Her Wicked Angel - Summary

Her Wicked Angel

The King of Demons and the Devil’s right hand man, Asmodeus is a dark angel born of evil and created for destruction. When his master orders him to venture into the mortal world and retrieve a female for him, he seizes the chance to leave Hell for the first time, uncaring of what the Devil has planned for her… until he sets eyes on the most beautiful woman he has ever seen—a female who awakens new feelings within his black heart, unleashing passion so intense that it controls him and desire he cannot resist.

He will not let his wretched master have her. She will belong to him.

Liora is a witch with a bad reputation and an obsession with fighting demons. A mission gone wrong sees her sent to Paris to cool off, but when a dark and deadly warrior with a gaze of golden fire lands in her life, she ends up burning hotter than Hell for the wicked angel. Nothing will stand between her and the immense, forbidding male. Not her cousin. Not Asmodeus’s sworn enemy and twin, Apollyon. And certainly not the Devil.

Caught up in a tempest of danger and soul-searing passion, can they survive against the odds and seize their forever after?

 

This is a 6 chapter sample, not a complete book. For information on where the book is available, please visit:

http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/hwa

Copyright

Copyright © 2013 Felicity Heaton

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

The right of Felicity Heaton to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First printed September 2013

First Edition

Layout and design by Felicity Heaton

All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Cover by Felicity Heaton

Chapter 1

It was a black day in Hell.

Asmodeus stood high above the bottomless pit, his amber gaze locked on the tall obsidian spires in the distance. Screams and sobs rose up from below him on the hot air, the grunts of their tormentors a harsher note in a symphony he so often enjoyed. The demons were busy today. He had been busy too until he had felt the call of his master.

As much as he had wanted to keep the Devil waiting while he had finished his latest masterpiece, he had dropped everything and left his castle in the wastelands via a portal that had brought him to the plateau above the bottomless pit.

And there he stood, debating how long he could put off crossing the cragged, grim landscape to the Devil’s fortress before his master lost his temper and called him again.

Asmodeus enjoyed pushing the male right to the limit of his patience. There was something satisfying about irritating his so-called master. The Devil would be able to sense his proximity and that he hadn't moved in close to twenty minutes. It was a game of wills he often played with him. Who would break first?

The call came again, stronger than it had been before, a tug he felt as a physical yank on his ribs, pulling him forwards towards the fortress.

A reminder that he was given freedom in Hell, but he was not master of it.

Asmodeus tipped forwards and plummeted towards the snaking wide ribbon of lava hundreds of feet below. Hot air rushed at him, sweeping his black hair back, battering his bare chest and ruffling his feathers. He stretched his obsidian wings to their full span, caught a thermal and levelled out just metres from the fiery surface of one of the principal rivers in Hell.

He gave a leisurely flap to keep his altitude and glided across the black, forbidding terrain.

Hell’s angels stalked the land below him in their demonic forms. Dragon-like wings furled against their huge black bodies and their claws made quick work of the whimpering lesser demons they were dealing with for their master. Some demons were little more than pests in Asmodeus’s eyes, and the eyes of his master. They caused more trouble than they were worth.

Asmodeus grinned, turned into a barrel roll and swooped down at one of the small scaly brown demons. He plucked it from the ground, had snapped its neck before it could even loose a shriek, and dropped it on the head of one of the Hell’s angels in charge of cleaning up the area. The male snarled at him, exposing sharp red teeth, the fires of Hell burning in his crimson eyes.

Asmodeus flipped him off and beat his black feathered wings, resuming his course. He weaved as he flew, following the thermals that would carry him to the Devil’s fortress without him having to expend any effort. What did his master want with him?

He didn’t bother Asmodeus often. Normally, when he called upon him, it was to give him an important mission. Torture a captive demon for information on the angels. Track down a traitor in one of the more dangerous regions of Hell. Drown someone in a lake of lava.

Kill one of the angels who protected the plateau, Heaven’s only sanctioned area in Hell.

Personally, Asmodeus couldn’t see why they had access to any part of Hell. No creature of this realm was allowed to set foot in Heaven unless they were shackled and contained in the prison there. How was that fair? If Heaven could station a small contingent of angels in Hell, then Hell should be allowed to station some of its men in Heaven.

Asmodeus’s grin widened.

He had sent his pet there recently. How had he fared?

Nevar had been a guardian angel until Asmodeus had found him snooping at the pool that recorded the history of the three realms. He had dealt with the curious angel, battling him until he was weak and then pushing him over the edge. The male was tainted now, turning as wicked as his new master. Asmodeus.

He had wanted Nevar to shake Heaven, but it seemed his wolf had failed to blow down the fortress as instructed. Perhaps he should have waited until Nevar had grown stronger, the darkness within him in full control, but patience had never been his strong suit. It was part of the reason he often lost the game of wills he played with the Devil and something he was working on. Now, Asmodeus had lost track of Nevar. What was he up to?

Asmodeus wanted to know, but since he had sent the angel to Heaven and he could not leave Hell, it was impossible for him to find out. He didn’t doubt that their paths would cross again soon. Nevar had been hell-bent on killing him the last time they had seen each other. The male would be hunting him down soon enough and then Asmodeus would command him to return to Heaven and succeed this time, or die trying.

He beat his wings and shot over the spires of black rock that curved around the semi-circular courtyard of the Devil’s obsidian fortress.

The tall twin black doors opened, revealing a crack of orange light and the silhouette of a figure that looked tiny in comparison.

Asmodeus lowered his feet and glided down to land on the black flagstones. He set down on his left foot and casually walked from there, furling his large wings against his bare back at the same time. The feathers grazed the gold-edged black strips of armour protecting his hips with each step and the longest ones curled forwards to caress his black knee-high leather boots and the metal plates that shielded his shins.

The Devil reached the top of the steps that led down from his fortress and straightened out the cuffs of his impeccable black suit jacket in a way that told Asmodeus he was on the verge of losing his cool.

The handsome black-haired male lifted his amber gaze and pinned Asmodeus with a glare that sent a shiver through him. A bolt of fire and lightning followed it, zinging through his blood and bones, a fierce reminder of the power this male wielded and a warning not to keep him waiting again.

The power flowing over him grew stronger and Asmodeus gritted his teeth as his knees trembled and fought to remain standing, refusing to succumb to the Devil’s will.

He would never go to his knees unwillingly.

Never.

Asmodeus clenched his fists, every muscle tensing against the strain of remaining upright. Sweat broke out across his brow. His limbs shook and his breathing quickened, but he kept his gaze locked on the Devil’s, holding it and showing him that he wouldn’t back down.

He would not submit.

A curvaceous naked female stepped out of the fortress, wavering as she walked slowly towards the Devil, a distant look in her dark eyes. She draped her hands over his shoulders and rubbed herself against his back, mewling softly at the same time.

The Devil huffed and the pressure bearing down on Asmodeus lifted.

“Go back inside,” the Devil muttered and touched the female’s hand. She obeyed, turning away from him and plodding back into the fortress.

The Devil had been busy recently.

His Hell’s angels had been bringing him female after female for him to seduce ever since his daughter, Erin, and the traitor Hell’s angel had escaped his grasp. The Devil had even taken to keeping some of the mortal women with him at the fortress, creating himself a harem.

Attempting to bring another child into this dark world.

A difficult task to accomplish when there were few females strong enough to bring his child to term.

Erin was a rare success in a sea of failures.

The Devil had only managed to produce one single offspring in thousands of years of trying.

Asmodeus didn’t think his current desperate tactic of sleeping with as many females as possible in an extremely short span of time would produce the result the male was looking for. Erin would birth her child soon and then she would be back to fight her father for his throne.

Asmodeus couldn’t wait.

Hell was about to get very interesting.

Until then, Asmodeus was content with amusing himself watching the Devil grow increasingly frustrated and desperate. Weak.

He had never seen the Devil this weak before, not in the thousands of years he had lived.

“What business do you have with me?” Asmodeus casually preened his feathers, preparing them for the flight home, and ignored the Devil’s scowl.

The male hated it when he spoke to him without an ounce of respect. Everyone else under his command simpered and scraped at his feet. As far as Asmodeus was concerned, the Devil had enough pathetic creatures kissing his expensive Italian leather shoes. Asmodeus wasn’t about to join them. He was above them.

The Devil’s right hand man.

A male created for destruction and bloodshed.

“You are to travel to the mortal realm and retrieve a female for me.”

Asmodeus’s black eyebrows pinched in a frown and it took him a moment to absorb exactly what the Devil had said and the connotations it contained.

One, he was ordering him to lower himself to the role of minion, retrieving him another female for his harem. Treating him like a servant. That irked him. He was not just another of the Devil’s servants.

Two, he was offering him a taste of the mortal world, granting him leave to step outside the environs of Hell for the first time in his existence. That intrigued Asmodeus. He had always wanted to see the mortal realm with his own eyes and experience it.

Asmodeus stared at him, weighing his options. Swallow his pride and finally fly in the world above, seeing the buildings and the colours, and all the things he had only ever seen in the pool on the plateau, or tell the Devil to stick it and spend the next week in the cells, probably tortured, possibly maimed permanently for his disobedience.

Asmodeus swallowed his pride and it tasted bitter. “Fine.”

The Devil grinned, revealing short fangs. “Good. You will find her in Paris, in the middle of the park near the base of the Eiffel Tower. She will be wearing crimson and black. Bring her to me.”

Asmodeus nodded, took a step backwards and then turned away from the Devil.

He threw his hand out in front of him and a black vortex appeared, swirling like smoke. It had been many centuries since he had bothered practicing glamours and veils, having given up on ever leaving Hell and having no need for changing his appearance in this realm. He hoped he hadn’t forgotten how to cast them.

Asmodeus focused on himself, casting a veil so none would see him when he stepped through the portal into the mortal realm.

“Bring her to me quickly, Asmodeus,” the Devil said behind him and Asmodeus nodded again.

Perhaps he would dally just a little. Who knew when the Devil would allow him to leave Hell again?

He stepped through the black portal and tensed as he appeared in the mortal realm. His eyes watered and he blinked against the assault of strong light, leaning back into the shade of the tower that speared the blue sky above him.

Blue.

Asmodeus tipped his head back and stared up at it, and then looked at his surroundings. Green trees. Dark metal. Pale stone. Mortals dressed in a multitude of colours. The warm air carried strange scents. Dust. Something sweet. Smoke. Sounds came from every direction. Blasts of noise and distant rumbles of what he suspected were vehicles. Constant chatter. Laughter. Squeals of happiness. All alien to him.

All choking and closing in on him.

He didn’t like it.

He took a step back towards the portal behind him and glared at everyone as they passed. Ants. Hundreds of them. Swarming. Shoving. Jostling each other. He wanted to kill them all. They were noisy. Brutal. Irritating.

Insignificant.

Powerless.

Asmodeus grinned, his golden eyes narrowing with it, and flexed his fingers. His fangs began to lengthen and his black claws followed them.

Prey for the hunter.

He would drown out the disgusting scents with the smell of blood. He would replace joy with fear, with screams and sobs and pointless pleas for mercy. He would bathe this colourful world in crimson.

Crimson.

A flash of that colour caught his eye and his gaze zeroed in on it. It was gone, lost in the sea of other hues. It flickered again, further off to his right, and his eyes shot to it. Wavy chestnut hair bounced against crimson ruffled material with each light step. He caught a sliver of black jeans. Crimson and black. The female the Devil wanted.

She turned and he glimpsed her face, and his desire to bathe his hands in the blood of these puny creatures slipped away, calm suffusing him, making him forget his irritation and dark desires.

She blinked, black lashes shuttering luminous hazel eyes, and turned away, continuing onwards towards a strip of green land to his right beyond the shadow of the tower.

Asmodeus felt a tug behind his breastbone, pulling him in her direction, but something told him it wasn’t the Devil commanding him to follow her. It was something else that made him want to track her through the crowd.

He focused and altered his appearance as he walked, hiding his pieces of gold-edged black armour with a black dress shirt, black jeans and leather boots, and shielding his wings. He lifted the veil that concealed him from mortal eyes and stalked the female as she moved through the thinning crowd, keeping his distance but remaining close enough that he wouldn’t lose her.

She stepped out into the bright sunlight on the vivid green grass and it cast golden highlights in her hair. Asmodeus’s heart missed a beat and then thumped hard against his ribs. His palms sweated.

Why?

He had hunted thousands before for the Devil. This female was no different. He would capture her and take her to him.

He wouldn’t.

Asmodeus shook his head and paused at the edge of the crowd, staring after her.

He wouldn’t?

He had pushed the Devil to the limit of his patience a thousand times but he had never disobeyed an order. He would not begin now.

He would take the female to his master.

The female in question turned on the grass and peered up the height of the tower, using a slender hand to shield her eyes, and Asmodeus’s heart missed another beat.

He slammed his hand against his bare chest and coughed. What was wrong with him?

Was the mortal world making him sick? He had never been sick before, but he had heard that demons could become ill. He wasn’t a demon though. He had never heard of an angel growing sick. Was it possible?

All the more reason to grab the female and return to Hell.

He took a step towards her, and then another one. She turned her back on him and he closed in until he was only a few metres away.

