Page 22 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Demon

“Rough night?”

I merely glower at the God of Hell beneath sunken brows, my head hanging between my shoulders, elbows heavy against my knees.

For a century now, the war room has been my solitude.

Strategy comes easy here, my focus never wavering.

Yet, tonight, nothing seems to get my head right.

“I don’t like to punish, you know this.

I least of all like to punish you, but you push and push me to my wits end, Lynx.

I cannot help but to set you straight.

To insult me, then dismiss me in front of an angel? You mustn’t cross that line again. It’s you and me against the Gods, we are to be united, Lynx. You cannot turn on me like that. Do you understand?”

I choke down the urge to curse him, instead opting for a subtle nod.

Leaning back in my chair, I face Lucifer as he stands erect, his arms crossed firmly over his chest. It takes all of a second for his eyes to narrow after a quick assessment of my state.

“You’re a bloody mess.”

He notes.

“And half aroused.”

Blocking the smile fighting its way on my face, I swipe my hand over my jaw eliciting an eye roll from the Devil. Pulling out a chair across from me, he lowers himself into it.

“You told her I might not hate her as much as I think I do. Is that how you truly feel?”

I bring myself to ask.

He shrugs, hands folded, lain on the table.

“You mustn't hate her fully. You’ve clearly succumbed to your curiosities.”

“And what curiosities might those be, hmm? All knowing God?”

Lucifer’s shoulders shake with a light chuckle.

“One of my many gifts, friend. I do know everything. Especially, what happens within my own walls. The games you play with the girl – it’s not going to end well.”

“Then cast her off, let her find her own way in Hell.”

“Anyone else, maybe.”

“But because she’s a Fentonelli–”

“But because she’s a victim of your sorry soul, she’ll be compensated with shelter and protection here from the chaos of these lands.”

“She’s the only other one who’s touched the Tree of Knowledge.”

I realize.

“That too. She knows the truth, saw it. Saw my Ada. She can be of use to us in this war you know.”

I contemplate his words carefully.

“We make our first move come two weeks' time, Lynx. I cannot have your mind elsewhere. Please, I beg of you, do not let this be a distraction.”

“Perhaps a small distraction, but nothing more than a quick rip to sate my curiosity, yeah?”

He shakes his head, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

“The second we extract Ada, the war begins, you do realize this, no? We have yet to even obtain the Mortifier.”

My stomach clenches, the tickle of insects scurrying around over my organs, crawling into my gut. The Mortifier is death, tangible death curled inside a single object, buried here in Hell. Parallel to that of the Tree of Knowledge in Heaven, but it’s harrowing twin.

The only object when possessed that has the power to eradicate a God. Our unholy weapon.

Eternal life was gifted to the Heavens while absolute death lay hidden in Hell. For the reason as to why the Universe would be so insane, no one truly knows.

“I won’t let you down, Lucifer. We will get Ada back and then we’ll show them all they’ve missed out on in Hell.”

A heavy hand clamps down on my shoulder, an acceptance to the promise I’ve made him.

“All those years ago, when you first came to me, I did not think you were capable of all that you have become. A human so sure of Hell, so confident in his decision to commiserate for an eternity because of those choices made while alive. Choices you sought to continue making and look at you now. A soldier, Second in Command, preparing to strike a war for the greater good. Little by little, I’ve watched the horrors that plague your soul whittle into nothing but a measly sickness. Dare I even say you may very well be cured?”

“I don’t want or need to be cured. I took the lives of those that deserved nothing less and in death, when those very afterlives were not to be found, I knew what I had to do. The Gods save every soul that crosses their gates, as long as they’re willing to pay. A murderer? A rapist? An abuser? All finding sanctuary in the comforts of Heaven knowing – knowing! – they’re safe for eternity. It’s wrong!”

“Those Gods have too much power, there must be balance between our worlds.”

“So you shall have it, my God.”

Lucifer lingers a few breaths more before retiring to his chambers. Our conversation weighs heavily within me, swallowing whole any remaining thoughts of Briar, drunk and reeking of need.

I desperately cling to that flushed face, embarrassed and aroused all the same, but those eyes. They drag me back to a place in time that I cannot bear to remember. Green, glittering eyes, filled with such malice, such viciousness taunting me. Eyes set deep in a cruel, evil male donning a knowing smirk, standing before my younger sister. Eyes twinkling with life – writhing with it – while another set below lay empty. Tears already dried unlike the blood dripping down her thighs.

