by Larissa Ione
“Same, basically,” Azagoth said. “The dark void inside a soul is fuel for a soul-eating demon. But if I destroy a soul, the darkness returns to Satan and makes him more powerful. That’s why so few have the power to destroy souls and why I don’t do it on a whim.” He’d also signed a contract stating he’d pay a hefty price for every soul he destroyed, and that price generally wasn’t worth it. Very little was worth giving up a measure of his power or a slice of his realm. “Why the sudden interest in the internal plumbing of a soul?”
Jim Bob swung slowly around, his expression, while always serious was downright grim. “There are rumblings of a plot to free Satan from his prison. I wonder if enough souls were destroyed if he’d gain the necessary powers required to escape.”
Azagoth studied Jim Bob’s carefully schooled features but, as usual, there was nothing there to read. Still, his question wasn’t an idle one; he was probing Azagoth’s feelings on the matter. Maybe even his involvement.
“Possibly,” Azagoth mused. “But it would take hundreds of years even for me to destroy that many souls. By then Satan most likely would be free. According to prophecy, of course.”
“Of course.” Jim Bob casually waved his hand in front of the fire as he spoke, but if he was looking for heat, he’d have to go elsewhere. Azagoth’s fireplace was as cold as his heart and it had been since the day Lilliana walked out on him. “Have you heard any of this talk?”
That talk was what got the demon in the corner all kinds of dead. Azagoth had known there were multiple plots afoot to rescue Satan, and now he knew that he, himself, was central to many of them.
His children’s deaths were a message: help us, or else.
Azagoth had a scythe full of “or else” for every motherfucker responsible, but he wasn’t going to let Heaven in on this. The less they knew about the pressure being placed on him to back the #FreeSatan cause, the better.
They actually had a fucking hashtag.
What the Free Satan movement didn’t have was a single leader to bring cohesiveness. The most powerful demons and fallen angels in Sheoul were all campaigning for followers who could get behind their unique visions for making Hell great again.
And they all seemed to think Azagoth’s help could be bought.
Or compelled.
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “As long as Satan is imprisoned there will be talk of breaking him out. When he was free someone was always plotting his demise. It’s the circle of life. I wouldn’t worry.”
Jim Bob snorted. “You have more important things to worry about than the End of Days?”
The lives of his children and his mate were more important, so...yes.
Especially now that Lilliana was coming home. Ares’s child just needed to hurry the fuck up and be born. He had no idea why Lilliana had insisted she be there for the birth, but by Satan’s balls, it felt like the Horseman’s mate had been pregnant for years.
Lilliana had been gone for nine months now, and every single day, every single minute, had been torture. Not that he had anyone to blame but himself. It had taken him a long time to realize that, but now that he had, he’d been working on becoming the male Lilliana deserved.
“...and then I was abducted by alien angels from an alternate universe,” Jim Bob said. “They gave me pizza before the anal probe.”
“What?” Azagoth snapped, re-focusing his thoughts. They went to Lilliana at the most inappropriate times. She really needed to come home. Fucking Ares. “Did you say something about pizza?”
Jim Bob rolled his eyes. “Pizza? That’s what snapped you out of your funk? Not the alternate universe or anal probe?”
Azagoth shoved away from his desk. “I’m hungry, not horny.” Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Sure, he could go for a couple of large pepperonis. He hadn’t eaten in days. Hadn’t eaten much at all since Lilliana left.
But he really was horny as hell. It had been eons since he’d gone this long without sex, but more than that, he’d never gone this long without Lilliana.
In the past, he’d had an endless parade of sexual partners. Demons had thrown themselves at him and Heaven had kept him supplied with angels to make baby Memitim with, so no, there’d been no shortage of sex. Which was fortunate because, as his fallen angel Chief of Operations, Zhubaal, liked to say, “There’s nothing more frightening than the Grim Reaper when he’s horny.”
Yup, he was horny as fuck. But for all the evil that ran through his veins, he’d never even so much as glanced at the females who tried to seduce him while Lilliana was away. And there had been thousands, most of them demons who wanted to trade sex for mercy. But mercy wasn’t his thing, and he’d laughed as his griminions whisked them away, ushering their souls to their new, nightmarish digs.
He’d never been tempted, not once. Even his evil side wouldn’t betray Lilliana for a blow job from a succubus.
But his evil side did enjoy the game. It enjoyed toying with the angels and fallen angels who came into his office thinking that with Lilliana gone they could get their claws into him.
Jim Bob’s fingers snapped in front of his face. “Yo. What the fuck, man? Put your horns and fangs away. And stop snarling. Makes my wings itch.”
Azagoth blinked as he once again climbed out of the mire of his own thoughts. His body vibrated with a dark lust as the memories of toying with prey collided with a sexual awareness that burned deep in his muscles. Warmth crept into his cold flesh, and his cock, already excruciatingly hard, began to throb to the beat of his pulse.
His pulse.
Holy hell, his heart had started beating again.
“Lilliana,” he breathed, joy taking his breath as her presence filled his soul. “She’s here. She’s home.”
Another spike of awareness pierced him, a powerful energy signature he’d never felt before.
