Greed's Charity (Seven Deadly Sins Book 1)

by R. A. Pollard

  “I will be back as soon as I have ensured the jar is secure.” He placed a soft kiss against her lips before he vanished from the room. The scent of fire lingered in his wake.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Apollo flashed everyone back to New Jersey, the sudden change in location playing with Isabelle’s balance again. How did gods adapt to this flashing around thing? Give her a plane and inflight movie any day. Mammon steadied her as Lucifer came towards them, concern on his handsome face. The other brothers disappeared to their rooms, the weight of the evening’s discoveries weighing heavily on everyone.

  “As safe as we feel you’re with us, we’re going to shore up the defenses. Apollo offered to create a barrier to hide your energy from Michael. At least for a while. I guess I owe that god way more than one favor after all this. You two should get some rest. One of us will keep watch. Until we get a better idea of the Malakhim’s strengths, I don’t want anyone left alone.” The pair of them nodded and Lucifer continued towards his office, the strain evident in his body.

  Isabelle frowned at the grim expression on Mammon’s face. “We will figure this out. Hades won’t let them get the box, and you won’t let them get me. It’s a pretty big wrench in their plan.”

  Mammon growled, sweeping her up into his arms. He would make sure nothing happened to her. No one would be able to steal her away. She trusted him implicitly, down to the depths of her soul. The dark look he swept over her made her body heat in all sorts of places. In two seconds, she was over his shoulder as he stalked with her into his bedroom. Clearly his idea of keeping her safe involved keeping her in bed for the foreseeable future—she wasn’t complaining!

  Gabriel, second in command to Michael, opened his golden eyes. The web he had been weaving to confuse the demons had been snapped like a twig. He was sure the net was sound, misleading and misdirecting them. The Seer, he’d not expected her to be immune to such a trap. She had reappeared, her energy like a golden beacon in the darkness. He felt a hand tightening around his heart right now. He respected Michael, hell they were brothers. He would do anything for his commander, but this whole eradication idea sat unwell with him. Moving from his cross-legged position on the floor of the meeting chamber, his mind replayed the meeting with Apollo.

  The Greek god of light had been all smiles and friendly words, but there had been a clear goal in his mind. Information. Gabriel had kept his replies to a minimum, fearful Michael would be listening in on his conversation. His brother was becoming more dangerous and paranoid with each passing day. This insane drive to cleanse the earth prevented the angel from resting or thinking clearly.

  He was so consumed by what he called their ‘Divine Mission’, all else was forgotten. He even treated his brothers like nothing more than soldiers, although he believed in the idea of cleansing the earth of sin, returning it to the peaceful place it had once been. Gabriel could not help but wonder if Michael's ‘vision’ would stop at just the humans.

  There were so many other species in the world. The angel hated to admit it, but his brother’s single minded viewpoint could potentially turn against them, against his daughter. Gabriel refused to think about Aria right now. As long as she was kept secret, she was safe from Michael and the rest of the Malakhim.

  His thoughts were bought back as a low agonized, painful cry echoed through the chamber. Gabriel felt his very skin tighten at the sound of agony, his stomach churning in revulsion. Uriel had returned to inform the Malakhim leader the Seer was gone. Michael had been punishing him for his failure for the past hour. The angel was the youngest and brightest of them. His spirit would not survive much longer as the focus of Michael’s ire.

  Leaving the main meeting chamber, he made his way down a glowing spiral staircase to a long shimmering corridor. Another agonized cry filled the air and Gabriel hesitated. He didn’t want to see the mess that would be left of his youngest brother once Michael was done. At least this information would serve to distract him, maybe give Uriel time to heal.

  He stopped at the entryway, the scent of blood thick in the air. Pushing the door open, the scene before him had him wondering who the true evil in this world was. He forcefully pushed the thought away. It was treasonous to think like that. Yet the sight before his eyes would not allow him to defend his brother right then.

