by Brenda Trim
The doors opened and their group entered. Her draw dropped as they walked into the palace. It was even bigger on the inside, the ceiling easily five or six stories high, and everything in the vestibule gilded and shiny.
She didn’t have an opportunity to find the source of light in the house as they were forced down a long hall. She glanced back when she heard Rhys cursing. He was far worse for wear, sporting fresh bruises on his face and a bloody nose. She suffocated the urge to rush to his side and care for him for fear of more pain being inflicted upon him.
What was it about this demon that drew her to him? She didn’t believe what he’d said about them being fated for one another and carrying part of each other’s soul. Although, in hindsight, she had always felt as if something was missing from her life. She wouldn’t say it was part of her soul, per say, but it made her pause and consider the possibility.
She shoved those thoughts to the side as they were ushered into a large room, reminding her of a throne room found in Heaven. The oversized chair was big enough to seat two large adults and was gold-encrusted and jeweled, completely over-the-top grandiose. The walls in the room were painted gold, may have even been made of solid gold. And, she’d never seen such exquisite floors during her time in Hell. They were pristine ivory and practically glowed. The tapestries were in immaculate condition, portraying a large man standing over those he had defeated.
It was striking how clean the home was. In fact, there wasn’t a speck of dirt or cobweb anywhere in the place. She couldn’t see the kitchen, but whatever was being prepared smelled divine and made her stomach rumble with hunger.
“Well, hello, whom do we have here?” drawled a man, voice thick with phlegm. She swirled back toward the throne and froze at the sight before her. The man overtaking the large chair was positively deplorable. He easily weighed six hundred pounds and made her wonder how he had moved so swiftly and silently considering she hadn’t heard him enter the room.
In a moment’s panic, she considered fleeing. He looked like he couldn’t stand on his own, let alone chase after them, but she knew looks could be deceiving so she stayed rooted in place. His attire was as ostentatious as his home. He had on an elaborate crown and a gold robe that was encrusted with rubies down the lapels. It covered his entire body, even his feet. She thought she saw a white collar peeking from the top of his robe and prayed that was the case. If his robe fell open and he was naked, she would never be the same again. Would not be able to erase the image from her brain, ever.
A moment later, several nude women and men walked to the throne and draped themselves at his feet, worshipping him. Looking away from their subjugation, she concluded this must be the leader, Mammon.
Rhys canted his head, drawing her attention. He had that look on his face. She held her breath, uncertain of what he was going to say. “Good to make your acquaintance, Buddha. You’re looking large as ever. We were just passing through your illustrious circle. Our two-day funpass to the Underworld is nearly up so we are in a rush to fit it all in.”
“Fucking Rhys,” Dante breathed on an exhale, barely audible. Illianna wouldn’t have heard him if she wasn’t standing so close. He rolled his eyes and she knew she was accurate, few got Rhys’ sense of humor.
Mammon laughed, sending a rumble through the floor. “Ah, this must be Lemuel’s infamous son, Rhys. Your father told me about your peculiar sense of humor, as well as, your lovely angelic companion.”
Rhys growled and she didn’t miss his fists clenching at his sides. Illianna saw how difficult it was for him to hold back. “I’m not really here to talk about Pops. Like I said, our tickets are expiring soon and we need to be on our way. We’ll just take our leave. No need to show us out, I remember the way. Nice home, by the way.”
Mammon was on his feet in a split second, confirming what Illianna had assumed. The man’s size was deceiving. The light caught his crown and Illianna saw two small horns on the top of his head. She recalled the story of his fall from heaven and wondered what made this former angel choose riches and confinement to this circle over service and freedom.
*****
Mammon was one fat, ugly piece of shit. He had rolls upon rolls of fat and looked like he was wearing a tent. If he hadn’t seen him move, Rhys would have said that the male’s servants carried him everywhere. And, in truth, they might carry him everywhere, but Rhys couldn’t assume that meant he was an easy foe to beat.
