For the Hell of It (Razing Hell Book 1)

by Cate Corvin

  I held out my arms. “Ta-da. I told you I’d be fine.”

  He gave me a look of exasperation, and Belial laughed. “Never had a doubt, angel.” He pointed at Azazel. “You owe me Capheira. Ten minutes exactly.”

  Azazel looked like he’d just barely resisted rolling his eyes. “She requires special accommodations.”

  “And she’ll have them.”

  Now that I was in the safety of Belial’s rooms, surrounded by men who could rip through just about anything at will, I finally felt like I could surrender to the emotional and physical exhaustion of the match.

  I collapsed into a chair next to Tascius, groaning as my wing cramped again.

  It was hard to believe that only minutes ago, I’d been inches away from the archnemesis of Heaven.

  Those few fraught minutes felt like a million years ago.

  “Lucifer, what exactly did you mean by Satan not really being Satan?” I peered at him through cracked eyelids and draped my hand over the side of the chair so my fingers were brushing Tascius’s.

  He wasn’t content with that slight touch. Despite the other three demons in the room, he laced his fingers through mine, gripping me tightly. A smile tugged the edges of my lips when I glanced at him, but Tascius was stony-faced.

  “That was just a figment of his larger self, the Red Dragon.” Lucifer rubbed his jaw with two fingers, quicksilver eyes pinning me in place. “He can possess bodies or nocturnal creatures to leave the Pit, but each body is only a tiny fraction of the whole.”

  I blinked. All the deadly power emanating from him had been almost overwhelming, but that was only a sliver of him?

  I couldn’t fathom descending into the Pit sunk in the center of Dis to face all of him at once. It would turn anyone’s brain to mush.

  “How did he get in here in the first place?” Tascius grated out, glaring at Belial.

  The Prince of Wrath poured a glass of wine and brought it to me. I accepted it gratefully, but I was so tired only a few sips went to my head immediately.

  “I’m not going to expend the energy to keep him out.” Belial sank into the last chair, sprawling out lazily with his legs spread wide. “Or give away my hand just to make a show of force. His little figments can’t do anything to me in my own realm, and my angel isn’t going anywhere. She has nothing to fear.”

  He held up his left hand and waved his palm, and everyone glanced at my hand tangled in Tascius’s.

  Belial lowered his hand, looking smug. “That brand will supersede any flower.”

  “How many do you have under your banner, Belial?” Lucifer’s gaze darted to the other prince. His wings were held stiffly, betraying his guardedness.

  Belial’s eyebrows rose. “What do you think this is, Morningstar? We have a common desire, therefore we’re allies? No.”

  “One Prince alone can’t win against him,” Lucifer said, voice tight. “Hell knows I’ve tried.”

  I was too tired to straighten up, but a glimmering idea formed in the back of my head.

  Lucifer was going to attempt patricide. That was why he was with Azazel, why the Watcher was so determined to mold my magic. Angels, even fallen ones, were stronger when they worked together.

  And based on what I’d heard, Belial was gathering most of the forces of Hell under his banner, the Seventh Circle.

  They all needed each other to accomplish what they wanted, but their hate kept them apart.

  “Too bad Gabriel didn’t do it the way he was prophesied to.” I took another gulp of wine, licked off a droplet clinging to my lower lip. Four pairs of eyes focused on that tiny movement. “I guess he was too busy raising the dead for his army.”

  Azazel shimmered in place, going in and out of corporeal reality. “Which makes no sense. He wouldn’t have needed to raise them if he’d just killed Satan to begin with. All of the mystical canon is quite clear that Gabriel would be the one to accomplish it.”

  My idea sparkled and twisted, begging for attention, looking more appealing the longer I turned it over. Or maybe it was just the wine plundering my brain.

  “You need an inside man,” I declared. “Or woman.”

  Lucifer let out a bark of a laugh. “Oh, no, Melisande. Don’t get those ideas. I’ve seen the concubines’ palace.” His eyes darkened, going steel gray. “It is not the kind of place you’d want to be.”

