The Devil's Advocate

by Michaela Haze

  “I've tried to make an appointment, Ms. Clark. But you are notoriously difficult to pin down.” Samuel Rose planted himself in my ergonomic office chair. His smile was cold and did not reach his eyes. He trailed his hand seductively against my wooden desk, as if he belonged there.

  It was only when looking at the way the incubus held his body, that I realised that everything about him that I had been attracted to had been Lucifer. The sparkle, the cocky arrogance.

  Samuel Rose was a walking pheromone, but he did not wake my body up. He did not stir my curiosity. He was an angry man. Tenacious. Difficult for the sake of being difficult. I saw all of the small clues in his micro expressions and the way he held his body.

  “Mr. Rose.” I nodded curtly, my lip twisted in distaste at his audacity. He was sitting in my chair.

  “Do you mind?” I cocked my head to the side and stared pointedly at the sex daemon.

  Samuel eased himself from the chair slowly and swaggered around my desk until he stood directly in front of me.

  “Is that mine?” Samuel licked his lips and his eyes flicked to my belly. “I must say, pregnancy looks good on you.”

  I quirked a brow. “Why are you here?”

  “I came to see the reason why my body was used as a puppet.” He caressed the side of my face but I slapped his hand away.

  The threat was clear.

  I was virtually human, and heavily pregnant. If Samuel Rose chose to hurt me, it would not end well for me.

  His eyes flared pale ice blue as the hell magic inside of him responded to his emotions. Samuel stretched his fingers out and surveyed his hand as if he had all the time in the world.

  With an unsaid threat left on the air, the incubus was strolled from the room as if he had all the time in the world. When he reached my side, Samuel leant in and inhaled my scent deeply, like a predator.

  I kept my back straight and my eyes forward. I would not show fear. Instead, I bared my teeth and snapped them.

  The sound of Samuel Rose's laugh as he sauntered away told me that he did not find me threatening in the least.

  Despite my many years of existence, I had never cooked a meal before and I had no immediate plans to become a chef. Luiz had taken it upon himself to ensure that I was well fed, busying himself in my kitchen.

  He grabbed a bottle of white wine and lifted it to the frying pan. I held out my hand to stop him.

  “I can’t have alcohol.” I explained.

  Luiz smothered a laugh. “The flame burns the alcohol.”

  “Even so—”

  Luiz begrudgingly went to my fridge, which was an aesthetic purchase when I had purchased the apartment. He had brought over ingredients, pulling out vegetables to make sauce. I waited with interest.

  Luiz began chopping onions. After a few moments, he started to cry.

  “Why are you leaking?” I stood by his side and ran a finger down his cheek to collect the tear. I popped it into my mouth. Salty.

  “Onions make me cry,” he sniffed.

  I furrowed my brow. “Is that some kind of medical condition? I was unaware that Hounds suffered from such ailments?”

  A laugh from behind the kitchen island made me jump.

  Lucifer had arrived. His eyes shone silver as he stared at the hellhound by my side. Did I detect a hint of jealousy?

  “Have there been any incidents?” Lucifer asked.

  “Samuel Rose came to the office, but he made a threat and then left.” I shrugged, picking a sizzling piece of meat from the pan. I popped it into my mouth.

  Luiz tutted and waved me away from the frying pan.

  Luc sauntered over to where I stood and took both of my hands in his own. He studied my face as if he was searching for a hidden message.

  “He did not say anything to upset you, did he?” Luc rubbed his thumb against the inside of my palm.

  I snorted a laugh. “No, I am not that fragile.”

  The hound bowed towards Luc, his curly black hair fluttered into his eyes and he blew it away with a puff.

  “You may take your leave. Meesha is guarding the perimeter.” Lucifer said stiffly.

  Luiz turned off the hob and wiped his hands on his robe. “I’ll just... Get out of your hair.” Luiz couldn’t leave fast enough.

  Plating the food that Luiz had prepared, I settled at the kitchen island as I watch Lucifer peruse my human space.

  He trailed his finger along the sideboard to collect dusk. He would not find any. I had a very thorough cleaner.

