Page 41 of The Damned (Coven of Bones #3)

M A R G O T

The light within was almost blinding as the chandelier spun in a circle, casting a pattern on the stone entryway surrounding me.

The effect was stunning, a remarkable display of craftsmanship that made the room feel like a piece of art.

“Lord Beelzebub?” a male voice asked, and I spun to look at the demon who stood atop the stairs.

He hurried down them, throwing his weight into Beelzebub’s in a friendly hug as the two men patted each other on the back.

“Moloch, shouldn’t you be convening with the Order?

” Beelzebub asked, glancing toward the clock hanging on the wall in the formal dining room through one of the arched doorways.

The ceilings were high within, curtains pulled half-closed over the angled windows that stretched from floor to ceiling and covered the front and opposite side wall.

A subtly patterned wallpaper adorned the walls behind the built-in shelves of dark redwood, the color a deep midnight blue that would have been too dark if not for the size of the room and the natural light filtering in, as well as the candles that hung from the chandelier over the massive table designed to seat at least ten.

Voices drifted out from the room, even though I could not see anyone from the angle I had peering through the doorway.

“On my way there now. They’ll be thrilled, but confused, to see you back here so soon,” the other demon said, gesturing Beelzebub forward.

He finally turned his eyes to me as Beelzebub reached out and took my hand in his, entwining his warm fingers with mine as the demon’s stare fell to the statement in that touch.

“We ran into some trouble with Michael above the surface. Satanus hasn’t sent word that he was bringing him to the prison?

” Beelzebub asked, concern lacing his voice.

I had to watch the exchange, my attention shifting back and forth between the two men as they had a silent conversation.

The other demon’s stare was full of suspicion as he looked at me, his mistrust of me and the news I was undoubtedly privy to evident in the twist of his lips.

“Must have slipped his mind. Typical Satanus,” the demon said with a roll of his eyes. “Should I have one of the staff show the woman to a room while we convene? Perhaps she would like a bath and some time to rest? This is no place for a witch, let alone a Red.”

“The woman’s name is Margot,” Beelzebub said, his voice laced with a bite of aggravation. “She stays with me. I have no secrets from her.”

I swallowed, the intensity of that statement filling me with warmth. The very notion that someone would be honest with me willingly, that I wouldn’t have to pry the truth out of them, was so unknown to me. Beelzebub trusted me with his secrets. Could I trust him with mine?

“Very well,” Moloch said, nodding his head thoughtfully. His disapproval was clear in the bitter smile he plastered onto his face, accompanied by a frustrated shake of his head as Beelzebub spun away to lead me into the dining room behind us.

The table was ornate as we passed by it, and I couldn’t resist the urge to run my hand over the carefully crafted lines of wood and the chairs that mimicked the circular pattern etched into the table.

“You like it?” Beelzebub asked, his attention fixated on where my hands explored the grooves and lines in the wood.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, pulling my hand back. A flush warmed my cheek, the moment feeling far more carnal than it should have with Beel’s intense red stare on me.

Moloch strode around us, but I couldn’t pull my stare away from Beelzebub as he shifted closer to me.

“Beelzebub!” a feminine voice said, breaking the moment as I turned to face the woman making her way toward us.

She glided forward on heeled feet, a terracotta-colored dress swirling about her legs.

It hung loosely off her shoulders, draping over her body like it had been cut to fit her and made of the finest fabric.

It molded to her flawlessly. Her lips spread into a familiar smile as she closed the distance between her and Beelzebub.

Her arms spread like she intended to touch him, and the sly glance she gave me was full of questions.

I tried to pull my hand back from his, wincing when he tightened his grip in a refusal to release me.

“Proserpina,” Beelzebub said, his voice devoid of all warmth.

The woman’s smile faltered, her brow furrowing as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him far too tightly.

Her body pressed into his with the contact, marking what she believed to be her territory.

Jealousy bloomed behind my eyes, my teeth clenching as I fought back the urge to tear her arms from his body.

I had no right to feel that way, even as she pulled back and ran her hands over his chest affectionately.