He just needed to grab her and then deliver her to the Devil. It wasn’t difficult, so why was he hesitating? He had never hesitated before. He had carried out his master’s orders without pause or regret, spilling blood and carving flesh, destroying lives. This was easy. Grab. Deliver. End of mission.

The Devil would have a new female for his growing harem. Asmodeus would return to his castle.

His stomach turned at the thought of that male laying his filthy claws on this delicate, dainty female.

He stared at the back of her head, replaying how she had looked when she had paused to glance up the height of the Eiffel Tower.

Wide hazel eyes.

Soft rosy lips.

Delicate perfect features and porcelain skin.

Chestnut hair cascading over her shapely shoulders.

Beautiful.

Pure.

Asmodeus wanted to close the gap between them, gently lay his hands on her shoulders, and slowly turn her to face him so he could drink his fill of her beauty and purity all over again.

Instead, he took a step backwards, distancing himself from her. Foreign feelings and thoughts collided in his mind, filling it and sending him in circles, tearing him between completing his mission and doing something that astounded him.

He could leave her here, in peace, and come up with an excuse. He couldn’t let his despicable master ruin her. He wouldn’t.

He turned away and held his hand out before him, focusing on the air there to call a portal back to Hell.

“Where do you go, Asmodeus?” The soft female voice caught him off guard.

His shoulders tensed and his outstretched hand shook.

She knew his name. She recognised him. And she spoke in English, even though they were in France.

English was not the native language of this land.

He had never left Hell before.

How did she know him?

He looked over his right shoulder and found her standing where he had left her, but facing him, her hands clasped in front of her, over the point where her crimson short-sleeved gypsy-style top met her black jeans.

A serene smile curved her rosy lips and it was then that he felt the incredible power in her.

He had never felt power like this in anyone other than the Devil.

She was strong, but it was not evil that flowed through her veins. It was something else. She was something else.

He had never spoken to a female like her before, and he wasn’t sure how to address her or whether he should even be concerned about such things. He swallowed the dry lump in his throat, steeled himself against his turbulent feelings, and told himself to get a grip. She was a target. He was here on a mission. He would not disobey his master. He would not allow this mere slip of a woman to affect him.

Asmodeus shifted to face her. “Who are you?”

“Liora,” she said with a breezy smile and bright eyes, and held her hand out to him. He stared at it but didn’t take it. She sighed and lowered it again. “You came for a reason… is it because of my cousin?”

He frowned. “Cousin?”

Perhaps he should have asked the Devil for more information about this mission before taking it. Why would he be here because of her cousin when he didn’t even know who she was?

She knew who he was. That still bothered him. He wanted to know how she knew of him and why she wasn’t running in fear.

The female called Liora nodded. “Serenity.”

His guard instantly rose and his senses stretched out to map the area in case this was a trap. He scowled at her and his right hand twitched at his side, ready to call his blade should he need it.

Had she been awaiting his arrival, willing to play bait so they could catch him? How had Apollyon known his master would let him fly free of Hell?

Asmodeus drew in a deep breath to calm himself and pushed all his questions away. Apollyon could not know he was here and this was not a trap. There was no need for him to be on edge. There had to be a reasonable explanation for everything.

He stared at the female. Liora.

Apollyon’s female, Serenity, was this beauty’s cousin. That only made him more intrigued about why the Devil wanted her.

Did he intend to use Liora against Apollyon? Apollyon was the Great Destroyer, one of the most powerful angels in existence and the one who was destined to fight the Devil and keep him contained within Hell and the bottomless pit.

Apollyon was also Asmodeus’s brother, or father of sorts. The first time the Devil had defeated Apollyon, he had tortured the male to the brink of insanity and had then drawn all that was evil out of him. The Devil had used that blood and a smattering of his own to create Asmodeus.

“You don’t look much like Apollyon. I’ve met him and now I’ve also met you… and you seem very different.” She eyed him, hazel gaze curious and intense as she cocked her head to one side. Her tone had a decidedly playful edge to it, soft and light, not exactly how he had expected a mortal to react to him. She was confident, calm, and a little bit teasing.

Asmodeus stared blankly at her. This was not normal female behaviour. He wasn’t sure whether she was flirting with him. He didn’t think it was a possibility, but she might be. He had no experience of such things.

His shock only increased when she raked her gaze over him, thoroughly inspecting him from head to toe, her stunning hazel eyes lingering on his bare torso. His palms sweated again and he swallowed hard as his pulse picked up.

Her right eyebrow quirked. “Why do you lack complete armour? Apollyon has all his armour. Why do you only have your hip pieces and armoured boots… are you incomplete?”

She could see his armour and his wings? His glamour wasn’t working. Had he done it wrong after all?

Asmodeus cursed and swiftly glanced around him at the other mortals.

None of the ones milling around the park were screaming or praying for salvation, so he must have done it right.

“Glamours don’t work on me,” she said, as if she had read his mind and knew his thoughts.

Was he that transparent? He didn’t like that she could see straight through him. He rose to his full height and glared down at her.

It didn’t fluster her in the slightest. She flicked her hand upwards with only her right index finger extended. It pointed at the sky. “Factoid. I’m a witch.”

Another first for him. He had never met a witch before.

Liora moved closer and looked him over again. “I’ve never seen cloning on this level. Normally something goes wrong. Did the Devil really create you from Apollyon’s blood?”

She paused for air, frowned and canted her head the other way, her gaze rising to lock with his.

“Are you as powerful as Apollyon… or less powerful?”

“More powerful,” Asmodeus barked and scowled at her. He was beginning to hate how she not only kept comparing him to Apollyon, but how she was making him feel inferior and broken, a mere shadow of a male.

False and unreal.

Not an individual.

He wanted to leave now.

He growled under his breath, his fangs itching to descend, and turned away from her, casting his hand out at the same time and calling a portal. The black swirling maelstrom formed before him. He’d had enough of this world. It did not live up to his expectations at all. It was noisy, bright, irritating and rude, and he didn’t like how uncertain and off-balance he felt. No one respected him here.

They could all go to Hell.

Asmodeus grinned. Perhaps he could make this place Hell and teach them all a lesson they would never forget, because it would be the last thing they knew before they died. His claws sharpened. That sounded good.

“Wait!” Liora grabbed his left arm and tugged it backwards, her warm hands clasping it tightly. “Don’t go… please… I didn’t mean to sound pushy or upset you.”

“I am not upset,” he said gruffly and yanked his arm free.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. A mistake. She was so close to him, and so beautiful as she looked up at him with a strange mixture of fear and hope in her entrancing eyes. He should leave. He would if he could bring himself to move. He felt as though she had cast a spell on him and he was powerless to resist her. His fury melted away again, leaving him calm and docile, confused as to why he had been angry to begin with. His claws shrank back and his fangs ascended.

She wanted him to wait, and so he waited.

“I’ve been rude,” she whispered and then tipped her chin up and a spark of confidence broke through the fear and hope in her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s a flaw. My mouth just starts running and I can’t stop it. I’ll tamp it down and think before I speak if you stay. It’s just excitement.”

“Excitement?” That had him turning to face her. What was she excited about?

His mind supplied that he was the reason for her excitement. A stupid idea. No one had ever been excited to meet him. Scared. Terrified. Having a near-death experience. Or possibly a pre-death experience since he was normally there to kill them. Not excited though.

He had caught the way she had glanced at his extended claws and the fear that had followed her seeing them. There was no possible way she could be excited by his presence.

Liora nodded again. “I was excited to meet you.”

That was a definite first, and it only made him feel more out of place and confused by this world and this slight willowy female before him. “Most people are afraid to meet me.”

She shrugged her slender shoulders. “I’m not most people. I’ve wanted to meet angels all of my life and I’ve studied them all I could, and then Serenity fell in love with Apollyon and I met one, but… and don’t tell her this… he seems very stuffy.”

Asmodeus smiled. He couldn’t help it. The sight of it seemed to bring out her smile too. It was dazzling this time, as if she had found someone she could swap notes about Apollyon’s faults with and was over the moon.

“So, when I heard about you, I really wanted to meet you… because I figured essentially you should be the opposite of Apollyon.”

Asmodeus cocked an eyebrow. “Evil?”

She had wanted to meet him?

She laughed, the sound sending a pleasant shiver through his body. “No. Fun.”

Fun? He really didn’t think she would see him as that if she knew the things he had done that he had considered fun. The thought of massacring these irritating mortals swarming around him was fun. Watching a demon’s head melt off in one of the lakes of lava while he held him fast, forcing him deeper into the fiery magma, was fun.

He had seen what mortals considered fun in the pool in Hell. Riding bicycles. Ponies. Playing various dull sports that didn’t involve severed demon heads and spears. The closest thing that mortals considered fun that he had also found interesting was hunting animals, and even that had seemed tame and dull once he had realised it involved distance weapons, not hand-to-hand combat with feral creatures capable of maiming or even killing the hunter.

Everything mortals did seemed sanitised and harmless, designed to thrill without any real risk to the participants.

No, he did not think Liora and he were on the same page, or even in the same book, when it came to what was fun.

“Will you stay a moment, Asmodeus?”

He huffed. “Why?”

“Because I would like to know more about you.”

He tipped his head back and frowned at the blue sky. Pale clouds spotted it now, adding interest. If he lingered, the Devil would want to know why. He would grow suspicious.

Asmodeus found he didn’t care. The Devil couldn’t leave Hell. He could only send his minions to find him, and they were no match for him. Besides, they were all busy clearing up the pests and bringing him other females. Perhaps those females would keep the Devil occupied while he entertained Liora long enough to understand why the Devil wanted her in particular.

“What would you like to know?” he said and slowly lowered his head, bringing his eyes down to meet hers.

She was far shorter than he was. As petite as her cousin, but as different as he was from Apollyon. He had seen Serenity in the pool, had watched her with Apollyon, trying to understand the complexities of relationships and what had attracted Apollyon to the female in the first place. Serenity was annoyingly good, sickly sweet, and came across as weak and in need of protection despite the immense power she could command if she put her mind to it.

Liora was nothing like her. In a handful of minutes, she had proven herself a little bit wicked, daring, confident, and a woman who knew she could handle herself. She didn’t need a male to protect her.

Strange how that made Asmodeus want to do just that.

Liora nibbled her lower lip and then cast another glance over him. Her pupils expanded to swallow some of the colour in her irises and her teeth sank deeper into her lip, tugging on it.

What did she think to make her appearance change so dramatically?

He was not used to mortal behaviour or reactions, other than overwhelming fear. Their pupils expanded then, but he knew without a doubt it was not fear that caused hers to dilate.

“Why are pieces of your armour missing?” Her gaze darted up to his and then away, and he had the sense that she feared offending him again.

He much preferred her choice of wording this time.

He looked himself over, able to see beyond his own glamour to the gold-edged worn strips of metal that covered his black loincloth and the black leather boots and greaves that protected his shins.

“I have lost pieces in the years of my life, during battles in Hell against angels and demons.” Asmodeus took hold of one of the pointed strips that covered his right hip and ran his thumb over the battered metal that had served him well in the many centuries of his existence. He would not deny that he missed his other pieces if she asked. He had often thought about finding a way to retrieve them and complete his armour. “There is no way for me to get those pieces back unless I fashion myself new armour… or the Devil sees fit to give me replacement pieces.”

“Or you steal Apollyon’s,” she said and his eyes snapped up to meet hers, shock rippling through him. He amended his observation. She was more than a little wicked. She was positively mischievous. A blush of crimson climbed her cheeks. “They would be a perfect fit.”

“True, but I do not think the male would allow me to simply take his armour. It would be a more interesting way to complete my armour though.” He liked how she thought and how easy it was becoming to talk to her. He had witnessed mortals talking like this. Banter. He was making banter with her and he was enjoying it.

He also liked the idea of taking Apollyon’s armour, leaving him appearing incomplete.

“You would have to fight him for it. Are you good at fighting?” She narrowed her gaze on his, as if trying to see the answer in it.

He nodded and held his hands out. His two golden curved swords materialised in his hands. Her eyes widened.

“You can do magic too!” She smiled and then did something he hadn’t anticipated and that stole his voice so he couldn’t tell her it wasn’t magic as she knew it.

She reached out with her left hand and idly ran two fingers down the length of his right blade, stroking the metal and following the blunt curve. Her smile turned wicked and his heart missed another beat, and part of his anatomy that had never known a female’s caress stirred beneath his armour.

Asmodeus cleared his throat, sent his swords away and took a step back from her. Her smile faded into a frown and he could see she thought she had done something wrong again.

He had the oddest urge to reassure her.

What was wrong with him?

Had she cast a spell on him?

The way he reacted to her fascinated and disturbed him at the same time. She had somehow calmed him twice now, erasing his dark hunger to maim and destroy, and had brought to the surface feelings and a part of himself that he had buried deep.

The longer he was in her presence, the more comfortable he felt around her, and the more he wanted to remain, but he also felt uncomfortable and wanted to leave too, and he knew why.

He had never felt his failings before meeting Liora, and the more time he spent with her, the more keenly he felt them. He was born evil, everything dark, cruel and deadly in Apollyon distilled into him. He had lived his life in Hell, doing as he pleased, trained by his master to embrace his darkest nature and inflict pain and terror upon others.

