Devilish Mate: Claimed By Lucifer Book Two

by Briggs, Elizabeth;

  Recollection came back to me. The bar. The gargoyles. Belphegor.

  “Zel?” I could only manage one-word questions, and my voice was hoarse. I tried to look around, but my eyeballs ached. I couldn’t see her.

  "Not here."

  Fuck. Had they taken her somewhere else? What if she was dead?

  I grimaced against the fear and the aches in my body as I struggled to sit up. I couldn't do anything about Zel now. I had to focus on saving myself and my son. What I really needed was a drink, something to wet my throat. Hair slicked to my forehead, and tendrils of it were stuck with sweat to the back of my neck. The floor beneath me jostled again, and I groaned as my head bumped against the metal wall.

  “We’re traveling through the desert," Belial said. "Some sort of truck.”

  "Nevada?" I asked.

  "Don't think so."

  My arms were heavy, and I glanced down at the strange weight. A silver cuff hung around each wrist, like an old-fashioned manacle, only I wasn’t chained to anything or otherwise bound. Each cuff was perfectly seamless except for a spot where chains could be added, with no obvious way to open it.

  “Like our new accessories?” Belial asked, his tone laced with irritation.

  "What are they?" They didn’t look so bad. I shook one wrist experimentally.

  Belial rolled his head against the corrugated inside of the moving truck. “They null our powers."

  I paused. “No powers?”

  "He shook his head. "And they’re impossible to get off. I’ve tried.”

  “Fuck.” There wasn’t really another word for it, and my throat still hurt. But at least in this sitting position, some sort of breeze fanned across me. It was a warm one, but moving air was better than being suffocated in heat. I tried to reach for my wings, or any of my angelic powers, but it was like being human again. There was just nothing there.

  I studied my son as he leaned back against the metal wall. Sweat creased his brow and his dark hair hung limp. A ragged tear ran up the side of his gray t-shirt. His eyes were exhausted but wary and alert. If he'd gotten injured, he'd already healed it.

  It was my fault he was in this mess at all. For years he'd lived a quiet life running his bar, and I'd ruined all that.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “For getting you caught up in this."

  He gave me a wry smile. “I’m not mad at you. Though this kind of shit is precisely the reason I’ve stayed out of the supernatural world the last few centuries.”

  I nodded. There weren’t any more words to express my regret.

  We sat in silence for a while, the truck speed seeming to be steady, the road more or less smooth, the temperature constant. When things showed no sign of changing, I decided I might as well continue my plan of reconnecting with my son. We might not have much time left, after all.

  “Tell me what happened with your father.” I had a general idea, but those memories weren’t making themselves super clear yet. I needed to know what I was up against before I could mend the rift between our family.

  Belial lifted his eyebrows as if surprised by my words. “There’s not much to tell.”

  I lifted my shoulders in a small shrug. “Then it won’t take long to fill me in. It’s not like we’ve got anything else to do but kill time back here."

  He tilted his head back and stared off into space, his face hard. I thought he was going to ignore my request, when he finally said, "After you died as Persephone, Damien decided to stay in Faerie.”

  Damien. My middle son. Half-fae. Half-Fallen. Once I got out of this mess, I would find him next. "Why?"

  Belial spread his hands. “What can I say? We blamed Father for your death. All your deaths. For the curse itself. But when you died that time, it hit us hard. As Persephone you lived a long time, and we had a…” He dropped his voice, looking away. “We had a real family for a while."

  My chest tightened at his words. “I’m sorry. This has been so hard on you boys.”

  He shot me an exasperated look. “I’m thousands of years old. Hardly a boy.”

  I'll admit, it was strange calling this man my son, when he was centuries older than my current body. But at the same time, I had memories stretching back to when he was born. I vaguely remembered holding him in my arms as a baby. Damn, he'd been a fighter even then. Fighting sleep. Refusing to do anything we asked. Being way too smart and stubborn for his own good. I closed my eyes as memories of a brown-eyed, dark-haired toddler glaring up at me in defiance made me smile.

  I turned that smile on Belial. “Ask any mother. You’ll always be boys to me. My boys.”

