by Jill Cooper
Beautiful skin and the softest black hair. Her wings the mirror image of mine. Beneath that hard demon exterior, there was a softness to her I never could’ve imagined. Especially not when we were battling each other in the sky, between the heavens and the Earth. Now my thoughts on her were much different.
The hardest shell sometimes protected the softest center.
I couldn’t keep my mind off of her. How tender her lips appeared and how erratic my heart beat when she was near. It was something that never should’ve happened.
I must resist my feelings and keep them to myself. Nothing good would ever come of them.
When the dungeon door opened, I rushed toward my cell bars. A woman in a red cloak rushed in, her movements different than Amara’s. I held my breath as she peeled back her hood.
Her face plain, but held a simple beauty. A pinched nose made her unique, and there was a distrust in her eyes. “I have a message for you from Amara. Quick, give me your hand.” She peered over her shoulder, hands shaking.
I put my hands through slots of my cage and she gripped my palm. Into it she poured smoke from hers. My skin raged with fire and I grunted as the smoke wore off. Words in red, like a burn, appeared on my forearm in a simple scroll.
Tonight after the banquet you’ll be moved to the arena. You’ll be staying in the common quarters with the other demons. Ready yourself and be safe, Cathal.
Amara had faced Lucifer and got him to agree to her terms, somehow. It seemed he had his own terms and we had to comply.
I stroked my forearm as the words disappeared. It was as if I hadn’t been burned at all. “Thank you, whoever you are.”
“Magenta, but I must go quickly and return to the palace. If he discovers what I’ve done…I’ll be dead. And that’s only if I’m lucky.”
I nodded. “I thank you for the chance you’ve taken.”
“I took it for her.” Magenta’s nose flared as she studied me. An intense anger filled her eyes. “Not you.”
So, this demon hated angels, but what more could I expect? She was a demon in service of Lucifer, but another truth revealed itself in how she held her body. Magenta stomped off.
“You know what she is?”
Her feet paused, but she didn’t turn back. Instead she put her hood back on and prepared for retreat. “I know. I was present for every minute of it and I can’t say I regret it. I was among the first to hold her. Care for her. Protected her from Lucifer and I will protect her from you, if I must.”
Gone from the dungeon, Magenta slammed the door and left me alone with my thoughts. Had Amara inspired this demon servant to love her as a child? Did all demons love their children? How could something of darkness, of evil, learn to love?
So much irony and contradiction to this place, it made me question my very existence. Our fight and crusade. I couldn’t fathom what was right or what was wrong. If a creature was capable of learning love… Maybe it was Amara herself who was different than these other beasts. Maybe it was something inside of her that inspired love. If not just for her beauty, maybe it was the quality of her soul.
***
The banquet hall was something out of the Greek mythology I learned about. Demons of all shapes and sizes covered the dance floor. The women wore regal gowns and headdresses fit for queens. Harps and brass horns played in the background setting the mood for the party. Tables of food and drinks lined the outer walls.
The aroma drifting by was sweet infection like chocolate and wine. Everything about hell was extravagant in ways heaven was not. We loved fruit, simple dishes; here everything was a party.
Laughter coursed through the room like a wave traveling from one demon to the next but I felt no joy. Up high on a red raised platform, I stood with the other demon champions. They wore red pants and were affixed with red capes. As the crowd cheered, the demons bowed, they clapped, and thrust their fists into the air. The demon crowd was picking their winner and I was not going to be one of them.
I wasn’t going to be given a chance.
My robe was pulled down to my waist and my wrists were shackled to the wooden post high above my head. It put my torso on full display, and the injuries I held from Amara’s blade when we had battled in the sky the night before. The demon crowd turned their attention to me and pelted me with food.
Splashed their drinks in my face.
It was all I could do to keep from turning my head away, but instead, I endured it. My eyes squeezed tight and my jaw locked. My pride hurt more than the actual assault. An angel should never feel pride. So maybe this lesson in humility would go far. If I ever made it out of the arena alive.