What the fuck?
A possessive, smoky growl rattled his chest, and his hackles rose with his wings. Someone else was here. Someone crazy strong.
Lilliana wasn’t alone.
Chapter Seven
Lilliana inhaled a shaky breath as she stood on the portal pad inside Sheoul-gra, the symbols engraved into the stone glowing hotly. A breeze swirled around her, rattling the leaves on the perpetually blooming citrus trees and bringing their tangy and sweet scents to her nose. Grassy lawns stretched for acres, broken by babbling streams and worn paths—and the occasional ancient Greek column or demonic statue that rose into the featureless gray sky.
Several yards away, a fountain that once ran with blood splashed crystal water onto pavers leading to outbuildings that housed dozens of Unfallen angels and Memitim. And beyond the fountain, Azagoth’s palace towered over all, its pale walls gleaming.
Relief sifted through her, temporarily replacing her nervousness. The realm was attuned to Azagoth’s moods, and she wasn’t sure what she’d have done if she’d come back to find the kind of decay and evil that had once held court here.
The Grim Reaper’s realm could be beautiful but disconcerting; look, but not too closely, touch, but don’t feel.
Her gut turned over, and inside her rounded belly, the baby stirred as if sensing the return of her anxiety.
Except that anxiety was too mellow a word for what she was experiencing. Really, she was flat-out terrified, mere moments away from seeing her husband for the first time in months. For the first time since she’d left him.
And he didn’t have a clue that she was pregnant.
She almost regretted telling Reaver that she didn’t need him to accompany her down here when he’d flashed her from Ares’s Greek island to the outer portal. She should have at least allowed Maleficent, a hellhound that had shadowed her everywhere on the island, to come with her. The hound had refused to leave her side until Cara distracted the beast long enough for Lilliana to get away. She was going to miss the moose-sized canine, but Cara assured her that Mal would find her if the hellhound had bonded with her.
Lilliana was going to hav
e a hard enough time trying to explain bringing home a baby, let alone a pet that ate people.
Resting her palm on her baby bump, she stepped off the landing pad and started toward the palace, her heart pounding wildly. Azagoth would have sensed her presence by now.
Before that thought even faded, the skin on the back of her neck tingled, and she stopped in her tracks.
He was here.
He was behind her.
She should turn around and face him. But damn, she wasn’t ready for this.
Closing her eyes, she let out a long, ragged breath, and when she spoke, she could only manage a whisper. “Azagoth.”
“Look at me, Lilliana.”
The sound of Azagoth’s voice, commanding but soft, sent a tremor of emotion through her. They’d spoken almost daily via Skype, so she knew he wanted her to come home. But how would he feel about their child after he’d once told her he didn’t want any more children? How would he feel about the fact that she’d kept this from him for nine months?
Bracing herself for anything, she swung around.
Dark power emanated from Azagoth as he stood a few feet away, his glossy obsidian wings folded rigidly behind him, his short hair as black as his shoes, slacks, and shirt. He’d rolled up the sleeves, revealing tattoos he’d stolen from Thanatos, and his hands were clenched at his sides.
She couldn’t read him at all, and she wasn’t sure how to process that.
His emerald eyes met hers for a mere heartbeat and then dropped to her belly.
“I guess I have something to tell you...”
The sound of laughter came from somewhere behind her, and Azagoth’s head snapped back up as two of his sons, Journey and Maddox, came into view just up the path. The two Memitim were goofing off with their cell phones, oblivious to the fact that in a moment they were going to be in the middle of something they didn’t want to be anywhere near.
Azagoth hissed, his wings unfurling as he swept her into his arms and lifted her into the air. The breath whooshed from her lungs as the ground fell away, but Azagoth tucked her close, his grip secure but gentle even as he dive-bombed his startled sons. He banked hard, forcing them to the ground before shooting across the courtyard to land on the balcony outside their bedroom.
Lilliana swayed a little as she found her footing, but Azagoth’s arm remained in place, a solid band of support. “Azagoth—”
“Shh.” He covered her mouth with his in a desperate kiss. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her lips.
God, she’d missed him too, and with a cry of relief, she melted against him.
* * * *
Azagoth moaned at the taste of Lilliana on his lips. It was as if he’d been starving for months and had finally been given a morsel of gourmet cuisine.
It wasn’t enough, was merely an appetizer, and he cursed as he broke the kiss and stepped back to avoid crushing her belly.
Her pregnant belly.
Holy shit.
She looked up at him with big amber eyes. “So you aren’t angry?”
Fuck, yeah, he was. But no. How could he be? Yes. No. Fuck. There were so many emotions tangled up inside him that he wasn’t sure how to answer. Obviously, she’d been pregnant for months and hadn’t told him. Had she known she was pregnant when she left him? Who else knew while he’d been kept in the dark like a fool?
Yeah, he was a little steamed. But he was also a jackass who’d pushed her away in the first place.
Screw it. It was too complicated and frankly, he didn’t give a shit right now. He had other needs to address, like the fact that Lilliana was home and even his evil side was thrilled.
And it wanted to claim its mate.
“I’ll sort it out later,” he said roughly as he fisted her skirt and yanked it up. “Right now I need you.”
