by Rory Miles
“Fuck me,” he groans and thrusts up.
“I am,” I say as I move my mouth up his neck.
“You’re beautiful.”
His sweet words throw me for a second and I pause, glancing at him. The fire burning in his gaze is so intense I have to look away. He turns my face back to his, capturing my lips with his before saying, “Dripping wet, panting and sweating all over me and my cock. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Then without further warning, he flips me over and fucks me from behind. His palm stings when he slaps my ass hard, grunting in appreciation when I purr in approval. He smacks my ass again, then runs a finger down my spine. I arch against the tingle his fingers leave behind, losing all sense of where he ends and I begin. As if knowing just what I need, his hand finds my clit and magic is born. I let out a cry, smiling when my name is groaned as he finds his release.
Devil below, I’ve missed this.
After eating the eggs and bacon Micah whipped up while Anakin and I were getting busy, we sit on the couch and watch some ridiculous human show where the world has ended and there are zombies everywhere. I snort when one of the main characters screams and his arm is hacked off to prevent an infection from taking hold.
Jasper returns after the gory scene, taking in the three of us cuddled up, and smirks.
“I see all is well.”
With a roll of my eyes, I get up and meet him in the kitchen to help unpack the few bags of groceries he brought in. There are frozen pizzas, Doritos, Flaming Hot Cheetos (yum), and apples.
“Had to balance it out?” I ask, holding up an apple with a grin.
Jasper shoots me an exasperated look. “Vampires need their vitamins, Shera. You can’t expect me to get it all from this junk food.”
Really, I don’t even know why he bothers eating human food at all, but who am I to judge the vamp’s strange tastes? Plus, if I get Hot Cheetos out of it, I’m really not going to complain.
My phone, which I mostly forgot about, dings with a missed call notification. I pick up the sleek black smart phone and frown. Two missed texts and a call from Rem. I read the messages.
Rem: Shera, are you okay?
Rem: Seriously, please just let me know. Even just an emoji will do.
Shit.
I forgot I hadn’t let him know I was okay after being summoned to Avernus. Checking the date, I see it’s been almost a week since we last saw each other. No wonder he’s blowing my phone up today.
Me: Sorry for making you worry. I’m okay. Meet up soon?
There is a short wait, then the typing dots appear. When they disappear, I scowl at the device. Did he decide not to respond? Suddenly, the dots pop back up and all I get is an okay.
I start to type out a message explaining things, but think better of it when Anakin comes to stand next to me.
“I’ll never get over how much technology has changed in the last ten years.”
“Humans are advancing at a fascinating pace,” I respond as I send Rem a kissy emoji before setting the phone down.
Neither Anakin or Micah would mind my relationship with Rem, but I don’t want to mar our time together with that sort of talk. They knew when we got together that I’d find other partners, even encouraged it, so I knew it would be okay. Still, they just got back. I’m not ready to tell them I’ve found another potential love interest.
Beelzebub’s dark, heated gaze flashes in my mind and I shake my head, pushing whatever mess I have going on with him out of my mind.
Someone knocks on Jasper’s door just as my phone vibrates. Even though I’m not ready to tell the men, I can’t stop sneaking a peek at Rem’s reply. The heart eye emoji makes me smile like an idiot.
“Now?”
I hear Jasper’s question and set the phone down again so I can join him at the front door. The same escorts from our last trip are staring at him in an eerie unblinking way. With a sigh, I turn and shout to Anakin and Micah.
“I hope you boys are ready for a field trip.”
They still haven’t learned of Rosie’s death. Heading into the living room and sitting on the coffee table in front of them, I whisper, “I’ve done something. I can’t tell you what since we have company, but whatever we are about to be subject to in Avernus is probably my fault.”
Micah says, “Why am I not surprised?” He laughs softly, keeping quiet so the demons don’t eavesdrop. “Whatever it is, we can handle it.”
Grimacing, I say, “We’ll see about that.”
