Dark Kiss: A Reverse Harem Fairy Romance (The Twilight Court Book 12)

by Amy Sumida

  “Seren?” Astaroth dropped the blade he was holding; it clattered to the floor, startling me.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I whispered.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” he growled back and stalked over to me.

  “I was frustrated, and I said that I wished I could talk to you because you haven't been answering my scries. Then, bam, I'm here.” I leaned forward, eager for a fight.

  “You laleked,” Astar whispered.

  “Apparently!” I waved a hand at the Demon. “And you've been busy too, I see. Whatchu been up to, Star? Hanging out in your fancy house, drinking lattes, and scooping out eyeballs? Just your average day in Hell?”

  “One of Varcan's men used magic yesterday, and we were able to take him alive,” Astar said crisply. “I've been interrogating him.”

  “Is that what you call this?” A chime interrupted us, and I yanked my scry phone out of my jeans pocket. With a quick flick of my wrist, I flipped it open and brushed a finger over the crystal to answer. I held up a halting finger before Astar's face as Raza came into view. “I'm okay,” I said before he could speak. “I laleked to Astar. I guess I have to be more careful with what I say now.”

  “He's with you? You're safe?” Raza asked urgently.

  “Yeah.” I grimaced at the Lord of Hell and his bloody hands. “He's right in the middle of someone,” I said dryly. “I mean something.”

  Star rolled his eyes and went to a counter along one wall. He turned on a tap and started washing his hands.

  “Out damn spot, out,” I whispered to him.

  Star shot me a look that was half-annoyed and half-amused.

  “Have you asked Astar where the fuck he's been?” Killian's voice came from off-screen.

  “Not yet. I've only just got here. Give me a few minutes. I'll be back soon.”

  Raza narrowed his eyes but nodded, and I slashed a finger over the crystal to end the scry.

  “Now, where were we, Lord Astaroth?” I asked, my gaze skimming the groaning Demon on the torture table.

  Astar stretched his neck and shoulders as if searching for patience. He turned back to me with clean hands. “It has to be done.”

  “It doesn't appear to be working.”

  “He's a Demon; he's hard to break. But I'm a Lord of Hell; I will break him.”

  “Well, can you take a break from your breaking and have a conversation with the woman you gave some of your magic to?”

  Astar inclined his head and waved a hand toward a door. I walked primly to it and preceded him through, stepping into a stone hallway.

  “Take the stairs up and go right,” Astar directed me as he closed the door behind us.

  I did as he said, going to the stairs at the end of the corridor and then up them. At the top, I turned right. The only doorway there led into a kitchen done in hardwood and pale yellow with a huge island in the center. The butcher block island top had a vase of flowers on it and a pot rack hanging over it. A fresh pot of coffee sat by the stove. It was all very homey. I could imagine baking cookies in it with my children.

  “You have a torture chamber just off your country kitchen?” I gaped at him.

  “There's a wine cellar and a pantry down there too,” Star said as if it were all the rage to have a torture chamber next to a wine cellar.

  “Sure. Why dig out another basement just to hack someone apart in?” I quipped.

  “Seren, I'm not happy about you catching me in the middle of that,” Astar growled. “But I'm not ashamed of it either. Varcan has been abducting humans, and we need to know what he's planning.”

  “We?” I leaned a hip against the island and crossed my arms. “Is there a we? You could have fooled me.”

  Star sighed deeply. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure. Pale and sweet if you please.”

  Astar went to a cabinet and pulled out a couple of mugs. He took them to the pot and poured the coffee. All so ordinary. “There's cream in the fridge.”

  I went to the glossy black refrigerator and pulled out a pint of cream—in a glass bottle labeled in Italian. Astar passed me one of the mugs, and I poured the cream. He took the cream from me as he pushed over a sugar bowl. I stared at the pretty gold scrollwork on the porcelain as I spooned some sugar into my mug. The Lord of Hell's sugar bowl was dainty, and he bought his cream in Italy. I don't know why, but that kind of blew my mind.

  Astar went to a pair of French doors just beyond the end of the kitchen counters and opened one for me. “We can sit outside.”

  I took my mug and stepped past him, out onto a terrace. An iron cafe set waited on the slate tiles, looking as if it had been taken off the patio of a French chateau. Flowering shrubs and trees pressed in around the terrace, bunches of blooms dripping petals onto the stone. A bee buzzed nearby. I shook my head as I sat. I could have been in France or Tuscany. And yet, I knew there was a tropical garden somewhere nearby with entirely different atmospheric conditions.

  “I'm sorry,” Astar said awkwardly.

  “Three days, Star. You left us hanging in the wind for three days,” I said. “Why?”

  “Because of things like that.” He waved his hand back toward the house. “I saw you, Seren. I know you don't condone torture.”

  “You saw me?” I froze, remembering Varcan's words.

