“Present yourself,” he demanded after another hit. Movement to his right. He glanced in that direction. Again, nothing visible. Channeling his magic was innate as he prowled to investigate the noise.
Micah, we may have company. The words rebounded in his head as he slammed into an invisible shield. White flames tipped in blue ruptured around him and he stumbled back.
Angelfire.
“Goddamn.” Elias flicked his cigarette and it sizzled in a burst of blue-nothing when it hit the flame.
“I’m a trifle disappointed, Eliel.” Domiel appeared out of the shadows.
Buzz-cut black hair. A young angel before the Fall. Thin, but lithe, he’d not been built for brawn but rather infiltration. Score one for the younger brother. Domiel must have found favor to be in command of Father’s army. “I’d expected a challenge trapping you and Beliel. Instead you trap yourselves willingly within an Angel Lock.” The angel swaggered closer.
“You trap yourself in the same Lock.” He scanned the terrain as invisible kin blipped on his internal radar.
“I have immortal assistance.”
“Zennyo Ryuo?” Anger pulsed through Eliel’s head. Not that he was surprised by the backstabbing motherfucker and he had tried to warn Madison.
Domiel’s silence was all the confirmation he needed to attribute guilt to Zennyo Ryuo. He’d kill the immortal son-of-a-bitch as soon as his family was safe.
The angel nodded at the flames. “When the Angelfire burns out…well, you know what transpires.”
He’d be dead if he failed to escape the flames before they were extinguished.
Elias ignored his pretentious brother’s taunt. “I’ll eat your heart after I rip it out.”
“You and what army?” As if cued, a host of angels exposed themselves. The reason for his internal radar pings.
At least a hundred. Maybe more. To kill a newly immortal woman and a very mortal, defenseless child?
Jesus-fucking-Christ.
Madison and Amos must represent an enormous hazard to Father to justify this sizeable contingent.
He swallowed past the sudden lump of panic that rose to the back of his throat. With a horde this big, their chances at survival lessened.
“Beliel will watch us kill his whore slowly, before we execute their abomination of an offspring.” Arrogant and delusional bastard, if he believed his brother would complacently observe them harm his family. Micah would fight to the death first. He held his tongue and his brother continued. “We understand with her death, comes his. Convenient. Stupid on his part, linking his life to hers. You’re trussed up for the cooking. Two kings down, two remaining.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two days after Micah and Nix got her off and she forced their climaxes, Madison still wanted to curl into a ball and die of humiliation! One unintentional act had proven she couldn’t resist either of these men. She’d allowed them to touch her together in Hell, and again a couple of days ago, after her husband arrived in her home. While in the protection of Nix’s arms! The scene was set to repeat in her head without a genuine single pang of shame. Blaming her succubus wasn’t even an option. Pretending she was humiliated might fool the guys, but not Lynx.
One of the best freaking orgasms of her life and her demon was eager to replicate the event. Feeding off the two of them at the same time, while both of them touched her, oh yeah, her Lynx was desperate to feast on them again.
Nix hadn’t lifted one finger to stop it from happening. Why should he? He’d already promised to strip her for Micah if he thought it meant she would live.
The kiss she’d shared today with her husband in the mud did nothing to alleviate her randy succubus.
Beside her, the Sherlock’s breathing had deepened. His mortality demanded he sleep, while she probably would never participate in the act again. Damn her immortality.
The King of Hell shifted in his chair across the room. He wasn’t asleep and made no pretense that he was. She pictured him slumped in his seat with his feet propped on the coffee table. She would not look to confirm her suspicions. Either way, she knew his blond hair would gleam in the moonlight that filtered through the windows.
Oh, no, no, no! I am not going there.
Climaxing beneath their attention was good. Usha—her too-honest demon—pointed out.
Better than good. Phenomenal. Guess she was getting super-candid as well.
A mental nod from her succubus.
Madison snuggled a little closer to her Sherlock. She did not want to think of her husband while another man held her.
Can’t ignore the way Micah makes us feel.
