re a weapon and weapons don’t weep. Now get up.” His words are harsh.

  They slice through my being, taunting me.

  “I’m not in the mood for mind games, so fucking leave me be. Go make nice with Trukun. Wasn’t she your last mistress?” I say, throwing him a bit of venom in my voice. “Why don’t you go and fuck with her instead.”

  Irises swallowed by demonic red, his lips peel back, showing off his perfect white teeth in a parody of a grin. “As whores go she was very skilled at what she could do. It was the reason I kept her in my bed so long. Now get the fuck up as your Master instructs.”

  My anger is so swift I can’t contain it. This is his fault. He’s the reason I’m in this mess. The one who entangled me in this web of corruption and deceit.

  “I’m not a fucking pet. You can’t come here and start ordering me around.”

  I want him gone. He’s polluting my refuge. Wearing my already taut nerves thin, stretching them further than they are willing to go.

  I feel an odd shifting in my bones.

  Shadows seep from every corner of my flat. Swarming malevolently around him, Lucifer seems to grow in force and size. The light from the corridor is sucked away. Expiring like an

  extinguished star. Mesmerized, I watch him bending and sculpting the space around him at will.

  Reality falls away. The next thing I know we’re back in the white marble bedroom in his winter palace in Hell.

  Snatching me by the hair, he drags me forcefully along the polished floor.

  “Let me go, you son of a bitch.” I hiss, eyes watering with pain as I dig fingernails into his wrists, trying to escape his hold.

  Unceremoniously, he sweeps me up before dumping me on the mattress of the huge bed.

  Landing on my stomach with an oomph, I scramble for freedom. As I move, adrenaline dulls the agony that zooms through me from my injuries.

  A weight pins me down. Panting, trying to stifle a groan, his cock twitches against my arse.

  “You must be suffering exquisitely.” The raspy way he speaks in my ear has the heat of arousal pulsing between my legs. “Your skin has been shredded, leaving you raw, hurting, but still you won’t submit, my thorny little rose.”

  Flipping me over, he stares down mercilessly with intent.

  Looping his tie around my wrists, he binds them together, before securing it to the head board.

  Screaming and
kicking, I aim for his nuts.

  That just earns me a cruel laugh. “I’m going to fuck this tight cunt until you come all over my cock.”

  I take in his form as he slips out of his clothes. Muscles hard and perfectly flawless.

  My body responds to the sight of his nakedness, softening, preparing for his taking. I can already feel the wetness dripping out of me that his filthy mouth always excites.

  He devours me with his eyes as he sheds the last of his garments.

  Lethally, he approaches the bed.

  Beyond reason, I can’t stop myself yearning for his touch. Desperate for the tempest of desire only he can unleash.

  With confident hands, he strips me of my trainers, jeans, and panties.

  Hissing, twisting, I try desperately to fight him off, blurring the sensations of pleasure and pain.

  Leaving my upper half covered, he surveys me with a fathomless look.

  Breathing hard, I feel blood trickle from the deep lacerations to my right side. Three gashes. Crimson smears the smoothness of the skin, painting it in a tale of anguish. Head swimming

  with a bout of light-headedness, I rest my head back in a gesture of defeat.

  I can’t beat him. Maybe this time he’ll kill me while he fucks me. Purge the pain away. Send me to oblivion.

  His palm slaps down across my pussy lips. It stings. Gasping in surprise, I’m caught off guard by the stab of pleasure that ripples through my abdomen.

  “You like that, don’t you, Flower? You’re going to pay for your disobedience.”

  He has more than my soul captive and he doesn’t even realise it. I love him, and hate him, in equal measures. My tormentor.

  I am nothing but a slave to his lust. A hostage to his sinful passion. Chest tightening with unspoken emotions, I close my eyes.

  The mattress dips. A firm muscled frame presses into my side. Squeezing my thighs together, doesn’t ease the ache, it multiplies hungrily into chaos.

  Ghosting a fingertip, he outlines my lips.

  I flinch, waiting for him to inflict his chosen punishment.

  Gently, a tongue snakes over the bloodied ruined skin of my cheek, caressing the claw mark. A primitive gesture that makes me shiver in excitement and disgust.

  “Mavi, you’re a survivor. Resilient. Strong. You adapt. You’ll shine brighter after every trial, after every truth has come to light. In that, I have no doubt.” His words are soft, but sure.

  Opening my eyes, I stare up into his breath-taking face. Something inside me melts. How can he change as quickly as a stormy sea? He has the power to turn me upside down.

  Taking my ankles, he spreads my thighs wide. Using his knees, he keeps them apart.

  Like a primal force he surges into me in one magnificent hard thrust.

  “Fuck.” I manage to croak with an instant jolt of pleasure.

  Somehow, he rubs every sensitive spot inside me with each sure stroke of his cock.

  Rational thought vanishes. It’s the cruellest bliss.

  “I’m going to fill this pussy up with cum. Over and over, until you no longer know Heaven from Hell.” Increasing his tempo, he pumps into me with such determination it sends a spasm through my slick core.

  Everything begins to build, seducing me further with a need I don’t understand. Losing reason, I give myself up in sheer abandonment, meeting his rhythm.

  Blood discolours his stomach. Mine, from the wounds that are now bleeding more freely in rivulets of crimson. I barely feel the pain. It’s swept away with the intensity of pleasure.

  He slips out mid thrust. Whimpering, I writhe below him in frustrated confusion.

  Coming back, his cockhead slides between my pussy lips making me moan with the sensation.

  “You want it. You beg for it.”

  “Please.” Raising my hips, I try to pull him back in as he teases at the entrance. “I want your cock. Give it to me. Please, don’t stop.”

