by Dante King
One of the walls buckled inward, and I snapped to my senses. I must have used the girls too roughly—something in the foundations of Lilith’s hideout had snapped. “Both of you up,” I commanded, backing toward the door on my ass. “It’s about to come down!”
None of us made it. The walls collapsed inward, bricks and chunks of stone raining down on our trio. As the building came down, Lilith threw up her hands and summoned a shimmering wall of light, shielding us from the rain of stones.
As it faded, the three of us now lay outside, in the wreck of a building on the edge of the liminal zone. Godfrey waited a few yards away, his engine idling. The hovercraft wasn’t capable of looking sheepish, but if it was, it would have.
“That,” Lilith said, rising slowly to her feet, “was possibly the most satisfying experience of my life.” She reached behind herself, a little surprised to feel so much come all over her ass. “Gods, you painted me…”
“That’s my Luke,” Mareth giggled.
The succubus looked much less worse for wear than Lilith did. Either because of her age, or her relative depravity, Mareth had already healed from her wounds and looked happy as a clam to have been fucked so hard and nasty.
Mareth continued. “He likes to mark his territory, my guy. It’s so hot and primal, isn’t it, Luke?”
“It is,” I agreed. My eyes stayed on Lilith. “You’re mine now, Headmistress. I’m not sure yet if I’m going to have you resign your post at the Infernal Academy, or keep you there to rule things in my stead.”
Lilith rolled her eyes. “Please. Put someone else in charge of the place—like that Xora, or someone with a little ambition. I only stayed at that crummy job in order to pursue a future—one that turned out was never going to come.” For a moment, a cloud passed over face, only to be quickly banished. “It’s alright, though. I’m much happier now.”
“Yeah, you would be,” I grunted, resummoning my robes. “I can’t think of a single girl who’d give anything less than five stars to that performance.”
“Absolutely,” Mareth agreed.
Lilith nodded, then went to pick through the rubble of her building. At first, I had no idea what she was doing—then she came back with a package under her arm, wrapped in a cloth that was no longer so brilliantly white.
The sweetner! I thought, my interest piqued.
Whatever this thing was, Lilith had planned to offer it to me in order to secure my help against Queen Titania.
A faint smile spread across Lilith’s face as she handed me the package.
“My husband didn’t give me much in the divorce settlement,” she said, cocking her head to the side, “but he did hand me this for safekeeping. He told me that when the moment came, I’d know what to do with it. At the time, I thought he was insane—but now I know that, like always, he was just planning very, very far ahead.” She handed it to me. “Now it belongs to you, Luke.”
With shaking hands, I stripped the cloth from the package.
What lay beneath was a rod of steel six feet long, which split near the tip into three wicked, sharp prongs. No metal on Earth could have created a weapon like this—and no blacksmith would have ever dared to forge it. As I touched one of the razor-sharp tips, a flame danced across my fingers. I didn’t even need to expend energy to make it.
“It’s a pitchfork,” I said, pulling the rest of the cloth off the weapon.
“Correction,” Lilith said with a giggle. “It’s the pitchfork. Satan’s pitchfork. The most powerful weapon in the Infernal Realm.”
I lifted the pitchfork high, unable to believe my eyes. Lucifer entrusted me with this?
“Oh my Gods,” Mareth whispered, watching me with utter awe. “You look just like him!”
“He does,” Lilith said, pulling the succubus in for a hug. “He really, really does.”
I didn’t have to ask who he was. After all, I was holding his weapon.
I was the Beast now. It was time to make the Realms bleed.
Chapter 19
The atmosphere was quiet as I drove back to the Seelie camp, safe within Godfrey.
Almost like the calm before the storm.
In the passenger seat, a very exhausted Mareth slumped against the leather, out like a light.
Despite my requests, Lilith had begged not to accompany us back to the Seelie Fae camp. She claimed she had very important things to finish back in the Infernal Academy—and besides, Siobhan wouldn’t be very happy to see her without an army at her back. So we’d allowed her to leave.