Shut up, she snarled in her head. The soft trill of her succubus’s laughter made her eye twitch. She should wake Nix up right now and ask him to make love to her. While her husband watched. Anything to prove to him—and herself—that she was Nix’s woman. Would never be her husband’s woman again.
That she could force them both to climax without touching them intrigued her. She’d felt their releases as if she’d received them into her body. And she’d digested their pleasure like a child without limits in a bag of Reeses. That had been her one and only fleeting moment of mortification.
Madison, came the sound of Petra’s strained telepathy.
Thank God for something else to think about.
They’ve got Amos. Zen is down. He might be dead. He’s not moving, not breathing, and his eyes are glassy, wide open.
Talk fast. Madison pushed off the bed. Nix didn’t wake. Hands balling into fists, she stalked into her closet and flipped the light switch. Someone would die tonight and it wouldn’t be her son. As she threw on clothes, Petra explained.
Elias thought he heard something and he went outside to check around. Zen went down without a blow and when I moved to check on him, someone attacked me. After a struggle, they walloped me with something magical in the back of the head.
Can you move?
No. I’m nearly depleted.
A succubus washed out to the point of depleted meant death. Petra wouldn’t die on Madison’s watch either, not if she could help it.
Madison strode from her closet to retrieve her weapons. “We’ve got trouble.”
From dead asleep to alert, Nix bolted from the bed. Micah rose from his reclined position as the Sherlock pulled on the jeans and shirt he’d discarded on the floor earlier.
“I can’t raise Elias telepathically.” Beliel approached like a dark apparition in the shadowy room.
She flicked the lights with her mind and looked at her husband. A button-up long-sleeved blue shirt, a navy blue vest, and red tie. Dressy casual and he looked fantastic. A quick peek at Nix, his worn-out jeans hugged his too-fucking perfect-ass and left no imagination to the goods he packed between his legs.
These men are eatable, her Lynx pointed out the obvious.
And now is so not the time.
“Zenny tell you something’s wrong?” Nix thrust the nose of his gun into the waist of his jeans. She doubted he’d use the weapon. Whatever came at them would require magical warfare.
“No.” Madison quickly explained what Petra had relayed.
“Only divine influence can render Zennyo Ryuo comatose.” Micah’s eyes went fiery. “If he’s not pretending.”
“He’s not pretending!” She clenched her teeth and strapped shuriken to her thighs. “Believe whatever you want about him, but he won’t betray me.”
“Willing to bet our son’s life on that, Madison?”
Wedging a pistol between her jeans and spine, she met her husband’s gaze. She might not use the human devices, but she’d have them just in case. And with her sigil engraved on them, she could kill demons permanently.
“Where Amos is concerned, anyone could be a threat.” Even Zen. She kept those words bit back. Admitting that likelihood to herself was hard enough, but to pretend he wouldn’t eventually determine her child a danger would amount to denial.
“At the moment, the only three individuals I t
rust with totality are in this room. The rest are off the grid.” Micah was candid as always. But anyone being off-grid freaked Madison out more than a little. She went for the door and he halted her. “We can’t go out there without a plan.”
“Petra and Zen are down.” What other argument did he need to convince him they needed to move, and fast?
“Maybe.”
She ignored him. “Elias is MIA.”
“Definitely down.”
“Maybe.” She shot back and challenged him with a glare. “All I know with one-hundred-percent certainty is that someone has my son and I still have access to the dragons.”
“You can feel them nearby?”
“Yes.”
Micah nodded. Wearing their Scroll, they couldn’t betray her. Madison jabbed him in the chest with a finger. “I won’t waste another second when I can’t reach Amos telepathically, which is a first, Micah.”
His eyes flamed hotter. “If I can’t drag the offender to Hell to torture for a millennium, I’ll tear him to pieces for worrying you and touching our child.”
The bloodlust wasn’t tangible just in his eyes, but in the streamers of agitated magic coming off his aura. Madison touched his arm. “Thank you.”
