Hell's Gift (8 page)

The blade was in my heart. I could feel each pump of my heart around the steel. I could also tell the muscle was failing. Would I actually die? Could a person die in Hell? Where would I go? I worried again. Surely not Heaven. She wouldn’t have been so eager to send me packing to the good side, even if they would have me back.

My blurred vision focused on Death and the sly smile that was creeping across her face. “You, bitch,” I said.

The last thing I remember was watching her hand reach to retrieve the dagger from my breast.

Chapter 10

Malcolm

“I’ve got to do something,” Josselyn said through her tears as she tore from the room in a mad dash toward Isaiah’s chambers.

Malcolm caught up with her quickly, grabbing her around the waist and holding her to his unyielding body. Her feather-like hits and kicks weren’t affecting him at all.

“Stop, Jossel.” When she didn’t comply, Malcolm squeezed her a little tighter to him. “I said, stop!” The wails turned to soft whimpers. He turned her around and pulled her to his chest, gently rubbing his fingers over her blonde locks as she cried.

“What is this nonsense? You know you can’t barge into the archangel’s chambers and tell him what we’ve done. It is extremely difficult for me to keep the guardians from knowing what we’re doing to help Rhyan. I can’t imagine they would be happy with us after Isaiah has already instructed you to stay out of it, that it is too dangerous to help him.”

He pushed her away so he could look at her tear-streaked face. Her lids were closed and trembling as they leaked clear drops of sadness.

She’s beautiful,
Malcolm thought. He would’ve given almost anything to be the one to make her smile again, but sadly he feared he wasn’t the angel she saw holding her when she closed her eyes. He framed her face in the palms of his hands and wiped the new tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs as she fought to catch her breath.

“Open your eyes and look at me, Josselyn,” Malcolm pleaded, but dreaded what he would see in their depths. He prayed he was wrong in assuming what her reasons were for saving Rhyan.

Her lashes fluttered open like the wings of a butterfly, and behind them in her brown eyes was the answer he wasn’t looking for.

Malcolm released her and took a step back. His breathing was erratic as he dropped his gaze and placed his hands on his hips. He knew this wasn’t going to end well for her, and he was certain the odds were not going to be in his favor, either.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Jossel—”

Fire blazed in her glare. “I’m not doing—”

Malcolm’s head shot up to look at her again. “Don’t tell me you’re not in love with him! I can see it…” He ran his hand over his face and forced calm into his voice before finishing his thought. “…I can see it in your eyes,” he finished in a pained tone.

She turned on her heel and began to stalk off. “I don’t have time for this.”

“He can’t love you. He has found his soulmate, Josselyn.” Malcolm watched as she stopped in her tracks, and then as her body began to shake.

She turned back to him with fresh tears in her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not true. You didn’t tell him that when he was—”

“Because he has to realize it on his own. If I had told him everything I knew, he would have given up or maybe he would never accept it, which would give him a permanent spot in Hell. I couldn’t take that chance and still expect him to make it back to Heaven…with her.”

“No…” Her bottom lip quivered under the intensity of the truth in his eyes.

Malcolm groaned and clenched his jaw in frustration. “I’m not going to watch you do this to yourself—”

“Then don’t,” she snapped. “Go away and leave me alone! I don’t have to believe it if I choose not to.” She rubbed her hands together nervously, then looked back at him with a blank stare. She didn’t want to believe him, but she knew it wasn’t possible for him to lie. Why? Why Rhyan of all the angels in Heaven? She could make him happy again. She looked up at Malcolm with sad eyes. “You know who she is, don’t you?” Malcolm let out a heavy breath and nodded once. “Tell me.”

Abigail

“Perhaps we should convene this meeting when everyone is mentally, as well as physically, here with us.”

She could hear a voice speaking, but the words didn’t seem to matter in the least. The look on the face of the stranger as she shoved the entire six inches of her double-edged dagger into his heart was still painted clear in her mind.

The right side of her lips turned upward into a half smile as his last words rang through her head again.
“You, bitch.”
Indeed she was, and from the look on his face he hadn’t known that she would get to be a bitch to him again and again and again.