I watched trees roll by. Godfrey handled the roads himself, hovering a few feet over the ground as we made our way unerringly toward the Island of Avalon.
It felt nice to just relax and enjoy the ride, though I’d definitely have to do some pleasure cruising one of these days once the war over Heaven and Hell was over and done with. I missed road head, damn it. Sure, I could get Mareth to suck me off any time while I sat in the driver’s seat. But when I wasn’t handling the wheel myself, it just didn’t feel the same.
As if summoned by my thought, Mareth stirred in her seat. The succubus yawned and stretched, then leaned over with a big grin on her face.
“Hey, Master,” she murmured, idly playing between her thighs with her slender fingers. “I’m still so full of your cum. Fuck, you pounded Lilith and me into the ground back there…”
It still brought a grin to my face. The threesome I’d had with Lilith and Mareth was one of the most fulfilling things I’d ever done. I doubted I’d ever forget it. From the look on her face, Mareth felt the exact same way.
“It was…special,” I said, unable to get the words out the way I wanted. Instead, I glanced at the rear view mirror, gesturing at the pitchfork in the backseat. “You think this thing’s going to help us turn the tide against Titania?”
“Uh—definitely!”
It was amusing how quickly Mareth could code switch. One minute she could be a submissive little schoolgirl, on her knees begging for ‘Daddy’ to fill her with his cock. Then she could be a little gossip, who just can’t wait to share everything she knows about her Master’s new toy.
“That’s Lucifer’s pitchfork, Luke,” Mareth said. “Every single student in the Infernal Academy has wondered where that weapon got to. Lucifer himself hasn’t carried it into battle in centuries. People asked if he’d maybe lost it.”
“Nah,” I said, watching a river roll beneath us. If you weren’t looking, you’d never even notice the landscape—Godfrey floated above everything, turning even the roughest of terrain into smooth sailing. “He just gave it to his ex-wife apparently. Speaking of which… how do you feel about all that?”
“All that?” Mareth repeated flatly. Her brows furrowed together. “What do you mean, Luke?”
“Her joining us,” I said, watching the landscape through the front windshield.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to be locking eyes with the succubus.
“I mean, there’s not a lot we can do about it now,” I continued. “The deed is already done. It’s just, I know she’s a lot of fun to fuck, and she’s powerful as hell—but you and her have a lot of bad blood. The kind that’s maybe not completely washed away by one threesome?”
Mareth gave me a slow, easy smile and leaned back in her chair. “It’s true, Lilith and I are probably never going to be best friends,” she admitted breezily. “Though we’re a hell of a lot closer to it now then we were before we both shared your come.”
“You can get along with her?” I asked, eyeing her sideways.
“Of course,” Mareth said, dismissing my worries with a gesture. “You have a harem, Luke. You already have, like, ten girls at your beck and call, ready to fuck you whenever you want them to. Honestly, it would be crazy to assume that all of them would get along. I don’t need to love Lilith in order to love you—I just need to know that she makes you happy.” She toyed with a lock of her long hair, batting her eyelashes. “She does make you happy, right, Master?”
I thought
of my cock thrusting deep into her ass while my tentacles filled her from the other end. “Oh, most definitely,” I grunted. “I just don’t want to cause trouble. I’m looking to be the new Lord of Hell, but I don’t want to be a dick to the girls I like. You’ve given me a lot to think about, though.”
“Oh yeah?” Something mischievous sparkled in Mareth’s eyes. “So you think I love all your harem girls equally, is that it?”
I laughed. “Since you just said that, I’m guessing the answer is no,” I said, my interest piqued.
“Of course not,” Mareth said with a shrug. “The only thing that unites us is that we all like you, Luke. I definitely like some of your girls better than others. It would be silly not to admit that.”
Alright, this was getting interesting.
“Hmm, well—I can definitely guess who your favorite is,” I said, my grin getting wider on my face. “And Lilith’s got to be your least favorite—”
“Don’t count Lilith,” Mareth said, getting into the game now. “She’s brand new, after all. I haven’t really had time to see how much I’ll like her as a harem girl. I mean, I know how I feel about her as a Headmistress, but that’s not really her job any more, is it?”
