He points the sword to me. “You tell me.” He brings the blade back to himself, resting a finger on its tip, bored. “You were the one who thought of me. I, on the other hand, am busy preparing for the upcoming days. I am a very busy man.”
“Then maybe we should cut this short.”
Lucifer smiles, and it nearly knocks me over. In this form, he is definitely the Morningstar. The form with horns, grey skin and a snake for a tail—well, let’s just say I’m glad I’m not facing that beast.
“I have other ideas, I’m afraid.” The sword vanishes from his hands, and he cocks his head. “As do you, I think.”
My heart skips a beat. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The smirk he gives me causes me to fold my arms across my chest when I remember what I’m wearing. “I think you do.” He breathes heavily, eyeing me up as if he can see through my dress. Which, I guess, he can. “I cannot blame you for your urges, just as I cannot blame you for thinking of me. It is my Mark—” He touches his metal-covered chest. “—on your breast.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t think of you on purpose.”
Lucifer takes a step towards me. “Is that what you tell yourself?”
“Stop,” I say, willing him away. “Get out of my head, get out of my dream.”
“Get out, get out,” he mocks me, moving closer. “Why would I get out when there is something here that I could so easily get inside of?” He flashes me a smile, and I see that Dagon did not get his dimples from his father. “Tell me,” he whispers, close enough to start circling me like a vulture, “is it normal for Humans to think of their lover’s father when they’re seconds from joining?”
I have no answer, and he knows it.
“Your silence is sweet,” he says, stopping in front of me. “I bet—” The strength of his voice trembles in a mere whisper. “—that’s not the only part of you that’s sweet.” The back of his hand caresses my cheek. “My foolish son has not tasted you yet. Myself, I would not have waited.”
Though I know I can’t outrun him, I know I should try. But I don’t. I can’t. I’m frozen in place, my heart beating so hard in my chest that I feel it in my neck.
“I would have taken you instantly. I would have tainted you, taken your innocence.” Lucifer smiles, radiating the same heat that Dagon does, the same smell of smoke and brimstone. “I would have made you worship me.” The hand caressing my face moves to my chin, forcing me to look into his dark blue eyes. Set in such tanned skin, his looks are smoldering. The Great Deceiver can easily best anyone.
Even me, apparently.
“Better late than never, right?” he asks, grinning. Before I can tell him no, his mouth closes on mine. Hard, fast; his hand holds my chin so that I cannot turn away. His eyes remain open by just a sliver, watching as I fall apart in his grip.
Tears well in my eyes. This is not happening.
“So sweet,” he muses with a smirk. He releases my face, and I fall to the floor, the black tile cold on my hands and legs. The dress slides down my thighs, and I keep my knees together and as tight as they would go.
When he does nothing but laugh at me, I finally break free of the hold he had on me, standing and running towards the door. I only make it that far because he lets me. As I grip the cool handle, I feel his presence behind me. His hand holds the door closed, regardless of how much I pull.
“Do you know who you remind me of in that dress?” he whispers, his tall, imposing frame hard against me. He spins me to face him, my head at the level of his chest. “Such a pretty one she was.” Lucifer runs a hand through my hair, stopping at the base of my neck. “A shame her godly soul could not last long in my realm. Enough to bear me a son. You would last longer.”
My voice doesn’t come out, so I simply shake my head.
His hand moves from my neck, down to my chest, where his Mark sits, plainly visible. When his skin touches it, the Mark flares, and I stifle a moan. He didn’t make it hurt. He made it feel good, which is just as bad.
I tremble as his hand moves to the right, beneath the dress, cupping my breast.
“So soft, tender,” he says, withdrawing his intrusive hand. He then does something I’m aghast at: he sets my clothes on fire, burning them away in an instant. I stand between him and the door, utterly naked. Even my sandals are gone. “Much better.” He steps far enough away to fully look at me. And I mean look at me. Every part of me.
Lucifer continues to smile as he unlatches the cape. It falls to the floor. Next is his metal chest plate. The clang it makes with the ground nearly shatters my hearing. The cloth beneath the chest plate is next. Piece after piece, and soon he stands before me, just as naked as I am.
