His red eyes narrowed on her lips.
He wanted to taste them again. He wanted to shove his fingers into her fall of soft chestnut hair, grasp the back of her head and yank it back so he could devour her mouth and master her.
He would do just that.
Asmodeus reached for her.
His head turned, his stomach twisted, and his fingers shook. A wave of weakness crashed over him and he trembled and pressed his hand to his stomach. His heart raced.
“Asmodeus, what’s wrong?” Liora’s hand settled against his cheek and he lifted his wide eyes to hers.
“I do not know.” Admitting that sent shame sweeping through him and he cast his gaze away from her. He focused on his body, his pulse spiking and skin prickling. What was wrong with him?
His vision blurred and his stomach cramped, violently this time, turning in on itself until he came close to vomiting.
“You’re shaking.” Liora pressed her palm to his forehead. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
Asmodeus swallowed and nodded, and tried to focus again. It was harder now and took much of his remaining strength. That was fading fast, leaving him shaking worse than he had been barely a second ago.
“Dizzy. Nauseous. Weak. Ailing… I have never felt like this before.” He lifted his gaze to hers again and clutched his bare stomach. “At the tower… I felt strange… I feared I was growing sick.”
“Maybe you are sick.” She pressed her hand harder against his forehead and he caught the flicker of panic in amidst the concern brightening her eyes. “We need to take you somewhere safe and find a way to treat you.”
He nodded again. He didn’t want to be sick. He didn’t like this feeling of weakness invading him.
She rose to her feet and offered her hand to him. He refused to take it and lumbered onto his feet, staggered a few steps down the hill, and finally found his balance. A growl slipped free of his lips and he straightened to his full height, unwilling to let whatever was affecting him get the better of him. He was not weak. He was strong, powerful, and immortal.
He would defeat this sickness.
Liora came to stand opposite him and grasped both of his hands in hers. She looked up at him, her fine eyebrows furrowed with the concern that shone in her eyes, and gave him a short smile.
“We’ll get you better. Just… trust me… okay, Asmodeus? Trust me.”
He wasn’t sure he knew how to trust because he had never tried to place that sort of faith in anyone before, but he was willing to try for her. He nodded and she closed her eyes, and sudden warmth flooded his hands and raced up his arms. He tried to take them away from her but she tightened her grip until it felt as if she was branding his bones with fire.
The dark countryside disappeared and a pale room took its place, filled with elegant matching furniture.
Asmodeus glanced around the expansive living room. It was light and airy. Was this Liora’s home?
“What the hell are you doing here?” The male voice crashed into his ears a split-second before a fist slammed into his jaw, snapping his head to his left and knocking him off balance. His head turned violently and he stumbled, reaching blindly for something to grab to stop himself from hitting the polished wooden floor. The male growled again. “Get behind me, Liora.”
Liora ignored that command and held on to Asmodeus’s wrists, keeping him upright.
She had betrayed him.
Asmodeus snarled and tore free of Liora’s grip, and came to face a male he hated with every drop of blood in his body.
Apollyon’s blue eyes flashed in warning and his black wings erupted from his bare back. The male beat them hard and slammed into Asmodeus, sending him flying backwards against the cream wall. He tried to evade the vicious swing of Apollyon’s right hook but he wasn’t quick enough in his weakened state. The male’s fist smashed into his mouth and blood flooded it.
Asmodeus growled and exposed his bloodied fangs, his anger rising and obliterating the weakness that had been invading him, driving it to the back of his mind.
“Apollyon,” Liora snapped and the large black-haired male paid her no heed as he pushed her behind him.
Apollyon sent his loose black cotton bottoms away, replacing them with his gold-edged black armour and Asmodeus hated him all the more.
Before him stood a completed version of himself, a male worthy of the notice of the female bravely advancing on them. He despised Apollyon for having what he lacked and therefore being able to possess what he could never dream of having.
Liora.
Asmodeus’s black claws sharpened and he swung at Apollyon. The male easily evaded the weak blow, grasped his shoulders, and shoved him hard against the wall, pinning his wings and knocking the wind from him.
Defeated.
How the demons would laugh if they could see him now. Weak and pathetic. Unable to fight. On the verge of collapse.
Only the wall and Apollyon’s unforgiving grip was keeping him standing.
“What are you doing here, Wretch?” Apollyon shoved him harder against the wall, his fingers pressing deep into his shoulders, and narrowed his swirling blue gaze on him. The male’s long black hair was wild and ruffled. He had been asleep. This was not Liora’s home.
She had brought him to Apollyon.
He had grown weak, sick, and she had taken it as a chance to bring him here to this male. Why? Because she desired him to see his failings? She had asked him to trust her. He would never trust her again.
Asmodeus’s lips peeled back off his fangs and he glared as he spit blood at his superior twin.
Apollyon released one of his shoulders to wipe the blood off his face and Asmodeus snarled and struggled again. He managed to crack his left fist across Apollyon’s jaw, knocking the angel away from him. It cost him.
His head turned, the world wobbled out of focus, and his balance left him.
“Asmodeus,” Liora shouted and was there before him in an instant, shoving Apollyon aside and wrapping her arms around his chest to support him.
