by Larissa Ione
“They were my daughters,” he said roughly. “That stone is—was—the only way I could see what was happening in my childrens’ lives.”
Oh...oh, shit.
Her breath came raw and scorching in her throat. “I thought...I thought you didn’t care about them. Methicore said—”
“Methicore is a bastard who coveted what I have,” he snapped. “This place used to be teeming with life, but he ruined it all.”
This place? She’d known it used to be green and full of creatures, but...she inhaled a sharp breath. “Your outbuildings...someone used to live there.”
“Your powers of observation are unsurpassed,” he drawled.
Ignoring the well-deserved sarcasm, she continued. “You said you built them to create a unity of sorts with the human world. But you built them for people, didn’t you? Who?”
“Memitim.” A blast of cold came from him, and she tugged the blanket over her again, not because she was cold, but because she needed a shield between them, even if it was just a flimsy piece of flannel. “For any who wanted to stay here.”
“You let them live here?”
“Let them? I wanted them here. They don’t have the powers normal angels have, and they can’t live in Heaven until they’ve Ascended to become full angels, so they’re vulnerable to demons in the human realm. I gave them a safe place to live and to train for their duties.”
“Then why did they leave?”
“Rebellion.” Reaching over to his desk, he swiped the ever-present bottle of rum off a stack of papers. “I gave them sanctuary. A place to gather in safety and prepare for their eventual Ascension. I’d intended for Methicore to become my apprentice, to take over Sheoul-gra one day.”
She blinked. “But you’re immortal. You don’t have to give this up.”
He laughed bitterly. “Give this up? Really? Do you think I like being isolated? Would you want to spend all eternity alone?” He took a swig from the bottle and then heaved it into the fireplace. It shattered, the alcohol exploding in a massive whoosh. “I wanted out. That’s why I’ve spent my entire time down here trading in information and death. I figured that eventually I’d find someone with the knowledge to get me what I wanted.” His expression became a mask of rage through which she saw flickers of his inner beast. “Then, a few centuries ago, Methicore decided he wanted to overthrow me. He and hundreds of his brothers and sisters tried to kill me. Turned out they would rather rule this realm than play guardian to humans who need them.”
She couldn’t even begin to understand how it felt to be betrayed by your children like that. Especially after he’d offered them a safe place to live and gather as a family. What a bunch of ingrates. She’d have given anything to have a family.
“Not all of them rebelled,” he continued. “A handful stuck around to serve in this realm until a few years ago, when the first Horseman’s Seal broke. It was chaos for them then. Their assigned humans were all in danger, and they were too busy to return to this realm. Many died. None came back. What little life was left here died.”
Now Lilliana felt suddenly chilled, and she gathered the blanket more snugly around her. “None?”
“One of my daughters, Idess, visits, but only when there’s an urgent matter. I can only hope that Methicore’s plan to keep everyone away won’t extend to her. She gave up her angel status to be with a Seminus demon mate, so Memitim rules shouldn’t apply.”
“You really love your children,” she murmured.
He looked at her with bloodshot eyes. “I didn’t,” he said in a strained voice. “I felt mild affection for them. Until now. Until you unlocked the box of emotions I thought was sealed tight. Now I love them.” He picked up a jagged piece of rock, and with horror she realized that it was a chunk of the spying stone she’d broken. “And now I’ll never see them again.”
Oh...God. She swallowed, desperate to keep breakfast down. “You can get another stone, right?” Her voice was shaky, hollow, shot to hell.
“Yes, but they only work to spy on those who have given their permission. By now, Methicore has probably poisoned them all against me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never felt jealousy before, and I didn’t know how to handle it. That’s not an excuse, I know, but please believe me when I say I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze, desperate to make him see her regret. “And I’m very sorry that I judged you as a father. I think I carried my issues over to you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Your issues?”
“My father...he was...” She started to say, “Like you,” but Chaniel was nothing like Azagoth. “He was a sperm donor. Nothing more. After my mother died, he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. The bastard left me to be raised an orphan at the battle angel academy.”
“He what?” Azagoth’s jaw clenched so hard she heard bone pop. “I hope he has since pleaded for your forgiveness. And that you told him to fuck off.”
She almost laughed at that. No way she’d have told him off. She’d have taken any scrap he’d have given her. “He refuses to see me.”
Azagoth’s eyes sparked crimson. “He doesn’t deserve to be a father. He wouldn’t deserve even a viewing stone.”
The reminder of the stone she’d broken made his expression go hard and flat again, and she shoved to her feet, prepared to fall to her knees and beg his forgiveness if that’s what it took. “Azagoth—”
“Don’t.” He bounded from his chair and away from her. “I can’t deal with you right now.”
He might as well have driven a stake through her heart, that’s how badly his words hurt. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked, before realizing he didn’t know she had a thirty-day window.
“Even if you could, no.” He smiled sadly. “I told you I want you, and that hasn’t changed. If anything, I want you even more. You’re all I have left.” He backed up, lifting his hands in an almost defensive gesture. “But stay away from me. Just for now.”
With that, he slammed out of the office, and that’s when she lost it.
So much for breakfast.
