Demons Prefer Blondes

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Demons Prefer Blondes Page 31

by Sidney Ayers

Belial snarled then allowed his lips to curve into a creepy smile. “You know, at first your sarcastic wit grated on my nerves. Now it’s growing on me.” He ran his fingers down her back to trace along the curve of her ass. “Yes, you’ll make a fine wife. Just a little molding, that’s all.”

  “The only thing that will need molding is your face after Rafe rearranges it.”

  With a naysaying shake of his head, Belial clucked his tongue. “But he isn’t here yet, is he? Speaking of Rafe, it’s time for you to meet someone.”

  Meet someone? What had he done? Who else was left to meet? Her heart plummeted. Coby. His sister. Leave it to the wannabe prince of darkness to hold the ace in his hand. “If you’ve harmed Rafe’s sister, I swear I’ll personally kick your ass.”

  “Rafael’s sister?” Belial’s incredulous tone rankled her nerves. His sardonic chuckle drove her further over the edge. “I merely want you to meet my priestess. The one who will officiate our little ceremony.”

  “Fuck your priestess.”

  “Already have… many times.” Belial smirked. “A fine lay, but I’m sure my little succubus bride will be better.”

  Her stomach roiled at the thought of Belial and his naked cinnamon and sulfur-scented body anywhere near her. Shivers of revulsion coursed through her body. “I just threw up in my mouth.”

  “Very funny. Now move,” he said with a not-so-gentle push inside the chapel door.

  Tall, dripping candles lined the walls, casting pale shadows throughout the chapel. At the front of the chapel stood the priestess, cloaked in billowing dark capes. She stood there in stark silence, darkness shrouding her face. The air thickened with a heaviness she couldn’t distinguish. A hard lump filled her throat and her heart constricted. Remorse.

  “Priestess, show yourself to my bride-to-be.”

  With a slow, submissive nod, she stepped away from the podium and made her way toward her. With the agility of a cat, she weaved through the array of metal folding chairs that were scattered about. And here she was expecting something more demonic.

  “I am the priestess.” Her voice, although beautiful, held no life. Like a robot. “I shall perform your wedding rituals.”

  “She doesn’t seem too thrilled, sweetie.” More waves of revulsion rolled through her. Had she actually said sweetie? She bit her tongue. There was only one man she wanted to call sweetie.

  “She’s thrilled, aren’t you dear?”

  The priestess nodded. “Indeed, I am.”

  “See?” Belial grinned. “Now let’s head back outside. It’s time for us to marry.”

  “We aren’t marrying in here?”

  “No. This silly chapel has been blessed. The people of Hell are more religious than I realized.”

  “Sucks to be you, doesn’t it?”

  “On the contrary, my dear. I believe it sucks to be Rafe.” With that, he gave her a violent shove out of the chapel.

  What was this fixation with Rafe? Belial was a prince of Hell, and Rafe was a mere centurion in the Paladin forces. She could easily pawn it off on jealousy, but something deep inside kept nagging her. Yes, it was Rafe’s mission to recover the chest, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more.

  “Definitely won’t be getting any husband-of-the-year awards,” she said, catching her balance on the doorjamb. “And what’s with your obsession with Rafael Deleon? You can’t stop talking about him. Are you sure you don’t want a bro-mance instead?”

  Belial’s eyes sparked like two demonic ambers, hot and angry. He reached out, wrapped his fingers around her neck, and yanked her to him, sucking the breath from her body. “I’ve never met the man. But as soon as his slow vehicle arrives, we’ll become very acquainted.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.” She stood tall. Proud. “And then you’ll get his sloppy seconds.”

  The winds picked up swirling around them. Warm and humid winds. Steam and vapor sizzled around her. Snow melted. Ice dripped from the trees. Maybe Gerardo had sent for reinforcements. He was smart like that.

  “What?” came a screech from the melee of demons, humans and angels. With claws bared, Larissa lunged at her. “How dare you?”

  “How dare I? You’re the one to talk. You made no qualms about snatching Josh from me. Sucks that we were already on the outs, though, huh?”

  Lizard tongue flicking, Larissa hissed, her scaly palm connecting with Lucy’s face. “I saw the admiration in your eyes. I saw how you still cared for him.”

  The winds built, like a giant vortex of hot and steamy air, whipping around them with eager flicks. For some reason, it spurred her on, gave her life. Rafe. Her heart thumped in excitement.