Anakin’s eyes narrow slightly. “Did you ki—”
I slam my palm over his mouth and give him a stern look, then jerk my head toward the door. He had barely whispered, but still, we need to be careful with our conversations when minions are near.
“Whatever it is you’re discussing will have to wait, we need to go. Now.”
Sighing at Jasper’s tone, I stand and follow him to the front door. Once everyone has their shoes on, we follow the demon escorts to a portal nearby; this one is in a sketchy alley and spits us out much closer to Lucifer’s tower. We pass a few low born demons and I catch snippets of their conversation.
“Burned to a crisp.”
“I heard it was a final death, the duchess won’t be coming back.”
“Serves the bitch right. She tried to fuck my husband.”
My eyebrows raise at that one. I very much doubt Rosie tried to fuck this lower demon’s husband, but at least now I know why we’ve been summoned. I knew once Lucifer found out about her death he would be pissed. Hopefully the fire destroyed any evidence that would pin the crime on me or Jasper.
My vampire and lovers part from me and the guards, diverting to the common elevator while I’m taken to the one meant for members of the hierarchy. Unlike last time, the demon escorts don’t give me leering looks. They stare ahead, studiously avoiding any of my attempts at conversation.
The lift hits the fifth floor and my stomach flips with the stop. Shane’s final moments play over in my mind and I suddenly regret my rash decision very much. Though I can’t say I’m sorry.
They don’t follow me to the grand doors that lead to the stage, instead they linger back by the elevator. Without hesitating, I head onto the stage, leaving the escorts behind. Mostly everyone is here, though the low born demons are still flooding into the stadium. My eyes snag on Beelzebub’s, and I catch a hint of anger in them.
Probably shouldn’t have used his credit card to buy a flight after taking a near-fatal dose of essence.
The royals are much more subdued, and there is no posturing as we wait for Lucifer to take the stage. Whispers fill the first few rows of people and I hear Rosie’s name a few times. Naomi is sitting with her legs and arms crossed, looking slightly put out.
“Naomi,” I greet her and take my seat, leaving the one between us for Dante. I note that the chair on my right is missing; seeing as Shane won’t be joining us, there is no need for a fourth.
The seats are nearly full now, but Dante is still missing. I glance back and see him rushing across the stage, plopping down with a huffed breath moments before the high lord prances out on stage. Everyone quiets and there is no preamble this time.
“A duchess of Avernus is dead and I’d like to know who did it.”
Some shift in their seats when his rage-filled gaze sweeps over them. When he turns to face the royals on stage, his eyes find mine. There is a spark of annoyance when he takes me in, but he turns his attention to Berith. I expected some comment about how I was rescued from his little box, but he doesn’t spare words for me.
The prince rises and joins Lucifer at the front of the stage.
“Berith will be handling the investigation. Luckily for us, we have a small lead.”
With a flick of his hand, a man stumbles onto the stage, pulling at the invisible rope around his neck. Lucifer must be livid if he didn’t think to use a box for this. In fact, there is no show boating. Just raw emotion rolling off of him. I had no idea the high lord had such love for a duchess
of the second hierarchy.
When the human lands on his knees, I have to grip the bottom of my seat to keep from running to him.
Lenard.
“It seems this filthy being is responsible in some way for Rosie’s death, though he denies being the one to kill her.”
Berith strolls in front of Lenard, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. “There are ways to find the truth.”
It’s a chore to pull my face into a mask of indifference. I manage to paste a small sneer on my lips by the time Lucifer glances at me. When he doesn’t see the reaction he hopes to find, he frowns.
Turning back to Berith, he says, “This human leads a group called the Cohort and they’re responsible for dismantling a few of our human organizations. This does not please me.”
With a dip of his head, Berith gazes at Lenard. “Allow me to remedy that.”
Blood fills my mouth when I bite the inside of my cheek, watching as Berith breaks a few of Lenard’s fingers. To his credit, only a few grunts escape his mouth. Berith doesn’t like that, and pulls Lenard’s arm behind his back until I hear a snap. Then, a scream rends the air.
