Hell's King (Hell's Son Book 3)

by Eve Langlais

  “So he claims.”

  “He wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “Lying would be a natural thing for the son of the Devil.”

  “To anyone else, yes, but Chris doesn’t lie to me.” If anything, he was honest to a fault.

  “Honey, how do these pants look on me?”

  “Like your ass is flat, and while you’re changing them, you might want to swap that shirt. It gives you linebacker shoulders.”

  “If your husband isn’t lying, then where is he going at night?”

  “I don’t think he knows.” Each time, the morning after when she asked him how his night was, he replied, “Slept like a baby with a brandy soother.”

  Either he lied, or he truly thought he slept.

  Which was why the last time he’d gotten drunk and sleepwalked, she’d tried to follow him, only to get stymied when he took their one and only means of transportation. Their secondhand, piece-of-crap car.

  Relaying the dilemma to Evangeline, Isobel had been offered the use of her sister’s broom, but given that Isobel’s magic was still in a wonky, learning stage, she didn’t trust herself on a slim rod suspended dozens of feet in the air.

  As for using a regular car with her sister driving—because no way was Eva loaning Isobel her wheels after what had happened to Isobel’s last car—she didn’t trust Eva to keep Chris alive if she didn’t like what they discovered.

  Hence why she’d called Charlie. He was the only person she could think of who wouldn’t automatically kill Chris. Even the angels kept a wary eye on her husband. Rumor was they had orders to step in and kill Chris if he so much as twitched a finger in the direction of world domination, which was better than their previous modus operandi of: kill the Antichrist. Still, this constant watching… I’ll have to do something about it. She didn’t want anything getting in the way, if and when her husband finally fulfilled his destiny.

  She’d hoped that having Charlie over would help her find a way to remove the angelic guards. He did, after all, have an in with their boss.

  Bad idea. Instead, her ex-beau had deliberately baited her husband, eyeing her in a way that wasn’t appropriate with any married woman, let alone one married to the Antichrist.

  And here she was, alone with her ex, in the kitchen where she’d blindly followed as Charlie fixed himself an ice pack.

  “You should go.” She slammed the freezer shut, only to have him trap her hand with his.

  She stared at his fingers. Tanned. The nails blunt and clean, his skin smooth, not callused. She didn’t get the same rush that she always got with Chris.

  Charlie, though, felt something he shouldn’t. “I never told you… I wish I’d defied my father and called you after that summer.”

  Because God hadn’t approved of his son dating the granddaughter of a sorcerer. Never mind that Elyon had had his son born for his zillionth incarnation into a silver-spoon family that skirted every environmental law it could. She was the bad one.

  Tugging her hand free, she turned from him. “No point rehashing the past. Truth is, you didn’t call, not even when you finally struck out on your own. Not saying that you should have,” she hastily added. “Just that it was one summer when we were teenagers.” That she’d kind of forgotten.

  “One glorious summer,” said the guy who seemed determined to rehash the past.

  She braced her hands on the counter by the sink as she faced him. “I’m married, Charlie.”

  “To a man who doesn’t appreciate you. Who’s off getting drunk by himself.”

  “Are you telling me you never drink alone?”

  “I’m almost never alone.”

  “That’s kind of sad.” She wrinkled her nose. “Everyone needs alone time.” A chance to get in tune with oneself.

  “I want to see you again,” he said as she went to the door and opened it, standing to the side, a silent indication that he should leave.

  “Still married,” she reiterated.

  “And if you weren’t?”

  “That’d better not be an intro to an offer to kill my husband and make me a widow.”

  “You know how my father feels about murder.”

  She knew how Elyon felt, but looking at Charlie’s intent gaze, she had to wonder about him. After all, he wasn’t the one in charge, making up all the rules. On the contrary, her understanding was that his daddy bent quite a few of them for his errant son. Was murder really out of the realm?

  Funny how she’d never entertained these thoughts before. Being with Chris and marinating in his cynicism had her finally seeing other possibilities, hearing the double entendres in people’s words.

