Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 6) (35 page)

In his care.

A guest.

“What do you want with me?” she snapped, fear making her brave.

The Devil captured her jaw in one cold hand and shoved her chin up, forcing her to face him. He held her there, his claws pressing into her cheeks, and stared down at her.

“You are dangerous. I intend to render you safe.”

Like a gun with the safety catch on?

“Why am I dangerous?”

He released her jaw and patted her cheek. “You do not need to know. All you need to know is that I will see to it that no harm befalls you while you sleep.”

She wasn’t taking that as an answer. She had a right to know why she was dangerous and why he wanted to flick her safety on.

“Is this because of my magic?”

He shook his head. “No, and that is the only question I will answer.”

She wasn’t taking that as an answer either. “Why do you want to protect me? I would have thought it would be easier to kill me if I’m so dangerous and you’re so powerful.”

“Why kill what I may one day have a use for?” The Devil turned away from her and waved his hand over the top of a small black table beside his chair. A silver knife appeared on it.

The Devil picked it up.

Liora swallowed hard, her gaze riveted on the dagger.

“What are you going to do with that?” she whispered, trembling as he advanced on her, toying with the delicate blade.

“This?” He pressed one finger on his left hand against the end of the hilt and one on his right against the point and turned them so the blade was vertical with its tip at the bottom. He released the hilt and the knife balanced on his fingertip. It stayed there, motionless and straight, not wobbling in the slightest. He smiled at her. “There is some truth in fairy tales. The myth of a prick of a poisoned needle sending someone into a deep, endless sleep in which they never age can easily come about from the truth of a prick of a special blade fed with powerful blood… and none come more powerful than mine.”

Liora stared at his finger, watching it pale and turn bluish. He was feeding the blade. He was going to use it on her to send her into a timeless sleep.

“No.” Liora struggled against her bonds, grimacing as they cut into her wrists.

The Devil frowned and flicked his other hand towards her, and she froze in her seat, crying out in frustration when she found she couldn’t move.

“We cannot have you harming yourself now.” He flipped the blade in his other hand and caught it. “I promise, dear child, that this will not hurt. I will not spill a drop of your blood.”

Liora desperately called on her magic but it still didn’t come. It lingered deep inside her and she realised that just as the Devil had trapped her within her own body, rendering her powerless to move, he had trapped her magic inside her blood.

“Please,” she whispered, her heart calling out for Asmodeus to come, to burst into the room and stop this madman before he sent her into a sleep she feared she would never wake from.

She struggled again, her body not responding to her commands and her magic unable to help her break the spell the Devil had placed on it.

He kneeled before her, looking up at her, his amber eyes showing her no pity or remorse, and took hold of her left hand.

“You must sleep,” he said in a low voice that sounded practiced to her ears, designed to soothe and placate, to calm and subdue.

She rallied and focused harder, calling on all of her strength and trying to force her body to move, to knock the blade away. He edged it towards her fingers and tears slipped down her cheeks as it pricked her skin.

Heat spread up her arm like fire and she cried out, screaming in agony as it burned her flesh and melted her bones. It hurt like a bitch.

Darkness loomed again, terrifying and crushing, endless.

She wouldn’t have her forever that she wanted.

Everything ended here.

“Asmodeus,” she whispered, hoarse and afraid as she sank into the gloom.

The Devil’s voice echoed around her, soft and offering a strange comfort as oblivion claimed her.

“Sleep, Liora… the world will be safe then.”

T
he moment Asmodeus heard one of his hellhounds barking, he cast a portal and leaped into it, coming out on the other side of the island. Romulus bounded up to him, his red eyes glowing with fury. Asmodeus’s heart pounded and he looked towards the shore and Remus, fearing what he would find. Remus pawed at something on the white sand and whined, the sound pained and heightening Asmodeus’s fear. He sprinted to Remus and ground to a halt when he saw what it was on the sand.

Liora’s pentagram.

He dropped to his knees and gathered the necklace into his fist, clutching it and using his senses to scour the island for her.

