For the Hell of It (Razing Hell Book 1)

by Cate Corvin

  He leaned in, his chest pressing against my back, and put his mouth to my ear. “I’ll make it better.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I whispered. But he’d already made it better. He was like me, cast from Heaven, and he’d struggled to find his place here.

  If he could do it, I could do it, too.

  “I never make promises I can’t keep.” He released my shoulder and I tentatively flexed a wing. No pain radiated through my spine. “And here’s one thing that’s better.”

  “Thank you.” I rose to my feet and held out a hand to pull him up after me.

  We plunged off the roof and glided down to the courtyard far below. Flying with Lucifer gave me a peace I hadn’t known since my fall, and that emotion immediately put me on my guard. My walls were crumbling, whether I wanted them to or not.

  Azazel waited for us inside Blackchapel’s cathedral. I couldn’t hide the shy smile that stretched across my mouth and turned my face aside to hide it.

  No matter what they did for me- or to me- showing them how much I liked them would be a mistake.

  “It’s almost twilight,” Azazel said, his sharp eyes taking in the lavender circles under my eyes. He held out his arms, his fingers already turning to smoke and stars.

  I glanced up at Lucifer, meeting quicksilver eyes with a strange pang in my heart. It almost floored me a second later when I realized… I didn’t want to go.

  Either that, or I wanted him to come with me.

  Like Tascius, I felt an indefinable sense of security and protection when I was around him.

  But my Nephilim was waiting for me in the Seventh Circle. I stepped towards Azazel’s outstretched arms, only the tiniest hint of hesitation in my steps, and Lucifer’s lips curved into a small smile.

  “Don’t be sad. I’ll see you again, sooner than you think.”

  I touched Azazel’s fingers and felt myself vaporizing into smoke. “Who says I’m sad?”

  “It’s always a fight with you.” Lucifer sighed. “Your eyes are an open book.”

  I sank against Azazel as the rest of me became diaphanous.

  The problem was, not everything was a fight with me. If I’d held onto my anger the way I’d meant to, I already would’ve tried to slit their throats in their sleep. Assuming Azazel slept at all.

  Instead, I was starting to look forward to seeing them. It was impossible to tell if it was because they were twisting my mind, or because I genuinely liked them and wanted to be around them.

  Either option was a little terrifying.

  “It’s not always a fight,” I said, and reached out to Lucifer on a whim.

  He took my hand before I became nothing but shadows, but a second later my fingers passed right through his.

  Lucifer clenched his fingers, lowering his fist to his side. “It is. But there doesn’t have to be one between us.”

  “Not between us,” I agreed, and Azazel spirited me back into the sky, a stream of smoke gliding towards the Circle of Wrath.

  24

  Melisande

  “Will you be there for my next fight?”

  I wrapped my arms around Azazel’s neck as we flew. There were so many interesting things to look at below, but I couldn’t keep my gaze away from the bits and pieces I could see of his face through the veil of shadows.

  Violet eyes appeared in the smoke, grazing my own features like an almost physical caress. “We will.”

  We. Lucifer was going to be there.

  I couldn’t pretend my chest didn’t fill with warmth at the thought, along with an intense desire to make the next round count. Lucifer had, unfortunately, seen me at my weakest. Defeated by my own mind and fears.

  There was no reason to want to impress either one of them so badly, but I couldn’t help myself.

  We glided over the divide and Azazel banked towards the arena. He sank right through the obsidian roof, still holding me in his arms, and landed in my quarters in a swirl of glittering stars.

  He pulled his shadows back from me, and I was frozen for a moment as I regained solidity, pressed right up against him, my hands splayed over his broad chest. He looked back down at me with a fiery emotion burning in his eyes, one that I was afraid to put a name to. “Azazel, I…”

  “Right on time.”

  Azazel’s eyes iced over, and I whirled around. Belial lounged on my bed, one arm flung behind his head.

  He was half naked, as usual, reminding me forcibly of what Azazel had interrupted the last time I’d been with Belial.

