Her Very Own Demon (Evil Rising, #3)
Page 5
He used to have one of his own, but the visions were so few and far between that it was exhausting to keep the prophets alive and contained. His last one died of starvation when Azazel forgot to send someone to feed him.
They might have the gift of sight, but they were just as fragile as any human.
“Is there anything else you can remember seeing?”
“That’s all. I promise!” The sobs had stopped by now, and the prophet answered all Azazel’s questions with resignation.
Azazel turned to his guards. “Have you located Lilith yet?” As the words came out, a pounding started on the outside door. “Bring her in.”
Within moments, a small and unassuming brunette walked in. She wore oversized glasses with messy shoulder-length hair obscuring her features. Azazel grimaced at the sight. “This is your body?”
“I take what I can get,” said the demoness. Azazel liked her better in tall blondes. Anyone who more closely resembled the demon she used to be before Lucifer cast her out. Now she had to possess mortals to stay alive, and the mortals never lived too long.
“What did you call me here for?”
He frowned at her tone. She used to jump for joy at the sight of him, but now she talked in short, clipped sentences. “Are you not happy to see me?”
Lilith eyed Samantha. “It looks like you were having plenty of fun without me.”
Azazel shook his head in denial. “There’s a baby for you in the back room. I saved him for you.”
Lilith arched one untrimmed eyebrow and he knew he had her hooked. “The prophet over there is the father. I need to know if he was lying about his vision.”
The prospect of asking for help grated Azazel. The damned souls churning away in Hell gave him almost limitless power, but he couldn’t force the truth from a prophet.
Luckily for him, out-of-body demons were perfect for digging around in a prophet’s mind. “I had to interrogate him since you weren’t here. I need to verify his story.”
She said nothing, but Azazel saw her look of annoyance. She was unable to transport anywhere in a human host.
“The girl is going to run,” said Lilith just before she threw her head back. The host gasped in a deep breath and started to cough profusely. Jackson jerked to the side as though he was hit with an invisible baseball bat.
Just as Lilith warned, the human host bolted for the door the second she regained her faculties. Azazel transported to just behind her, wrapped his muscled arm around her neck and squeezed until the human turned a unique shade of purple.
He wouldn’t kill her, but he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with more screaming.
Jackson thrashed on the ground as Lilith made her way through the dark corners of his mind. His status as a prophet protected him from possession, but Lilith could dig around while his mind was in the process of evicting her.
The timing for this couldn’t have been worse, but Azazel wasn’t surprised. His plan to destroy the barrier between Hell and Earth was not popular among the demons who liked the idea of easy prey who didn’t know that their souls were food.
Azazel didn’t care. It had been centuries since he killed Lucifer and took over Hell. It was time to expand.
Demons and angels alike would whisper about the demon king. Sure, he had the souls of Hell powering him, but they didn’t see him as their king. They couldn’t see a demon ever being as powerful as the archangel who created the Hell realm and everything inside it.
This would be his chance to prove that he was as powerful as the ring on his finger implied.
The merging had already started. It was an exhausting process, but within a few months, there would be a permanent hole between realms. Every day, Azazel would concentrate all his power on one spot, slowly degrading the barriers between Earth and Hell.
He couldn’t let a fallen angel slip by all of his barriers and keep him from this.
Jackson fell to the ground.
The human resumed her struggles in his arms, somehow knowing that Lilith was coming back for her. Curious, considering Lilith was invisible to the naked eye. Even Azazel couldn’t see her as she floated through the air.
The girl clenched her jaw, tightly shut her eyes and looked away from Lilith, but Azazel knew it was no use. If Lilith really wanted to get in, even the pores on the human skin were large enough to offer her access to the blood she needed to travel through to take over.
In a second, the girl relaxed in his arms. “Since when have you been into the librarian type?” Lilith rubbed her borrowed ass against his erection.
He abruptly removed his arms from her. “What did you see?”
She moved her lips to form a pout. He looked over her host again. At first glance, the woman appeared frumpy and mousey, but when he had her under his arm, her large breasts and tiny waist were obvious despite her loose clothes. Maybe Lilith had known what she was doing when she chose this body.
“He told you everything he knows. He’s so scared shitless of you that he is going to have to take laxatives for the next month.”
He nodded over to his guards. “Torch the house. We’re done here.”
Lilith’s mouth opened in shock. “What about my dinner?”
“I don’t want the angels to know we were here. Dead babies happen, but missing babies draw attention. This family is dead.” He transported back to his throne in Hell.
He sat on his seat decorated in demon bones and jewels. Lucifer’s severed finger, the one trophy Azazel kept to remind him of his victory, seemed to stare at him. Mocking his impending doom.
Azazel wished he had more to go on, but prophecy would have to be enough. There weren’t many fallen angels running around and even fewer female ones. Azazel was one of the first demons created by Lucifer. He was almost ten thousand years old, and in all that time he had never heard of a prophecy not coming true.
No matter what, he would see to it that this fallen angel died before she set foot in his kingdom.
