But… I found myself drifting in memories of Luc. Lost in the solid grasp of his embrace. The echo of his hateful words, tinged with love.
Samuel had left my townhouse at some point in the night. The streetlights illuminated my bedroom. The incubus must have assumed I was asleep, an ordinary human action. I grasped my covers and pulled them over my head. He still thought that I was human. I guess I only had myself to blame.
When I arrived at Morgenstern and Clark the next morning, Robert Parr’s contract lay in the centre of my desk as if to mock me.
In the two centuries that I had brokered souls for Lucifer, he had never rejected a contract before. I could not think of a reason why Robert Parr's soul was the source of such conflict.
I picked up my office phone and called the Milan branch.
Marina answered on the first ring.
“Ciao, Dahlia!” the Sicilian woman chirped happily. The way she spoke my name grated against my every nerve. Da-Rr-Laya
“I need you to send a message to Mr Morgenstern please,” I replied without emotion.
“Mister Luc will find you, if he needs to speak to you, Si?” Marina replied, her tone was blissfully oblivious.
I had wanted to leave a message asking for the details of the Parr contract and why it kept bouncing back onto my desk. My curiosity was piqued even if I should have let it go.
Instead, I became childish.
“Tell Luc not to leave gifts for me anymore. My new mate doesn’t like it.” I snarled.
Denizens of Hell only mated once. I had been Luc’s consort, but never his mate or his equal.
“Mister Luc will not be happy with you, bambolina.” She warned.
“I am not your fucking Doll, Marina.” I slammed the phone down and pushed away from my desk, seething. I took my compact mirror from my handbag and checked my hair, it was only when I reapplied my lipstick that I calmed down.
Luiz leant against the doorframe of my office.
“Was that wise?” he asked, quirking a brow.
“Eavesdropping is a nasty habit,” I replied curtly.
Luiz scoffed and batted his hand flamboyantly as if my accusation was an annoying fly.
“This arrived for you, a few moments ago.” He reached behind his back and pulled out a small white box. The words Bvlgari were printed in golden foil on the lid.
My hands jumped to my throat. Why would Luc give me jewellery?
I took the box with delicate hands and popped it open.
Your answer is Haage.
It was Luc’s handwriting. A small part of my heart squeezed tightly. I did not understand the cryptic message at all. I couldn’t help but feel guilty as I examined the bracelet. It was made up of several circles, all linked. The smallest circle had a snowflake in the centre.
Luc had taken my outburst and provided me with a gift to placate me. I despised my weakness when I clasped the gift around my wrist. At least Luc had given an answer; albeit one that required further examination.
I felt despicable for forcing his hand by telling him about Samuel.
Lucifer abandoned me. I reminded myself. If anyone should feel guilty, it should have been him.
That evening, I made plans to visit a Fold. I chose the Tyburn Tree as it was the most popular spot for daemons to congregate.
I had asked Magnolia to find something fit for a 'BDSM nightclub’, and she did not disappoint.
My skirt was skin tight leather, and my halter was made of a shimmering silver material that was almost invisible under the UV light.
My driver dropped me off just outside of the roadside railings, and I made my way to the ancient metal plaque in the centre of the street. It had gone midnight, so there were almost no sounds around me. I expanded my consciousness until I found the groove the indicated a space between the fabric of worlds, and I slipped inside with ease.
The club was packed with Seventh Circle daemons, writhing against each other. I stepped around each of the couplings as if they were furniture, determined to find some clue about Haage.
Haage, the Wise one, was an elusive Pureblood, famous within circles for his encyclopaedic knowledge of the inner workings of Hell magic. He kept to himself and had not been seen in over a century. Purebloods were solitary creatures; his disappearance that did not say much.
Haage had been attached to the Seventh Circle so I assumed that someone in the PVC wearing crowd would know of him.
I weaved through the room, allowing my consciousness to skim the minds of the dancing daemons around me.
No one had any answers.
I caught a flash of silver across my vision. My ears filled with the nostalgic ringing of bells. I found myself smiling against all my instincts. I followed the smattering of silver energy. It reminded me of Luc.
When I reached the edge of the dance floor, a hand gripped my wrist. I jumped, heart in my chest. When I turned, I was ashamed to admit that a small pang of disappointment lit up my chest. It was Samuel.
His eyes glinted with the ever-changing lights of the dance floor. Dark with lust. He placed his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes and fell into his embrace.
The man that held me smelt of frigid ice and leather. I blinked away my lethargy in time to see a glint of lust shine across his pupils, turning the black dots into shillings.
That wasn’t right. Incubi sported pale ice blue eyes when their Daemon shone through.
Samuel’s lips were calm and decisive as they took my own. My reservations fled when I felt cocooned in the familiarity that was Luc.
He may have been wearing Samuel’s face, but I knew. It was the heady mixture of comfort and arousal that caused me to take his hand and lead him to one of the private rooms. My head swam with questions that I would never be able to answer.
Luc, wearing Samuel’s face, did not say a word as he lifted me up and felt my legs curl around his waist. His tongue traced my bottom lip and then his absence left me cold. I stood alone in the hallway to the private rooms. I was disconnected from Hell so my senses were not as keen as they would have been. My chest heaved with a palpable mix of arousal and shame.