I look away.
“Why deprive yourself?” he says, suddenly near me, pressing his naked body against mine. Lucifer takes my hands, drawing them down his chest, past his chiseled abdomen, down the muscles that form a V on his hips. Down farther than I ever wanted to go. “Why deny yourself the pleasure?” When he lets my hands go, I hurriedly move them off him. “I can sense your desire.” His face leans down, his hands roaming over my bare sides. “I can smell it. I can feel it.”
Though my knees are closed tightly, his hand finds a way through, touching me in a place I’ve never been touched before. His rough hands feel inexplicably smooth down there.
The lies. The betrayal. I can’t do this. I can’t let him do this to me. I have to fight him, somehow, someway, get him off me. Get out of this forsaken dream. I won’t let him toy with me, toy with Dagon like this.
I…can’t.
“Stop.” As I form the first two letter, one of his fingers slips in. “No.” My protest is muffled by his mouth and his tongue, my will dominated by his. This isn’t my dream I was pulled into his. If it was mine, I’d have more control, I’d be able to fight him just as I’ve fought him before.
But I’ve never had to fight him like this.
Not at all like this.
Lucifer moves his mouth to my neck, murmuring, “I’ll make you scream my name. I’ll fill you up so that you’ll never have room for anyone, even—”
“Dagon,” I say through watery eyes.
“Yes, a shame my son is not half of the man I am,” he says, abruptly yanking his finger out of me. Lucifer steps back, in his full, unabashed glory. Completely erect, and one hundred percent wrong. “Or half of the Seraph I am.” With a flex of his muscles, his bright, white wings appear, filling the room with their magnificence.
The eyes that have stared at me numerous times, baiting me, trying to trick me, trying to get me to betray Dagon, twinkle. He’s won. Lucifer has won, and he knows it.
I close my eyes, unable to stare at him for long. The white from his wings burns my vision. I feel hands laying me down, my back soon flat on the glass floor. I’m glad my eyes are closed, for I cannot bear to watch this.
Lucifer lays atop me, his legs spreading mine. “If you give in to me,” he says, lips hot on my ear, “it will feel so much better for you.”
I want to ask him how he could do this to me, to Dagon, his own son, but all that comes out is “Dagon…”
Smiling, he says, “You want an audience? Very well.” With a wave of his hand, the same hand whose fingers were inside me, touching me, stroking me, making me feel things I should never feel, a portal appears to our left.
It shows Dagon in a field, strung to a cross. Beaten and bloody, he looks exhausted. His head is bent down.
“Say his name,” Lucifer murmurs, both hands grasping my neck, turning my eyes away from the portal, meeting his commanding stare. “Say his name. Make him look. Make him watch while I make you scream my name.”
I shouldn’t say anything. Dagon can’t see this. It would break his heart, just like it’s breaking mine.
My hand reaches for the portal, and my voice, barely a whisper, says, “Dagon.” I want him to save me.
The light, kind eyes that followed me wherever I went are sluggish in lifting. They widen
when they see me, when they see Lucifer on top of me. Dagon’s mouth opens, and if he says something, I don’t know. I can’t hear him.
“Such a twisted mind you have,” Lucifer whispers, glancing to the portal at his son. While watching Dagon, he takes my outstretched hand and brings it to his face, making me caress him.
“Dagon,” I say again, but his name is muffled as Lucifer smothers me with a kiss. He nips at my bottom lip, making a big show of dominating me. His fingers graze my nipples, his tongue leaving my mouth as he travels downward until he’s staring at the area between my legs, a smug grin on his face.
I let out a moan when Lucifer runs his tongue along me, hot and wet in places that I never knew existed. Satisfied that he’s tasted me, he lifts his face and stares at Dagon. “So sweet, boy. And the first taste is always the best.”
Dagon fights at his restraints, at the cross holding him back, and his furious gaze meets mine.
I’m sorry.
Lucifer chuckles, bringing his head up to mine. “Let us show my son how it’s done.” A smile as he positions himself. A short groan as he pushes inside. A burst of pain, of fire hot and burning. I call out, but what I say I’m not aware of.
