“You’re the one that wanted to come!” I put my hands around my mouth so that my words would carry through the rosebush lined path.
The heady scent of sex hit me in the face like a hot wave. We pushed open the doors and walked into without knocking. It was a spicy mix of sweat, lust and addiction. Uriah’s entire body was as tight as a bedspring.
“You’ll be more uncomfortable if you remove that stick from your arse.” I said.
“I didn’t realise that all demons were unfaithful to their lovers.” He bit back. “What would Lucifer say about your presence here?”
I shrugged. “He’d be disappointed he couldn’t watch.” I said. Lucifer did not like to share me unless he was there.
A wave of sadness washed over me at the thought of my home, but I forced my expression to brighten despite my internal conflict.
The floor was a mass of writhing bodies but a path opened in the centre of the marble floor that led directly to the raised platform at the foot of the staircase. She sat on a throne in front of a red velvet curtain. Her legs hooked over each armrest. Amore waved daintily and I approached.
I decided to ignore the human male on his knees in front of her as he feasted on her core like a starving man.
I pulled the fabric of my dress away from my cleavage and fanned myself with it. Asmodeus tended to raise the heat of the room and I was feeling the effects.
He did not rearrange himself, despite Uriah’s obvious discomfort. He was visibly aroused. His erection tented his trousers, but his entire stance drew attention to the fact. His shoulders were pulled back and his face was devoid of emotion. I would have said that he was proud of his physical response if I did not know that every second in the presence of the sin of lust was abhorrent to him.
“Who’s your friend, Dahlia Doll?” Asmodeus licked her blood red lips as she eyed the Angel.
A woman on the floor to the left of us reached orgasm with a screaming crescendo as an incubus hammered inside of her. The fevered wet sounds of their bodies slapping together added to the delicious lust that clung to the air like thick humidity.
“Angel.” I answered curtly.
Amore let out a tinkling laugh. The lost souls that were normally attached to her body in a writhing cloud of obscurity were markedly absent in the Human Realities. Her nipples were pebbled as she reclined on the throne. Her eyes closed as she let out a low moan of approval at whatever the man in between her legs was doing.
“You have information for me?” I prompted as I held back a laugh.
“Mm.” She sighed.
Uriah rolled his eyes but said nothing. His attention was directed at the plush velvet curtain behind the platform, as if he wanted to pay attention to anything but the debauchery happening around him.
“Stay a while.” Amore purred. “After Christian is finished, I would be more than happy to show you the finer points of his technique. He really is quite exquisite.” She shuddered as her body grew taut and an orgasm washed over her face. It was rather impressive that she could hold a conversation as she was coming but Asmodeus wasn’t called the Queen of Lust for nothing.
“Considering keeping him around?” I crooked a brow. “London is overrun with daemons as it is.”
Amore waved her hand as Christian straightened his body and bowed to the queen. His eyes were dazed as if under a spell.
“I’m sure that you heard about my prophecy coming to fruition.” Amore licked her bottom lip.
“I didn’t have much of a chance to congratulate you at the previous meeting.” I bowed my head to the side. “I would have thought that you wouldn’t have attended, considering the Human Realities are your home now?”
Amore laughed. “I am simply free from the confines of Hell. I can still go wherever I please. I had to find some poor soul to take my place as tether to the Seventh Circle, but it was worth it.” She clicked her fingers and Damian strode up to the platform. He was completely nude.
Uriah diverted his eyes from the incubus’s proud manhood. I was sure that the sight of Damian’s cock was a threat to his purity. Damian’s rod was exquisite, but then again, he had been designed by the Queen of Lust.
“The King of the Leviathan is not the one leading the Valkyries.” Amore informed me. Damian knelt by her side so she could bury her hands in his shoulder length dirty blonde hair.
“I thought as much.” I said. “Miriam was attacked by someone with red eyes.”
“Abaddon?” Amore queried in disbelief. “Lucifer’s second would never go against him.”
