When Spell Freezes Over (All My Exes Die From Hexes Book 4) Page 4

  Chapter 4

  Marc shimmied, retreating into the corner until his back hit the wall. “Lucifer?”

  “So you do remember me. And here I thought you’d gone all cliquey, hanging out with Azazel and his band of mutineers.”

  “I can’t go against Azazel’s demands. You know that, and how much I detest you for your part on that becoming the metric ton of fuck-this that is now my life.” He examined their morbid environs. “Where are we?”

  “The sixth ring, aka, the Prison of the Immortals.” Lucifer leaned towards the bars, as if he could see anything of definition outside of them. “Hades originally had these cells built for the cerebi. They isolate creatures that have magic. Nephilim, demons, imps—” He coughed on a chuckle. “Angels, apparently. You should consider this an honor. Azazel must see you as a real threat if he stuck you in here with me.”

  “Doubtful. He keeps teaching me magic, then doesn’t let me use it.” Just like he kept pushing him into Riona’s proximity, then cockblocking him when things got too serious. “He’s dicking around with me.”

  “And here I thought I was the only fallen angel you...” His eyebrows bobbed. “Dicked around with. Such vulgar repartee, Marc. Becoming a demon has really loosened your tongue.”

  “My tongue was plenty loose when I was human and a priest,” he spat back. “And strong.”

  Lucifer licked his lips. “Are you flirting with me?”

  The slick British accent emanating from the handsome, rough-skinned fallen angel with broad shoulders, a five o’clock shadow, and enough muscles to choke a crocodile, made Marc’s stomach churn. He’d been with that. He’d put his dick in... that. True, he thought it was Riona at the time, but still.

  Lucifer’s mouth curled into a devious smile as he hugged his knees in his seated position and leaned forward. “Am I making you uncomfortable, priest?”

  “No, I’m...” He swallowed. There was nothing to be gained by lying, and nothing to be lost from honesty. “I don’t have a problem with homosexuality. It’s just, I’m not...”

  “It’s not a sin to be a homosexual, Marc. Not according to our laws.” He tilted his head to the side. “You should know that. Besides, I’m an angel. Fallen, maybe, but that’s my nature. Technically, I don’t have a gender.”

  “I know, I know.”

  Lucifer glared at him, almost as if he meant to accuse him of something. After a few moments, the devil huffed, rose to his feet, and pulled in a deep breath. As he exhaled, the edges of his body ceded definition. As if he could actually melt into the rock, Marc pressed himself back even farther, practically clawing his way up the wall. A moment later, as he blinked wildly, he found himself completely dumfounded. Where the dark lord of the underworld, Beelzebub himself, had been, now stood the black-haired, dark-eyed feminine adaption of Lucifer, complete with skin tight jeans, leather bustier, and fuck-me boots.

  Sexy Devil: the Halloween costume.

  Lucifer—Lucy eyeballed Marc, her hands open. “Better now?”

  As much as he hated to admit it, it was. “I thought you said this cell disables the magical.”

  Lucy pivoted and took a seat next to him, like they were out on a picnic and sitting down for lunch. “No, I said it isolates them. We can still do all our usual magic, the effects of it just can’t reach outside the cell. Like screaming into a vacuum—the words you use don’t matter, ain’t no one hearing you. So, what are you in for?”

  Ah, so some parts of demonic jail resembled the real world after all. “Adultery, apparently. You?”

  “You know, the usual. Being an inconvenient road block to a coup d’état that will eventually lead to the end of all life as we know it.” Lucy shrugged, then seemed to sober. “Wait, adultery? Why would the Grigori give a damn who a demon screws?”

  “Seems to matter if it was Riona.”

  Lucy laughed. “Yeah, sure. You slept with Riona. Good one.” When Marc’s expression didn’t change, she straightened. “Holy shit, you’re not kidding. How? When?”

  “She showed up in my room at Azazel’s house out of the blue. I don’t know how—one moment she was just there, and then, before I even realized what was happening, we were at it.”

  “Aaaand?” Lucy pulled out the word like taffy.

