Reluctant King (Reluctant Royals Book 1)

by Montana Ash

Phaedra looked pleased, jumping agilely from the bed. “Yay! You’re welcome. What are you going to do now?”

  “Now?” Sabre rubbed her hands together and began to mentally catalogue the weapons she would need for her surprise trip. “Now I’m going straight to Hell.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Do you think I like hurting you? That I do this for fun?” Sabre’s silky voice whispered against her target’s neck, causing a rush of goosebumps to prickle over his skin. She moved up a little, nipping at the shell of his ear and delighting in his shudder of revulsion. “Because if you do …” she continued, “then you’d be right! I fuckin’ love this shit!”

  Sabre chuckled darkly when the wendigo beneath her whimpered in fear. She wasn’t a sadist by nature and didn’t get off on pain if truth be told. But there was a certain satisfaction to be gained when watching a putrid excuse for a heartbeat sweat bullets and shit his pants. It had taken her two days and five speeding tickets to travel by car to her destination. It wasn’t really a hardship – she loved her car. Even though Carlisle took a huge percentage of her pay, killing for a living still made her a lot of money and she wasn’t afraid to indulge in a few luxuries. Namely full body massages by a six-armed Gegenees and her silver Maserati Alfieri. She loved the exceedingly expensive car with the supple leather seats and automatic butt warming. And boy, could her baby fly! Hence, all the speeding fines. Still, driving had been the most expedient way to get to the veil she needed to. Sure, there was a veil into Hell a lot closer, but it would have taken her into the fifth circle of Hell and she would have had to have travelled even longer within Hell itself in order to reach the inner most circle. No thanks. She would happily pay her speeding tickets if it meant she didn’t have to spend days smelling nothing but sulphur. Besides that, the smell lingered in her hair for weeks and even sometimes seeped into her leathers.

  So, here she was, outside the hidden entrance to the veil that opened up almost on Lucifer’s doorstep, straddling a wendigo who looked about ready to piss his pants any second. She’d had a few run-ins with Alba in the past and the Keeper of this particular veil was well within his rights to piss himself. Sabre didn’t have a problem with wendigos in principal, and she didn’t even have a problem with a little cannibalism under the right circumstances. How could she when Gage was one of her favourite people in the world? But she was a firm believer that a person’s meal should be dead first and not left hanging by their armpits, alive for days as they were eaten from the feet up. Alba had a particularly nasty habit of doing just that. The only reason he was still breathing right now was because he’d promised to go on the straight and narrow for his children’s sakes.

  “Open the veil, Alba,” Sabre crooned, running the tip of a blade down his sternum.

  Alba shook his head, grey eyes wide, “I can’t! You know I can’t! He’ll kill me!”

  Sabre sighed in disappointment, “Alba, Alba, Alba … I’m going to kill you.” She raised her knife and gripped the handle with both hands, making a show of bringing it close to her quarry’s heart. Alba shrieked, the sound incredibly high-pitch and sure to set off all the dogs in nearby neighbourhoods.

  “Wait! Wait, wait, wait,” Alba cried, tears streaming from his face and snot leaking from his nose.

  Sabre leaned back a little, not wanting any of the mess to touch her. Blood and organs she was okay with. Snot? Not so much. “Are you going to say something I want to hear?”

  The wendigo gulped and nodded, “I can’t let you in. Like, I literally can’t. I don’t have those kinds of powers. You know that. It was why I was given this gig in the first place. BUT –” he screamed as Sabre lifted the knife once more. “I can contact the King and ask him to let you in.”

  “Huh,” Sabre lowered the blade. “You know what? I didn’t even think of that. I was just going to cut you up into teeny tiny pieces until I got what I wanted.” Her casual comment was met with a bug-eyed stare and Sabre grunted, squeezing her knees together and squashing the air from Alba’s lungs. “Now, Alba. Don’t make me go back to Plan A.”

  Alba nodded quickly, slowly digging in his pockets for his phone. Sabre narrowed her eyes but didn’t question how the mobile phone was able to dial between realms. No doubt it had been magicked by a wizard. Alba stuttered a few pathetic words before Sabre lost her patience and snatched the phone, “Lucifer. It’s me. I need in for a chat.”

