by Cate Masters
Hadn’t they heard that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions?
New rule number two: if something seemed too good to be true, it was probably something devised by her family in the Underworld.
New rule number three: all the old rules no longer applied. The new rule was: anything goes.
Yeah, she’d remember it. No problem.
***
Heaven hath no fury…
Bodie revved the Harley and popped the clutch, worry clouding his mind. No sooner had he finished making love to Lily than the order manifested in his mind. Return. Now.
Not the most gracious invitation. Blunt, terse and cryptic.
Better take a shortcut. He steered the bike into an alley and accelerated. The Harley cut the air in a prism of blurred color, and in a brilliant flash, he crossed the threshold to the other side.
More affectionately called The Neutral Zone by its inhabitants, The Nether Realm grew more crowded every time Bodie used it. Lost souls wandered its corridors amid beings from the Underworld and above. When not in a rush, Bodie sometimes came here. The anonymity, the casualness appealed to him as much as the nondenominational, nonjudgmental atmosphere. An angel could be his true self here.
Unfortunately, so could a demon. It sometimes made for an unstable environment, but its very unpredictability appealed to him on a certain level, too.
It was one of the places he’d planned to show Lily; he knew where her mother and father lived. Like others who’d strayed, they made their home in this place. Not exactly outcasts, though neither side would welcome them with open arms. A place where he and Lily might live together, if not on Earth.
He had much to make up to her, after leaving her so abruptly. Her anger had flared with such intensity, it seared into his consciousness.
Spurring the bike toward the spiraling central road, he aimed it upward.
I’ll explain it all, love. If she returned from the Underworld. And if she’d speak to him. And if they didn’t reassign him for his transgression.
Too many if’s. Bodie dealt in sureties. All these uncertainties left him second-guessing himself, a dangerous prospect in light of what he faced. He knew protecting Lily would lead to a battle against Hades, the most unpredictable enemy of all. The Prince of Darkness wouldn’t hesitate to delight in Bodie’s destruction, likely drawn out for maximum torture.
He’d risk it for her.
The Gate rose in ornate splendor. Jaded humans of today would call it a PR gimmick, its gold gleaming with the promise of an eternity worth waiting for, hinting of reward for all their mortal sacrifices. Partly true, though Bodie valued its beauty for the integrity it represented.
No time to wait for the immense wall of gold to allow him inside. Bodie headed for the rear entrance, reserved for immortals in no need of judgment.
Once he crossed the bridge, he parked the Harley and hurried inside. Normally he’d stop at the kitchen and chat, catch up on what happened while he was away. Not today. He didn’t dare keep his superior waiting.
A maze of wide hallways lead in all directions. Bodie hastened to his supervisor’s office in the business wing and entered.
Across the expanse of white mist, a panel of archangels sat in waiting.
A tribunal.
They know.
He’d never experienced panic, but it must be what he’d felt, more for her than for him. If they stripped him of his power, how would he help her?
“Approach, Bodiel.”
He summoned his dignity and strode to face the angels occupying the long table, the Ruling Princes of Thrones, one of the Nine Celestial Orders of ruling princes. Orifiel, Zaphkiel, Jophiel, and Raziel – among the most powerful angels in the Seven Heavens. Their presence alone was enough to shake a lesser angel’s confidence. Their solemnity signaled that something grim awaited.
Raziel spoke. “Bodiel, Ruling Prince of the Sixth Heaven, Guardian Angel of Heaven and Earth.”
Pomp and circumstance always put Bodie off, but he nodded.
Orifiel said, “You have crossed the realm onto Earth many times recently.”
“I have. As you know, Lily MacInnis has come of age. Those in the Underworld seek to claim her, despite knowing full well her father is the angel Zacharel.”
Jophiel asked, “Why involve yourself?”
“As one of the Throne Angels, it is my duty to enlighten and teach those on Earth. Lily MacInnis is no ordinary mortal, and our celestial hierarchy depends on preserving the integrity of –”
“Balderdash,” Zaphkiel said. “What happens to the girl is of no consequence to us.”