Beelzebub for his part took a step back, leaving her hands to fall away as he shifted closer to me, putting my body between him and the demoness.

Proserpina’s gaze shifted down to me fully, taking in the sight of me as Beelzebub twisted our arms, raising our clasped hands so that his arm rested across my chest, joined with mine at my hip.

His breath fanned over my temple as he leaned closer, and I felt like I’d found myself caught in the middle of a war of wills.

She wanted him, that much was clear, and the gluttonous were not accustomed to being deprived of the things they wanted.

The question that I had yet to figure out was about the nature of their relationship prior to this moment.

Proserpina certainly behaved as if she knew Beelzebub intimately, but that didn’t mean she did.

Maybe it was just my wishful thinking, but I hoped it was more an instance of a woman who wanted to be intimate with him rather than one who already had been.

I wasn’t stupid enough to think that Beelzebub was a virgin, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see everything I would never be staring back at me, or compare myself to the confident, experienced women of his past.

“Everything alright?” a man asked as he stepped up, his blond hair shaggy as he shoved his hands into the pockets of the same soft leather pants all the men seemed to wear.

“We’re fine,” Proserpina murmured, recovering quickly with a breathtaking smile that had a malicious edge. “I simply didn’t realize Beelzebub was going through a blond phase again.”

“Don’t,” Beelzebub warned, his arm tightening across my chest. The growl that came from him was for her, not for me, but I knew at that moment exactly the nature of their relationship. My muscles tightened with anger, my own cruel smile rising to meet hers as hunger made my stomach cramp.

If I hadn’t already come to the conclusion, her next words would have confirmed it.

“He’ll come back to me again when he’s done.

He prefers brunettes,” she said, turning away to smile at the man who had come up to support her.

He smiled as if she were an unruly child, and even though the words hadn’t been directed at me, there was no doubting the intended target of her cruelty.

“Margot…” Beelzebub said, and though he continued speaking, I stopped hearing him over the ringing in my ears.

I didn’t want his excuses, especially not when he didn’t owe me anything, but that didn’t stop me from craving blood from the woman who had so callously tried to wound me when she knew nothing about me.

I’d lived enough of my life surrounded by women who might have torn one another down at the first opportunity.

It had taken the development of my closest friendships for me to realize just how toxic those relationships were.

And how much more they said about the person wielding their own cruelty than about the victims.

I was so tired of being someone’s punching bag, of being the recipient of unnecessary cruelty. I was done lying down so that others could kick me more easily.

I tore myself away from Beelzebub so suddenly that he stumbled forward, unraveling myself from his grip as I stormed toward the demoness.

She turned as I approached, a condescending smile falling from her face as she took in the sight of me.

The hand I raised to her throat was covered in the faint sheen of scales, iridescent in the light streaming in the windows as I wrapped them around her throat.

My gums ached as I rolled my neck, lifting the demon from the ground so her feet kicked aimlessly as she stared down at me in horror.

I strode forward, slamming her into the wall so harshly that it shook beneath the force.

Books thumped against one another on the shelves closest to us.

“What are you?” she asked, her hands grasping at her throat. She dug her nails into my skin, drawing my blood to the surface. The scent of it mixed with the hunger erupting through me, the need to tear her limb from limb and gorge myself on her so unlike me that I blinked.

The anger rocketing through me was unlike me. It didn’t feel like mine, and yet I couldn’t deny my fury that she thought she could own something that I wanted.

The admission, even to myself, didn’t sober me as much as it should have. Instead, it spurred me on, letting me sink into that gluttonous feeling and the need to keep Beelzebub for myself.

The need for him, and all his attention, to be mine.

“Holy shit,” the blond demon said, stepping forward to stare at the side of my face. “It’s been centuries…”

“Enough,” Beelzebub said behind me as he moved to stand beside me so I could see him from the corner of my eye.

“I have no problem with you playing with her, songbird. Just try not to give in to that desire to eat her, at the very least. That taste is hard to get rid of, and I’ll be very upset if I have to taste her when I kiss you later. ”