He had been happy with that life.

Asmodeus stared down into Liora’s stunning eyes, losing himself in them all over again, forgetting his mission and feeling that part of him he had kept hidden for millennia stirring again.

There was no room for good in Hell. Good was weakness. Concern and care were faults. Affection was a sin. All of them made him a weak male, one undeserving of respect and the position he held. He did not need them.

He clenched his fists and struggled against them, battling them until they were subdued and he could shove them back into the place where they would remain secret, hidden from everyone. Hidden from his master.

The Devil would think him a failure if he knew of them.

Liora frowned and moved a step closer to him, stealing his attention and bringing it back to her.

What would she think of him?

She already thought him incomplete and false. A clone. Nothing but a shadow of Apollyon.

He tried to take a step back to keep some distance between them but his feet refused to move. He stood towering over her, his fists trembling at his sides, his thoughts running at a million miles an hour, bombarding him and threatening to unleash his softer emotions again. What was she doing to him?

She lifted her right hand and his heart set off at a dizzying pace, slamming against his ribs, making his limbs shake. Weak. She made him weak. He cast a nervous glance at her hand as she raised it towards his face.

He had never known a female’s touch.

There had never been someone he desired.

“Asmodeus?” she whispered and stared up into his eyes. “What are you thinking in there? Your eyes are swirling like gold fire.”

A product of his emotions. They were slipping beyond his grasp and he had the strangest desire to embrace them and the sliver of good he held locked deep within.

Because of her.

What did the Devil want with her? He had a feeling it wasn’t to breed with her. She was Serenity’s cousin. A witch. She would produce powerful offspring and might be strong enough to bring a child to term, but she would also be likely to fight the Devil just as Erin had and refuse to surrender her babe.

Her soft hand cupped his cheek.

His eyes closed against his will and he inhaled sharply. Heat spread outwards from where they touched, surging through his body and setting his feelings free and his blood on fire.

Whatever the Devil’s plans for her, they would not come to pass.

Asmodeus would not let him have her.

Liora would belong to him.

Chapter 2

Liora stared deep into the incredible swirling gold depths of Asmodeus’s eyes. She had countless reasons not to trust him, but she couldn’t bring herself to listen to them or her head where he was concerned.

The moment she had set eyes on him, loitering under the Eiffel Tower, looking as though he was contemplating tearing through the crowd with claw and fang, a current had run through her, setting her heart racing. She could sense the darkness in him, the incredible evil that flowed in his veins, but in the background, she could feel a faint glimmer of good. That tiny sliver had given her the courage to speak with him.

She had wanted to know him.

Her picture of him had been as incomplete as his armour before today. She had found out about him when she had overheard her cousin talking with Apollyon and they had realised she had been hiding in the hallway of their apartment, listening in. She had pressed Apollyon to tell her about Asmodeus.

Apollyon had painted a bleak picture of his counterpart, telling her that Asmodeus was pure evil, without a shred of good in him. Had he lied to her and to Serenity?

Liora looked at Asmodeus again, recalling how Apollyon often referred to him as a creature, as if he didn’t deserve angelic, demonic or even human status.

As if he were an animal.

Something below their level.

There was darkness in him, she couldn’t deny that or the fact that the evil he harboured had come to the surface at times and the strength of it had shocked her enough to make her reconsider her desire to know more about him.

He wasn’t an animal though.

She couldn’t view him like that. He was as real as Apollyon and her too.

He was intelligent, powerful, and felt warm beneath her fingers. She had caught the flickers of true emotions in him. He had been shocked, dismayed and even offended by her questions and her observations so far. Her behaviour had intrigued, and possibly confused him.

He felt things.

He wasn’t as Apollyon painted him at all. Did Apollyon really know Asmodeus?

Had he never witnessed this side of his twin?

It was likely that Asmodeus had never had reason to reveal this side of himself to Apollyon. They had probably ended up locked in battle whenever they had come across each other.

He had revealed it to her though. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that she liked it. She liked being around him and seeing how she affected him. It fascinated her.

“Rose?” The heavily-accented male voice jolted her and her heart skipped a beat, shock running through her blood at the sudden intrusion into her quiet moment with Asmodeus.

A young man offered a bunch of plastic-wrapped single red roses to her and then to Asmodeus and she lifted her hand from Asmodeus’s face, meaning to refuse the street vendor.

“Rose?” The man smiled at Asmodeus and then held his free hand out in her direction.

All Hell broke loose.

Asmodeus growled, his top lip peeling back to reveal short fangs, and her stomach turned. The rise in the flow of power he constantly emitted was swift and startling, a crushing force that pressed down on her. His hand shot out and he grasped the vendor by his throat, yanking him away from her.

Liora’s eyes flew wide as Asmodeus’s golden irises brightened and then turned red. Not a normal colour and she wasn’t sure he could hide that change with a glamour.

The man choked and dropped his roses. He smashed his hands against Asmodeus’s bare arm and clawed at his fingers. Asmodeus grinned, his eyes narrowing darkly on the man, and began to squeeze. The man gasped, his eyes watered, and the veins in his temples popped to the surface as he turned red.

Liora pushed through shocked and straight into horrified. She leaped between them, shoving Asmodeus back and seizing his arm that held the man at the same time. Asmodeus snarled when she sent fire to her palm, singeing his flesh, and pinned her with a black, vicious glare as he released the man.

The man collapsed onto the grass.

“I’m so sorry.” Liora dropped to her knees and tried to check him over but he swatted at her, his fear and panic spiking.

He scrambled around, grabbing his roses, and she tried to lay her hand on him so she could heal his throat, but he shoved her in the chest and caught her off balance. Her backside hit the dirt and she could only stare as he broke into a dead run in the opposite direction to her and Asmodeus, heading for the towering trees that lined the edges of the park.

The oppressive wave of Asmodeus’s power only grew worse and wind gusted against her, the longest of his black feathers appearing in the edges of her vision as he beat his wings. Hell, no. She was not about to let him fly after the innocent street vendor and terrorise him. Not on her watch.

Liora shot to her feet, turning at the same time, and threw everything she had into her swing. Her palm connected hard with his left cheek, the slap ringing loudly across the area and drawing more attention to them than Asmodeus had when he had attacked that poor man for no good reason.

His head snapped to his right, his wild black hair falling down over his brow. The dark slashes of his eyebrows met in a scowl and his jaw tensed as he growled.

“You deserved that.” Liora drew in a deep breath to steady her racing heart and hoped she hadn’t just pushed this immense, extremely powerful male over the edge. The force of the power he emanated wasn’t growing weaker. If anything, it was getting stronger, and darker.

His red eyes slowly opened and locked on her, and he rose to his full height, towering a good eight inches taller than she was. He spread his black wings and bared his fangs at her, and it took every ounce of her will to stop her from backing off a step. She stood her ground, her knees trembling, and reconsidered her whole opinion of Asmodeus.

He was evil and dangerous, and as violent and cruel as Apollyon had said.

But there was still good in him.

The red in his eyes faded as he stared down at her, his bare chest heaving with each deep breath, and his expression slowly changed at the same time as the pressing force of his power lessened. Gold broke through crimson, his eyebrows relaxed, his jaw slackened and his breathing slowed to a steady tempo.

“Never strike me again, Female.” Those words were a vicious growl that told her he was serious and that there would be a dire consequence if she ignored his warning.

“Noted.” She brushed imaginary lint off her black jeans, unable to bring herself to look at him while he was staring at her as if he was still considering punishing her for raising a hand against him. “You were being an arse though. He only wanted to make a couple of euro selling you a rose for me.”

He huffed. “Noted… I am not accustomed to people selling me anything.”

Liora tried not to smile inside at that. “Where have you been all your life that no one has ever tried to sell you anything?”

“In Hell.” His deadpan tone made her lift her gaze from her jeans to his to see if he was serious.

He had never looked more serious.

“You’re telling me you’ve never left Hell?” Liora knew she sounded a little backward having to ask that but she wanted to be sure she wasn’t mistaken.

He nodded and preened his huge black wings. “I have never left Hell before now.”

Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “Am I the first mortal you’ve met?”

He shook his head and kept his eyes downcast, his long black lashes shuttering them so she couldn’t read them at all. She didn’t need to see them in order to know why he was only offering her a shake of his head as a reply, rather than an explanation.

He had lived in Hell for his whole life. Any mortals he had met must have been taken there for some terrible reason and Asmodeus had been the one to deal with them, or had at least watched someone else do the work.

Liora looked him over, trying to see him for all that he was and telling herself all the terrible things he had probably done in the years he had been alive, in Hell, working for his master.

Apollyon had told her that Asmodeus shared his blood, and that he himself had been created for destruction and violence. If Apollyon had been brought into this world in order to rain destruction down upon mortals, and everyone could view him as good and kind, then she had to at least try to give Asmodeus the chance his twin had been offered.

She had to discover whether there was good in him or whether she had been imagining it.

“Would you have killed the street vendor if I hadn’t stopped you?” She managed to keep the tremble out of her voice as she asked, afraid of what his response would be because part of her already knew the answer to that question.

Asmodeus drew in a deep breath, his broad bare chest expanding with it, tipped his chin up and stared down at her, no trace of guilt in his eyes. “Yes.”

“Why?” She swallowed to wet her dry throat and shift the lump from it.

He had to have a reason. He wasn’t a mindless killing machine for the Devil, not like Apollyon said he was. She had seen his keen intelligence and his feelings playing out in his eyes. There was good in him. There was reasoning and calculation behind his every action. He had a reason for attacking the man. He had to have one.

Asmodeus lifted his hand between them, flexed his fingers and then lowered it back to his side. He stared off to his right, into the distance beyond her, and was quiet for so long that she feared he would never answer and she would never know the truth of him.

She wanted to see beyond the name and the stories, and the things she had been told, to the real Asmodeus. The one she had glimpsed earlier before he had locked it down and brought his guard back up.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head a fraction. “I thought he meant to harm you.”

Her hazel eyes widened.

Asmodeus frowned and clenched his fists at his sides. “I felt you tense and heard your heart jump, and your power flared. You were scared. I only meant to remove the source of your fear.”

He had been protecting her.

Liora glanced skywards to give herself a moment to absorb the revelation. This powerful male that everyone told her was cruel and evil, and had no good in him, had wanted to protect her. It was all the proof she needed that there was a sliver of good in him and it reinforced her desire to know more about him.

The sun was setting though and that meant more rose sellers and people around the Eiffel Tower to see it as it lit up. If she wanted to continue her time with Asmodeus, she would need to take him somewhere it would get quieter, not busier.

She dropped her gaze to his. “Will you fly me somewhere?”

He looked beautifully startled, his eyes going round and falling to her body. A touch of colour crept onto his cheeks and his pupils expanded, gobbling up the gold in his irises. Was he thinking about carrying her when he looked so flushed with desire?

A warm shiver raced through her blood and she swept her tongue across her lips, not even bothering to deny that she felt that same burst of desire whenever she raked her gaze over him, even when she knew she shouldn’t.

He nodded. “Where?”

Liora turned and pointed towards the basilica of Sacré-Coeur where it stood on the hill in the distance, the three white domes of the grand church illuminated by golden light. “There. It will get quieter there as night falls.”

His throat worked on a hard swallow and he opened his thickly muscled arms to her. “I will fly you there.”

Liora slipped the strap of her small black bag over her shoulder so it fell across her front and took a deep breath as she stepped into his arms. Serenity was going to kill her for this but she didn’t care. Something about Asmodeus had her going against convention and everything she knew she should do. She felt a connection between them, a link she had never experienced with another, and she felt as if she could be wild and free around him and he would never judge her or tell her what to do.

He would let her be herself.

He would be right there with her.

He dipped his body, slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, and effortlessly lifted her into his arms. She settled her right palm against his chest and stared into his eyes. They were even more beautiful up close.

Flecks of black and rich amber swirled amongst liquid gold. His heart thundered against her palm and his breathing quickened as she continued to look deep into his eyes.

Awareness grew within her, stealing her focus away from the world until it was all settled on him. She could feel his large hands pressed into her ribs and clutching her knee. She could feel his powerful body pressing against her side, shifting with each heavy breath. Each of those breaths washed over her, moist and sweet, bringing her heart to a gallop.

His power flowed around her, a protective shield that allowed hers to recede for the first time in what felt like forever.

She had never felt so safe, not since her parents had died.

Asmodeus would protect her.

Her gaze drifted down the straight slope of his nose to the firm line of his lips, and they parted to reveal blunt white teeth.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his deep husky voice sending a shiver of heat across her skin, and she couldn’t resist snaking her hands around his strong neck and teasing the ends of his short black hair. He gritted his teeth, his jaw tensing, and a quiet growl escaped him.

His fingers flexed against her, drawing her closer, and she felt wicked because she liked how he clutched her as if he was never going to let her go.

She was playing with fire.

The Hell kind.

The problem was, she didn’t care if she got burned.

Asmodeus spread his glossy black wings, bent at the knee and pushed off. She clung to him for a whole different reason as each powerful beat of his wings carried them higher into the warm evening air. She hadn’t exactly thought about what she was asking.

Flying had sounded charming and fascinating. Now it was beginning to look frightening.