  I was also quite sure he hadn’t been there two seconds ago when we’d landed.

  “Did you enjoy flying?” Belial asked, his eyes flicking from me to Azazel. His muscles were tense under his golden skin.

  “Of course I did.” I stretched my wings languorously and pulled them back in, tucking them against my shoulder blades.

  Belial relaxed almost imperceptibly, and I realized he’d just been fishing to know if Azazel had followed his thinly-veiled orders to let me stretch my wings.

  “Good. I hope they didn’t wear you out, angel. We have a fifth-round match for you.” A tiny smile stretched his mouth. “Or maybe it would be more exciting if they did wear you out. You might not kill it in ten seconds this time.”

  I tossed my hair over my shoulder, unable to prevent my wings from rustling with pleasure. “It might take me thirty.”

  “Twenty,” Azazel said. He ran his eyes over me, that ravenous hunger back. “If that.”

  “I’d bet on that.” Belial stretched like an oversized lion and rose from the bed, the muscles in his stomach flexing in a way that made me want to stroke them with fingers and tongue. I swallowed hard as he took a step towards me, threatening to sandwich me between two very delectable men. “What would you put up?”

  Azazel’s fingers gained solidity and combed through my hair. I almost purred under the touch. God, I was becoming depraved.

  “Capheira.”

  The name meant nothing to me, but a spark lit in Belial’s eyes. “Interesting. Then I would bet another day of the week that she wins within ten minutes.”

  “I call fifteen.” Azazel’s fingers slipped around my throat, stroking my skin possessively.

  Belial was close enough now that I could barely take a breath without my breasts touching his chest.

  “I thought we were betting on seconds,” I said, trying to sound indignant instead of breathless.

  Belial stroked my cheek. “I can promise this next one will give you a run for your freedom, my angel. No matter how vicious you are.”

  “You’d better last past ten,” Azazel whispered in my ear. “Give me another day.”

  If I didn’t know how much they hated each other, I would’ve thought this was a planned attack to break down my defenses.

  “Maybe I’ll bet on myself.” I tried to take the shallowest possible breath, but there was no escaping. Not with Azazel’s fingers stroking my feathers and Belial’s hand on my cheek. “Two minutes, and I get a day of freedom every week until my seventh round.”

  Belial’s dimple deepened with his smile. “It’s a bet, angel.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Just because he was so cocky about it, I’d make sure to manage the kill in one minute instead.

  I also needed to get the fuck out of this trap before I melted on one or both of them.

  “When were you thinking?” I slid sideways, tugging to extricate myself. As soon as I popped free, the two of them seemed to realize how close they were standing together, and jumped apart like they’d been burned.

  I would’ve laughed at the sight of two burly men leaping away from each other if I wasn’t so fired up to go win my day of freedom. Even so, it was impossible to hold back a smirk.

  Belial cast an annoyed glance at Azazel. “Tomorrow-”

  “Tonight,” I interrupted firmly. “I want to fight now.”

  I was a little tired from my journey through the Fields of Asphodel, but Lucifer had completely worked out t
he cramp in my wing, and bloodlust would make up for the lost energy.

  Besides, it was one round closer to total freedom.

  Azazel’s jaw tightened. “After what happened today, I don’t think-” He cut himself off when Belial shot him a look, flames dancing in his eyes.

  “After what happened, exactly?” he asked, his tone silk over steel.

  I shrugged, my wings imitating the movement along with my shoulders. “We flew through the fields and I… came across a memory-rift. Nothing happened.”

  Belial’s arms were trembling minutely, and his teeth seemed to be lengthening the longer he gazed at Azazel, the fire in his eyes deepening, his hair lightening to gold…

  “Nothing happened.” I stepped in front of him and put my hands on my hips, glaring upwards. Belial jerked his head, meeting my eyes. “Lucifer was there. I saw some things, I got out fine. At least they let me fly.”

  I couldn’t believe I was saying such a thing, like it was a huge privilege- an angel, being allowed to fly. Might as well tell a fish it was allowed to breathe water.

