Chapter 23

CHAPTER23

Lucifer’s eyes flicked to the staff member. “Dismissed.”

The female demon got to her feet, bowed low, and left the courtyard.

“And what is it,” my devilish grandfather-in-law drawled, “that brings you here, Lady Zoe?”

I glanced up—still prone on the ground because he hadn’t given me permission to rise yet—at the group of demons that still lingered around Lucifer. “Um… Can we, maybe, talk in private?”

Lucifer just stared at me.

Okay, right, great. I cleared my throat. “I’m sure it has come to your attention that I recently broke a vow I made to you.”

A shadow passed over his expression, his features growing tense. “So it has.”

“Well, I am here…” My heart pounded so loud, I was sure every single demon in the courtyard could hear it. And the dragon, too, probably. The ebbing nausea in my stomach fizzed to new life as fear grasped my soul in a spine-chilling hold.

“To plead with me for leniency?” Lucifer asked in a mocking tone.

“No, Your Grace.” I fought back my nerves. “I’m here to face the consequences of breaking that vow.”

A quick glance up at Lucifer let me know he regarded me curiously, his head tilted. “Let me get this right—you are asking me to punish you?”

Breath stuck in my lungs, I swallowed past a parched throat. “Yes.”

Snide laughter from the demons assembled.

“I think that might be a first,” Lucifer purred.

More laughter echoed in the courtyard.

“Outside of the bedroom, that is,” he added with a chuckle.

Ew. I hid my grimace. I did not want to imagine Lucifer engaging in any sort of sexual activity, thank you very much.

“You don’t strike me as a glutton for punishment.”

Leading statement, I reminded myself. He hadn’t asked a question. I didn’t need to answer.

Out of the periphery of my sight, I saw him step closer. “Why?”

“Your Grace?”

“Why are you here eagerly asking for me to dole out punishment? I have not summoned you.”

I hesitated. For some reason, I didn’t feel like it would be the right choice to tell him about my hope that this would take the leverage away in the case of Azazel not seeing his mom. In fact, I felt with utmost certainty that mentioning Naamah in any way, shape, or form right now might put me on very dangerous ground with him.

Rationally, he knew this was about her. I knew this was about her.

But that was an abstract kind of knowing. Actually speaking about her was a whole different thing, and she’d proven to be a subject to which he responded with a high degree of volatility and irrationality.

And the last thing I wanted right now was to make Lucifer volatile and irrational.

More than he usually was, that is.

So I just shrugged and said, “I can’t stand the pressure anymore. I just want to get this over with.”

“In that case, maybe I should let you stew in that anxiety a bit more.” Spoken in the tone used on cherished pets or loved ones.

Ugh. Of course he’d go for that. Azazel’s first theory about why Lucifer hadn’t immediately come for me might not be that far off after all.

All right, time to switch tactics a bit. “Would you like me to beg?” I asked meekly.

“That would be lovely.”

I suppressed the whole-body shiver that wanted to take over my muscles. Pushing down the disgust rising up from my middle, I kept my voice submissive and said, “Please punish me.”

Oh, god. I had the urgent need to rinse my mouth out with soap and contemplate my life choices that somehow led me to the point in time where I lay flat on the ground in front of the Devil and begged him to punish me.

“I could watch this all day,” Lucifer said with a chuckle. “Unfortunately, I have a tight schedule and more important matters to deal with than to witness you mop the floor with your entire body, so shoo.”

With a gasp of disbelief, I raised my gaze to him again. He made actual shooing gestures with his hands, the asshole.

“Chop, chop, out with you.”

“B-but—the punishment!”

“Will be all the sweeter when you are even more eager for it at a later point. Or maybe I’ll wait years to come and get you, when you’ve all but forgotten that you still owe me. Just imagine the shock when I remind you.”

Oh, that motherfucker.

No. I would not leave here unpunished.

And there was another thing I’d never thought I’d say.

I lifted my upper body from the floor so that I sat on my legs and glared at him. “Sad,” I said in a voice as cold as it was bored. “So sad. I was so scared to come here, thinking about all the ways you might exact your revenge. Your reputation precedes you, of course. But it looks like you lost your edge. You’re not even up for punishing a measly little human anymore? I heal fast now, thanks to your boon. That’s a lot of torture to be had.” I waved up and down myself.

“What are you doing?” Mammon hissed through clenched teeth.

The part of my brain responsible for self-preservation was currently screaming the same question at me.

“But instead you use excuses to send me away,” I continued, pressing on despite the goosebumps spreading across my arms. If there was anything I excelled at, it was being contrarian and poking at someone I absolutely shouldn’t poke. “You say you’ll punish me later. What a great pretext for not stepping up to the plate right now.” I leaned forward a bit. “Cop out.”

Mammon sucked in a breath that sounded like a machine seconds before it collapsed.

Silence reigned in the courtyard. The demons around Lucifer raised their brows and exchanged looks, some of them uneasy, some eager. They’d obviously read my speech for what it was—a gauntlet thrown, a deliberate challenge.