  “I care for Josh as a friend. There’s a big difference, you know.” Lucy threw back her head and chuckled. “Oh never mind, you probably don’t.”

  She fully prepared herself for the physical lash that would soon follow. She welcomed it. She wanted Larissa angry. Instead, Larissa threw back her head and cackled, the sound cracking in her ears. “But I know this, Lucia. Rafael Deleon loved me first.”

  Those words sliced into her, filling her with anger. With a deep growl, she lunged at Larissa and wrapped her fingers around her slender throat. Boiling rage bubbled inside her as she tightened her grip. The bitch had put Rafe through so much. She deserved to suffer.

  “Yes,” she gasped out, her smile remaining. Of course she’d be into that kinky shit. “Anger, mmm. Yes, Rafael loved me first.”

  The humid winds swirled and spun, creating a cocoon of intense warmth and energy. Calming, relaxing. The familiar scent of peppermint and spice wafted to her nose.

  “You’re mistaken,” Rafe’s voice boomed through the mists. “I cannot love a monster.”

  The steam fizzled away as Rafe, flanked by Kalli and Nic, burst into action. Reaching into his black leather coat, Nic pulled out a dagger, ready to strike. Rafael grabbed his shoulder, his silver eyes stormy.

  “She’s mine.” Even through the snow, Lucy caught the spark in his silver eyes.

  Shaking his head, Dominic extracted his arm from Rafe’s hand.

  Larissa grinned. “I’m still his,” she hissed in her ear. “I’ll always be his.”

  Her attempts to make her jealous only further fueled the anger. Anger she desperately needed to control. If there was one thing she remembered from the book, it was never let emotions, especially anger, rule your decisions. She made one decision. She wanted to join Rafael. She wanted to help him and his cause. She wanted to become a Paladin.

  “I, unfortunately, don’t have such high hopes.”

  She spun around to lock gazes with Kalli. Dreadlocks flying about, she growled, deep and animalistic. Like a mother bear protecting her cub. The air crackled. In that instant, Larissa flung Lucy to the side and lunged for Kalli, pulling at her hair, thus confirming suspicions. Kalli’s dreads were real.

  Kalli flung Larissa from her hair and lunged with her sword. Larissa sidestepped her and drew her own weapon. Lucy blinked. Kalli’s weapon was reminiscent of what Lucy had seen in her short-lived fencing class, and Larissa sported Jack Sparrow’s sword of choice, a long cutlass.

  She shrugged. Whatever floated their boats.

  The clashing of metal against metal rent the air and reverberated in her ears. Kalli lunged forward and swiped her blade across Larissa’s chest. A trickle of dark blood pooled onto white gossamer.

  “Bitch,” Larissa growled, swiping blood from her cheek. She pounced on Kalli, both women sprawling into the white fluff below.

  Craning her neck, she spotted Frankie, Gerardo, and Squeaky pummeling the snake out of Lamia. She hissed, flailing her olive-green tail in a futile attempt to smack the boys around. Squeaky, with a grace no normal chimp would have, dodged the tail and sent an uppercut to Lamia’s chin.

  “There’s more where that came from,” Squeaky said, jumping up and down on Lamia’s chest.

  Screeching, she dove for Squeaky, wrapped her claws around his chubby ankles and sent him sprawling.
Gerardo, each flap of his wings more urgent than the next, flew into the air and dive-bombed Lamia. She sailed backward, dark blood spurting from her floppy tail. With a resounding snap, she hit the same tree Squeaky was chained to earlier. She moaned as her slithering body slid down the tree.

  Spinning around, Lucy locked gazes with Rafe. He stood there, tall, dark, and foreboding, holding an ornately carved crossbow over his shoulder. Steamy fog swirled around him as his silver eyes sparked. Despite the roiling of her stomach, she breathed a sigh of relief. Rafe was here. He was safe.

  “Lucy!” Rafe rushed to her. Strong arms enclosed around her, cocooning her in his warmth. “We haven’t much time.”

  His whispered breath against her ear sent energy racing through her body. Not sexual energy, but another energy altogether. And it was ten times stronger. It filled her with warmth, made her strong and determined. What in the heck was going on?

