by Larissa Ione
“The 1st and 2nd Rings are clearing out,” Azagoth said. “As per Revenant’s orders, I’m reincarnating a lot of the non-evil demons on those levels. So do some creative reassigning.”
Not only would that be a lot of work, but it would require bringing in more fallen angels to oversee Rings that were going to contain a lot more evil demons, and no fallen angel volunteered to work in the Inner Sanctum. Not when they weren’t allowed to leave and their powers were limited. They’d have to be...recruited. By force.
“Sir, this is bullshit,” Hades growled. “What the everloving fuck is Hell’s new overlord doing?”
Azagoth flipped open the book. “That’s not for you to question.”
Hades burst to his feet. “My hot ass,” he snapped. “I never thought I’d say this, but at least Satan kept order and balance in Sheoul. This new douchebag––”
Burning pain ripped through him, and only belatedly did he realize that he’d been struck by a bolt of hellfire that had streamed directly from Azagoth’s fingers.
“Here’s the thing,” Azagoth said calmly. “Satan didn’t give a shit what anyone said about him. But Revenant? He’s putting down everyone who speaks out against him. Hell, he’s laying out anyone he even suspects might rebel.”
“That’s because he’s a paranoid fool. Learning his true identity has made him weak.” Apparently, Revenant had grown up in Sheoul believing he was a fallen angel, when the truth was that he had always been a Heavenly angel. How could a true angel, no matter how tarnished his halo, expect to be ruthless enough to rule Hell?
“And yet, he managed to defeat and imprison not only Satan, but Lucifer, Gethel, and the archangel Raphael as well.” Azagoth snapped the book closed with a heavy thud. “Respect him.”
“He couldn’t have done it without help from his brother,” Hades muttered.
“Maybe not. But keep in mind that he and his brother have each other’s backs. Don’t piss off either one of them. Together they are far more dangerous than Satan ever was.”
Hades actually liked Revenant’s brother, Reaver, who happened to be one of the most powerful Heavenly angels to ever exist. Reaver had spent a little time in the Inner Sanctum as Azagoth and Hades’s prisoner, and really, even when the guy had been in pain, he’d been pretty cool.
But Revenant could suck Hades’s balls.
The thought of having his balls sucked made an image of Cat flash in his head, which, granted, was way better than thinking of Revenant. But still, off-limits was off-limits. Dammit.
“Yeah, whatever,” Hades said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Ever since Rev took over as King of Hell, the Inner Sanctum has been a war zone.”
“Which is, in part, because he requested that I only reincarnate Ufelskala Tier one and two demons.”
“And the result of that idiotic order is that my domain is filling up with majorly evil fuckheads who only want to cause trouble.”
Azagoth’s dark eyes flashed as his patience with Hades wore thin. But then, he’d never had much patience to begin with. “Deal with it. Now. Your rebellions are leaking over into my part of Sheoul-gra, and the archangels are starting to get twitchy.”
“The archangels are starting to get twitchy? I’m the one trapped down there with demons who are desperate to get out.”
“Then keep it from happening.”
Keep it from happening? As if Hades had just been laying around on a beach and drinking margaritas while the Inner Sanctum went up in flames? “What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing for thousands of years?”
There was a long, brittle silence, and then Azagoth’s voice went low. And maybe a little judgmental. “There have been escapes.”
“Very few, and never more than one at a time. And come on...there were special circumstances in each case.” No demon could escape on his own, not when demons had no power in Sheoul-gra. Escape required energy or objects from an outside source, which was why visitors were very rarely allowed inside the Inner Sanctum. A single feather from an angel could be used in spells to destroy barriers or kill a target. One seemingly harmless vampire fang had once given a Neethul the power to reincarnate himself without Azagoth’s help.
“Still, you must be extra vigilant.” Azagoth dragged his hand through his black hair, looking suddenly tired. Good. Hades shouldn’t be carrying the stress of all of this by himself. “I’ve never seen Sheoul so unstable.”
