Genesis Queen (The Road to Hell Series)

by Miller, Gracen

  Madison kicked into a sprint to her bedroom. Her inability to run off steam thanks to the Demon Lock left her feeling caged. She slammed her bedroom door and paced the room. It wasn’t enough physical exertion to take the edge off her irritation.

  Nix has always been there for me. Micah has not. Just because he skirted the edges of her life after abandoning her and Amos didn’t qualify as a commitment in her book.

  Yet that reality altered none of her yearnings. A Queen of Hell should be stronger than this. Weakness was for lesser demons. She had to remain strong, resilient against her longing for her husband. A fine, honorable man stood at her side, willing to save her any way he could. Nix’s unselfishness made her angry, while at the same time plucked at her heartstrings.

  No way would Micah make the same sacrifice.

  Madison bolted into her closet, ditched her clothes, and pulled on a pair of running shorts and a tank top. She knotted her hair into a ponytail and crammed her feet into tennis shoes. She hit the treadmill and bumped it to high without a warm-up. Running as if she could evade the demons chasing her, the sound of her heart pulsed in her ears and hurt her chest. Sweat trickled between her breasts and her lungs burned.

  She continued to run.

  “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

  She tripped at the sound of Kur’s voice. Hands grappling at the treadmill’s handrails, she caught them as her knees buckled, just barely saving herself from eating high-speed rubber. Panting, she smacked the off button and slammed into the controls with a grunt.

  “This is my bedroom!” She gasped for breath. “Ever hear of knocking?”

  “I knocked. You didn’t answer.” With a confident swagger, the dragon moved away from his reclined position against her shut bedroom door.

  “FYI, an unanswered knock means go away, not enter my private domain.”

  “My apologies. I’ve been in Hell for many years. I’m obviously not up to speed on my manners.”

  “Whatever.” Madison snorted. The dragon knew better. “What do you want, Kur?”

  “Zen is missing.”

  “He’s not a pet with a defined perimeter.” She swiped her palm over her face. Yuck. It came away wet. “Last time I checked, he was free to go about as he pleased.”

  The dragon’s reserved stare hinted he had other reasons for his visit.

  “Why are you really here, Kur?”

  “Were you serious about what you said? That we cannot kill you regardless which side you choose?”

  “Yes. Were you serious about not being disappointed?”

  “Very much.” He stalked closer.

  She held her hand up. “Don’t get too close. I stink.” She needed a shower, a bottle of water, and a deep muscle massage. Not necessarily in that order.

  “You smell fine. Do you willingly accept dominion over the dragons?”

  “If you’re asking if I plan to remove your Scroll, the answer is no.” Madison gave a half-laugh. She’d discovered her demon was very possessive. “You dragons represent power. My Lynx won’t allow me to relinquish power willingly.”

  Kur grinned. “Then you should know Micah had already planned to give us to you as a gift when you were throned as Queen of Hell.”

  Her belly swirled either with nerves or the betrayal of mini-dragons. “You’re not at odds with him as you claimed?”

  “Not entirely.” Kur ran his fingertips across the dark scruff on his jaw.

  “Everything you said in Hell was a lie?”

  “Not everything.”

  “Explain. Fast.” She kept her breathing steady even though her pulse raced. “Starting with your reasons for giving me the dragon blade to kill Micah if you weren’t truly at odds with him. And it better be good.”

  “Micah did kill the dragon leader before me. His actions were justified and his to make.”

  Odd outlook from a fellow dragon. Madison waited for him to continue.

  “I did not truly expect you to defeat him in Hell when I conferred my blade to you. And he told me to convince you to come after him.”

  “You speak telepathically with him.” Not a surprise.

  “Yes. Would you like for me to continue?” She nodded. “Beliel told me to send Phoenix earthbound with one of my scales to aid in that deception. Phoenix would come back into Hell’s fold so long as you were a part of it. When you defeated Micah, it surprised us both. Our expectation was a fight that ended in his triumph and your succession as Queen of Hell. That was always the plan.”