The thought gave me pause. Once Lilith was done with her errands at the Infernal Academy, I’d commanded her to join us at the Seelie Fae camp. Along with every demonic soldier, student and ne’er do well she could muster to help us fight the Unseelie Fae and Queen Titania.
It was to be her last official act as Headmistress of the Infernal Academy. Once she was done, she’d submit her own resignation papers and approve them. Whoever ran that institution of learning after her would be new—just as Lilith herself had said, I wouldn’t want her in the job. She’d be too busy as one of the heavy hitters in my harem. Her magic levels were off the charts…
“Alright,” I said, clearing my mind of all that. “Favorite’s got to be Christina. You and her are like two peas in a pod.”
“Ding ding ding,” Mareth said, tapping the bridge of her nose like I’d just won a prize. “She’s definitely my favorite. I love going shopping with her, and I’d love for the three of us to tear up a club together sometime. She’s my bestie, and having threesomes with her, you and me is so much fun…”
“It wasn’t Maddie?” I asked, feigning disappointment.
Mareth slugged me in the shoulder. “Maddie is different,” the succubus said. “You know that better than anyone.”
“So she’s not your least favorite, then,” I surmised. “Alright, hmm… let me think. Raquelle?”
“Huh?” Mareth made a face. “Why would I hate Raquelle? She’s a stone cold bitch, but I’m kinda into that.”
“Wait—it’s not Poppy, is it? How can you hate someone so cute and tiny?”
Mareth laughed at that. “Look, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about our least favorite girls. I mean, I’d never want to hear you compare and contrast your harem ladies. I know each of us brings something special to the table, something none of the others can match.”
“Ah, okay,” I said, looking out the window. I thought I’d seen something moving in the woods—a deer or a squirrel, maybe. “But seriously, who is it?”
“You’re incorrigible!” Mareth squealed, loving the attention. “I swear, you—”
Something slammed into the side of Godfrey. Something heavy!
“Please buckle up!” the hovercraft informed us, his manic cheer cutting through the sudden panic in the cabin. “I’m afraid we’re under attack, Master!”
I snapped my belt into place just as Mareth did the same with hers. “Who the fuck would dare?” I demanded to know. If this was an assassination attempt from Queen Titania, she’d chosen the correct moment—only she didn’t realize how much power I had. With Godfrey in hovercraft form, and the pitchfork in my back seat, I was nigh on unstoppable.
“It’s got to be the Fae,” Mareth muttered, echoing my own sentiment. “Should we engage, Master? Or make a run for Siobhan’s camp?”
I was about to tell Godfrey to get all the guns ready—we were long overdue for a test of his battle capabilities. Then the sides of the hovercraft turned transparent, giving us a view of the landscape around us—and my plans changed in an instant.
It wasn’t a Fae bolt or an assassin who’d struck Godfrey. It was Holofernes.
The Angel of Vengeance crashed through the brush, black sword held high in his marbled hands. Thick veins of corruption ran through the statuesque angel’s body, his frozen face curled in a cold sneer. His eyes glowed the same sinister red as Queen Titania’s, almost like something from another world.
“Fuck,” Mareth snapped, turning her attention to the road ahead. “We’ve got to get out of here—”
“No we don’t,” I said, pieces snapping together in my head. I checked out the weapons, the pitchfork in the back seat, and made a decision. “We’re staying right here. Godfrey, switch into Combat Mode.”
“Yes, Master!” the hovercraft trilled. All across Godfrey’s sleek bulk, guns emerged from hidden compartments. Some used ordinary bullets, some pulses of energy. There was even a flamethrower, similar to the one stored on the Humvee.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mareth said, rising like a gargoyle in her seat. “Luke, that’s the Angel of Vengeance. Holofernes is, like, an inch or two beneath the Almighty himself. And who knows what kind of powers he got from Queen Titania’s corruption!”