He wondered what his game was. His guard had said he wanted Illianna and that wasn’t going to happen. Clearly, the male hoped to lull Rhys into complacency. Compliments likely worked on him with his obvious avarice, but they didn’t do shit for Rhys, especially if you were mentioning his father in the same sentence. Rhys hated his dad and it was no secret.
“No one is going anywhere,” Mammon ordered.
Rhys glanced around and noticed that fifty additional soldiers flooded into the room, standing at attention with their guns drawn. Rhys, Dante and Kellen may be able to fight their way out of the room, but there was no way to get Illianna out with them.
Angels were immortal, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be killed. She wasn’t a warrior like Mack or Elsie, and surprisingly, he liked that about her. Although she wasn’t a fighter, she was one of the strongest females he’d ever met. Unfortunately, her angelic nature wouldn’t allow her to kill others and she would be taken out before she made it ten feet.
Cursing, Rhys realized they were stuck for the time being. He would have to be careful as he felt his way around manipulating Mammon. “What do you want, Mammon. We don’t have gold or gems and it is of the utmost importance that we get to the next circle.”
Mammon stepped off the dais and approached Rhys. “I want the angel, of course. But, the real question is, what you are doing here, Rhys?” Rhys schooled his features, hoping the male didn’t discover their true purpose in the Underworld. “It can’t be to rescue the angel or you would have escaped through Limbo with her,” Mammon finished as a male rushed to his side and flared his robe.
Rhys reacted on instinct, his mouth running before he could stop it. “You will never get Illianna. She is mine,” he gritted, breathing hard as his chest heaved, glaring at Mammon. Every cell in Rhys objected to the mere idea of this fat bastard laying one fat finger on his mate.
Mammon threw his head back and laughed aloud, “A demon in love with an angel. Give it up, boy. She will never love you. Trust me, I was an angel once. They are incapable of caring for those of our ilk.”
Rhys jerked, Mammon’s words hitting too close to home. Lemony powder teased his nostrils and he looked over to see Illianna had stepped up to his side, presenting a united front.
“I’m sorry, Mammon, but, you don’t know me and you have no idea who I will or will not love,” Illianna snapped, her silver eyes blazing.
“I do like your fire, little one. We will make a great team. Shall we keep the cambions around or get rid of them now?” Mammon approached Illianna and lifted his hand as if to touch her.
Rhys jumped between them, body shaking with the urge to rip Mammon’s head from his shoulders. If he acting on his impulses, none of them would be walking out of that room and the world would be lost. He refused to fail Zander, the male had done too much for him.
“What will you take instead of the angel?” Rhys gritted, eyes turning black with rage. The only time he felt this volatile was when his inner beast was starved.
Mammon eyed him head to toe before looking at Dante and Kellen. He was silent for long seconds before he placed his hand on the chain of Rhys’ necklace and lifted it from under his shirt. Rhys’ heart plummeted to his feet, fearing what might come next. His mother had given him the necklace before she had taken him from Annwyn to his father’s realm. He had barely passed from his stripling years into adulthood and it was the only thing he had that belonged to his mother. His only connection to her.
Mammon held the charm between two meaty fingers and a slow smile spread over his face. “I
stand corrected. You do have something to barter with, after all.” Rhys closed his eyes, weighing his decision.
His mother’s necklace, or, his Fated Mate? Fate was a bitch for making him choose.
“Why do you want a useless necklace?” he asked, wondering what appeal it held for someone who already had great wealth.
“My reasons are of no concern to you. If I want it, all I really have to do is take it.”
“He’s lying,” Illianna said from behind him. He canted his shoulder, but refused to look away from Mammon. “That necklace was forged by the Goddess and holds great power. More importantly, any gift from a God or Goddess can’t be stolen. If he kills you, your necklace will return to the Goddess. It has to be given freely from its owner.”
