After that it all happened so fast. A blur of blows and blocks, slashes and hacks, as I turned the utensils into deadly weapons. The largest of the three demons connected with my side, landing punches to the still healing gore wound in rapid succession. Blood seeped from the wound. The wind was knocked out of me I dropped to my knees, still blocking blows and jabbing with the knife and fork as best I could. The smallest of the three fell after I slashed what I assumed was his Achilles tendon.
One down, two to go.
The second raised his foot, ready to kick me in the stomach. Driving the fork into his knee effectively stopped the attack. Thrusting up with the knife, I rammed the barely serrated utensil through the soft meat under his jaw and into his mouth. Neither seemed ready to yield. With a few twists and tugs, I worked my silverware free and tried to stand.
“Enough,” a familiar voice bellowed across the empty room, stopping the last two demons standing in their tracks.
Beelzebub clapped as he made his way through tables on their sides and upturned chairs to reach us.
“You are so entertaining to watch, Jacqueline. Like one of those Roman gladiators, covered in the blood of your opponents. It looks good on you.” He turned his attention to the demons remaining in the room. “As for the four of you, bested by a half-breed?” With a snap of his fingers, the four demons disappeared.
Banished to the lower levels of Hell? I didn’t dare ask, afraid Beelzebub would snap those fingers and disappear me right along with them. Uncertain if my newfound position as Devil’s favorite would save me from whatever the punishment was for destroying the cafeteria and fighting. I kept my cool and waited to see what Apollyon’s right hand had to say.
“You’ve earned their respect and in their eyes the right to take your place as your father’s successor.” The demon took a seat on the first chair he found still on all four legs.
“I didn’t realize I needed their approval.” Applying a little pressure to my side, I all but willed the damn wound to heal faster.
“This outpost is of the utmost importance. In the grand scheme, each of your brethren serves him, but they receive their orders from your father. We can’t have the citadel erupt into chaos should you replace him.”
“What if I don’t want to replace him?” Echoing the sentiments I’d expressed to Dumah the first day I woke inside the walls of his fortress, I eased into a chair opposite Beelzebub.
“Irrelevant. You’ve gained His favor. For now. Still, it would be wise to secure your future outside the comforts of his chambers.” The Devil’s snapped the fingers of his right hand again and I couldn’t help the urge to pat myself down and make sure I wasn’t disappearing like the four demons had.
Beelzebub chuckled and motioned for Lazarus to join us. Apparently this particular demon was my cross to bear. No matter what banishing spell or prayer I tried, or deal I made, I just couldn’t seem to shake him.
“Escort her back to her room.” Beelzebub placed a heavy emphasis on the word her when instructing Lazarus.
“I can find my way back on my own. I don’t need an escort.”
Lazarus shook his head, eyes wide in a mixture of shock and fear. I guess there weren’t many brave or stupid enough to question orders in this place.
Except for me, of course. Though the jury was still out on whether I was brave or stupid.
“You’ll be tested here too. Not to see if you’re worthy. There’s no need to prove yourself. You’ve done a fine job of that already.” The demon gave a little wink. He could be quite charming when he wanted to be. “Your positions with your father and him should give you an advantage, but they are in fact a disadvantage. To you and to them. This skirmish was about more than just payback for a few half-assed attempts to banish a demon. You’re tougher than they thought, but you’re still a weakness.”
With that weird little warning, the high-ranking demon excused himself, wearing a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile on his face as he left me alone with his lackey. I headed back toward my room, Lazarus scrambling to keep up.
“I’ve got it from here, really. I know my way back.”
Ignoring my brush-off, the demon kept pace with me as we hung a left and walked back down the hall to my room. He was good at following orders, I had to give him that. The lesser demon all but ran into me as I stopped just outside my door.
“I’m going in my room. Alone.” One brow arched, I gave him my “Don’t fuck with me, I’m not in the mood” look.