How weird it was to thank someone for promising to mutilate another. But when it came to her child, rationale had no place in her mind.
“When you ingested my blood the other night, you finished anchoring yourself to Hell.” She hadn’t considered that outcome at the time. She’d just been dying to get full. “You should accept your status as Hell’s Queen immediately.” She shook her head and he talked over her. “Hell is a powerhouse of magic, Madison, and you’ll be able to draw from it, make you stronger. Now’s not the time to be squeamish. This is our son’s life. Your life.”
“We don’t have time to argue—”
Micah interrupted Nix. “You’re right, Phoenix, we don’t. We both want her to live. With so many allies already down, this is her best choice. If we fail her and she—she—”
The oh-so-scary King of Hell snatched her into his arms and crushed her in a hug against a vibrating wall of solid muscle. To know she made him tremble in fear at the thought of losing her…what woman wouldn’t find that appealing?
Succubus and woman both inhaled his scent deep into her lungs. “If we fail, you die with me, Micah.”
“I will paint this world red with revenge,” Nix promised from beside them.
Madison left her husband’s hold. “Don’t, Nix.” With a hand curling on his nape, she pulled him down for a kiss. “Please don’t dishonor me in that way.”
“Don’t end up dead.” Her Sherlock cupped her face between his hands and kissed her. “Make your own decision about being the Queen of Hell. I cannot advise you because I’m not neutral on the outcome.” He peered at the King. “I’m going out the back way to try and get a layout of what’s coming, maybe surprise them. Keep her safe, Micah.”
Her husband must have agreed because Nix relaxed marginally and kissed her again. She watched him walk out the door and got the overwhelming sense she’d never see him again. She’d have told him she loved him, but that felt too much like a goodbye. And it might jinx their outcome.
Madison faced Micah. “How do I claim my seat in Hell?”
“The same way you did the dragons in Hell.” She made a face and he explained. “You feel it here”—he tapped a finger to her heart—“and claim your rank with words. We Kings granted it to you when you were fifteen. It’s been available whenever you accepted your status.”
Staring straight into his eyes, she said, “I am the Queen of Hell.”
Nothing happened. That was all it took to claim her hellish seat? What a letdown! Not that she’d expected fireworks or anything, but something more than nada. Claiming the dragons had been more exciting. “Kind of anticlimactic.”
Despair tagged his features and he released a weary sigh, as if she’d disappointed him somehow. “Demons are at my disposal. You have your dragons. We’ll use them, along with our wit, to make it out of this unharmed.”
Micah’s features went steely as someone bellowed from outside.
“Beliel, you know we’ve come for your whore. We also have your abomination spawned from the loins of your slut.” Madison tensed. “Don’t be cowardly. Come out and face us or we’ll slit the brat’s throat.”
He morphed to angel as Madison fought her motherly instinct to run pell-mell to save Amos. If she lived, she’d find a way to kill every single one of them who touched her son.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Caution tempered Micah’s steps as he and Madison tread across the front porch. Heavenly soldiers stretched as far as he could see on the lawn. Sinister opponents in their massive numbers…strange that Esdras-ranked divinity had been sent to claim his family. These angels were deployed only to destroy, not implement battle. Sodom and Gomorrah had been warned, but had been razed without a single call to arms.
That their enemies weren’t archangels and not built for combat upped their own chances of survival.
Still, with this massive contingent…shit!
It’d be difficult to neutralize them with the aid of Elias and Phoenix, but it was doable. The sheer size of this delegation sent one message from his father…an official declaration of war.
Beyond the perimeter of the Angel Lock, his brother, Zariel, held Amos. A bright yellow claw indented the delicate skin of his son’s neck.
Rage buzzed at the base of his skull, icy-hot, and virulent enough to haze his vision in a sheen of red. How dare they threaten his child! The only consolation was that they remained unconscious of their explosive predicament.
Won’t save Zariel. I’ll make him suffer for touching my child.
