Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A slow,wicked smile spread on my face. All these thoughts had run through my head in a matter of seconds, and now I stared at him with the biggest shit-eating grin I could muster.

He narrowed his eyes the tiniest fraction, imperceptible unless one was watching him closely, which I was.

What do I get in return?I pushed along the mental line between us.

What?His energy was a whip across my senses.

While he exchanged some more chit chat with the other demon, I continued our silent communication.

You want me to play along and hide the fact that I’m your wife, your very human wife who tricked you, the mighty Azazel, into an embarrassing contract you can’t get out of. I’ll do it, but there’s a price for everything. What was it you said? Nothing in Hell is free except the illusion of kindness. I want something in return for my trouble, sweetheart.

It was disconcerting how he could carry on a conversation with someone, seemingly at ease and unperturbed, while his mental focus was directed at me, his power searing the edges of my mind. And that burning sensation got all the worse at my last volley, at the proverbial glove slapped across his face.

Your price, he snarled inside my head, is that I won’t string you up in my dungeon to be snacked on by the hellrats.

I’m tired of your threats,I hissed back. No, honey, if you want me to save your face in front of your friend here, you will agree to my demands, or you’ll find out just how fast I can retell your tale of woe and ruin your reputation.

Maybe I should have felt bad for holding his image on a knife’s edge like that, for playing on his fears and threatening to make him the laughingstock of Hell. Then again, he’d shown me time and again that he didn’t care about my fears or needs, that he didn’t give a shit whether I’d lose my mind in a gilded cage of isolation. He fully knew what loneliness would do to me, and yet he kept me cut off anyway.

Tit for tat, then. I would take a page out of his playbook and counter his cruelty with my own.

His voice echoed with rolling thunder in my head. What do you want?

Visits to Earth,I shot back. I don’t care how much you have to pay for them, but you’ll take me whenever I ask you, as often as I want.

There are limits,he replied with a growl. Physical limits for you and for me. You can’t stay too long, and you can’t visit too often.

Fine, then within those limits, as much as I desire. You’ll take me there, no tricks, no excuses.

Within reason. I do have a life and tasks that need my attention here.

I narrowed my eyes. All right, but you will not use that as an excuse to avoid taking me. You agree to facilitate my visits to Earth unless you are truly needed down here, for a task of real urgency or a commitment you cannot postpone. Using your work or personal appointments as a pretense to avoid taking me to Earth is not allowed.

I had the inkling that it was important to spell out my demands in as clear a way as possible, leaving him no space to wiggle out later. If the lore about demons and deals was even a bit true, then he’d have to abide by a contract made, in all its literality. If the words were too vague, he’d exploit that for sure.

Agreed.His mental voice sounded distinctly as if he were grinding his teeth.

I felt his attention fully shift to the other demon, and I hurried to add, One more thing.

The quicksilver in his eyes burned me as he brought his gaze back to me.

I want to move freely in your house.

His power scraped along my senses like cut glass over my skin. So you can get torn apart by inferni? His eyes dropped to the still bleeding wounds on my legs. Have you considered, in that impertinent, naive little head of yours, that keeping you in your rooms was a means of protection? If you’d stopped for one second and looked past your own impulsive ego, you might just have realized that not every perceived slight is an act of cruelty. And that traipsing around in Hell as a vulnerable human without powers makes you easy prey.

I sucked in a breath, my smug smile slipping. Damn if his words didn’t ring true. I hadn’t considered that, and it smarted. Then again—

And seeing as I am a lowly human without mind reading powers,I mentally spit at him, you could have just explained your reasoning to me to help my naive little head understand the situation. Being upfront with why you’re keeping me under lock and key would have gone a long way toward my acceptance of it.

I am not in the habit of having to explain obvious circumstances to shortsighted fools.He cast me a cold glance before focusing on his visitor again. It’s settled then. You’ll remain in your rooms unless I take you to Earth.

The fuck I will. I wrenched his attention back to me with my snarled riposte. If going out alone is too dangerous, you will provide me with protection. I don’t care whether that’s a hellhound or a demon bodyguard, but I will have someone or something at my disposal to help me move freely and safely through your house.

