Princess of Lust (For the Love of Evil)

by Mayburn, Ann

  “Eat,” was all he said as he continued to watch her.

  So she did, managing to choke down a dry bit of bread while her stomach clenched and rebelled. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t remember what she had done. She bitterly wished the pot held some of the calming tea because she felt like she hovered on the edge of losing her mind.

  “So, Eliza, how do you feel?”

  “A little ill, and tired.” She glanced at him and back to her breakfast. “Did I do something to upset you?”

  He rubbed his cheeks and she noted for the first time how weary he looked. “Do you remember anything you said or did yesterday?”

  She slowly chewed, trying to buy herself some time. “Before or after you gave me the drug?”

  “After.”

  She must have done something to upset him, but she couldn’t remember. “Honestly, I have no idea, Mr. Wright. After you gave me the injection it’s all a pleasant blur.”

  Some of the tension went out of his shoulders and he toyed with his teacup. “So no memory of demons?”

  Her cup chattered against the edge of the saucer as she put it down. “Demons, sir?”

  “Yes.” He fingered his collar and looked chagrined. “You said something about demons killing your mother.”

  She laughed, hoping he didn’t notice how forced it sounded. “Oh, dear. I must have given you quite a fright.”

  “You did.” He stood and wiped his hands with a white cloth napkin from the table. “I’ve sent samples of the drug over to Mr. Pierce over at Owens College for further testing.”

  “Testing? It worked, didn’t it?” She swallowed and tried to think past the cold seeping into her bones. “Isn’t it the cure for opium addiction?”

  He shrugged, and his bushy eyebrows drew together. “It is far too soon to make that judgment without more experimentation. You’ve been without morphine or opium for about twenty-four hours now. How do you feel?”

  She felt horrible, but she couldn’t tell him that, not when he was so close to succeeding in curing opium addiction. “I feel good. Tired but good.”

  “No cravings? No pain or nausea?”

  “No, not at all,” she lied with a smile. So what if she did have all of the above? It was because of the demonic side of her soul reacting to the religious icons, she was sure of it. Why, right now they sat beneath a gigantic cross on the wall that Christopher said had been blessed by the pope. No wonder she felt out of sorts.

  He nodded and lifted the napkin next to his plate, revealing a filled syringe. “I altered the formula a bit last night. Haven’t slept a wink but I wanted to get it just right.” He stroked the syringe with his fingertip. “Just think, if this works I’ll be the man who saves humanity from the addictive scourge of opium.”

  She took another bite of bread and nodded, trying to appear attentive to his words but instead thinking that soon she would be going home, to Hell. She had to hold on just a little bit longer, help Christopher get it right so he could share the formula with the rest of the world as soon as possible.

  “You haven’t had your laudanum or morphine yet today. I know that normally you would be hurting right now, but you’re not.” He moved his chair over and sat next to her, his sour breath polluting the air between them and making her already queasy stomach lurch. “If this continues to work I’ll be able to free hundreds of thousands of people from opium’s hold.” His eyes blazed with conviction. “No more opium dens, no more starving children because their parents smoke all of their money away.” He held up the syringe, the clear liquid catching the light from the gas lanterns and the faintest hint of dawn creeping over the horizon. “This may be the answer, but I need to know if it works. It could be the miracle we’ve been looking for.”

  Without another word, she fumbled with the buttons of her sleeve and rolled it up, exposing her arm to the burning kiss of the needle.

  ***

  The next week flowed by in a blur of waking, forcing herself to eat, then allowing Christopher to inject her with the drug. It got to the point where she didn’t care about anything but the slide of the miracle medicine into her vein and the bliss that followed. It wasn’t as good as the first time, but it still blew all of her preconceived notions about pleasure out of the water. Even better, Christopher was now convinced he’d found the cure for morphine addiction.

  The only hard part was remembering who she was. She continued to slip while under the influence of the drug, and Christopher was becoming more concerned about her mental state. He’d talked of not giving her the drug anymore, but she’d wept and begged him to continue. She lied and told him how terrified she was of falling under the spell of morphine again, how a little bit of harmless babbling was nothing compared to the benefit of no longer dealing with that terrible craving.

  Being around so many religious objects continued to torment her, but thankfully the medication Christopher gave her made that pain disappear. It also made her forget how lonely she was, gave her the courage to continue the charade. All of her worry vanished beneath the wave of euphoria washing through her system with each injection. Christopher still hadn’t tried it himself, but he was eagerly awaiting the results from Dr. Pierce at Owens College. She thought he might be scared to try it, but she couldn’t figure out why. Who wouldn’t want to feel like God was holding them in the palm of his hand and surrounding them with his love. This had to be the reason she was sent here, to show Christopher that his drug was a miracle. How could something that felt this good be anything but?