Chapter Seventeen
Lilliana paced across the twenty-foot diameter pentagram at the base of the portal out of Sheoul-gra, trying to work off the events of yesterday and the sleepless night alone in the giant bed, with reminders of other females all around her in Azagoth’s sex furniture. Without him there, all she could think about was how he’d used each and every item, and how she’d yet to banish those ghosts from the bedroom.
Now it might be too late.
Azagoth had disappeared after leaving her in his office, and according to Zhubaal, he’d gone to visit his “lover” again.
She’d punched him. Right in the nose. She’d believed Azagoth when he told her about his past relationship with Rhona, and Zhubaal wasn’t going to plant doubt in her head again.
Zhubaal was very clear on that now.
She only wished she could be as clear on how she felt about the situation she currently found herself in.
She had messed everything up. Thanks to her impulsiveness, she’d severed Azagoth’s last connection with his children. And thanks to her deception, he’d grown to care for her, and if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she cared for him, too.
She hadn’t intended for any of this to happen, hadn’t considered the collateral damage involved in her grand plan to abscond with the chronoglass.
If she left now, it might be the best thing for him. After all, their relationship was based on lies. She couldn’t handle it anymore. She’d reached a tipping point, one that was very close to toppling. She had to commit—to either staying...or leaving.
“Hi Lilliana.”
Startled, Lilliana whirled around. An Adonis-faced angel stood in the center of the pentagram, his crisp business suit as flawless as his distinguished salt-and-pepper hair and olive skin.
“Hutriel,” she gasped.
“It’s good to see you.”
&
nbsp; She wished she could say the same, but she really did not like her ex. “Why are you here?”
His periwinkle eyes flashed imperiously. “I come with news from Raphael.”
Oh, shit. She had a sneaky suspicion she wasn’t going to like this news. “Well, spit it out.”
He stiffened in that haughty way of his. “I’m an angel of the Order of Virtues. I outrank you by three Orders. In addition, I’m an angel of good standing, while you...” He sneered at Azagoth’s manor. “You are a shameful wrongdoer undeserving of my company. You will address me with respect.”
“I give respect when it’s earned,” she said bluntly. “You lost mine a long time ago, and I don’t see it happening again soon, Rod of God.”
He used to love to point out that his name meant, “rod of God”, as if it made him important. He was a rod, all right, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate the alternative use of the word.
The egotistical rod.
“I don’t like your attitude,” he ground out.
“And I no longer care what you like or don’t like.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So tell me why you’re here or go away.”
His mouth pursed so tight she thought his teeth would break. “Raphael wants to know what’s taking you so long.”
“I have a month. It’s only been a few days. Tell him to hold his horses.”
Rod of God’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “That’s an archangel you’re speaking about.”
“He hasn’t earned my respect either. So why don’t you march your suck-up self back to Raphael and tell him...” Tell him what? That she’d changed her mind? Had she changed her mind? For sure? “Tell him I need more time. And I could use some help, as well. With my limited powers, the chronoglass is too heavy to move.”
“That’s not his problem.”
“No, it’s yours,” she said. “You’re the one who has to go back and tell him to bite me.”
“You’re very brave down here in Azagoth’s realm. Will you be so mouthy once you’re face to face with Raphael in his chambers?”
She’d deal with that when—and if—she stole the chronoglass.
“I don’t know. Will you be so mouthy when you’re face to face with Azagoth?”
He snorted. “It’s really too bad you’re not going to stay here. You deserve him.”
“How do you know I’m not staying?”
He laughed, a full-on belly laugh. “Come now, Lilliana. I know how you like your freedom. It’s why you left me, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “Mostly I left you because you’re a controlling asshole. It’s funny how Azagoth is talked about as if he’s a soulless monster, but he’s been better to me in a few days than you were in a hundred years.”
“Good...Lord,” he breathed. “You actually like him. You’re falling for him.” He stared at her, horror spreading over his perfect features as the truth of her situation began to solidify in his mind. “You’ve fucked him, haven’t you? You...whore.”
“You haven’t changed a bit. Still a judgmental dick.” Done with him, just like she’d been all those decades ago, she spun around and started toward the building. Walking away was as easy this time as it had been then. “Tell Raphael to suck an egg.”
He moved in a flash to snare her wrist and yank her back to him. Teeth bared, he snarled. “Find a way to steal the chronoglass, Lilliana. Raphael feels that giving you too much time has made you slack off. You now have two days to do it.”
She inhaled sharply. “What?”
“Two days, Whore of Sheoul-gra.” His eyes flared with exaggerated astonishment even as his fingers dug painfully hard into her flesh. “Oh, you don’t like that name? Because that’s what everyone is going to call you if you stay here. So get your ass in gear, or—”
A roar shattered the air, and suddenly Hutriel went airborne in a bloody explosion. A fine pink mist hung in the air as his wrecked body hit the ground inside the portal’s pentagram ring.
Lilliana pivoted toward the owner of that bloodcurdling roar, and her heart slammed hard into her rib cage. Azagoth, fully eviled-out, was pounding down the stairs three at a time, his massive, sharp teeth bared, his wings extended, his eyes glowing with crimson death.