It wasn’t all that shocking to hear what Illianna said. The Triskele Amulet was powerful, and Zander had to give it to Kadir. This gave them an advantage that Rhys planned to exploit, but he had to be smart about it. There was no guarantee that Mammon wouldn’t simply kill them and keep Illianna the second he got the necklace. “Alright, Fat Albert, I will trade the necklace for the angel, on certain conditions. One, I don’t hand it over until all four of us cross to the next circle, and two, no one harms any of us while we are in your territory.”
Mammon’s face turned red…well, redder, and Rhys knew Mammon had been planning on double-crossing them the entire time. Silence stretched so long that Rhys inched his hand back, preparing to fight their way out when Mammon finally caved. “We have a deal, but you must spend the night in my home and have dinner with me. It has been too long since I have dined with my brethren,” he murmured, locking gazes with Illianna.
“How can that be? You dine with them nightly,” Illianna replied sweetly, implying the demons were more his kind than any angel.
Rhys wanted to laugh and kiss his mate. She had the same cut-throat humor he possessed, the Goddess had chosen perfectly for him. This angel got him where others didn’t. “I hope our attire doesn’t offend you. We’re short on gold lamé at the moment,” Rhys interjected before Mammon’s anger turned towards Illianna.
“You’ve caught me in a good mood today, cambion. Follow Roberto to your rooms and there you will find fresh clothing. Dinner is in an hour, don’t be late.”
“We wouldn’t dare think of it. You need to keep your girlish figure, after all,” Rhys quipped before grabbing Illianna’s hand, following the male servant through the main doors.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Illianna towel-dried her body, relishing the feel of clean skin. She had taken her time in the shower, enjoying the soaps and luxurious shampoos. She had to give it to Mammon, he spared no expense. She grabbed the lotion on the counter and spread it all over her body, moisturizing skin that had been neglected far too long. Everything she needed was provided, from toothbrush and deodorant, to perfumes and makeup.
And, he supplied clothes, as well. Tugging at her shirt, she tried adjusting the weight off her wing stubs. They were growing back and it felt odd. Typically, Lemuel would’ve cut the regrowth by now so it felt foreign after a hundred years of going without. The new top Mammon had provided her had been a ridiculous see-through number that she had skipped. She had asked his servant for a more practical choice. Same with the skirt and shoes. No way was she wearing six-inch death traps when she had enough trouble keeping her balance without her wings.
She wondered what Rhys’ reaction would be when he saw her in the leather pants and boots. She wasn’t so sure about the pants. They were tight and molded to her body like a second skin. She was used to wearing a toga, or being naked. The silk tank top she had on was thin, but not see-through, and, of course, it was gold. She had to admit being fond of the color. After all, her wings and hair were the purest of gold.
No bra had been provided and the soft fabric lay in a way that revealed her small breasts and nipples displayed for all to see. The home was kept too cold for her taste, but probably felt just right to the overweight man. One last look in the mirror, she took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom.
Rhys had his back to her and turned when he heard her open the door. His mouth dropped open and glowing eyes perused her from head to toe. She recalled the reason for the glow and her blood heated in response. She immediately wondered if he was going to demand she feed his demon. The darkness that had spawned in her over the past century wanted to revel in the carnal pleasure he had to offer.
“If you don’t want me to fuck you, Luscious, you can’t walk out looking like that.” She blushed at his direct comment. He didn’t hold anything back and it worked for him. She could imagine women all over the world readily giving him anything he asked for. He approached her and slowly ran a finger across her jaw and over her bottom lip, making her tremble under his command.
He was dressed in a crisp, white button-down and black dress pants that showcased his muscular legs. He was clean-shaven and smelled magnificent, musky with a hint of sandalwood and her mouth watered in response. His long hair was loose and hung over his broad shoulders. He was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on and she wanted him to take her right then and there.
She held her breath when he leaned down, certain he was going to kiss her. He paused, scant inches separating their mouths and cupped her face in one hand. “Are you hungry?” his breath was a warm caress over her flesh.