“I agree,”
Uriah watched our discussion like a ping-pong tournament. His lips pursed as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. There was no doubt that the Lord of the Summerland would hear about the exchange later.
“The swarm must have been moving into the Human Realities.” Asmodeus informed me. “The cities are becoming rife with Envy demons. One would think that their master is sending them here for some reason.”
“Maybe he wants to challenge you and take control of the city?” Uriah supplied helpfully.
“London already belongs to the corrupted humans and the Witchlings. No Pureblood can hold it.” I informed them. “No even you, Amore. No offence meant.”
Amore doffed an invisible hat. “None was taken.”
“Maybe the Leviathan is looking for something?” I mused to myself and then dismissed the notion. The Leviathan was not the person that had ransacked Miriam’s stall for Ba’el’s sceptre. The slimy bastard had known that I had it.
It had to have been someone that was out of the loop on Hell affairs. My head snapped up and clarity hit me like a bolt of lightning. No… it couldn’t have been…
“Perhaps he is sending his people to safety?” Uriah suggested. “If Hell is in turmoil, maybe he does not want his subjects hurt?”
“Surely he needs them to fight his war?” I retorted as I turned to Amore and bowed my head in respect. “Thank you for your information. We have to go.”
Amore bid us farewell, as I gripped Uriah’s hand and tugged him away from the mansion and into the fresh cool air.
“Why did we have to leave so quickly?” Uriah’s brow furrowed.
My chest heaved as I took deep breaths of fresh air. I pulled us through the ether, to the hallway outside of my front door.
“I did not want her privy to my suspicions.” I told him. My eyes shot to his, “I think that Gabriel is searching for Ba’el’s spectre.”
“That is utterly ludicrous.” Uriah snapped as reared backwards like a wild stallion, determined to put as much distance between us as possible.
“Gabriel has red eyes. Miriam's attacker had red eyes.” I shrugged, by way of explanation. “Whoever ransacked her wares wanted to find the sceptre.”
“What could Gabriel possibly need with Ba'el’s sceptre?” Uriah asked bitterly. “I rescued him from Hell. Why on earth would he want to go back?”
“It’s the only object known to be able to transverse both Heaven and Hell. I'm certain he probably has some nefarious revenge planned.” I replied.
“You can’t just accuse an Angel of an act of war because you didn’t like him.” He spat. “Angels have no desire to journey into your cesspit of a dimension.”
I kept my expression impassive. I did not want him to know that his words had stung.
“You wanted a Lydian coin.” I pointed out. “You wanted passage into Hell.”
“To rescue my brother. Gabriel.” Uriah pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away from me. He sighed heavily, as if the conversation both irritated and frustrated him in equal measure.
“Gabriel is my best lead.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“And the Leviathan is no longer part of the equation?” Uriah hissed.
“You only get red eyes from killing an innocent person. Gabriel is not as pure as you think.” I bit back.
“That logic only applies to Demons!”
I turned around and placed my hand on my d
oor handle. I used my other hand to key in the alarm code. The light turned from red to green with a beep.
“This discussion isn’t over.” I pointed at him.
Uriah laughed without humour. “As if you'd let this go. You’re like a dog with a bone.”
I scowled at his words but turned to the penthouse. I noticed how quiet it was as my heels clicked over the threshold.
There was no background noise of Cbeebies on loop. No “Frozen” soundtrack being blasted through the sound system.
I couldn’t hear the rush of air exiting Petra's lungs as she breathed and the light thump of her heartbeat.
A low groan broke the echoing silence and my hands curled, ready to attack. Steam rose from my fingertips as I called the ice from the foundations of the First Circle to protect me.
Luiz's orange energy, mixed with the distinct tang of wet dog, was splattered over the penthouse like paint.
Uriah stood in the door frame as I took in the scene.
Fear shot through my heart with the speed and burn of a bullet. I forced my steps to be calm and measured but inside I was frantic.