“You dared to touch my mate?” His words were warped, guttural, and dripping with murder. He snarled, and Hutriel screamed as dozens of bones in his body snapped. “You. Will. Die.”
“Azagoth, no!” She leaped to intercept, but Hutriel, still inside the portal circle, disappeared in a glittery shower of sparks, barely escaping with his life.
He rounded on her, but his voice had tempered. “Who was he?”
“Take off your demon face,” she said in a low, soothing tone, “and we’ll talk.”
His nostrils flared, and a muffled, soft growl rumbled in his chest. He stared at the empty space where Hutriel used to be, his clawed hands flexing as if he was regretting the missed opportunity to rip the angel apart.
“Come on,” she urged quietly. “Shift back.”
Azagoth remained like that for a few seconds, and then he paced in a circle for a minute, until finally, he morphed back into his usual body. As he turned back to her, his tall, elegant form outfitted in black slacks and a matching button-down, she couldn’t help but think that the civilized clothing only heightened the awareness that underneath it all, he was death in human skin.
“Who. Was. He.”
“He was my ex,” she replied. “Hutriel.”
Azagoth’s nostrils flared and his eyes flickered with red sparks. “Why was he here?”
Oh, because he needed to tell me to hurry up and steal your chronoglass.
“He wanted to wish me good riddance,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in her voice. She hated lying to him, but at this point, the truth was only going to cause more pain, and she couldn’t do that to him again.
She’d done enough of that already.
“He grabbed you.” Once more, flickers of his inner beast formed as shadows in his expression. Quickly, she took his hand and pulled him to her, drawing him hard against her body, where she’d needed him to be since yesterday.
“We fought.” She slid her hand behind his neck and massaged him there, digging deep into muscles so tight they felt like bricks. “It’s what we do. But I don’t want it to be that way with you.”
“He touched you. I can...smell him.” With a growl, he hauled her even closer to him as he dipped his mouth to her ear. “I need to be inside you. I need to mark you. Brand you. Make him disappear forever.”
Oh...oh, damn. “Yes,” she whispered.
And with that, she knew for sure she wasn’t leaving.
Chapter Eighteen
Azagoth was in a state of animalistic need. The desire he felt for Lilli was so basic, so primal that, just like his killing urge, he knew better than to fight it. He swept her up and headed inside his manor on a direct course for his bedroom, and Hades help anyone who was stupid enough to get in his path.
Only one griminion came close to making that mistake, but he leaped out of the way with a squeak and scurried into his living quarters as Azagoth stalked down the hall. Lilliana’s lips were kissing hot paths along his neck and jaw, driving him insane. When he reached the bedroom, he kicked open the door, not caring that it cracked down the middle.
Once inside the bedroom, he set her on the floor, but when he lowered his head to kiss her, he caught another whiff of her former lover. Possessive anger lit him up as he gripped the flirty purple sundress she was wearing and ripped it in half.
“You’ve had a very busy couple of days, haven’t you?” He dropped the shredded dress to the floor and hooked his finger under the delicate lace of her panties. “Meeting with your ex, destroying my viewing stone, punching Zhubaal in the face.”
“I’m not sorry about Zhubaal,” she said. “He’s a jerk. And I certainly didn’t invite Hutriel for a visit.” She laid her hand over his and pushed it deeper inside her underwear, until hi
s fingers brushed her cleft. “But I swear, I’m so sorry about the spy stone.”
He let his fingers play a bit, stroking over the flawless hills of her sex. Countless years of bedding angels had taught him that gentle touches while talking soothed the savage beast—both his and theirs.
“What led you to think I wanted someone besides you?”
“Zhubaal said...it’s not important. And then I saw you looking at females,” she said, going breathless as he slipped a finger between her folds. “Then there’s all of this sex furniture stuff. You used it on other females, and I have to just sit here and look at it.”
He supposed he understood that. If the situation were reversed and he’d been subjected to constant reminders of Hutriel the Silver-haired Douchebag, he’d be on edge, too.
“I’ll toss it. All of it.” He dropped to his knees and used a fang to slash her underwear open. Damn, he’d never get tired of the sight of her like this. Bare. Her flesh parted just enough to invite his tongue. “After,” he growled as he put his mouth to her waiting sex.
She allowed him a single, mouthwatering lick before stepping away from him. “No. You want to erase Hutriel, and I want to do the same with all of your females.” She marched over to the St. Andrew’s Cross, her glorious backside swinging. With a lithe spin, she put her spine to the wood and snapped her wrists into the restraints. “Do it. Let’s banish all of our demons. You know, figuratively.”
He inhaled in an attempt to get a bead on where her emotions were, but all he got was a blast of lust that made his knees wobble as he came to his feet.
Real smooth, buddy. Real fucking smooth...
It was crazy how this female had torn down his defenses, made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. Or ever.
He looked around at the bedroom, at all of the equipment he kept, and suddenly he didn’t want Lilliana’s exquisite skin touching any of it. He’d used it for a purpose he’d never again need it for. It had to go.
Well, maybe the spanking bench could stay.