The familiarity in his blue eyes had taken her aback a bit. She had noticed them before, but never so closely. She found herself wanting to know his secrets. And she was sure he had secrets. He was different. She couldn’t read him at all. Lucifer had been the only other person that didn’t broadcast loud and clear to her, and that was only because he was strong enough to block her.

It also puzzled her that he seemed to still possess his soul. She would definitely have to have another look through those magnetic, bright as the sky eyes of his. Surely she was mistaken. The soul is automatically lifted when the spirit enters Hell.

The clearing of a throat distracted her thoughts, bringing her out of her personal and satisfying daydream. “Are we boring you, Abigail? Care to share with us what amuses you so?”

Abigail slowly lifted her eyes to meet the dark, beautiful windows staring back at her. Her heart gave a small leap at his beauty. The perfection in every inch of his defined body always took her breath away. The black irises, which her own eyes were drawn to, blended so perfectly with his pupils that it was as if all of Hell’s souls could be seen within their depths. They were hypnotizing to say the least. The coal-black, perfectly arched lines above his eyes, slightly raised in a question, let her know he wasn’t at all pleased with her lack of interest in the meeting. His meeting.

Lucifer didn’t appear angry; he never did wear his emotions on his sleeve for everyone to see. She probably knew him better than anyone, but even she wasn’t allowed into the deepest, darkest part of his mind. He made sure of that.

She shook her head slightly, but kept eye contact with her master. Looking away would have cost her dearly after everyone present went back to their duties. “I was only replaying in my mind the welcome gift I gave to a new minion earlier. Unfortunately for him, he was a little out of place and needed guidance…” she cleared her throat, “…and a personality adjustment. I had to introduce my dagger to his heart.”

Lucifer stared her down, face grim and lacking any emotion. He didn’t comment further on the subject of her daydreaming. His eyes shifted to the other side of the massive stone table, but Abigail could still feel his stare boring a hole through her as if he hadn’t looked away at all.

An uncomfortable pressure settled behind her eyes and she knew that, even though Lucifer was focused on and engaged in conversation with Baddon, he was also reading her every thought. She didn’t need any more warning than that to give her full attention to the meeting. Her fantasies could wait until later.

“You haven’t met your quota of souls for the quarter. Do I need to look into this further or are you on top of things?” Lucifer asked Baddon, and she risked a glance at the giant. His red hair was brighter than the hottest lava. His cerulean blue eyes sparkled in the shadowy lighting of Lucifer’s conference quarters. There was a nervous tremble in his one hand that was atop the smooth stone table. Not just anyone would have noticed it, but she did, and she bet Lucifer had, as well.

Please, just say you’re on top of things,
Abigail thought, willing Baddon to hear her, but sadly, it looked as though he wasn’t concentrating on receiving any mental messages from her or anyone.

Although troubled, Baddon’s frame was steady and solid as a rock. A round rock that happened to be rolling and bouncing down a hill, but at least he kept eye contact with Lucifer. He needed all the brownie points he could get. She hoped he got it together and said something soon. Lucifer hadn’t ever listened to too much stuttering or silence before taking matters to the next level. A dangerous, unwanted level in Baddon’s case.

Baddon cleared his throat for the second time, then began. “I’ve had several guardians lose their charges to the angels.” The poor guy was almost in tears under Lucifer’s heavy gaze.

Abigail closed her eyes briefly, pitying the big demon. This was not going to end well for him, but maybe Baddon’s irresponsibility would keep the beautiful master beast distracted enough so he wouldn’t question her further about the new minion. vzyl She wasn’t prepared to answer those particular questions yet.

When Lucifer only continued to stare at Baddon, he continued, “They have all been punished to the utmost extent. There are twice as many training now to take their place—”

“Mayhap I need to put someone in training to take your place,” Lucifer suggested calmly, but everyone in the room knew he was anything but calm.

Baddon dropped his head in shame, and with it went his eye contact from Lucifer’s scolding stare.