  “I sold a piece of my own soul to keep Erisvyra out of there,” Azazel added softly. “There was no higher price he could’ve asked.”

  “I forbid it.” Tascius glanced at me, his jaw set, midnight gaze hard.

  Belial just grinned behind his hand.

  I set my empty wine glass on a table and leaned forward. “Lucifer… what would it take to kill your father?”

  “High treachery is afoot,” Belial whispered in a sing-song voice, waggling his eyebrows and not looking entirely sane when he followed my glance to Lucifer.

  But Lucifer Morningstar gazed back at me, his silver eyes glittering. His hand had frozen on his jaw, mid-stroke.

  I wondered if I’d gone too far. Maybe only the princes of Hell were allowed to consider regicide as a viable option.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” I told them all. “You’ve all just about spilled your secrets in front of me. I’m not going to go running to Satan, not now that he’s offered me a place with his concubines.”

  “It was less of an offer, more of a demand,” Azazel said quietly.

  “He can shove his demands back up his infernal ass.” Belial sounded perfectly confident that Satan would never have me, which was… incredibly reassuring. I never thought I’d feel that way for him.

  Lucifer lowered his hand from his face, crossing his arms like the Watcher. He never looked away from me. “It would take the Sword of Light to kill him.”

  Tascius’s fingers tightened around mine almost convulsively. My heart skipped a beat, and I wondered if Lucifer had put two and two together, if someone had overheard what I’d told Tascius…

  He’d realize he’d have the one person in the universe besides Gabriel who’d ever touched the Sword and lived.

  “Or its polar opposite.”

  I held back a sigh of relief.

  Now that I’d not only given in to sin but welcomed it into my spiritual temple with open arms, I didn’t think I’d be able to touch the Sword of Light again without being disintegrated on the spot.

  I still wasn’t sure what had enabled it the first time- God knew I hadn’t been pure of heart while I was human.

  But the Sword’s opposite? Surely it’d be worth a try…

  “Good thing everyone here is so comfortable with treachery.” I held up my wine glass when Belial leaned forward with the bottle. He poured a generous amount, aqua eyes dancing. “But I suppose that’s what you get when you deal with demons.”

  The tiniest hint of a smile finally broke through Lucifer’s stern mask. “Speak for yourself.”

  “Are you calling me a demon, Morningstar?” I took another drink, allowing the alcohol to numb the pain in my back.

  “He’s saying you could give one a run for its money,” Azazel said dryly. “Most angels don’t fall and immediately start plotting Satan’s death.”

  “I’ve been here for several weeks, that’s hardly immediate-”

  “I think we understand each other better than you think we do.” Lucifer’s wings rustled as he spoke.

  I drained the rest of the second glass and winced when I sat up. The muscle in my back was completely knotted again. “And now we’re all in agreement on how to murder the King of Hell. See how much gets done when you stop arguing and play nicely?”

  They all looked at each other, as though just realizing they’d managed to present a united front for the last ten minutes.

  All for my sake.

  And just like that, the tentative bond of truce was broken. It went right back to the old battle of testosterone: Belial eyeing Azazel, Tascius’s hand still clamped around mine, and Lucifer’s stoic expressio
n back in place.

  Of course the Morningstar’s sharp eyes didn’t miss my grimace. “Let me take you to bed.”

  “You have no business being in her bed,” Belial said smoothly, already rising to his feet.

  Azazel cast him a sharp look. “Her flight muscles are strained from disuse. As I’ve said before, you always fail to anticipate her needs.”

  “I’m not a pet, assholes,” I growled.

  Lucifer shouldered past Belial and scooped me up from the chair. Tascius was suddenly between him and the door, nostrils flared, darkness flickering in the depths of his eyes.

  “You don’t get to carry her out of here like you own her,” he said softly, the silken steel of a threat in his tone.

  He and the fallen angel were of a height, but Tascius had another inch on him. They glared at each other, threatening to squash me between them.

  “If you want your mate to fly again, you’ll let me help her without me having to dismember you first,” Lucifer said, his tone cool.