“What happened?” he said in the demon tongue to Remus and Romulus, his fear crushing his heart. Liora was gone. “Who took her?”

Remus whined and his left ear drooped. Romulus growled at something. A glassy strip across the sand.

Someone had opened a pathway to Hell here and had snatched Liora. Asmodeus touched the footprints in the sand. Liora’s bare ones, delicate and small, and larger ones made by boots, distinctly male and definitely angelic.

A Hell’s angel.

“Where’s Liora?” The soft female voice came from behind him, her appearance made in silence. He had been so caught in the vicious storm of his emotions that he hadn’t sensed her arrival.

Asmodeus glared up at Erin and she shook her head and then looked beyond him, seeing the same scar line that he had noticed.

“He wouldn’t. My father is a bastard, but he wouldn’t dare break the pact we have.” Erin carefully crouched and touched the jagged glass fault line. “Still warm.”

“I have to get her back.” Asmodeus shot to his feet and gritted his teeth when he sensed the others coming towards them. He couldn’t face them. Not when he was losing control, his emotions tearing him apart, pushing him towards the brink of unleashing his fury on the first person who looked at him the wrong way or said the wrong thing.

Liora had made friends on this island and he didn’t want to give them reason to no longer trust her. She had been happy here, with them and with him. He wanted to make sure that when he brought her back, she would still have this place and these people, so she could be happy again.

Asmodeus threw his hand out and cast a portal, the black swirling vortex appearing between Erin and his hellhounds.

“Wait. We can think this through. We can all go together and bring her back, Asmodeus. You don’t have to do this alone.” Erin rose to her feet and he shook his head, refusing to heed her order.

They couldn’t help him.

Erin and Veiron couldn’t travel to Hell without risking their unborn child or falling into the Devil’s hands.

Apollyon would only mock him, pointing out that he had again failed to protect Liora.

The others would follow Apollyon.

He had to do this alone.

Romulus and Remus whined, as if sensing his thoughts and knowing that included leaving them here. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them as he spoke to them in the demon language.

“Remain here. I will bring her back. I swear it. We will all be together again.” Asmodeus heard voices drawing closer and stepped into the portal. The darkness embraced him, a cool welcoming breeze over his flesh, and he changed into his armour as he travelled to the other side, deep into the bowels of Hell.

He stepped out on the main path between the lava river below the plateau and the Devil’s obsidian fortress, and stared at it, knowing that the bastard held Liora there.

Asmodeus spread his black feathered wings and beat them, lifting off and flying over the inhospitable rocky terrain, heading towards the tall spires of black basalt that formed a semi-circle around the Devil’s home.

It had been his home once.

When he had left it, the Devil had shown his disappointment and irritation by changing the enchantments on the entrances. They no longer opened to him as they used to, sensing his proximity and admitting him. He had tried several times to enter without the Devil’s permission to attend a meeting with him and every time the doors had failed to open on his approach. He needed to find a way in.

Asmodeus’s red gaze scanned the vast empty fields below him. Security was lacking today. Why?

He had expected the Devil to have at least a legion of Hell’s angels ready to defend the fortress against him, ensuring that Liora remained locked within its walls. It was strange of his master to leave the fortress undefended.

He beat his wings and rose higher in the warm air, scouting further into the distance in case the Devil’s men were lying in wait. He could see no one within at least a mile’s radius, nor could he sense anyone.

Asmodeus flew over the huge spikes of black rock and swooped down into the fractured courtyard, landing near the steps that curved around the front of the fortress.

It was too quiet.

He placed Liora’s pendant around his neck and its magic flowed over him, a cool sensation that felt like a gentle caress but was potent, as powerful as Liora believed it to be.

He took hold of the pentagram and looked down at it, studying the intricate star and the symbols engraved in the surface on both sides. It had been her mother’s and her grandmother’s before her. Passed down through generations in the female line to protect them.

