Chapter 46: Lana

I 'm having a very late breakfast with Puck – scrambled eggs and cherry tomatoes for me, just cherry tomatoes for him – when Ashtaroth walks in, resplendent in full-plated armor, his crown and heavy cloak on as well.

"Mmm, are you my dessert?" I give him my best lecherous look. Puck gags. I flick the tip of the wing closest to me and he squawks in outrage.

Since Ash still hasn't said anything, I turn back to him, and it's then I notice the serious expression on his face. "We are to meet with Sataniel," he says, voice tight.

I gape at him, mouth open, and sputter, "What? Where?"

"The Pits," he replies darkly, hands fisting.

"Uh, can I RSVP a ‘no' to that?" Puck looks to me as I speak, then back to Ash, waiting for his reply like he's watching a tennis match. There are tomato seeds smeared all over his furry chin .

Ash gives me a slightly disdainful look. "If I infer the meaning of your words correctly, the answer is ‘no'."

I sigh, my stomach fluttering with nerves. I neither want to see The Burning Pits of Hell nor meet its Crown Prince. "Should I dress in my armor, too?"

My archdemon shakes his head, looking as resigned as I've ever seen him. "It would not matter. If he wants to harm you, he will. And then our battle will bring Hell down around our ears."

Goosebumps prick my flesh at his words. "Alright," I sigh, standing up and skirting the table to reach him, leaving Puck to finish his meal and wishing I had kept an empty stomach for this. "How are we getting there? The whole hole-in-the-ground thing seems wildly unpleasant."

Ash ignores my usual attempts of tension-relieving humor. "There is a seal we can use to open an entrance."

"Oh, I've seen that. It's on the balcony facing the sea, right?" He nods but doesn't comment further.

We're silent until we reach the balcony and the golden seal of his name. Stepping on it and facing me, he opens his arms in invitation and I wrap mine around him.

"Keep your wits about you," he warns and then everything turns orange, heat suffusing the air around us. The floor beneath us disappears and a thunderous whoosh of Ash's wings emerging sound near my ears. I briefly glance at the heated rock around us. Ignoring the fact that we're currently descending into the core of Hell accompanied by the agonized wailing of damned souls, I trust in his hold and reach out a hand to caress the silken crimson feathers at the arch of one wing. It's like fluffy down in places, the texture unexpected and comforting.

I can feel Ash's jaw clench against my cheek. "Explore those later, lamb."

"Can you feel that?" I ask, ignoring the suggestion and sliding my palm down the longer feathers within my reach.

"Very much so," he replies, voice tight.

I tilt my head back so I can grin at him. "Does it tickle? "

He gives me a stern look as if to remind me this is not the time and place for teasing. "No."

Before I can quiz him on how exactly it feels, we land softly on the dry rocky ground. It's incredibly warm down here and Ash must be broiling in his armor. He takes my hand in his gloved one, thumb caressing it once, before he pulls me toward an arched opening at the end of the cavernous tunnel we're in.

The air on the other side shimmers with heat and it feels like I'm walking into a giant hair dryer. I keep my thoughts to myself and try to fight the urge to climb Ashtaroth like he's a tree in the Savannah and I'm running from a pack of lions.

The tunnel opens into a cavern with a throne on a tiered dais. Braziers with hellfire roar around it. Ash is moving us in its direction and I flinch when something cracks loudly under my feet. The ground is littered with brittle skeletal remains. At first, I think they are the bones of children, but then I notice the deformations; bones and skulls shaped in a way that makes it clear the small creatures were once demons.

I look at the empty throne and gulp. It's the most grotesque piece of furniture a depraved mind could design. Malformed demonic wings rise behind the backrest, frozen in poses that speak of agony. A petrified snarling hellhound decorates the highest point, its mouth glowing with hellfire from within. Every jagged edge of the throne is covered in thick spiderwebs and primal fear twists my stomach.