Having spent enough time in my company, the demon at least had the sense to know when I wasn’t kidding. Hands raised in mock surrender, Lazarus took a couple of steps back. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish’s, wanting to tell me something before thinking better of it and walking away.
Turning the knob, I pushed the door to my room open and fumbled for the light switch. With a flick, the overhead light came on. A domed silver platter gleamed back at me from my bed. A small white envelope leaned against it.
Another gift from Apollyon? My heart fluttered, and the nagging burn I’d come to associate with Thomas returned. I hadn’t noticed it the entire time I’d been in the cafeteria. Apparently what remained of the angel didn’t have a problem with me fighting demons. Just my sleeping with the one who was in charge of them. Not that I was surprised.
Reaching for the crisp white linen envelope, I pulled the heavy stock card out to see what my admirer had to say. One letter was scrawled on the white paper in blood-red ink. B. My stomach growled its discontent at my delay. Whatever the reasoning behind the gift Beelzebub had sent me, it could be contemplated while I ate. Unable to ignore that logic and the rumbling in my stomach any longer, I lifted the lid from the tray. A small moan of ecstasy escaped as I took in the sight of the burger and side of fried pickles on the platter. All that was missing was a large fountain coke – which I found resting on my nightstand.
I should have wished for water and a salad with some sort of sensible protein, but I was in Purgatory and there was nothing sensible about that. I should have treated my body better, given it the proper nutrients it needed to repair itself, heal the injuries I’d acquired when I’d tried to get something to eat the first time. I should have done a lot of things. Like question Beelzebub’s motives and what Lazarus had wanted to tell me. Faced with a pile of greasy, fried deliciousness and a bottomless cup of ice-cold carbonated perfection, I decided it could all wait.
After the first bite I knew I’d made the right choice.
Chapter Twenty-One
I must have slipped into a fast food coma, only to wake and find Apollyon sitting at the foot of my bed watching me. Because that wasn’t creepy or anything. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tried to get all my synapses firing. A tall order without a cup of coffee. The Devil stood, walking toward a fancy room service cart which held an even fancier silver coffee service set. Domed silver food trays, silver coffee pots and trolley carts? Purgatory sure had snazzy digs. If this was what Hell had to offer, I couldn’t imagine what things would have been like had I decided to ride the elevator up instead of down.
Taking the proffered cup of black coffee, I took a sip of the delicious dark roast before asking Apollyon the purpose of his visit.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of breakfast in bed?” Just mentioning the words “pleasure” and “bed” in his presence had my stomach tightening.
“Do I need a reason? Perhaps I wish to spoil you.” The Devil’s gaze trailed over the outfit he’d sent for me. “It looks good on you.” Eyes heavy with desire, he was clearly more interested in taking the clothes off than how they looked on.
I wouldn’t have complained. The more time I spent with Apollyon, the harder it was to resist him. And the more the nagging burn increased. Still, he wasn’t at all what I’d expected. The cruel deviant beast so often depicted was in fact capable of affection. Something he’d shown me more than once since my arrival, making it more difficult for me to listen to the incessant nagging from the piece of Thomas I carr
ied within me. No horns or bifurcated tail snaking around cloven hooves. Instead it was the fallen angel who came to me, still handsome despite all his flaws and misdeeds.
Beautifully broken.
Apollyon had described me in much the same way once. The similarities were endearing, softening my heart to him even further. If someone had told me the girl who’d sold her soul to the Devil all those years ago would end up by his side and in his bed, I’d have called them a liar. And yet there I was, pulling him toward me, kissing him, all but begging him to take me. Something he was all too happy to do.
Until something else caught his eye.
He snatched the heavy card stock off the comforter, his expression darkening as he stared at the single red letter. Crumpling the card in his hand, his anger slipped through; along with some of the darkness he’d locked away during our time together. For a moment I remembered why I’d feared him for so long, why I’d feared giving in to him.
And then it was gone; tucked away and replaced with the suave, cool demeanor I found so alluring.
“Walk with me.” He held out his hand expectantly.