  “Would you like to discuss Samuel Rose?” Luc sounded disinterested as if that was the last possible thing that he wanted to do.

  With my mouth full of pasta, I debated it and nodded.

  “What do you wish to know?” He sighed, taking a seat on the other end of the kitchen island.

  I swallowed my mouthful and took a deep sip of water. “How much was him, and how much was you?”

  Lucifer smiled to himself. “I was around much more of it than you realise.”

  “Watching me?”

  “Picking you up in bars,” Luc smiled slowly and seductively. It caused a ripple of warmth to spread from my chest and it made my lips tingle with the need to be kissed.

  “How did it feel to touch my body whilst wearing someone else?” I replied, huskily.

  Lucifer licked his bottom lip. “An incubus had innate advantages,” Lucifer drawled. “But I prefer our true forms.”

  I cocked my head to the side and nodded in agreement.

  Luc stood up and walked slowly to my side. I pushed my plate away and gripped my chin with his fingers. My lips puckered against my will and I was forced to stare directly into his eyes.

  There was no escape from my master's scrutinizing gaze.

  “You called him your mate.” Luc said with inflexion.

  “And yet, everything that attracted me to him was because of you.”

  “Is that so?” Luc ran his thumb along my bottom lip. My tongue darted out to greet it.

  “Would you like to experience my attraction to you?” I asked.

  Luc smiled in response and I rose to a standing position. I put my hand on his chest and pushed him towards the living room. I put enough force behind it to lead him, but as disconnected as I was I could not have hurt him even if I tried.

  When the back of Luc's knees hit my velvet sofa, he sank down into the plush furnishings. His legs were spread wide in a dominating manner. I gripped his thighs and knelt before him, easing his fly open with practiced ease.

  “Do you know how much I worship you, Lucifer?” I whispered, reaching forward I attached my mouth to his cock and used my tongue to trace the define vein that ran up the centre.

  His answer to my question was a low groan of pleasure.

  My dinner was forgotten as I found something more interesting to do with my mouth.

  Heavenly establishments had never interested me; I had never ventured inside of one. They radiated the stench of happiness and stagnant joy. London was a Daemon infested city, but there were still small places that you could reach one of the Lord's Chosen. If you knew where to look.

  Exulted. The name gave the impression of a prestigious nightclub. Instead, it was a hole in the wall that could have been mistaken for a crack den.

  Luc had gone back to Hell, and it would be several hours before he came back. I had decided to make myself useful.

  I stepped over the threshold with caution as if I would catch fire. I looked around the bare floor boards. White paint was splattered across the stairs and a lonely dank mattress was pressed against the wall. The name of the establishment was spray painted in black on the front door. The dead bolt was broken so it was not possible to close it properly.

  I brushed off my business skirt and fitted maternity blouse, as if I could catch a disease from proximity alone. Someone stood at the end of the corridor, leaning against the door frame. It was a bronze haired male. Bare chest with glittering white scars that swirled to form Enochian battle symbols.
/>   “The Queen of the First Circle,” the man said, as he surveyed me with mild curiosity. He crossed his arms over his broad torso.

  “I would reply in kind, but I have no idea who you are,” I cocked my head to the side and watched him.

  A hacking laugh caught my attention in the next room and I zeroed in on an angel, with mottled grey wings spread on the floor; he appeared catatonically drunk.

  A woman slowly rocked back and forth in the corner. Human.

  “That’s Daniel. He can pull sadness from a subject and turn it into joy.” The stranger cocked a brow.

  “He doesn’t look like he is sharing.” I said pointedly as Daniel rolled on the floor, laughing hysterically.

  The stranger rolled his eyes. “What do you want?” he asked.

  I studied him for a moment. “I need a Seraphim feather.”

  Whatever the scarred stranger expected me to say, that was not it. His golden eyes widened and he did not blink. His brow furrowed as the cogs in his mind got to work.

  “You should not attempt angelic magic.” The Stranger snarled.

  I eyed him shrewdly. “I need the key to the ice prison.”