And if I’d judged Lucifer even the tiniest bit right, it was one he couldn’t ignore. A silly, easy-to-figure-out manipulation, but…it would still make him look weak if he sent me away now. That was the nature of the power plays in Hell, when might was right, and one could allow no doubt about one’s strength and ability.

Did he have the ultimate authority and could simply choose to ignore my taunting, trusting that his reputation and power were firm enough that he wouldn’t have to answer a challenge like this? Sure, maybe.

But some little, tiny doubt might stick. Someone would talk, the talk would spread, and it might even coalesce with other little doubts here and there, other instances where his reputation suffered some scratches.

Like the fact he’d tried to set me and Azazel up at the Fall Festival, assuming I’d pick the option to renounce Azazel and return to Earth—thereby hurting and humiliating Azazel—only to watch me stand there in front of his whole court and publicly choose Azazel and a life in Hell.

Lucifer had been obviously stumped. He’d been so sure I’d turn my back on Azazel, and if I thought too long about it, I’d want to scratch Lucifer’s eyes out, because his certainty that I wouldn’t choose Azazel pointed at a deeper conviction that Azazel couldn’t possibly have someone who truly loved him and would choose him over everything else.

Yeah, that one got my hackles up something fierce.

In any case, though, the fact that his little attempt at humiliation of Azazel didn’t pan out back at the Fall Festival, but instead left Lucifer in a less-than-favorable light must have already chipped away at his reputation.

Add in my taunting of him now, in front of witnesses, and he had to act.

He couldn’t let me get away with defying him twice.

The shadows in the courtyard deepened, the sky darkening without the shape of a dragon to blot out the light. Holy shit. The amount of power this spoke to, the fact that Hell itself responded to Lucifer’s moods… The goosebumps on my arms spread all over my body while my breath seemed to freeze in my lungs.

“Have a care,” Lucifer said in a voice of deceptive calm, an unholy glimmer in the depth of his eyes, “how you speak to your king.”

He crooked a finger, and an invisible force pushed me back onto my front. I jerked up my hands to break the fall.

“If you so dearly desire to be hurt,” he said, stepping closer, “let us start with this.”

Another wave of his hand, and his power pulled me up to kneeling again. Now directly in front of me, he grabbed me by the throat, tilted back my head, and used his other hand to force my mouth open with disturbing calm.

“Maybe ripping out your tongue will teach you not to speak out of turn.”

Panic snaked through me. For all my posturing and all my bravado and the determination to accept my punishment, I couldn’t help being absofuckinglutely terrified at the very real threat of violence that was staring me in the face right now. Every single primal instinct in me rebelled, seized hold of my muscles, my thoughts, my emotions.

I jerked in his grasp and tried to close my mouth, grabbing his wrists as if I could dislodge his hands from me. As if I could actually fight him off.

Fear clouded my mind, my vision, as I struggled powerlessly in his grip, had to watch as he pried my mouth open again and went to reach inside—only to stop short. A shadow whispered over his expression, he pulled back his hand, waited a beat, and then reached forward again, clearly intending to grasp my tongue to rip it out.

His hand froze before he made contact.

Features tense, he stood there for the span of a few rapid heartbeats, his dark blond brows pulling together, a magnificently puzzled look on his angelic face.

He seemed as utterly confused as I was.

A quiet snarl on his lips, he let go of me, stepped back, and then raised his arm as if to backhand me. I flinched in anticipation…but the strike never came. Peering at him through the corners of my eyes, my head still turned sideways, I saw him standing there, still as a statue, all his muscles bunched in what appeared to be some terrible inner battle he was embroiled in. His arm, yet raised to slap me, trembled ever so slightly, like he was trying his hardest to complete the blow, but some unseen force kept him unmovable.

I hardly dared to breathe. What the hell was going on?

The snarl took over his face, the sound of it rolling through the courtyard. Lowering his arm, he bared his teeth and barked, “Leave!”

Not missing a beat, the demons around him scattered. Some extended their wings and took off into the air, launching far away beyond the high walls of the courtyard, the others ran for the doors like cockroaches skittering out of sight when the lights turned on. Even the unlucky demon who’d been tortured by Lucifer managed to scuttle away on his remaining limbs.

Beside me, Mammon grasped my hand and tugged hard enough to almost make me lose my balance and plant my ass on the floor.

“Not you,” Lucifer growled, his eyes on me.

I gulped and freed my hand from Mammon’s hold. “Go,” I whispered to him.

He hesitated, real fear shining in his wide eyes. “Zoe…”

“Go!” I said with more insistence. “You don’t need to tell him where I am. I left him a note.”

Mammon’s face took on an Are you fucking kidding? expression.

I grimaced. Yeah, maybe not the best way to break the news to Azazel that I’d voluntarily handed myself over to Lucifer for punishment, but I didn’t want Mammon to be the one to deliver that particular message, or else he’d lose his wings right there on the spot.