  Silence was all that could be heard for a few heartbeats before a deep voice replied; “Fine. But leave the wendigo in one piece. He’s proving useful.”

  Lucifer hung up before she could say anything else and she handed the phone back to Alba along with a sharp slap to his face. “Have you been good, Alba?”

  “Yes!” Alba screamed. “I haven’t eaten anyone alive in years. I promise!”

  Sabre eyed him for a few more seconds before moving off him. “You better be telling me the truth. If I found out you’ve eaten someone against their will while their heart is still beating, not even Lucifer will be able to save you,” she warned, meaning every word.

  Alba nodded frantically and Sabre turned her back on him. The wendigo was no threat to her. Almost immediately, the air around her began to turn electric, causing the hair on her arms to stick up. No doubt, the hair on her head was likewise standing at attention, but she chose to pretend otherwise. A blurry doorway began to appear in front of her, the veil looking almost like a lace curtain waving gently in a non-existent breeze. Stepping through the doorway between different planes of existence was always extremely underwhelming. It was just like stepping through any old door, except it was accompanied by a happy little tingle. The stone path she found herself on led to a trendy red door attached to a two-storey stone house. The door opened just as she stepped onto the welcome mat. Yes, the Devil had a welcome mat.

  “Sabre, to what do I owe the pleasure?” the man himself asked.

  Sabre looked up in awe at the hottest being in Hell. Lucifer was one very sexy angel; dark hair, ivory eyes, and a body any pro swimmer would be proud of. Why then, did his sexiness seem a little less than the last time she had seen him? For some reason, she found herself comparing Lucifer’s white eyes to the incredible yellow of Brax’s – and finding them lacking. Shaking off her crazy thoughts, Sabre boldly stated her mission; “I came to ask if you have a personal stake in the downfall of the line of Cerberus. Did you kill King Maliq?”

  Lucifer looked genuinely surprised and Sabre breathed out in relief. She had known the other angel for years and had always liked him. They had a lot in common – what with being angels perceived as fallen from Grace – as well as being handed a couple of shitty deals in life. After nearly fighting each other to the death in an epic battle fit for tomes, they had fallen into an easy truce and a genuine friendship. Sabre had stressed during her entire journey here over the possibility that Lucifer was behind the hits. But despite her instincts to the contrary, she was still duty-bound to seek out answers from the man himself. For more than one reason.

  “What the actual fuck, Sabre?” Lucifer growled, blocking the entrance into his home.

  He was the only angel she knew who could growl like a shifter and Lucifer didn’t need to say more in order for her to know she was standing on shaky ground. They might have been friends, but he was still the freakin’ devil. Taking a deep breath, she humbled herself a little, “I’m sorry, Lucifer. But I just had to be sure. I didn’t really think you were involved but my intel led me here, and, well …”

  Lucifer stared at her for a moment, his white eyes staring right through her. And they could, Sabre knew. Lucifer’s unusual – and a little disconcerting – pearl-like irises were able to peer into any being’s soul and judge the goodness in their hearts as well as any wickedness they may have lived throughout their lifetime. Hell’s angel was judge, jury and executioner. Hell’s angel was really fucking cool, Sabre thought. Thinking of his powers, Sabre felt a small flicker of envy which she ruthlessly squashed. Her latent abilities also held dominion
over the soul and being in the other angel’s presence was a stark reminder of that.

  Seemingly satisfied with whatever he found lurking beneath her surface, Lucifer gestured for Sabre to enter his humble abode and to take a seat in the comfy-looking brown leather chair in his living room. Lucifer curled himself up like a damn kitten into the corner of the matching three-seater lounge. “Why would I want to kill King Maliq? He was a good man and an even greater King,” Lucifer stated. “We were always on friendly terms. I admit, I was quite disappointed when he took a one-way ticket up top instead of joining me here. I don’t think we’ll have the same problem though will we, my pretty little killing machine?” Lucifer cooed in her direction.