  “You saw her, didn't you?” Shit, of course, Varcan had meant me. How could I have thought otherwise?

  “The real you. When I healed you,” he clarified. “The echoes of our connection may be gone, but I still remember what I saw and what I've learned about you since then. I knew I'd have to fight you over things like this. And, frankly, I don't have the time for such bullshit.”

  “Bullshit, huh?”

  “As a Lord of Hell, I have to make hard decisions—do difficult, sometimes bloody, things,” he went on crisply. “I have to retrieve the Sakeen or Lucifer will punish me. That punishment will make what you just saw look like a nice massage. I can't afford your morals.”

  “What did Varcan mean when he said that you were fucked?”

  Astar flinched.

  “I know he was talking about me, but why are you fucked?”

  “I have no idea,” he lied smoothly.

  “Fine, don't tell me,” I huffed. “But you promised to help me, Star. You said we could call you, but then you refused to answer. What if I had been struggling with your magic?”

  “Were you?” Fear flashed over his face—quickly there and gone.

  “No, but I could have been.”

  Astar took a few deep breaths. “I'm sorry I ignored your scries.”

  “I just laleked to you. Without trying.” That sank in as I said it and I suddenly realized what was so terrifying about it. “I didn't have to envision your home; I just said that I wanted to speak to you and the magic brought me here.”

  “You didn't envision my palace?” Astar asked urgently.

  “No.”

  “That shouldn't be possible.”

  I let out a long breath. “Then Demons can't normally do this? They can't just focus on someone and appear before them?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “A Lord of Hell can use a magical connection, such as an open scry, to home in on someone and use that in place of envisioning a location. But your average Demon can't . . .” he trailed off.

  “What?”

  “That's it,” he whispered. “You have a piece of my magic. You have the power of a Lord of Hell and an open magical link to me.”

  “So this is a special case?” I started to relax.

  “Yes.” Star grimaced.

  I was relieved that Varcan could lalek directly to me as soon as I stepped past a ward, but Star looked disturbed. He'd probably thought his connection to me was broken, and he was free, but now we had something new to deal with. If I could lalek directly to him, he could probably lalek to me.

  “Are you upset with me?” I asked softly. “If you'd just tell me what I did, we can work past it.”


  “No, of course, not.” He grimaced. “You've done nothing wrong.”

  “You sure looked angry when you took off the other day.”

  “Because Varcan escaped.”

  “You looked angry with me,” I clarified.

  Astar looked away.

  “You are angry,” I said in surprise.

  “Not with you.” Star met my gaze. “With the circumstances. Look,” he said abruptly, “I'll finish up here and then join you. You're still at Drostan's, correct?”

  “Yes.” I grimaced at his finish here.

  “Unless you'd prefer to stay and watch?” His lips twisted wryly.

  I stared at Star. I had felt so comfortable with him just a few days earlier. As if we were best friends. Now, I felt a sliver of fear in my belly, unsure of him. He was obviously capable of anything, and although that wasn't automatically a bad thing, the Demon in pieces in his basement wasn't a ringing endorsement. Was the torture necessary? Perhaps it would save human lives. But I didn't think it was humans that Astaroth was worried about. He needed to get that dagger back before Lucifer held him accountable. If he was willing to torture a man to find the dagger, it must mean that he was desperate to avoid whatever Lucifer would do to him. He had said it would be far worse than what he'd done to the Demon. Fear was a hell of a motivator. Especially in Hell.

  Maybe I shouldn't be judging him so harshly.

  “Do you want someone with you?” I asked gently.

  Astar flinched and blinked at me. “What?”

  “It can't be an easy thing to do, and you're doing it alone,” I pointed out. “Do you want me to stay? I don't think I can help, but I can at least be there.”

  Air puffed past his lips, sounding shocked and amazed. “You . . .” Star swallowed roughly and straightened. “You don't have to do that. I can handle this.”

  Then I remembered what I could do. “On second thought, you might not have to.”

  Astar frowned as if he couldn't keep up with my sudden shifts.

  “Have you ever heard of humans getting fairy-struck?” I asked.

  “Yes, but that won't work on Demons.”

  “I'm not your average fairy. I have a magic called star-crossing,” I explained. “It's like fairy-striking but it works on fairies. And if it works on fairies—”

  “It might work on Demons,” he cut me off as he sat forward eagerly.

  “Yes.” I grinned and then took a sip of coffee. “Shall we give it a try?”

  Astaroth chuckled. “At your leisure, Your Majesty.”

  Chapter Fifty

  The Demon was whole by the time we returned to the basement, completely healed. He even had a fresh eye to glare at us with. It startled me, and I realized that I hadn't been thinking of him as an immortal. Torture took on a whole new layer of horror when you dealt with people who could heal every wound in minutes.

  Astar waved toward the man. “Whenever you're ready.”

