by Rory Miles
Just as I’m preparing to go over there and put him in his place, Shane drops Anna Beth and she lands at an awkward angle, half-reclined in the damned box. The woman, now dead, has the widest smile on her face and I doubt she realized what was happening. Shane would have taken care to remove any pain. The incubus stands, staring at his human like he’s trying to will the life back into her.
“Well, that certainly was anticlimactic.”
Berith snickers at the high lord’s words.
Every demon in the room knows the punishment is not complete. Shane’s eyes flit to me, and I see an echo of who he used to be. A flame burning deep inside him, wanting nothing more than to fight and maim for what he’d been forced to do. Though he just consumed her essence, he’s still dangerously low on fuel thanks to his abstinence. There is no way he’d win. I give a slight shake of my head and his eyes harden, jaw clenching as he comes to understand I won’t help him.
Lucifer has been watching the exchange with mild curiosity. When he sees me shake my head, a sneer cuts across his face. “Did you have something to say, Shane?”
Berith’s breathing is ragged now and a small whirlwind of rage blows past me and hits Shane square in the chest. I toss an annoyed look his way. Shane did not need any of the demon’s persuasion to violence. He’s already there.
Shane’s face is bright red and his teeth clack together once before he says, “Challenge.”
My eyes flutter closed. Devil below, this is a shitshow. When I open them again, the crowd is roaring in approval. I cast my gaze around the room, stalling on a familiar face in the third row.
Anakin?
I search the crowd around him and spot Micah. My attention bounces between them and everything fades away as my ears begin to ring. I haven’t seen either of them in ten years. My heart was torn to pieces when they left, and I’m not sure I’ve fully recovered from them abandoning me. I faced ten years of hollow, emotionless sex. No relationships, except the one I had with Jasper. Still, his friendship is nothing like what I had with Anakin and Micah. Nothing at all like what I want or need.
They’re here.
“Shera.”
I snap out of my panic and turn to Lucifer, who’s gesturing me toward my seat. I don’t know what I missed in those moments, but I strut to my seat, seething and disturbed by this evening’s events.
“You seek a challenge.” Lucifer laughs. “I do enjoy when my demons get ambitious.”
Shane stands next to the box and Anna Beth, growling with anger. His eyes are entirely red and the pulse of his allure hits those of us on stage full force. Naomi, Dante, and I are the only ones who are not fighting the sensation.
Cocking his head like a vulture, Lucifer says, “Please, allow me to show you what happens when you challenge the High Lord of Hell.”
Chapter Six
An animal-like scream escapes Shane’s lips as he charges across the stage, barreling toward Lucifer who’s watching with an unimpressed quirk of his brow. Just before Shane knocks him over, Lucifer lashes out and wraps his claw-tipped fingers around Shane’s throat. The incubus’s body jerks forward from the impact but Lucifer’s hold does not waver.
“Silly incubus.”
Lucifer’s eyes bleed to black, then he punches through Shane’s chest and rips his demon heart out. Bones crack with the impact and his hand holds the black muscle, which still pulses with life.
My sight zeroes in on what he’s holding and I let out a startled cry before quickly covering my mouth with my hand. Dante reaches out to hold the other and does the same with Naomi’s free hand.
As if his actions have no consequence, the high lord crushes Shane’s heart in his palm. The incubus’s eyes are still blinking, the reflexes slow to die. Like a horrific accident, I can’t look away from what’s happening. A perverse part of me wants to know if there is even the slightest of possibilities that Shane will survive.
Berith lets out a whoop of joy but the stadium is otherwise quiet now, as though every demon in the room is processing the repercussions of this act. This is not at all what I expected.
Some horrid torture, a slow painful death that allowed for regeneration and his body being shoved in a box. I’m prepared for that. But this, the final death? This is not normal.
This changes everything.
Lucifer’s breathing is not ragged nor is it heavy. He simply blinks out at the crowd, smiling like a fool as he holds Shane up by his neck like a trophy. A few of the smarter demons snap out of their surprise and begin to clap and cheer. Once they start, the rest begin. The royals, Naomi, Dante and I don’t cheer.