I adjusted my halter top and strode towards the dancefloor. I scanned the writhing masses for more errand thoughts.
Had Samuel rejected me? Or was Luc wearing Samuel’s face?
A hand reached over my shoulder, holding a shot of patron. I recognised the scent of tequila.
I turned around and saw the familiar face of Samuel Rose but minus the distinguished facial scarring.
“Vincent,” I acknowledged, taking the peace offering of alcohol from his cold fingers. I knocked it back with ease.
“Lie detector.” Vincent's face was alight with joy. His eyes were glazed as if he wasn’t truly there.
“My name is Dahlia,” I supplied helpfully. “but you know that.”
“Do I?” he said dreamily.
“What do you want, Vincent Rose?”
Vincent reached forward to touch my face, but his fingers jerked back as if I was made of broken glass.
“Two Roses. One thorn. Bloody and infected...” he mused out loud.
“Where is your brother?” I said impatiently.
Vincent cocked his head to the side. If I weren't fully immersed in the facade of humanity, I would have taken his tongue between two fingers and twisted until the tendons snapped.
“Samuel mentioned that you had a run in with a Leviathan.” Vincent mused thoughtfully.
“We did.” I nodded.
“They travel in swarms, don’t you know?”
“Talking to you is riveting, Vincent. But I must be going.” I said, turning away, I felt Vincent's harsh grip on the top of my arm.
Unable to restrain myself, I snarled. Baring my teeth like a feral animal. I allowed a pulse of First Circle magic to attach itself to Vincent Rose like a dart. Right where his beating heart would have been if he were human.
Vincent looked like all his Christmases had come at once.
“Delicious
ly made of Hell,” he made a kissy face. “Does my brother know what you are?”
“Do you know who is wearing your brother’s body right now?” I retorted.
Vincent’s eyes widened and then narrowed. As soon as I had said it, the pieces slotted together. Luc couldn’t leave Hell for extended periods of time, but he could control others.
I had been so stupid. I clenched my fists to keep from lashing out.
Luc had always told me that I was immature and quick to anger. I would show him the extent of my temper.
Pushing past Vincent with more strength than necessary, I quickly found the spiral iron staircase to the VIP floor.
I marched up the steps, two at a time until I reached the red velvet rope at the top.
One look at the bouncer as all I needed to drop him to the floor. I stepped over his prone form. My facial muscles were schooled into icy indifference as I surveyed the VIP platform like a Queen overlooking her subjects.
I saw him in the corner, surrounded by women. His tongue down a blonde woman’s throat.
I did not expect fidelity from an incubus, but from the way Samuel’s body was relaxed with his legs spread as he laid back on the leather sofa, I could tell that he did not care if I saw him or not.
His eyes met mine, and there was no kindness. No silver sheen, like five pence coins.
How had I been so foolish?
Two Roses. One bloody and infected. Samuel had been infected. How much of my interaction with the man had been Samuel Rose and how much had been Luc?
Was it Luc, ever since the first moment we met?
I released my power in a shockwave. No longer caring about hiding my true nature.
I had forgone my natural barriers in a blind pursuit of finding the mother of Luc’s child.
My connection to Hell roared to life, my body filled with burning Hellfire and I inhaled the sharp tang of the pumping blood of every living being in a mile radius. My eyes glowed silver, the twin to Luc’s.
Samuel pushed the blonde off his lap and stood.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked him. I knew that he could hear me from across the room. I strode towards him, using my natural human repellent to create a path in the crowd.
“Dahlia Clark,” Samuel appraised my form. When his emerald eyes met mine, they flared bright silver, and his entire demeanour shifted. Gone was the languishing casual sprawl, in its place, was the cocky smirk that I knew and loved.
No wonder I had allowed the man access to my body. He was the very person I had craved but tried to run from.
“Luc,” I snarled.
“My Pet,” Luc/Samuel smirked cruelly.
“How does this help find the mother of your child?” I hissed, waving my hand to gesture to the body he had stolen.
“How long have you been disconnected from Hell, my Pet?” Luc asked as uncharacteristic concern layered over his voice.
What else could I expect from my master? The king of lies and deception. He was so good at it that I had almost forgotten the years of tutelage he had given me.
I raised my arms to push him away when a crippling pain washed over my midsection. I glanced down and saw that my legs were bleeding.
No. That wasn’t right. My legs were covered in blood, but I wasn’t injured.
Another wave of pain made my knees buckle. The blood was coming from my...I blinked away red tears. My trembling fingers went to the wetness running down my cheeks. I was crying blood.
I gaped up at Luc, silently pleading. “Master...?” I croaked.
And everything went black.
Part 2
Colour rushed into my vision like a kaleidoscope. The pulsating darkness that was inside of me; the monster that fed on deception, was gone. Instead, my mind was an echoing and cavernous place that I did not recognise. Little more than a simpering human.
I reached out blindly for the threads that made Hell Magic a tangible being. I was unable to connect to anything or anyone.