I saw his feet from behind the kitchen island. One of Italian loafers had fallen off, and had somehow broken the flat screen television.
The white fur rug was coated in bright red blood. Arterial. I swallowed bile.
I grabbed Luiz by the lapels and pulled his lulling face towards mine. There were gashes across his face. The deep cuts were not healing as they should have done. Devil’s silver could prevent healing, but as I touched the wounds, I noticed a distinct taste that did not belong to Lucifer's brand of magic.
It tasted like rotten onions and reeked of evil in a twisted form that had no rhyme or reason. I did not recognise the culprit.
“Where is she?” My voice cracked. “Where is Petra!?” I shook him, but got no response as black liquid oozed from the corner of his mouth. I dropped Luiz to the floor and began to pace. My own magic lashed out like jungle vines and coated every inch of my apartment as I searched for clues.
“Where is the Guardian?” I queried, tearing through the apartment. “You were both supposed to protect her?” My words were harsh and grew faster and faster until it was clear that I was hysterical.
Uriah watched without saying a word as I tore from room to room and stripped the sheets of her bed, pulling open her wardrobe.
I heard a low whine and lifted her bed. The Guardian's white fur was stained red with blood and a bolt of iron speared through his belly. His teeth were stained with blood. Uriah pushed into the room and knelt by his side. He placed his hand on the dog’s stomach and his fingers glowed gold. The dogs breathing evened, but even I flinched when the Angel pulled out the short iron rod from the canine’s middle.
I backed out of the room; my heels slipped into a pool of blood that could only have belonged to my daughter.
I fell to my knees. My hands still clasped against the door frame.
Luiz stood up from behind the kitchen counter. He swayed as if he was drunk and leant over to vomit black ooze onto the floor.
“He was too powerful.” Luiz informed me, as he rubbed his mouth with the back of his arm. “Leviathan saliva.” He pointed to the pitch-black goo on the floor that appeared to be smoking around the edges.
“Where is she, Luiz?” My voice was hoarse. “On all Seven Hells, so help me—”
“He took her.” A tear leaked from Luiz's eye and dropped off his chin. His head dropped. “The Leviathan took her.”
A roar built in my throat like a storm.
“He wants the sceptre, Dahlia.” Luiz whispered. “He said it: the sceptre for the girl.”
Chapter 17
Uriah had made a poultice from a crushed golden feather and some sage. He held the concoction over the heat of my stove before spreading it across his palms. He applied the beige mixture to Luiz's face and the scars full of grainy and horrid magic began to knit closed.
All of this happened in my periphery as I paced my apartment and ran through every possible solution in my mind.
I wanted to walk into the swamps of the Fourth Circle with a machete, hacking down trees and demanding retribution. Returning to Envy would have been too predictable though. I had to think of something else.
The Demon inside of me lashed at the edges of my mind and threatened to drag me under. The thirst for blood dried my mouth and caused my hands to clench repeatedly as I played the Leviathan’s impended death through my mind like a movie.
My mouth felt too small and my teeth felt too large. They burnt against my gums as I struggled to hold human form.
I understood Lucifer’s blight. I pulled out the short blunt spectre while reaching inside of my waistband. The object no longer than my forearm.
“I have to give him the sceptre.” I concluded. I placed the Devil’s silver on the kitchen island and buried my fingers in my hair. I tugged my scalp until it burnt.
“You want to give the beast access to heaven?” Uriah's voice was curiously devoid of emotion.
“What other option is there?”
Luiz winced in pain as the last of his facial wounds knitted clothed. “What happened to you?” the Hound blustered angrily. “You need to go to the Fourth Circle and get her back.”
The Guardian yawned from his spot on the sofa. Blood still marred his white fur. If I didn’t know better, I would have said that the canine nodded.
“If I give up the sceptre, then I won’t be able to journey to Hell anymore. That is true.” I allowed in a tiny voice. “But Petra is human. The Human Realities are her home and I can live with my decision.”
