Raise Hell

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Raise Hell Page 22

by Briana Michaels


  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Wet heat pooled between her thighs, and she felt terribly uncomfortable with the leaves covering her. With a quick tug, she broke the vines from around her hips and stood before him in the same stance.

  “I see a Devil before me,” she practically purred. Goodness, she had no idea her voice could sound so thick and deep with want.

  It is wrong to want. That stern voice from her past knocked the sails out of Eve immediately.

  “What is it?” Lucifer made up the distance and grabbed her arm. “Eve, you’re paling.”

  “It’s wrong to want,” she croaked. “I’m going to get in trouble. I’m going to—” She went into a tailspin of bad memories. The training and purity process, it was like someone had doused her with ice water and shoved a thousand needles into her skin. Every bit of Eve prickled with intense fear. “I’m sorry, I will not want. I will not want. I will not—”

  “Eve!” Lucifer yelled as he shook her. “Eve, look at me.”

  To look upon him would only stir her wants more and that would cause more pain and suffering when she was caught.

  “Eve, you’re not there anymore. You’re not there,” he cupped her face and smashed his forehead to hers, “Open your fucking eyes, female. You’re safe. You’re here with me.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut tighter and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” Please, not the smoke baths, not the blood-letting, not the fire! “I’ll be good, I’ll be good!”

  “Damnit, Eve!” Lucifer scooped her up and carried her into the wading pool. She barely felt the water as he sloshed the two of them into the deep end. It was only after he stuck her under one of the smaller waterfalls that she snapped out of it.

  Digging her fingernails into his shoulders, Eve shivered in Lucifer’s arms. Maybe the water would wash away her badness. Her foolishness. Her wants and curiosity. When Lucifer began to drag her out from under the spray, she clung to him.

  What was it about this Angel that he could elicit so many different emotions from her all at once?

  “I’m so sorry, Lucy.” She let go of him and swept her wet hair out of her face. “I… I don’t know what came over me.”

  He stepped back to give her a little bit of space. His chest heaved as he breathed heavily, his arms were down at his side, his hands clenched into fists. Now she felt terrible that she’d just freaked him out. Fuck, she couldn’t get anything right today.

  “I can’t imagine what they did to you.” Lucifer’s voice was gruff and hard to hear over the rush of the waterfall behind them. At first Eve wasn’t going to say anything, but then Luce added, “You would cry out in the cage when you were sleeping sometimes.”

  Eve’s wings drooped. There was no sense in trying to hide her truths from Lucifer. He wouldn’t judge her for her actions – past or present. “Purity isn’t always a virtue, sometimes it’s just… demanded.”

  Luce nodded; his brows furrowed. “I heard Michael had a similar process for the brotherhood. I understand it is quite brutal.”

  Eve nodded and bit her lip.

  “You’re aren’t there anymore, Eve. You’re never going to be there again.” He placed his finger under her chin. “So long as you’re with me, I’ll never let anyone do anything to you again. Not that you don’t want done.”

  “You’re such a Devil,” she half-grinned. “Always protecting.” She loved that his eyes shined with pride when she said that.

  “Some protector I am,” he shrugged, “I can’t even fly with these things yet.” Lucifer spread his heavy black wings and they dripped with water.

  “Maybe Devil’s don’t fly.”

  “Perhaps not.” Lucifer ran both his hands through his wet, jet black hair. “I don’t need them anyway. I’m better on ground level.”

  Eve started walking out of the water and headed to the shore. “I’m worried about the others.” It was best to switch topics. If she stayed in that water with a dripping wet Angel like Lucifer, she was bound to do something wicked, and her nerves weren’t ready to accept whatever the repercussions would be.

  “I am too,” Lucifer followed her out.

  “How long do you think they’ll stay gone?”

  “No idea,” Lucifer shook the water from his wings and tucked them tight to his back. Even as tall as he was, his black wings still dragged on the ground. “Lazarus seems to think they’ll be back when they’re meant to come back.”

  “That’s not very helpful.”

