The Devil's Advocate

by Michaela Haze

  But Luc could snap.

  I was the only person that did not fear his duality. His darkness had broken and remade me. There was no weakness that he could latch onto inside of my mind. Because he was my weakness.

  I was escorted to the throne room on the arm of a guard. When I arrived at the atrium, I gracefully untangled myself and looked to the throne at the edge of the room with pinpoint precision. My heart sunk.

  There were two thrones. My place was subserviently waiting at my master’s feet. I was unsure how I felt about another ruler on the raised platform while I played the dutiful pet.

  My hands were clammy, and I silently cursed my traitorous humanity leaking through. What would happen next? Would I start breathing and beating?

  I shuddered and eyed my silver cuffs in disgust.

  “The Master wishes for you to take your place on the platform,” Layla, my handmaiden’s delicate voice drifted to my ear. Invisible in the crowd of peacocks and sycophants.

  I avoided the server, with his tray of Vinum, and tilted my chin until the message was clear that I did not want to make small talk with the various Purebloods.

  When my stilettos reached the edge of the platform, I hesitated and looked over my shoulder for my Master. I had not seen him since I had entered the room, yet, I caught the flash of silver that told me he was near.

  Lucifer sat on his throne, with his legs spread wide and a full goblet of wine. He was near invisible to everyone in the room, but I knew what to look for. I saw through his power.

  Luc straightened when he saw me and a smile lit up his face in a flash, too quick to disguise his true emotions. He was happy that I had arrived. I took the steps carefully, lifting the flowing ivory material of my dress so that I did not fall.

  I walked to his side and prepared my skirts so that they would not crease when I knelt at his feet.

  Luc gripped the top of my arm and stared at me in annoyance.

  “What?” I hissed.

  “Take the throne.” He gestured to the seat by his side with the tilt of his chin.

  I eyed him warily. “No.”

  Lucifer’s jaw tightened. “Please.” He asked through clenched teeth.

  I stared into his silver eyes for a beat, incredulous. After a long moment, I decided that he was serious and I settled in the throne by his side.

  Every eye in the room was on me, but instead of shrinking back as I would have done when I sat at Luc’s feet, I straightened my spine and met the gaze of my challengers.

  I made a mental note of several of the people that I recognised and their contempt. When my cuffs came off, I was going to string up their intestines like Christmas lights.

  Luc stood up. He wore a tunic that looked like the colour of the sky at midnight, the shimmering threads complimented his eyes. His clothing showed off his muscular physique. Some female guests eyed him as if he was a steak. I bared my teeth at the harpies. I snapped them together and growled. There were three of them, two brunettes and a blonde. Luc opened his mouth to speak before catching my eye, he raised his wineglass and tapped the side.

  A hush fell over the room, almost instantly. Eyes followed his every movement, rapt.

  “My friends! My Pet has come home!” Luc shouted jovially, he raised his glass and gestured for others to do the same. Many of the crowd did as asked, but a few were hesitant. For all they knew, I had been banished. I did not expect warmth in their welcome and I was not surprised when there was none.

  I had never sat by Luc’s side before. Always standing in the background or kneeling at his feet. Luc turned to me, tilting his head for me to join him. A heart-breaking pang shot through my chest, and I gave the Devil a watery smile.

  He was giving me what I had always wanted.

  After the toast, Luc settled next to me and took my hand for all to see. He placed a delicate kiss on the side of my neck, pushing my hair from my shoulder with a fleeting caress. His eyes never left mine, and the intensity was something that I had never dealt with in public before.

  Luc was making a statement, and I had no idea what that statement was.

  Lucifer stood up with a flourish. He held out his hand for me to take. If I could have blushed, I would have done. I slipped my tiny hand into his.

  “I have a surprise for you, Pet,” Luc whispered.

  All notion of the Ice Prison had been forgotten as the string quartet came to the end of their piece.