  Sabre shook her head. The angel and King of Hell was an incurable flirt. Still, he was an honest one and she had no doubt where she would be spending eternity when her time came. Looking around her at the casual elegance of Lucifer’s living room, she couldn’t say she was disappointed. She was certain Hell knew how to throw a party unlike the feathery team of snobs upstairs. Lucifer chuckled and she glared at him, “Stop checking out my soul. It’s creepy as fuck. Makes me feel naked.”

  Lucifer’s smile revealed even white teeth and cute as pie dimples in his cheeks. He waggled his black eyebrows, “Do you want to be naked?”

  Sabre laughed, picking up a pillow from the chair and throwing it at him. “No! Will you quit trying to get into my pants? I’m on a serious mission here.”

  Lucifer lounged back, at ease in his own domain. “Ah, yes. You’re working for the new king now. The middle brother isn’t it? Abraxis? Can you imagine marrying into that royal line and having to birth triplets?” Lucifer shuddered.

  Sabre wasn’t too proud to admit that she shuddered a little too. The line of Cerberus always bred true, with the King in power producing triplet sons no matter who the Queen was, or which brother happened to be ruling at the time. Sabre couldn’t imagine carrying around one parasite for twelve months, let alone three at the same time. Considering it was a moot point, Sabre pushed the gruesome thoughts from her mind and addressed Lucifer’s last question; “Yes, Abraxis currently sits on the throne. He hired me to seek out the hidden threat who is slowly wiping out his family one at a time. I’m starting with Maliq and it led me straight to Hell.”

  “How so?” Lucifer asked, bluntly.

  “I found a witness if you can believe that. A spotter. It seems the person that took out the hit hired a third party to do their dirty work. A being with red eyes,” Sabre divulged, keeping her own eyes on the lethal man in front of her.

  “Minions have red eyes,” Lucifer grunted.

  “I know. Hence, my presence in your humble abode,” Sabre said.

  Minions were strange little creatures. They weren’t demons, couldn’t shapeshift, didn’t sprout wings, and were completely carnivorous. They were only about one metre tall, completely hairless with red eyes and extremely sharp, pointy little teeth. Their teeth also happened to be in multiple rows, just like a great white shark. They came in all different shapes and orientations with some standing on two legs, while others ran on four. Some had tails and some had forked tongues, while others had webbed hands and feet instead of opposable thumbs. In Sabre’s expert opinion; they were creepy as fuck. Lucifer seemed to hold a strange affection for the little critters. They couldn’t speak in any language she knew but they chittered quite well. Lucifer had no problem understanding them. He was also the only being in existence who could command them. They would literally walk off a cliff if Lucifer snapped his fingers in their direction, which was why Sabre had to check it out.

  “It wasn’t a minion,” Lucifer finally stated. His words were firm and held no hint of a lie.

  Picking up yet another pillow – and why did the man have so many throw pillows?! – Sabre placed it over her head and proceeded to scream into it. She finally got her first break and now she was staring back at a brick wall. She had no idea what she was going to do now. She –

  “Are you going to keep smothering yourself or do you want to pull up those big girl panties I know you’re wearing?”

  Lucifer’s voice snapped her out of her self-flagellation, and she lowered the pillow only to glare at him, “I’ll have you know, nothing but silk will work underneath these leather pants. Too much butt sweat.” Sabre really shouldn’t give him any ammunition but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Lucifer brought out the playful side of everyone.

  “Silk? What colour?” Lucifer leered. Thankfully, he quickly moved on, “There is one other being in Hell that has red eyes,” Lucifer pointed out.

  Sabre frowned, her brain working overtime before it hit her, “Oh, come on.” Lucifer snickered, his hair as glossy and as black as a raven’s wing, ruffled appealingly with the movement. “I hate those things,” Sabre whined.

  That caused Lucifer to laugh outright, “I know! Remember that time it –”

  “I remember!” Sabre snarled, “And don’t push our friendship by bringing it up again.” Lucifer continued to chuckle a little but mercifully kept his trap shut. Sabre took a precious few moments to relax back into her chair, knowing such opportunities were few and far between. “Who would be able to control one?” she finally asked.