The sudden change from bedroom eyes and foreplay to taking a leisurely stroll had my head spinning, but I slipped my hand into his nonetheless.
With a devilish grin, he pulled me from my bed, leading me out of my room and into the hall. Reaching behind me, he paused to cop a feel of my ass before pulling the door closed.
“Where are we going?”
The burning increased, a painful warning that I once again tried to ignore. So far the Devil had taken better care of me than the holy rollers I’d been working for. No one here had tried to kill me or conspired against me. Apart from one fight in the cafeteria – and I can’t say I didn’t have that coming – I’d been untouched. Unless I’d wanted to be and only at the hand of Apollyon.
“I want to show you something.” Taking my hand in his, Apollyon led me down the hall to an old wooden door with iron bands and a medieval-looking doorknob.
The hallway was an architectural oddity. No longer than any other hallway in a typical house, it seemed to extend itself as you walked, increasing or decreasing in length depending on your destination. The walk to the cafeteria with Dumah, though we’d made a left off my room instead of a right, had been far longer than the current length of the hall. The door Apollyon stopped in front of was roughly two doors down from mine, yet I hadn’t noticed it before.
“What’s the matter, Jax? Don’t you trust me?” Sensing my trepidation, the Devil gave my hand a squeeze, turning me to face him.
My least favorite question. Did I trust him, the Devil himself? No more than I trusted anyone else. Or less, for that matter. I’d trusted a woman I thought was my mother. That hadn’t really worked out. I’d trusted angels. And look where that had got me.
But there was this one guy. The Sin Eater.
The intense burning I’d been trying to ignore since I’d woken to find Apollyon sitting at the foot of my bed spread out from my core. The intensity lessened, a soft glow warming me from the inside out. Thomas seemed to approve of my line of thinking. But the Sin Eater had been a lifetime ago. The girl Dane had fallen in love with and who’d fallen in love with him didn’t exist anymore.
I didn’t know if she ever had.
Pushing aside thoughts of Dane and a life I was never meant to have, I plastered on a smile and reassured Apollyon that I was fine. I caught a flicker of disappointment in his eyes when I couldn’t bring myself to say I trusted him. I think he hoped to hear me emphatically swear to it. I wasn’t there yet. I doubted very much I’d be that way with anyone again.
Apollyon opened the door, releasing my hand as he took the first step down the narrow staircase. With a hand on the stone wall to steady myself, I followed him down the dark, winding stairway. Small orbs of light burst into existence with a wave of his hand before settling down into a soft orange glow.
“Hellfire. Apart from the obvious purpose, it does have its practical uses.” Apollyon flicked an orb my way.
The small ball of fire hovered just above my head, illuminating the steps as we descended further beneath the citadel. Thomas’s annoyance flickered in tune with the flame with each step, only to intensify the closer we came to the bottom of the staircase. Stumbling from the searing pain, I bumped into Apollyon.
“Anxious to see what’s on the other side? I’m anxious to show you my darl—” The Devil stopped short, muttering something about angels under his breath. Whipping around, he flattened me against the stone wall. Yanking up the leather bodice, he placed his palm on my stomach. “There you are, brother.”
The Devil wasn’t talking to me, but to what lingered inside me.
“You’re stronger than I thought. But she’s stronger than you.” Apollyon leaned in, placing a tender kiss on my neck. It was a spot he favored, no doubt sensing the effect he had on me as my pulse picked up every time he was that close. “Hold out your hand, Jax.”
His breath on my neck sent goosebumps dancing along my skin. With a shiver of anticipation, I held out my hand, palm up. Apollyon stepped back, taking my hand in his. With the pad of his thumb, he traced the brand, his mark on my palm, before snapping the fingers of his right hand over the scar. A small flame of hellfire flickered to life in my hand.
“Focus on it. Will it, command it.” The Devil stepped back, smiling proudly at his protégée.
Me.