Vigilant. Vigilant, he’d said. As if Hades was a total noob at this. But instead of saying that, he merely gritted his teeth and offered a tense smile. “Yes, sir. Anything you say, sir.”
“Good. Now get out. And do not fail me again.”
* * * *
Somewhere outside Azagoth’s Greek-style mansion, a bird of prey screeched. Cat loved hearing it. Not long ago, Sheoul-gra had been a dead realm, a physical manifestation of Azagoth’s emotional state. Dark and dreary, the “Gra,” as it was sometimes called, had resembled a toxic wasteland that couldn’t support any animal or plant life that wasn’t straight out of Hell itself.
But Lilliana’s love had changed Azagoth, and with it, his realm.
Now, when Cat strolled outside the palace, the grounds and buildings surrounding it teemed with life, from the lush grass, leafy green trees, and sparkling water, to rabbits, birds, and even the occasional fox or deer.
Smiling, she put down her feathered duster and headed from Azagoth’s pool room toward the mansion’s entrance, and as she rounded a corner, she collided with a body.
A huge, muscular body.
Hades.
An instant, hot tingle pricked her skin as she leaped backward, crashing into something behind her. She heard something break, but at the moment, it didn’t matter.
This was the first time she’d touched Hades. The first time her ability to sense good and evil as a physical symptom on the surface of her skin had triggered. At least, it was the first time with Hades.
She’d always suspected he’d give off an intense blast of evil, but she hadn’t expected the evil to be tempered by a ribbon of goodness. She also hadn’t expected to be so...aroused by the vibes he gave off. Then again, merely looking at him aroused her, so why wouldn’t touching him do the same?
He stood there, bare-chested and wearing a skin-tight pair of silver pants that showed every ropey muscle and presented that impressive bulge at his groin like a gift. Criminy, he might as well be naked. She wished he was naked.
“E-excuse me,” she squeaked.
He looked down at her, one corner of his perfect mouth tipped up in a half-smile. Which was a first. Everyone seemed to get smiles but her.
“You broke Seth.”
She blinked. “What?”
He nodded at something behind her. She turned and gasped in horror at the black, waxy hand lying on the floor and the now-handless statue next to it. “Oh, shit. Azagoth is going to be pissed.”
This was his Hall of Souls, a giant room filled with mounted skulls and fountains that ran with blood. It was also where people who did especially vile things––or who made Azagoth really angry––were turned into tortured statues. Inside, they were still alive, screaming for all eternity. And she’d just given one an amputation that must be agonizing.
She scrambled to replace the hand, but Hades just laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Seth was a demon who passed himself off as an Egyptian god back in the day. He tortured and killed thousands of children. He deserves worse than anything Azagoth or you could do to him.”
She stared at the statue, the naked body twisted in whatever agony Azagoth put him through before turning him to stone, his mouth open in a perpetual scream.
“Children?”
“Children.”
Sick bastard. She dropped the hand, grabbed Seth’s tiny penis, and snapped it off. “I hope he’s feeling that.”
Hades’s booming laughter echoed around the chamber, and she swore the crimson liquid in the center fountain stopped flowing for a heartbeat. “I’ll bet you just
made every poor stiff in here fear you more than Azagoth. Awesome.”
She dropped the nasty appendage next to the hand. “Yeah, well, I’d probably better find some Superglue before he notices.”
Hades nudged the pieces with his boot. “I’ll take care of it. I’m the one who ran into you, and besides, I live for this kind of thing.”
The note of mischief that crept into his voice made her suspicious, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “What have you got up your sleeve? You know, if you had sleeves.”
“Don’t worry,” he said with impish delight, “I know what to do with a cock.” He shifted his gaze to her, giving her a roguish once-over that heated her skin even more than touching him had. “So, what’s got you in so much of a hurry? Hot date?”
Flustered, because this was the first time he’d spoken to her like she wasn’t diseased, she stood there like an idiot before finally blurting, “I heard a bird.”
He looked at her like she was daft. “And that’s significant...why?”