It was already a long drop to a very painful death.

“You will not fall, Liora,” Asmodeus whispered against her ear and she melted in his arms.

Someone so evil shouldn’t have a voice that could do wicked things to a woman like his did.

Or perhaps it was perfect for him, made for seducing and getting his way.

Was he a seducer?

She drew back to look at him and his grip on her tightened, his scowl re-emerging at the same time. His golden gaze shifted to her and then back to the distance. She studied his face as he flew, trying to figure him out by replaying everything that had happened. He had never left Hell but he had met mortals, and there were plenty of demons who looked human. She didn’t think there was a Mrs Asmodeus waiting for him back in Hell though.

She had made him blush by touching his cheek, had sparked desire by touching his sword, and had caught the passion that flared in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

He didn’t have a steady relationship but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a seducer. He could be playing her right now, performing perfectly to lure her in with practiced reactions designed to get him what he wanted from a woman.

“Why do you stare at me?” Asmodeus said and she tapped into her power, channelling it into him in the hope of discovering whether his awkwardness was real or an act.

She could sense no falseness in him. Her staring genuinely confused him.

“I’m trying to figure you out.” There was no point in hiding her intentions. The more honest she was with him, the more liable he was to be honest with her.

“And?” A playful edge entered his eyes and she wasn’t surprised to find the corners of his lips curling into a wicked smile.

“I’m getting nowhere.” She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her gaze on him. “Are you evil?”

“Yes.”

A very blunt and honest answer. “Evil because everyone expects you to be evil… or because you really are that way?”

He frowned at her and then switched his focus back to the skies ahead of him. “I was born evil.”

“I know the story,” she said and he flicked another glance at her, a touch of surprise in his eyes now. “You’re everything evil in Apollyon… blah, blah, blah… but I’m not convinced that you’re only evil.”

His golden eyes darkened and crimson edged them. She was pushing his buttons again. He didn’t like her mentioning Apollyon or comparing them in any way. She could understand why. She hated it whenever her coven mentioned how she should strive to be more like Serenity—all good and graceful. Serenity had never lived through hell as she had. Serenity had no reason to have darkness and hatred inside her.

Liora looked down as he glided around the top of the beautiful white domes of the church of Sacré-Coeur with her and then brought them down in the square below. She expected at least a bump as they landed, but it was smoother than any touch down she had ever experienced.

He carried her to the iron fence edging the square and stared out over the city. Dusk turned the elegant stone buildings and the ribbon of the river pink and gold, making them more beautiful than ever.

Asmodeus gently set her down.

“You’ve really never left Hell?” she said while watching him absorb the view of the city with wide eyes.

He looked like a man who had never witnessed such a view. She had asked Apollyon about Hell. His answer had been that it was black and grim, and that the only colours in the bleak landscape were the boiling rivers of lava.

“Never.” Asmodeus narrowed his golden gaze and shifted it down to her. “Have you ever left the mortal realm?”

She shook her head, the loose tangled waves of her chestnut hair brushing her shoulders. “Never… what’s it like where you live?”

“I have a castle I built.”

“A home.” She looked out over the city, enjoying the view even though she had come here often during the first two weeks into her stay with Serenity and Apollyon. It was nice to escape them sometimes, finding her own space so she could think and be herself.

“I do not think of it as a home.”

Liora frowned and looked across at him. He stood with his profile to her, his eyes drifting over the city, the sinking sun bringing out their colour but not warming them. They were cold and empty again. Where had his thoughts taken him?

The more she looked at him and thought about what he had said, the more she felt he was lonely but didn’t realise it. He had never left Hell and he refused to view his castle as his home.

Did he have no love and light in his life?

“So what are your friends like? Are they all bad-ass demons or are you mates with the Devil?”

Asmodeus’s gaze locked on a distant point and then flicked straight to her. “I have none.”

He had no friends.

He had no home.

What sort of lonely life was he leading in Hell? She was beginning to wonder how there was even a sliver of good in him. He had no reason to feel that or any positive emotions at all.

Liora placed her hand over his on the black metal railing and he looked down at them, his eyes slowly widening in that way that made her feel that there was something about Asmodeus that would surprise everyone who saw him if they knew about it.

He had always been alone.

No one had ever shown him compassion or care.

No one had ever touched him like this, as a friend would, offering comfort and support.

He was a clone of Apollyon, everything evil distilled into its purest and most vicious form, but he was a product of his environment too.

He had been starved of good and driven to do bad. He had never been given a chance to be anything else. The Devil had moulded him into this man before her and for some reason she wanted to be the one to show the world that they were wrong about Asmodeus, and he could be something more than they believed him to be.

“Do you have no companions at all?” She looked up into his eyes, her eyebrows furrowed and a tiny flicker of hope in her heart.

He lifted his gaze to lock with hers and his thumb brushed hers, causing her heart to leap and race.

He swallowed hard and hesitated, and she thought he wouldn’t answer as he averted his gaze, fixing it far below them at the base of the hill and the street there. His eyes tracked something, turning distant at the same time. She looked down and frowned when she saw an old woman walking two miniature poodles.

“I have Romulus and Remus,” he said in a gruff voice and she raised her eyes back to his. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “They are not quite like those canines. Hellhounds are larger, and live far longer.”

He had dogs. Companions. Hellhounds were an evil angel’s best friends.

“What are they like?” She couldn’t picture hellhounds at all. Images of Cerberus, the three-headed hound sprang into her mind. “Do they only have one head?”

He smiled and her heart lifted at the sight of it and the way the cold edge left his golden eyes. “Yes, they only have one head. They are black and very large, coming to stand with their shoulders around here.”

He held his hand palm down just above his hip and Liora’s gaze disobeyed her direct command and drifted across to the taut ripped muscles of his stomach and the sexy dip of his navel, and the dusting of dark hair that led her eyes downwards. Her pulse picked up again and it took all of her will to drag her gaze back to his hand.

It was trembling.

Her eyes shot up to his and he looked away again, but she caught the flicker of desire that still darkened his gaze.

“What do they look like? Are they hairy?” Curse her voice for shaking. She had been around men she felt attracted to before and had never reacted like this whenever they had flirted with her or shown their interest. She sidled closer to Asmodeus and butted her hand up against his to measure their height against her own body.

According to his measurements, these hellhounds would reach shoulder height on her if she included a modest addition for their heads.

“Hell is hot and rather filled with fire. Hair is not a good thing in that sort of environment. They are shorthaired and somewhat resemble a canine of this world… a Great Dane. Do you know of it?”

“Scooby Doo? You have demonic Scooby Doos?”

“Scooby Doo?” He frowned. “I am not familiar with this Scooby Doo.”

“He’s a cartoon… like moving drawings with sound.” She wasn’t sure he knew what a cartoon was. She doubted you could pick up satellite or cable in Hell. “But he’s brown. The right breed though…”

She measured Asmodeus’s guide height against her again.

“I’m guessing yours are bigger than our version.” She waved her hand around the height she imagined them to be.

“And broader… and they have red eyes.”

“I could have guessed.” She really could have. It didn’t surprise her at all. Even Asmodeus had red eyes whenever he was losing his temper.

When coupled with the way she could feel his power rising or ebbing with his emotions, she had a barometer for Asmodeus.

At least she could tell when he was about to unleash Hell on the poor unsuspecting population of Paris. 

“And I can talk to them.”

That, she hadn’t guessed possible. “They talk?”

Asmodeus casually shrugged, causing his black wings to shift against his bare back. “They communicate with each other in their own language using telepathy, but I do not have that ability so I have taught them to understand me and I can understand their responses. They are clever creatures and picked up an understanding of the demonic language quickly.”

So he could communicate with his two hellhounds. Romulus and Remus. Who no doubt lived at the castle that wasn’t a home.

Something came back to her, something she had heard Apollyon say to Serenity when she had been listening in on them and Serenity had asked why Asmodeus had given him information he could use against the Devil.

Asmodeus was complicated.

Liora stared at him.

Complicated and gorgeous, and she wanted to unravel the mystery that he wore like a protective cloak.

She wouldn’t stop until she knew the truth of Asmodeus.

Until she knew the real him.

The one he was fighting to hide from her.

Chapter 3

Asmodeus was on edge. He stared out over the darkening city of Paris, his senses stretching around him, mapping everything that moved and was therefore potentially a threat to the female beside him.

He didn’t like the mortal world.

Already one male had attempted to harm her and others in this area kept glancing her way, and he did not trust any of them.

In Hell, no one would have dared try to harm her while she was with him. He had half a mind to cast a portal and take her down to his castle and keep her there, only the other half of his mind wasn’t sure why he felt such a fierce need to protect her.

She was a witch and could most likely take care of herself, without his assistance.

Asmodeus idly rubbed his left cheek. Her strike had caught him off guard and had stung for long seconds afterwards, while she had thrown verbal barbs at him that had confirmed he had done something wrong.

His gaze lost focus as he replayed what had happened, trying to understand what he had done wrong and why she had been angry with him.

He turned his back on the city and watched the mortals milling around the square instead, snapping photographs of the white domed church on the mount above him or pictures of the city at sunset behind him. They interacted with each other, using a series of facial expressions and touches, neither of which he truly understood or could decipher.

Even here, the mortal world was a bombardment of scents, sights, tastes and sounds, and feelings.

He had never felt so out of place and unnerved, and unsure of himself.

He didn’t know how to function in this world and found it impossible to behave as expected of a mortal because he wasn’t one. He didn’t understand how they worked.

He didn’t understand how Liora worked.

Men glanced her way as they passed, disgusting eyes lingering on her shapely form without her knowing, possessing curves that were not theirs to study.

He scowled at them all, feeling a growing urge to lift his glamour and reveal his true appearance to them in order to scare them away. The only reason he wasn’t surrendering to that wicked desire was because he had already frightened Liora with his violent behaviour near the tower.

He had only been trying to protect her.

Asmodeus rested his elbows on the black railing behind him, tilted his head right back and stared at the colourful cloud-strewn sky, trying to figure out why he had received a hard slap as payment for protecting her from the male.

He wanted to understand this world and the protocols, and somehow find a way to learn the right reactions to situations.

He didn’t want to scare her away.

His senses shifted entirely to her, locked and focused, feeling her close beside him, her power wrapping around him like warm arms. She had felt soft and light when he had carried her, warm against his flesh. She had stared at him until he had been intensely aware of her gaze on his face.

On his lips.

He had wanted to kiss her.

He still wanted to even though she was full of light and purity, and she was so warm and friendly, filled with beautiful concern about everyone. Even strangers.

Even him.

He had never witnessed such good in anyone before.

It left him feeling there really was no good in him and made him wish more than ever that there were.

He had told her that he was evil and she had seen the darkness in him, the violence he was quick to embrace and the cruelty, but she had remained with him, asking him to take her somewhere else, somewhere quieter.

He had expected her to leave and she had wanted him to stay.

He didn’t understand her at all.

Asmodeus raised his left hand above him, stretched his fingers out with his palm facing the sky, and stared at it.

He had told her that he had no friends and she had held this hand, squeezing it against the railing and showing him compassion. Why?

There was no room for friendship in his life. It was a weakness. Good was a weakness. Affection was a sin. Compassion and care were flaws.

So why did he want to feel these things?

He didn’t. He clenched his teeth and his fingernails transformed into sharp black claws and his fangs lengthened. He had no weakness. No soft emotions to leave him open to attack. No vulnerabilities.

He felt Liora’s gaze on him and ignored her, struggling with his feelings and trying to subdue them again. He was wasting time here. He should take her down to the Devil and be done with it. All he was doing was worsening the punishment his master would deal when he returned with her, and he would return with her. The Devil would see to that.

He was weak.

Vulnerable.

Unable to fight his master’s orders.

The Devil had absolute power over him and eventually he would tire of waiting and command him to return, and Asmodeus would not be strong enough to fight that order.

“How long have you had Romulus and Remus?” Liora’s tone was soft and soothing, calming the growing tempest within him until it subsided and he forgot his fear and lowered his gaze to her.

New fear grew in its place.

He had never talked about himself to anyone before. No one had ever wanted to know about him, but she was genuinely interested and for some reason he was finding it hard to deny her. It was strange to talk to her about his life. Strange and dangerous.

It left him feeling uncertain and more on edge than the males who loitered in the square and were potentially a threat to her.

If she knew the things he had done and the person he was, she wouldn’t want to know about him anymore.

“Several centuries.” He kept his response short and before she could ask another question, he changed tactics on her. “Have you been a witch all your life?”

This was new to him too. He had never wanted to know about anyone before, but he wanted to know all about her.

She nodded, her chestnut waves bouncing against her shoulders. “Ever since I was born. I’ve lived with a coven the whole time.”

The area began to empty, the single males dwindling in number and the couples moving away into darker corners. Asmodeus tried not to look at them as they embraced or kissed.

Liora ran her fingers along the metal railing and her arm brushed his, sending a thousand volts jolting up it and through his body. His gaze whipped around to her and found her looking out at the city, not at him. He could have sworn she had been watching him a second ago.

“Are you as powerful as Serenity… or less powerful?” He couldn’t resist turning her earlier question against her, or staring at her. The streetlights illuminated her face, softening her features further. Her beauty entranced him.