  Lucifer’s response was prompt, “Only their master.”

  Sabre rolled her eyes. She knew that. She had been angling for a list of names but Lucifer couldn’t help but be obtuse at times. “And who might that be?”

  “I’ll make some enquiries. But Sabre, I honestly don’t believe anyone in Hell has a personal stake in wanting to dethrone the Cerberus line. Especially the higher-ups. Why would they? Any demon who commands such a creature is already a ruler in their own right.”

  “The individual rulers of the Seven Circles of Hell, right?” Sabre sought clarification.

  “That’s right. As well as their second in commands. And although I am one of them, I am most definitely not it!” Lucifer threw his hand up in the air like a goof before continuing on, “And nor is Alexis,” he added, mentioning his second by name. “Abaddon wouldn’t either. The man hates them even more than you. I’ll check with the others. But Sabre … I honestly think you’re looking at an internal problem,” Lucifer’s white eyes were earnest on hers.

  Sabre sighed, “Yeah. I think that too. But my intel led me here, so … Besides, someone somehow managed to wrangle one of those slippery beasts to do their dirty work. Looks like Purgatory isn’t the only realm with internal issues.”

  Lucifer’s handsome visage darkened into planes of anger, “Solid burn, Sabre,” he acknowledged. “And something that will be rectified. I assure you.”

  “Thanks, Luca,” Sabre fell back on his nickname, reminding him of their shared history and friendship. The sardonic quirk of his lips let her know he was well aware of her intentions.

  Still, he rose when she did and held out a hand, “I’ll update you as soon as I can. And you’ll do the same for me, won’t you Sabre?”

  Sabre squeezed the hand in hers, feeling the thrum of power, “You have my word.” Lucifer’s white irises glowed bright and blinding for a split second before fading away. Sabre didn’t bother saying anything else as she stepped back through the veil between their two worlds. After all, what more was there to say? She had just made a deal with the Devil.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Brax gave the magically concealed door in front of him a solid knock with his closed fist. The glamour work was good, he acknowledged. He doubted he would have seen the hidden entrance if he hadn’t been told what to look for. But then again, now that he looked at the building, he realised the scale was a bit off. It was smaller than it should have been on the upper level and there was a distinct lack of windows. However, given the derelict appearance of the rundown warehouse, and also what the ground floor area was used for, he didn’t think there were too many people who would come looking for a non-door. He couldn’t hear any sounds from the interior and figured there was likely a sound barrier in place in addi
tion to the false façade. Which was why he was so startled when the flat, concrete wall in front of him suddenly swung inward.

  Sabre was standing in the now open doorway. And she was holding a freakin’ machete. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. He may have only known the woman for ten days now, and though she was perhaps the biggest conundrum he had ever met, one thing he knew with certainty was that violence ran through her veins. Once upon a time she may have been destined for different things – for softer things. But that angel was long gone and he couldn’t say he really cared. For some reason, the woman standing in front of him with the ten-inch blade, fierce frown, and tight leather really did it for him.

  “Brax?” Sabre asked, machete lowering even as her fabulous plum eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Brax snorted out a laugh. Sabre’s welcome left a lot to be desired, but he found himself smiling and relaxing against the door jamb, “Looking for you.”

  She narrowed her eyes, glancing behind him suspiciously, “How did you find my secret lair?”

  “Secret lair?” Brax shook his head, “Sabre, you live above the place where you partake in illegal cage fights. Plus, it’s owned by your best friend. Not exactly secret.”

  Sabre huffed, “He’s not my friend. I am an assassin. A killing machine. I don’t have friends.”

  Brax barely refrained from rolling his eyes, “Of course you don’t. Family then,” he offered.

  Sabre’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t have family either.”

  “Oh? So what is Jinx?” he challenged.

  Sabre huffed, the sound decidedly derisive, “A pain in my butt is what she is.”

  Brax found himself grinning, “Yeah, that sounds like family to me.”

  A small, genuine smile escaped Sabre’s stoic facade and Brax found himself mesmerised by the tiny crack in the assassin’s armour. He cleared his throat, “Can I come in?”