Heat flooded her face. She must be as red as a Sora demon’s butt. “They have wings.” Geez, could she sound any dumber? “I guess I miss mine.”
“If you miss them that much, you could just enter Sheoul.” Massive black, leathery wings sprouted from his back and stretched high enough to brush the ceiling. Blue veins that matched his hair extended from the tips to where they disappeared behind his shoulders, and now that his wings were visible, the veining appeared under his skin, as well. It was as if he were a marble statue come to life.
Cat’s breath caught in her throat as she took in his magnificence. He’d transformed, and for the first time, she could see why the demons in the Inner Sanctum would kneel before him.
I’d kneel, she thought, but for far different reasons.
That image burned itself into her brain, and she wondered if her face went even redder. Then, to her horror, she found herself reaching out to skim her fingertips along the edges of his wings. He went taut, but her body did the exact opposite as shivery, wild sensations jolted her system and coiled between her thighs. Damn, this male was a danger to everything that made her female, and she stumbled back on unsteady legs.
“Sorry,” she whispered, hoping her voice didn’t betray her lust. “Like I said, I miss them. I want them back, but I want to get them by earning my way back to Heaven, and I can’t do that if I become a True Fallen.”
“Not joining me on the dark side, huh?” Now that she was no longer touching him, he’d relaxed, probably relieved that the crazy, horny Unfallen was keeping her hands to herself. Shrugging, he put away his wings, and the veins under his skin faded away. Good, because her fingers might have been all about his wings, but her tongue had wanted to trace every vibrant vein on his body. “Suit yourself. More evil cookies for me.”
Shooting her a wink, he sauntered off toward one of the portals that allowed travel between Sheoul-gra proper and the Inner Sanctum. Cat watched him––and his drool-worthy butt––until he disappeared around a corner.
Outside, the bird of prey screeched again, but now that she’d seen Hades’s wings, she wasn’t sure anything else could compare. As she contemplated her next move, she eyed the castrated statue and, unbidden, her mind popped an image of the bulge in Hades’s pants. She glanced down at the sad little male appendage on the floor and laughed.
Nope. No comparison.
Chapter Four
It had been three days since Cat had opened the portal from the human realm and allowed souls into the Inner Sanctum, and as far as she knew, nothing catastrophic had happened. Maybe no one had noticed. After all, there were millions of souls imprisoned in Sheoul-gra. So what if a handful had slipped through without Azagoth’s stamp of approval?
Rationalizing the whole thing didn’t make her feel a lot better, so she took out her frustration on the floor of the Great-Hall-slash-Hall-of-Souls at the entrance to Azagoth’s mansion. Why the hell did she have to polish the obsidian stone by hand, anyway? Did Azagoth not believe in buffing machines?
Okay, in all fairness, he’d never told her to clean the floor. The big jobs, like landscaping outside and maintaining the floors inside, had been assigned to the dozens of Unfallen who, like Cat, had come to live in the safety Sheoul-gra provided to those caught in the gap between Heavenly angel and True Fallen. But footprints on the floor drove Cat nuts, and today, some jackass had tracked in dirt and grass, completely ignoring the new mat she’d placed at the entrance that said, in bold red letters, WIPE YOUR DAMNED FEET.
She thought the play on “damned” was funny, given that almost everyone who came to Sheoul-gra was some sort of demon. Hades had gotten the joke, had laughed when he saw it. She still smiled when she thought about it.
She shot a fleeting glance over at the statue of Seth, which still hadn’t been repaired, but at least the two body parts were missing. Maybe Hades was trying to fix them. Hopefully, he was trying to fix them.
A tingle of awareness signaled the arrival of a newcomer into the realm – it was kind of cool how anyone who resided in Sheoul-gra developed a sensitivity to the presence of outsiders. It was usually Zhubaal’s job to meet visitors, but he was busy, so she leaped to her feet.
Happy to toss her cleaning supplies aside for a few minutes and always curious about who was paying a visit, she hoofed it out of Azagoth’s mansion to the great courtyard out front, where the portal from outside was glowing within its stone circle.