  No wonder he and Elias hadn’t harmed one another. Their battle had been for show only. “Did he know you gave me a dragon blade?”

  “Yes. He was that confident of his ability to manage you. Dragon scales were the only known toxins against angels. That he survived is miraculous.”

  Madison rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “How much of this truth does Zen know?”

  “None.” Kur hooked his thumb in the waistband of his pants. “He cannot read my mind.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “If you are to maintain command of the dragons, you should be privy to the truth.”

  Had Petra known her father planned to give her the Scroll? Was that why she’d suggested Zen retrieve it? Being stage-managed by Micah was bad enough. Adding Petra to that list of manipulators, after giving her stepdaughter a modicum of trust, scored along her nerves like cat claws against her flesh.

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t send all of you home right now.”

  His dark eyes held hers. “You have our loyalty. We will defend you to the death, against anything, even our fathers.”

  Fathers? “Who are your fathers?”

  “Micah and Zennyo Ryuo. Your Zen specifically, not his entire race.”

  Madison sucked in a shocked breath. “Do you care to explain how that came to pass?” And why hadn’t Zen told her immediately?

  “Not my story to tell. Neither would it be particularly accurate. Our creation was accidental, non-sexual, and before the Fall.”

  “Why do you remain loyal to Micah and not Zen if they’re both your creators?”

  “The dragons were split on masters after the four brothers crafted Hell. Some sided with Zen, others with Micah. My faction attempted to remain neutral, honoring them both.” He shrugged. “It didn’t work out.”

  Madison rotated her hand in a silent command to keep explaining.

  “We fought side-by-side with them both on differing wars. While the Kings were building Hell, Beliel was practically non-existent on earth. But when the Kings of Hell decided to make a play for earth’s residents, we assisted him. I suspect Zen disapproved. We afforded Hell too much power. I believe that’s why Zen crafted the Scroll, to lock us in our hellish cage. To have a true understanding, the question would have to be posed to him.”

  What creatures did the other four Scrolls lock away? Kur’s reasoning made sense. Being tasked with keeping the balance, the immortal would’ve seen the dragons as an advantage to the hellish empire. As their creator, locking them away was more logical than annihilating them. How much else had her peacekeeping friend kept from her? She muttered every curse word she knew in her head.

  “Manipulated by Micah….” and Zen, too. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why am I surprised?”

  “It’s unfair to lay this transgression at Beliel’s feet. He wasn’t even aware you possessed the Scroll until you opened our gate. The last I knew Zen had hidden our Scroll from him and he was still searching for it. I was surprised when we were called out of our cage.” He angled his head to the side, his judgment keen. “The manipulator here would be your trusted advisor or Petra.”

  With the emphasis on trusted. Madison wished she had something to throw at the dragon’s head. “Defending my husband will get your ass tossed back into Hell ASAP.”

  Kur executed a minute nod. “Fair enough. May I say one more thing?”

  Asking permission before speaking? She was sure not to like what he had to
say. “Go ahead.”

  “The fact that Zen trusted you with a creation he considers volatile and dangerous is a testament to his faith in you. Disregarding this fact would diminish the importance of the sacrifice he made.”

  Defending Zen wasn’t anything she cared to listen to, either. “Why’d you align with me after everything was said and done? You insisted I leave Hell after I stabbed Micah.” Jacked up on her husband’s seraph, she’d wanted to remain. “You said the soon-to-come fallen angels massacred your dragons and that was why you would aid me. Was all of that a lie?”

  “No. I might have omitted the precise truth, but I didn’t exactly prevaricate.”

  “Kur, I’m this close”—she indicated how close with her finger and thumb pinched together, turning her fingertips white—“to tossing your ass back in Hell. Don’t make me pull the answers out of you.”

  “What I said about Elias not being a King you wanted to screw with was the truth. He’d have peeled your skin from your bones, wallowed in your blood, danced to your screams, and started all over again. He and I are not friends, never have been, and are not likely to ever be associates. I would kill him happily for you just because you ask. I, also, spoke true about the fallen angels. Many of them were our enemies.”