How could they say that? “She is of our descent.”
Raziel asked, “Is that why your interest has taken such a personal turn?”
“No, sir.”
Orifiel asked, “Do you believe yourself honorable? Particularly in light of your most recent actions?”
“No, sir.” He spoke more quietly.
Jophiel asked, “Is there any reason you should continue with this mission?”
“Yes. The girl trusts me. My familiarity with the details of the case –”
Zaphkiel said, “Anyone could come up to speed on the facts. Have you adhered to the usual guidelines?”
Of course they’re already aware of every detail. All he could do was answer truthfully and hope they wouldn’t condemn him to utter destruction. “No.” No point adding his overriding drive to protect her. They knew it was tainted, a flimsy excuse to be near her.
Raziel signaled the guards, who fluttered up behind Bodie and landed on either side. “Escort Bodiel to his chamber.”
Bodie stepped forward. “My lords, I must be ready –”
Orifiel held up his hand. “You must wait for our decision. You’ll have it when we arrive at one.”
Bodie bowed, a curt gesture that spoke of his impatience. Not that any of them cared. No sense of urgency plagued them, nor would it factor into any decision.
He had no doubt sending him away was a tactic to punish him. They’d arrived at their decision, all right. Their cold stares said it all. He was doomed.
***
The limo came out of nowhere. Lily looked out her window onto an empty street, and in the next moment, there it sat, a black so highly polished it magnified every speck of light.
Ironic, when it came from the darkness of the Underworld. Unless it served as some type of protection, reflecting away any light it encountered.
Now you’re getting weird. Right, now was not the time to invent such fantasies. She’d freak herself out and abandon the idea of visiting the Underworld.
One last quick visual inspection, and she grabbed her jacket and purse, though she’d probably need neither.
At the landing, her stomach flip-flopped and she halted as the driver rounded the back of the limo to open the door. Her muscles slackened at seeing the perky young woman in uniform who beamed a dutiful smile at her. At least she has a face. Nothing like last time.
All the same, Lily had no urge to get chummy with the driver. Another demon, no doubt, and friendly faces held no comfort. In fact, for all Lily knew, this driver might represent a greater danger than the last.
Yep, remember the new rules, and make them standard operating procedure.
She climbed in, and the driver did likewise. When the mini-bar popped open, Lily shoved it back inside with a cheery ‘no thank you’. This time, she’d keep her head on straight.
The streets soon grew unfamiliar, and the limo again pulled up outside the same brownstone. Lily abandoned the notion to ask what city they were in. Maybe it was best not to know.
The lobby appeared the same, everything too perfect, and not a soul in sight. She crossed to the elevator and pushed the button. The doors opened immediately; no big surprise. They were waiting. She could feel it.
On the ride upward, she studied the inside of the car. Nothing out of the ordinary caught her eye. What will I see if I touch the pendant? She reached up, but the car rock
ed to a halt and the doors shot open.
Oh man. An immense table curved in a U shape, set for a huge crowd. Lily muttered on a sigh, “I was hoping not to have to meet all the Underworld’s residents the first night.” Yet there they all were, sipping cocktails and making small talk.
Persephone glided toward her, her gown flowing behind. A gorgeous fabric, its color resembled the last remnant of twilight before deep night set in. The bodice clung to her every curve and moved with her like a second skin, contrasting the filmy flow of the long skirt. Nothing short of a knockout, and it would be difficult to think of her as “great grandmom.”
“Darling, you’re here.” Persephone gathered Lily into her arms.
“Thanks for having me.” I’ll try not to make an ass of myself this time.
“Don’t you dare thank me.” Persephone linked arms and tugged Lily into the hall. “It’s your home, Lily. You need no invitation.” She beamed at Hades. In a charcoal suit, he was stunning, darkly handsome in a mesmerizing way. No wonder Persephone fell for him.
