The Devil's Daughter

by Jill Cooper

  That was what he wanted. Confirmation that Amara had helped me, but I wouldn’t give it to him.

  I shrugged and kept my eyes down low. “I don’t know who it was. I’d never seen him before. He said he had a bet on me and didn’t want to lose.”

  “Well.” Lucifer backed up. “Isn’t that something. I’ll look into it, don’t worry. Whoever it is, I’ll find them and they will be punished. But it’s nothing for you to worry about … unless you’re lying to me.”

  “An angel doesn’t lie. I believe that’s your job.”

  For the first time, an angry flame flicked in Lucifer’s eyes. “If you think you can talk like that because we’re alone…”

  My chin to my chest, I bit my tongue. I wasn’t ready to push him too far. I was afraid what would happen to Amara if I did. If Lucifer lashed out at me in anger, I might never get to appear in the games at all.

  “Be careful tomorrow, Cathal. Dangers lurk around every corner. From the stands, I’ll be watching. My Amara by my side. Don’t be mistaken, she is mine. No matter how much she protests, she will always choose me.”

  “I like to think that she is her own. That she will choose her destiny.”

  Lucifer laughed out of the corner of his mouth. “Pathetic and weak, aren’t you? Fallen for a demon?”

  “Not just any demon,” I said and I watched his reaction. Lucifer’s jaw clenched and even his fingers twitched.

  “Get him out of my sight before I burn him alive.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and a moment later, the guards seized me on both sides. Grabbing me by the arms, they dragged me back into the sleeping quarters.

  Groaning, I held my side and rolled onto my bed. At least now I had two fewer demons to worry about. I might have lost my weapon, but that night the guards stood watch. Finally, I could sleep easier.

  Finally, I could dream of Amara.

  11: Amara

  I couldn’t forget that kiss.

  All through the night, my mind would drift back to that fateful moment. A small and private moment, I imagined what would’ve happened if we were allowed to see each other in the open. And when I dreamed, I was right back there with Cathal.

  He reached for me. His hands caressing my hips as I untied my bodice. It slipped to the floor and Cathal’s warm lips were there to eagerly greet me. His wings encompassed me and his golden shimmer fell onto my hair—my lips—like star dust.

  A dream or a fantasy, I wasn’t sure.

  Time must’ve passed because soon after, Magenta shook me awake. “Amara, what are you doing still asleep? Get up! You must!”

  I sighed and rolled over onto my pillow. The gladiator games were about to begin. As the devil’s daughter, my path was pre-determined. There was a never a question about what I would do with my life or why I would do it.

  But now, I didn’t want anything to do with that path. For the first time, I wondered about my own path and what would happen if I walked it. What would happen if I chose freedom over prison?

  ****

  The arena.

  No longer a dark space. Now like an organic creature, it was alive. All the seats were filled. Young and old, sinister and your common everyday folk, every demon was there to watch the games which would decide my fate.

  Magenta was a nervous wreck as she ushered me through a side corridor. We hurried toward the staircase that led to the balcony. The chanting and cheering grew so loud I could barely hear her. “Lucifer awaits you. Hurry now so you can start the games.”

  I nodded and struggled with a breath.

  She kissed each of my cheeks and bowed to my feet. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  So did I.

  My regal headdress of red and gold matched my dress. Somehow Magenta had it made just for the games, and as glamorous as it was, it was hard to walk up the stairs. Yards of fabric dragged behind me on the stairs. The cuffs were long against my fingers as I swept away my black and purple curls.

  With a deep breath, I moved the velvet curtain to the side and stepped into the balcony box. Guards in red armor flanked either side holding royal staffs. They turned their attention toward the audience as I stepped farther in.

  Standing against the backdrop of elegant tapestries—woven in knit materials with black and red—Lucifer took my hand. My dress might have been fit for a princess, but his robe was fit for a king. I’d never been so in awe of my father’s stature.

  “Beautiful, Amara. You stop crowds with your mere presence.” Lucifer kissed my hand and bowed deeply as he greeted me.