She smiled, rosy lips curling slowly into it, and a light entered her eyes, a twinkle that he knew he had put there. He had never made anyone smile like that before and he found he liked it and wanted to make it happen again. He just wasn’t sure how. He had zero experience of being amusing or entertaining, unless you were the Devil. He could entertain his master no end by torturing demons for his viewing pleasure.

Asmodeus didn’t think that would entertain or amuse Liora.

“More powerful,” she echoed his earlier words and he found himself smiling at her.

Liora turned to face him, her left arm remaining leaning against the black railing, and held her right hand out in front of her.

She snapped her fingers and a glowing black rose made of light appeared in her hand.

She held it out to him and when he went to take it, she evaded his hand and brushed the soft warm petals over his bare chest. His heart thudded hard and the smile that had been working its way onto his lips dropped away. The air around him sizzled and the awareness of Liora he felt at times came back full force, flowing through him like electricity, coursing through his blood and making him hot all over.

Liora looked up at him, the action of tilting her head back causing her lips to part invitingly.

Asmodeus swallowed and fought the dark instinct to claim those lips and devour them.

Unless she wanted him to kiss her.

Was that possible? He had studied the couples in the area, and how they courted with smiles and laughter, and light touches that seem designed to arouse and excite the interest of their partner.

He wanted to kiss her.

No good would come of it though. It would only increase his desire to keep her from the Devil and fight his master’s orders, and it would only cut him when he failed and delivered her to that wretched male.

The black rose disappeared and her hand settled against his bare chest. It was shaking. She was nervous too, afraid of whatever this was that zinged between them whenever they were close.

Asmodeus raised his hand to cover hers and froze when a shiver bolted down his spine, hot and fierce, and the ground trembled.

“Conceal yourself,” he barked and she stared blankly at him. He cursed and cast a veil over her, and pushed her behind him at the same time, shielding her with his body and his black wings in case his spell failed.

A bright orange spot formed on the pale stone slabs before him and then forked outwards into a glowing fault line. The ground trembled again and the fiery line cracked open, becoming a fissure. Steam and smoke rose from it and the mortals in the area screamed and ran.

Liora shook beneath his hand that clutched her wrist but he could feel her power rising, growing in the face of her fear.

A Hell’s angel burst from the earth and beat his crimson wings. He drifted down to stand a few metres from Asmodeus and furled his feathered wings against his back. Whenever they travelled to the mortal realm, Hell’s angels preferred to use an angelic appearance, looking human for the most part. The dark-haired male’s red-edged obsidian armour gleamed in the light from the fiery streak at his feet.

Asmodeus had never liked the colour of their armour pieces. It was the only reason he hadn’t defeated one and stolen the breastplate and black plate that covered their upper torso or the vambraces that shielded them from wrist to elbow.

“Report,” the male said, voice gravelly and thick as the smoke billowing behind him.

Asmodeus straightened to his full height, his anger spiking over being spoken to without a shred of respect. He bared his fangs at the fallen angel and unleashed a fraction of his power, enough that the male would feel it bearing down on him but not so much that he would harm Liora.

“I meant to say… our master would like a progress report, King of Demons.” The fallen angel pressed his left hand to his black breastplate and lowered his head.

“Tell him that I have not yet located the female.”

The male lifted his gaze to him and a wary edge entered it. Asmodeus prepared himself, sensing the male was about to make a grave mistake and insist that he had found the female and demand he take her to the Devil.

The Hell’s angel slowly lowered his left hand to his side and a short black rod tipped with two curved red blades the length of his forearm appeared in his grasp.

A declaration of war.

The fallen angel’s eyes flashed red and the skin around them turned black.

He meant to take Liora to the Devil.

Asmodeus would not allow this male or any other to lay a single claw on her.

Asmodeus’s claws and fangs extended, his eyes blazed crimson and he snarled as he called his golden blade to his right hand. He released Liora, gave a powerful beat of his wings that tore a shriek from her, and shot towards the male. The man didn’t have a chance to block him.

He swung in an upwards diagonal arc with his curved sword and sliced straight through the male’s sword arm. It dropped and before it could hit the pavement, Asmodeus had spun around behind the male and decapitated him.

He came to a halt with his blade extended out at his side, blood rolling down its length and dripping to the ground, and breathed hard.

What had he done?

Bright light burst from the sky, the golden shaft encasing the dead angel. The body disappeared and the light faded, and Asmodeus continued to stare at the pool of blood that remained.

Something moved on his senses. He jerked his head up and had his sword at the ready before he had realised it was Liora. He lowered his weapon and sent it away, still reeling from what had happened.

Liora moved another step forwards and he moved his gaze from the blood to her. Shock filled every beautiful line of her face and it echoed within him.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered and stared down at the blood on the ground between them. “Was the female you mentioned me… are you supposed to take me to the Devil?”

Asmodeus’s shoulders slumped. There was no going back now. There was only going forwards. He had killed one of the Devil’s men and sent him back to Heaven. The Devil wasn’t a fool. He would know that it had been his doing and that it had not been the act of an angel of Heaven who happened to be in the city. There was no way of concealing what he had done.

He stared at Liora. It would be so easy to lie to her and say he had meant another female, and it was what he would have done with anyone else, but he couldn’t bring himself to say false words to her.

Even if the truth would drive her away.

Perhaps it was better that way.

She was safer away from him.

“The Devil sent me to the mortal realm to capture you and bring you back to him.”

Her eyes slowly widened with each word he spoke and her anger rose at the same pace, together with another emotion he found he didn’t like feeling in her.

Hurt.

“You were allowed to come to this world for the first time… because he wanted you to take me to Hell?” Liora’s hazel eyes narrowed on him and her power increased in strength, until it flowed around him, buffeting him like a strong wind, jabbing at him and shocking him. The ground beneath him shook but it wasn’t the impending arrival of a Hell’s angel this time. It was Liora.

The trees swayed, leaves breaking free of their branches to swirl around him.

The sky darkened, black clouds blotting out the early stars.

The streetlamps lining the square flickered and buzzed.

“You meant to take me to your master?” she hissed and her eyes darkened. Red ribbons curled around her fingers and up her arms, twining with black and purple. Lightning forked across the sky and slammed into the ground in the distance. He decided he was glad he had never met a witch before meeting her. He hadn’t anticipated the level of her power would be this strong and it was still growing stronger, and he had a feeling she was intending to use every ounce of it on him. She breathed hard, each one laboured, and struggled to speak. “This was all a sick game to you… lies and deception… a cruel and vicious… twisted game. You bastard… I thought… I wanted to see the real you and I guess I just did.”

She raised her hands to attack.

Asmodeus raised his in an act of surrender. “Liora… I have no intention of doing as the Devil bids. I swear it. I have not deceived you. These hours with you have not been a game. I do not want to let the Devil have you.”

He knew she had no reason to trust him or believe a word he had said, but a quiet, hidden part of him hoped that she would listen and wouldn’t hit him with everything she had. He wasn’t sure he could survive such a blow and he didn’t want the first female he had ever desired to kill him when he had done nothing wrong and had not yet tasted her lips.

Her magic faltered and her frown lessened. “Why not?”

Asmodeus laid it all on the line without hesitation, knowing it was the only way to halt her attack and convince her that he only wanted to protect her from the Devil, even though he was far from a white knight. He would be that for her if he could though. He would somehow find a way to show her that while he was born of darkness and evil, he was deserving of her light and good. Somehow.

He held his right hand out to her and focused hard on it, materialising something he had never created with his power before and never thought he would create either.

A black rose that he offered to Liora.

“Because I want you for myself.”

Chapter 4

Liora reacted to Asmodeus in the same way she reacted to everything. She embraced her impulses and was in his arms before she could reconsider what she was doing or even contemplate how far south of crazy she was about to go. She tiptoed, slid her right hand around the back of his neck and dragged his mouth down to hers. The moment her lips meshed with his, he froze, going stock-still and as stiff as a board.

Either he didn’t want her quite as much as he had just said or the impossible was possible after all and he had never done this before.

“Relax,” she murmured against his lips and was pleasantly surprised when he obeyed her and the rigidness left his shoulders and his neck, and his mouth fused with hers.

She moved her lips across his, gently grazing them and easing him into it, and he began to mimic her. She liked the firmness of his lips and how his hands settled possessively on her hips, drawing her front against the full delicious length of his. She tilted her head back further, not wanting to break the kiss for any reason.

Asmodeus dug the points of his fingers into her back and pulled her closer still, a low growl rumbling in his throat, thrilling her. The strips of armour protecting his hips pressed into her stomach and each ragged breath he drew caused his chest and stomach to heave against hers. She slanted her head and opened her mouth, and flicked her tongue across his lower lip. That earned her another low, huskier growl and he angled his head, fiercely claimed her mouth and ripped a moan from her. The man was a natural.

Liora’s hands slipped to his shoulders and she lost herself in the kiss. It was gentle and soft, and everything she hadn’t expected. It overwhelmed her and she couldn’t help melting into it, letting him take the lead because she liked how this powerful, sexy male kissed her with tender reverence, as if he was afraid of hurting her.

As if he was worshipping her.

She didn’t feel as though she was kissing an evil angel, but Serenity would be the first to remind her of what he was if she ever found out about this, and Apollyon would likely have some harsh words to say about her choice of male.

She couldn’t help herself though.

She couldn’t help her feelings.

She had felt attracted to Asmodeus from the moment she had noticed him back at the Eiffel Tower and had been struggling to resist the urge to kiss his wicked lips ever since.

He was dark, but handsome.

Evil, yet sweet.

Protective.

Passionate too.

She could feel it in him, bubbling beneath the surface, held back by his inexperience.

He was exactly the sort of man she had always felt drawn to but had never been with before.

He tightened his grip on her hips and deepened the kiss, his tongue thrusting past her lips to tangle with hers. His moan was wanton and erotic, full of undiluted hunger and pleasure that echoed within her. She tackled his tongue with her own, taking the lead, pulling another groan from him and joining him this time.

When breathing became a serious issue, she reluctantly pulled back, breaking apart from him. He breathed hard, his swirling golden eyes bright in the darkness and locked on her lips. That hungry look thrilled her. He wanted more and she wanted to give it to him, but they really needed to pace themselves, and perhaps get away from an area that now looked like a murder scene.

She guessed it was in reality.

Asmodeus had killed one of his master’s men because that fallen angel had wanted to take her from him.

She broke her own rules and kissed him again, silently thanking him and fearing he would get into trouble with the Devil now because of what he had done. Would the Devil send more men to claim her? Why did he want her?

Was the Devil the presence she had felt watching her at times during these past few weeks?

It couldn’t have been Asmodeus. When he had been watching her at the Eiffel Tower, she had sensed his eyes on her but it had felt different. Not a dark threatening feeling like the other times.

She had to speak with Serenity and Apollyon. They might be able to help her figure out why the Devil wanted her and would be able to protect her. She would pay a high price for asking them for assistance though.

Asmodeus had made his dislike of Apollyon clear during the short hours they had known each other. Apollyon hated Asmodeus too. Putting them together in the same room would be asking for trouble.

She drew back to ask him to come with her to Serenity and Apollyon’s home but the words fled her lips when she looked at him. If she asked him such a thing, he would leave her. He would return to Hell. She would lose him, and probably one of her best shots at remaining out of the Devil’s hands. Apollyon could protect her, but she had felt the power in Asmodeus and had seen him deal with that fallen angel, effortlessly killing him. He was stronger than Apollyon, whether Apollyon wanted to admit it or not.

He was her best shot at surviving whatever was coming.

That and she didn’t particularly want to let him go now that they had rocketed past that awkward ‘I want to kiss you but I don’t know how to approach it’ phase.

“Come, we must move.” Asmodeus scooped her up into his arms and beat his wings before she could even form a response, taking off into the crisp night air.

It was getting chilly.

Liora used it as an excuse to cuddle up to his bare chest and was thankful he only had partial armour. It was much nicer curling up against hard hot flesh than it would have been rubbing against cold metal plates.

“You’re going to be in trouble, aren’t you?” she said and the breeze carried her voice over his shoulder.

He beat his shadowy black wings and took them higher, until they were gliding above the city and she couldn’t take her eyes off how beautiful it was. All the lights twinkled in the darkness and cars streamed down streets forming bright slashes of red and white. Boats caused the wide river to glow in places. The Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance.

“Perhaps,” he whispered and she felt his gaze shift to her, boring into the side of her face. “But I have a feeling that you may be worth it.”

She smiled at that. How could anyone think this man pure evil? She had only had to speak to him to know that while he held darkness inside him, and was capable of great cruelty and violence, there was still some good in him, hidden away beneath the vicious exterior he wore like a shield.

She turned her head to look at him but he moved his gaze away from her, looking down at the city as they flew over it instead. She drank him in, studying the nuances of his expression as his golden gaze flitted around, taking in the scene stretching below them. The wind ruffled his wild black hair and she ached to brush her fingers through it, combing it back and feeling its silkiness just as nature was allowed to do.

“Will the Devil send more men for me?” She feared the answer to that question even though she already knew it deep in her heart.

The black slashes of his eyebrows met in a frown and his golden eyes darted to her. “Yes.”