“Welcome back, Lily.” Hades sent a scant look at his wife, as if checking for her approval. Maybe she’d coached him on what to say. He certainly seemed more subdued this time.
Lily stopped herself from thanking him. “Glad to be here.”
Her breath caught when Zeveriah slipped through the crowd and approached. Was it the lighting? Or had everyone worked with a stylist before coming tonight? Their fashion-model looks made her feel plain.
Zev, in particular, looked more strikingly handsome than Lily remembered.
“You’re getting lovelier every time I see you.” He bowed and kissed her hand, and his lips might have been a Taser. The jolt carried electricity across her skin, and rattled her to the bone.
Are you crazy? Or do you need a reminder? One touch of the pendant and he’d morph into a grotesque creature. Best not to go there; not yet, at least.
She withdrew from his grasp, the distinct feel of scales beneath her fingers. “Thanks.”
Next, Zev kissed Persephone’s hand. “You’ve outdone yourself again, Lady Persephone. Everything looks so tempting.” His gaze slid to hers.
I’m not on the menu. Lily eased away from him. “Yes, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
“Nonsense, I loved every bit of it. And nothing less than a grand celebration would do for the homecoming of our Lily.”
Lily found it difficult to swallow, literally and figuratively. Homecoming? Was this really her home? Guess that’s what you’re here to find out.
Zev spoke close to her ear. “Would you care for a drink?”
How had he moved so quickly? “Yes.” No! Idiot, what if it’s spiked?
“We have some lovely sangria.” Persephone signaled a server.
Containing some lovely fruit, of course. “My stomach’s a little upset. May I have some plain water?” No lemon, or any other fruit.
If her request disappointed Persephone, she didn’t show it. “Oh, you poor dear. Of course. Let’s sit.”
Persephone’s light touch upon Lily’s back left no room for argument. Lily went where her grandmother guided her, to a plush tapestry-print sofa. Its design intrigued her – barbed curlicues, a sinister castle shrouded in gloom despite the rows of flame, and creatures both horrendous and pitiful.
She leaned forward after Zeveriah sat beside her, arm lazily slung behind her. If only she didn’t have to bear his presence all night. She suspected Persephone and Hades engineered his every move.
No matter how sexually attracted she might have found him at first, she knew what his outwardly gorgeous appearance hid beneath. Whatever power he might wield in the Underworld wouldn’t sway her. He wasn’t family. Nor would he ever be.
They’re staring. She realized Hades and Persephone had posed a question. “Pardon?”
Almost imperceptibly, Hades shifted his legs, signaling impatience. “My wife asked if you had any appetite. She’d planned dinner soon.”
Glad to separate from Zeveriah, Lily rose. “Yes, whenever you’re ready.”
Zev stood more slowly, intent on something in the distance.
Or someone. Lily couldn’t pinpoint anyone in the hall. Maybe he’s bored. Or has given up?
When Lily followed Persephone and Hades, Zev fell into step, too. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling someone watched her with more than casual curiosity. More like hatred. But why?
Throughout dinner, she directed most of her conversation to Persephone, the personification of a gracious hostess. She’d seen to every detail, from complete settings atop the black linen tablecloth to six incredible courses. And flowers, in bouquets every few feet to petals strewn decoratively on dessert plates.
“Dinner’s magnificent.” Lily had never known such temptation.
“You’ve hardly eaten.”
“I nibbled here and there. I’ve never seen so much amazing food.” At Bodie’s warning, she left most of it untouched. Fruit garnished every serving, sometimes hidden beneath another food. Lily picked through each plateful and only ate some bread, mindful it bore no fruity scent or seeds.
“You should indulge yourself more often, dear. You’re so thin.”
“Dancing is great exercise.”
“Then you’ll need to eat to keep up your strength. And speaking of dancing, I have a surprise in store.” She rose, and quiet fell over the hall. “In honor of our special guest, our dearest Lily, we have a special performance tonight.”
Persephone nodded and sat.