  “And what?”

  She kid punched him in the shoulder. “And, was it everything you thought it would be? I mean, it was your first time and all.”

  “No, my first time was with you.” He felt a blush of embarrassment beat its wings over his features.

  “Oh, come on, that doesn’t count. Sex is the only sport where the only way to win is in an O-O tie. Besides, you hate me. But you loved Riona. It had to be different.”

  Instinctively, he wanted to correct Lucy, reminding the devil that he still loved Riona, but he thought it best to keep that hidden for the moment. “I don’t know, I guess. But it doesn’t matter...” He swallowed down the bitterness, remembering the devastation that had begun to hatch across her face in the aftermath. “She regretted it as soon as we were done.”

  “I can sympathize. I felt the same way after we were together.”

  The fact that he currently had a heavenly blade magically disguised on his person probably should stay concealed as well, despite how much he’d like to familiarize Lucy’s tongue with it. “Thanks.”

  “No, I mean, I really regretted it.” She shifted closer. “Believe it or not, Marc, I don’t actually like bringing down good people. The ones who are already evil or really have it coming? Oh, yeah. Them I don’t lose a wink of sleep over. Not that I sleep, but still... But every so often, someone perfectly good heads my way due to a technicality, and I honestly hate it. If you’d trusted in your own moral judgment instead of letting the Church take that over for you, you wouldn’t be here. You were a good guy, one of the best in my opinion. The fact that you got pulled into Hell? It’s a fucking travesty.”

  “You’re being sincere, aren’t you?”

  “Surprised by that?” Lucy sighed, smoothing out an imaginary skirt with delicate fingers. “Well, there’s your great revelation. Remember, I was one of the good guys once. You think it was chance that I ended up the one in charge down here? Nope, we all got kicked out of Heaven, but I was the one who tried to make some amends for our revolt. That’s why I got the post of the Satan.”

  “Lotta good that did,” Marc said, motioning around to their surroundings. “Take a look: you’ve been deposed.”

  “Oh, I’m not quite overthrown yet,” Lucy said. “There are a few provisos in the accords that will make their hostile takeover more difficult than they expected. Let’s just say, when I was negotiating terms, I wrote myself in a golden parachute.”

  “Get to keep your penthouse suite in Hell-A? Is there one ring to rule them all they hand you on the way out?”

  “Better. I get to name my successor.”

  Marc did a double take. “Does Michael know that?”

  “Maybe. He wasn’t the one who represented the heavenly realm in the negotiations. Gabriel was, but the Council of Seven are a bunch of gossipy old hags. Frankly, I don’t think Michael cares. No, his concern is making sure his daughter teeters on the edge of sin and salvation just long enough to be useful and easily manipulated.”

  “I know Riona is a pretty powerful witch, and I’m sure the fact that she turned out to be the daughter of the prince has to count for something, but what exactly is it they’re planning to do?”

  Lucy narrowed her eyes on the fallen priest. “Did I miss something, demon? When did you and I become girlfriends who are going to sit around and gossip about our coworkers?”

  “One, about ten minutes ago. And two... you used me and got me to be hell bound. You owe me something, don’t you think? Besides, you and I got shoved into the same place by the same people. As much as I hate it, I’m willing to bet this is one of those, the enemy of my enemy is my friend situations.”

  The devil positively grinned, looking almost proud of the demon. />
  “So,” Marc continued, “dish. Why is Riona so critical to this plan of theirs? How can a keystone witch, even a half angel one, make any difference?”

  Lucy giggled into the palm of her hand. The girlish affectation made her coquettish. Marc tried to ignore how his body noticed the jiggle in her cleavage.

  “The thing that’s really going to fuck up your concept of who’s good and who’s bad in the situation, my dear Marc, is when you realize my attempts to make Riona fall were, in part, my attempt to put her in a position where she was no longer any use for any of my back-stabbing Grigori. Especially Azazel. He’s too fucking smart for his own good. Wouldn’t surprise me if Michael creating an offspring was somehow his whole idea to begin with.”