“Will you fight them?” Her voice trembled and she hoped he would think it was the wind that caused it, not the fear growing in her heart. She had never been this afraid before, had always faced things head-on and without flinching, even as a child. The thought that the Devil wanted her for some nefarious reason and had sent his best man to retrieve her, marking her as important to him, made cold steal into her veins and sent a shiver through her soul.

Asmodeus hesitated and something surfaced in his eyes, something that set her on edge. He looked uncertain.

Over a year ago, Serenity had called and told her that they had to cancel their get together because something had happened to Apollyon. Heaven had exercised its will on him and had controlled him, forcing him to do their bidding against his will, and it had shaken the powerful male.

If Heaven held that power over Apollyon, did that mean Hell and the Devil wielded it over Asmodeus?

“I will try.” He looked away again, the sombre note to his deep voice and the fraction of his emotions that she could sense with her power conveying that he meant it but he didn’t believe he would be able to defeat whatever force the Devil sent after him.

All the more reason to ask Apollyon and Serenity for help, but she still couldn’t bring herself to raise it with him, not while everything felt so tentative and liable to fall apart if she mentioned the other angel.

“Perhaps you would be safer away from me.”

Liora stared at him, shock rippling through her. “No. I’m safer with you.”

“Do not fool yourself, Liora. I feel your fear. I thrive on that emotion. It gives me pleasure as much as anger and rage, and pain.” His voice gained a dark edge that echoed within his power and she frowned when she realised what he was doing. He was driving a wedge between them. He meant to make her leave. “You are safer away from me.”

“I am safer with you. If anyone has the power to protect me, it’s you, Asmodeus.”

“Or Apollyon. He would be the better choice. He is always the better choice.” The darkness in his voice turned to bitterness that she could feel lacing his power and she held on to him.

“How do you know he’s the better choice for me? Isn’t it my choice?” She glared at him now and then it faded away when she caught the tiny almost imperceptible grain of fear hidden beneath his other emotions.

Fear that he would fail her?

Or fear that he would end up doing as his dark master commanded and would hurt her?

He thrived on seeing others hurt and their suffering. He was afraid that the Devil would make him harm her and that he would end up enjoying it. She had thought the Devil would be sick and twisted, but this was taking sick and twisted to a whole new level.

“Asmodeus,” she whispered and he looked at her, his beautiful golden eyes void of any warmth. She wished she could touch his cheek and reassure him somehow, but she didn’t want to loosen her grip on him when they were so high above the city. “You will not fail me.”

He looked away again and uncertainty filled his eyes for a brief few seconds before they cleared again.

“Apollyon will not fail you. I am only a shadow of that male.”

It struck her that he was having one serious existential crisis and she was in part to blame for it. Her careless words when they had first met had dealt blows and wounded him, and now he couldn’t shake the doubts that she had placed in his head. She wished she had the ability to turn back time and relive that moment all over again with the knowledge she had now, but even she wasn’t that powerful.

All she could do was try to smooth things out and heal the wounds she had unwittingly inflicted with her words.

“You’re not a shadow… not any more than I’m a shadow of my cousin. She’s so damn good and caring, and I’m reckless and wild, and liable to go off demon hunting without telling anyone, and I’m forever getting into scrapes. Everyone tells me I should be more like her… but I’m not her. We share blood but we’re not the same person. We couldn’t be more different.” Liora leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering with her lips against his cool flesh.

He paused, beating his wings to keep them steady in the night air high above the glittering lights of Paris.

“You won’t fail me, Asmodeus. I’m choosing you,” she whispered against his skin and then settled her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to rebuff her.

He didn’t.

She looked down at the quiet world below them.

“Do you like the view?” she said to fill the silence.

“It seems alien to me… bright and colourful… strange… unsettling.” He didn’t sound as if he liked it. “Hell is a black cavernous ceiling above a forbidding harsh landscape. Rivers of molten lava and lakes of fire provide the only natural light. It is… different to this world. You would think it bleak, desolate and dangerous.”

Everything Apollyon had told her it was.

She frowned and looked at Asmodeus. “Then you’ve never seen the stars?”

His golden gaze drew away from the world below them and rose to meet hers. “No.”

“Will you take me somewhere?”

He nodded. “Where?”

Liora bravely took one hand away from his neck and Asmodeus’s grip on her increased, drawing her closer to him, filling her with a sense of safety that felt strange considering he was apparently made of pure evil. She didn’t think a male with nothing but evil in his heart would care much about whether she fell to her death or not. A male who was only evil and nothing good would have laughed as she fell and ensured he was close enough to get a good view when she splatted against the pavement.

She pointed to the distance, to the darkness beyond the city boundaries. “Take me out there. Take me to the stars.”

He held her against him and beat his broad black wings, carrying them over the city to the outskirts and then into the countryside. The air grew colder as they flew and she moved as close to Asmodeus as she could get, seeking his warmth. His skin heated hers but it didn’t chase the chill from deep within her.

The Devil wanted her and Asmodeus wanted to protect her.

She didn’t want to think about the reasons why his master might want her or what would happen to Asmodeus because he had disobeyed him, but it ran around her head, taunting her, mingling in with her thoughts about the man holding her.

He hadn’t been lying when he had told her that he took pleasure from terrible things, and her initial reaction had been the one he had probably sought to evoke with his words. He had wanted her to feel she shouldn’t be around him and that whatever this was that was happening between them would never have a happy ending. She had felt that for a split-second before she had rallied and had seen beyond his harsh words and hard expression to the trace of fear in his heart.

She had grown up in a world filled with love and light.

Asmodeus had grown up in a world made of darkness and death. A savage realm where horror and bloodshed were a part of daily life. What was normal there was terrible in her eyes but it was all he had ever known.

He had no friends to speak of and no sense of home.

Apollyon had called him evil, but Liora could see the good in him, buried deep.

Hidden.

“Is there good in you, Asmodeus?” she whispered and looked at him. It was getting too dark to see him clearly now that they were beyond the city lights.

“No.” The bluntness of his reply didn’t surprise her.

“Are you lying to me, Asmodeus?” Liora shifted her right hand to his cheek and tried to make him look at her but he tensed, making it impossible. Refusing her.

She sighed and frowned at him, trying to make him out in the darkness, wanting to see whether he was lying to her or not. If she couldn’t get him to confess there was a seed of good in him, then perhaps she could get him to admit that he viewed it as a weakness. She suspected that was the reason he denied its existence.

“What do they do to good people in Hell?” She tried to say it in a light and conversational tone so he would answer her but wasn’t sure she had succeeded when silence greeted her for almost a full minute.

“You do not want to know.” He beat his black wings and swooped lower, carrying her over fields towards a low hill in the distance.

“I do want to know.”

He glanced at her. “We make them realise that it is a flaw. We… remove it for them.”

That sounded like a polite and coded way of saying that they tortured the good out of people.

“In the same way that the Devil removed the good from Apollyon… torturing him until he lost his mind and held only evil in his heart?” Her voice shook and then she shrieked as Asmodeus dropped her and she hit the grass a few feet below, the impact jarring her spine.

Asmodeus growled and his eyes glowed in the darkness, as bright as the pools of lava in Hell that he had mentioned. He landed and stalked towards her, until he towered over her, his power increasing and pressing down on her. Her own rose in response, coming to protect her from his wrath.

“Yes,” he barked and grabbed her by the front of her crimson short-sleeved gypsy top and hauled her onto her feet. “I torture the good from fools who think that side of themselves makes them strong. I show them how weak it makes them… and I relish it.”

He shoved her away from him and stalked down the slope, a dangerous immense shadow in the darkness.

“Would the Devil torture the good from you if he knew there was some inside you?” she said without a trace of fear in her voice even though her hands were shaking. “Would he punish you, Asmodeus?”

“There is no good in me. You only believe there is. You want to see it, and so you do.” He turned back to face her, his golden eyes verging on scarlet.

“So you’re telling me you’re all bad… and nothing good?”

“To be good or bad you must believe the mortal concept of right and wrong… there is no right or wrong in Hell, Liora, not in the way you think of it. It is a human belief.” He took a step up the incline towards her and clenched his fists at his sides. “In Hell, there is only strength… and that strength is measured by the blood we have spilled, the bones we have crushed, and the pain we have dealt and endured. It is not measured by the good we do. It is measured by what you mortals believe is bad. In Hell… bad is good… and I am second only to the Devil.”

Liora collapsed to her backside on the grass and stared down at him, her heart aching for him. He denied the seed of good in him and now she understood why.

The Devil had conditioned him to resort to violence without a moment’s pause if he felt threatened, to eradicate any shred of positive emotions in himself and in others, to torture and maim, and destroy, because in Hell that was what made you strong.

His master had probably beaten it into him from the moment he had been born into that dark world, moulding him into the powerful male before her, one worthy of being the Devil’s right hand man.

One capable of doing the Devil’s dirty work and strong enough to command the respect of every demon and Hell’s angel in that realm.

A king of demons.

He had to be strong or face losing his standing, and the gods only knew what would happen to him if that happened. What use would the Devil have for a right hand man who had a sliver of good in his heart and knew compassion and caring, affection?

The Devil would kill him.

Asmodeus was something he had created and he would likely view the tiny seed of good in him as a fatal flaw that made him a failure. If a manufacturer found a fundamental problem in one of their products, they simply scrapped it and began again, working harder to ensure the next one didn’t fail.

Asmodeus didn’t want to die so he denied the good in his heart.

Liora held her hand out to him. “I don’t want to argue with you about right and wrong, or good and evil, Asmodeus. If you say there is no good in you, then I accept that. Come, look at the stars with me.”

He heaved a sigh, stalked up the hill, and set himself down beside her on the grass, spreading his black wings. One stretched out behind her, shielding her from the cold breeze washing over the brow of the hill, and the other rested on the grass to his left. His hands settled behind him, propping him up, and he tipped his head back and looked at the dark sky.

She wasn’t sure what to say to him. She’d had a head full of colliding thoughts before she had learned more about him and now she had a whole new bunch of thoughts knocking around in her skull. Apollyon needed a better word than ‘complicated’ for his apparently evil twin.

Liora looked across at him and held her sigh inside.

He had said that Paris seemed alien to him but she had the feeling that it was more than the city that had him constantly on edge. It was everything, from his surroundings, to her, and to the things that she had said to him, that had him questioning himself and all he knew.

This entire world was alien to him.

She worried that it was too alien and he would find a way to leave her whether she wanted that or not.

Liora set her hands behind her to prop herself up and intentionally laid her left hand over his right one. He tensed beneath her.

She tipped her head back, stared at the stars scattered across the black velvet, and said a silent prayer to the gods of nature that Asmodeus would stay because she thought she needed him, and not only because her survival potentially depended upon him.

The gods had never answered her before.

She hoped they would this time.

They owed her for taking her parents.

Chapter 5

Asmodeus’s head was tied in more knots than ever and every inch of him felt tense, and he couldn’t convince his body to relax, not while he was drowning under the tidal pull of his thoughts. He wanted to get them straight and figure everything out, and come to understand this world and Liora, but the more he spoke to her and the more he saw of this realm, the more on edge and overwhelmed he became.

He hadn’t meant to lose his temper with her, and he regretted dropping her from even a short height and shouting at her. Another first for him. He couldn’t remember ever regretting anything before. He couldn’t remember experiencing guilt before he had met Liora.

Her hand covered his, warm and slight, her light weight pressing it into the grass. She had fallen quiet and he wished that she hadn’t. He liked the sound of her voice and the sharp note it had at times, a tone that told him she wasn’t going to just back down and let him have his way.

He had felt powerless to leave her and had wanted to convince her to leave him, because he feared that the Devil would force him to obey his command to bring her to him. He had tried to draw a line between them, hoping to force her into seeing that he didn’t subscribe to her mortal concepts of right and wrong, and that there was no good in him as she would view it. Rather what she viewed as bad, he saw as good.

She had been afraid at one point, he felt sure of it, but had rallied and refused to leave him, instead telling him that she knew he could protect her and she was safest with him.

Asmodeus didn’t believe that, so he wasn’t sure how she could. He had done nothing to prove himself worthy of her belief and she barely knew him. She probably knew Apollyon well, and together with Serenity and perhaps their friends, that male would be better able to protect her from the Devil.

He stared up at the stars, trying to ignore the creeping fear at the back of his mind. He refused to feel that emotion. He had feared the Devil in the past, scores of centuries ago, when he had been young and weak, and unsure of himself. With every decade that had passed, every victory on the battlefield and captive that had cracked from his torture alone, he had grown stronger and more confident, becoming fitting of the title the Devil had given him.

King of Demons.

A title he had to live up to or risk losing.

The Devil would strip him of it if he discovered that he had already met the female and was refusing to bring her to him.

He had to return to his master and learn more about why he wanted her, but he didn’t think Liora would allow him to leave without a fight. She wanted him to stay.

Why?

His heart supplied that perhaps she desired to kiss him again.

He wished.

Asmodeus tried to focus on the stars and failed when his thoughts turned to Liora and when she had kissed him. He could still taste her. The kiss had made him feel strange, fuzzy and unfocused, and he wanted to do it again.

He wanted the petite female sitting beside him with her beautiful eyes on the stars and her hand covering his, even though she was full of light and purity.