  Tascius’s lips tightened at the mention of a mate. Only the two of us knew that I hadn’t realized what I’d done when I’d given him my feather.

  Azazel appeared at Tascius’s shoulder, touching him with light fingers. “Let him do this. Melisande’s wing needs attention.”

  Lucifer might hold no sway with Tascius, prince or not, but his savior Azazel did. Tascius hesitated, then leaned in to firmly kiss me. I wound my fingers through his hair, my own feather brushing my skin, and tugged him closer.

  “Tomorrow is ours, friend,” I whispered against his mouth. Tascius reluctantly nodded and stepped aside to let Lucifer carry me away.

  The wall slid open to reveal my own quarters. Belial’s arms were crossed, his fists clenched, but he let us pass. I touched his arm as Lucifer strode by.

  Belial released a long breath, a little smoke coming out with it.

  Tascius’s cold, chiseled features and Belial’s scowl were the last things I saw before the wall slid shut.

  Lucifer carried me to my bed and gently placed me on the covers, careful to keep my wings from being crushed beneath me.

  “Where’s Vyra?” I asked, laboriously kicking off my boots and flopping face-first into the covers to reach behind my neck and unbutton my sleeves.

  “Azazel brought her to Blackchapel,” Lucifer said. “That’s where she feels safest, because Satan doesn’t- can’t- go there. There are some old accords against it, but every time he’s tried to use a secondary body to enter, it falls apart. The old cathedral was never deconsecrated.”

  A moment later his fingers were working at my spine, unfastening the leather corset.

  I shimmied my arms out of the protective sleeves and flung the garment across my nightstand. “I feel so awful for her,” I whispered, sliding my silver sheaths off my fingers. Lucifer gathered them and put them aside.

  Even if Belial’s mark didn’t protect me, I knew I would have fought tooth and claw against Satan if he’d taken me. Despite her claws and wings, something in Vyra seemed dangerously fragile, a strength that seemed one hard push away from breaking.

  I was at least going to teach that succubus how to throw a punch, if she couldn’t already. It would be awful to live your whole life in constant fear.

  Your life in Heaven was constant fear, a sly voice whispered.

  I couldn’t deny that. In Heaven, there was the constant terror of disappointing Gabriel and receiving one of his terrible punishments, of tripping Raguel’s hair-trigger temper, or the days when Barachiel came down to train us. His watchword was pain, almost more so than Gabriel.

  Then there were the tense months when Selaphiel selected which angels he wanted included in the next breeding cycle, sometimes taking the females who hadn’t wanted to go. Their beauty or strength was their downfall.

  Here in Hell, my only fear was disappointing myself. I chose my own mates.

  Lucifer made me raise my ass so he could pull the corset out from under me. Then the mattress sank around me as he climbed onto the bed astride me, his hands stretching my wings out.

  “Vyra has us to protect her,” he said, his touch lingering on my mostly-bare back. Only the straps of my bra kept me covered. “And so do you, so stop fucking fighting it.”

  27

  Melisande

  I would’ve snorted in derision, but his thumbs sank into my shoulders and I suppressed a groan instead.

  “Why wouldn’t I fight it? You’re the heir to Hell. That doesn’t make you very trustworthy, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Mmm.” Lucifer dug into the knot in my back, making me gasp. “I could say the same about you.”

  I gripped the sheets, my shoulders tightening under the pressure of his hands, but the pain felt good, too. “How am I not trustworthy?”

  He shifted on me, and I was suddenly very aware of how close his cock was to my ass. He leaned over me to rub the tension out of my shoulders and I felt his relaxed wings brush my skin, sending a shiver through me.

  To my embarrassment, goosebumps rose on my skin everywhere he touched. I felt like I was both freezing cold and burning up at the same time.

  “Falling is the absolute last resort an archangel uses,” Lucifer murmured, dragging his fingers down my spine. “And you won’t tell us what made them push you. For all we know, the whole thing is a cover story, and you’re here because you want to be. Perhaps Gabriel sent you”

  He was fortunate I was too tired from shock and exhaustion to be genuinely offended by that suggestion. I turned my head just enough to see him from my peripheral vision and made a face. “Really? Why in Heaven would I want to be here?”