“Exactly—who knows!?” I reached into the back seat and retrieved the pitchfork. “We’ve got to test him, Mareth. Whatever happens, there’s no way Holofernes is going to avoid the battlefield where the Day of Judgement happens. We have to know his capacity before then—and defeat him, if we can.” I swallowed hard. “Or turn him back.”
Mareth’s mouth dropped open. “You think you can do that?”
I wasn’t sure. But I’d tried calling out to Holofernes the last time I saw him in the Fae Realm. For a moment—just a moment—it had almost felt like he’d heard me. Like something inside of him had reacted to the sound of my voice, something beneath Queen Titania’s corruption.
I’d failed to save Holofernes the last time I was on the battlefield against the Fae.
I couldn’t stand the thought of doing it again.
I wasn’t his friend, and never would be—in fact, there’d been a time where I’d planned to kill him myself. But that was the thing. He deserved to be killed in single combat against me, dying a warrior’s death.
This shambling monster tearing up the Fae Realm was a worse fate than death. The Angel of Vengeance didn’t deserve that. Ending him would be a mercy.
Godfrey had a hatch along the hovercraft’s ceiling, to allow people to climb up to the railgun. It was by this I planned to exit the vehicle and make my attack.
“Stay here,” I said, commanding Mareth despite her desire to follow me into the fray. “I might need you to handle the controls manually if things go sideways. If I look like I can’t handle it, you come in after me. Got it?”
“Luke, you should have me with you,” Mareth protested. “I—”
“Master,” Godfrey chirped. “I am perfectly capable of navigation!”
“Both of you be quiet! This is about me and him!” I paused at the hatch. “Godfrey, if things look bad for me, unload on Holofernes with every fucking thing you’ve got! You understand me?”
“Yes, Master!” the vehicle said.
Wind whipped over my head as I opened the hatch. Roaring as my wings extended, I soared into the night.
I couldn’t see Holofernes. I’d expected to be able to track him by the glow in his eyes, but he was either able to turn it off or had disappeared into the forest again. Damn it! I couldn’t let him get away—
A black sword whistled past my head, so close I screamed. Holofernes’s face appeared in the darkness, as cold and hard as death itself.
I moved. The Angel of Vengeance followed hot on my heels, his stone wings flexing like no material on Earth.
Those glowing red eyes burned hot now, now that the Angel of Vengeance had no need of stealth. I should have realized that even possessed by Queen Titania’s evil magic, Holofernes could still strategize. He could still use tactics and plan.
He could still kill the hell out of me.
I tossed a fireball over my shoulder and watched it explode in Holofernes’s face. The Angel of Vengeance didn’t even slow down—the flames rolled off his stone back as he swung again and again.
Damn it, he was fast! Even flapping my wings as hard as I could, I just barely managed to stay ahead of him. Whatever else Queen Titania had done to the Angel of Vengeance, he was faster than before. Tougher. This was a dangerous opponent indeed.
Time to use my secret weapon, I thought.
As I flew into the treeline, I suddenly dropped like a stone. Holofernes, despite all his cunning, didn’t see it coming—he sailed over my head, landing a few feet away in the dirt. He advanced as quick as a flash, swinging his sword in a flurry of overhand cuts—but by the time he reached me, I had both hands around the pitchfork.
How can I explain it? Touching that ancient weapon, the classic device associated with Lucifer himself, was like thrusting my hands beneath the surface of the sun. There was so much power there it physically hurt to wield—I cried out as I parried Holofernes’s next blow, as if it had already hit me. Flames exploded across the hilt, dark flames that recalled the strange tongues of flame around Lilith’s anti-halo. Hers had been the ornament of the Queen of Hell—by replicating that impossible fire, this weapon left no doubt that it was wielded by the King.
Even Holofernes seemed taken aback. He slashed with a side cut, moving in a circle around me with blow after blow, but his movements were slower than before. Was I getting through to him?
“Holofernes, it’s me,” I growled, catching his black sword between two of the pitchfork’s long tines. The motion froze Holofernes in place, his mighty muscles straining to release his weapon from mine. “It’s Luke, man!”