Fuck.

Discontent seeps into my marrow, making my very bones hum. Cured. The idea that time could cure such a tragedy is absurd. That blistering darkness festering in my soul is a stain that will never be freed. I cling to it, hold it dearly and cradle it, from time to time I let it grow, but never will I lay it to rest.

Sickness indeed.

A terrible, everlasting sickness.

Despite the Fentonelli girl residing on the opposite wing of the manor, I can still hear the thundering of her heart, taste her desperate gasps, feel her soft fingers enclosed around mine.

Her torment has turned into my own. My mind once again wars between this longing to be seated inside her so fully that she’s screaming my human name and dragging her down into the dungeon to get acquainted with Greygore. When I shouldn’t be thinking of her at all.

Perhaps the man who triggered an eternal hatred within me has nothing to do with the woman who haunts my thoughts. She’s blameless, even I can admit to this, but those burning eyes of jade – the same as those that taunted me, brought me to relish the feeling of bathing in my enemies’ blood – they’ve found me conflicted.

For centuries I’ve known peace in death. Watching the hope fade from the eyes of wretched souls. It's a comfort, bestowing violent justices to the worst of humankind knowing full well, I’ve committed ungodly acts myself.

And now? When I find those emerald gems settled on me a quiet rage ignites but not rage alone. The angel has seeped into my being, touched my soul, tantalized it until it wants nothing more than to ravish her, to taste her. Her wicked seduction weakens me, lures me to her until I’m mad with desire. Desire for a woman I have no business wanting.

The crimson skies darken still, a night falling over Hell. Though time does not truly exist in the afterlife, there is a shift in light here. The darkness, a willing partner, blanketing the perversion and debauchery overtaking the souls of the damned. Every bitter thought, every twisted impulse intensifies, pulsates until it becomes a living entity. Until it’s brought forth under the veil of night.

Then comes the morning, shedding a light on every depraved act committed just hours before. Showing you just how sick you are, how much you belong in Hell.

So, when the skies lighten, lifting their protection of the darkness and my hand falls from my cock, shame swells deep in my chest.

Slinking out from beneath my sweat-soaked covers, I slide into fresh undershorts. The muscles in my arms ache as I stretch into a black T-shirt and my thighs scream with the climb into my jeans. Perks of fighting off the advances of Greygore. At the very least I can happily say my ass might be the only thing that isn’t riddled with pain.

I journey to the west wing, only a small detour to the Great Hall where Lucifer and I converse over a morning spread of delicacies. A routine that we found rather suits us.

To my dismay, I find the hallway empty, not a bucket or a mop. Not even the little creature that infests my fantasies. No, she happens to be drowning in plush blankets and swallowed whole by her mattress.

The slam of her heavy door does not rouse her in the slightest. Nor does the blinding red light beaming into the room after the curtains are slung open.

“Day one and you’re already avoiding your duties.”

Gripping the edge of her blanket near her chin, I rip it back revealing a very naked body. Her nipples instantly pebble, the chilled morning air licking at her flesh.

Surprise has her body jolting upward, snatching her blanket back to hold against her. Those green eyes glassy and her hair a curtain of darkness against her pale, flushed skin.

“What the hell?! Ever heard of knocking?”

“You sleep like the dead.”

I chuckle.

“I am dead.”

“Mmm, yes. You are. Now, get up. The floors won’t clean themselves. When you’re finished maybe you can see if we’ve left you anything to eat.”

Her face heats, those rosy cheeks deepening in color.

“Where would I even find supplies to clean with? And why do I feel like shit?”

With the snap of my fingers and pure will, I conjure forth a bucket filled to the brim with suds and a mop.

“Nifty,”

she mutters, rolling her eyes.

There’s a silent battle between us, not a word spoken or a muscle twitching. Her glowering gaze finds my domineering one, neither of us willing to concede.

I can hear her heart beating; buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum, so quickly I’m almost convinced she lives. But in death, it’s just another muscle that’s forgotten there’s no need. Like how our lungs ache when holding our breath despite being unable to suffocate. It’s not real, all in our minds, just another form of torture to endure.

“Leave,”

she finally says.

“I need to get dressed.”

I tilt my head, pure amusement whirling from me like shadowed tendrils that are eager to tease. With another snap of my fingers, a dress appears in thin air, fluttering down onto her bed.

With the tips of her fingers, she holds it up, her eyes widening.

“No way. I’m not wearing this.”