  Jesus as a killer, though? So profane, she just couldn’t fathom it.

  “I think you should go.”

  “What of your husband?” Charlie asked.

  “You let me worry about my husband.”

  “I thought you needed help following him.”

  She did. But not Charlie’s help. Calling her ex had been a mistake. Since Uber took too long to arrive, maybe she’d have to bite the bullet and buy some extra wheels. Their budget couldn’t handle it, but—

  “It worked.”

  What worked? Then it hit her. The beer, the weed, the deadly combination she’d encouraged all evening long.

  She snapped to attention and looked out to where Charlie pointed. The driveway. She could hear the rattle of the garage door.

  Chris was on the move.

  And Charlie dangled his keys, waiting for an answer.

  “I told you, I don’t want your help.”

  “You really shouldn’t lie. We both know you can’t follow him without me.”

  The point stung. Probably a bad idea using him as a chauffeur, but more fun than doing kitchen cleanup. Plus, she really needed to know what Chris was up to.

  She nodded. “Follow him.”

  Let’s see exactly what you’re doing, dear husband. Hopefully nothing that would make her mad enough to become a widow.

  6

  Bambi stepped out of the cab without bothering to leave a tip. She never had to pay for transport. But she did have to reapply her lipstick.

  A succubus never left home without some—or mints for when she went heavy on the garlic. Something her ex-boyfriend Chris—not her brother Chris, but wizard Chris—had never approved of. What did he expect? He was dating a succubus. A pity his poor, fragile human body couldn’t handle it.

  The breakup had been sad. The rebound sex? Invigorating. And now, she was free to do anyone she pleased. Even cab drivers.

  The happy man sped off, and she surveyed her surroundings.

  From the outside, the warehouse seemed rather benign. There wasn’t any light coming through the blacked-out windows high above. No noise either. The parking lot behind the chain-link fence was mostly empty. No surprise.

  People who came to this place rarely left sober. Nor did they leave anything as identifying as a vehicle. Never knew when the joint might get raided. Every so often, the cops happened to get a new gung-ho captain who wouldn’t just accept a bribe and turn a blind eye.

  Those kinds of altruistic people never lasted too long. Everyone had a weakness.

  For many people, it was sex, and Bambi knew all about that. Her hips rolled as she walked, a sensual glide that drew the gaze and kept it.

  Only two guys were there to appreciate her moves. The pair—having a cigarette to the side of the entrance—appeared casual. And human. An appearance meant to deceive, but she saw them for what they were. Trolls under glamour, made to look like big men, yet a haze of green clung to them—the magic she could see. If she squinted, she saw past it to the ugliness underneath. Rough, callused skin. Big, sloping foreheads. Greasy hanks of hair. And loincloths that weren’t long yet hid them amply. Trolls possessed rather small hands and feet for their size.

  But they were male, which meant when Bambi swished her hips, they paid attention.

  Troll, human, pygmy dwarf from the South American jungles… Didn�
��t matter. Her succubus nature drew them all. These big doormen were no different.

  “I want into the party.” She purred the words as she drew near.

  “No party here, toots.” A rumbly voice. How delightful.

  Her pussy quivered at the thought of it rumbling against her. A troll was ugly, but if she turned off the magic of othersight for a few minutes, she could forget it long enough for a snack.

  I’m hungry. Her carnal side complained, and this despite its recent meal. She’d have to bite the bullet soon. Imbibe an entire soul in one meal, aspirate the moment of their death in order to sate her succubus side.

  A couple of deaths a year to retain control of her herself, with sips in between to tide her over for a while. A smart succubus didn’t ignore the warning signs of hunger. Bambi had never forgotten those early years when she let herself go.

  I used to have such an insatiable hunger. An addict for sex and souls. She’d managed to fix one of those predilections.

  It took meeting the little lamb to turn her life around. Now, she ran several sex addiction therapy groups. They were great for keeping her fed. The strip joint where she worked as a feature dancer paid her bills, though.