Asmodeus growled, pushed her away, and stumbled to his left. He hit a small white wooden table in the corner of the room and the china lamp on it toppled onto the floor and smashed. Asmodeus shot his left hand out, pressed it against the wall in front of him and braced himself, breathing hard as his stomach rebelled again and the terrible weakness returned.
“I made a vow to deal with you if you ever left Hell,” Apollyon said, his voice pure darkness and malevolence. “I will do just that.”
“No,” Liora barked and when Asmodeus looked over his shoulder, he found her standing between him and his twin, her arms outstretched and blocking Apollyon’s way to him. “Please… he’s sick.”
The petite blonde Asmodeus knew to be Serenity appeared in the doorway behind Apollyon, a cream satin robe covering her slender frame. She finished tying the belt to keep it closed and frowned at him and then Liora.
Apollyon straightened and advanced a step.
Liora tensed.
Asmodeus growled and bared his fangs.
If the male dared to lay a finger on her, he would use the last of his strength to protect her. He would not let the bastard harm her.
Apollyon’s blue gaze shifted from Liora, to him and then back again.
“Explain why you have brought this creature to me.” Malice dripped from Apollyon’s deep voice and Asmodeus hated how alike they sounded even though they had been raised in different realms.
“Do not tell him.” Asmodeus pushed away from the wall before him, turned to face his enemy, and leaned against the other wall beside him, using it for support and hating that he needed to.
Liora looked over her shoulder at him and he knew she wasn’t going to obey that order. Foolish woman. She might believe that telling Apollyon and her cousin why he was here would help them trust him, but in reality it would do the opposite. Apollyon would want to remove his head.
She drew in a deep breath, lowered her hands and flexed her fingers at
her sides. Her palms faced him and a tiny flicker of black, red and purple magic twirled in her hands, hidden from Apollyon and Serenity.
She would fight for him?
He pushed himself up until he was standing with only his right palm against the wall, and slowly straightened to tower behind her, eyelevel with Apollyon.
“The Devil sent him to take me to Hell, but he isn’t going to do that.” Liora’s voice didn’t wobble in the slightest and pride filled his heart. His little witch wasn’t afraid of Apollyon or her cousin. She would fight them if it came to it. “He wants to help me.”
“You believe him?” Serenity’s French accent strongly laced her English. “You are a fool… he is lying.”
“She is right, Liora. What reason do you have to trust his word? He is evil, despicable, and I have seen what he is capable of… he will deceive you given the chance. It will sweeten the satisfaction he will feel when he hands you over to his master.” Apollyon glared over her head at him and Asmodeus stared right back, his anger rising as each vicious word about him left Apollyon’s lips.
“If he is evil and despicable and takes pleasure from doing horrible things… then you are too… because all of that comes from you.” Liora tipped her chin up and squared her shoulders and Asmodeus grinned behind her, enjoying the brief flicker of shock in Apollyon’s eyes.
“Liora,” Serenity snapped and Liora held her left hand out to silence her.
“Stay out of this, Cousin.” Liora lowered her hand. “You want to know why I can trust him? He killed a nasty looking fallen angel to protect me when the Devil sent him to take me to Hell.”
Apollyon’s blue gaze shot to him. “Is this true?”
Asmodeus didn’t answer him. He lowered his gaze to the back of Liora’s head and fought off another wave of sickness. It was stronger this time and the room wavered so badly that he feared he would pass out.
When everything stopped whirling, Liora was before him, her hands against his bare chest, supporting him. The concern in her hazel eyes touched him deeply and his black eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t deserve such a tender, caring female.
“Please, Apollyon… he’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” Liora looked over her shoulder at the dark angel. “I didn’t know who else to bring him to.”
She hadn’t meant to betray him. She had brought him here because she had feared for him and had thought that Apollyon would know how to treat him, and she had known how he would react to it. That was why she had asked him to trust her.
Apollyon heaved a sigh, sent his armour and wings away, replacing them with the black loose bottoms he had worn before, and padded barefoot across the wooden floor to him.
Liora stepped aside.
Asmodeus bit back a growl when Apollyon roughly inspected him, checking his eyes, mouth, and throat and prodding his bare stomach.
Apollyon shoved him back against the wall. “He is hungry.”
The male stalked from the room, passing Serenity and heading into a dark area beyond an opening opposite Asmodeus. He returned with a clear plastic pack with some brown crescent-shaped items in it and threw it hard at Asmodeus. It hit him square in the face and dropped to the floor before he could catch it. Asmodeus growled at him.
Liora bent and picked up the pack of brown things, and frowned at them and then at him, and then at Apollyon.
“Hungry? Who doesn’t know when they’re hungry?” She looked back at him, an incredulous look on her face that he hated because it made him feel stupid.
He cast his gaze down to his boots and growled under his breath at her.
“Asmodeus has never left Hell. In Hell, he would never feel hunger or thirst, and would never feel the need to sleep. In the mortal world, he will.” Apollyon scoffed and Asmodeus looked up at him through his lashes, narrowed his gaze on him and snarled.