  “I wouldn’t if I were you, Rafael Deleon.” Belial’s sinister voice boomed, freezing her in place. Anger and frustration swirled and boiled inside Lucy. She was raring and ready. She wasn’t a runaway bride. She was a rampaging bride. She would destroy him. After all, she couldn’t destroy Larissa. She sidled a gaze toward Kalli, who sliced her blade through Larissa’s flowing gown. Her gaze stony and determined with each thrust and parry, she growled. Then again, Kalli was already going commando on Lamia’s pawn. A pity—not!—for Larissa.

  She turned to glance at Rafe. Gripping the crossbow tightly, he aimed it at Belial, ready to pull the trigger. But he remained staunch and stony, the only glimpse of emotion was the storm brewing in his silver eyes. Hatred and anger rolled from him, yet he remained still. Absolutely amazing.

  The words she read in the Paladin manual came blaring at her. Do not allow anger to rule your actions. It sounded so much more interesting in Latin but still packed a punch in English.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Rafe said, keeping his bow trained on the demon.

  Smirking, Belial snapped his finger. In a biting cold gust of air, his priestess shimmered and materialized, her gaze still firmly planted toward the ground. “You’ve yet to meet my priestess.”

  Nic, stoic as ever, stood next to Rafe, his head held high. “I pity the priestess that serves you.”

  “I beg to differ.” Belial tugged the cloaked woman closer, his chuckle echoing through the bitter cold. With an evil flash of his golden eyes, he yanked the hood of her robe down. Strands of hair as silver as the moonlight cascaded and swirled, as if it tangoed with the wind. She kept her gaze planted to the ground in shame.

  Rafe let out a sharp breath of air, his arm tightening around Lucy, protection mixed with anger. She turned her head to glance up. His silver eyes churned like a giant storm and his jaw tightened.

  Slowly she raised her head, the familiar spark of silver flashing in her eyes. Lucy’s blood ran cold. This was Coby—Rafe’s sister.

  The sound of steel scraping filled the air. “Bastard.”

  Rafe and Lucy snapped their gazes toward Nic. He stood with sword drawn, ready to strike.

  Belial, obviously pleased with his unveiling, threw back his head as thick, grating laughter erupted from him. “Lovely, two distraught Paladins for the price of one.”

  “Let her go,” Nic demanded, gripping his sword, his knuckles turning white.

  Belial’s lips curved upward. He traced his finger down Coby’s cheek. “Perhaps she doesn’t want me to let her go. Right, Jacoba?” With that, he pulled Coby to him and lowered his mouth to hers. His lips enveloped hers, like he would suck out her soul.

  With a muffled murmur, Coby wrapped her arms around Belial’s neck and pressed closer. The bile rose in Lucy’s throat. He’d already sucked out her soul. What about Rafe? What will he do?

  But Rafe stood in place, steely and confident. The only movement was his dark hair flicking with the wind. His reserve kept Lucy balanced. Her own six-foot-four bottle of Prozac. The strangest thing ever. Even as demons, angels, and humans collided, she remained still. Confident. Complete.

  Alas, not all of them were so lucky. “You’ll pay for this!” Nostrils flaring, Nic bared his teeth. With a crazed gleam in his eyes, he swung his sword like a wild Norse berserker.

  “Nic, no,” Rafe breathed, reaching for his friend.

  With an angry growl, Nic wrenched his wrist from Rafe’s grasp and charged toward Belial. “Don’t you care for your sister?”

  Rafe reached out to hold Nic back. “Of course I do.”

  “Prove it. Destroy Belial.”

  “Anger isn’t the way.”

  “You coward.” Nic sneered and lunged toward Belial.

  Both Rafe and Lucy dove for Nic. Without a backward glance, he kicked them away.

  Belial shrugged and turned toward Rafe’s sister. “Jacoba, darling. Protect me.”

  “Yes, my master,” her voice, haunting yet anguished, burned in Lucy’s ears. Palming a long jewel-hilted dagger, she spun toward Nic. A brief flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes, only to be replaced by stony indifference. She kept the weapon trained on him.

  Nic stopped dead in his tracks. “Coby, no.”

  “Do it,” Belial ordered, his voice commanding. “Show them who you serve.”

  With that, the dagger sailed through the air, faster than she’d ever seen any weapon thrown before. Nic’s gasp cracked through bitter cold and shattered the air into a million pieces. Glancing down at the dagger now firmly implanted in his chest, he stumbled backward, confusion and sadness etching his face. “Why?” he managed with a soft groan. With that he fell to the ground and vanished into a puff of ice and smoke.