All I can do is lay there and take it, be violated by the Devil himself while his son, my Master and my love, watches from afar.
The wings above us stretch with every thrust. Deeper and deeper he goes until I feel like exploding. Lucifer’s hand tugs at my hair as he says into my ear, “Say my name.” When I don’t, he adds, “Say my name, and I’ll release you.” A pause. “And him. Say my name, and all of this—” I flinch as he pushes himself as far inside of me as he can go. “—can end.”
Again and again, until my back aches from the tugging on the floor. I don’t want to say his name…but if it’ll make this end, if it’ll make this stop, what choice do I have?
“Lucifer,” I whisper.
“Louder,” he grows, animalistic in temperament, his wings shaking with his imminent release.
“Lucifer,” I say a bit louder, and he sets a hand on the Mark on my chest. His thrusting doesn’t stop. He keeps going in and out, over and over. How long will this last? When will it end?
“Louder than that, Lexa,” he orders, in complete control.
What happens next I am not proud of. I’m disappointed in myself. To say that I hate myself would be a huge understatement.
As I say his name one last time, a wave sweeps over me. My toes curl and my hands clench. My eyes involuntarily close, and I let out a sound I’ve never made before. My whole body shakes. I can’t stop it. I feel the Devil atop me shudder simultaneously, and when I open my eyes, his blue stare is on me, a smile on his lips.
He does not pull out of me right away. Instead, Lucifer glances at his son, whose expression reads pure defeat and hopelessness. “That,” his strong voice loses all of the sensual compulsion it held, “is how it’s done.” Turning to me, he murmurs, “And I’ll see you on the field of battle.” His teeth nick my lip when he kisses me one last time, drawing blood that he licks off me. “Should you wish for a better lover, you know how to find me, though it will not save you from oblivion.” With that, he pulls out, standing tall above me, his manhood wet from me.
From me.
Because…
I can’t even finish the thought.
With a wave of Lucifer’s hand, the dream ends, and I’m thrown into the real world, with my clothes and virginity still intact.
“Oh,” I speak, voice wavering, “my God.”
What have I done?
Chapter Seven
I sit, moving my stare through the cave, landing on Dagon. The campfire’s dimmed, and most everyone else is asleep. My body tingles, like it’s no longer my own. I bite my lip, seeking to drown it out, when I see him.
Standing against the cavern’s wall, a few feet away, yet the look in his eyes says that he’s miles away. Distant, cold, confused. Hurt to the core. Dagon meets my eyes for only a second before portaling away, without so much as a goodbye or a don’t follow me.
Before the portal completely swallows him, I lunge for him, but my hands touch nothing but the stone wall. Cool and damp. My fingers curl into a fist, and I pound the wall gently, hating myself.
I hold in a sigh as I storm out of the cave. I pass Eve and Mike, gagging at their snuggly closeness. I pass the few kids that are left, and Penny sleeping by herself while Nat waits at the cave’s entrance. Moving past her without a word, I venture out into the darkness of the night, stumbling in the pitch-black world. I trip half a dozen times, falling on my hands, tearing my stupid dress.
The next time that I fall, I don’t get back up. I stay down in the dry dirt, my self-loathing overwhelming.
A stick behind me breaks, and an unsure voice speaks, “Are you all right, Lexa?”
Deb.
“What are you doing out here?” I say, blinking back tears. “It’s not safe for you.”
“The Locusts are on the other side of the world tonight,” she says. I feel her sit next to me. “What happened?”
I laugh bitterly. “You mean, you didn’t see it coming?”
Deb says, “You know I don’t see everything.”
“I did something awful.”
“What did you do?” It sounds as if Deb believes that I can do no wrong. How wrong she is herself for thinking that.
I hurt Dagon. I betrayed Dagon. I did the one thing that would break his heart. I let Lucifer get inside my head. I let him trick me, touch me in ways that Dagon hasn’t. I slept with the Devil himself and I enjoyed it. And that, that’s the most horrible part.