“Which demons helped you?” Lucifer asks, holding Lenard’s face in his claw-tipped hand. Red blood runs down the human’s cheek where the claws have punctured his skin.
Lenard defiantly glares at the high lord, not even wilting under the ever-growing rage contorting Lucifer’s features. His human-like appearance falls away as the glamour drops, and his skin turns a burnt red color, the horns on his forehead elongating into two viciously sharp points.
Only then does Lenard cower a bit.
“I will make you talk.”
When Lucifer steps back, Berith has a metal whip in his hand. The links hit Lenard’s stomach and he bows over, coughing and moaning in pain. I can’t move my eyes from the scene for fear of Lucifer seeing it as confirmation that I know Lenard. I watch with a fake half-smile, feeling Lucifer’s gaze burning into me.
Is he watching me because he suspects or because he still wishes to claim me?
“Who helped you?” Berith asks, voice breathy from the exertion.
“No one.”
Berith and Lucifer exchange a look and Lenard glances my way for just a second. When he sees me, his body sags. In relief or resignation, I can’t be sure. Then, as if I imagined the eye contact, his eyes are glued to the threatening demon in front of him.
Lucifer scoffs. “Worthless human, kill him.”
Before I can even yell, Berith snaps Lenard’s neck with such force I worry he’ll rip his head from his body.
Someone a few levels up yells no, and I recognize the voice. Jasper.
All three levels of the hierarchy turn their gaze to the stands, eyes searching for whoever uttered the damning words. There is a commotion and I see a figure dash from the stands. My heart skips as Beelzebub stands, growling.
“I’ll find the traitor.”
No. I want to scream the word but Dante grabs my hand to keep me from rising.
Leaning over to whisper in my ear, he says, “Don’t be foolish.”
I pull my gaze from where the figure fled and glare at Dante. He shakes his head, eyes pleading with me to see reason. Leathery black wings snap from Beelzebub’s back seconds before he swoops after Jasper. Berith and Lucifer share a look.
From so far away, I doubt anyone else realized who said the word, aside from Anakin and Micah. I hope Jasper’s speed gives him enough of a head start to find somewhere to hide.
I search for Anakin and Micah, finding them in the second row on the right side of the stage. Their eyes are clouded with worry as they watch me struggle to remain composed; by now they’ve figured out exactly what I was alluding to earlier. The royals on stage are too busy to notice my internal screaming, thank the devil.
Dante tugs on my hand. When I glance back at him, his eyes are filled with understanding. He doesn’t say anything, which I’m thankful for, but he keeps his palm in mine.
Lucifer glances around, letting out a dark chuckle. “Well, that was easy.” He waves his hand around the auditorium. “You are dismissed. I’ll deal with the traitor once Beelzebub returns.”
Voices rise as everyone speculates about who the demon is. Dante pulls me to my feet and he and Naomi lead me to the lift before any of the royals have a chance to leave.
When the doors close and we begin to rise, Naomi shoots me an annoyed look. “What have you done?”
I bristle at her accusatory tone, but I narrow my eyes on her. “Nothing that didn’t deserve to be done.”
She makes a frustrated noise, but Dante places his hand on her arm.
“Not here.”
She’s the first to look away, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, but I want answers.”
I don’t respond, because I have yet to decide if she deserves a response at all. Dante gives me a chastising look and I flip him off, leaning back against the elevator wall with a sigh. The doors open to the lobby and Dante leads us at a clipped pace to a portal, which spits us out near downtown Chicago. Naomi and I give him irritated looks because of all the manhandling, but he ignores them and leads us toward what I assume is his apartment building.
“Lucy, you got some splainin’ to do.”
I don’t laugh at his attempted humor. My thoughts are on Jasper and the angry growl Beelzebub let out before he rushed after my best friend. What will he do when he sees Jasper? He’ll know I had something to do with Rosie’s death. Beelzebub will be able to track my essence to Chicago. Hopefully Dante has demon-proof doors.