Uriah placed the ramekin full of cursed feathers onto the worktop. “And what of Lucifer?” He said in a low and dangerous tone. “You think he will allow his queen to cut herself from Hell like festering flesh?”
“For his daughter?” I quirked a brow.
“There are other ways.” Luiz urged. “We will find Petra. We'll bring her home.”
“And Dahlia will continue to hide in the Human Realities, in a place that her lover can only spend an hour a day in?” Uriah was glib.
“My romantic relations are no business of yours. You oversized pigeon.” I snapped.
I pushed away from the kitchen and stormed into the master bedroom. I pulled off my high heels and surveyed the bottoms. There was blood on the red soles. I pulled out some stretchy black yoga pants and forwent any shoes with a cold and methodical posture.
I was ready for a fight. Luiz was right. There was no way that I was going to allow my daughter to fall into the hands of my enemy.
I shut down any thoughts about what the Leviathan could have been doing to her. Hoping to Hell that she would be respected in his domain.
Uriah cleared his throat. He leant against the door frame of my walk-in closet with his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His wings were hidden away but I could still sense their residue. He was so different from Lucifer. Burning emotion that he refused to allow himself to feel. Uriah was carefully contained but somehow I needled him in a way that both delighted and scared me.
“You could give up your wings.” Uriah said, his eyes were focused on a spot above my shoulder, unseeing. “You could fall if you wished to go back to Hell.”
The lump in my throat made it difficult to speak.
“I’m not a good person, Uriah.” I admitted. “I will ensure that the Fourth Circle is nothing but ash for my daughter’s safety. I promise that I will try to avoid giving the King of the Leviathan the power to enter the Summerland.”
He smiled sadly and pushed away from the door. His steps were confident and sure as he reached out and cupped my jaw in his hand. Uriah's golden eyes searched mine for something. All I could do was stare back at him, powerless.
“Why do they say you’re evil?” Uriah whispered as his nose trailed over the side of my neck as he pushed my hair away from my shoulder. “I am beginning to realise that I've been lied to.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but
his lips crashed into mine and forced my voice back into my throat. The pressure of his lips on mine was too much to bear. My eyes fluttered closed and a low groan echoed from the Angel's throat. He deepened the kiss; my lip throbbed with his bruising pressure.
I was on fire as I gripped the material of his shirt and pushed him away. Our lust hung in the air like a thick blanket and neither of us addressed the chemistry that threatened to spark the air.
“I need to go to Hell. I need to tell Lucifer that the King of Envy has our daughter.”
Uriah blinked as if waking from a daze. “Whatever you think is best.”
The demonic part of me wanted him to blaze red and lash out with jealousy. I wanted him to take me. The other part of me, the rational part, recoiled back and whispered Luc’s name.
Did I want to be a Pet?
Did I want to ride on the curtails of an ambivalent master, vying for attention that he had deprived me of when I needed it the most?
As a youngling in Hell, I had been lost and alone when Luc created me. Too powerful to be treated as anything other than a liability. I had been drawn to Lucifer, the second half of my soul, like a moth to a flame. His own tainted magic had called to my own. The Devil responded to our connection by pushing me into a tower. I could only watch him from afar.
I had grown desperate for his attention, willing to do anything if my master would only pay attention to me.
Uriah was something sweet, decadent, but poisonous. He was everything that I shouldn’t want but somehow he called to me. When Uriah’s golden eyes looked into mine, he saw me. All my rough edges and shadowed corners. He may have flinched back in disgust at my evil, but he saw me.
“I can take away your unhappiness.” Uriah breathed. His lips were inches from my own. “I can twist your uncertainty and your resentment to Lucifer into something else. I can ensure that you will be happy by his side for the end of time.”
“You would do that?” I whispered.
Uriah nodded solemnly. “But if he were to ever raise a hand to you, be certain that he will find himself on the end of my wrath.”
The Devil's Lullaby (The Devil's Advocate Book 2) Page 16