But I don’t say any of that. All I do is start to cry. Bursting, blubbering tears that I’m sure look truly hideous in the light. Thankfully, it’s dark. Deb reaches for me, pulling my face into her neck, hugging me, holding me, comforting me. I haven’t cried like this in months, since I watched Josefina die.
“He will forgive you,” she whispers.
“You don’t know what I did,” I say through choked tears.
Deb says, “I think I do. I drew a dragon today, and I started sketching a person under it. That person is you, isn’t it? And the dragon…”
“Lucifer,” I whisper.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that meant—”
“It probably would’ve happened anyway, even if you did finish the drawing and warned me.” I wipe my face, lifting my head off her shoulder. “The worst part is that I could’ve denied him more. I could’ve fought him more…but I didn’t. What kind of sick person does that make me?”
“Satan is the king of tricksters, the ultimate Deceiver. If he wanted to, he would’ve gotten you one way or another.” Deb rubs my back, much in a way I imagine a mother would to her child. Eve did no such thing as I grew up. “You might not believe it now, but Dagon will forgive you.”
I pick at my fingernails in the darkness. “He shouldn’t.”
Deb makes a pained noise, drawing my alarm.
“Are you all right?” Suddenly all concern is off of myself and my pity over my mistake, and all on Deb and her baby. “Do you need food? Water?”
“I’m okay,” she slowly states. “The time is coming.” Through her tone, I can tell that she’s scared. Scared for her child. Frightened to bring it into this messed up world. I don’t blame her. I’d be scared, too.
“Did David find the spell?”
Through the night, I picture her nodding. “He did, and once daylight comes, you and Dagon will go wherever the spell takes you.”
I’m ready to fight the pregnant girl on this. “I don’t want to go anywhere with Dagon, and I’m one hundred percent sure he doesn’t want to go anywhere with me.” Deb responds by taking my hand, standing us up, and leading us back to the cave. We pass Nat and the sleepers, stopping near her rucksack. David tosses in his sleep, muttering something about footwear.
Deb bends to retrieve her sketchbook—well, it’s more like a notebook that I found while hunting, full of hi
story notes, but it worked for her. And in times like these, beggars can’t be choosers.
“I never showed this to you because I knew you wouldn’t want to see it, but maybe now…” Deb flips the pages, stopping when she finds one of me sitting on the ground. I wear a t-shirt, the fabric pulled over my huge, pregnant belly. Dagon is beside me, his arms around me, hands on my stomach. “I finished this weeks ago.”
My current, flat stomach sinks. Whatever strange hope I had for the future is gone. Dagon and I can never be happy like that, not when I slept with his father while he watched.
Turning away, I mutter, “There’s no coming back from what I did. Thanks for trying, though.” I sniff, laying back down in the spot I usually share with Dagon. I don’t sleep the rest of the night, but I do an awful lot of wallowing.
Boatloads.
“Who the fu—” Mike catches himself around the kids. “—frick peed in your cereal this morning?”
I simply glare at him as I go to David. If somebody peed in my cereal, at least I’d have cereal, though it’d taste horrible. I keep my retort to myself, fearing that if I spoke, I’d lose it. One night of crying was enough for me. No more. I can’t afford to waste any more time.
Nat is busy asking David, “You sure this works?”
David is clearly getting annoyed. “I hope so.” He glances at me. “Where’s Dagon?”
“He’ll be here soon,” I lie. “Told us to start without him.”
With a shrug, David accepts my answer. “Okay.” The book of maps sits, open to an ancient world map on the floor. Cross-legged, David reaches for the hunk of crystals. He breaks off a single crystal, a makeshift pendulum. His spell book rests on his knee, the page with the spell facing him. “This is a two-parter. I hope the first part doesn’t wear me out too much, because it’s the second that’s most important.” He shoots me a look. “Which is why we need Dagon here. I should be able to teleport you to where he’s at, but I won’t have enough power to bring you back.”
“He’ll be here,” I repeat. “Just start the spell.”
Eve and Mike huddle around, and Penny squeezes my shoulder in a show of support. Deb, meanwhile, does her best to keep the kids’ attention off the Warlock and his crazy spell.
A Reckoning so Sweet Page 9