Muriel was surprisingly comfortable when she woke. Even though her bed didn’t feel as soft as usual, she was surrounded by warmth. She tentatively pushed down on her mattress, trying to move closer to the heat. Her eyes shot open as she realized that she was lying atop a firm male chest.
Kier was underneath her with his eyes closed and breathing at a relaxed pace. Was he really sleeping? She knew demons didn’t sleep much, but it wasn’t unheard of.
She took the advantage to study him while he was vulnerable. His dark hair was a stark contrast to his pale skin, and his defined cheekbones and jawline stood out even more in his sleep.
At first, she thought his chest hairless, but up close she saw that it did have a delicate scatter of dark hairs, more so right underneath his belly button, leading down and below his pants. Her head tilted in confusion. Weren’t his pants black last night? They appeared gray now. When had he changed and why?
Looking back at his face, she let out a long exhale. It irked her that she’d been living as a mortal for five years and the only male she truly wanted to be with was the one she should want nothing to do with. Nonetheless, her attraction was undeniable. A little attraction was okay as long as she fought it and didn’t give in to the demon. He’d already taken far too much from her.
“Have you looked your fill?”
She didn’t jump or gasp at the suddenness of his deep voice penetrating the quiet of the morning. She supposed she was getting used to it. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she said, not denying that she was looking at him.
“Well, I’m awake and starving. Did this plan of yours involve feeding me?”
“Of course. I’m not evil,” she said with a smile.
She was struck by the wrongness of the moment. She shouldn’t be lying on top of a shirtless demon and smiling at him. This was not how the plan was supposed to work.
She cleared the expression off her face and led him off the bed. Together they made their way to the messy kitchen. Upon seeing the broken plates still scattered on
the floor, Muriel decided to put on shoes.
Neither of them talked, but Muriel felt Kier’s eyes on her every second. As if he were a predator just waiting to strike. He followed her without a word as she gathered eggs, bacon, and bread from the mess and started to make food. “So what do you plan to do with me for the duration of my stay?” asked Kier while the bacon was frying and filling the space with the delicious smells of breakfast.
“I have a pretty good cable package. And lots of books. I’m sure we’ll get bored at some point, but we all have our burdens to bear.”
“Yeah, about that. Your place is nice and all—at least it was before I got to it—but I’m not staying here.”
“Oh really? Where do you intend to go?” She turned the bacon over and put some eggs on to fry as she waited for him to answer.
“Someplace no demon will see the predicament I’m in. Someplace with a bigger bed,” he said.
Muriel knew that her rented house was small, but she wasn’t embarrassed by it. It was hers and she worked hard to afford it. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him taking her into his territory. At least in her own home she had a measure of security, but as long as she was bound to him, she was simultaneously protected and in danger. On one hand, he was furious with her; on the other, if she died, so would he. At least as long as the handcuffs were still on.
“How exactly do you plan on leaving?” she asked, trying to mask her thoughts.
“This might have escaped your notice, but since we’re not in Europe, if we need to go anywhere in a car, I’m driving.” He lifted his cuffed wrist to emphasize that it was his right wrist.
Muriel shrugged. “I’m fine going somewhere with you. I just want to remind you that it’s in your best interest to keep me alive.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” he whispered as she divvied up two plates of food for them.
Instead of sitting, they both stood around the counter. Kier moaned in pleasure at the taste of the bacon. “Oh my God! Where did you get this?”
Muriel smiled with pride. Angels didn’t eat, so cooking had been new to her. Despite the small amount of time she’d been mortal, living with a mortal roommate for a few years and working at Alexander’s gave her considerable skills in the kitchen. “I don’t have money to eat a lot of meat, but all the stuff I get is local. That pig was very happy while he was still alive and I like to think that makes it taste better.”
Kier smiled back at her, and the same sense of wrongness from the bedroom crept up on her. She was standing in her destroyed kitchen with a demon. They shouldn’t be having pleasant conversations over good food.
Kier’s smile abruptly disappeared. One strong arm wrapped around her waist as he lifted her feet off the ground and silently pulled her into her bedroom, abandoning their plates.
She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but then she heard it. There were footsteps in her house. Her heart sped with fear while her muscles tensed for a fight. She looked to Kier and he held up two fingers. “Two of what?” she silently mouthed.
He pointed to himself, meaning that there were two demons wandering through her house. But that made no sense. Now that she was mortal, demons didn’t even care about her.
Sense or no, it was happening, and Muriel was prepared for it. She motioned Kier to follow her as she reached behind a dresser. She threw a bag over her free shoulder that contained the paltry amount of funds she had managed to save, but, more importantly, she grabbed the gun and silver machete she had stashed for a rainy day.
Demons were hard to kill, but the old standards of fire and decapitation worked.
Kier took the machete, his mouth curved in approval of the vicious weapon. Normally she would prefer to have the more effective weapon, but Kier was stronger and faster than her at the moment, and, considering he had a vested interest in her well-being, she decided that the machete was his if he wanted it.
She checked to make sure the small handgun was loaded and put the extra rounds in her bag. She nodded her readiness to Kier and he pulled her flat against the wall next to the door. The demons were now silent to Muriel, but she could see Kier listening to their movements.