  He shook his head, his mouth set in a tight line, but he knew better than to respond.

  I gestured for him to keep talking. "What happened after Damien moved to Faerie?"

  "The short version?" Belial asked, with a dark smirk. "I let my ego get too big and thought I could take Father down." He let out a harsh laugh. "I led an uprising against him to take the throne of Hell. As the oldest of the Nephilim, I had them on my side, along with some Fallen and demons too. But I failed, and I was cast out of Hell. I’ve been laying low on Earth ever since."

  I nodded slowly as I listened. "Nephilim?"

  "People like me. Half human. Half angel or Fallen."

  "Right." I struggled through my memories of the time, but they were so vague. "Where was I during all this?"

  "You hadn't been reborn yet."

  That would explain why I had no memories of that battle. I did vaguely remember arguing with Lucifer in Hell over Belial's exile, but it had been years after the fact. I'd fought for Lucifer to pardon Belial, but he'd refused. He'd said too many lives had been lost in the uprising, and an example had to be made. He couldn't simply let our son try to overthrow him and claim the throne of Hell without some sort of punishment. Besides, if it had been anyone other than our son, the punishment would have been death. Exile was Lucifer being lenient. I'd argued that Belial had been punished enough, but Lucifer wouldn't budge unless Belial made some sort of formal apology or reparations, which naturally Belial refused to do. And now here I was, centuries later, still trying to fix this mess.

  Stupid, stubborn men. I loved them, but sometimes they were useless without a woman making sure shit actually got done.

  There was something else too. Something I'd said in that argument with Lucifer about how Belial had lost something... No. Someone.

  "You lost someone you loved in the uprising, didn't you?" I asked.

  "Yes." He growled and turned his head away. "Tatra. One of Father's many casualties. Something I've never forgiven him for."

  "I'm sorry." I felt for him, I truly did, and I knew how hard it would be to lose the person I loved. But I also understood Lucifer's position. Just like now, Lucifer had been forced to defend his throne. I'd been miserable about losing Belial, but I'd stood by Lucifer's punishment because our son had to be held accountable for his actions.

  I blew out a soft sigh. “That was a very long time ago. Don’t you think it’s time to see if things could be worked out between you and your father?”

  “No,” he said flatly, and there was no room for argument in his tone.

  I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from arguing further. I sensed if I wanted to bring my family back together, I needed to tread carefully to avoid scaring Belial off completely. Besides, we needed to get out of this situation first. I had no doubt Lucifer was already looking for us, but I wasn't going to sit around and wait for rescue. If there was a way for us to escape, we'd take it.

  The truck turned and bounced a couple of times before the thin squeal of brakes being applied sliced through the air in the box-container we were in. Belial scooted in front of me to face the back door, his jeans scraping in the grit as he moved. I couldn’t see his face, but I grasped his upper arm loosely as we sat in silence, the anticipation building as we waited.

  After several long minutes, there was a grinding noise of bolts being released and the door burst open. I got a
quick view of a dark sky hung with stars before two huge gargoyles with stone skin jumped into the container and grabbed Belial. My son shouted and fought as he was ripped from my hold. They dragged him outside and flung him unceremoniously to the ground, then grabbed me and did the same before I could even react.

  We were in the middle of the desert, the moon lighting the vast, open space. Nothing but sand in every direction, other than our convoy of trucks. The land was eerie in its paleness, and a chill rippled over my skin. The sun had gone, and the air grew colder by the second now that we weren’t insulated inside the moving truck. As an angel, the cold bothered me more than it had before. If I'd had my powers, I could have used light to warm myself, but the cuffs prevented that. At least Belial would be fine—as half Fallen, he would barely feel the cold, just like the other demons here.

  I quickly scanned the area. There were at least thirty people around us, and most looked like fighters. I spotted Belphegor barking orders, and beside her was a gorgeous woman with flame-red hair. Nemesis. Archdemon of the imps...and the one behind the plot against Lucifer. According to Belial and Lilith, anyway.