The next series of events were so much of a blur that Abigail had trouble following. Not that she really wanted to. It was like being sucked into the core of a tornado and forced to watch the devastating destruction happening around you.

Lucifer was the tornado, and the debris at the moment was Baddon as he bounced helplessly off the ceiling, walls and floor surrounding them.

Nobody dared to move.

Over and over again Lucifer grasped Baddon’s thick throat, throwing him great lengths across the room into the granite walls or slamming him to the floor.

Baddon never once fought back or even tried to protect his flesh from the heavy blows cast upon him. Doing so would have meant an unthinkable fate.

In the middle of a wild swing, Baddon’s massive leg caught Lameria, Princess of the Syde of Greed, in the chest, overturning the chair she always sat in. Straight fear kept her frozen on the floor, but she wasn’t stupid enough to look away from Lucifer as the lesson was taught to Baddon.

Everyone understood when a lesson was being learned that every eye needed to be watching so as the lesson didn’t need to be taught twice. Lucifer hated repeating himself, and the punishment Baddon was getting now was gravy compared to what would happen to the next person that made the same mistake.

Abigail couldn’t believe Lucifer hadn’t chastised her in front of the other royalty for letting her thoughts wander earlier.

Baddon’s three hundred plus pound body was swung through the air over Lucifer’s shoulder and deposited in a crumpled mess of blood and loose flesh in the center of the indestructible stone table. It didn’t crack, but the echo of breaking bones could be heard by every ear in the room.

Without a wrinkle in his tailored button down or a hair out of place, Lucifer returned to his seat at the head of the table.

Lameria scrambled back to her seat without so much as even a bothered glance from Lucifer.

The unconscious centerpiece on the table didn’t move a muscle throughout the rest of the meeting. But it was acknowledged by all. It was a warning to remind everyone who was still in charge and who always would be.

Abigail shuddered to think the show with Baddon had been directed toward her. To let her know that she was important to him, but he wouldn’t let even her make him look like a fool again.

Chapter 11

Abigail was the last to rise after Lucifer declared the meeting adjourned. A sense of relief washed over her as she was able to finally look away from him without fear of being struck down. Not that he had ever hit her, with an angry hand anyway; great sex could get a little rough at times. She just had a feeling his patience was wearing thin where she was concerned.

Damien and Velan each took an arm of the still unconscious Baddon and pulled him from the table, dragging his limp form out the door. He would make a full recovery in no time, but she didn’t doubt for a second he would be stupid enough to make the same mistake again. He would also be expected to beg Lucifer’s forgiveness. That wasn’t an easy thing to achieve. Lucifer had been known to make his insolent children plead for decades before he granted it.

She gathered her notes, as steadily as a crack head having withdrawals, and then proceeded to become the caboose of the train of people filing out and as far away from the king of Hades as they could manage.

“Abigail,”
the whisper brushed over her mind. She stilled, then rubbed absently at the goosebumps rising on her arms from the sound of his voice in her head.

Something had changed in her. She didn’t know what it was, but she no longer hungered for Lucifer’s hands on her skin. The new minion was the only male that burned like a forest fire in her mind.

She worried she would not make it out of this room in one piece. He could see through the faintest of lies. She suspected he already sensed her distance, but she was smart enough to try and hide it.

Abigail looked up to see Thoros, Prince of Lust, give her a wink and an obscene gesture with his tongue wiggling between two fingers before he shut the door, leaving her and Lucifer in the room, alone. The act wouldn’t have bothered her yesterday, but she was all of a sudden having problems - problems with being with Lucifer or even thinking about him touching her.

Of course, she wasn’t stupid, so she sucked it up and let her breath release slowly from her lips, then forced her frown into a hollow smile before she turned around to face the prime evil.

A low growl started deep within his chest but grew louder with each passing second. He was hungry. Abigail couldn’t fight the instant tightening of her core. She was powerless against his dark magic. She almost crippled as the need thrust forward and consumed her. He was bringing her into heat and it was glorious and agonizing at the same time.