  Uriel hung by his wrists from chains, his toes barely touching the floor. The angel’s prone form left his shoulders in a painfully strained position. His bare chest heaved with agony, head hanging, but no marks marred his pristine skin. The sound of something metal being dropped into a bowl of water brought his dark eyes to Michael. The angel came from behind Uriel, wiping black blood from his palms with a stained rag. He dropped the saturated cloth onto the floor, his eyes narrowing on his brother.

  “This better be good.” The copper gaze, once so filled with mirth, was cold and hard. For the first time in centuries, Gabriel hesitated to deliver his news, sudden fear for the Seer biting at his conscience.

  “Well?” The impatience in his brother’s voice, echoed by the soft sobbing pain of his youngest brother, spurred him on.

  “The Seer is back. She is with the demons. Michael, she broke the web. I advise against an attack. It would be a foolish move, brother.”

  Michael sniffed, studying his fingernails. Without a word, he stalked over to a pedestal holding a bowl of water. He dipped his hands in it, the water turning back with angel blood. The only sounds were his hands splashing in the bowl and the low, pained moans of Uriel. Slowly, purposefully, Michael turned his attention to his second in command once more. “A foolish move you say? I see. So you are now the commander of this brotherhood, is that it?” Michael cast cold eyes upon his youngest brother, then tilted his head to Gabriel, who managed to resist the urge to take several steps backward. He was second in command, and he needed to inform his general when the choice before them was a poor one.

  “Michael, to act now would be a misstep. We don’t even have the jar yet. Once we do, we can find another Seer to open it. We don’t need her.” He hoped his voice wasn’t shaking as he spoke.

  “I see. Prudent plan, Gabriel.” The calm tone to his brother’s voice was more terrifying than anger. Michael came towards him, stopping at his shoulder, his voice deathly cold.

  “Make decisions regarding our divine mission again and you will join our little brother. We leave at dawn for Tartarus. You will be at my right hand. Do not disappoint me, Gabriel.”

  With that Michael strode from the room. Gabriel watched him go, letting out a frozen breath, then moved quickly to Uriel’s side. Loosening the mechanism holding him up, his body fell like dead weight to the floor. As soon as his back and wings touched the cool floor, he cried out in agony.

  “Shit!” Gabriel quickly knelt, rolling him onto his stomach. Uriel was panting hard but quickly fell back into an unconscious state. The second in command of the Malakhim stood rapidly. Bile rose in his throat. His eyes scanned the floor. Silver and black feathers littered the cold tile. Michael had been plucking the feathers from his brother’s back. The most sensitive and revered place upon an angel's body. Michael had ravaged Uriel’s wings.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Mammon trailed his fingers along the elegant curve of Isabelle’s spine. Using the tip of his tongue he licked up the center of her back. Drawing a soft moan from her sleeping form. He grinned, savoring the soft velvet of her skin against his fingertips. This little female had taken a broken man and pieced together the shattered shards of his soul, exposing all his scarred ugliness to the light. She’d forced him to open his eyes and accept finding light would be an ongoing battle, but one he was more than happy to wage with her.

  Third time, this was the third time he had slept in a bed beside this woman, and no nightmares had plagued his dreams. To think only a week ago he’d lain beside this very bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to allow sleep to claim him. He still felt the trickle of unacknowledged fear, afraid this was all in his head and he would reawaken
in the Pit. It had haunted his days. Until Isabelle, until her scent had seeped into his skin and become a part of his being. Shit, when had he turned into a romantic sap? Fuck, he knew exactly. It was when the little Minx nearly unmanned him outside a damned frat party, that's when.

  Pressing his aching cock against her hip, he brushed her riotous curls to the side, exposing her neck for his ministrations. She stirred in her sleep, her lips parting on a soft whimper that rushed straight to his cock, making it twitch. A low growl rumbled through him while he nibbled on her throat. Even in sleep, she responded to him, her breathing becoming labored as her skin flushed that perfect shade of pink.

  Rolling her over slowly, ensuring she remained asleep, he settled her on her side, her back to his front, mimicking the first time they woke up together. This time he wasn’t going to be interrupted by one of his brothers. This time he had no reason to stop, because she already belonged to him.

