Hell's Phoenix (40 page)

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Authors: Gracen Miller

Tags: #Book Two of the Road To Hell Series

BOOK: Hell's Phoenix
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If she wanted mutiny from him, she needed to continue this conversation. And if she tried, he swore he would drag her gorgeous ass back to the bedroom and fuck her until she didn’t have the energy to argue.

A slow grin curved her lips.

What the Hell
? If his anger amused her, he would—what? Keep her locked up and naked in a room, until he brainwashed her into agreeing with him? Not a bad idea either way, but—

“Beg your pardon, Nix.” Confused by her words, his anger fizzled. “I misspoke. By ‘y’all’ I meant your family—Gage, Zoe, Georgie, and James—not you specifically. I never had any intention of asking you to leave. Contrary to the evidence of my marriage, I do define a relationship as two people
together
, not apart.”

Nix grinned and would’ve kissed her again if Kur hadn’t spoken.

“Can you two have this conversation elsewhere? In private? Being forced to listen to the pleadings of the desperate mortal,” Kur notched his thumb at Nix to indicate which desperate mortal he referred, “is akin to cruel and unusual torture. And I thought you had some questions about the dragon stuff, Madison.”

 

 

Chapter Forty-nine

 

 

Madison squeezed Nix’s side and studied first the dragon, then Zen. She put some space between herself and Nix, so she could think with a clearer head. Something about Nix’s presence aroused her succubus like soft strokes of his thumb against her clitoris.

A bad feeling churned in her gut. The notion Micah might live was very much a tangible possibility. If so, Micah or Elias, or maybe both, would be gunning for her in a united bid at claiming her. Their timeline was imminent. At any moment they could breach her fortifications. And she wasn’t referring to housing defenses, but her mental barriers.

She rubbed her temple, a tiny headache threatening to erupt.

But, she couldn’t think about any of that, not when she needed answers to other questions. She peered between the two immortal men, both equally attractive though totally different. Zen was chocolate-haired, silver eyed, with power coiled in a small, unassuming package. Kur’s presentation was almost the opposite with blue-black hair, ocean-sapphire eyes that could go black or blue depending on the lighting, and a colossal frame that hid the enormous power of a dragon.

What amazing irony. She played cloak and dagger with creatures she hadn’t known existed until five years ago. An immortal best friend, a demon step-daughter, a fallen angel for an ex-husband, a son that could end all time, the Ark of Heaven was her lover, and she was more fucked up than ever. And a dragon was now added to the mix. What next?

Kur dragged one of the office chairs next to Zen and sat, giving her his full attention as he laced his fingers over his abdomen. “I’m all yours, my Queen.”

Madison arched an eyebrow, but Zen frowned. “Just Madison. I don’t want to be reminded of Hell every time you talk to me.”

“Madison.” Kur conceded with a nod.

Zen turned away from Kur. Affecting a bored expression, he crossed an ankle over his knee and flattened his forearms along the chair.

“You didn’t think it noteworthy to tell me the scroll thingy you stuck on my body would control an army of dragons?”

Zen’s finger swished against the leather. “Would it have made a difference?”

She ground her molars together. “Zennyo Ryuo. According to you, that’s what you are.”

He rolled his shoulders in a negligent shrug. “Your point?”

“You know Zennyo Ryuo is an ancient Japanese dragon myth, right? A dragon king, to be specific?”

“I’m aware of the legend. You are the one that insisted on turning it into a name, even though I informed you it was my race.”

“You could have offered a different name.” Nix watched Madison lazily.

“Why?” Zen cleared his throat and waited for Nix to look at him before he continued. “In my time, speech was almost nonexistent. Names weren’t required because we communicated telepathically. Madison gave me a name to suit her world and I accepted it. No other was needed.”

“All right. He’s your witness again, Mads.” Nix winked at her.

Fucking sexy. She wanted to forget her questions and lick him all over. When she turned back to Zen, his smug smile said she’d projected her thoughts. Damn immortal and his mind-reading ability!

“Zen, why did you send me to Hell with the power to control a dragon army and not tell me? And don’t try and insult my intelligence by saying it was a coincidence.”

“Obviously, you went to Hell with the Scroll of Cursed Souls because you needed that army. Don’t forget I wasn’t the one who suggested it, but rather Petra. If you’ll recall, I argued against saving Phoenix.”