Fascinated by the miniature fire I held in my hand, I did as instructed. Focusing on the flame, I willed it to grow, gave it power. Mesmerized, I watched it roar to life, like dragons’ breath, hot and wild. Apollyon, looking a bit singed but otherwise unharmed, snapped his fingers again and doused the flames with some sort of magic only he seemed to possess.
“See, it’s like I’ve been telling you. If you didn’t belong here with me, do you think you could control the fire of Hell?” Apollyon brushed away a few ashes on his shoulder. “It seems I left a little too much of the angel behind. I am sorry for that, my darling, but to remove it now would only cause you more pain. The hunger would come back and there’d be nothing to eat.”
The pain I’d felt before the feeding, before Thomas had given himself to me, far exceeded anything I’d felt while carrying what remained of him inside me. I’d drain every demon who crossed my path, every mortal I came into contact with to stop the hunger until I learned to control it. If I learned to control it. I couldn’t, wouldn’t leave Apollyon until I could.
It was an unfortunate development. One I hadn’t planned for. Not that it mattered. All my plans had led me to Apollyon anyway.
“Let me show you why I brought you here, what you’re meant to do. What you’re meant to be. I can teach you, show you how to control it, and then you won’t have to hold on to that nagging piece of angel essence any longer. You’ll be free of it. Free to be who you are.” The Devil took my hand, laying a kiss on his brand on my palm before entwining his fingers with mine and leading us out of the stairwell.
The room opened up into a vast cavern. Stalactites stretched down from the ceiling to meet their counterparts on the cave floor, like monstrous teeth. Small fissures ran along the rock walls down into the floor, where they broke off into larger cracks before breaking off entirely. Huge sections fell away, leaving a maze of narrow paths expanding over a dark abyss.
“We’ll cross here.” Familiar with the terrain and destination, Apollyon navigated the makeshift bridge with ease. It was too narrow for more than one person to pass at a time; he waited on the other side.
“What is that?” Halfway across, the bottomless dark below rippled. Small waves lapped at the side of the bridge.
“You’ve heard of the river Styx? You’re looking at the inspiration for its myths. It’s best to keep moving.” Standing just at the edge on the other side, Apollyon held out his hand, encouraging me to keep walking.
“There’s really a river of souls?” Peering down into the onyx waters, I looked for signs of the dead. �
��What happens if I fall in?”
“It won’t kill you, but you’ll probably wish it had. Dante had it wrong…well, not all of it. We do break everything down by sin – much easier to catalogue that way – but there aren’t nine levels. We have two. Purgatory and Hell. Three if you count the half plane we’re on now, but I digress. How did you imagine Hell? Each person stored in their own personal torture chamber? Writhing masses of bodies piled along the floor? Takes up too much space. There are more dead than living, and with every passing year my numbers grow.” He pointed toward the non-existent sky. “Plenty of room for expansion up there, due to all the vacancies. Down here…well, we just don’t have the room. A river of souls is far more efficient. Each soul following a course charted specifically for them, a constant loop of their personal Hell based on their sins.”
By the time he’d finished explaining the river I’d made it to the other side of the bridge with a sigh of relief when both feet were firmly planted on solid ground.
“Apollyon, where are we going?”
“I love it when you say my name.” The Devil slipped an arm around my waist, tucking me into his side as he escorted me deeper into the cavern.
“You said this was like a third level? So we’re not in Purgatory anymore but it’s not Hell either?”
The burning in my abdomen increased, like I’d swallowed acid and it was eating its way out of my stomach. Except this time I didn’t need what was left of Thomas acting like my conscience, alerting me to danger with excruciating pain. I’d managed to piece it together all on my own.
Tartarus.
“There’s some people I want you to meet.” Casual as ever, like he was taking me home to meet the folks and not to unleash the Fallen on mankind, Apollyon strolled further into Tartarus.
A fine sheen of sweat broke out over my body. The leather ensemble I’d felt like such a bad-ass in earlier quickly became a sauna, sticking to my legs and midriff, making it difficult to walk. Faced with my destiny far sooner than I’d expected, my steps slowed even more.
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