  Luc and I walked hand in hand to the baby grand piano and the group of musicians. He held out his hand and his Hellhound, Kai, gave the Devil his fiddle.

  My hands flew to my mouth, and I eyed the piano shrewdly. I thought Luc had destroyed it when I had left. He had told me that he would. I knew it was the same piano that I had learnt to play on.

  “What shall we play, Pet?” Luc took my hand and led me up the stairs.

  I fluffed my skirt and sat down at the keys. My fingers hovered over the ivories. My heart was in my throat.

  How many nights had I daydreamed of that moment?

  Beethoven. Winter Sonata. Number 7.

  I thrust myself into the angst of the piece. Luc's fingers gripped his violin and his head nestled against the smooth wood of his instrument. He played as furiously as I remembered, but there was an encroaching melancholy that had never been there before.

  My head bowed over the keys, and my fingers grew faster and faster. I closed my eyes and swayed with the intensity.

  Luc's rendition was perfect. The violin was the star of the piece. As always, I was his accompaniment. I was the cherry on the cake that made the experience better but was not necessary.

  I had been created for the place by his side. I had been moulded for the man next to me. I could honestly say that his flaws enticed me and his madness fuelled mine.

  The piece ended, and the air crackled around us. For a brief second, we were Dahlia and Luc again, and it was divine.

  I sat at my dressing table, carefully taking out my diamond earrings. Luc sat on the edge of my bed; his fingers knotted together in his lap. His mind was far away.

  Standing up, allowing my dress to pool around my feet, I stepped out of the white silk like a snake shedding its skin.

  My bare feet padded against the floor as I walked to my Master. With careful hands, I placed my hands on his cheek.

  “Tell me what you are thinking, Master?” I asked.

  Luc reached out as if I were the sun, but his hand faltered before his fingers could brush my cheek. “Please...Dahlia... call me Luc. Can we not go back to the way things were?” He would not meet my eyes. Fearful of rejection at my hands.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded slowly.

  “I don’t want to put you back in your cell, Luc,” I whispered. His eyes met mine and flared silver.

  “The Seer foretold your death.” His Adam's apple bobbed.

  I reached up and pushed a lock of his white hair behind his ear.

  I leant closer until we both shared the same breath. He smelt like home. I closed my eyes, and in a second I saw everything I had ever wanted, and what the Seer had told me would never last.

  “Yes. She said I am going to die.” I replied, divorcing myself from the words.

  Luc rubbed his face with his hand. Covering his mouth as if he could stop words from tumbling out.

  “The Ice Prison is a place without time. A place without the same laws as Hell and the Human Realities.” His voice was harsh as if it hurt him to admit it.

  Luc never told me about his time in captivity. I sat by his side and took his hand in mine. I cradled his fingers to my chest and rested my head on his shoulders.

  “The ingredients to the Lord’s curse must be significant to your fate in some way,” Luc admitted hoarsely.

  “It’s okay,” I gave a trembling smile, but I did not mean it. “It will be okay.”

  “How can you say that?” Luc forced out every word.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and held in the words that I wanted to spi
t out. The bitter darkness inside of me told me that Luc would not care. I had been away for two centuries, what difference did a month make?

  He could move on. Lucifer could finally find a mate, instead of a consort without the ability to bear his children.

  I wanted every stolen moment until Luc was forced from me. I had been told that I could not have him, but he was my world.

  Luc kissed my forehead.

  “What thoughts are going through your mind?” He said. “Will you ever love me, as you once did?” His fingers tangled in the hair at the base of my neck. I did not answer him as he kissed the edge of my mouth with slow and teasing deliberation. My breath hitched as he drifted to the other side of my mouth.

  Luc’s eyes fluttered closed as he inhaled my scent deeply; his nose touched mine. The Devil licked his bottom lip and I hungered with such ferocity that it burned through my veins like fire.

  “I want you to kiss me,” I replied. I realised that it was the most honest that I had ever been in my life.

