The Devil's Advocate

by Michaela Haze

  Luiz did not stop pacing, “Charon told me you’d be here. He gave me a lift.” Luiz waved his hand as if it wasn’t important.

  “Go on then!” he demanded impatiently. “Read the note.”

  I smoothed the paper but did not look at it. “How’s the office fairing without me?” I asked.

  Luiz eyed the note that I so adeptly ignored. “The insurance brokers and the tax agents have gone to war over the coffee machine.”

  “They both have one,” I pointed out.

  “Insurance has somehow broken theirs,” Luiz rolled his eyes. “Is life so boring in the First Circle that the coffee machine wars of Morgenstern and Clark are newsworthy?”

  I tugged my hair over one shoulder. “I haven’t been let out of my room much.”

  “What did you do?” Luiz asked suspiciously.

  I quirked a brow. “Nothing to warrant these, surely?” I flicked out my wrists to show off the Sterling cuffs.

  “Ouch,” Luiz flinched.

  “Any news about Nora Bleu? The Rose family?” I queried, picking up the paper once more.

  “That’s why I came,” Luiz looked everywhere but into my eyes.

  I surveyed the bright pink paper and found it to be printed out medical file. Nora Hiscock, nee Bleu in all her glory.

  “Allergic to Pine nuts?” I said. “Riveting.”

  Luiz leant over and jabbed the paper harshly.

  “Ectopic pregnancy, resulting in infertility?” I lowered the records, the numbness had started to creep from my fingers, over my lips and everything sounded far away.

  “She can’t have children?” I whispered. I had virtually disabled a woman for the rest of her life, if she ever woke up. I had gotten the wrong person.

  I put my head in my hands and rubbed my eyes. I felt them burn behind my eyelids. Putting my fingers through my hair, I tugged until I felt a burn across my scalp. I had been so rash. So foolish.

  Lucifer had always been my weakness. I had been blind to everything else in my pursuit of that man.

  Luiz reached into his other pocket and produced another piece of paper. When he went to hand it to me, I shook my head frantically. I couldn’t bear to look at it.

  “What is it?” I croaked.

  “It’s the visitor’s log for Nora Bleu from five years ago,” Luiz said ominously. “Luc went to visit her. He knows that she is unable to have children.”

  My lack of magic meant that I could not open my own bedroom door. I had Luiz do it for me before he shimmied out of the window and back across the great plains of Hell.

  I wrung my hands, torn between rage and sorrow.

  Part of me had longed to be back in the icy confines of the First Circle. The pale silver of Luc’s eyes had always been my home. His touch was always the place I came back to when I allowed my mind to drift.

  Lucifer was all that I had ever wanted, and I had obsessed over. Now that I was back in the First Circle, I had to question if I ever had the man at all.

  I walked the halls and admired the same portraits which I’d run by as a child.

  No one made eye contact with me. I wondered if it was because I still held the reputation as Luc’s Ice Cold Pet; or, if it was simply because my energy signature was foreign due to the cuffs as I explored the castle and got in their way.

  No one would be able to tell behind the façade of steel was a person that cared what others thought. My armour was designer gowns and a beautiful face, hidden behind a powerful man.

  I had learnt that I was strong in my own right and to use the misconceptions of my enemies against them.

  Perhaps that was why Luc had taken my connection to Hell as punishment. To remind me of my place. Or what he thought my place should have been.

  Luc’s current scribe, Pascal, was housed in the east tower. Although his chambers were dangerously close to Lucifer’s, I chose to risk it. I needed information, and the only person that would have it was the Hellion tasked with recording the Devil’s inner most thoughts.

  Without the ability to Lace, I forgot how large the castle was. Even when I thought back to the painful memories of being made to crawl on my hands and knees across the frozen floor, it appeared that my mind had blocked out the distance and the blackened fingertips that came before the frostbite healed.