  “You aren’t going to seriously leave me out in the cold.” Her lower lip jutted in a pout as she ran her fingernail down the troll’s humanish chest.

  She saw the troll shiver even if the glamoured version didn’t.

  “It’s summertime. Not cold,” declared his partner, not wearing the same lusty gaze. Rather he seemed angry with her because of… Bambi cast a sly glance back at Troll Number One. Heretofore known as Oblivious. And the other, WantsIt.

  Easy enough to solve. She lured Oblivious in with sultry lips and a wiggle of her hips. Then managed to draw Wantsit into the equation. Bambi slipped out from between them, leaving them writhing in the alley, doing her part to bring the trolls together, leaving the way into the warehouse clear.

  Hiking up her skirt and fluffing her boobs, she entered the building.

  A noisy warehouse, as it turned out. The soundproofing was owed to magic, a heavy shell of it encasing the building. Within, enough cryptids to make a scientist ejaculate without touching himself.

  Just about every fable was probably represented in the gathered crowd. From goblin, elf, and fairy to things more exotic and alien. They were seated on hovering discs, raised at different levels all around the large space, the aerial view quite spectacular. On the ground, where the late arrivals clustered, a little harder to see, was the topic of attraction.

  Wanting a spot at the front, Bambi began to wiggle her way through the crowd. “Ooh, how did my hand get there?” A firm cup. “Nice package.” A slow grind. “I might want to grab your number later.”

  She tingled all over as she left a trail of horny bodies behind. Reaching the front, she plopped herself onto an available male lap, ignored the screech of his wife, and perused the ring—bound in a shield of magic—before her.

  The concrete floor had been carved to form channels, and in those etched lines, they’d poured a silver-titanium mix, an excellent alloy for conducting magic. Used in this manner, it amplified a spell. In this case, a shield.

  The magical dome kept the combatants and guts in the middle of the building for the crowd’s viewing pleasure.

  Leaning forward, the man behind her groaned as his hips ground against her. Someone hit her and demanded she get off.

  I’m trying. She had her thighs clamped tight and her vibrating pocket bullet going full tilt inside.

  Her orgasm would have to wait, though. Her eyes widened as she grasped what happened inside the ring.

  Not what she’d expected.

  Definitely not what he would want to hear.

  And yet, there was her brother, Christopher, floating midair, lobbing magical spears of blue fire while dead bodies grappled with the tail of the giant worm attacking.

  And when her brother won? He pounded his chest and screamed, “The Antichrist wins again!”

  Again? Then again, she should have known this wasn’t the first time he’d participated in some kind of paranormal fight club. The idiot.

  She wondered how long he’d known his powers were back. She also wondered why his wife looked so pissed. Isobel stood outside the magical cage, arms crossed and lips pressed into an angry line. What is she doing with Charlie?

  Handsy cousin, Charlie, who hugged a touch too long, stared just a bit more than he should. But he never crossed that line. Just skirted close.

  Charlie stood right behind Isobel. Much too close. If Chris noticed…

  Bambi lifted herself abruptly, ignoring the cry of disappointment. Didn’t look back at the screamed, “bastard,” followed by gunfire.

  She kept an eye partially on Chris, who was surrounded by gushing sycophants wearing short skirts and too much makeup.

  Wannabe whores. It took work, lots of it—on her back, knees, stomach, suspended, and more—to constantly win the slut-of-the-year award. It wasn’t the number of times that counted. It was the quality, too.

  Bambi held the record in both.

  She slid herself in front of Isobel, blocking her gaze before something unfortunate happened.

  “If it isn’t my favorite sister-in-law.”

  “I am your only sister-in-law. What are you doing here, Bambi?”

  “Just here for the show, like everyone else.”

  A reply that caused Isobel’s gaze to narrow. “So you admit you knew about Chris’s extracurricular activities?”

  “Me?” Bambi feigned shock. “I am just as surprised as you are. I came here on the recommendation of a friend. I never expected to see my brother. What is Chris doing here?”

  Isobel’s shoulders rolled. “No idea.”