  His shoulders tightened and the stranger pulled himself to his full height. “You don’t say.” He mused.

  “Listen...”

  “Uriah.” He supplied helpfully.

  “Listen Uriah, I will trade for the feather. Just tell me what you want.” I tapped my foot impatiently and eyed the rundown walls with distaste.

  The sounds of the woman’s sobbing gradually drowned out as the Angel in the other room took her feelings from her.

  “I know all about your deals, Ms. Clark. I have no interest in that.” I swear Uriah grew ten times in size as a dark shadow crossed over his expression.

  Great. I'd offended the angel.

  “What’s your Choir? Third Tier? Second?” I asked in an exasperated fashion. “I can give you Leviathan Saliva. Devil's Silver. Sand from the Desert of Wrath. All fine ingredients for Angelic Magic.”

  The Angel raised one brow; he had expected me to barter. I curled my bottom lip and stared down my nose at him. After a few seconds, I shrugged and turned away. I took one step before the angel cleared his throat. Our stand-off was silent. I reached into my pocket and produced a few Lydian coins that I had had knocking about.

  His eyes widened. “Coins for the Ferryman?”

  I smirked and used my knuckles to move the ancient coins from one finger to the next with the skill of a practiced magician.

  “Any soul that you want from Purgatory.” I said in a wistful tone.

  “Anyone?” Uri asked hesitantly. I had his attention.

  I nodded and flicked a coin towards him. He caught it with two hands as if he was afraid that he would drop it.

  His golden eyes surveyed the coin as the angel raised it to his lips and bit down the corner to test its authenticity.

  “We have a deal.” The angel slipped the coin in his pocket.

  I nodded smugly. “When will I have my feather?” I asked.

  Uriah's wings materialised from the space between worlds in a burst of light that caused me to flinch. His wings were the same pure yellow gold as his eyes. Unlike the grey, pigeon angel in the other room.

  “Now,” Uriah plucked one feather from his plumage and did not flinch even though I knew it had to have hurt.

  I kept my expression cold and emotionless. I had made a deal with a Seraphim. One of the First Tier of Angels.

  The Lord's personal favourites.

  By the way that my bump was expanding, it was clear that my pregnancy would not be nine months long.

  It was the eve before the Summer Solstice. The celebrations were to be hosted within the First Circle. Pyres made of stripped trees over ten feet tall were placed strategically around the sculpture garden. The party was to be held at the courtyard.

  Although Litha, more commonly known as the longest day of the year in the Human Realities, had been a Fae tradition, Luc loved a party. He fed on interaction with others.

  Each Hell Sovereign held their own celebrations, but no one celebrated like Lucifer did.

  I was dressed in an emerald gown with a golden choker. It clashed against my cuffs but I did not care. My hair was braided and arranged artfully on the top of my head. I wore flat shoes, but only because of my fear of tripping due to my recently changed centre of gravity.

  Layla, my handmaiden, had placed a diadem on my head. It was a tasteful affair. Sterling silver, with blackened edges that implied that it was somehow enchanted. With what, I could not say. The centre of the piece held a perfectly oval Treachery stone that glinted in the light, obsidian with thousands of flecks of starlight in the darkness.

  I heard the thumping sound of the drums. The carnal music began to sift through the castle and told me that festivities had begun.

  Smiling to myself, I recalled the last time I had stood in front of my gilded mirror and waited for Luc to lead me down to greet out guests.

  Many festivals had resulted in the same actions. In the past, we had drunk a casket of Vinum between us and fucked like dogs in heat bathed in the crackling warmth of the bonfires.

  Luc knocked on the door and let himself in quietly. He leant back against the closed door and surveyed me slowly. His eyes raked from the tips of my toes to the crown on my head. His gaze was dark, and although his posture was languid, I knew that he approved of my outfit.

  Stepped forward, Luc sauntered behind me so that we both faced the mirror. He placed his head on my shoulder and pushed a stray tendril of hair out of the way as he placed a delicate kiss on my shoulder blade.

  I shuddered into his touch.