  “Oh, let’s think of all the possibilities… to assassinate me. To cause chaos in the Prince of Wrath’s Circle. To get closer to one of the oldest of the Grigori.”

  “I suppose assassinating you would please Gabriel.” I folded my hands under my head, pillowing my cheek on them and keeping my Sword-scarred palm from showing.

  “Absolutely. It’d be like his birthday coming a few millennia early.”

  “He might even pull the enormous stick out of his ass to celebrate for a few minutes.”

  “Fuck, he might even take credit for it.”

  I did snort at that. Gabriel would take all the credit. “Then I guess it’s a good thing for you that I have zero desire to please Gabriel.”

  And that was the absolute truth. From the moment I’d realized how close I’d come to becoming one of Satan’s poor, doomed concubines, I’d had an idea.

  It was a lovely idea. A glorious idea that had become a solid plan of action, the very best kind.

  If I pulled it off, Gabriel would be ripping his hair out for the rest of existence. I could wait a while for his death just to know he was suffering.

  I was going to kill Satan first.

  And I was going to make sure everyone damn well knew it. Gabriel’s name would be stricken from the rolls of religious canon, to be replaced by Melisande. The angel who slew the Red Dragon.

  He would just be a footnote to history. That Guy Who Had A Shiny Sword and Did Nothing of Value With It.

  I smiled to myself at the thought. He’d be screaming. Literally.

  Gabriel’s fits of tempers were terrifying when you were under his thumb, but since I no longer gave a single fuck about making him proud or what he thought… I’d laugh my ass off to see him red-faced and shrieking when he realized he was no longer the Chosen One.

  “What are you smiling about, Melisande?” Lucifer reached up to brush my cheek before he returned to my back.

  “The look on Gabriel’s face when I fuck up his entire world.”

  Lucifer stretched my wing, and I folded it without pain. To both my happiness and dismay, he didn’t get up, keeping me pinned to the bed while he simply stroked my back. The light touch sent shivers down my spine.

  “I’ll be honest, it’s your need to see Gabriel brought down that makes me trust you,” he said, his voice a little rough. “Nobody could fa
ke that kind of hatred. I see the same thing in you that I see in myself, and against all reason, I want to defend it against the worst of Hell.”

  I took a shallow breath. No, I couldn’t entirely trust the Morningstar… but he and I were alike in more ways than I’d wanted to acknowledge.

  Lucifer rose up onto his knees when I shifted, and I wriggled under him until I was laying on my back.

  I gazed up at him, taking in the gold-and-silver beauty that had once been the brightest of Heaven, now covered in thick, swirling lines of ink, but Hell’s markings didn’t lessen that beauty. They just emphasized the more savage side of it.

  And what were we angels made to be, if not savage?

  Even my choir had been named for it. There was no repentance, no mercy, no forgiveness. I’d been raised to hold a blade and kill.

  At least Lucifer was honest about what he was, both on the inside and the outside. There were no halos for him.

  “But Lucifer,” I whispered, trying my absolute hardest not to stare at his massive, muscular thighs. “What makes you think I need protecting? Maybe you should stay behind me.”

  He looked down at me incredulously, then a wide grin spread across his face and he threw back his head and laughed.

  “You think it’s very funny, but I’ve got a big spear.” I pretended to look miffed, but he was entrancing when he laughed like that, all the lines of strain leaving his face. “Biggest one in Hell, in fact.”

  “Do you?” he said, practically purring. Those mercury irises flashed between dark lashes, and he leaned forward, his ebony wings spreading around me. “I’d beg to differ.”

  Being shrouded in his dark wings felt like being shielded from the world. There were only the bare inches of empty space between us, and Lucifer’s laugh-crinkled eyes and full lips.

  “You can’t differ with the facts,” I said, but my mouth had gone dry.

  He was much too close. Only a breath away, the one Gabriel had reviled, had warned us away from…