  Rocking his hips, his cock sliding between the cheeks of her ass, he groaned against her neck. She was hot and wet already, her body eager, even in sleep. Cupping her breast in his hands, he rolled the nipple into a peak, her body arching into his touch.

  Mammon knew the precise moment she woke. Her body melted fully against him, her head turning to look at him. Receding sleep gave her this insanely sexy look, her hair mussed up from the pillow, her eyes still hazy from slumber. Mammon felt a tightness in his heart. She looked at him with such trust and—dare he even hope—love?

  There were no sweet words; there didn’t need to be. The desire was clear in her eyes. He knew what she wanted. He could smell the sweet scent of her body calling to him the hooded look in her eyes enticing him to kiss her. It was a physical need gripping him. It was essential he taste those lips, hear her throaty moans as he took her to new heights of pleasure.

  Lowering his head, he covered her parted lips with his own. The kiss was languid and slow, a true exploration of her mouth. Their tongues swept in and out, rubbing against one another. That slow kiss ignited a growing inferno and Isabelle rubbed herself against him, the delicious friction drawing a growl from his throat.

  The kiss became deeper, more urgent. He ached to be inside her, driving into her sweet body until she screamed out her pleasure. The kiss broke and Isabelle rolled over quickly, moving her body as close to his as she could. Their lips met again, urgent need an increasing rhythm in their blood. Her breasts now pressed against his chest, peaked nipples brushing over his skin.

  Mammon ran his hand down her waist to her hips, lifting her leg over his, rocking his hips until the hard length of his cock slid between her slick lips. Isabelle angled her hips, meeting his thrusts.

  The ridges of his hard length rubbed against her clit, bringing breathy little moans from her mouth. He drank them down, one hand holding her head for his sensual assault, the other sliding down cupping her ass, changing the angle enough so he could sink into her.

  He slowly entered her tight channel, the kiss becoming fast and hard. Their tongues dueled now as he began to thrust. The restricted angle kept the entry shallow, the thick head of his cock pulling completely out before sinking into her once more. The friction sent shockwaves deep into his brain, threatening to end this too damn quickly. Gritting his teeth against the inevitable explosion forcing its way through him, he could feel his control slipping.

  He rolled onto his back, Isabelle moving with him, straddling his hips. Tilting her head back, she sank deeper onto his length and cried out softly as he filled her. He thrust up into her body, hands gripping her hips for his onslaught. She moved with him, rolling her hips to meet his.

  She was a pagan sacrifice, head back in wanton abandon, her hips grinding in a fevered dance against him as he pounded deep into her body. Her skin flushed, sweat beginning to glistened on her flesh as she gave herself over to the erotic rhythm. Mammon ran his hands up her waist, then to her breasts swaying so temptingly before him. Taking those sweet mounds in his hands, he pulled and plucked at her peaked nipples, making her body convulse around him. He needed to taste, to bite, to lavish them with his tongue.

  Adjusting Isabelle’s legs around his waist, he continued to thrust up into her, gritting his teeth against the urge to rush to orgasm. He took a pebbled nipple between his lips, sucking on the tip until she moaned and flung her head back. Her fingers twined in his hair as she clutched him to her. Her back arched, and he could feel her body clenching, each surge bringing with it a fresh flood of wet heat.

  She whimpered while he continued his torturous assault on her breasts. Her hands pulled at his hair, as if she were unsure whether she wanted him to bite harder or ease up. He swept his tongue over the red marks, evidence of his claim bringing a satisfied rumble from his chest. This position kept the head of his cock bumping into her womb, making her core clamp down around him, threatening to blow his mind apart. Suddenly she gripped his hair, threw her head back, and cried out as she exploded around him.

  Her long, low moan intensified the insane tingle at the base of his spine, drawing his balls tight. Each pulse of her body tightened around his cock in waves as pleasure washed over her. Mammon allowed his lips to trail up her throat, along her jaw, to her mouth, claiming what belonged to him. She opened fully, soft mews of contentment filling the kiss.