That,he said in my head, his voice a whispered menace, will be your final demand. I agree to your terms, and this negotiation is hereby completed.

Deal. I gave him the mockery of a smile.

Try it with less teeth,my love. A smoldering look from his hooded eyes. We don’t want our guest to think your supplication anything less than genuine, now do we?

Of course not, I clipped back, and modulated my smile into something less aggressive.

Oh, and one more thing.Azazel’s mental voice was a purr that stroked me in places threatening to purr back. On your knees.

Excuse you?

We have a deal. You’re my pet. Pets belong at their owner’s feet.

My nostrils flared.

Chop, chop.

I would murder him. Somehow. But because he was right, and I’d agreed to this bargain, I swallowed the insult to my pride and sank down to my knees, wincing at the pain in my legs.

His hand settled on my head the next instant, and warmth flowed from his touch. I gasped softly as I realized it wasn’t just the usual heat of his body, but his power running in rivulets over my skin, into my cells, fusing what was torn. A glance at the gash in my arm confirmed that my wounds were healing right before my eyes.

The throbbing of pain in my legs eased, vanished, and I couldn’t help sighing.

I wouldn’t thank him. Would. Not.

And yet, some of the involuntary gratitude I felt must have leaked out of my thoughts because his dark voice murmured in my head.

You’re welcome.

His fingers stroked over my scalp, and to my dismay I almost melted on the spot. I never had been able to resist the allure of a good head massage.

It wouldn’t do to leave my pet bleeding.

Aaaaaand there he went again, making me want to stab him.

Are those your favorite pants?I asked along our mental line.

I sensed his confusion and smiled sweetly just before I rubbed my still blood-streaked cheek against his leg. Human blood might not have shown on the dark red fabric, but the black goo of the things that had attacked me stained the pants just so.

He ran his nails over my scalp in a move not quite painful, but definitely not a caress either. You’re going to pay for that.

Out loud, he said, “I’m afraid Zoe here is in dire need of a bath and a change of clothes, so if you’ll excuse her, she’ll be heading to her quarters to wash up.”

It was amazing how he could sound both courteous toward his visitor and mildly threatening to me, with something as innocuous as an instruction to retreat to my suite.

He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating the other side of the hall. “Hekesha will escort you to the room, Lord Zaquiel. I’ll be joining you shortly.”

The other demon—Zaquiel—inclined his head and made as if to turn away. Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder. “Do bring your pet when you join us, Azazel. It’d be a shame to hide her.” His violet eyes gave me a once over. “I’d like to see her all cleaned up.”

Azazel’s fingers in my hair tightened just the slightest bit. “Certainly, my lord.”

Still kneeling on the floor, I watched the female demon—Hekesha—lead Zaquiel through an archway on the opposite side of the hall.

A heartbeat of suspended inertia and tense silence after they’d disappeared out of sight—and then Azazel had me up against the wall.

My back met the stone, and I uttered an oof, the breath rushing out of me. He’d moved so fast, I hadn’t even seen or felt him pull me up. Now his body pressing into mine held me pinned against the wall, all hard muscle and unmovable strength, his power a whisper of darkness with a bite.

“You,” he said, his face so close to mine I could see the iridescent silver in his eyes swirl in a way no human iris should be able to, “will regret this.”

I still had trouble catching my breath, but not from the impact of him pushing me against the wall anymore. It had to be a sign of impending madness that it was all I could do not to wrap my legs around his hips. God, but I wanted to.

Before I could ask him what part exactly I’d be so very sorry for—I could name a few things where I’d been pushing my luck in the past couple hours—he brought up his hand to stroke over my throat and muttered, “I was willing to let you go with a warning, make this a short lesson in humility and send you back to your rooms. By piquing the curiosity of our guest, however, you just bought yourself an extended time pretending to be my devoted pet. You will clean up, slip into something more appropriate—” his hand moved torturously close to the neckline of my tank top “—and then you’ll have the pleasure of serving me at our little get-together.”