  Something he’d never done before.

  I didn’t know why or what his game was, but I tipped forward in thanks, careful not to spill my headdress. Bending at the waist made it hard to breath; my dress cinched together so tight. As I did that, the crowd erupted in cheers and the chants of my name.

  “Amara! Amara! Amara!”

  Turning toward them, I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of demons amassed in hell. Fanned out in the stadium seats, I couldn’t begin to recognize any faces. With their fists thrusting into the air, a swirl of anger and vengeance gathered between them. They were looking for a blood feast and I happened to be the girl who was going to usher it all in.

  Standing, he swept my hair off of my neck and gave me a gentle kiss. “See how they love you already? See how you inspire a legion? I’m not the only one who marvels at what you are.”

  I couldn’t look at him or my strength might waiver. Starting the games was the only answer and I was bound to it.

  “Give them what they want, Amara. Give them what I want.” Lucifer’s voice dripped with desire. His words controlled me and my actions like they always had. For now, we wanted the same thing. I didn’t have to fight him.

  I lifted my arm up toward the crowd and called to the roaring crowd. “Let the games begin!”

  The four pillars in the center of the stadium lit on fire like giant candles. The cheers intensified past what I thought was normal and my eyes swept to the doors as the Gladiators rode out in chariots harnessed to giant trolls. The wheels burning on fire, they circled into the stadium at breakneck speed.

  One chariot’s wheels weren’t burning. Cathal.

  My breath caught in my throat to see him again, even though it was just a head of hair. A hint of angel wings. He was there and we were in the same space. I hope he could feel me rooting for him.

  Lucifer tugged at my elbow. “Come. Sit. It’s unbecoming for you to stand for the whole show.”

  My eyes were slow to tear away from the game. I did what was necessary and smiled at Lucifer. “Of course, Father.”

  Tapestries and guards flanked the two thrones on either sides. There would be nothing I could do to help Cathal out of this. If he survived, it’d be on his own. I hoped he would make it to round two.

  I didn’t know if my heart could take it if he didn’t.

  During gladiator introductions, Lucifer clapped politely as if bored and when Cathal was announced, the crowd launched into a frenzy of boos. Outwardly, I remained calm but my chest tensed.

  Father only laughed while the crowds booed. He wiped the corner of his mouth delicately and barely gave me a glance, but I saw the look in his eye. Amusement. He loved this game and would love watching Cathal get beaten.

  If he saw how I was feeling, if he knew that the night before I’d kissed an angel, he didn’t say. I was pretty sure that’s something he wouldn’t hide.

  I had to pray he never found out because if he did, for me it would spell certain death.

  The horns wailed and it signaled that introductions were over. The first round was upon us. The gladiator games had truly begun.

  12: Cathal

  To keep us from flying, our wings were bond with thick magical rope. I suspected mine was cursed more than the others. Strength left my body the moment it was wrapped around my wings and I couldn’t stretch them no matter how hard I tried.

  It was do or die. I stepped up onto my chariot and handed a whip from the guar
d wearing a crimson helmet. The front was ornate with the emblem of Lucifer etched in the metal—the serpent. Full of lies and full of betrayal, here everything was backward. Here everything Lucifer stood for was championed.

  My chariot, a deep red with gold accents, was fastened to a troll. Hulking and green, his body was a moving mass of bumps and horns. His yellow eyes glinted back and salvia collected along the corner of his meaty, dry lips.

  He huffed.

  Even he hated everything I stood for and I couldn’t help wonder what was I really doing? What did I think I could accomplish?

  Was my desire to free Amara, to save her soul, or was I interested in only saving her for myself?

  “There are only ten swords in the center of the arena. You’ll see them. Get there first and get one. Otherwise, you’re dead.” The guard laughed and it was clear he wasn’t on my side. He slapped the hide of the troll as the horn outside blared.