  His hands grasped my waist, and my body moved like a doll, waiting for Luc to stop. Waiting for something to end the moment.

  Part of me could not marry the man in my mind with the man that had left me and refused to even look at me for so long.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep and shaking breath.

  His lips claimed mine, and I found myself melting into his embrace. We clasped at each other. Our lust was a war. I gripped the edges of his shirt and tugged the lapels open. His buttons rained down onto the floor like gravel.

  I buried my nose in the crook of his neck, underneath his veil of hair. I gripped his porcelain skin between my blunt teeth, and I bit down hard until the skin on his neck popped like a cherry tomato and the tang of his frozen blood numbed the roof of my mouth.

  Luc gripped my head and wrenched me away from his throat before using my wrist to fling me onto the centre of the bed. I bounced against the grey wolf's fur, completely naked.

  My knees parted in invitation and Luc crawled towards me, a predator stalking his prey. My master pushed my knees apart roughly, and excitement pinched my core. His mouth was on mine; his lips were harsh. I was a meal, and he was ravenous.

  Luc's hand eased over my mound, as he teased me with his smallest finger. He parted my folds, and I jolted when he found my centre. I was wet, shaking and needy.

  My hands roamed over his broad shoulders, taking in every powerful muscle. His scent was heady, and his magic was a heavy static on the air, like the pressure before the storm.

  Luc’s hand pressed down on my stomach, pinning me to the bed.

  His tongue slowly ascended towards my core, causing my skin to tingle and my fists to clench.

  I was his prey, his feast and his prize.

  I was glad that I did not eat for nourishment. I arrived in the dining hall to the sight of a man roasting over a spit. Lucifer and Abaddon stood, hovering, over a large map of Hell. Figurines were dotted in various locations. I recognised the long tail of the King of the Leviathan. He had been recreated in miniature in jade and stood proudly in the centre of the Fourth Circle lake on the map.

  I recognised some of the other First Circle Hellions that were sat around the table, airing various concerns and relaying news about the current workings of Hell.

  Asmodeus lounged with her legs dangling over the armrest of one of the mismatched chairs. She fanned herself as if she was hot, even though the surroundings were made of ice. Her raven caught the light of one of the sconces, making it seem blue.

  I nodded in greeting and walked to my chair. I sat down without ceremony in between Ezekiel and Miriam. Two first circle Purebloods.

  Luc's eyes flickered to where I sat, but he remained bent over the map as he discussed various trivial details with the Hellions around the table.

  The scent of burning flesh, from the man in the spot, tickled my nose.

  In front of me sat a figurine made of marble. Its wings were outstretched and shimmered in gold filigree.

  “Seraphim,” Miriam chimed, plucking the figurine from my fingertips. “the Lord's chosen.”

  Ezekiel smiled sedately and nodded in agreement, but as always he was mute.

  “What’s all this about?” I eyed the table.

  “Politics,” Abe smirked.

  Luc did not look at me as he took a long slug of wine from his goblet.

  “I don’t think I have ever met a Seraphim before.” I tapped my bottom lip. “Although London is full of Angelic dens.”

  Miriam scoffed. “No class, those angels.”

  Asmodeus leant back and crossed her long legs, having watched our exchange at an impassive distance.

  “Brilliant in bed though,” She said saucily. “The Lord chose them for a reason, if you catch my drift.”

  Luc scoffed in disgust but said in response.

  “Abaddon, a word?” Lucifer cocked his head to the side. Abe sat up with ceremony, sighing as if his joints were causing him trouble. Ever the one for dramatics. Both of them left.

  Asmodeus reached forward and fiddled with one of the fluttering souls that always accompanied her. The butterfly darted around her open fingers as she hummed a tune.

  “When the penises are away, the women will play.” Amore mused idly.

  “It has been a long time, Dahlia.” Miriam said, ignoring the Queen of Lust, she put her hand on top of mine. Her expression shone full of her fondness for me.