“Yes.” She threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around him as she hooked his thigh with her leg. “Hurry.”
Her nails dug into his shoulders and her swollen belly pressed into his abs and there was no way this was going to work.
As carefully as his desperation would allow, he spun her around and braced her against the railing.
She looked around at him from over her shoulder, her long chestnut hair draped across her back, her mouth quirked in a naughty smile that hit him right in the cock. “Right here?”
Snarling with impatience, he spared a second to look out at his domain. A group of Unfallen and Memitim were wandering around and glancing up at the balcony while trying not to look obvious. Journey and Maddox must have a fucking loudspeaker.
With a thought and a whisper, a thick black fog rolled in from the outer edges of his realm, shrouding the land in darkness and his balcony in privacy.
“Nice,” she murmured.
No, there was nothing nice about it. That fog could have contained acid, poison, or millions of flesh-eating creatures if he’d wished it. As it was, it would leave an ashen residue on everything it touched. He’d have to summon rain later.
Then they could make love in that, too.
She left you. She lied to you.
Yes, she had. But he hadn’t been a pillar of virtue either, so he quashed his inner voice, because right now he needed to connect with her, to re-establish their bond...if not their trust.
She seemed to agree, her hand stretching back to grip his thigh and pull him even closer. The heat of her palm though his slacks was nearly his undoing. It had been so long. Too long.
As he reached beneath her skirt and tore away her panties, he swore they’d never be apart like that again. Never.
His fingers found her wet and swollen, so ready for him it made his knees weak.
Lilliana squirmed with anticipation, her slender shoulders rising and falling with every panting breath. Her nails dug into his leg so hard that it was painful. Deliciously, sinfully painful.
“Hurry,” she whispered again.
Some part of him wanted to deny her request—the part of him that was angry about being lied to. It wanted to drag this out, to punish her with pleasure.
The logical part of him realized that wasn’t much of a punishment.
The horny part of him just couldn’t freaking wait.
With a growl, he ripped open his fly.
She moaned as he pressed the head of his erection against her center, but even though he wanted to drive into her with a frenzied thrust, he was careful. His child was inside her, and he wasn’t going to risk hurting either one of them.
Very slowly, he eased inside her welcoming heat, her slick walls gripping his shaft in an erotic caress.
He wasn’t going to last long, but that was okay. The love of his life had come back to him, and they had eons to make up for lost time.
She sighed his name as he filled her, and the sigh became a husky “Yes” when he began to move, initiating a slow rhythm that was still almost too fast.
“I missed this,” he rasped, his grip tightening on her hips.
He pumped into her, his thrusts coming harder and faster as the pleasure spread and intensified. The soft sounds Lilliana made as she pushed against him, meeting every stroke with enthusiasm, drove him even higher. They’d been a perfect sexual match from the beginning, and after almost a year of separation, nothing had changed.
The first stirrings of climax tingled in his balls and the base of his spine, and before he got too carried away, he thrust his hand between her legs and found her swollen bud. She cried out, bucking at the instant orgasm.
Her pleasure triggered his, and he roared in ecstasy that went beyond the physical. It was mental, emotional, so powerful his wings erupted and shrouded them in a cocoon of passion as he emptied himself inside her. His release peaked, ebbed, and peaked again, repeating the cycle over and over until he lost count and his legs would barely support him.
Finally, as his lust eased, another hunger roared into focus. The intensity of it shocked him, and without thinking, he twisted her head and bit into her throat. She moaned as he too
k a powerful draw, starved for both the connection and the sweet nectar of nourishment only she could give.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he should be more gentle, but before he could tame his inner beast, another voice pierced his awareness.
Father.
The baby. Holy hell, he could feel the baby.
He was a father thousands of times over, but he hadn’t even met most of his children. Those he did know hadn’t come into his life until they were decades, if not centuries, old. This was the first time he’d hold his own infant offspring. The first time he’d fathered a child with a female he loved.
This was everything to him.
The fog dispelled and the sky above turned brilliant blue as his world became right again. He tightened his massive wings around their bodies, shielding them from view.
“Azagoth,” she gasped. “The sky. It’s never been so bright.”
Sated and riding a killer dopamine high, he swiped his tongue over the bite wound to seal it and gathered her against him. After nine agonizing months of separation from his mate, hours of bone-crushing loneliness was at an end.
“Lilli,” he murmured, as he gently pulled her upright so her back was to his chest and they were still connected. “I love you so much.”
She brought one of his hands down to her belly, and his heart fluttered at the movement beneath his palm. “I love you too.”
They were going to have to talk after this. Talk a lot.
But right this minute he was going to revel in the gift he’d just been given.
His mate.
His baby.
Chapter Eight
His computer.
His baby.
As Cipher grabbed his laptop from the pedestal of ice it had been sitting on, he didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see anything in his entire life.
“You assholes better have taken care of it.” He ran his hand over the smooth protective case. “There’s a scratch. See, right there. Fuckers,” he muttered.
“Leave us,” Lyre said to the demon assholes who’d unlocked the room containing Bael’s confiscated loot. “I can handle it from here.”