The room went dark, a blackness so palpable, Lily felt it crawling along her skin. Fear stole her breath. How had all the candles, and the fireplaces, extinguished at the same moment? She reached for Persephone, freezing when a spotlight flooded three women.
Illuminated within the column of light, they stood tall, hands lifted over their heads, wrists back to back, their right legs flexed and extended, only the toes of their bare feet touching the floor.
Music began – a guitar, or something like a sitar, a flute and small chiming bells. Incongruous, yet so beautiful together, like nothing Lily had heard before.
Along a path lighted by candles, the women glided in, waves of diaphanous silk floating behind them. Above the silks slung low on their hips, they wore belts of silvery coins that jingled with each movement. Their jewelry covered more than the silks, which barely covered their breasts. Most wore rings on every finger, strands of glimmering beaded necklaces, arm bands swirled high on their arms like snakes, and ankle bracelets mimed their belts in tiny imitations.
As they danced between the tables, their nakedness beneath the silks grew apparent.
Persephone leaned close. “Beautiful, are they not?”
“Very beautiful.” Entranced, Lily watched each movement – the way their fingers formed various shapes, the arch and sway of their backs and hips. More than belly dancing, these women performed, but she couldn’t discern their meaning. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She’d love to learn to dance like that. They moved with such grace and precision, she wished she could join them.
One of the women repeatedly pierced her with sharp looks. Aside from that, the performance was amazing. Like something out of Arabian Nights, they swirled and danced in perfectly choreographed moves. Tiny bells sewn to the golden ribbons low on their bellies made mystical music, and the tiny brass cymbals they wore on their thumb and forefingers kept a slower beat than the rhythm of their hips, quivering, then swirling in a maelstrom to keep time with the music’s increasing speed.
“In some third world countries,” Persephone whispered, “slave dances are still popular. This is what’s known as a story dance.”
Three men strode in, naked except for black loin cloths and horned masks. Each threw down a fur rug. As soon as they appeared, the women dropped to the floor, writhing. The music slowed in what sounded like a shivering moan of surrender. The women’s hair pooled on the floor as they kissed the men’s feet. The dancers pawed at the men’s thig
hs, motions of begging. The men grabbed them at the small of their backs, and the women bent backward in a helpless bow of submission, heads nearly touching the fur rugs. With a clash of a gong, the men lowered the dancers to the rugs and fell atop them, writhing as if taking them by force. Then they jumped to their feet over the dancers, who curled onto their sides.
“What sort of story?”
“Our personal story of the Destined One, how Hades began the tradition after our own marriage.”
Lily’s throat constricted. The story of her future, if Hades had his way. And she didn’t like what she saw one bit.
Chapter Nine
“Excuse me.” Rising from the table, Zeveriah’s husky tone cut the moment of silence before the applause. He sent a scant glance toward Lily, who stared at the dancers with glazed eyes. Shock? Fear?
Throughout the performance, Zev tried to imagine Lily’s hands crawling up his thigh, begging for his touch. Instead, Veronica filled his vision, the medallions of her nipples visible beneath the purple silks, the patch of dark hair between her legs tantalizing him. Fury choked him when she stroked the thigh of the male “dancer,” and when he fell atop her, she taunted Zev with a look of pleasure, a smug expression she aimed directly at him.
He had to teach her a lesson.
His cock already threatened to burst. Rounding the wall of darkness, he caught sight of her sauntering away. “Veronica.”
She turned in surprise, then her face softened. “Archduke. Is everything all right?”
He hooked his thumb beneath the coined belt. “It will be soon,” he whispered. “Find us an empty room.”
Her hips swayed with each step, and she shoved open a door. One torch lit the space, empty except for a table and two chairs. The recesses of his mind wondered at the strange room, but a brush of her hand against his leg erased it, and reminded him of his pressing need.
He swung her against the door, groin hard against her, hands cupping the fleshy mounds of her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples into pebbles. “I enjoyed your performance.”