Forget war. This attack was personal and would result in the downfall of every brother present. The demise of this many siblings would be on Father’s conscious, not his. He’d reap their souls to the thirteenth level of Hell—reserved for the worst offenders—and persecute them for an eternity.
Magic tingled against his fingertips, mojo he hadn’t wielded in centuries against his own kind, not since Father had left them in peace to build their hellish empire. Amos had drawn the Scepter of Spirits, said Micah would require the weapon, and now the divine armament would grant him the power to harvest the angels.
Not yet. Too soon to release that particular angelic defense. His son’s freedom must come first or he could accidentally be reaped when he used the Scepter.
“Careful, zkihtak.” Micah turned toward the sound of Elias’s voice. His brother stood on the lawn engulfed in Angelfire. True death would own him if he failed to exit the ring before the flames burned out. Any move could place Beliel in a similar situation, one not conducive to defeating their enemy.
“Amos!” Madison rushed past him and went down the stairs.
Micah caught her by the arm on the bottom step. “There could be more of those”—he nodded toward Elias—“set to trap me.”
Follow my lead, he instructed telepathically.
Her scant nod served as her compliance.
“Call forth your demons and Zariel will slit the spawn’s throat.” The angel indicated Amos.
Madison frowned as she twisted her arm out of his grasp. The angel appeared as dangerous as a teenage boy, slight stature, slim build, but icy-hot power abraded Micah’s skin, the evidence of Domiel’s Esdras rank. So why didn’t they just smite them rather than chance a cocky meeting like this, that could go south in a hurry for them? Unless they were confident of their triumph, like they had inside help. If Zennyo Ryuo were—
“Refer to my son as a spawn or abomination one more time, angel….” Madison cautioned in a voice that negated the sweetness of her Southern accent.
“Or you’ll do what?” He tsked at her. “I caution you to tread carefully, or I’ll seek vengeance against the spawn.”
Madison’s eyes went pink and her body tensed beside him. With a brash smile, Domiel sealed his doom;
either Micah or Madison would butcher him. Micah might allow his wife the privilege.
“Beliel, step onto the lawn.”
“Into Angelfire?”
Domiel executed a one-shoulder shrug. Not a direct answer, but it sufficed. A ring of fire would likely erupt in any direction he moved.
Only in his goddamn dreams will I ensnare myself. The Angel Lock bound him with his wife; the Angelfire would hinder his ability to assist his family.
Micah would relish tormenting his brother in Hell, would salsa to his screams, and might even fuck to his agony, if Madison would honor him.
“Fuck you. You’re delusional.”
Domiel tossed a glance in Zariel’s direction. The angel scraped his yellow claw down Amos’s neck, scratching him enough that blood oozed down the boy’s skin. Their son groaned, but thankfully remained unconscious. He would’ve cursed in every language he knew if it would’ve helped. Frustrated, he contemplated options. Too few choices existed. Protecting his wife and son would be impossible if he were trapped in the fire. No matter how they reacted, he wouldn’t step into the ring.
“The lawn, Beliel.”
He bit back his repetitious words, deciding another ‘fuck you’ wouldn’t alter his brother’s position. The glint in Domiel’s dark eyes indicated he’d grown inflexible since Micah’s fall. Maybe his sibling was on the cusp of a Fall, as well. “What have you done to Amos?”
Madison fidgeted, her fingers tapping against her sides in the slightest movement. Surprised by her lack of control, he hoped Domiel overlooked her noticeable agitation.
“Doesn’t matter what I’ve done to the boy. He lives. For the moment. I won’t repeat my request, Beliel. Do you require I injure the child worse to corroborate my gravity?”
He needed no confirmation of Domiel’s sincerity. As a warrior for Father, he had entered every skirmish with gusto and earnestness. These Esdras would be no different. They would commit Father’s bidding with relish. That his parent sent them to remove the threat of his family chafed, but he would defeat them and secure his family’s safety. Otherwise, his pride would be the least of his worries.
Genesis Queen (The Road to Hell Series) Page 21