And there, striding toward her, was a magnificent male with a full head of blond, shoulder-length hair and a regal stance that could only mean he was a higher order of angel. As a lowly Seraphim, she’d rarely seen angels ranking higher than a Throne, but there was no doubt that this male was at the very top. Perhaps even a Principality, one rank below an archangel.
“E-excuse me, sire,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Can I help you?”
The big male nodded, his blond mane brushing against the rich sapphire blue shirt that matched his eyes. “I will see Azagoth.”
“I’m sorry, but he’s busy––”
“Now.”
Mouth. Dry. A lifetime of fear of higher angels made her insides quiver, even as she realized that Heavenly angels held no power here. Inhaling deeply, she reached for calm. As a fallen angel in Azagoth’s employ, she was actually more influential in Sheoul-gra than this new guy was.
Somehow, that thought didn’t make her feel any better.
“This is not your realm, angel,” she said sternly. “You can’t just poof in here and demand an audience with Azagoth.”
“Is that so.” The male’s voice was calm. Deadly calm. Scarily calm.
“Yes. That is so.” She was proud of the way her voice didn’t quake. Not much, anyway.
A slow smile curved the male’s lips, and if it hadn’t been so terrifying, it would have been beautiful. “I don’t want to cause trouble for you, Cataclysm. So either fetch him or take me to him. Those are your only choices.”
“Or?” she asked, and how the hell did he know her name?
Suddenly, the air went still and thick, and massive gold wings sprung from his back, spreading like liquid sunshine far above them both. “Guess.”
Holy...fuck. He was...he was...a Radiant. An angel who outranked even archangels. And since there could be only one Radiant in existence at any given time, that meant that this was Reaver, brother to Revenant, the King of Hell. That alone would have been enough to terrify her, but making things worse, much worse, was the fact that she had lost her wings because she’d been in league with an angel who had not only betrayed him, but who had attempted to kill his infant grandchild.
Cat’s knees gave out, but before she hit the ground, Reaver caught her, landing her on her feet with one arm around her to hold her steady. Instantly, her skin became charged with his Heavenly energy, the magnitude of it rendering her almost breathless.
It was too intense, scattering her thoughts in a way that touching Hades hadn’t. As an angel, she’d touched other a
ngels, but it had never been like this. As a fallen angel, she’d had skin-to-skin contact with Lilliana, and while the female had given off a slight positive energy buzz, it hadn’t been anything like what she was experiencing with Reaver.
Maybe the fact that she was a fallen angel had made the sensation of goodness too overwhelming for her. Or maybe the intensity had to do with the fact that Reaver was a Radiant. Whatever it was, it made her want to throw up, the way eating too much of a rich food did.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.
She couldn’t say a word. But her inability to speak was more than just her reaction to his touch. He was a rock star in the angel world. Beyond a rock star. He was...the rock star. The angel.
And she’d nearly destroyed his family.
“What the fuck?” Azagoth’s voice rang out from somewhere behind her. Dazed, she turned her head to see him walking toward them, his gaze boring into Reaver. “You know that when a high-ranking angel steps foot into my realm, I feel it, right? Like, migraine feel it.”
Legs wobbly, she stepped away from Reaver. “Sir––”
A wave of Azagoth’s hand silenced her. “I’ve got this. Reaver is a friend.”
“Friend?” Reaver asked, incredulous. “May I remind you that you ordered Hades to hold me in the belly of a giant demon, where I was slowly digested for centuries?”
Cat couldn’t believe it when Azagoth rolled his eyes. He wasn’t usually so casual with Heavenly angels. But then, Reaver had sent gifts for him and Lilliana. “It was three puny months.”
“Yeah, well, it felt like centuries,” Reaver muttered.
“Good.” Now that was more like Azagoth. “Are you here to see Lilliana?”
Reaver shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’m here to see you. There’s a soul in Sheoul-gra I need to be released.”
“Demon?”