  “Were?” She elevated an eyebrow.

  “Allow me to finish. None of the Four Kings were involved in the slaughter of my race. When Beliel discovered so many of us had been butchered because of our affiliation with the Atlantians through Zen, he took out the fallen responsible. When I told you I wanted to pick Beliel’s bones clean, that was said only to convince you of the deception.”

  A lie in other words. “Micah thinks if I trust you, he has a foot inside the door to my heart?”

  Kur shrugged. “That I cannot say. I was instructed to protect you and not to give away my alliance with him. However, the moment the Scroll was placed upon you, my allegiance to him evaporated. You are my only master.”

  Madison was no one’s master, but she let the statement slide for the moment. “How much of that does Zen know?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Zen’s culpability in this cover-up bothered her more than any betrayal perpetrated by Micah. How could her friend believe a host of dragons he had imprisoned would be willing to help her? Why hadn’t he expected them to side with her husband? She aimed to find out soon.

  ***

  Micah stood at the edge of the healing waters, the tide alternating between flowing to the edge of his feet and washing up to his calves. Somewhere in the rolling mass, his brother regained his energy. Waiting strained his patience. Anxious to return to Madison immediately, he tamped down his unease for her safety and turned to a mound of bleached bones. As he approached the hodgepodge of skeletons, they arranged themselves into a chair with a clacking noise.

  Sitting, he stared over the terrain and wondered for the first time why the healing waters were reminiscent of an earthly beach. He remembered no forethought going into the construction, but when the four fallen angels had started Hell, they’d crafted many things without much consideration.

  Those days were long gone and he could almost believe another soul had lived them. Times had been much different on earth after their departure from Heaven than they presently were. The humans Father had demanded they watch over had altered drastically since that ill-fated day. Not that with their evolution the humans were any less pathetic compared to their original counterparts. Oh, no, to his advantage they remained weak-willed, yet still venerated pets to his father. And Micah would work tirelessly to oppose his parent as the light-bearer to mankind, opening humanity’s eyes to the knowledge God wanted hidden. Information that would guarantee the mortals’ perpetual fall from grace.

  Before Beliel’s ejection from Heaven, a Zennyo Ryuo had been referred to as Volj, a word that specifically translated into ‘guns’ and ranked them as Father’s personal snipers. Only one hundred had been gifted with immortality after Pandora butchered the pacifist race. As a species devoted to God, they did His bidding as He commanded, even after the Pandora fiasco.

  Fools. Every last one of them duped by Father.

  He hadn’t resented them for their loyalty even though he still failed to understand their blind faith. He’d been a friend to Madison’s Zennyo Ryuo, fought as allies on multiple occasions. Until the Fall. Then overnight, they’d become enemies to be reviled and hunted down by all Volj. Adversaries because his parent deemed them foes. The unfairness a chronic chafe to his ideology of family. He would never cast his son aside because of a disagreement.

  Father restrained his mighty Volj assassins when he discovered the Kings were providing a home to the lost souls he’d banished from Heaven. Those souls had converged in Sargo—a purgatory-like realm in today’s lingo—and given one another a lamenting sort of comfort. Exiled souls deserved a home, too. The four fallen brothers suddenly held a purpose, and Hell a reason for existing. It irked him to think Father might endorse their domain.

  Some of the fallen angels assisted them. Others had sought death, and then there were the brother and sister comrades who resided among humans, pretending to be mortal. Living very earthly lives, nurturing families, aging and dying, only to start the process over again. In his estimation, no reason for existing.

  Micah spied Elias’s head emerging from the bubbling red waters. In angelic form, his twin stumbled through the thick liquid—a mixture of the damned’s blood and tears—and crumpled to his knees before him on the bone-pebbled shore.

  His brother gasped for breath as he sat on his heels, his arms hanging limp at his sides. Brown eyes flashed gold, with a hint of his kingly rank in his pupils. “She’s strong, zkihtak.”