It's empty, but Ash still addresses it as if it weren't. "You summoned us?" His voice is deep and he bows his head in deference.

A disembodied voice replies, seemingly coming from everywhere. "Ashtaroth."

A flare of brilliant white light blinds me and the throne is no longer empty. A being sits on it, vaguely shaped like a man, but any features are hidden by tendrils of light, sparkling with the glow of newborn stars. The tendrils undulate and wave in the air, as if swaying to a symphony of heavenly music only they can hear. I feel wetness on my face and instinctively move to wipe it off. My fingers come away covered in blood.

Ash swears and turns me into his arms, tucking my head to his chest. "My Prince, please," he grits out, his hand tightening on my head convulsively.

"Ah," the voice replies, sounding amused. It's somehow both as light as diamond windchimes and as deep as the farthest reaches of undiscovered sea trenches. "I forget how delicate mortals are," the creature chuckles, and the sound tightens everything within me. I really don't want to feel aroused by the Devil.

Ashtaroth's grip eases and he lets me go with a quiet warning. "Do not look directly at him."

Lucifer scoffs, the sound far prettier than it should be. "Are you afraid your mortal will prefer my visage over yours, old friend?"

Ash doesn't bother to reply and in the moment of silence, I slowly turn around. Curiosity is greater than my sense of preservation, and I glance at the Prince of Hell. I glimpse starlit silvery hair and eyes like diamonds set in a stunningly perfect face, skin glowing from within like a radiant opal. The need to drop to my knees and crawl to him in worship is overwhelming, and only Ash's grip on my hand gives me the strength to look at the foot of the dais instead. It's no wonder he was named after the brightest evening star.

"Shall I share with your master all the lovely ways you wish to worship me, Nephalem? You are quite imaginative and original, I must say." He laughs and his light tone doesn't match his hurtful words.

Ash squeezes my hand once, slowly, as if to say ‘It's okay', and it spurs me to speak. "I believe he would rather hear about the reason we are here. Prince of Darkness," I add an honorific in an afterthought – maybe he'll turn me into ashes for addressing him directly.

"Mortals these days are a delight," he murmurs instead of dismembering me. "Belial paid me a visit some time ago, Ashtaroth," he says louder. "He had an interesting tale about Asmodai taking an Elioud girl by force. Normally I would not concern myself with such trivial matters, but Heaven was in a tizzy, so I had to step in."

"Why bother?" I ask, and Ash squeezes my hand again, this time in warning. "Aren't you the definition of ‘I do what I want'?"

Satan chuckles again, the sound like the most glorious morning birdsong. "I am not in the habit of suffering nuisances if I gain nothing from it."

"Is Asmodai here then?" Ashtaroth asks, clearly worried for the archdemon he claimed as a little brother.

"Oh, certainly." In my peripheral vision, I see the king of demons wave a hand lazily. Suddenly, fire roars to life in front of us, widening into a circle. Within the hazy heat, a picture forms, like a hologram at an amusement park. Two cages are suspended in the air. One holds a male with short brown hair and a stunningly chiseled face. He grips the bars anxiously, his gaze unmoving from the person in the other cage.

There's Simone, looking no different than when I saw her last. Ground-shaking relief washes over me at seeing her unharmed. Except… "Is she –"

"–very much with child? Yes," Lucifer drawls. "I offered them a choice, something to appease Heaven. She refused. But seeing as she is, well, permanently tied to Lilith's progeny, I cannot let them simply leave."

"What choice?" Ash growls, eyes fixed on the caged archdemon.

"Ah, I am glad you asked, friend." Lucifer waves the fiery viewing portal off and Asmodeus and Simone disappear. "Heaven would doubtless no longer concern themselves with these unusual, messy bonds were they beyond a doubt consensual."

"I'm with Ash by my own free will," I hasten to confirm. "My mentors at Purgatory know it and I have no problem telling the entire Council myself." Ash squeezes my hand again; the only way he can communicate his gratitude.