For the first time in his life, he wished there was more good in him in the human sense of the word, not less. He wanted to be worthy of her and right now he wasn’t. A beautiful, noble, and caring female like Liora deserved a male of equal character.

She would never truly desire someone only capable of violence, cruelty, and darkness. Everything she viewed as bad.

His gaze slid to her against his will and traced the outline of her profile. Starlight bathed her skin in pale tones that his eyes could see. They were accustomed to the dark and marked another difference between them.

She was mortal.

He was immortal.

She glanced across at him and he averted his gaze to his wings. The wind played in his black feathers. It had felt good to fly with her in his arms, held close against his chest, and to feel her hands on his skin.

Asmodeus slipped his right hand from beneath hers, leaned to his left and brought his wing forwards, between them. She frowned and a flicker of hurt crossed her face. He hadn’t meant it as a barrier or an act of pushing her away.

He nimbly preened his ruffled feathers and she relaxed again, and went back to gazing at the stars. Asmodeus focused on tending to his wings. Some of the feathers were out of place from flying and he needed something other than Liora to concentrate on so he could free up his mind. Working on a task that was second nature to him often allowed him to clear his head and caused his thoughts to fall into better order. He hoped it was the case today.

Cleaning his weapons normally produced the same effect.

One of his swords did need cleaning, but he didn’t think that Liora would appreciate him tending to the blade. It would remind her of what he had done, and that the Devil wanted her, and it would spoil this quiet moment of calm.

“Do you not like the stars?” she whispered, her gaze returning to him.

Asmodeus paused at his work and looked over his wing to her. He did like the stars and he liked her too, and he thought she was infinitely more beautiful than they were. What would she say if he told her that?

He shoved that thought away and nodded. “I do, but my feathers are misaligned. They irritate me.”

“Can you put your wings away?” Her hazel eyes lowered to his wing and, before he could answer that he could if he desired it, she had reached over, laid her palm on the curve of his wing, and was running her hand down it.

Holy Hell, that felt good.

A shiver bolted through him, hot and fierce, reigniting his blood and making it burn for more. He wanted her to stroke his wing again, to caress it and tease him, driving him wild with need for her.

His fangs lengthened and he sensed the moment his irises brightened and began to verge on crimson. Her eyes widened and her fingers paused against his feathers.

She sounded breathless when she uttered, “You like me touching them?”

Asmodeus told himself not to nod and not to let on that her touching his wings had him hurtling towards the edge of bliss and had him rock hard in his loincloth.

He tried.

Failed.

He nodded and swallowed hard when she resumed her stroking, sending hot little shivers tripping over his flesh, stoking his hunger up degree after degree until he couldn’t take any more.

His red eyes narrowed on her lips.

He wanted to taste them again. He wanted to shove his fingers into her fall of soft chestnut hair, grasp the back of her head and yank it back so he could devour her mouth and master her.

He would do just that.

Asmodeus reached for her.

His head turned, his stomach twisted, and his fingers shook. A wave of weakness crashed over him and he trembled and pressed his hand to his stomach. His heart raced.

“Asmodeus, what’s wrong?” Liora’s hand settled against his cheek and he lifted his wide eyes to hers.

“I do not know.” Admitting that sent shame sweeping through him and he cast his gaze away from her. He focused on his body, his pulse spiking and skin prickling. What was wrong with him?

His vision blurred and his stomach cramped, violently this time, turning in on itself until he came close to vomiting.

“You’re shaking.” Liora pressed her palm to his forehead. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

Asmodeus swallowed and nodded, and tried to focus again. It was harder now and took much of his remaining strength. That was fading fast, leaving him shaking worse than he had been barely a second ago.

“Dizzy. Nauseous. Weak. Ailing… I have never felt like this before.” He lifted his gaze to hers again and clutched his bare stomach. “At the tower… I felt strange… I feared I was growing sick.”

“Maybe you are sick.” She pressed her hand harder against his forehead and he caught the flicker of panic in amidst the concern brightening her eyes. “We need to take you somewhere safe and find a way to treat you.”

He nodded again. He didn’t want to be sick. He didn’t like this feeling of weakness invading him.

She rose to her feet and offered her hand to him. He refused to take it and lumbered onto his feet, staggered a few steps down the hill, and finally found his balance. A growl slipped free of his lips and he straightened to his full height, unwilling to let whatever was affecting him get the better of him. He was not weak. He was strong, powerful, and immortal.

He would defeat this sickness.

Liora came to stand opposite him and grasped both of his hands in hers. She looked up at him, her fine eyebrows furrowed with the concern that shone in her eyes, and gave him a short smile.

“We’ll get you better. Just… trust me… okay, Asmodeus? Trust me.”

He wasn’t sure he knew how to trust because he had never tried to place that sort of faith in anyone before, but he was willing to try for her. He nodded and she closed her eyes, and sudden warmth flooded his hands and raced up his arms. He tried to take them away from her but she tightened her grip until it felt as if she was branding his bones with fire.

The dark countryside disappeared and a pale room took its place, filled with elegant matching furniture.

Asmodeus glanced around the expansive living room. It was light and airy. Was this Liora’s home?

“What the hell are you doing here?” The male voice crashed into his ears a split-second before a fist slammed into his jaw, snapping his head to his left and knocking him off balance. His head turned violently and he stumbled, reaching blindly for something to grab to stop himself from hitting the polished wooden floor. The male growled again. “Get behind me, Liora.”

Liora ignored that command and held on to Asmodeus’s wrists, keeping him upright.

She had betrayed him.

Asmodeus snarled and tore free of Liora’s grip, and came to face a male he hated with every drop of blood in his body.

Apollyon’s blue eyes flashed in warning and his black wings erupted from his bare back. The male beat them hard and slammed into Asmodeus, sending him flying backwards against the cream wall. He tried to evade the vicious swing of Apollyon’s right hook but he wasn’t quick enough in his weakened state. The male’s fist smashed into his mouth and blood flooded it.

Asmodeus growled and exposed his bloodied fangs, his anger rising and obliterating the weakness that had been invading him, driving it to the back of his mind.

“Apollyon,” Liora snapped and the large black-haired male paid her no heed as he pushed her behind him.

Apollyon sent his loose black cotton bottoms away, replacing them with his gold-edged black armour and Asmodeus hated him all the more.

Before him stood a completed version of himself, a male worthy of the notice of the female bravely advancing on them. He despised Apollyon for having what he lacked and therefore being able to possess what he could never dream of having.

Liora.

Asmodeus’s black claws sharpened and he swung at Apollyon. The male easily evaded the weak blow, grasped his shoulders, and shoved him hard against the wall, pinning his wings and knocking the wind from him.

Defeated.

How the demons would laugh if they could see him now. Weak and pathetic. Unable to fight. On the verge of collapse.

Only the wall and Apollyon’s unforgiving grip was keeping him standing.

“What are you doing here, Wretch?” Apollyon shoved him harder against the wall, his fingers pressing deep into his shoulders, and narrowed his swirling blue gaze on him. The male’s long black hair was wild and ruffled. He had been asleep. This was not Liora’s home.

She had brought him to Apollyon.

He had grown weak, sick, and she had taken it as a chance to bring him here to this male. Why? Because she desired him to see his failings? She had asked him to trust her. He would never trust her again.

Asmodeus’s lips peeled back off his fangs and he glared as he spit blood at his superior twin.

Apollyon released one of his shoulders to wipe the blood off his face and Asmodeus snarled and struggled again. He managed to crack his left fist across Apollyon’s jaw, knocking the angel away from him. It cost him.

His head turned, the world wobbled out of focus, and his balance left him.

“Asmodeus,” Liora shouted and was there before him in an instant, shoving Apollyon aside and wrapping her arms around his chest to support him.

Asmodeus growled, pushed her away, and stumbled to his left. He hit a small white wooden table in the corner of the room and the china lamp on it toppled onto the floor and smashed. Asmodeus shot his left hand out, pressed it against the wall in front of him and braced himself, breathing hard as his stomach rebelled again and the terrible weakness returned.

“I made a vow to deal with you if you ever left Hell,” Apollyon said, his voice pure darkness and malevolence. “I will do just that.”

“No,” Liora barked and when Asmodeus looked over his shoulder, he found her standing between him and his twin, her arms outstretched and blocking Apollyon’s way to him. “Please… he’s sick.”

The petite blonde Asmodeus knew to be Serenity appeared in the doorway behind Apollyon, a cream satin robe covering her slender frame. She finished tying the belt to keep it closed and frowned at him and then Liora.

Apollyon straightened and advanced a step.

Liora tensed.

Asmodeus growled and bared his fangs.

If the male dared to lay a finger on her, he would use the last of his strength to protect her. He would not let the bastard harm her.

Apollyon’s blue gaze shifted from Liora, to him and then back again.

“Explain why you have brought this creature to me.” Malice dripped from Apollyon’s deep voice and Asmodeus hated how alike they sounded even though they had been raised in different realms.

“Do not tell him.” Asmodeus pushed away from the wall before him, turned to face his enemy, and leaned against the other wall beside him, using it for support and hating that he needed to.

Liora looked over her shoulder at him and he knew she wasn’t going to obey that order. Foolish woman. She might believe that telling Apollyon and her cousin why he was here would help them trust him, but in reality it would do the opposite. Apollyon would want to remove his head.

She drew in a deep breath, lowered her hands and flexed her fingers at her sides. Her palms faced him and a tiny flicker of black, red and purple magic twirled in her hands, hidden from Apollyon and Serenity.

She would fight for him?

He pushed himself up until he was standing with only his right palm against the wall, and slowly straightened to tower behind her, eyelevel with Apollyon.

“The Devil sent him to take me to Hell, but he isn’t going to do that.” Liora’s voice didn’t wobble in the slightest and pride filled his heart. His little witch wasn’t afraid of Apollyon or her cousin. She would fight them if it came to it. “He wants to help me.”

“You believe him?” Serenity’s French accent strongly laced her English. “You are a fool… he is lying.”

“She is right, Liora. What reason do you have to trust his word? He is evil, despicable, and I have seen what he is capable of… he will deceive you given the chance. It will sweeten the satisfaction he will feel when he hands you over to his master.” Apollyon glared over her head at him and Asmodeus stared right back, his anger rising as each vicious word about him left Apollyon’s lips.

“If he is evil and despicable and takes pleasure from doing horrible things… then you are too… because all of that comes from you.” Liora tipped her chin up and squared her shoulders and Asmodeus grinned behind her, enjoying the brief flicker of shock in Apollyon’s eyes.

“Liora,” Serenity snapped and Liora held her left hand out to silence her.

“Stay out of this, Cousin.” Liora lowered her hand. “You want to know why I can trust him? He killed a nasty looking fallen angel to protect me when the Devil sent him to take me to Hell.”

Apollyon’s blue gaze shot to him. “Is this true?”

Asmodeus didn’t answer him. He lowered his gaze to the back of Liora’s head and fought off another wave of sickness. It was stronger this time and the room wavered so badly that he feared he would pass out.

When everything stopped whirling, Liora was before him, her hands against his bare chest, supporting him. The concern in her hazel eyes touched him deeply and his black eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t deserve such a tender, caring female.

“Please, Apollyon… he’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” Liora looked over her shoulder at the dark angel. “I didn’t know who else to bring him to.”

She hadn’t meant to betray him. She had brought him here because she had feared for him and had thought that Apollyon would know how to treat him, and she had known how he would react to it. That was why she had asked him to trust her.

Apollyon heaved a sigh, sent his armour and wings away, replacing them with the black loose bottoms he had worn before, and padded barefoot across the wooden floor to him.

Liora stepped aside.

Asmodeus bit back a growl when Apollyon roughly inspected him, checking his eyes, mouth, and throat and prodding his bare stomach.

Apollyon shoved him back against the wall. “He is hungry.”

The male stalked from the room, passing Serenity and heading into a dark area beyond an opening opposite Asmodeus. He returned with a clear plastic pack with some brown crescent-shaped items in it and threw it hard at Asmodeus. It hit him square in the face and dropped to the floor before he could catch it. Asmodeus growled at him.

Liora bent and picked up the pack of brown things, and frowned at them and then at him, and then at Apollyon.

“Hungry? Who doesn’t know when they’re hungry?” She looked back at him, an incredulous look on her face that he hated because it made him feel stupid.

He cast his gaze down to his boots and growled under his breath at her.

“Asmodeus has never left Hell. In Hell, he would never feel hunger or thirst, and would never feel the need to sleep. In the mortal world, he will.” Apollyon scoffed and Asmodeus looked up at him through his lashes, narrowed his gaze on him and snarled.

Apollyon grinned at him and Asmodeus wanted to rip it from his face. He was mocking him and making him feel like a fool, and he was doing it on purpose.

Asmodeus didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Liora.

He didn’t want her to think he was weaker than Apollyon and less intelligent.

A shadow of Apollyon.

“Why are you really here, Wretch? You might fool her, but you do not fool me. You are up to something and, in this world, I am king and you are nothing more than the court jester. Answer me, or I end you here and now.” Apollyon’s derisive tone cranked Asmodeus’s anger into the red.