  I went to stand behind the Demon's head. He craned his neck to watch me warily. Before he could figure out what I was up to, I sprinkled lavender dust into his blue eyes. The Demon blinked rapidly and thrashed his head, but then went still. His entire body went limp, and he set his stare on me as if I was his whole world.

  I looked up at Star and grinned. Okay, I smirked.

  “Well, fuck me. You did it,” Astar whispered as he looked from me to the Demon.

  I moved down to the Demon's side, and his stare followed me like a flower follows the sun.

  “What's your name?” I asked.

  “Eladeb,” he said tonelessly.

  “Un-fucking-believable,” Astar murmured. “I mean, I could have told you his name, but still.”

  “Imagine all the time and effort you would have saved yourself if you'd only answered my scries.” I couldn't resist the dig.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Astar said with a self-deprecating grin. “I was so very wrong to ignore you. I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

  I chuckled. “You're forgiven.” Then I went grim as I stared down at Eladeb. “You will not lalek until I give you permission.”

  Eladeb nodded.

  “You can unchain him now,” I said to Astar.

  “Perhaps after your interrogation.” Astar crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “This is Hell, after all. Who knows how long your fey magic will last.”

  “Very well, Mr. Doubting Thomas.” I focused back on Eladeb. “What is Varcan planning?”

  “He will surround Baron Drostan's home tonight with his army of humans and kill the humans, one by one until you surrender yourself to him,” Eladeb answered.

  “Fucking son of a hellbitch!” Astaroth pushed off the wall and snarled in Eladeb's face, “When?”

  Eladeb kept staring at me.

  “When exactly is he planning to do this?” I repeated the question.

  “After the sun sets. The Captain doesn't have a time planned. He's still trying to get as many humans drugged as possible.”

  “He's drugging them with Newt—the new Demon Newt?” I asked.

  “Yes, the unstable version we made with Demon magic. They will burn if he doesn't give them the antidote.”

  “There's an antidote?” I asked urgently.

  “Yes. The Captain plans on telling you about it tonight. That is how you can save them. He will administer the antidote if you surrender.”

  “What does he intend to do with her?” Star demanded.

  “I think that's obvious,” I said dryly.

  “Just ask him,” Star growled. “I want to hear precisely what he has planned for you.”

  “What does Varcan intend to do with me?” I asked Eladeb.

  “He will take you as his wife and beget many sons and daughters upon you,” Eladeb answered, making my skin crawl. “He will use you to protect himself from Lucifer and even Anu himself.”

  “How?” I asked. “How can I protect him from Anu?”

  “You are Anu's favorite. Beloved. Even more adored than Lucifer himself. All of Hell knows it.”

  “That's . . .” I made a soft sound as I glanced at Star. “That can't be true.”

  Star's face had shut down, his lips pressed together into a thin line.

  “It is true,” Eladeb insisted. “She who crosses worlds and races.”

  “What's he talking about?” I asked Astar.

  “The prophecy,” Eladeb answered before Astar could. “The words on the stone. The truth that not even Lucifer can erase.”

  “Astaroth!” I grabbed Star's wrist and yanked him away from the table so I could question him without Eladeb interrupting. “What stone?”

  Astar sighed and stretched his neck. I was beginning to recognize the movement as a tell. He was nervous.

  “A few centuries ago, I don't remember exactly when, an insane soul entered Hell. This soul was taken for punishment, but at the height of the torture, she broke free, and . . .”

  “And?”

  “She burned with white light. It wasn't fire; the Demons couldn't touch her. As she burned, she spoke and carved her words into a boulder. Many believe it's a prophecy, others think it's a curse. Lucifer attempted to obliterate it, but both the carving and the stone itself have proved impervious to his magic.”

  “What did she write?” I asked as a strange dread filled my belly.

  “I don't recall,” he said evasively.

  “Astaroth!”

  “I don't remember the scribbles of a mad soul, Seren,” Astar growled. “It happened hundreds of years ago. I gave it no credence.”

  “Even though Lucifer himself couldn't destroy it?”

  He shrugged.

  I narrowed my eyes at Star, then turned on my heels and went back to Eladeb. “What is written on the stone?”

  Eladeb spoke in the same monotone he'd been using, but it sounded eerie now, “She who crosses worlds and races, most beloved of Gods and Kings, will shine the light of justice upon Hell. Rise beside her or kneel before her, but destroy her, and you des
troy yourselves.”

  Something shook inside me. Premonitions. Prophecies. Visions. They were always so general. So vague. And this one was no exception. But to deny that the prophecy was about me would be pointless. I could feel the truth of it in my bones. A soul had gone to Hell hundreds of years before I was born and had warned the Demons about me. That I'd be coming to shine the light of justice upon their planet. I shivered. Then I turned to glare at Astaroth.