  But if Belial shed his human skin and became a massive lion in here, his bulk was going to fill the entire room, crushing everything in it.

  Including me.

  He exhaled, a cloud of steam rising from his nostrils, but his teeth began to look more normal and his hair was dark again. Feline crisis averted.

  “If you can’t take care of her, I’ll renege on this favor and deal with the consequences,” he said to Azazel, lips drawing back over his teeth.

  “Try me, Prince,” Azazel hissed back. “She’s not a bird to be kept in a cage.”

  He had a point, although he was the asshole who’d referred to me as a sparrow the first time. Even Belial hadn’t hit that far below the belt.

  One of Belial’s powerful arms wrapped around me. I looked up into brilliant aqua eyes, struck by how bright the flecks of gold in them were. “Fight tonight, then,” he said thickly. “You’re already tired. I’ll win Capheira for you.”

  “I don’t know what Capheira is, but yes, I’m ready.”

  There was a fraught moment where I thought he was going to kiss me, Azazel’s presence be damned, but Belial snapped his fingers.

  I stared at his hand, expecting something to happen.

  “I have something for you as well.” Azazel sounded stiff again, as clipped as he had the first time I’d ever met him.

  My bedroom door burst open, and Vyra entered in a flurry of white veils. “You called, sir?” she asked sarcastically.

  So Belial’s snap had been a summons. He spun me around, his hands on my shoulders, and walked me to the dressing table. “She’s in your hands. I want her ready for her fifth round within the hour.”

  He ran his fingers over my clavicle when I sat down, a caress that was somehow both innocent and erotic in one simple stroke.

  Vyra clapped her hands together. “Yes! Everyone, get out. I have work to do.”

  She shooed Belial with her fingertips, but his burning gaze held mine until she practically slammed the door in their faces.

  Azazel phased right back inside on a glittering wind. “This next one is from me, Vyra.”

  My succubus clothier sighed. “Fine, but make it quick. I’m working on limited time here.”

  I watched with more anxiety than was really warranted as Azazel flicked his fingers and sent a box flying from the top of my wardrobe. It landed on my bed with a soft thump, and he nodded his head at it.

  “That’s for you,” he said stiffly. “You don’t seem fond of the… the lace and strings my sister likes so much.”

  Vyra made a face at him as I got up and went to the bed. The box was shimmering purple, which didn’t fill me with confidence for the contents despite his words.

  I pried off the top and gasped. Neatly-folded black leather greeted me, with no sign of anything sheer or sparkly.

  I pulled out each piece, running my hands over the soft but strong and flexible materials. He’d given me leather pants and a pair of protective sleeves that fit from neck to wrist, a soft training bra, and a corset made of the same leather and wrapped with silver-beaded cords.

  It was functional, but it had just enough flair to please Belial and the dazzle-loving denizens of the Seventh Circle.

  “Azazel, I love it,” I breathed, and another, smaller box drifted down to join it. I peeled away the lid to reveal a set of silver, deadly sharp nail sheaths, one for each finger. They’d tear through an enemy’s flesh like butter. A shudder of delight ran through me at the thought.

  “The claws were my idea,” Vyra said smugly, waggling her fingers. “And you might not be fond of the lace and strings… but he is.”

  Azazel’s eyes rolled upwards, but his jaw was still tight.

  I realized he was nervous. An ancient deity who’d trafficked with interdimensional demons was nervous about giving gifts to a woman.

  It was actually endearing.

  “It’s perfect. Thank you, Azazel.” I hesitated, still clutching the pants and the box of claws, wondering if I should hug him, if he’d appreciate the gesture… or if I’d just come off as silly. “This is all I want to wear from now on. No more strings.”

  Vyra’s vividly pink eyes widened. “But… lace?”

  I clutched my new pants tighter, then conceded, unable to resist her puppy looks. “Maybe some lace, sometimes. But not all lace.”

  Azazel ran a hand through his black curls, his shoulders relaxing a little. “I’m glad you like it,” he muttered. “But remember- fifteen minutes. Just tease whatever it is for a little while.”