  “So you’re saying your attempt to seduce Riona even before she became a Keystone had other motivations than satisfying your cock? That would take a tremendous amount of insight—and a complete suspension of belief on my part.”

  “First, I would have had her as a woman or a man, so don’t pigeonhole me. And two, insight, shimsight. That witch has an angel spark in her that nearly made me give up my vow never to lay with a human woman.” The devil didn’t feign humility. “I’m not nearly as clueless as the Grigori or Michael think I am. I knew Riona was more than mortal. I was tossing off twice a day just from having scented her. Plus, I knew Azazel’s been looking for a way back to our native realm for some time. He’s had a go at a progeny twice, hoping a half-and-half under his command could shift the balances enough for him to find a loophole. Both times, I’ve been lucky enough to corrupt his half-breed in time. Not that they could have done what Az was banking on anyway.”

  “Yeah, why is that?”

  “Az assumed his progeny would be born with all his abilities, perhaps just diminished some. In some ways, he was right. They’ve turned out to be damned powerful wiccans. Any angel in good standing can enter the heavenly realm, but that feat has proven a bit too advanced for his kidlets. I don’t think they’d even know to try. It’s such a...” Her eyes went glassy, as though she had surrounded herself in the indulgence of a highly pleasurable memory. “...enrapturing experience. But if one could create a portal to Heaven, like those we make you demons use to get in and out of the human world... Well, that would change the game a bit.”

  The whole concept of portals had made Marc roll his eyes at first. Nevertheless, they were the only way for demons to transcend into the mortal realm. Angels could pop all about wherever they pleased, but a demon could only port himself around the Underworld at will. If he ever needed to make a trip soil-side-up, he first had to poof himself to the nearest port and hoof it topside on foot. Of course, a few portals to other realms remained—the nephilim realm, Nirvana, once upon a time, Enron headquarters.

  He’d never thought how the portals came to be, but there had to be some sort of creature responsible for them, didn’t there? When Michael had joined their side, the task was even easier. The fallen prince had a particular knack for opening portals at will, though his ability to breach Heaven had vanished with his Council of Seven membership.

  “Aren’t there portals to the heavenly realm already?”

  “Poor, innocent, ignorant Marc. No, my boy. In the ancient world, there were a few. You’ve heard of the Holy of Holies, right? But those were all sealed long, long ago. Otherwise, Azazel would have used them already. Every archangel was endowed by Big Boss with one unique ability the others don’t possess. For Michael, it’s the ability to create portals between the realms that anyone can pass through.”

  “Yeah, what was your super ability?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? To know the true nature of men. I’m an empath. That’s why I was a natural devil. I could tell if men’s intentions were truly good or evil. It’s how I knew you were one of the good ones.” Her mouth curled up in invitation. “Would you like to know what Azazel’s gift is?”

  “The ability to be a complete asshat?”

  “Sadly, that isn’t unique nor confined to the angels. No, Marc, Azazel can play with memories. Change them, enhance them, know them. Erase them. That one is the clincher. There are other angels that can suppress mortal memories, but only Azazel can poke about in the minds of any creature to cut and paste at will. That is, until he begot progeny who inherited his gift.”

  Marc let the comment fall to the ground. Only when it settled and he had a chance to gain perspective did it hit him. “That’s not possible.”

  “Think about it: since you were a child, you were inherently drawn to the Church. You have faith few men could equal. Oh, and you developed magical abilities out of nowhere, it would seem. Despite what you told Riona that day in the diner, no one else in your family ever showed the slightest indication of magic.”

  “How did you know—”

  “My mirror.” Lucy cut his words off, pushing a fingertip against his lips. “It sharpens my power, Marc. That’s how it works. It uses my ability to see when a mortal contemplates sin, combined with a simple seeing eye charm. Now, a little white lie like that wouldn’t be enough for most people to show, but you’re not most people. In fact, you’ve shown up in my mirror pretty regularly.”

  He felt his lips curl instinctively, laying a gentle token of desire on the devil’s right index finger. He looked to her through heavy lidded eyes, but she seemed to only be amused by his attraction, tracing the moist tip over his lips before stroking his jaw line.