  Miriam was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Just about five foot tall, with a bald head and wide eyes, she looked frail like a combination of a small child and an elderly woman. Miriam was a particularly skilled Gemini, which were known for their bilocation skills. Gemini excelled at the art of being in more than one place at a time.

  She mined secrets, and was unrivalled when it came to sourcing information.

  “How was your time in the Human Realities?” Amore asked, her attention was on the butterfly in her hand.

  “London is wet and windy.” I said.

  “Just like the Seventh Circle then.” Amore shrugged.

  “And the daemons?” Miriam asked.

  “Plentiful.” I remarked shortly. “It is nice to be home.”

  “I'll bet,” Miriam beamed and reached over for her goblet of wine. Her teeth were stark white against her ebony skin.

  My eyes hovered over the slow roasting sinner in the corner. I watched the beads of perspiration from the heated flesh roll down and drop into the hellfire with a sizzle.

  “From what I have heard, you won't be here for long.” Asmodeus let the butterfly hover before capturing it in her hands. “The Ice Prison is looking likely.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Where did you hear that?”

  “My souls like to gossip,” Amore zeroed in my face. She licked her lips and I found myself clenching my thighs together to guard against the arousal that washed over me.

  “I suggest you get the ingredients to the Lord's curse before our magnificent Satan does.” Amore took a slow sip from her wine and swirled it over her tongue to appreciate the flavour of the Vinum. “After all, us girls have got to look after ourselves.” She laughed.

  With a handful of Lydian coins, my bare feet moved swiftly over the dead grass. The spindly chalk coloured branches swayed with a non-existent wind. I passed the sculpture garden quickly, and did not look around. If I behaved as if I had a purpose, and was confident instead of suspicious, perhaps no one would report my location to Luc.

  I reached the iron railings that divided the First Circle between Pride and Deception. The boundary prevented people from Lacing in and out.

  The river shimmered gold and the water appeared glutinous and unnatural compared to the Thames.

  I walked to the embankment and spared a glance across the water to the mirrored skyscrapers of the first circle. The journey was longer than I expected, and the silk shift dress clung to my back as my body dripped with sweat.

  I stared out at the edge of the water and flung the anc
ient coins into the water without ceremony. I tapped my barefoot against the hardened mud as I waited for the Ferryman.

  It was only a few minutes, but it felt like an age. My heart beat was like hummingbird wings against my ribcage as I waited for my transport to arrive.

  I saw the dark sail appear first, like a shark's fin, in the centre of the stagnant golden water. Slowly and surely, his boat emerged.

  Charon was sopping wet with a face like thunder.

  His sailboat glided towards me and moored itself to the edge without an anchor. The hell magic that drove it parted the water at the front with rolling smoke.

  “Why did you have to summon me using coins?” Charon crossed his arms over his chest. His ginger beard obscured his downturned lips, but his wayfarer specs were decorated with drops of water.

  “I needed a ride,” I shrugged. It was a well-known fact that Charon could not Lace with someone, which was uncommon.

  “The water tastes like arse,” to illustrate his point, he spat over the edge of the sailboat.

  I stepped onto the deck with a light spring in my step.

  “Jade Lake. Fourth Circle.” I settled into the wooden bench at the front of the ship.

  “Hello Charon,” he mimicked the husky treble of my voice. “It’s simply amazing to see you after all this time. Thank you for your services.”

  “I gave you the coins, didn’t I?” I replied, shifting uncomfortably against the wooden seat.

  The ferryman sighed dramatically as the boat drifted away from the edge of the water.

  I eyed the cuffs on my wrists with disdain. If I was connected to hell, then I could just lace to the fourth circle, lickedy-split. My bad mood was mostly due to the slower speed that I was forced to travel.

  When we reached the barrier between Pride and Wrath, the humidity sucked against my skin like an octopus’s tentacle. I shivered against the foreign sensation.