My eyes blinked open; the mirror that I had defaced recently stared back at me. Along with my original face. I was no longer wearing the beauty of Dahlia Clark. Instead I wore the silver eyes and white hair of 'Pet' the name that I had been known as while living in the Ice Castle of the First Circle.
I pushed myself from the bed but found my wrists were weighed down. I focused on my hands, and I saw that I had been given cuffs of sterling silver. The metallic jewellery was tarnished black at the edges with something sinister. Not just Hell Magic but Luc’s personal blend of power.
I reached for my own powers once more but found them gone. Lost in the ether.
That was the purpose of the cuffs, I deduced. I had only worn them once before, as punishment.
The minutes that led up to my sudden location change rushed through my mind. I reached over and pulled the grey wolf’s fur throw from my body. I surveyed what had been my bloody thighs.
Someone had cleaned me. Who, though, I did not know.
I was dressed plainly in an ivory nightgown. Gown was right. I could have easily have gone to a red-carpet event wearing the Devil’s pyjamas.
I swung my legs over the edge of the four-poster bed with as much decorum as I could muster. My legs wobbled, and the sensation was foreign.
My stomach churned and revolted against the need to escape and the need to find answers.
I ran my fingers through the straight platinum blonde hair that sat on top of my head. When I took a step forward, I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the many mirrors.
I jolted in recognition when I realised that I wasn’t looking at my own body, but instead I was face to face with Lucifer. For the first time in over two centuries.
His white blonde hair matched mine. Straight and waist length. His eyes were metallic silver. Luc was dressed in warrior's garb. Black burnt leather with his falcata iron sword hung from his waist. Low and gleaming. It was a curved Roman weapon the likes of which I had not seen in an age.
Luc liked weapons but only because people focused on them. They would expect him to reach for the sword when he would have no trouble using his mind to render someone incapacitated.
“Why am I in chains, Master?” I queried. I found myself reverting to a submissive tone and mannerisms. I hated that he had the ability to command me, even after all that time.
Luc brushed his shoulder; his facial expression was apathetic.
“It seems that you think you can question my actions. Two hundred and eleven years apart have made you obstinate.”
I smiled coldly and stepped forward. “I was always a thorn in your side, Master.”
“Now you see the reason for your restraints.” His eyes were sharp as flint.
“And the reason for severing my connection to Hell...?” I left the question hanging in the air. When it was apparent that Luc was not going to answer, I snorted in derision. “How beautifully stereotypical of the great Lucifer Morgenstern. Silence. Maybe if you restrain my tongue as well, you'll never have to worry about anyone questioning you again!” My voice hitched to a scream, and my chest panted with exertion. Something flashed behind Luc’s silver penny eyes, but it was quickly replaced with the cold expression he now wore as armour.
“You wanted to know about Haage?” He bit out, every word was a struggle as if he chewed on his own anger.
“Parr’s contract was void.” I crossed my arms over my chest. The silver of my wrist cuffs chilled my skin.
“Sophia Taylor. The woman Parr wanted dead is Haage’s Consort,” Luc said in a disinterested tone.
“The same consort that will open the golden gates of Hell?” I queried wryly.
Luc's lip twitched at the corner as he reigned in his signature Cheshire cat's grin.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “You see so far into the future, Master. Pray tell did your clairvoyance also give you the name of your future mate?”
I had years of practice making my face blank and hiding my heartbreak when I spoke about that prophecy. It was ing
rained in my muscle memory.
Luc rested his elbow on the top of his sword, and eyed me shrewdly. “I’m aware of your visit to Nora Bleu.” He said without inflection.
“Have you already chastised me whilst wearing Samuel’s face?” I hissed.
Luc shook his head and chuckled. “That was the incubus. When he threatened to remove your memories, I must admit, it was the most I have laughed in an age.”
“I’m glad I amuse you, Master.” I responded in a dry tone.
Luc was in front of me before I had seen him move. I was rusty as anything and cut off from my Hell Magic. There was nothing I could do when his lips crashed against mine. His kiss was not affection. It was dominance.
He gripped the hair at the nape of my neck to hold me in place. Our chests touched and I found myself looking to the floor and submitting.
“You remember our punishments together, Pet?” He took my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. The sting was harsh but I craved it.
Luc was a head taller than I was, when he used the fingers trapped in my hair to bring our eyes level, my neck snapped up.
“You hurt the mother of my child,” he whispered.
“Nora Bleu?” Hurt rippled through my voice making my words silent. The love I felt for Luc wrapped around my throat and choked me. Despite all evidence to the contrary, a part of me hoped that the human was not going to be the mother that he wanted to find. I had prayed that Luc would come to his senses, that Luc would finally want me back. One day.
Luc cocked his head to the side.
“I asked you to use the stone when you suspected that you had found her.” He said lightly.
“I didn’t need to. Since you were apparently well acquainted,” bitterness seeped into my tone. “Did you fuck her in your own body or did you use Samuel Rose's?”
Luc broke our eye contact as if I had shocked him. He laced to the door and depressed the handle but did not open it. Luc turned to me once before he left and spoke in a calm and level tone.
The Devil's Advocate Page 9