  “And what are you doing with him?” She didn’t hide her disdain.

  Charlie managed a pleasant reply. “Bambi, lovely to see you, dear cousin.”

  “Is it?” Turning to Isobel, she added, “You shouldn’t be here with Charlie.”

  “My place is with my husband.”

  “Are you sure that is your husband in the ring?” Bambi asked in all seriousness. Because the Chris she knew didn’t have the skill to float midair and throw magic missiles. And the Devil won’t be happy about this development.

  Isobel’s lips flattened. “He’s not possessed. Just stressed.”

  “He’s using zombies to play fight club.”

  “Honing his skills in a safe environment is not a crime.” Isobel’s chin tilted.

  “Making himself appear dangerous and possibly looking to fulfill his destiny of becoming the ruler of Hell might not be the best idea.”

  “Let Lucifer try and kill him. Chris can handle it.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Lucifer. Gaia has been a little crazy lately. The Earth keeps rumbling because of it.” Bambi had heard of pregnancy hormones, but a goddess, especially one as powerful of Gaia, in the grips of it made her want to check out Limbo for a while. Leave on an extended trip.

  “What’s Mother Earth got to do with my husband?”

  “She’s pregnant.”

  “And?”

  “With a boy.”

  “Chris isn’t going to kill a baby,” Isobel scoffed.

  “Then who is he planning to kill?” Bambi asked. “Because that is combat magic.” She jabbed a finger over her shoulder.

  “Just because he’s practicing doesn’t mean he’s planning to use it for nefarious purposes.”

  “So what if he is?” Charlie interjected. “Really, dear cousin, you can’t expect someone like Chris to just sit around at home, twiddling his thumbs. The man has a destiny, and that calling doesn’t involve doing nothing.”

  “This is far from nothing. He needs a different hobby,” Bambi insisted. “We can’t keep hiding him forever.”

  “We?” Isobel homed in on the word. “Who’s been hiding him?”

  Did Isobel really not know? Had Lucifer not told them about the spell he cast?

&
nbsp; Of course, he didn’t. Father thrives on secrets. “Ever since the wedding, Lucifer has been hiding my brother from Chris’s mother. A good thing, too, since the last seal on her prison broke.” A chill wind blew through the building, and everyone shivered.

  “She escaped?” Charlie asked.

  “Duh,” Bambi said with a roll of her eyes. “The door opened. Of course, she fled her prison. And the moment she did, Father doubled down on his spell so she couldn’t find Chris—or Isobel for that matter.”

  “Lucifer knows where she is?” Charlie asked.

  A roll of Bambi’s shoulders undulated her entire body. “If he does, then he hasn’t told me.”

  “Then how does he know for sure she escaped?”

  “Dunno. I didn’t feel it, but Lucifer said the moment she exited her prison it was as if reality wobbled for a minute. Good thing he already had a shield over Chris, or she would have probably made a beeline for him.”

  Isobel frowned. “Wait a second, when you say shield…” She looked away from Bambi to the ring. “Your dad is the reason Chris’s magic doesn’t work. He did it on purpose to suppress it.”

  “He did it to protect him,” Bambi said, only partially lying.

  “Protect, my ass,” Isobel exclaimed. “By nullifying Chris’s abilities, Lucifer rendered a threat to his crown impotent. That’s low, even for the Devil.”

  “Suppressing his magic was a better option than killing him.” Which was what some of Lucifer’s advisers had encouraged him to do.

  “Does it never occur to anyone to treat Chris like an adult? To let him make his own choices?” Isobel took her husband’s side.

  “His decisions could end the world.” Which, personally, Bambi didn’t care about. There were places other than these that a succubus could live and feed.

  “Is that why you’re here? To convince him to stop using his magic?” Isobel kept hammering.

  “I’m here because Lucifer ordered it.” And one didn’t say no to the Devil.

  “Go back to your father and tell him to leave Chris alone. He needs to stop meddling. Take off the shield. Chris is going crazy thinking he can’t do magic.”