  “He just wants to watch you dance around in tight pants,” Vyra said under her breath.

  Azazel leveled a glare at her, his eyes flashing. The succubus shrugged, giving him an innocent, doe-like smile. “Smite me if it’s not the truth.”

  The Watcher held his glare, and finally sighed. “I cannot smite.”

  He cast me another glance and vanished in a swirl of smoke.

  “I don’t think he knows what to do with you,” Vyra said, dragging me back to the dressing table.

  “He’s a Watcher and he’s… well, he’s gorgeous.” I watched her in the mirror as she carefully detangled my hair. “Couldn’t he have hordes of beautiful demon women, if he wanted?”

  “Yes, but that’s the problem. They’re usually throwing themselves at him, not trying their hardest to get away.” Vyra snorted. “Even if you weren’t a fallen angel, that alone was guaranteed to catch his attention.”

  I mouthed the word “oh” and stripped off my training clothes to pull on the leather outfit he’d given me.

  It was skintight, every inch practically painted on, but it was a far cry less revealing and more protective than anything else I’d fought in so far.

  There was no way in Hell I was going to hold off on killing my adversary for fifteen minutes, though. Even if I didn’t desperately want a day of freedom, I’d always hold to strike first, strike fast, strike hard.

  “Will you find Tascius?” I asked as she slipped the silver sheaths over my nails. I flexed my fingers, the silver filigree catching the light, reminding me of the quicksilver of Lucifer’s eyes. “I want him to be there for this.”

  “He’s already there. He beat an incubus half to death shortly before you got back.” Vyra made a moue with her glossy lips. “The incubus had half the ladies in the audience swooning, but honestly, I’ve seen better.”

  “Like yourself?” I smoothed my hair back and rolled my shoulders, prepping for the upcoming fight. I was already loosened up from flying.

  “Obviously, it’s not even a contest.” Vyra dabbed some black paint on my eyelids as my door cracked open. My heart stuttered at the sight of pale blonde hair.

  “I’m back, friend.” I smiled at him, but the expression slid off my face when I took in his grave appearance. “What’s wrong?”

  Vyra glanced at him and sealed her pot of kohl. “I’ll just leave you to it, then.” She leaned in close
and hissed in my ear. “Fifteen minutes, and do not mess up your hair before you go out.”

  As soon as she was gone, I stepped forward to grip Tascius’s hands. Despite the odd sensation of wearing heeled boots, they were as comfortable as going barefoot.

  “You couldn’t have waited for this round until tomorrow?” he asked. Dried blood was still streaked across his forehead, and multiple purple bruises were blooming across his chest and arms. I bit my lip, wanting to kiss each and every one of them.

  “Of course not. It’s one step closer to being free, and both Belial and Azazel have bets on me. If I can kill it in two minutes, I win one day of freedom per week.” I reached up and touched his lips, hyper-aware of how much we could do in fifteen minutes, and that Vyra would kill me herself if I walked out of here without every strand in place.

  “You’re not going to kill it in two minutes,” he said flatly, his midnight eyes dark.

  I held back an annoyed sigh. “Thank you for your unwavering faith in my abilities, Tascius.”

  Tascius leaned down to kiss me, the touch feather-light. He winced when my lips met one of his bruises, but kissed me harder anyways, his hands running over me in a way that had my blood stirring, and not because of the upcoming fight.

  There was desperation in the kiss. My stomach knotted, and I broke away, gazing into his face. “You’re kissing me like I’m about to die. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Tascius’s hands gripped me hard enough to hurt. “He has a manticore, Melisande. So yes, you might be dying tonight.”

  My happiness at seeing him faded, replaced with a cold trepidation that ran through my veins like ice. “A manticore?”

  “If you even look like you’re about to lose, I’m stepping in,” he said fiercely, pulling me close, but I did what I’d always done.

  I yanked the hard shield of determination over my fear, blocking it away. “Don’t break the rules for me, Tascius. I don’t want you being punished.”

  “The thing’s been starved for days and it has the madness, you’re not going to-”