"Not good enough," Sataniel sings, and I can hear his evil grin before I take a quick glance at his face and see it.

"What would be good enough?" Ashtaroth grits out, the tension in his voice drawing my eyes away from the most beautiful fallen angel in existence.

"You are to make a bargain with your mortal, tying you together for eternity." The literal Devil joins his hands at the fingertips, the ultimate villain mastermind.

"A soul bargain?" Ash asks, incredulous.

"Indeed," the Devil intones and I quickly look away when his gaze shifts to me. "The sacrifice must be equal, of course. Shall we say, a third of your power, Ash? "

"I accept," Ash replies instantly, ignoring the mockery Lucifer made of his nickname.

The latter laughs in delight. "Marvelous. Even Asmodai balked at the suggestion. And I daresay he has more at stake."

I blink up at Ash, tugging on his hand until he meets my gaze, seeming somewhat reluctant to do so. "A soul bargain? As in ‘selling my soul to the Devil'?"

"Yes," he confirms softly.

I bite my lip. "So, if I get killed, my soul wouldn't end up in Purgatory, it would be here?" The wailing screams of tortured souls rise up in chorus, as if showing me what that fate would entail.

Ash uses two gloved fingers to tilt my head up by my chin. His eyes hold mine, looking both regretful and conflicted. "With a third of my power, it is unlikely you would ever be killed. Living in the Underworld already halted the aging process."

I chew on my lip, trying to picture my life if I said no. Living at Purgatory, patrolling Hell. Lucifer would make sure I never see Ashtaroth again. It's only been a couple of months, but I can no longer fit who I am into the confines of who I was before him. And he would give up a part of the most important thing he has to keep me by his side – his unfathomable strength.

"Would you be much more vulnerable without a third of your power? If another fight with an archdemon happens?"

He moves closer to me, no longer caring that we have an audience. "It would make no difference. The only creature that would have an easier time disposing of me is the one salivating over the position he put us in now."

"Careful, Ashtaroth," the Devil says softly. "You are the one who created this issue the moment you decided you wanted to play with an Elioud."

"The decision must be yours." Ashtaroth ignores Lucifer's murmured warning and places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

"Do spare me."

I ignore Satan as tears roll down my cheeks and a sob catches in my throat. I don't think I really have a choice here. I don't want to spend eternity away from Ash, and a part of my soul had always already belonged to Hell. "It's a bargain," I whisper, not trusting my voice. I clear my throat and take a deep breath. "My soul for a third of Ashtaroth's power."

"Wonderful!" Lucifer claps his hands and my legs give out. I collapse in Ash's arms and he grunts just as a wave of intense heat radiates through my body. Once it passes, I right myself and look my demon over, then take stock of myself as well.

"I don't feel any different." My voice is shaky from adrenaline and I cling to Ash like a baby lemur, despite being able to stand on my own feet now. I do feel some new connection between us – maybe the power he shared with me recognizing its home within him.

"Yes, well," Ashtaroth's words stir the hair atop my head as he speaks down at me. "Do not even try to summon hellfire until there are no flammable objects within a league." I can't help the jittery laugh that emerges from me.

"This is very touching, but I am done with you now." Sataniel's voice snaps me out of the intimate bubble of the embrace and I take a step back.

"What about Belial?" I ask Lucifer, my voice getting harder as I remind myself of the duplicitous archdemon. "Ash said he's down here, too?"

"He is." The Devil now sounds angry for the first time and I can hear rocks crumbling from the stone walls in the dark corners of the cavern. "I do not appreciate being made a party to his scheming. He will remain my guest."

I shudder at the implications of the Devil's hospitality. Ashtaroth only nods, then takes my hand and turns toward the tunnel we landed in. "Until next time," he tells the ancient creature sitting on its throne.

"Ashtaroth," Sataniel acknowledges. I feel a shiver skitter down the back of my neck as he says farewell to me, voice full of promise. "Lana."