That scowl... her features twist in distaste and a fury ignites beneath her skin. I find this petty torment fulfilling in many ways that I shouldn’t. I’m Second in Command. I brutalize.

I violate. I condemn souls to an eternity of misery. Why do I find such pleasure in a simple frown marring such a beautiful face?

She tosses the French Maid uniform to the floor, the tool of the short skirt splashing against the noire wood.

“Then stay naked.”

I shrug, turning on my heels to leave.

I find Lucifer sitting at the head of the long dining table in the Great Hall.

Colorful fruits adorn artfully crafted silver platters, Danishes stuffed with fillings, croissants so airy, each bite flavored with savory butter.

All untouched as the God of Hell drapes his body amongst his chair, contemplation pinching his features.

I follow his gaze to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking nothing but vast, empty lands, then the outline of the city beyond.

Only when I take the seat next to him does he pull himself from his reverie.

“What ails you, my God?”

He sighs deeply, combing a hand through his overgrown hair.

“We’ve taken decades to plan this war... what if it’s not enough? What if I get my Ada back and I find that she’s not mine any longer?”

“She was always yours, will always be yours.”

“Yet, I cannot dismiss the possibility that she may no longer find the capacity to love me after all this time.”

“Then demand it. Make it so. Do not let those Gods win.”

Lucifer’s lips pinch in displeasure.

“A forced love is not a love at all, Lynx. Best to remember that.”

I dismiss him with a grunt and divert our attentions elsewhere.

“We have our army, stationed and ready for retaliation. I will leave in two days' time to gather the Mortifier,”

I tell him.

“Everything will be right again.”

“You shall take the girl with you.”

I nearly choke on my tea, the glass clanking against its saucer as I return it.

“Why in Hell would I do such a thing?”

“You cannot go alone. No one has ever seen the Mortifier, and I refuse to send my Second into the unknown. It could be dangerous.”

“And what help could the angel be?”

“Teach her how to wield a knife or better yet, her fists.”

“In the next day?”

“While she’s not busy scrubbing?—”

Lucifer’s words cease mid-sentence as a distressed Briar barges through the double doors to the Great Hall. Wrapped in a violet sheet, she marches toward us, eyes blazing.

“That color really does suit you.”

Lucifer smiles warmly at her.

“You!”

she snarls at me with a pointed finger.

My brows raise innocently. “Me?”

“The drawers and closet were filled yesterday with more clothes than I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. Where did they all go?”

Fighting a smile, I look up at her.

“Can’t say that I know.”

The Devil rolls his eyes.

“Oh dear. Here, allow me.”

He waves his hand dismissively and the sheet draped around Briar’s naked body is replaced with an outfit similar to that of my own. A simple black T-shirt and black jeans that hug her curves like a second skin. Leave it to the Devil to don her in black.

Her chest visibly deflates with relief, the violence etched in the lines between her brows smooth out as she thanks him.

“Just the woman we wanted to see.”

He smiles, pulling out the seat next to him.

She plants herself directly across from me, a menacing grin curling her lips.

“Lynx—”

“Lucifer,” I growl.

“Hermes,”

he corrects himself.

“will be departing in two days' time?—”

“Tonight. I have to stop by the city,”

I grumble.

“May I or would you like to finish?”

He chuckles.

“You’re coming with me.”

I direct towards Briar without so much as a look.

Lucifer’s hands fold in his lap as he sits back assessing her reaction.

“Where are we going?”

That heartbeat fills the silence of the room again: buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum. But rather than anger, it’s fear that I scent.

“On a quest to find something. I’ll tell you all about it on the way.”

“Aren’t we just teleporting?”

“I’m sorry?”

I snort, the word foreign to me.

“Like when you disappear and reappear somewhere else?”

“No. My abilities are merely borrowed and with use, it can diminish Lucifer’s energy quickly. Besides, there are blind spots in our worlds where even the Gods have no power. We’ll walk by foot. I hope Heaven hasn’t instilled a false sense of endurance in you because it’s a long journey.”

“You’ll be fine, Briar. Hermes will build a camp for when you need to rest.”

Lucifer’s gaze snaps to mine as he says my name.

I shrug. “Sure.”

“Now leave us,”

he dismisses.

There’s a hefty silence that fills the room again, and when I lift my head from sipping my tea, I find two sets of eyes boring into me.

“Me?” I scoff.

“Yes, you!”

Lucifer laughs.

“You’ve always had too soft a heart, my God,”

I mumble, obeying orders.