Apollyon grinned at him and Asmodeus wanted to rip it from his face. He was mocking him and making him feel like a fool, and he was doing it on purpose.
Asmodeus didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Liora.
He didn’t want her to think he was weaker than Apollyon and less intelligent.
A shadow of Apollyon.
“Why are you really here, Wretch? You might fool her, but you do not fool me. You are up to something and, in this world, I am king and you are nothing more than the court jester. Answer me, or I end you here and now.” Apollyon’s derisive tone cranked Asmodeus’s anger into the red.
Asmodeus shoved away from the wall and came to face him, using all of his remaining strength to keep upright, refusing to allow his twin to mock him in front of Liora and refusing to show any weakness.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he snapped and squared up to Apollyon, staring straight into his blue eyes. “If I wished it, I would be king of this realm and you would kneel at my feet. Remember that.”
Apollyon smiled and Asmodeus sensed the rise in his power. It swept over him, too much for him to handle in his weakened state, pressing down on him and making his knees threaten to give out. He would not allow it. He would not have Apollyon make a fool of him.
He would not unwillingly go to his knees.
“I will remember it… and I will remind you of it in a few minutes time when you pass out because you were hungry and thought you were sick.” Apollyon’s smile widened into a vicious grin. “I will drag you back to Hell where you belong.”
Asmodeus stepped back, edging towards a closed door that had many locks.
He glanced at Liora. She stared at him, disbelief still colouring her expression, mocking him as much as Apollyon’s words had been. Serenity stood a short distance behind her, her expression dark and threatening. His head turned again, spinning and sending him stumbling backwards. He was too weak to fight Apollyon and he wouldn’t stand here and let the male mock him and make a fool of him. He was no court jester. He was king.
King of Demons.
A king without a queen.
His gaze drifted to Liora and the look she still wore cut him to the bone. She thought him a fool. They all did. His fangs descended again and darkness rose within him, obliterating and crushing the weakness, the softer emotions he had foolishly allowed to take control of him because he had wanted her affection and attention. He didn’t need a queen.
“Burn in Hell,” Asmodeus barked, turned and grabbed the door handle. He yanked it open, breaking the locks, and stormed out of the apartment and down the dimly lit staircase.
“Asmodeus,” Liora called after him but he didn’t slow.
He didn’t need her.
He didn’t need anyone.
CHAPTER 6
Liora was madder than the March Hare.
She turned away from the staircase, stalked back into the pale spacious apartment, and glared at Apollyon.
“Have you been with him the whole day and night?” Apollyon said in his usual dark commanding tone that demanded an answer and she continued to stare at him, funnelling her fury into it so he could sense how angry she was with him. “Serenity has been worried sick… and you have been out with that wretch!”
“Don’t call him that!” Liora’s power curled around her fingers before she had even uttered a command to call it forth.
It swirled black and purple with flashes of red, a sign of her growing rage, and left her feeling invincible. If she wanted, she could put Apollyon on his backside before he could even attempt to defend himself. Serenity would be angry with her if she did such a thing though.
Liora found she didn’t care, but she wasn’t in the habit of making enemies of her friends.
She tamped down her anger and dialled back her power until magic lazily circled her hands, there if she needed it but not liable to spin out of control and harm her friends without her really desiring it. Whenever she lost her temper, her magic had a tendency to act without her consent. It was the danger of being in possession of such strong power, and something she’d had to live with ever since her parents
had died and she had gained their magic on top of hers.
She drew in a slow deep breath to calm it further, bringing it firmly under her control, and exhaled, releasing her tension with it.
“He has a name, Apollyon,” she said in a low voice. “He is not a creature or a wretch or something despicable. He has feelings.”
“There is evil in him. Great evil. I could feel it. Can you not feel it too?” Serenity whispered and Liora looked her way and then back at Apollyon where he stood closer to her.
“You’re right. There is evil in him, but there is also good. I have felt it.” She waited for Apollyon to say something but he remained quiet.
She stared at him, seeing the similarities between him and Asmodeus, but also the differences. It wasn’t just their eye colour and hairstyle that set them apart. It was everything and nothing at the same time. They weren’t as different as Apollyon wanted to believe, and he had shown that tonight. He wasn’t as good as he acted. Asmodeus wasn’t as evil as he acted.
“You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?” Liora took a step towards Apollyon. He opened his mouth and she didn’t give him a chance to voice the lie she could see coming. “Tell me the truth, Apollyon. You have seen the good in him.”
Serenity looked at her dark angel, a frown creasing her brow.
Apollyon closed his eyes and lowered his head, causing long strands of his mussed hair to fall down and caress his sculpted cheeks. “You are right. There is good in him, but that does not mean he is worthy of your trust.”
“He protected me when the Devil sent that angel to bring me to him. He killed him and light took the body. He did that to stop the Devil from having me.” She neglected to mention that Asmodeus had stated that he had done it because he wanted her for himself.
Her heart said to go to him before he left her. He needed her. He was weak and hungry, and she wanted to take care of him and make him strong again, and not just because she believed he could protect her from the Devil.
“Why does the Devil want you?” Serenity said and she shrugged.
Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 80