Chapter Twelve
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Naomi says, throwing a yellow and pink pillow at my head. “Why would you join a group like that?”
I catch the fluffy pillow before it hit me—wondering for a second why Dante has chosen such girly colors—and glare at her. “Why I do anything is no concern of yours.”
She stands, crosses over to me and pokes me in the chest. “Shane is dead. Everything you do impacts the three of us, just like everything I do or Dante does impacts us. It’s us against the rest of the royals.”
Clutching the spot she poked like it actually hurts, I take an exaggerated step back. “Keep your hands off of me.”
Dante sighs and leaves us in his living room, tired of the succubus drama already.
“So, what’s our plan? How are we going to help Jasper?”
I stare into her green eyes and ask with all seriousness, “Why do you care?”
She looks hurt for a moment. “I may be a demon, but I do have a moral compass, even if it’s slightly broken. Jasper doesn’t deserve to die. Rosie was a bitch.”
“She asked you to be a breeder,” I conclude from the tone in her voice.
With a grimace, Naomi flops back onto the couch. “You too, huh? She wouldn’t leave me alone; it was almost like she was stalking me. She’d show up at the most random times and proposition me.”
“Has anyone tried to claim you?”
Naomi frowns. “Aside from the one time with Lucifer, Berith attempted once, but there is no way I’d ever accept a bond with that beast. Why?”
I shrug. “No reason.” My mind whirls. Why didn’t Lucifer try to claim her again like he did with me? Surely she would provide the same breeding needs as I would, and seeing as Rosie propositioned her, I begin to doubt Rosie’s claim that Lucifer had been the one asking her to make me a breeder.
If he wasn’t the one directing her, who else could she have been working with?
“Are you two divas done arguing?” Dante asks from the kitchen. A pan bangs against the stove and I hear the gas tick before a flame catches.
Naomi and I share an eye roll and make our way into the kitchen. Dante is chopping an onion.
“We’ve kissed and made up.”
I reach into my back pocket, frowning when I realize I don’t have my phone. I have no way to get hold of Anakin or Micah. I’m sure they’re worried after the meeting, and they have no way of findi
ng me. Once I get back to Albuquerque, I’ll send them both a message.
Dante gives Naomi a sultry smile. “Why wasn’t I invited?”
“Next time, darling; I’m not quite ready to face the apocalypse just yet.”
She chuckles and pulls out another cutting board, chopping a few cloves of garlic. When she’s done, she passes the cutting board to Dante and he grabs it before handing her the salt. She moves to the pan and sprinkles it over the sizzling onions. All of this is done without words. Watching them as they work with such familiarity, a pang of longing for Anakin and Micah rushes through me.
“Do you two hang out together?” I blurt the question out in a way that almost sounds accusatory. Why would it matter if they hang out? Am I. . . jealous?
They both glance at me at the exact same time, wearing the exact same look. Guilt, and possibly confusion.
Naomi turns and looks at Dante, and his eyes flick to hers. I can’t see the face she’s making but whatever she conveys to him in that look has him setting his knife aside and stepping up to me.
“Naomi and I live together.” When he grabs my arms in a comforting touch, my head rears back as though he’s shocked me. Which I guess he has.
With a shake of my head, I pull out of his grasp. “Naomi lives in Washington.”
She sighs and adds the garlic to the onions. “No, actually, I moved away from the West Coast eight years ago.”
Surely I’d remember her mentioning such a thing. Then again, eight years ago I was deep in my depression.
The elevator dings in the hallway and a shiver of dread races across my skin. Naomi and I lock gazes, and her eyes glow red with her demon power. When she curses, I know who just stepped onto their floor.
Wiping her hands on a towel, she pushes me out of the kitchen. “Go to my bedroom; it’s down the hall on the right. The fire escape is there. Pull the lock pin, it’ll disengage the stairs.” She whispers this all so fiercely my feet automatically follow her instructions.