  “My Queen.” Luc punctuated his words with kisses. “My Consort.” His hands dipped under they cupped my hips. I felt his skin as if he electrocuted me through the thin and flowing satin.

  “...My Mate...”

  My eyes welled up and I held back my gasp. I wanted to ask if he was certain. If he was ready to share his soul with mine. To connect us and to corrupt each other.

  “When I remove these cuffs, I plan to claim you. Mark you. Never again will you question my love and loyalty to you.” Luc promised. His eyes closed as he kissed my cheek. I stayed still as I watched his assault in the mirror. My legs quivered, but I smiled sanguinely.

  “The party awaits my King.” I chided, turning around. I placed a chaste kiss on his closed lips.

  His smile was crooked and his silver eyes sparkled.

  “I think you'll love the surprise I have for you.” Luc whispered.

  When we left the room, and walked down the steps to the entry hall of the castle, we were greeted by the wide-open doors of the castles and a crowd of guests that spilled throughout the grounds.

  I was not inclined to drink, as I did not want anything to endanger my child. Luc stayed by my side and refused all inebriation when offered as a show of solidarity.

  The Devil stole touches constantly. His hand on my back. A gentle and possessive rub of my belly. A finger on my chin as he placed a kiss on my lips.

  Abaddon reached the throne platform and bowed lowly. I could not help but laugh. Formalities.

  “My King.” Abe smiled sweetly. “Consort.” He nodded in my direction.

  The room was full of various Purebloods, mingling. I saw Charon in the crowd, awkwardly bobbing his head to the primal thud of the drum beat. He adjusted his thick rimmed glasses and I noted the absence of his birds.

  I stood up, manoeuvring myself around my extra weight before Abaddon held my elbow and eased me to my feet with a gentle smile.

  “I want to speak to the Ferryman.” I told Luc as I rubbed his hand. “See you shortly.”

  Luc nodded as an Imp, one of the Pureblooded demons that resided in the first circle. He bowed in front of his throne to pay him fealty.

  The crowd parted for me, and I noticed that many of the faces turned away from me. I did not know why but I kept my head high. I had no reason to be embarr
assed, even if I wore my disconnection from Hell like a glowing signpost.

  “Enjoying yourself?” I asked Charon as I came up to his side.

  The Ferryman’s smile was always a strange thing. Curiously smug with pretence.

  “I remember not a few months ago, when we spoke of that damned prophecy.” He took a sip of his wine, eying me over the rim. “It seems that you got what you wanted.”

  I nodded, and could not help the coy smile that graced my lips.

  “I am happy for you. Truly.” Charon enthused, never breaking eye contact.

  “Thank you, old friend.”

  I eyed his checked tweed suit with interest. I had not seen one like that in the Human Realities in an age. It was a marvel how fashion came full circle.

  My eyes zeroed in on the writhing bulge in his pocket. I narrowed my eyes.

  Charon smiled sadly when he followed my gaze.

  Reaching inside of his pocket, he pulled out a raven. As soon as his fingers clasped the bird with a tender grip, the creature stopped wiggling. It’s black beady eyes stared into mine. Unwavering.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I asked with uncertainty.

  Charon stroked the bird, the winged creature had his undivided attention. “This is my most precious soul.”

  The bird clicked its beak in agreement.

  “The last ingredient,” I whispered reverently.

  Charon grasped the bird as if he planned to snap its neck, but with a deft twist of his fingers and the spark of Hellfire, it became a smooth black pebble.

  Charon handed it to me without pause. “A gift.”

  “I know what this means to you.” I eyed the pebble as if it was a priceless gemstone. “I know that this is Cecile’s soul.” Cecile had been Charon’s sister.

  Charon shifted uncomfortable and twirled the end of his short ginger beard.

  “The Flower of Envy has very little purpose, save for opening the gateway to the Ice Prison. I knew the second one of coins passed into Angelic hands. There was only one explanation.” Charon shrugged. “I know that you are not stupid enough to try and trap Luc.”

  “Maybe I am,” I crooked my brow in defiance.