Which was debatable. If I managed to get to the gladiator games without an attempt on my life, I’d be surprised.
“She must be a fool to have picked the likes of you,” a tall demon said. I hadn’t learned their names yet and I saw no reason to. They were my sworn enemies and by their look of hunger, we wouldn’t be playing cards in the barracks.
“Maybe we’re too good for her. You ever think about that? Spoiled brat daughter of the king.”
I threw him a disgusted look. “It’s she who doesn’t deserve the likes of you.”
The demons roared with laughter. The minotaur tossed his head back and laughed as his front hoofs repeatedly slammed the ground. I was glad I could elicit such a strong reaction.
“Well, well, well,” the minotaur said. “Seems that Amara has an admirer.”
“Speak out of turn again, angel. Just try it and see what happens.” This demon was different than the others. Taller and more refined, like he wasn’t used to standing with common folk.
He balled his hand into a fist and punched me in the gut. Right where I’d been stabbed by Amara.
Groaning, I tore my eyes away from him and up high at the balcony that overlooked us. Lucifer was seated in his throne and clapping his hands together with delight. Beside him, was the beautiful Amara. Her dress was lovelier than the one she’d worn the night before. A black lace cowl covered her head. Even that couldn’t hide the pain on her face. She was forced to sit beside him as he stroked her cheek. He leaned in to whisper something to her ear, but her eyes were on me.
I saw the pain. The fear. I wanted to talk to her as desperately as she wanted to with me.
There was nothing I could convey over such a distance, so I merely nodded my head that I’d be all right. Somehow we’d get through this. At least I hoped. If Amara didn’t get set free…what was the point of it all for?
Lucifer and Amara stood together. Her servant Magenta wasn’t far behind, but it was the father and daughter who approached the balcony. Lucifer held Amara’s hand tight as he lifted it above their heads. Her eyes were trained down at the crowd, but there was such a lifelessness to them, I had to wonder what had happened between them.
How strong was his hold over her? Was I a fool to think I could break through?
“My darling daughter soon will be married. A joyful event, but a sad one for me. Tomorrow the gladiator games will begin.” Lucifer smirked as he gazed at Amara. “Say hello to her champions. Drink. Dance. Anyone care to wager a guess on how long the angel will last?”
The crowd came alive with laughter and taunts. I should’ve looked away, but I kept my eyes on Amara. The golden glow about her was desperate to hold on, but the darkness beat it back. I had to get her away from Lucifer and whatever he was doing to her.
Had to.
Lucifer kissed her cheek and with a clap of his hands, dismissed her. She made her way down the balcony stairs and joined the celebration in the banquet hall. Would she talk to the other champions? Would she be allowed to talk to me?
My heart pattered at the idea we might get to speak, but what could I say in a room full of demons to encourage her? I’d have to hurry up and decide because she was coming.
Soon, Amara would be standing in front of me.
9: Amara
I descended into the banquet hall and was handed a glass of wine as I step
ped off the stairs. Taking a sip, I placed the glass down on a table next to a row of golden medallions on ribbons. Fifteen, just like the champions up on the stage. I guess I should’ve considered it a gift that Lucifer provided one for Cathal.
But to tie him up on the stage like that? What other surprises would my father have in store for me as we moved into the gladiator games?
“You’re expected to hang a medallion around their necks,” Sebastian said with his head bent low. “Greet them, kiss their cheek. When it’s all done, you’re to say a few words. Keep the words light in spirit of the party.”
The party was everything in Lucifer’s kingdom.
“I understand.” But nervous bubbles jumped inside my stomach. In front of everyone, I’d greet Cathal. What would I say? All demons wanted the destruction of angels. If I didn’t give a speech of strength…
“Don’t give the angel a kiss. Under any circumstances.” Sebastian moved away, but never looked at my face.
I’d defeated him in battle and he’d lost his prestige. Everything. Now, he was afraid of me and never made eye contact. I’d won, he’d lost. But Cathal, he’d always looked me in the eye and I was the one afraid—of my own thoughts and feelings.