  No one from Hell had come to tell her that her job there was done yet, so she worked harder to convince Christopher he was doing the right thing. She thought Pyriel might have tried to contact her at night a few times, but she wasn’t sure. The days continued to slide by and she wanted to contact her father in Hell, but Christopher kept her on a tight leash and each time she’d tried to leave, one of the other servants would bar the way, saying they didn’t want another incident landing her in the hospital.

  One rainy afternoon, she lay on the couch beneath the window, watching the water stream down the pane. It was such a beautiful sight that she found herself wiping away tears, awed by the exquisiteness of the world. An hour before, Christopher had given her another injection when she began to complain about feeling the need for morphine and now she floated in bliss.

  The door leading to the courtyard opened and unfamiliar men’s voices filled the room. She struggled to think of who they were and remembered Christopher saying something about their benefactor stopping by today. She slowly sat up and straightened her dress, smoothing the white apron down the front and making sure all of her hair was carefully stuffed beneath the cap. Christopher hated anything being in a state of disarray, and she didn’t want him angry with her for any reason.

  Besides, this was what she had come here to do. Convince his benefactor to help spread this miracle drug around the world and halt the advance of opium.

  Christopher’s voice came floating over the room as heavy boots tromped across the wooden floors. “I have grave misgivings about diacetylmorphine. I received a letter from Mr. Pierce yesterday saying it appears as if the drug is even more addictive than morphine.”

  Natalia’s heart lurched as a man’s voice, thick with a Russian accent, filled the air. It sounded so familiar. “I’m sure you are both overreacting.”

  She could make out their forms now, coming closer but still hidden by the lab equipment. Christopher stopped and lowered his tone. “I’ve tested it out on my lab assistant as well. She is heavily addicted to it, but that’s not the worst part. She believes she is a demon.”

  Laughter boomed through the room, echoing in her mind. She knew that laugh, had heard a slightly different version of it from Gregor. Terror froze her in place, the drugs addling her mind and making escape impossible. When the men finally came into sight she gave a high, almost soundless scream.

  The man standing before her with Christopher had to be Gregor’s grandfather. Despite th
e age difference, the family resemblance was clear. The same dark red hair, now liberally threaded with silver, the same dark brown eyes with the Tartar tilt at the corners that gave them an exotic feel. The fear momentarily cleared her mind, and she despaired at what an utter and complete fool she’d been. A second burly man joined them and her heart slammed into her ribs so hard she thought she might pass out.

  “No, no, no,” she whispered in a broken voice as Christopher rushed next to her and tried to calm her. She clutched his jacket in desperation. “Christopher, these men serve demons. I’m not sick; this isn’t the drug talking. They serve Belal! You must not give them what they want!”

  Christopher looked both annoyed and sad as he held her hands. “Calm yourself, girl. These aren’t demons. They are respected members of the community. Mr. Trezent runs a poor house for those addicted to opium and morphine; you know that.”

  Behind Christopher’s back, Mr. Trezent stared at her with so much hatred she was surprised she didn’t burst into flames. There was no doubt he saw through her illusion. “No, Christopher, that man serves Belal!” She struggled against his hold, reaching in vain for her demonic essence to give her the power to escape his clutches, but that part of her soul was buried by the drug still coursing through her veins. How stupid she had been, how self-indulgent. Of course the drug was what Belal was after. They had been so wrong. She wasn’t supposed to help Christopher. She was supposed to stop him, but now it was too late.

  Mr. Trezent nodded to his bodyguard and the burly man swiftly pried her hands from Christopher’s jacket, pinning her to his chest. She went wild, screaming and thrashing, biting anything that came near her. Her cap fell off and her hair obscured her vision as panic reduced her to an animalistic state. Glass crashed and she blew her hair from her eyes and scrambled across the floor to where a rack of beakers had fallen off the table.

  Seizing a jagged piece of glass, she held it to her throat, making a shallow cut that seeped blood. “Don’t let them take me, Christopher, please!”

  Christopher stared at her in horror, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Eliza, darling, Mr. Trezent won’t hurt you. He is going to take you to the best hospital in Europe for treatment for your addiction. I’m so sorry.”

  She scanned the room and moaned as more of Mr. Trezent’s men came into the laboratory, effectively blocking all the exits. For a moment, she considered slitting her throat but she feared if she did go to Hell she would end up in Belal’s possession somehow as a damned soul. She struggled to think but all the drugs in her system made her thoughts slow and disjointed.

  Mr. Trezent smirked at her, and she could read her death in his gaze.

  They were going to take her, that was certain, but maybe she could buy herself some safety. “Make them swear on God’s name they won’t hurt me, them or any agent of Belal. That while I’m in their care no harm will come to me. If they swear it, I won’t fight anymore.”

  Christopher gave a weary sigh and looked over his shoulder at Mr. Trezent, who gave him a small smile. “I hate to ask this of you, but could you please humor her and swear it.”

  Mr. Trezent shook his head. “You know I’m a religious man. I won’t say such blasphemy.”