  Beliel rose from his skeleton chair and crouched before him. The clicking behind him indicated the make-do seat crumbled into a heap. Madison was stronger than he’d estimated if Eliel remained this puny after spending so long in the healing waters.

  “She’ll be an asset to Hell.”

  His sibling wiped the moisture off his face with his palm. “Or the destruction of it.”

  “Do not start that again.” Micah ground his teeth together. He’d tolerate no slur against his wife, not even if it matched his own doubts.

  “Someone must play the part of Devil’s advocate. You’re not willing to consider the alternative.” His brother sucked in a ragged breath and released it slowly. The dark flesh beneath his eyes reminded Micah of war paint, a testament to the fatigue Madison had induced in him. “I have no idea why my comment enraged her so quickly. I’ve always nettled her.”

  “Madison’s not the docile woman you intimidated before.” He offered his hand, but wasn’t surprised when his brother shook his head, denying the assistance. Pride could be a bitch sometimes. “She’s matured, grown in confidence. She will be an asset to Hell.”

  “How can you be certain? She wasn’t overjoyed at your arrival.”

  The alternative wasn’t an option. If the substitute were seriously considered, it would herald his desire to seek the cold abyss of death. “I wish I could explain why I feel the way I do. I ask for your trust one final time.”

  “If she disappoints once more, what then? Your life is bound to her.” A sour note between them and had been since he covenanted with Madison on their marriage. “We kill her, we lose you. It’s a lose-lose situation.”

  If you can kill Madison. He bit back that retort. “Everything will work out. I have a good feeling about our future.”

  “A good feeling.” Elias grunted. “Right, zkihtak, nothing bad will result from our Madison project. I want her to work out as much as you do.” Unlikely. How could he when he didn’t love Madison the way Micah did? “A Lynx united with Hell makes us unstoppable, but if she’s against us….” His twin whistled. “Trouble in the worst fucked-up kind of way.” He slashed a shaky thumb across his throat. “I’ll kill her before I allow her to take Hell down, which creates further problems. Not just a dead King, a weakened Hell, but a nep
hew who will be gunning for us. A nephew with the unbelievable makeup of archangel, Lynx succubus, and human…might I remind you his powers are inconceivable in magnitude?” Elias wobbled as he pushed to his feet. “You can take your good feelings and shove them up your ass. The time for results has passed.”

  Tension cramped Beliel’s belly. “Are you saying you cannot or will not trust me now, when everything is coming together?”

  “Trust you?” He laughed. “No question I have trusted you. And even continue to trust you. I’m demanding results. What do your Azura stones indicate?”

  “Madison is an enormous facet in my future.”

  Eliel expelled a relieved breath. “It’s time for Hell’s Genesis Queen to claim her legacy.”

  He believed that was precisely what the prophecy indicated.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Amos plowed through a horde of zombies, spilling guts all over the screen. Blood splashed on the television and dripped, creating a somewhat realistic illusion of gore, if he were to wear a mask in a real-life combat situation. Whipping and slashing his sword in one hand, he lopped off heads while shooting the undead between the eyes with the weapon in his other hand. Maybe a hundred zombies left to go before he beat the system and was crowned king of Zombie Wars!

  Again.

  His heart wasn’t interested in the fake killing any more. Video warfare grew boring. A different hunger prickled his curiosity. He wanted to kill something real. A tangible entity that spewed guts and genuine blood. While relishing their pleas for compassion, he’d be a stone-cold killer and lop their heads off. A kick-ass Sherlock. Just like Nix.

  Momma insisted he run and hide when she grew a wee bit nervous. It wasn’t fair. He was ten. Almost eleven, for Christ’s sake! Zen said age was just a number, not worth remembering. He was years older than other kids his age. He’d already graduated high school. What ten-year-old could claim that? Not that he knew anyone his age. Surrounded by old folks, the youngest person he knew was his Sherlock hero. He wanted to be like his adopted daddy when he grew up. Badass. Afraid of nothing, not even what planned to kill them.