Why would we? To kill a high demon, especially an incubus, without much provocation or the Creator’s blessing is unheard of. Sure, Shane failed to bring his quota of essence, but I’ve done that plenty of times as well. True death has never been my punishment. The destruction of a succubus or incubus isn’t something that’s allowed. Or so I thought. I always used the Creator’s promise of protection as a shield, but now I don’t know what to think.
Have we fallen out of favor?
Lucifer tosses Shane across the stage. His body lands with a thump and slides until it’s almost falling off the front end of the raised platform. He turns and walks to his throne, sitting with a satisfied smirk. When he glances over at the three of us, he says, “You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” He gazes out at the crowd, moving his hand to quiet their applause. “Let this be a lesson to all who wish to defy direct orders. There are quotas and I’ve been far too lenient. Do not test me. Meeting adjourned.”
Demons clap again, like he just said something profound. I swallow around the lump in my throat and meet Anakin’s wary gaze. He’s clapping, though not joyfully. There’s worry in the way he looks from me to Lucifer. It could have easily been me. Why does he care? He left me.
“What the fuck was that?” Naomi whispers the question so that only Dante and I hear.
Dante grimaces and shakes his head.
“A warning,” I say. “Something’s changed.”
“Shane isn’t coming back.” Dante runs a hand through his hair.
“I suspect the Creator knows, otherwise the high lord would never. Right?” Naomi looks to me for confirmation. As first born of our kind, they treat me as a ringleader of sorts in high-stress situations. Like I know any better than they do.
With a shrug, I say, “I’m not sure of anything right now. Regardless, none of us are safe from the final death and he will happily exterminate the three of us if given a reason. Make sure you get your quotas, no fucking around.”
Dante nods and stands. “Stay safe, my succubi.” He grabs one of Naomi’s hands and one of mine before dropping a kiss on the backs. “This universe would be intolerable without you.” With those words, he leaves the stage and pushes through the door to the hallway we entered from.
Naomi gives me a smile before following after him. Normally I’d go as well, but I need to find Anakin and Micah before they disappear into the crowd of demons who have begun exiting the auditorium through the doors at each level. I start to head toward the stairs that lead to the first rows of seats but Berith intercepts me. His smile is dripping with venom and promises pain.
“My dear Shera, it’s been too long.”
I growl, “Not long enough.” The last time I saw him he tried to force himself on me, tried to overtake me with his power, but he hadn’t enough juice to win. Fool.
He takes a step closer, our bodies only a foot apart now. “You’re so pretty when you scowl.”
This close, I can see the blossom of gold around his pupil in his otherwise black iris. He’s handsome, as are all the royal damned, but no amount of physical appeal could make up for the way my skin crawls when he’s near. He reaches out to me and before I can swat his hand away, a dark hand curls around his wrist. Berith lets out a grunt when Beelzebub squeezes it.
“Berith, Levia is looking for you,” the giant of a demon says.
With a snort,
Berith says, “Is she now? How convenient for you, Beelzebub.” He tears his eyes from me and glares into his superior’s. “Are you seeking claim?”
My back stiffens and I cross my arms. Seeking claim is to take one demon as a true mate. To become partners in crime and debauchery. Being a succubus, such an arrangement can be complicated. Moreover, a prince trying to claim a succubus is playing a dangerous game. Especially since Naomi and I both rejected Lucifer’s attempts.
“If you are under the assumption that I am, why do you bother with irritating me? You know I would destroy the demon who dares touch what is mine.”
My body responds to the possessiveness in Beelzebub’s voice and I want to smack myself. He’s a scheming prince, I shouldn’t react to him this way.
Berith does not answer the question and Beelzebub narrows his eyes at the avoidance. Berith is fourth in line and no match for Beelzebub, even with his proclivity toward violence. Seeming to realize all of this in a blink of an eye, he rips his wrist away from the prideful demon.