  I knocked on the iron door to the Scribe’s chamber and waited for his ominous greeting. The old man always knew that it was me, although most Purebloods could recognise energy signatures. Pascal’s gaze was made to intimidate. He did nothing to encourage the farce of comfort.

  “I live in water, but I never get wet. What am I?” Pascal called through the thick material of the Magic-rebelling door. I rolled my eyes and flicked through my mental catalogue of information. If I had heard the riddle before, I would have remembered the answer. I hadn’t. It took a minute of pondering before I was confident in my reply.

  “A reflection,” I answered with certainty.

  The door swung open of its own accord with a clank. The Pureblood inside of the dark room did not look up from the tome on the desk in front of him. Pascal’s eyes were almost entirely white, which was disconcerting. I was sure that he still had his sight. His hair framed his face in ropy tendrils as if it had never been washed. It probably hadn’t. The Scribe only cared for the pursuit and distribution of knowledge. He held no interest in much else.

  I walked in, picking up the ostentatious petticoat that I had chosen to wear so that I would not trip. I stepped over the pile of books in front of the door and walked into the gloom.

  The door slammed shut behind me, but I did not startle. Pascal had absolute control over his domain, and when he moved objects with his mind he was not subtle.

  “I had a feeling that I would see you here, child.” Pascal did not look up from his book and lifted a finger to skim a line of text that interested him. He nodded to himself.

  “Of course I would come to see my favourite person,” I said in a dry tone, eying the organised chaos around us.

  “Everyone knows that your favourite person is that fallen angel of yours. Hell knows why.” Pascal grunted. “I wouldn’t have noticed that you had gone to the Human Realities if our Master hadn’t walked around like a bear with a sore head for the past… however long it’s been.”

  I snickered. “A bear with a sore head? Perhaps that was due to the hangover he suffered from all the celebrations held in honour of my absence.”

  “You know nothing, child.” Pascal mused softly but did not take his eyes from the page.

  I wrung my hands. I had to remind myself that I was powerless and, whilst Pascal looked old enough that a strong wind would reduce him to dust, he was connected to the fabric of Hell. He could have broken every one of my bones if he willed it.

  Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to walk into the domain of a half mad scholar. I scoffed to myself. I had been invincible for so long that I was having trouble adapting to my disconnection from Hell.

  “Our Master knows more of the future than he lets on,” Pascal said cryptically. “The signs were all there.”

  I nodded in agreement despite the fact I could not place the context of the words. I said nothing as I waited for the Scribe to divulge more information. He did not disappoint.

  “Perhaps the answer you seek is inside of the Harem?” He suggested in a light tone as he turned the page. The old Hellion had the uncanny ability to make me feel like a small child on Luc’s curtails. Many Purebloods spawned because of Hell’s need for them. As far as I knew, I was the only one that had been sculpted and grown like a flower under the watchful eyes of my master.

  “To the Harem it is,” I nodded in agreement. The old codger knew that I hated the harem more than anywhere else. If he thought to dare me to walk into the depths of my greatest fears, or if he thought that I would back away from the challenge—then he was wrong.

  I walked back to my chambers in deep thought. Luc had long since banned my presence from the Harem. I was aware of it as a child, but I h
ad only seen it once. Luc had separated that part of the castle from the home that I knew.

  I had to bide my time and find a way around Luc’s magic.

  Even though I disliked the Scribe, there was a method in his madness. I would find the answers I needed at the Harem, even if they weren’t the answers that I wanted.

  There was a certain power in secrets. Holding the knowledge of what someone kept closest to their heart was currency in the First Circle.

  Having been in the human realities for too long, many of my instincts demanded action. The little voice in my head urged me to swagger up to Luc’s chamber and slam the offending evidence of Nora Bleu's infertility on his desk with a smirk.

  I did none of those things. I stayed in my chamber, confined to the room where Luc and I used to spend hours tasting each other’s bodies and speaking about everything and nothing at all.

  I leant back and stared at my own reflection in the mirror above the bed.