  “I had to do it.” Her words, although succinct, held a cryptic edge. She locked gazes with Rafe. “If you don’t give Belial what he wants, you’ll be next.” With that, she turned away.

  Belial smirked. “Do we have an agreement?”

  “She’s truly lost.” Rafe’s voice, although a muffled whisper, packed a punch that sent her senses reeling. He grabbed Lucy’s hand, his grip tight. “Now I understand.”

  Was he giving up on his sister? If he gave up so easily on her, what would he do with her? Grabbing the collar of his jacket, she pulled him to face her. He couldn’t give up. “She sent him back to Limbo. Big deal. She didn’t kill him. You can’t give up. Not now. Your sister needs you.”

  “You need me more. The only way to defeat Belial is for me to let her go.”

  “But she’s your blood.”

  With his thumb and forefinger, Rafe lifted her chin. “Michael said Coby would have her time. I’m not so sure of that anymore.”

  He couldn’t give up on his family, not after he helped her get hers back. “But there has to be a way.”

  Rafe’s gaze flickered. Reaching out, he traced a finger down her cheek. “She’s been under Belial’s control for too long. She needs to be destroyed.”

  She reached down and grabbed a discarded dagger from the frozen ground, the cold metal biting her skin. “You’d let him take your own sister?”

  “She won’t ever be the same. She’s lost her position as a Paladin.” His fists tightened as the silver oceans of his eyes churned. “Trust me, it’s what Coby would want.”

  “Sorry, I don’t agree with adult euthanasia.”

  Belial coughed, pulling them from their conversation. “I asked if we had an agreement.”

  Rafe’s despair urged her on. Belial was going down. If he was supposed to put his sister out of her misery, she wouldn’t be denied giving Belial the same pleasure. “I think we can only agree to disagree, you demonic dickhead.”

  With that, she scooped up Nic’s sword from the snowy ground. Somersaulting through the air, she lunged for Belial. He needed to go down—now.

  Chapter 30

  “Lucy! No!”

  Rafe’s plea, although loud, echoed faintly in Lucy’s ears. If he didn’t think he could save his sister, maybe she could. She had to.

  “I have to stop him,” she ground out. With a qui
ck thrust, she lunged for Belial.

  Like a quick gust of wind, he spun away, the blade barely scraping his arm. He reached out and snaked his arms around her, yanking her against him. His chuckle, low and sinister, chilled her to the core. He plucked the sword from her hand and dropped it to the ground, his fingers steaming. Blowing a cold breath against his palm, he shook his head. “Let’s face it, Lucia. You’ll be my wife whether you want to or not.”

  With a deep growl, Lucy struggled in his hold. Now she understood. She went after Belial in anger. Because she let her anger take over, she was back where she started.

  “Like hell she will.” Rafe’s voice boomed, reverberating against the buildings.

  Lucy snapped her head up to meet his gaze. Rafe’s gaze churned like two giant oceans, anger brewing on the surface. He stood with crossbow trained at Belial, aimed and ready to strike.

  She threw him a pleading gaze. Please, remain in control.

  There were three emotions stronger than anger. Determination for one, courage for another. And, of course, love. And she had plenty of them all, especially love. She allowed each emotion to pound their way through her body. She had to survive. She needed to send the Arca Inferorum back to Limbo. She slid a gaze to Rafe’s sister. She needed to save Coby. Saving her would save Rafe.

  “Hmm.” Her angelic voice lifted through the air. Coby scratched her chin. She turned to glance at her brother, her gaze empty. Rafe jerked his gaze away.

  “See how he denies you, Jacoba?”

  Lucy bit down hard into his wrist. “Don’t listen to him!”

  “So who are you going to save, Rafael Deleon?” Belial threw back his head and chuckled. “Your flesh-and-blood sister?” He flung Lucy forward, his claws deep in her arms. “Or the succubus you’ve been fucking?”

  “Bastard,” she breathed under her breath.

  “Yes, I am.” He hauled her against him, the hard planes of his body jabbing into her. The stench of brimstone and cinnamon engulfed her… swallowed her. Were those his lips? Sloppy, wet, and fetid.

  Rafe roared, the sound echoing in the air. The eerie snap of the crossbow followed. Belial gasped, the arrow wedged deep in his shoulder. Lucy jerked herself from his grasp and tripped across the snowy ground. Hopefully Rafe could load another arrow as quick as he had that one.

 

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