I squirmed under his touch, my legs twitching with the urge to lift up and clasp him closer. The pulse ticking low at the apex of my thighs craved some more pressure, irritatingly so.

“And you better play your part perfectly,” Azazel continued in a silken murmur. “Or else our little bargain is null and void.”

I narrowed my eyes. That was a gauntlet thrown if I’d ever seen one. “You want a show?” I asked with a saccharine smile. “I’ll give you the performance of your lifetime.”

“Careful with that promise.” He raised a brow. “Considering I’ve lived for thousands of years, the bar is set high, my dear.”

Stepping away, he grabbed my arm and pulled me after him as he strode toward another archway leading away from the large hall. I scrambled to keep up and not do a full face plant. His pace brisk, he yanked me down the hallway, in another direction than the one I’d come from when I’d fled from the creatures.

As far as I could see, the walls were bare of the marks I’d left, which meant we must be yet in a part of his labyrinthian house that I hadn’t explored earlier.

When I stumbled and almost tripped, he grabbed me around my waist, slung me over his shoulder and walked on at a clipped pace.

“Hey!” I managed to wheeze while bouncing with his steps. “You don’t have to carry me like some ill-tempered barbarian. I can walk just fine.”

“Not fast enough,” he growled. “Zaquiel has requested your presence, and you will not displease him by wasting time. You do not keep a Fallen waiting.”

“Fallen?”

His answer came grudgingly, impatience clear in the tone of his voice. “One of the angels who fought and fell with Lucifer. The original demons.” His hand holding on to my thigh tightened. “As much as you enjoy poking at me, you better hold your tongue in his presence. He is not to be trifled with.”

And from the way they’d interacted and addressed each other, Zaquiel clearly outranked Azazel.

“Okay,” I wheezed. I had no intention of riling up a demon more powerful than Azazel who wasn’t contractually obligated to not kill me. There was rightful defiance, and then there was utter stupidity. I tried to steer clear of the latter.

A moment of silence while he kept carrying me in a rush.

“Just okay? What—no saucy comeback, no spiteful challenge?”

“Contrary to your impression of me,” I ground out, “I do have some sense of self-preservation.”

“Hidden underneath misguided pride and impulsive intractability,” he muttered.

I gasped. “That’s rich coming from the guy who’s too high-and-mighty to explain the basics of Hell to someone who’s never been here.”

I expected a snarly reply, instead he paused for a second, and I heard the click of a door opening. The next moment he carried me into a dimly lit room, kicking the door shut behind us, and strode on while I strained to make out my surroundings.

This wasn’t my suite.

And not just that, but I recognized the furniture from the day he’d brought me to Hell—we’d come through these rooms when we first entered the house.

Sure enough, the next room he carried me through was the one with the huge bed and seating area, the one with the balcony where he’d landed. He didn’t stop here, though. Without pause, he continued on to yet another room.

Torches flared up as he stepped inside, illuminating a cavernous room tiled in silver-veined black marble. A bathroom, its size and equipment on the upper end of luxury, glossy surfaces gleaming in the light of the flames.

He set me down and gestured at the enormous shower in one corner. It seemed big enough to accommodate fully extended wings, no glass enclosure, no curtain, just a step down into an area that was easily bigger than my shared dorm room in college.

I caught my breath and looked around. “Why didn’t you take me to my rooms?”

“Mine are closer.”

That yanked my gaze back to him. These were his quarters.

I tried to peer around him into what was his personal bedroom, but he snapped his fingers in front of my face.

“In there, now.” He pointed at the shower area. “And do not dawdle.”

I wanted to snap at him for being a presumptuous ass, but my words died a shameful death on my tongue when he stripped out of his shirt. I stared. And stared.

Godfuckingdammit, if there ever was perfection of the male form, it stood right there, limned by the glow of the fires as if the light itself wanted to lick him.

I understood that urge far better than I was comfortable with.

Built with just the right amount of bulk, his muscled form spoke to every intrinsically heterosexual part of my femininity, from the broad shoulders, massive pecs, ribbed abs to the tapered waist...and those arms. Good lord. Arm porn was a real thing, and his were a prime example. A dusting of dark hair covered his chest and trailed down over his abdomen, disappearing underneath the waistline like some sinful lure.