Famished for the taste of him, her knees weakened, needing to be closer. “I’m starving,” she whispered, hoping to explore more of this sexual chemistry between them.
He leaned closer and his bottom lip touched hers, sending electricity to her aching core. “Good, we don’t want to be late for dinner,” he murmured, his lips sliding over hers as he spoke. Her mouth parted in invitation.
Blinking several times she caught his brilliant smile as he clasped their hands and led her from the room. She had been certain he was going to exercise his option to pleasure her. Had even managed to get her all worked up with a smile and a few simple words. He had said he could give her orgasms whenever and wherever he wanted, but apparently, he preferred to torture her instead. She was relieved he didn’t pursue it further, she told herself. Problem was, the moisture between her legs told a much different story.
It wasn’t only his sex appeal that was messing with her ability to think rationally. The fact that he had repeatedly gone above and beyond to ensure her survival and safety was as confusing for her. He was part sex-demon and she expected the sexual component from him, but she didn’t expect the selfless acts. He had repeatedly put himself in the line of danger to save her and now he was willing to give up his prized possession to ensure her freedom. She would never have said that a demon would be capable of sacrificing so much. This enigmatic cambion was turning her long-held beliefs upside down.
He was silent beside her as they made their way down the hall. Everyone was already seated when they entered. The dining area proved to be as elaborate as the rest of the home. The long table wasn’t like any of the wood furniture she’d become accustomed to. It was a deep mahogany and had a high sheen that reflected the light. The dishes were the finest bone china on gold chargers with matching gold flatware.
“Ah, Jabba, you’ve really outdone yourself with this spread,” Rhys taunted as they approached the table.
Illianna smirked at the way Mammon’s face darkened when Rhys called him names. He knew it was a sign of disrespect and didn’t like it one bit. Rhys pulled out a high-back chair for her and took a seat between her and their current jailor. Until they were safely out of his domain, she wouldn’t see Mammon as anything different.
“My name is Mammon, stop calling me these ridiculous names,” he snarled, taking a drink of a ruby red liquid that appeared too thick to be wine.
“You must not know who Jabba is. I meant only the deepest respect for your cunning skill. You managed a feat similar to the fictional Jabba when you captured us.” Illianna had no idea what Rhys was talking about, but it seemed to mollify Mammon.
“Wine?” he offered.
“I’m a whiskey man, but if you don’t have any, I’ll have wine. So, my father told you to expect us?” Rhys segued as the servants poured them some wine. Illianna compared their drink to Mammon’s and concluded his was definitely not wine.
“Your father and Asmodeus offered a significant reward for handing you and the angel over to them. Lucky for you, I’m easily swayed to the highest bidder. And, that necklace happens to outbid them both. I hope you like seafood. It’s a pain in the ass to get fresh lobster and caviar through the portals,” he said, shaking his head, “but it’s worth it. I so enjoy my food.” That was an understatement, Illianna thought, as the man shoved an entire lobster in his mouth.
“Any food is greatly appreciated,” she told him honestly.
“Yes, I’m sure it is, Illianna,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Consider staying with me, this could be yours every night. What could these three possibly have to offer that outweighs all this,” he said, gesturing to the table laden with food and deserts. “With them, you face inevitable capture and death. Here, I can keep you safe and nourished.”
Beside her, Rhys bristled and opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. “They offer me something you never can, but thank you for the generous offer. I’m staying with them. This looks delicious,” she changed the subject, taking a bite of lobster. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her taste buds doing a happy dance in her mouth. The protein bar and the jar of food had been delicious, but this went far beyond that. She didn’t have words for the party that traveled from her mouth to her very happy stomach.
She opened her eyes to see the room had gone silent and everyone was watching her enjoy her meal. Her gaze snagged on the heat in Rhys’ eyes before moving quickly away. She had no desire to give Mammon any hint that she was attracted to the demon.
“What? Why are you staring at me?” she asked, shoveling more food into her eager mouth.