I was demon. I had to remember that. From an early age, I pledged my sword and will to Lucifer. That couldn’t be easily undone, even if I wanted to.
My head spun with all the possible choices I had to make. Gathering up the medallions in my hands, I walked up the platform. All the champions stood at attention, except for poor Cathal, on the end tied to his post. My heart quivered.
One by one, I gave out my medallions to the gladiators. Markus kissed my hand and I, in turn, kissed his cheek. “Good luck in the games,” I slipped the medallion over his head.
“I won’t need luck. I’ll win.” Markus scoffed, lust in his eyes. “And you’ll be mine for an eternity. We’ll make beautiful children. You’ll see.”
The thought horrified me as I went down the line. The minotaur was an interesting choice. As I kissed his cheek, he licked mine. “Well, you’re spirited.” I tried to sound funny and uplifted, but it was difficult considering everything.
Vasper was the only one who bowed to greet me like the royalty I was. Handsome with blond hair, a strong jaw, and a muscular build. Half of his chest was covered in a thick tapestry of tattoos, highlighting all he had learned and read. “Good luck, Vasper.” As children, we’d been playmates in the training sessions that turned us into warriors.
“I promise to fight for your hand with everything I have. There’s nothing more I’d like than you as a wife. They say you can’t be tamed.” His smile was handsome and there was a playfulness to him that was uncommon in a demon. I had to admit that coupling with him, once or twice, had crossed my mind—but I outgrew that foolish notion five hundred years ago.
“They’d be right,” I said dryly and I moved down the line.
“I’d be a kind, soft lover.”
Words that should’ve inspired me to root for him, and under different circumstances, I suppose I might have. Taking a shaking breath, I stopped at Cathal and his eyes pleaded with my own.
“Good luck to you, angel, that you survive the night.” My voice was loud enough so everyone could hear me. It sent a chorus of cheers and boos through the crowd. They worked themselves into a frenzy.
I took that moment to slip the medallion over his head. Straightening it out, I allowed my fingers to caress his chest. Touching him was a mistake, but it was one I couldn’t resist. To be this close to him and have no bars separating us…
His chest quivered beneath my brief stroke and when I gazed into his eyes I saw desire. Could it be true? Could an angel with so much honor and purity feel anything for me, a demon of wrath and destruction, other than disdain?
Did he want my body as much as I wanted his?
“This isn’t what I wanted for you,” I spoke quietly so no one else would hear us. Could he see how sorry I was even if I didn’t say it? I wasn’t sure how to express remorse that wasn’t beaten out of me.
Cathal nodded. “In the games tomorrow, I’ll show everyone what an angel can do.”
I hoped that was true, but he was still healing from my wounds. Somehow, I had to get him help. I just wasn’t sure how to go about it.
With great reluctance, I pulled myself away from Cathal and faced the crowd. Raising my hand overhead, I stared out at the multitude of faces. Some I recognized, others I didn’t, but it was clear how much hell was looking forward to these games. There was blood in the water, they could smell it.
And they were hungry.
“To the games! May the strongest warrior win!”
The crowd erupted and chaos ensued as the music pumped even louder through the room. The other gladiators joined the party, but Cathal was left still shackled to the wooden post. I hated to see that as I retreated into the crowd. Demons came and greeted me, but I barely heard what they said.
By the food trays, I found Magenta and silently I picked up some petite cakes and popped one into my mouth. The sweet and rich flavors blended into pure perfection. “I’ll check on him for you,” Magenta smiled unnaturally as she tried to hide her words from anyone who might be listening. “If it’d make you feel better.”
I nodded my head. “Bring him food. Water. Sneak it out of the kitchen now while everyone is busy here.”
Magenta’s eyes darted. “What you’re asking me to do…”
“Even the playing field. That’s all I’m asking.”
She bowed at the waist. “M’lady.” Magenta grabbed a glass of wine and scooted around the back of the wall, leaving me to fend for myself.