“Thanks, by the way.” Nix scratched his scruffy chin.

“She insisted you were worthy of saving.” Zen shrugged. “I was initially unconvinced.”

“Too bad you don’t have better control over her. She never should’ve come into Hell.”

Madison glared at Nix, knowing he meant every word. “Don’t think you’re going to have any better control over me either, Phoenix Birmingham.”

“I look forward to taming you, baby.” He blew her a sensually wicked kiss and swept her body with a hard leer that left her feeling naked. And aroused. Jesus Christ, a wicked look and she grew wet. Madison shivered at the promises she read in his eyes and understood his taming involved bedroom activities only.

She tried to return the topic back to its original topic. “Zen, I’m still waiting on an explanation.”

“Simple answer. They were once under my command and helped me maintain the balance, hence part of how the legend spawned. My being able to throw balls of fire helped fuel the myth. Micah stole the Scroll of Cursed Souls. I got it back.”

“He seemed surprised when I opened the door. Said something about it wasn’t meant to be opened yet. Do you have something to add to this, Kur?”

“Thanks for opening our door.” The dragon grinned.

Madison ran her fingers across her forehead. “Why didn’t you and Petra tell me about this?”

Zen shrugged. “It never crossed my mind. I can’t answer for Petra.”

“Petra could’ve had a hidden agenda, Mads.” Lines scored Nix’s forehead. She knew how he felt about her step-daughter, but Madison had been thinking the same thing.

“Kur, you mentioned in Hell that you know Petra. How?”

“She was the consort to the chieftain before me. We were trapped in Hell, but we made the most of it, created a beautiful world, and populated.”

Not nearly enough explanation to satisfy all her questions.

“And?” Nix prodded, loping an arm around Madison’s shoulders and pulling her snug against his side.

“And my chieftain’s been dead for a thousand years now. Dead by Micah’s hand because Petra and our leader had a spat and she wanted revenge.” He pinned a lock of hair behind an ear. “She never attacks from the front, but had her fucking daddy enter the back way into our domain. A slit big enough for one of them to enter, but too tight for us to squeeze through in any state. Micah controlled him with the Scroll, while Petra killed him with his own blade, the one she now carries.”

None of this surprised Madison. Petra had been a full-fledged, murder-loving demon before Amos tamed her. But like any wild animal, once tamed, it needed constant supervision.

“You want her dead?” Madison asked.

“With every breath I take.” His eyes gleamed for retribution.

“You won’t have it in my house.” He bristled at her command. “And so long as I wear the Scroll of Cursed Souls, you’re in my house regardless of locale.” Their gazes were locked tight. She wouldn’t look away; it’d show weakness. “Understood, Kur?”

He clenched his teeth. “Yes.”

“That goes for all your dragons.”

“I understand, Madison. Just don’t ask me to be civil to her.”

“Looks like we all have reasons to kill that demon bitch,” Nix said.

“She serves a purpose,” Zen replied.

Nix chuckled. The sound rumbled from his chest against her side. She peeked through her lashes at him as he spoke. “Don’t ever ask me to be civil, either. It’s not a promise I can make, much less keep.”

“The Scroll of Cursed Souls you wear. It’s time for it to be removed and the dragons return to their home place.” Beside Zen, Kur tensed, muscles bunching beneath his clothing, reminding her of a feline ready to pounce its nearest victim. Zen ignored Kur’s tension. “They cannot remain earthbound without causing alarm.”

“They remain.”

“Madison….” Zen charged to his feet.

“If Micah or Elias comes, I’ll need all the help I can get defeating them.”

“And if you fail? If you succumb to your inner nature?”

“Then we’ll go rogue with her.” Kur’s silky voice would’ve been more appropriate for the bedroom.

 

 

Chapter Fifty

 

 

Nix glared at the dragon, disliking the quality of his voice. Way-over-the-top bedroom voice going on.

Zen spewed curses—or it sounded like curses—in a syntax that rose and fell like he worked at sucking his tongue down his throat. The dragon obviously understood it because he shrugged at the immortal.

“What’d you two just say, Zen?” Madison asked, peering from one to the other.

Kur answered. “He told me if you went nuclear, you’d have us burning the world to ashes.”

“Not my exact words.” Zen glared at the dragon.

“And you shrugged at that?” Mads shook her head, a frown gouging her forehead with creases.