  “Not at all,” Lucy chuckled. “He’s going to start training us how to sword fight once the sun goes down.”

  Eve frowned, “Down? Why not up?” They would waste an entire day if they didn’t start at sunrise. And there was a terrible anxiety growing in Eve. It started the moment the other Angels left.

  “I don’t know. He said something about the reflection of his wings in the sun would mess us up. We have to work up to that level.” Lucifer toed a smooth rock, bent down and picked it up. Tossing it in the air and catching it, he stared out at the waterfall.

  “What are you thinking about, Lucy?”

  He shook his head, “You don’t want to hear the answer to that.” He tossed the rock in the water and picked up another.

  “Why not?” Was he thinking she wouldn’t be a good fighter? Was he worried she’d slow him down somehow? “I want to know. Tell me.”

  “I’m thinking about all the things I wish to do, but can’t.” He tossed the second rock in. “And I’m thinking how I keep moving from one kind of cage to another.”

  “Unleash yourself.” Eve walked over and touched his arm. His skin was a deep tan with threads of darkness swirling around his wrists. “Free yourself. You’re only in a cage if you make it a cage. Make this place your home. And when we leave here, make the next place your home.”

  Her heartbeat quickened when he laced his fingers with hers, “You speak like we’re going to always be together.”

  She wanted them to be together forever if that was even possible.

  Want. There it was again, that terrible desire for things. The need filled her up and bubbled out of Eve like a fresh water spring.

  “You know,” Lucifer squeezed her hand tighter, “You can unleash yourself, too, Eve. You’re only bound to the rules you set for yourself. The Purity Sect no longer owns you.”

  Eve’s heart clenched as tightly as Lucifer’s hand did around hers. And when he tipped his head back and howled at the moon, his voice echoed and vibrated the very marrow in her bones.

  He was right. Lucifer was absolutely, motherfucking right. Eve was as free as Lucifer was now. She could fight like a warrior, howl like the wolves, dirty her skin, and tangle her hair. There were no enforcers here to punish her for breaking rules – especially in a realm where there weren’t any rules at all.

  For the first time since she’d given a soul to that human baby, Eve felt like she could breathe again. Lucifer, in his own way, had unlocked her cage door and was attempting to set her free. The choice she had to make was: Would she accept her freedom, or continue to live under the laws of Angels who governed her so harshly before and ruined her later.

  Lucy’s howl erupted again – this second time was much louder than the first. Wolves from all over chimed in and answered his call. He laughed with his head tipped back and mouth wide open. His teeth gleamed in the moonlight and she watched as more of the darkness on his torso receded.

  “Join me,” he nudged. “It feels good.”

  But Eve had a better idea of something that would feel good. “Lucy?” He looked down on her with that big smile still plastered on his handsome face. “Kiss me again.” She watched his smile fade and eyes darken.

  “Are you sure?” his voice was deep and delicious.

  Instead of talking, she grabbed the back of his neck, drew him in, pressed her mouth to his, and stole the moment.

  A low growl rumbled out of his chest, up his throat, and into her. And when Eve swept her tongue against hi
s, he embraced her with two arms and folded his wings around them.

  Eve grew weak in the knees. Lucifer smelled divine and tasted like everything she never knew she needed. His hand pressed against the small of her back, his other gripped the back of her head, massaging it as he deepened the kiss.

  Holy Hounds of Glory, she didn’t think she’d survive this level of ecstasy. Eve dug her nails into him, holding on for dear life. Energy shifted inside her like a lock clicking into place. A weight lifted. The ground spun under her feet.

  If kissing Lucifer was damning, she never wanted to be saved again. And if there was ever a special place for her corrupt soul to go when she died, Eve sure as shit hoped she and her Devil were going to be there together….

  Forever.

  Chapter 33

  Gabriel’s hands shook something fierce as he put slight tension on the thread and sewed Uriel’s wounds closed. His brother passed out just after insisting Gabe be the first to drink the healing water Lilith brought them. Damn you, Uri. Damn you straight to… He didn’t know where.