They were probably going from room to room, attempting to surprise her, not knowing that she had an ace up her sleeve. Well, attached to her sleeve.
As soon as they walked in, she and Kier would attack. She had used the same battle strategy countless times before, but never alongside a demon.
Her house was small, so it wasn’t a long wait before Kier tensed and she knew the demons were at the bedroom door. Because one of each of their hands was rendered useless by the handcuffs, they would have to make do with one arm, and Muriel didn’t know what arm was Kier’s sword arm.
It didn’t appear to be an issue. As the demons entered the room, Kier struck. One brutal blow caused the first demon’s head to fall to the ground, rolling away from the lifeless body. His accomplice lifted his own gun to strike Kier, but Muriel fired her rounds before he ever had the weapon fully lifted.
She knew that the bullets weren’t deadly to a demon, so she concentrated her fire on the arm that held the sword.
All three of her shots hit their mark and the sword clattered to the floor. Before the demon could regain his composure, Kier swung at his exposed neck. And then there were two disembodied heads on Muriel’s bedroom floor.
To Muriel’s shock, a third demon rounded the corner. Kier had said there were only two. Had he lied? Why would he?
Instead of lifting the machete, Kier raised his bound arm straight up, palm facing their attacker, and focused all his concentration on the demon. The demon took a running step toward them before his eyes widened in terror and his face contorted in agony.
Two seconds later, he burst into bright flames of hellfire. He screamed as the intense heat burned through his body, but it didn’t take long for the screams to stop. After a minute, the only evidence that there ever was a demon was the pile of ashes on Muriel’s carpet.
Adrenaline rushed through her as she stared at the bodies and shot a nervous glance over to Kier. She’d never met a demon who could obliterate another in hellfire, though she’d heard rumors. Only the most powerful, like Azazel, had the capability. And she had handcuffed herself to him. Stupid.
Kier looked over to her. They both gasped for air, even though the fight had only lasted seconds. Muriel should have been disgusted by the violence, but she couldn’t help the elation that filled her. She exulted in the carnage. As an angel, she saw sights like this on a daily basis. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it.
Allowing a target to think that they had the upper hand. Seeing their face when you swept the rug out from under them, right before delivering the death blow.
“You love this, don’t you?” remarked Kier.
Before she said anything, he was in front of her, clasping her head with his free hand as he bent down for a deep kiss. She didn’t fight him. She actually encouraged it, bringing her bound hand to his waist and the other to his shoulder to pull him closer. As his tongue pushed into her mouth, not only did she allow it, but she met it with her own.
She needed this. The bloody bodies and the rooms full of debris faded away as he kissed her. They won. They were alive and they needed this contact.
The kiss ended as soon as it had started. Kier pulled away and looked down at her. “There might be more. We need to leave.” His gaze at her now swollen mouth said that he wanted to do anything but leave the bedroom, but she knew he was right. Demons liked to travel in packs.
Muriel grabbed her small collection of magical shirts and bras before they cautiously left the bedroom. Kier walked out first, wielding the machete close, prepared to strike at the slightest sign of danger.
“What happened to there just being two in the house?”
“Apparently one was quieter than the rest. Does it matter? We took care of him easy enough,” pointed out Kier.
This wasn’t the time to argue, so Muriel let it dr
op.
The coast was clear through the entryway and kitchen. Kier picked up his jacket and handed it to Muriel to pack away with her own clothes. He paused at the door as they looked out on the street. “Which car is yours?”
Muriel pointed to a rusty old Ford parked on the street and Kier rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You drive that?”
Muriel got defensive. “The engine is in much better shape than the body. I love that car. It’s gotten me through a lot.”
“Well, it’s about to get you through a lot more. Did you notice the black SUV?”
Muriel nodded as she looked out at the imposing vehicle that sat across the street. “Unfortunately. My car is closer than theirs, though,” she said with a hopeful tone.
“We might be able to reach the car before they do, but do you think we can out-drive them? You say the engine is good?”
Muriel bit her lip. The engine was good, but nothing amazing. On the other hand, SUVs weren’t known for being fast. “I can shoot out the tires,” she offered.
Kier looked her over, and she almost thought he looked impressed. “You did have good aim with that demon.”
“I practice a lot.”
“I could tell,” he said. She was much too happy with his words of praise. “If you think you can, I’m game. We both have to get in the driver’s side. You probably won’t have a clear shot until we’re in the car, and the demons are going to be coming at us by then. I will be focusing on getting us the hell out of here, so you’ll be on your own.”
She arched an eyebrow at that. “I think I can handle a whole thirty seconds without your protection.”
“I hope you’re right, because if you die, I go too,” he reminded her.
“Let’s just get this over with.” She hated that her abilities were in question. She hated that she was the slowest and weakest player on the field. She handed Kier the keys to her car. “This is all your fault,” she hissed as Kier pushed the door open and they ran out into the sunlight.
The next minute went quickly. She ran as fast as she could, but she knew she was slowing Kier down. When they reached the gold Ford, Kier wrenched open the door and pushed her into the passenger seat. She looked out the window and saw the two demons were already out of the SUV and running at her.