With a disappointed look on his face, Berith glances me over. “Well, mustn’t keep Levia waiting. I’ll see you soon, Shera.”
Once he’s out of earshot, I shove Beelzebub’s chest.
“Seeking claim? What the fuck are you playing at?”
His warm fingers wrap around my wrist, so similar to the hold he had on Berith, but he pulls me close enough to brush the front of my body with his. My breath mingles with his, and we stare at one another for a beat.
His searing gaze drops to my lips. “I don’t like losing.”
What does that mean?
Tracing my lower lip with a finger, he sighs when I inhale deeply, reveling in the transfer of essence. I don’t mind that it’s coated in Taint. Beelzebub’s soul tastes of smoke, cedar and broken promises. His dark power makes me keenly aware of those left in the auditorium, like before I took it everything was muted and now, with that strength rushing through me, everything is too loud, too bright.
Beelzebub is a demon of pride, but that is not all he’s capable of. Every demon within the hierarchy holds varying levels of the Creator’s power. The higher up the demon, the stronger it is and the more havoc they can wreak. Feeling heady with an onslaught of naughty intentions, I close the small gap that remains between us.
Pulling my wrist free of his hold, I wrap my arms around his neck and climb him like a tree. He lets out a low growl of appreciation when my legs circle his waist, hands coming to cup the bottoms of my thighs as he lets me take more essence from him. Kissing is not required, but part of me, a destructive, thrill-seeking part of me, can’t resist taking his lips with mine.
His mouth is hot and demanding and his tongue glides against mine. My nails dig into his back as I take one last drink of his essence, feeling the invisible thread between us pull taut, and lean back. His mouth follows me and he ends up kissing my shoulder, but he doesn’t mind. When he doesn’t seem inclined to stop, I unwrap my legs and slide down his body as he groans in the most delightful way.
Probably the only upside of being with a demon is not having to use my allure to soothe the ache that comes with draining a lifeforce. Demons are more resistant to pain, that or we enjoy it more than any other being. His eyes are closed and his breathing is heavy as I trail my fingers up his bare stomach.
“Bub, I didn’t realize you liked me so much.”
With a grunt, he breaks free of my allure which has clothed him in a nice blanket of red. I rein in my power, putting most of my glamour back in place and step away.
“That’s a silly assumption,” he responds.
What? Him liking me or that I didn’t realize? I want to ask, but think better of it. There’s no good that would come from Beelzebub and me getting together. Regardless of if he wishes to seek a claim or not. Lucifer would not tolerate any sort of relationship between us. The high lord is a blight, poisoning any joy I might find. I wonder, not for the first time, if Anakin and Micah were driven away by Lucifer.
The thought pulls me from whatever is happening between us. I glance around, seeing that only a few demons remain, none of whom are the two I desperately want to see. I glare at the demon watching me.
Was this distraction purposeful or simply a coincidence? Devil below, I need to get my urges under control. Shane’s death has me rattled. A wave of sadness washes over me and I shove it far, far into the back of my mind. Only a fool would openly mourn in Avernus. Violence, bad deeds, and all things vile are the way of life down here.
I’m as much a part of that lifestyle as any other demon, though I try hard to have some humanity if only for the sake of my sanity. Being bad just for the sake of being evil doesn’t appeal to me.
Those dark eyes of his reflect some of the emotions I feel. Not sorrow for Shane, but frustration and anger for having no power to change the way our world operates. Beelzebub would make a good leader, reining in the demons who are too extra. Too evil, violent, and cruel. We are, by nature, made to be all of these things, but some take it beyond what even a bad demon would deem acceptable.
“I’m late for a party,” he says.
My eyes drift to the gold band around his biceps and I trail a finger over the thin strip of metal. The party he mentions happens after every meeting, not matter how big or small. Lucifer will be there, at the center of the chaos happening on the fifth floor of the tower.
No way in hell will I go.
His lips brush over my cheek. “Goodbye, Shera.”