  Moment of truth. I gripped the reins tightly and whipped the troll’s backend as the door was thrown open. With a huff and an earth shattering growl, the troll took off running. It took both hands on the reins to hold on. Cementing my feet, I gritted my teeth. My hair blew back and I tilted to the side as the chariot raged out of control.

  We were in the arena and we were circling on a race track. Chariots broke in and out of the circle as the crowd rocketed with cheers. Like a wave, they stood and clapped their hands. It echoed and filtered down to us. The boos, I’m pretty sure were for me, but I blocked that out as a chariot edged up beside me and the demon’s whip aimed straight for my head.

  I caught it with one hand and with a strong tug, brought the demon crashing to the dirt. My chariot ran him over and the wheels bumped up higher.

  The crowd’s cheers louder.

  “Boo! Boo! Get Cathal! Get Cathal!”

  My eyes fell to the highest balcony in the crowd and I could make out the tip of Amara’s nose and the pucker of her ruby glistening lip. Time for me to keep my head down and survive until the next round.

  “Move over, angel!”

  Two demons were coming up from the rear. We circled toward the center of the arena. The race track spiraled to the center where the swords were stashed inside a pillar. I wasn’t in the lead, but I wasn’t last and now I was about to be crunched by two giant trolls. They galloped toward me like a horse, on all fours, snuffing anger with each breath.

  “Faster!” I whipped my troll to pick up speed. I could barely hang on as a demon overtook me. His troll tore into the rear end of my chariot, shattering it with his teeth.

  Glancing back, I saw how close he was. The tall demon whipped me and it tore through my cloth cape. The lacerations deep on my skin. I was cut open and the heat from my blood spilling warmed my back.

  I had to break free and keep my distance.

  Jumping, I climbed on top of my troll. Angry, he bucked, shaking his head to throw me free. I clung to his thick hide and dug in my fingernails. He was as thick as leather and as ornery as a bull.

  Smelled just as bad, too.

  “Just hurry!” I screamed, but I doubted a troll understood me. We were getting closer to the center. Some demons ignored me in favor of getting to a weapon first, but others made me their target.

  They pitched their chariots against mine and clawed at my troll. He reared up to swat them away and I nearly lost my grip. My position was more liability now, but if I held on a little bit longer…

  A scream caught my attention. Markus flew through the air straight toward me. Already, he held a sword. His arm lifted overhead and he swung at me in an overhead death strike. Gripping the reigns tight, I leaned out of the way. His sword clipped my arm and I fell. Protecting my head, I rolled away and was run over by a chariot.

  Grunting, I was on my feet and gripped my side. Pretty sure I’d bent a rib, if such a thing was possible. That or I straight out broke it. I ran toward the center and the other demons surrounded me. Four demons, but only two swords are left. There were going to be some unhappy campers because one of those swords would be mine.

  I dove for one of the glistening hilts and I slid through the dirt.

  My fingers outstretched to grab it when a giant hoof pushed my back down. I yelped in pain as the shadow of a minotaur hovered over me. He stampeded his hooves onto my back in a victory dance. I was flattened, and my aching muscles and shattered bones cried out in agony.

  Couldn’t breathe. Holding my breath, my vision went fuzzy, but I had to hold on. Had to survive.

  Amara…I had to fight for her.

  Everything about her…I had to let that light guide me through.

  I scurried away, charging for the final sword.

  A chunky demon stole it away. He swung and I’d barely jumped in time. In front of me was the demon and behind me, was the charging minotaur. Glancing back and forth, I made a split-second decision to throw myself backward out of harm’s way.

  It wouldn’t be like that for long.

  Demons along the boards were fighting, but as they fell they’d turn their sights on me. It was only a matter of time. I bent over and picked up someone’s discarded whip. Turning it in my hand, I saw the minotaur had defeated the chunky demon and now headed straight towards me.

  Head down, sniffing like a wild boar, the minotaur wanted me dead maybe worse than Markus did. When he got close enough, I rolled myself right to avoid the hit. I gasped for air and watched the minotaur’s hooves sliding through the dust. He barely stopped in time.