  “Please what?” He coaxes, rubbing his shaft across my clit again.

  I can feel myself teetering on the edge, ready to convulse into orgasm at any second. “Please, Master, fuck me.” Clenching the binding imprisoning my wrists, I whine.

  With a chuckle, Lucifer rams back into me.

  Just the barest friction has me coming so intensely I almost black out.

  “Who’s my greedy little slut?” He asks, fucking me harder.

  “Me.” It’s a sob. He’s breaking me apart and putting me back together again.

  Body tensing, his head tips back, eyes half closed as he spills his life essence inside me.

  Breathing erratically, I accept his weight when he slumps.

  “You can never get enough of my cock, can you? Can never resist, you dirty whore. My whore.” He pants against my ear. Lips gently brush my cheek.

  For a brief moment, I bask in the affection of his tone, although the words are crude. It makes me glaringly aware of the connection that still tethers me to him. Burying my face in his neck, I kiss the warm skin lovingly in surrender to his dominance.

  Lucifer tenses.

  Warmth cocoons me as the mattress dissolves. An orgy of supple flesh awaits. Seeking lips and hands caress eagerly over my limbs. Worshipping, they fondle and massage their way to my tits, shedding my sweatshirt, creeping between my thighs, groping and penetrating. They paw at the gashes in my side. Making me scream and jerk from the pain.

  “Fuck her mouth and her arse until you’re done with her.” He tells his minions, expression and voice void of emotion. Like wisps of smoke, he fades from my vision, leaving me bound and at the mercy of their lustful attentions.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Blinking slowly, I come to. For a moment, I’m not sure where I am. Light filtering in through the cream curtains in my bedroom announces it’s still early. Stretching, I’m instantly aware there’s no feeling of pain or soreness. Tucked naked beneath the snugly warmth of my green duvet, there’s nothing but a blissful sensation of contentment.

  Memories slowly sift through my head. The club, Nathan, and the Devil taking me back to Hell.

  But this isn’t Hell. What the fuck am I doing here? The last thing I remember is him abandoning me to be fucked six ways to Sunday.

  Nothing makes senses. Why come to me if he has no intention of keeping me with him after all the threats? Emotions a messy jumble, it makes my heart ache. He leaves a maze of endless questions.

  He’s tainted my heart. But it’s something I can never allow him to know because in his hands he would destroy it. He’d pry it apart. Leave me gasping for air right before he’d crush it.

  Only a fool would fall for the Devil and let him know it.

  Exploring my side gingerly, an expanse of unblemished skin meets my curious touch. Shoving back the blanket, I stare in awe. I’m healed. No evidence remains of the brutality of the evening before. Almost as if the whole thing had never happened.

  Sitting up, I recognize the clump of tattered material on the floor. My sweatshirt. Jacket. Beside it in a crumpled pile are my jeans and trainers. Panties missing, I’m guessing Lucifer kept those. I’ve noticed he seems to have an underwear fetish.

  Crawling off the bed, I snatch up a robe.

  Searching through the jacket, I find the medallion Trukun gave me. It’s still warm to the touch. Seems to have a heat source of its own.

  Leaving it safely on my beside table, I go in search of coffee.

  I need to get my shit together. Need to beat Talia and Trukun at their own game to save my brother.

  Raking a hand through my long black hair, I busy myself with the task of making breakfast.

  Getting my arse to Cease Fire is my first problem. When I do, I won’t be able to draw too much attention. Then it’s a matter of finding out where Cassandra is being kept.

  The last time I saw her she was barely lucid. A victim of the visions she can’t control. Rescuing her was the beginning of this epic cluster fuck.

  Taking a sip of coffee, I sigh. I’m going to need
help. I’m loathed to get my team involved, but without them I’m screwed.

  Dulcet tones of the doorbell chiming distract me from my thoughts.

  Finding the pistol I leave in the kitchen drawer, I tiptoe to answer it. Paranoia has me edgy. I’m not expecting anyone. I doubt Lucifer would use the bell. As for everyone else, no one knows I’m here.

  Peeking through the keyhole I’m blinded by the sight of a neon pink. Leo. Shit.

  Shoulders slumping, I open the door.

  “Puddin’, we’ve been so worried about you! Caesar told me Gabriel took your crazy arse to Hell.” Leo cries dramatically as he sweeps into the corridor. Two days worth of stubble dusts his jaw. Short, dark blonde hair in their usual mess, he focuses on me with blood shot eyes, face flushed pink. Swaying slightly, in tight white jeans that show off his skinny arse, his t-shirt is so loud and bright it’s hard on the eyeballs.

  He’s been drinking. I’m starting to realise he can’t function when sober.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, stepping back, so he doesn’t fall into me.

  “We got an anonymous text saying you were home.” Caesar explains, as he troops in after Leo. “What happened? How did you get back?” Tartan cap perched on his head in its usual place, I can see the worry in his green eyes which are the only feature visible through the mass of his course hairy beard and lanky mane. Heavy set frame in black trousers and a striped sweatshirt, it looks like he’s come straight from home.

  Closing the door behind them with a click, I lead them to the kitchen. “A fallen angel named Raziel gave me a lift.”

  “What was the charge?” Caesar questions shrewdly. We both know nothing is done for free when dealing with the other side. Everything comes with a price.

  “A favour, but it’s been paid. The bad news is the Devil didn’t have my brother. Trukun, one of his ex-commanders does, and she’s a real bitch.”

  Opening a cupboard, I find two more cups. Automatically I spoon instant coffee into both switching the kettle back on to boil. Instant is all I have and it will have to do.

  “Does Gabriel know?”