Markus came straight for me, it seemed I was going to find a way to escape. “Ahh, Amara.” He bowed at the waist as he greeted me.
I returned the greeting with my own bow. “Markus, it’s a pleasure.” And by a pleasure, I meant not at all.
He offered me his arm. “Come, there are some I’d like to introduce you too.”
“Oh.” My eyes flashed from his arm to the stage where Cathal was still on display. “I don’t think…”
“Amara.” He offered me a level look. “It’ll please your father. Come.”
“All right.” Breathless, I sighed as I hooked my arm through his. We walked through the banquet hall to the rear where a group of dignitaries waited. “They’ve come from the outer homes to meet you. They’ve heard legends about your beauty.”
The women feigned in front of me. They bowed and proclaimed with gasping breaths. One even covered her mouth with jewelry crusted hands. “Oh, you are as beautiful as we’ve heard. We’re honored to meet you. Just honored.”
I smiled through gritted teeth. “The pleasure is, of course, mine. Thanks for coming to the banquet. Please drink and party.”
They scurried away to do as I’d asked. Markus smirked with a twinkle in his eye. My finger whipped out and I pointed it against his muscular peck. “You haven’t won yet, Markus. You have no right to go around introducing like I somehow belong to you. I don’t. I am still my own.”
“It’s only a matter of time. You know it. I know it. It’s what Lucifer wants. And what he wants…” Markus shrugged.
I toyed with the idea of spitting at him. “Maybe you’d like a little time in my dungeon?”
“Now, now, there’s no need to be hostile. There’ll be plenty of time after the wedding.” He grabbed me by the waist and wrapped his arms around me. “And there will be a wedding, whatever trick you think you’re going to pull, it won’t work.”
I pushed against him. “You disgust me. I’m not a toy to be won.”
Markus’s eyes darkened. “In private, you show your true colors, but I’d watch your tongue. Once married, I will pleasure you; take care of you. But make no mistake, I only answer to one man and you call him father.”
Like I didn’t know that?
“That’s not a marriage, Markus.”
“A union between demons is never based on l
ove. But on control. Power. Strength. I’m the strongest here. Lucifer’s second in command. That alone should put lust in your eyes.” Markus shook his head, disappointed in me.
For a thousand years I’d lived up close to power. Marrying Markus would be no different. It wouldn’t make me powerful, only him and he’d wield it like a weapon.
I was happy to see him leave. Happy to watch him go, but my heart was weary. The games hadn’t even started and already I couldn’t wait for them to be over. No matter how it ended, I wouldn’t marry Markus. I’d fall on my sword first.
***
On the way back to my quarters, I darted over a bridge and slid between two buildings in desperation to be free from the guards shadowing me. Running down the cobblestone path I exited near the bakery and other common folk buildings that lined the capitol. A little girl sat on the front steps, kicking her feet back and forth.
Her eyes were dull as she yawned. “Mother took my mouse away before I could swallow it. I enjoy how they feelsquirming in my belly.”
“I’ll give you all the mice you want if you can do me a favor. Do you know who I am?”
She nodded. “Lucifer’s daughter. Some people call you brat.”
“That I am.” I got down on one knee and made sure my scowl was most foul. “Go the way I came and stall the guards. Scream. Kick them. Whatever it is. Just make a scene and I’ll send you your delicious treats tomorrow.”
“I’d do it for free.” She hopped down from the steps and ran off. “I love mischief!”
She wasn’t the only one. I wasn’t much different than that child once.
Hoisting up my dress, I ran for the arena. If I was going to have words with Cathal before the gladiator games tomorrow, it had to be now.
The arena was at the very edges of hell. Its view was a towering red stone wall that climbed forever. Above it, a lake of red flame swirled counter-clockwise. The arena itself was a giant circle with a dome ceiling. Pillars propped it up and thousands of stadium seats were inside. At the bottom, a dirt pit with six doors, each evenly spaced from one another.