  Turning fast, he missed slamming into the boards. I stayed hunched low and waited for his assault.

  Head on, the minotaur came at me full steam. I had to keep calm. Had to time it right…no matter how badly my body wanted to lie down in surrender.

  When he attacked again, I used the whip. The lasso wrapped around his horn and I launched myself on top of him. It wasn’t much fun for me—or him. He stank horrible and he bucked up and down to throw me off.

  “Get off of me!”

  “Only if you promise not to kill me.”

  The minotaur bounded, bucking me off. Like a bowling ball, I knocked down several opponents and my nose broke with a crunch. In the excitement, one demon dropped a sword and I picked it up. Pivoting best I could, charged toward the minotaur.

  He, too, sprinted toward me. My sandals kicked up sand and as the minotaur reared up his front legs, I slid on my knees and sliced his belly open.

  The crowd was on its feet. The cheers and boos were so loud; I couldn’t make out the words. I couldn’t hear myself think, but I twirled the sword in my hand. Demons changed direction and sprinted toward me like I was the new finish line.

  But, I was their target.

  Thankfully only six were left. I took off in a full on run toward the run down chariots. They at least would provide me with some cover from those that had picked up the archery bows.

  Leaping over the broken chariots, I ducked to avoid the flaming arrows and saw someone else had been hiding there.

  Markus.

  I saw him a moment too late. Lifting his sword to fend me off, I stood and Markus pierced my side with his blade. Groaning, I grabbed the wound and felt the warm rush of blood. Stumbling back, I figured that was it when a gong in the arena sounded.

  GONG. GONG. GONG.

  Thank God.

  It was over. I fell down to my knees and a shadow covered my face. Markus sniggered as guards rushed into the arena. He stared down at me, and I, up at him. Would he end me even though the round was officially over?

  Amara’s voice rang through the darkness. “So ends round one of the gladiator games! It’s over!”

  Fear and panic laced her voice. I couldn’t see her, but I could picture her face and how the lines around her eyes would pinch. She worried about me and I was so worried about her. All I needed was for Markus to back up and allow me to live until round two.

  His jaw clenched in a way that said he wouldn’t, but Vasper intercepted and patted Markus on the chest. He drove him back wi
th an arm over his shoulder. “Good round. Good round. We play by the rules if we’re to win Amara’s heart.”

  Markus didn’t speak, but he turned and left, throwing his weapon onto the battlefield. Thank, God. I’d live to see another day, at least for now, but with the pain I felt as the guards picked me up, I had to wonder how long I’d last.

  Without my healing abilities at full strength, I’d never be in fighting condition by morning. I could barely walk and that was no way to fight for a woman’s hand—or her freedom.

  That worried me the most. If I died and Amara was left enslaved to the blazes of hell, there was no point in any of this. I wished I could see her. Talk to her in private.

  That was more than I could ask for. I had to focus on breathing.

  And staying conscious.

  13: Amara

  I’d never felt as much fear as I had when Markus stabbed Cathal. Unable to do anything, but leap to my feet, I watched with creeping horror while everyone else cheered.

  Markus stood over Cathal’s body and I was sure that would be it. Cathal was still, so still. Maybe he wasn’t even conscious. I wasn’t sure until the bell gonged.

  Time was up and my voice rang out loud. Clear, but inside I shook. I stood almost frozen as the guards dragged Cathal away. He tried to keep up, but almost collapsed, and when he could walk, he limped. All the while holding his ribs like he was in real distress.

  There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t run to him or help him. I couldn’t even tell him how I felt.

  “He fought well. Your champion,” Lucifer said at my side. I hadn’t realized he’d gotten up from his throne.

  I nodded, but couldn’t look at him. I was afraid to look him in the eye—afraid of what he might see.

  “We’ll see what tomorrow holds. For now, it’s time for you to rest in your room. When it’s time for the banquet, I’ll send for you.”

  “Yes, Father.” I turned, finally feeling strong enough to face him. Lines around his eyes crinkled. He was angry, but all he did was extend his hand.