  She dug the glass deeper into her neck. “Swear it! I’m sure your master would be quite upset if you ruined his chance to hold Asmodeus’s daughter, to bring her back to Hell alive. You know how rare female demons are. Imagine what he would do to you if he found out your stupidity had me killed!”

  Christopher stared at her like he’d never seen her before but she only had eyes for Mr. Trezent. The hate she saw in those dark brown depths, so like Gregor’s, tore at her self-control but she managed to hold his gaze. He finally nodded. “I swear on God’s name you will not be harmed by me or any agent of Belal as long as you are in our care.”

  She dropped the shard of glass, now wet and red with her blood, and curled into a ball on the floor. A moment later, a needle pricked her arm and her whole body relaxed. The sound of Christopher and Mr. Trezent arguing faded into the distance and she wept, knowing she had failed them, failed them all.

  ***

  Raum tried to clean himself as best he could with the damp towel provided by a maid as he waited for Asmodeus in his personal library. An urgent summons had called him back from the field, where he’d had to leave his men in the middle of a battle. The door behind him opened and he knew before they even entered that Gregor, Kirin, and Eline were joining them. Fear coursed through his veins as he realized everyone in Natalia’s inner circle was in this room.

  Gregor’s eyes widened as he took in Raum’s disheveled state, his gaze lingering on the blood soaking one side of his head and turning his moonlight hair crimson. Kirin didn’t say anything, just came to him and wrapped his arms around the general, taking deep breaths. Raum allowed himself a few precious moments to return Kirin’s embrace before turning to Gregor. “Do you know why we’re here?”

  Gregor shook his head, running his hand through his dark red hair. “No. I—think that…well something is different about my bond with Natalia. I had a terrible nightmare in which I was somewhere dark, tied up and in great pain. My whole body ached and I was cold.” He shook his head, the frustration pouring off him in waves. “I’ve been trying to reach her, but it’s like something is between us, like cotton is stuffed in my ears and I can barely hear her soul anymore.”

  Kirin made a small sound and Raum realized he was crushing him. With an apologetic glance, he dropped his arms and took a step away, needing the space to think. “Eline, can you still feel her?”

  The captain of Natalia’s personal guard nodded. “Yes. I believe she is in Hell somewhere but there are extremely strong wards between us.” The faint lines around his eyes deepened as he fingered the pommel of the sword strapped to his belt. “I, too, get the sense she is alive, but something is wrong.”

  Asmodeus’s voice rolled through the room with terrible thunder, cold and deadly. “She is in Hell.”

  All three men spun around to find the high prince standing to the side. Raum fought to keep his emotions under control. After over a thousand years of serving Asmodeus, he knew the high prince—and Fallen Angel—was one step away from exploding. Fury poured off him and Raum grit his teeth, fighting to stay standing in the face of such anger. “My liege, where is she?”

  Asmodeus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ornate wooden box. He stalked forward and the men drew back, the air turning to ice around the high prince. He set the box on a small table holding a vase of golden flowers that instantly turned to ice, then shattered like glass. Without turning around, he opened the lid and a large drop of blood floated into the opening, suspended in the air and sparkling in the sunlight pouring through the wide windows at the back of the library. Raum’s heart broke as the familiar smell of Natalia’s essence coming from that drop of blood filled the room.

  Asmodeus stared at the blood and the very air around him wavered with his power. “Belal has her.”

  Dear Beloved Reader,

  I hope I caught you before you sent out that e-mail you’re composing in your head right now, asking me what the hell is going on. I realize that I’ve left Natalia in a very precarious position and I beg your forgiveness. The For the Love of Evil series is a trilogy and I promise you that in the last book, Servant of Lust, there will be a Happily Ever After...just maybe not the way you think. If you are reading this book in the future, after the trilogy is complete, lucky you! You don’t have to wait for the book to come out. For everyone else, I ask that you put away your Ann Mayburn voodoo dolls and rest assured that I’m hard at work on Servant of Lust. As always, thank you for giving me the chance to take you to another world, where going to Hell isn’t as bad as it sounds. ;)

  Queen Ann

  ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

  Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communic
ations Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.

  From a young age she's been fascinated by myths and fairytales, and the romance that often was the center of the story. As Ann grew older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.

  Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has learned to type one handed while soothing a cranky baby.

  You can visit Ann at:

  www.annmayburn.com

  Daughter of Lust

  Belal, High Prince of Hell and Keeper of the Deadly Sin Sloth, is expanding his power by trafficking opium. He revels in the results, and as sloth begins to overtake the mortal realm, all of Hell suffers. The balance of power in Hell, as well as the fate of the Universe, will be decided by a half-demon peasant girl.

  Natalia Shura, the daughter of Asmodeus, High Prince of Hell and Keeper of the Deadly Sin Lust, is unaware of the nature of her birth. When her demonic side begins to awaken, her world becomes dominated by dark passions and deadly cravings. Natalia fears she is losing her mind. But her love has been foretold as the only thing that can stop Belal and his allies, and they will do anything to prevent her ascension.