  He continued to thrust up into her, his own release hovering on the edge of his mind. His eyes flashed liquid flame and he rolled her to her back, pinning her hands over her head. How did she always shatter him like this? Despite his rough handling of her, she always responded, opening herself up for him. Flames licked up his spine, increasing the desperation of his thrusts, and apparently inciting a fresh wave of liquid heat within her.

  Her body pulsed, gripping him like a fist. He felt complete in that moment, so deeply entwined in her, he would never know where she ended and he began. Mammon tried desperately not to roar, so his brothers wouldn’t know what they were doing. He managed to hold back his shout of pleasure, just barely, spilling his seed deep into her body, heat spreading fire through his limbs.

  Panting hard, shaking with the aftermath of a release that had just blown his head off, he lifted his weight from her, locking his eyes on hers. A smile spread across her kiss-swollen lips, and suddenly she began to giggle.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up with a languid stretch, whispering low in his ear. “Think they heard us?”

  Mammon let out a barked laugh and then covered her lips again, unwilling to separate from her body just yet. “I don’t give a damn if they did. I will shout my claim to the Olympus and back if need be. Everyone will know you belong to me, and I to you.”

  Isabelle felt the smile on her lips as those words sunk into her heart. He was claiming her—with all her flaws and her crazy-ass abilities. He looked down at her like she alone lit the world. Was this love? That insane tightness to your heart when you looked into the eyes of the person who made you feel cherished? Crazy things were happening around her. Demons, gods, angels. The end of the world imminent. The realization her life was forever changed, none of it mattered. Only this moment, when his eyes glowed from within, his body nestled deeply within hers. This second could stretch into eternity, and she would know it. As sure as she knew her own name, she loved him.

  “Your mind is wandering. Come back to me, Minx.” Blinking, she gave the demon above her a smile. His concerned look did funny things to the eternal butterflies in her stomach.

  “I was just thinking. It is all different now. I am, my future is. It was ripped out of my hands, thrown into the air, and now I have to piece together my future.” Isabelle ran her hands down his arms, feeling every ridge of muscle and the soft dips in his skin from the scars.

  “You…” She paused, trying to find the words. Did you just come out and tell someone you loved them? What if he didn’t reciprocate? Panic made her heart beat faster, and she slowly took in a breath and let it out again. “You’re the glue that holds my future together. I don’t think I can—no,
I know—I couldn’t do this without you, Greed.”

  “Mammon,” his voice corrected her gently.

  A smile spread on her lips as she recalled Abbadon telling her he hated to be called by his name. She felt as if they had reached some unacknowledged goal.

  “Mammon, my demon. I love you.” Her heart was tight in her chest at the admission.

  The seconds seemed to stretch to infinity, the air tingling between them, with a low rumble he took her mouth with fervor. He ran his tongue insistently along the seams of her lips until she gasped, parting for him. He devoured her mouth. His hand closed around her throat, holding her for his continued onslaught. His thumb brushed back and forth over her hammering pulse, until she trembled, weak from the kiss.

  Pulling back, he smiled, the act lightening his face. He was handsome when he was all grumpy and dour, but when he smiled, he was heartbreakingly gorgeous. Isabelle’s heart fluttered, her body trembling after his kiss.

  “I am not good with words, but I am good with actions. I crave you. No, it’s more than that. You’re my light. You belong here.” He lifted her hand and placed it over his heart. Tears sprang to her eyes. He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the palm gently.

  Even if the words were foreign to him, she knew how he felt, and they had a lifetime for him to learn the words ‘I love you.’ Until then, she could accept his devotion, and she would show him just how much she loved him.

  A bang at the door had Mammon glaring. Oh, if looks could kill.

  “You two done sucking face? Lu wants to talk to everyone.” Isabelle erupted into giggles at Ze’s words from the other side of the door. Mammon was less impressed. He reached down and picked up his boot, slinging it at the door. “Okay! Okay! Continue with the horizontal carnal knowledge gathering thing.”