  Miss me? My scrawled message on the glass marred the reflection of the face I was created with.

  Lucifer knew that Nora Bleu was incapable of having children. That meant that he was deceiving me. Contrary to belief, Luc did not often lie to me. It was an unspoken rule between us.

  Had so much changed in the last centuries without my knowledge?

  There was a soft knock on my door; whoever it was let themselves in without my blessing. I felt the ripple of the Devil’s energy pull through me, as if I was a planet and he was my sun. I did not sit up, as I would have done in the past but I tilted my head to survey Luc without a word.

  Physically he had not changed. He was sculpted from ice. Facial features that were hard enough to cut glass with eyes the colour of flint. Lucifer was so beautiful that it made you want to sob. He was the embodiment of contradictions. A naughty smirk with hard eyes. When I met his gaze, his expression softened minutely as he saw me. It always did.

  Sometimes I wondered how well I knew him at all.

  “The guards say that you are sulking,” Luc's lips twitched around his signature grin.

  “Reflecting, master,” I said weakly, ever the dutiful slave.

  “They say that you won’t leave your room,” His brow furrowed.

  “The door is locked.” I frowned right back at him.

  “I’ll make sure that the enchantments are lifted,” he bowed his head to the side. “I did not think, considering that you can’t ...” he gestured to the cuffs on my wrists.

  “Thank you, Master,” my tone was hollow.

  “I can have some more dresses delivered. Perhaps some of those high shoes you like?” Luc offered. “Say the word, and whatever you desire is yours.”

  “You always did try and buy my affections when you were unsure of yourself.”

  Luc shifted his body across the room in the blink of an eye. He manoeuvred himself between my legs. Our chests met, and every inch of skin that connected set me on fire. Luc was careful to not put all his weight as he changed position until his hand was free to cup my face tenderly.

  “I wish that you would look at me.” Luc's eyes were a nebula of ice, they pulled me in and did not let go.

  I fought against the tumultuous lust and the harsh betrayal that the man I loved had dealt me. I was as still as a corpse, unable to decide my next course of action. Luc saw my hesitation and I watched the heartbreak shoot across his features before he could mask it.

  “What can I do?” Lucifer's hand still cupped my face.

  I rolled my head away so that I did not have to look in his eyes. I found a spot on the wall, and I stared at it.

  I was not ready to forgive. He had pushed me away again and again. There was only so much that I could take until I broke.

  “Why did you force me away?” I whispered. “Why did you cut me? Beat me? Train me to kill without mercy, if I was only ever going to be your servant?”

  Luc sighed, and a surge of anger overwhelmed me so completely that it took me by surprise. I raised my hands and pushed him away with all the strength that my disconnected body could muster.

  “Why?” I cried, the shrill plea bordered on a scream. “Why must you continue to test me? When all I want is to be yours and stand by your side?”

  Luc's gaze was so intense that I should have shied away from it but I could not. I pushed myself from the bed and marched forward until our chests touched. I reached up to push him away again, ashamed to say that I liked the power I held over him. That even when I was as weak as a lamb, the man in front of me would still yield. He grabbed my wrists gently and cradled me. His chin rested on the crown of my head. I struggled to free myself, but he calmly stroked my hair, as if I were a feral animal.

  “You needed to be strong. You needed to be fierce. My Consort had to be able to stand by my side through all adversity and not be questioned about her right to be there.” Luc said fervently. “You have been my shadow, ever since your inception. I needed to prepare you for what would happen if you were ever to fall into the hands of someone that wished you harm.”

  “And I took your punishments!” I shouted, but my voice ended on a sob. “I begged for your torture because it was the only way to be close to you.”

  “If I showed favour before you were strong enough…”

  “I was created to be strong enough!” I snarled. “You made me!”

  “You were a child, Pet.” Luc placed his hand over his mouth. His voice was a whisper. “You were new. Pure. I created a consort but I did not create you. You were sculpted by our lessons. Our love.”