  Then Gadreel—Adam—emerged from another truck, and cold fear slid down my spine, mixed with molten rage. I watched him approach without shrinking back, hatred coiling tightly inside me like a snake waiting for its moment. I was going to kill that asshole for everything he'd done to me and my family over the years. I burned with the desire to take him down, but when I reached for my powers, I felt nothing.

  Damn. I couldn't do anything with a swarm of armed gargoyles surrounding me and my son, keeping us in the dirt, forcing us to kneel. Adam had all of his strength and powers as a Fallen, and Belial and I were in magic-blocking cuffs. Plus, I still didn’t know where Zel was.

  "Hello, Eve," Adam said, as he towered over me. In this life as Gadreel he had sandy blond hair and blue eyes, with a handsome, boy-next-door face that concealed the monster within. "I'm so glad we're together again."

  I glared up at him, even though I was terrified. For myself. For my son. "There's no 'together.' You kidnapped me. What do you want?"

  Adam's grin grew wider. "For once it's not you I want, but your son. Although I'll gladly have you too."

  I glanced at Belial, truly afraid now. What did they want with him?

  Before I could ask, some of the gargoyles shackled my ankles with more of those cuffs, and then attached some silver chains to my ankles and my wrists. They did the same to Belial at my side, and then the chains were attached to the truck. I tried fighting against them, using my angelic strength, but the metal was magic and resisted all our efforts. Made by the fae, I remembered vaguely.

  “What are you doing?” I asked the question without expectation of reply, but Adam met my gaze, his eyes amused.

  He gestured at some of the soldiers, who were pitching tents behind him. “Setting up camp for the night. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow."

  I glanced behind us at the truck. I’d almost have been more comfortable sleeping in the box, locked in, away from the man who lived to kill me. If only I had Morningstar, but I hadn't seen any sign of it since the battle.

  "Did you kill Zel?” I kept my words hard and emotionless, even though they felt like they were ripped out of my chest.

  "No, of course not," Adam said, and the flicker of emotion in his voice surprised me. “Azazel and I were friends for a long time. We fought side by side, had each other’s backs…” He straightened and grinned at me in the darkness. “She's decided to join us in our fight against Lucifer."

  "What?" I shook my head. "She would never betray Lucifer. Or me."

  "See for yourself." He grabbed my arm and yanked me to a standing position, so I could see over the front of the truck. On the other side of it stool Zel, her dark hair tied back, her daggers strapped to her side. She spoke with a green-haired man with pointed ears—a fae—who looked vaguely familiar, though I couldn't place him. When she saw me looking at her, she scowled and walked away.

  Adam laughed as he threw me back in the dirt. "You don't know the depth of loyalty and camaraderie between us. Or her secret hatred of Lucifer. I knew she'd be easy to turn."

  My heart pounded with the knowledge Zel was still alive, but I couldn't believe she would turn against us. She'd always been loyal. Always.

  Belial turned around to scan the horizon. “Are we where I think we are?”

  Adam looked pleased with Belial for noticing. “Yes, we’ll arrive tomorrow. Lucifer’s minions are already there, but it shouldn't be a problem." He left us in the sand and disappeared inside one of the larger tents. Belphegor joined him a few seconds later.

  “Where are we?” I asked, turning to my son for answers.

  Belial adjusted his position and rested his hands on his knees. “We’re in the middle of Palestine. Near the Tower of Jericho.” He gave me a level look. “Where Pestilence is sealed.”

  Fear spiked in my heart. Lucifer was right. Adam and the Archdemons were planning on releasing the Four Horsemen, even knowing it could set off the apocalypse. Maybe that's what they wanted. “Why do they need us here? Or rather, you?”

  “They need my blood to open the tomb where Pestilence is currently sealed."

  "Your blood?" My brow furrowed as I ran through my murky memories of Eve's past. "Lucifer said the Horsemen were sealed away by him, Archangel Michael, the fae king Oberon, and me."

  "Yes, you—as Eve." Belial blew out a long breath as he tried to get comfortable on the hard ground. "Each Horsemen is hidden in a different realm, with Pestilence here on Earth, War in Heaven, Famine in Faerie, and Death in Hell. To unlock them, the Archdemons need someone who meets two criteria." He ticked them off on his fingers. "First, they have to be descended from one of the people who sealed the tomb. And second, they have to have been born in the realm the Horsemen was sealed in."