She had wanted him to have it though, had desired he wear it so it would protect him. She had her wish in a way now, but he would return it to her the moment she was safe in his arms where she belonged.

Asmodeus curled his fingers around the star and approached the steps of the fortress, his gaze locked on the tall twin doors in the black forbidding façade.

“Open the doors and speak with me.” Asmodeus’s voice rang around the courtyard, echoing off the black spires of rock that surrounded him.

He waited, clutching Liora’s pentagram, trying to steady his emotions so he could face whatever came next with a clear mind and heart, able to calculate the best moves and the quickest method of getting what he wanted. He wouldn’t fail Liora. He would save her from his master and ensure the male never came after her again.

Nothing happened.

Asmodeus mounted the steps and his power began to rise, entwining with the magic contained within the pentagram. He swore he could feel Liora calling for him, her fear reaching out to him through the impenetrable black walls of his master’s fortress.

“Liora,” he whispered and tightened his grip on her pendant around his neck, his heart calling for her, his wretched soul desperate to see that she was safe and unharmed.

He released her pendant and called both of his swords to his hands. The curved golden blades gleamed wickedly in the dim glow of the lava pools dotted around the courtyard.

“Devil,” Asmodeus commanded, his focus locked on his master now and the connection that existed between them in their blood. “Answer me. Show yourself. Give me back Liora.”

The ground shook, bucking violently beneath his feet, but the doors remained closed to him.

Asmodeus held his twin golden and black blades out before him and crossed them, switching his focus to his power and his weapons, channelling his mounting fury into them. They began to glow, growing brighter with each second that he glared at the doors before him. He couldn’t risk unleashing his power on the fortress, not while Liora was inside, but he could send the Devil a message, allowing him to sense his power.

Power that Asmodeus had never revealed to him before now.

He had always held back, only ever using a fraction of his true strength, never letting the Devil know just how strong he really was.

His power surpassed Apollyon’s.

“Face me.” Asmodeus switched the flow of his power, drawing it back into himself, absorbing it from his blades. They were key to Apollyon’s power but the fool had never thought to awaken them and then take the power they held back into him, strengthening himself.

His claws grew, black and sharp, curling around the hilts of his blades. His fangs emerged, vicious and long, his lower canines sharpening to mirror them. His eyes burned red.

Shadows swirled around his feet, dancing and twisting, lashing out at his surroundings before playfully curling around his legs.

“Face me!” he roared and the ground shook again, harder this time.

A thick menacing snarl answered him, echoing in the hot acrid air.

Asmodeus grinned and cast his gaze to his right, up the height of the spires of rock that reached upwards to tower above him.

A huge clawed foot appeared, grasping one spire and smashing it into dust. A second mirrored it, breaking down another pinnacle, sending boulders bouncing down the curved wall. They tumbled towards him, each bigger than he was. The shadows at his feet raced towards them and lashed at them, cracking as they connected and the boulders exploded, raining dust down on the black pavement of the courtyard.

Smoke curled up from behind the wall and then an emerald green eye emerged from the darkness, the vertical slit of its pupil roving the land below and then narrowing when it locked on him. An unholy roar shook the land and the dragon rose up, beating enormous black leathery wings, blasting hot air and dust at him.

Asmodeus beat his own wings, keeping himself steady and keeping the dust at bay so it didn’t steal his vision or choke his lungs.

The dragon landed on the broken section of wall. The basalt struggled to hold its immense weight, crumbling in places, causing the behemoth to stumble and fight for its footing. It beat its wings and cried out, its hooked beak opening to reveal rows of gleaming black teeth each longer than his blades.

Its skin turned black and eyes gradually melted into crimson.

Asmodeus welcomed the sign of its rage. Dragons fought best when angered and he wanted a good fight.

“Come.” He crooked his blades, beckoning the beast to him.

It leaned forwards, setting its front feet onto the wall and digging vicious claws in for support, and hissed at him.

It was furious.

Asmodeus knew why. It was angry because they had escaped him before. There would be no escape this time.