  “Even when I was strong enough. When I had stood by your side, unchallenged, for eons. You still sent me away.” I stared straight ahead, unseeing as I recalled the words that he had said to me before I had been pushed through the doors of the Human Realities and left to fend for myself. Naked and alone.

  “You are no longer needed, Dahlia.” I quoted back at him. “The only time that you called me that name. I had begged for a name, Luc. It was the cruellest parting gift that you could have given me.”

  Luc straightened his body and squared his chest, his chiselled jaw was clenched. “I only did what needed to be done.” He said, stiffly, without room for argument.

  I dropped to my knees in a mockery of a subservient pose. I shuffled forward in an ungainly manner, walking on all fours. When I reached my master quickly, I grabbed the hem of his trousers. Fevered and mad. Half serious and half sarcastic, I pleaded with him.

  “Was I not a good enough slave for you?”

  Luc stepped back and stared at me in distaste. “Get. Up.”

  I reached forward and clasped the material of his trouser leg. “You didn’t mind for the first millennia, Master.”

  “Get. Up.” He repeated. “I don’t want to see you bow to anyone ever again.”

  I slouched back until my bum rested against the frigid stained floor. “But you always loved me on my hands and knees.” I bit out.

  Luc reached out and grabbed the material at the front of my bodice. Using a delicate but firm grip, he wrenched me into a standing position. I swayed on my feet, as if I was drunk. Hormones whirled inside of my body. Feelings that I did not understand convalesced and created a cocktail of vitriol and snark.

  “I know about Nora.” I whispered; refusing to meet the Devil’s eyes.

  Luc gripped my chin and pulled my gaze to his. His silver irises glowed with challenge. His expression teetered between daring me to continue and wishing to silence me forever.

  “I know she can’t have children.” I said.

  Luc’s grip tightened and I felt the sting of bruises that would never manifest. I did not allow the pain to deter me. I continued with what I needed to say. I had always been too scared before. I didn’t know if it was bravado or adrenaline that powered me. It could have been foolishness.

  “You lied to me.” I accused, but my voice was empty of emotion.

  Lucifer barked a harsh laugh; his plush lips thinned when his expression sobered. “I am the Deceiver.” />
  “…but you never lied to me.”

  I was broken at his tone. He spoke to me as if I was a child. A foolish and stupid child.

  “I could always sense if you were lying or not. How could you deceive me?” I asked.

  Luc clasped the top of my arms and held me still. I still refused to meet his gaze, worried that it would affect my tirade. The only person in the world that I feared and loved just as fiercely.

  “I refused to make you my Mate for this very reason.” He snarled. “I have done what is necessary.”

  I sobbed without tears. My lips quivered and I raised my fists to beat his chest and push my Master from me. Luc gripped my wrists and held me still.

  “You must stay safe. You must stay hidden. You must remain by my side.” Lucifer bit out as if the words were acid on his tongue.

  “You don’t want me, but no one else can have me?”

  Luc let go of me, his release was so sudden that I stumbled. The body that he had restrained me inside of was weak. I had no way to fight him and no way to escape despite my growing need to run as far as possible.

  Luc straightened his posture and brushed an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder. With stiff steps and without looking back, he left the room.

  I forced all my emotions down until they died like flickering embers. I would not make the mistake of revealing my weaknesses and emotions to Lucifer anymore. All it did was led to more pain.

  Pascal’s words echoed in my mind over the coming days.

  ‘Perhaps the answer you seek is in the Harem?”

  Abaddon had become my shadow, making it harder and harder for me to steal away and explore the castle. I had too many questions swirling inside of my mind, and the First Circle was as infuriating as ever.

  The issue with people that spoke in vague terms and riddles was that when offered an answer, they never told you what the question was.

  Why did Luc leave me?

  Who is the mother of the Devil’s children?

  What does the rest of the prophecy say?

  Abe was impossible to trick, considering that he knew the castle better than I did.