  “And then there’s your own angelic spark. I saw the look in your eyes when I mentioned your faith, but that’s how I know it was so strong. You’ve wanted to screw something since you were old enough to understand the tingles in your crotch. Your faith in what was right suppressed it. Now that you’ve been released from the bond of celibacy, though, it’s risen to the surface.” She leaned in. “Riona’s got the same drive, but she’s as strong as you. Otherwise, she would have slept with me the first time I saw her. Hmm... I bet when you two finally got together, it was more of an instinctive, quick, wild fuck than an emotional rollercoaster of love making, wasn’t it? And given that she’s been sating her desire so easily all her life, she probably didn’t even realize fully what she was doing. Bet she regretted it almost immediately.”

  Now when Marc spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “I erased her memory before she had a chance to regret it.”

  “Of course you did. Just like your father—your biological father—must have done with your mother.” Lest Marc forget that the sexy seductress next to him was, in fact, Satan, Lucy’s face became pure evil. “Did you know your human father and mother hadn’t slept together in months when he found out she was pregnant? Oh, your mom insisted and insisted that she hadn’t been with anyone else. As far as she remembered, she hadn’t. That’s why your parents divorced; your dad might have forgiven infidelity, but it was her so-called dishonesty he never overcame. Better that she couldn’t tell him the truth, though. I mean, who would want to stay with a woman who had been with an angel, and bore a son of Hell?”

  “Holy shit, I’m the antichrist.”

  “Pish posh. No such thing. That’s all anti-Roman propaganda. What you are is much worse, Marc.”

  “Yeah?” Marc spit out. “What’s that exactly?”

  “You’re a man who has a score to settle with a dark angel. You’re the man who’s going to kill Azazel.”

  In his mind’s eye, he saw a flash of the weapon hidden at his side. A surly grin lifted the corner of his lips. “I am, aren’t I?”

  “And do you know how you’re going to do it?”

  Marc shied his eyes away. Did Lucy know he had the blade? It seemed ludicrous, the notion that she might. “How?”

  Lucy pivoted. One moment she was beside him, and the next, she had straddled him, her hands threading his hair. She lowered herself to him until she was inches away from his lips.

  “By using some of that faith of yours to help me.”

  And then she kissed him.

  The devil kissed him, and Marc kissed he
r back.

  Chapter 5

  The latch of this necklace always gave her trouble.

  Frustrated, Persephone threw the string of pearls—fished from the Aegean by Odysseus himself—to the floor. The worn thread severed from the blow, sending miniscule pearlescent balls rolling around the floor. One found its way to Hades’s heel, where he stood in the doorway. After closing the doors behind him, he leaned over, pinched the bead between two fingers and brought it to eye level.

  “On the day of your coronation, you would wear the braid of Poseidon’s realm, and not the rubies, diamonds, and sapphires I called for you from the depths of the earth?”

  She smiled weakly. “I was worried about optics.”

  “Optics?” His brow furrowed.

  “Something I picked up doing business back in Boston.” She waived a hand dismissively. “It’s the current buzz word in marketing and PR; the perceived symbolism or significance of a public image. It’s Olympus, Hades, and servants gossip. Everyone will know by now that we were divorced last night. If I appear donned up in stuff you lavished on me, some might say that you’ve ornamented me in a display of your right to rule.”

  “Most of them think I’ve been trying to kill my brother for years anyway. You honestly think they’ll take my jewel upon you as my collaring you, like that’s the way I’ve found to obtain the throne? Through brutish dominance?” He placed the pearl on the corner of her dressing table. “But I suppose you’re right. How you first appear before them as Queen of the Mountain is critical. For them, Zeus’ death will be an out-of-the-blue event. He’s ruled the mountain for centuries, with no tolerance for misdeeds. You’ll be challenged as a woman taking on the mantle of the lightning. They need to know, you are a ruler to be feared and respected, just like your father.”

  She rolled her fingers through the air. “Like I said, optics.”