  Every once in a while, Gabriel would swipe his nose with the back of his hand. His eyes burned from the tears he refused to shed. And the shaking in his hands got worse with every stitch he made.

  Holy Divine Light, Uriel looked like a monster that had been ripped apart and sewn back together. And Gabriel’s injuries were causing him to leak all over Uri, which was horrifying. Blood ran from them both, saturating and soaking Uriel’s white wings. The little bit of healing herbs laced in the water barely made a dent, not that Gabriel wasn’t appreciative, but she’d risked everything for so little in the end. What’s worse was—

  “I should have never had a drop,” he whispered to Uriel. “Why do you always insist someone else goes first?”

  Uriel didn’t have to answer that question. Gabriel knew exactly what he’d fucking say. “You’re more important than me.” Michael broke Uriel more times than any other Angel in sect. Bones mended, cuts healed, but a male’s pride was something that, once shattered, could not be put back together again. Uriel always put himself last with everything. Gabriel and Constantine worked long and hard to break Uriel of the habit, but it never stuck.

  Once you’re used enough times, you lose sight of your worth. Might even see yourself as disposable. Uriel suffered insecurities and worthlessness on a daily basis no thanks to Michael.

  Gabriel cut the thread and started sewing up another of Uriel’s stab wounds. Shit, so much of that Angel’s body was wrecked, Gabriel couldn’t understand how Uriel ever survived this much trauma. He made the first puncture with the needle and started the process all over again, carefully closing the gap of tissues.

  Had Uriel been a human, he’d be dead right now. And as gruesome as this punishment was, being an Angel might not save him this time. Damnit, where the fuck was Constantine? He should have been back by now.

  Guilt for drinking that healing water first grew darker and heavier in Gabriel’s heart. If Uriel died, it would be all Gabe’s fault.

  “We’re going to get you all patched up, brother,” His voice was gruff and scratchy. “Then we’re going to get you the fuck out of here.” He finished stitching one gash and started on another. “I should have made you stay with them.” You would have been safe there.

  “Stay with who?” Michael asked from the doorway.

  Gabriel dropped the needle and thread onto Uriel’s chest and stood up so fast, he knocked his stool over. “Sire.”

  “Stay…” Michael entered their room with his hands folded across his chest, “with who?”

  “Stay with,” Gabriel latched onto a lie as fast as he could, “with Rave and the others.”

  “Explain.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I only meant that… when everything happened… I should have ordered Uriel to stay back with Rave while I went after Lucifer.”

  Michael came forward two more steps, “And why would it have mattered?”

  Yeah, why would it have mattered? It wouldn’t have, and that’s the painful truth. Michael would not suffer a failure to go unpunished. And for whatever reason, Michael had an obsession with targeting Uriel all the time.

  Something terrible and ugly roared within Gabriel. He was furious for his brothers. So many of them drew a bad card when it came to Michael. Being part of the brotherhood was brutal. It took guts to survive this place and to survive their master.

  “It wouldn’t have mattered in the slightest, Michael.” He stared that bastard down. “You always find fault with us, even when there is none.”

  “Perfection is—”

  “Impossible,” Gabriel cut him off. “And how dare you cast stones at us. Nothing about you is perfect.” Gabriel made sure to rake his gaze over Michael and have a disgusted look on his face while he did it. “No leader worth their salt would treat his brothers the way you treat us.”

  “Careful, Gabriel. You’ve only just had a lashing.” Michael’s eyes flicked to Uriel, “There are far worse punishments than what you received today.”

  “Don’t I fucking know it. Don’t we all fucking know it.” He got in Michael’s face, “When the mighty fall, the world shall quake. Isn’t that what you’ve always said?”

  Michael’s teeth gleamed with his sneer.

  “I hope the earth is knocked off its axis the day you’re taken down.”

  “Is that a challenge, Gabriel?” Michael withdrew his sword and pressed the tip of the blade to Gabriel’s throat.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he pushed into the steel, let that blade pierce his skin and draw his righteous blood. “What are you afraid of, Michael? Go ahead. Kill me.”