  "Sounds complicated," I muttered.

  "Complicated on purpose," Belial said. "You don't want any random person to be able to release the Four Horsemen."

  "Good point."

  "So to unlock Pestilence, they need a human born on Earth, with the blood of one of the original four." Belial spread his tattooed arms wide. "Since you're no longer Eve, that leaves me."

  I ran through my memories—yes, Damien had been born in Faerie, and Kassiel in Hell, but Belial I'd had on Earth. I wasn't sure about how many children Michael and Oberon had, but they'd likely been born in Heaven or Faerie, not here.

  And I'd led Adam and the Archdemons right to my son.

  Fury and fear spiked up my throat, and my hands shook as I glared at the tent where Adam and Belphegor had disappeared inside. I had to stop them—from releasing Pestilence, and from using Belial's blood to do it.

  Adam had hurt me far too many times. There was no way I’d let him hurt my son.

  21

  Hannah

  After an uncomfortable night where Adam did little more than throw a blanket over me—and only then so I didn’t die prematurely in the cold night air—I’d woken up with stiff muscles and was already beginning to overheat in the unrelenting desert sun. Our captors gave us some granola bars and water, let us relieve ourselves, and then threw us back into the truck without ceremony. Belial tried to fight back against them, but Belphegor used her sleep powers to knock him out, and I decided to save my energy. Resolve burned low in my gut as they slammed the door shut, locking us inside.

  The relentless forward motion of the truck and the low grumble of the engine, combined with the warmth of the day, almost rocked me gently to sleep. I spent the morning exhausted and dozing, curled up next to my son. Needless to say, this was not the reunion I'd been hoping for.

  We awoke when they threw us some moist sandwiches, which we greedily chomped down. They were terrible, but we needed our strength.

  "When we stop again, we need to try to escape," I said to Belial once the truck started moving again.

  His laugh was harsh. "Sure. With no weapons and no powers. Ag
ainst dozens of supernatural soldiers and two Archdemons."

  "We have to do something." I sighed and leaned back, but couldn't get comfortable. "We can't let them awaken Pestilence."

  Belial rubbed his chin, his dark stubble growing more pronounced while in captivity. "All right. If we find a moment when they're distracted, we'll take it."

  "Maybe Zel will help us," I muttered. She couldn't have betrayed us. I refused to believe it.

  "Azazel?" Belial barked out a laugh. "No way. She'd never lift a finger to help me."

  Hours passed before the tone of the engine changed pitch and we rumbled to a stop. I drew away from Belial, instantly alert. Footsteps scuffed around the side of the truck and metal worked against metal again as the door at the back was unbolted. I watched for a chink of light appearing as it opened, but when it did I discovered it was already night, the vast black sky above us bright with stars.

  Adam smirked as the soldiers dragged me from the back of the truck, but I looked beyond him, my chest squeezing at the sight of a strange, conical ruin, the stone rugged and crumbling. A wave of something like déjà vu came over me as I stared at the Tower of Jericho, and then I remembered it as it had once been—a beautiful structure of mixed stones with a massive staircase, envied for its height and for the advances it represented. Now it was mere ruins. Humans couldn’t keep anything nice.

  Nemesis approached from one of the other trucks, her ruby-red lips curved into a malevolent smile as she flipped flame-colored hair over her shoulder. As she came closer, I took in her curves and skin-tight clothing. She hadn’t changed much over the years—wearing her allure like a favorite outfit. She'd always been jealous of me, I remembered. She hated me for becoming Lucifer's queen instead of her.

  She and Belphegor conferred quietly, while I watched Zel, who stood in the background with her hands on her hips, staring off into the distance. I felt sick at the thought that she'd betrayed us, and wished I could read her aura to see the truth. Damn these cuffs.

  A gargoyle guard nudged me forward, and I stumbled in surprise as our entire group began to move. As we approached the Tower, I saw people patrolling around it and on top of it. A dark shape flew overhead, blocking out the starlight, and I thought at first it was a raven, before realizing it was a black-winged Fallen. Did they not see us approaching?