My hand falls to my side when he steps away and I watch him leave, a weird mixture of relief and longing sweeping over me. The auditorium is near empty now; a few demons linger on the first level but pay me no mind. I turn and walk toward the exit. My heels clack against the platform and my hackles raise when I sense a high-powered demon on the other side of the door.
“Can’t catch a fucking break,” I mutter to myself.
When I spot the ruby red curls, some of the tension leaves my body. Rosie’s lips are painted bright red and clash with her hair; the light blue babydoll dress is flattering but also clashes with her locks and lipstick. She’s lounging against the wall.
“Oh good, I was beginning to worry about you. Beelzebub have a lot to say?” She stands up and walks next to me as I head toward the lift, pretending she hadn’t tried to kidnap me just a few nights ago. If she wants to talk to me, she’ll have to keep up.
Ignoring her question, I press the button for the elevator and count the seconds while we wait. She clears her throat, looking affronted by my lack of manners. She puts on a good show, this royal. Acting like she’s someone worthy of manners, what a joke. Why she mocks the personality of a human duchess is beyond me. Someone give this demon some pearls to clutch.
“Right, well. I have a proposition for you,” she says as the lift arrives and the doors open.
“If it’s the same as the last one, the answer is still no.” I step into the elevator and face forward, not looking at her as I speak and press the button for the lobby.
The sooner I can get out of this lift, the sooner I can leave this literal Hell hole behind. I don’t like Earth more than Avernus, but I despise the political ploys and games of my world.
“Pity about Shane.” Her eyes are trained on my face, I can feel them gauging my reaction and searching for some weakness to exploit.
I blow out a breath. “Yes, I would have enjoyed it more had he been beaten to a pulp first.”
She narrows her gaze and makes a frustrated noise. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of being special, Shera. You’ve been sheltered, but now that Lucifer is gunning for your kind, you should be worried.”
“Sheltered? Is that what the box has been doing for me? Sheltering me?” I give in to a bit of my anger and turn toward her, stepping close and dwarfing her much shorter frame.
She doesn’t wither under my glare.
“The box is child’s play.”
I raise one brow. “Remind me, how many times have you died and been stuck in a
box to slowly regenerate and gain strength?”
Her lips purse.
“Hmm.” When the doors to the elevator open to the lobby, I lean into her space and drop my glamour. She gasps as my allure hits her. Being much lower than me on the totem pole, she doesn’t stand a chance. What I hit her with in the alley was just a taste of the power I possess. Normally I don’t like to flaunt my abilities, but seeing as she’s practically begging for punishment, I thoroughly roll her mind, swatting at her hands as she reaches for me.
The doors click closed, but the elevator doesn’t move. Rosie stumbles back into the wall and slides down it as I all but drain her essence. She has a weird smile on her face and my lip curls up. Stupid demon strength. I want her to feel the pain of being drained, but the only way she’ll feel that is if I kill her.
She’d revive after some time. The idea floats around my mind before I pull back and leave her with the smallest sliver of her lifeforce. She’s lost to whatever fantasy fills her mind and doesn’t hear me when I mutter, “You know nothing of pain, Rosie.”
I press the button to open the doors and step out, leaving her and Lucifer’s tower behind. Fuck her and her propositions. I refuse to be anyone’s broodmare. The only regret I have as I leave the tower is that I did not kill her. Lucifer wouldn’t have cared, so long as I didn’t deliver a final death sentence.
Woulda, coulda, shoulda.
Before leaving Avernus, I stop at a fusion station to transfer the surplus of essence I’ve gathered. I usually take the bare minimum to make a point. I won’t be a mindless drone, absorbing massive amounts of energy so Lucifer can do whatever it is he does with the power. Between Beelzebub and Rosie, I’m more than full. There are a few demons in front of me, so I have to wait a few minutes. Every second that passes feels like an eternity. I can’t wait to leave. With each transfer of energy, the large disc-shaped stone glows cobalt. When it’s my turn to step up to the pedestal, I press my palm against the smooth stone. A familiar warmth burns the underside of my hand and I feel the extra boost of energy drain from my body.