I gave Mammon another urgent look, and he finally had the wherewithal to run for the hills like the others.

Leaving me alone with a supremely pissed-off Lucifer.

I swallowed hard as I turned back to him. His face a storm of rage, he curled his lip and lifted his hand, making a fist. A whisper of his power coursed over me, coiled around my throat, but it was a mere shadow of the invisible strangle-hold he was capable of—I still vividly remembered what it had felt like when he’d tried to magically crush my windpipe back at the Fall Festival.

Overhead, lightning rent the air, dozens of flashes streaking through the darkness, followed by thunder that rocked the ground. Lucifer’s expression was equal parts frustration and bewilderment as he lowered his hand and stepped closer again.

Reaching out slowly, he touched his fingers to my face. I cringed away, but he grabbed my chin and held me in place as he brought his other hand up to poke at my skin.

What the hell, dude?

Fast like a snake, he pulled back one arm and made as if to strike me again—and again, he halted in mid-air, like someone had pushed a pause button on him. Gritting his teeth, he lowered his arm slowly and then touched his hand to my forehead.

“What sorcery is this?” he hissed.

“What?” I whispered, completely puzzled.

“You have done something to yourself. Some kind of magic…” He grabbed my throat—gently—and turned my head from side to side, then up until my eyes met his. Leaning down until he was inches from me, he studied me intently, his gaze boring into mine. “Some power that makes me incapable of touching you with the intent to hurt.”

I shivered in his hold, a chill stealing through my bones.

His gaze still drilled into me as if he was trying to read my soul through my eyes. An infinitesimal jolt went through him, and he whispered, more to himself than to me, “Could it be—”

He laid his hand on my chest, right between my breasts, but the touch didn’t feel sexual at all, just…searching. A pulse of his power shot out from his hand, through me—and connected to a spark that had recently fused with my soul.

With a hiss, he snatched his hand back. “How is this possible?”

I bit back a whimper. “Your Grace?”

“How?” His fingers twitched against my throat, as if he had the urge to choke me. “How do you carry a kernel of her essence inside you?”

My eyes widened. Lilith’s power. Was that it? The reason he couldn’t bring himself to hurt me—because he sensed a piece of her inside me, and it automatically stopped him from causing me harm?

Holy fuck. If that was true, Lilith had somehow preventively saved my ass.

“Speak!” he snapped.

“S-she gave it to me.”

“Gave it to you.” He stared at me with a blank face.

I nodded and licked my lips. “Punched a hole in her own chest, pulled out…a piece of her power or soul or whatever, then punched a hole in my chest and put that thing in there, and it was a whole bloody mess, worse than those scenes in the Alien movies, you know, when the little alien babies burst out of people’s chests—well, I mean, they’re not really babies, that’s too cute a description, they’re these small monster thingies—”

He closed my mouth with apparently just enough gentleness not to trigger the Do Not Hurt the Bearer of the Spark response, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

So I knelt there, keeping my blabber mouth submissively shut while the supreme overlord of Hell processed the fact that he couldn’t hurt the impertinent little human like he’d planned.

“Magoth!” he called out.

A sound echoed in the air, and it took me a second to realize it was the flapping of mighty wings, right before the courtyard darkened and a giant beast landed behind Lucifer with far more grace than a monster of its size should be capable of.

My eyes widened, my muscles jerked in primal fear, and I barely kept myself from wetting my pants as I stared at the thing of myths and tales of terror looming just feet from me.

The dragon was as big as a private jet. Covered in thick, black scales, horns protruding from its head and along its spine, it crouched on its hind legs and the middle joint of its massive wings—which didn’t grow out of its back, but were actually its front legs, like those of a bat. Yellow-green eyes of high intelligence tracked my every move, while saliva dripped from its maw that displayed a set of teeth that would have humbled a T-rex.

“Magoth,” Lucifer said without taking his eyes off me, “be a good girl and—” His sentence ended in a choked sound.

Heart racing, I stared at him.

He looked like he was straining to say something, but couldn’t get the words out. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, cracked a kink in his neck, then resumed glaring at me.

“Magoth,” he began again, “go ahead and—”

Again, he choked on whatever words he’d intended to say next.

“Damn it all to Heaven,” he growled, turned away and kicked a brazier.

The metal container tipped over and spilled the burning coals all over the floor. I winced.

Still turned away, Lucifer stood with his hands on his hips and scowled at the coals like they’d committed a personal offense against him.

“Can’t even order someone to hurt you,” he muttered.

I pressed my lips together to keep a wholly inappropriate grin off my face. Wouldn’t be smart to antagonize him even more. Then again…what would he do? Tickle me in retaliation?

He faced me again, a calculating glint in his eyes. “I might not be able to harm you physically, but that is certainly not the only way to punish someone.”

A thread of worry wormed its way into the pit of my stomach.

“What do you say,” he purred, “we explore if the magic she gifted you protects you from other forms of penance?”

Uh-oh.