“You’ve got something there,” he said, tapping the corner of his mouth. “Looks like drool.”

That snapped me out of my embarrassing stare-a-thon like nothing else. “Puke is more like it,” I growled back. “And you better not plan on joining me in the shower.” Crossing my arms, I hoped the irritation in my voice hid my nerves. I certainly didn’t want him to see my sudden apprehension about the prospect of being naked in front of him. Or him in front of me. “We haven’t started our pretend play yet.”

“Why, my impulsive human, are you afraid you won’t be able to control your urges and ravish me?” His eyes gleamed, and he laid one hand over his heart. “How considerate of you to care about my honor.”

I glanced around in search of something sharp to stab him with.

“Never to worry,” he continued, “there will be plenty of time for you to act on your base desires later. You have five minutes to wash up.”

And with that, he left the bathroom, the door softly falling shut behind him.

I exhaled, releasing the tension that had locked my muscles. For a moment there, I’d thought—I shook my head, remembering Azmodea’s words. He’s not the sort to take what isn’t offered.

Okay, then. Okay. I blew out another breath and stripped out of my blood-soiled and torn clothes. If it was weird to stand butt-naked in Azazel’s personal bathroom, with him waiting just on the other side of the door, I totally didn’t feel it. Nope, not at alllllll.

I hurried into the shower area and fiddled with the controls until streams of water fell from the multiple heads in the ceiling. Thankfully, with Hell’s climate, it wasn’t a gush of ice-cold water that hit me, but a warm shower, like a summer rain.

I grabbed the bar of soap from the shelf and started lathering myself from head to toe, all the while replaying the events that led me here.

Had I actually managed to bargain with Azazel? Successfully? I still couldn’t believe it. Such a stroke of luck to discover his one weakness, and to use it to my advantage. Finally, the kind of leverage I needed to exert any amount of power, to level the scales between us just a little bit.

For however long that would last…

At least I’d gotten my two most important demands fulfilled. With our bargain ensuring he’d have to take me to visit Earth as much as I wanted, as well as allowing me freedom of movement within his house, the threat of mental death by boredom and isolation was officially off the table. I could breathe easier knowing I’d have some semblance of a life down here, rather than a semi-comfortable prison sentence.

I could work with that. Everything else would fall into place somehow.

Of course, there was the matter of my side of the bargain…

Now, if Taylor had been here, she’d have grabbed me by my shoulders and tried to shake some sense into me while yelling, “Have you lost your mind?”

Given that neither Tay nor anyone else with a lick of reason was here, though, I was alone with the embarrassingly eager part of myself that looked forward to my little charade with Azazel. Sometimes—okay, all too often—my good sense lost the fight to dangerous defiance, and I lived and breathed for a level of contrariness that was worrisome.

I knew what Azazel was doing. I recognized spite when I saw it. He wanted to put me in my place, punish me for my recalcitrance by making me uncomfortable in my role as his “pet.” Well, if he thought he could embarrass me and would see me cringe, he had another think coming.

I would show him up. I’d play my part so well, he’d be fooled right alongside that bigwig Zaquiel. He wanted to use sex as a means to fluster me? Oh, I’d fluster him. Right then and there, I swore I’d make him so hot under the collar, he’d blow steam even in Hell’s unrelenting heat.

The fragrance of the soap permeated the air, the same slightly spicy note I’d scented on Azazel, and I realized I would step out of this shower smelling like him from head to toe. Not that it affected me in any way.

Nope.

All clean, I shut off the water, rubbed myself dry with the huge fluffy towel hanging nearby, and wrapped it securely around me. It did a great job covering me from my chest down to below my knees, and I didn’t feel quite as exposed as I’d feared. My hair hung still mostly wet around my shoulders, but I hadn’t seen another towel large enough to wrap it up in. Steeling my spine, I opened the door to the bedroom.