“It won’t be the first time the world has gone out in ashes.” If Nix read Mads’s expression accurately, she was aghast by Kur’s matter-of-fact comment. The dragon leaned forward in his seat. “Sixty-one thousand years ago, the soon-to-come fallen angels massacred us because of their first temper tantrum with daddy. I will do anything to bring about their final fall.
Anything
. I’m doubtful the dragon blade I gave you killed Beliel. He should’ve exploded into diamonds the moment you nicked his heart.”

“Seriously? Diamonds?” Mads rubbed her fingers against her temples.

Nix would never look at a gemstone the same way again.

“Yes.” Kur shifted in his chair. “The rarest red diamond would be the remains of an Archangel.”

As Zen spoke, Mads walked across the room to the knives protruding from the wall. “Back on point. That Micah lived does not surprise me. He’s grown too powerful for me to kill him.”

A scary fact, no doubt, for someone that should be capable of balancing the powers. Mads retrieved one of the two blades embedded in the wall and walked to Kur with it. She offered it to him handle first. “Yours.”

“Keep it,” the dragon said. “I gave it to you. And that scale he came out of Hell with,” Kur nodded at Nix, referring to the one Mads had placed against his back, “your son can use Hellfire to craft it into other forms of weaponry.”

“No.” Her eyes turned to frigid shards of ice. “And don’t think of arguing with me over that.”

Nix wouldn’t gainsay her, not when she used that expression. Instead, he asked the question that’d been bugging him since Zen had spoken in that ancient lilt. “I thought your people didn’t have a language, Zenny.”

“We did not. Our race is too superior for such commonness.”

Nix frowned, surprised by the obvious jab. “Not winning any brownie points, Zenny.”

“I don’t know what those are and I’m certain I can do without them.” Nix nearly burst out laughing at Zen’s haughty tone. “My words were spoken in Atlantian, from the time whence he came.” Zen nodded at Kur.

“Atlantis?” Nix laughed. They had to be pulling his leg. “You said sixty-one thousand years ago, Kur? I’m not up on my history, but isn’t that way before the known Sumerian time?” At the dead silence, he glanced among all of them. “You’re joking, right?”

“No joke, Nix.” Mads moved away from Kur to rejoin him. She slid her arms around his waist. “I realize it’s a lot to take in, but Zen predates Atlantis.”

Nix stared at her, unable to wrap his brain around the span of Zen’s life. He tried comprehending that he could add Atlantis to his ‘not a myth’ list, which until now had only held supernatural creatures. “How fucking old are you, Zenny?”

Zen pretended to count on his fingers before saying in a disinterested tone, “Immortal.”

“So that settles it. I’m staying.” Kur brought the conversation back full circle.

“I dislike it. Very bad idea.” Zen stuck to his guns.

“This won’t end until Micah is dead.” Kur rose to his feet and squared off against the immortal.

“Or I am.” Mads’s comment silenced the room. Nix went all sorts of crazy inside at the ease with which she talked about her demise.

“Hold it!” Nix slashed a hand through the air. “I thought your dragon blade was a guaranteed Micah-killer?” Or at least that’s what Kur implied when he gave her the knife. “Now you’re saying that’s not enough. Well, what is enough?”

“When I went into Hell’s realm, the angels were viciously allergic to anything dragon. I know of no other allergy.”

“I know one way guaranteed to kill Micah.” Mads wouldn’t meet his gaze and she didn’t sound nearly somber enough for what he guessed she suggested.

Her death.

Nix slashed his fingers through his hair and squeezed her shoulder with his other hand. “Not an option, Mads.” Allowing her to die just to bring down her damned husband would never be an alternative in his mind.

“Madison, I’ve made grave errors where you’re concerned. I knew as a child that Micah had big plans for you, but I couldn’t conceive the scope of his campaign. I could’ve killed you as an infant. I failed then, and I still cannot bring myself to regret my actions. He has big aspirations for the dragons. That is the reason for him stealing the Scroll from me, and I cannot see how Kur staying earthbound—especially in your current situation—makes good sense in any scenario. I took a calculated risk allowing you to enter Hell with the Scroll of Cursed Souls, knowing I hand-delivered Micah what he covets, except for a bride willing to be his Queen. Hell’s evil has fed your darkness and you’ve altered. I have no idea if Phoenix can keep you honest. Micah needs those dragons if he stands a chance of succeeding with his plan to overthrow his father.”

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