  Fuck him sideways, Gabriel prayed he did it. Gabriel deserved death for his recent actions. And when he sewed Uriel up, he reprioritized his goals. Maybe he shouldn’t be the Protection Sects new leader. So much damage had been done to the brotherhood, he’d never be able to fix it. Not in a thousand lifetimes. This place wasn’t savable. No one here was.

  Coming back was the biggest mistake Gabriel ever made. The odds of surviving this rebellion were against them. At least Lucifer, Lazarus and Eve were out of sight and safe for now.

  Gabriel glanced at the symbol on the wall drawn in Uriel’s blood. Uri always finger painted the same swirly sigil when he thought he was going to die. Gabe asked him once about it and he said he wanted the world to see that he’d been there. That the symbol was Uriel leaving his mark.

  A mark. That’s all. Uriel just wanted to leave a mark.

  Gabriel wanted to carve out something bigger for himself in this life. Write his names in the stars. Pry the earth open and have the canyons echo his name. But all he’d ever done was leave curses…

  Mother of the Divine race, he was deplorable. He led his brothers back for what? So he could be leader of the brotherhood? That was never going to fucking happen. He came back to be slaughtered and brought Constantine and Uriel back with him.

  He deserved to die.

  “Do it.” Gabriel begged and pushed against the sharp steel tip. “End me.”

  With the tip of Michael’s blade piercing his throat, the guilt of all the curses he’d placed on others, and the weight of the world resting heavily on his shoulders, Gabriel understood why some wished for death. Should he parish now, he’d be free of everything. Free of guilt. Free of Michael. Free of his anger, fear, and heart ache.

  Death would be so blissful.

  “Do it,” Gabriel’s eyes burned with hate. “Fucking do it, Michael.”

  There it was… Michael’s hesitation.

  If Gabriel died, the curses he was forced to lay upon his fellow Angels would be undone. And oh, what a wonderful world this place would be if that happened.

  Never once had Gabriel enjoyed placing magic on someone like that. But Michael forced his hand, and at times Lazarus backed up Michael’s claims of those curses being necessary to save the world from ultimate destruction.

  Now? Now, Gabriel questioned everything. His purpo
se. His place.

  His master.

  “What have you done, Michael?”

  “I’ve done nothing that wasn’t for the good of our kind.”

  “Not what I asked,” Gabriel’s jaw clenched. He needed to go into Damage Control before he ended Michael’s life here. That sneaky bastard had too many secrets and too many hiding places. Gabriel was going to have to flush those out before he took Michael down for good or else something worse could happen.

  The last thing Gabriel wanted was to go to his grave with the guilt that he accidentally turned the world into a wasteland because he’d been too quick to behead the top Angel here.

  “What of The Scourge, Michael? Where are they?”

  “How did you—” Michael’s eyes narrowed and he withdrew his sword.

  Gabriel stood his ground. “You always said you’d sic them on our worst enemy. Isn’t Lucifer your worst enemy?” He rounded his shoulders and flared his wings. “Or am I the one you fear the most now?”

  Michael laughed and shot bolt of energy straight into Gabriel’s heart.

  Constantine knew his punishment wasn’t over. Following Michael into the secluded underground room was just accepting his fate, which Constantine always tried so hard to do and ultimately failed every time.

  It made his current situation almost fucking laughable.

  Strung up by his arms and wings, suspended in the air by chains, he stared at four unfamiliar symbols burned into the ground.

  That disturbed him.

  Had Michael collected new magic? Were these symbols representative of a particular group of Angels? There was something dangerous about the markings. A sense of foreboding crept into Constantine’s gut. Four sigils. Four.

  That wasn’t a coincidence.

  The Scourge. Constantine’s blood turned to ice. Had Michael finally unleashed the legendary Angels of destruction and death? Were those marks the summoning symbols to call forth the four warriors who would lay waste to the world and all those in it?

 

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