His back turned to me, Azazel was in the process of pulling on a new pair of pants, and the one-second glimpse of his bare ass before the fabric covered it was enough to completely jumble my thoughts.

Heat flooded my already shower-warm skin, centered low in my abdomen with an irritating pulse.

It wasn’t fair. Such bitability should be prohibited.

“When you’re done admiring the view,” he said without sparing a glance at me while fastening his pants, “put that on.” He jerked his head at the bed.

Yanking myself out of my trance, I looked at the item he’d indicated.

Draped across the comforter lay a dress from my own wardrobe, and—likely not quite so incidentally—the most revealing piece of clothing I owned, aside from underwear, of course. Skin-tight, the blue sheath-style dress would mold to my body as if painted on, but not just that—it was mainly made of lace, see-through enough around the torso to grant enticing glimpses of anything underneath. It was meant to be worn with a decorative bra teasing through the lace, in a confident display of one’s own goodies at an opportunity that would invite such ostentatious eroticism…a bachelorette party, for example.

I’d never gotten up the nerve to actually wear it, and it had hung untouched in my closet for over a year.

“How did you—” I brushed my fingers over the filigree lace. “Did you run out and get this from my rooms just now?” Remembering the time it had taken to walk from his quarters to my suite that first day we’d arrived, I added, “Don’t tell me you kept this in here all this time.” I threw a salacious smile at him. “If you needed things of mine to sniff at and rub yourself on, my panties would be the more obvious choice, don’t you think?”

His gaze was molten as he raised a hand, and a towel appeared in his palm. “It’s called summoning. I can call on and materialize any object that is physically within my own estate and that I have seen before.” He threw the towel at me. “For your hair.”

I caught the towel before it hit me in the face and wrapped it around my head. “Nice trick,” I muttered, trying to stifle my envy.

Demon powers sure came in handy. Not that I wanted wings, or the ability to set my skin on fire, or heal wounds, or disperse a pack of bloodthirsty inferni-something creatures with a single word—okay, yes, fine, I did want all that. But hey, I could spontaneously mash up two sentences to create an epically embarrassing phrase in just the right situation, like that one time at the Target checkout when I struggled to pull my wallet out of my tote bag and my brain couldn’t decide between telling the cashier, “Hold on for a moment” and “Give me a minute,” so what I blurted out was, “Hold me for a minute,” so yeah, at least I had that going for me. Takes a special talent in the oral arts, that one.

Picking up the dress, I frowned. Checked the bed. Frowned some more. “Where,” I asked my devious demon, “is the bra?”

He didn’t even pause while shrugging into a new shirt, and the sight of his muscled torso in fluid motion temporarily stole my breath. “What bra?”

I cleared my throat. “This dress needs a bra. It’s almost completely see-through.” I demonstrated the level of transparency in the chest area by slipping my hand inside.

“I know.” He buttoned his shirt while regarding me with a glint in his eyes. “So?”

I breathed in and out through my nose, steadying myself. “Summon me one of my bras.” Realizing something, I added in a voice that was rapidly losing any steadiness I had managed, “And panties!”

The lace pattern of the dress did get denser below the hips, to the point the material wasn’t see-through anymore where it covered the butt and crotch area, but still.

“You seem to labor under the impression that you have any demands left to make.” He closed the distance between us with sinful grace and sensual menace, his fingers grabbing the knot in the towel wrapped around my body. “Let me disabuse you of that notion.”

He pulled just enough that the knot loosened just so, and I clasped the edges of the towel to hold it in place, my heart racing.

“Zaquiel is waiting. There is no time for your compulsive obstinacy. You either put this dress on yourself in the next minute, or I will put you in it.” His expression clearly said he preferred the latter.

It should have sounded like a threat. Really. Any woman with two brain cells left would have taken it as one. Apparently, I had less than that because for a second there, I considered resorting to the kind of defiance that would immediately get me option number two.

Glaring at him with what I hoped was haughtiness—and not the unbidden arousal I was trying to keep at bay—I gritted out, “Fine,” turned on my heels and stormed off into the bathroom.

The door closing behind me almost cut off his chuckle. Almost.