Asmodeus shoved away from the wall and came to face him, using all of his remaining strength to keep upright, refusing to allow his twin to mock him in front of Liora and refusing to show any weakness.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he snapped and squared up to Apollyon, staring straight into his blue eyes. “If I wished it, I would be king of this realm and you would kneel at my feet. Remember that.”

Apollyon smiled and Asmodeus sensed the rise in his power. It swept over him, too much for him to handle in his weakened state, pressing down on him and making his knees threaten to give out. He would not allow it. He would not have Apollyon make a fool of him.

He would not unwillingly go to his knees.

“I will remember it… and I will remind you of it in a few minutes time when you pass out because you were hungry and thought you were sick.” Apollyon’s smile widened into a vicious grin. “I will drag you back to Hell where you belong.”

Asmodeus stepped back, edging towards a closed door that had many locks.

He glanced at Liora. She stared at him, disbelief still colouring her expression, mocking him as much as Apollyon’s words had been. Serenity stood a short distance behind her, her expression dark and threatening. His head turned again, spinning and sending him stumbling backwards. He was too weak to fight Apollyon and he wouldn’t stand here and let the male mock him and make a fool of him. He was no court jester. He was king.

King of Demons.

A king without a queen.

His gaze drifted to Liora and the look she still wore cut him to the bone. She thought him a fool. They all did. His fangs descended again and darkness rose within him, obliterating and crushing the weakness, the softer emotions he had foolishly allowed to take control of him because he had wanted her affection and attention. He didn’t need a queen.

“Burn in Hell,” Asmodeus barked, turned and grabbed the door handle. He yanked it open, breaking the locks, and stormed out of the apartment and down the dimly lit staircase.

“Asmodeus,” Liora called after him but he didn’t slow.

He didn’t need her.

He didn’t need anyone.

Chapter 6

Liora was madder than the March Hare.

She turned away from the staircase, stalked back into the pale spacious apartment, and glared at Apollyon.

“Have you been with him the whole day and night?” Apollyon said in his usual dark commanding tone that demanded an answer and she continued to stare at him, funnelling her fury into it so he could sense how angry she was with him. “Serenity has been worried sick… and you have been out with that wretch!”

“Don’t call him that!” Liora’s power curled around her fingers before she had even uttered a command to call it forth.

It swirled black and purple with flashes of red, a sign of her growing rage, and left her feeling invincible. If she wanted, she could put Apollyon on his backside before he could even attempt to defend himself. Serenity would be angry with her if she did such a thing though.

Liora found she didn’t care, but she wasn’t in the habit of making enemies of her friends.

She tamped down her anger and dialled back her power until magic lazily circled her hands, there if she needed it but not liable to spin out of control and harm her friends without her really desiring it. Whenever she lost her temper, her magic had a tendency to act without her consent. It was the danger of being in possession of such strong power, and something she’d had to live with ever since her parents had died and she had gained their magic on top of hers.

She drew in a slow deep breath to calm it further, bringing it firmly under her control, and exhaled, releasing her tension with it.

“He has a name, Apollyon,” she said in a low voice. “He is not a creature or a wretch or something despicable. He has feelings.”

“There is evil in him. Great evil. I could feel it. Can you not feel it too?” Serenity whispered and Liora looked her way and then back at Apollyon where he stood closer to her.

“You’re right. There is evil in him, but there is also good. I have felt it.” She waited for Apollyon to say something but he remained quiet.

She stared at him, seeing the similarities between him and Asmodeus, but also the differences. It wasn’t just their eye colour and hairstyle that set them apart. It was everything and nothing at the same time. They weren’t as different as Apollyon wanted to believe, and he had shown that tonight. He wasn’t as good as he acted. Asmodeus wasn’t as evil as he acted.

“You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?” Liora took a step towards Apollyon. He opened his mouth and she didn’t give him a chance to voice the lie she could see coming. “Tell me the truth, Apollyon. You have seen the good in him.”

Serenity looked at her dark angel, a frown creasing her brow.

Apollyon closed his eyes and lowered his head, causing long strands of his mussed hair to fall down and caress his sculpted cheeks. “You are right. There is good in him, but that does not mean he is worthy of your trust.”

“He protected me when the Devil sent that angel to bring me to him. He killed him and light took the body. He did that to stop the Devil from having me.” She neglected to mention that Asmodeus had stated that he had done it because he wanted her for himself.

Her heart said to go to him before he left her. He needed her. He was weak and hungry, and she wanted to take care of him and make him strong again, and not just because she believed he could protect her from the Devil.

“Why does the Devil want you?” Serenity said and she shrugged.

“I don’t know. Asmodeus doesn’t know either. He was only told to grab me and bring me to him.”

“I have seen what that fiend does with females and the lengths he will go to in order to get what he wants. It is highly likely that the Devil will attempt to sire a child on you.” Apollyon’s tone lacked warmth and his words left her cold to the bone.

The thought of being used in such a way turned her stomach and she knew from the way that Asmodeus had looked when he had told her that the Devil wanted her and he wouldn’t let him have her, that it didn’t sit well with him either.

She had to go to him, but there was something else she had to say first.

She stared straight into Apollyon’s rich blue eyes.

“You were mean to make him look foolish because he had never experienced hunger. It was cruel.” She held her hand up when Serenity went to speak and frowned at Apollyon, unafraid of the way the paler flecks in his eyes started to swirl and his power rose, beginning to press down on her. “It was cruel and you took pleasure from it.”

Liora shook her head. She had expected Apollyon to be angry with her for bringing Asmodeus to his home, and had even expected him to turn on Asmodeus, but she hadn’t expected him to be so nasty.

“I can see where Asmodeus got that trait,” she said and turned towards the door.

“Liora!” Serenity snapped and she braced herself on instinct, expecting her cousin to lash out at her with magic for her vicious verbal attack on her lover. When she spoke, her tone had softened and the power Liora felt in her faded. “Where are you going?”

Just like her good cousin to forgive her so swiftly. If their positions had been reversed, Liora would have at least shot a warning spell across her bow.

“I have to speak with Asmodeus.” Liora looked over her shoulder at Apollyon and Serenity.

“You cannot trust him,” Serenity said and came to stand beside Apollyon in the middle of the room. They made a good couple. Both of them were powerful, virtuous and held the respect of their peers.

Perhaps Liora and Asmodeus looked that good standing beside each other. She would have to look in the next window or mirror they passed and find out. Both of them were powerful, a bit wicked and dangerous, and didn’t give a damn what others thought about them.

“I can trust him. I’ve felt the good in him and I know he will protect me.”

“There is good in him, Liora, as well as evil, but that does not mean you can trust him. He works for the Devil. He was created for that purpose, to be the Devil’s right hand man, a powerful ally. He serves that dark lord, Liora.” Apollyon took a step towards her, his black eyebrows pinching tightly together and his blue eyes narrowing with them. He looked like Asmodeus when he did that, and it made her want to see her angel even more.

“I need to speak with him. I can handle myself and I will be careful, but I have to go.” She stepped out of the door and raced down the stairs, taking deep breaths with each step, feeling the oppressive weight of being around Apollyon and Serenity lifting as she neared the ground floor and hopefully Asmodeus.

She didn’t just want to talk to Asmodeus about what the Devil had planned for her. She wanted to talk to him about the weird feelings she’d had recently, the sense that someone was watching her and had been close to her several times. She needed to know if he thought it was the Devil or someone else.

Liora muttered another prayer under her breath that when she reached the main doors of the building, Asmodeus would be there.

She bolted across the marble floor of the elegant foyer and shoved the brass and glass doors open. Her heart lifted and her tension melted away when she spotted Asmodeus standing on the pavement in the quiet narrow street, his head tipped back, causing the longer strands of his black hair to fall away from his handsome face.

Liora took the three stone steps down to the pavement and stopped beside him.

He looked stern and his golden eyes had gone cold. She didn’t like it.

A chill crept through her when his irises brightened, the flakes in them beginning to swirl, and he wavered on the spot, as if in a trance. His gaze slowly inched down to her, bringing his head down with it, his eyes focused on her like a hawk eyeing prey and then he visibly relaxed. His shoulders settled and his frown disappeared, as if whatever had been bothering him was gone now.

“Is something wrong?” She couldn’t get her voice above a whisper while he was staring straight at her, the black and amber flakes in his eyes settling and his pupils narrowing.

He shook his head. “Go back inside and leave me alone.”

Well, that was rude. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“No,” she said and he raised a single black eyebrow at her. She could see straight past his cool but dark façade to the reason he wanted her to leave him alone and she wasn’t going to let him have his way, because he had no reason to feel hurt or upset. She reached out and laid her left hand on his forearm. “You’re new to hunger. It isn’t unreasonable that you would mistake it for sickness.”

Asmodeus huffed and stalked away from her, heading down the street, the long feathers of his black wings fluttering around his ankles. Liora frowned now. She wasn’t going to let him leave her, not when he was still starving and not even after she had somehow managed to get him to listen to her.

She hurried after him, adjusting her small black bag so it was behind her and wasn’t hindering her strides.

“Go away, Liora,” Asmodeus tossed the words over his broad shoulders and she shook her head even though he couldn’t see it.

“Not going to happen. There’s a nice café this way. We could get something to eat.” She looked up at the sky. It was getting light but it was still early. It would be at least thirty minutes to an hour before the café opened for the morning rush.

He cheated.

He spread his black wings and beat them hard, forcing her to stop to avoid being struck by them, and shot into the air. He landed on the edge of the building above her and strolled along it.

Now he was really pissing her off.

Liora focused on his position and called her magic. It was going to take a lot of her remaining power to get her up there. She had used a vast amount of it to bring Asmodeus to Apollyon and had left herself weak.

The world darkened and then a different view greeted her. Rooftops stretched around her, lower than she had expected.

Her coordinates were off.

Liora shrieked and dropped to the tar roof several feet below her, landing awkwardly on her right foot. Her ankle blazed, fire shooting up her leg, and she cried out again and her backside hit the roof. Her shin and foot throbbed as she rolled onto her back and clutched them, gritting her teeth against the pain.

Asmodeus appeared above her, his golden gaze darting between her eyes. The concern in it touched her. He shifted back and she wanted to ask him not to leave her and then realised that he wasn’t going further than a few feet.

He eased her hands away from her leg and carefully removed her black leather ankle boot. He placed it down on the roof beside her, kneeled and set her foot down on his bare thighs. She stared at him as he gently inspected her ankle, feeling the bones, a beautiful frown of concentration on his face.

It hurt like a bitch.

“Is it broken?” she said, afraid that she had pushed her luck too far this time. She had never broken a bone outside of a battle before and in those circumstances adrenaline kept the pain at bay until long after she had claimed victory.

He shook his head, settled her foot in his lap, and frowned down at her. “You were a fool for following me.”

That wasn’t very nice. “I had to… I need to speak with you about everything. I need to know why you didn’t take me to your master… I need to hear you say it again.”

He looked away from her, his focus fixing on the roof beside her. The sun was rising behind him, casting his face in shadows but giving him a glorious golden and pink hued backdrop. His black wings shifted and he drew in a deep breath that had her pain melting away as her gaze dropped to his bare chest and she watched his muscles ripple.

“The Devil is only my master in name. He does not rule me. We are equal in power and standing.”

She could see he truly believed that.

Liora didn’t. If the Devil commanded him to bring her to him, Asmodeus would fight the order, but she feared he would fail. Part of her said that she was safer away from him, with Apollyon and Serenity. The rest overruled it and told her to stay and not let him slip out of her grasp.

“Why didn’t you take me to him?” she whispered and his eyes finally came back to rest on her. They lost their darkness and the cold edge they had gained, and softened, revealing the emotions he tried so hard to hide from the world.

“I will never let him have you. You will never belong to him… because… I desire… something foolish. Pointless.” Asmodeus stood and raked his fingers through his hair. He tipped his head back and sighed.

“It isn’t foolish and pointless to desire something, Asmodeus… not if the object of that desire feels the same.”

His gaze sharply dropped to hers and widened. She smiled and held her hand out to him.

“Help me up?”

He nodded and slipped his hand into hers. The moment they touched, a jolt ran up her arm, causing her fine hairs to stand on end and her heart to race. She stared up into Asmodeus’s beautiful golden gaze, catching his shock and awe, feeling the same inside.

He eased her onto her feet and bent before her. She laid one hand on his shoulder to steady herself when he carefully slipped her boot back onto her injured foot and didn’t let go when he stood.

Asmodeus paused, his gaze holding hers, filled with the conflicting feelings that she could sense in him through her touch. His eyes drifted down to her mouth and her lips parted, anticipation stealing her breath and leaving her trembling. She ached to feel his mouth on hers again, reaffirming everything he had told her before, making her feel that she wasn’t going crazy and that things would somehow work out between them.

He bent and scooped her up into his arms, turned and beat his wings. They lifted off into the air and Asmodeus beat his wings again, carrying them over a gap between the buildings. He wobbled and she snapped her head around, catching him with his eyes closed and a frown pinching his eyebrows.

“Asmodeus?” She clutched his cheeks.

He growled, twisted awkwardly and dropped. She threw her arms around his neck and held on, screwing her eyes shut. He landed hard, stumbled forwards a few steps and eventually righted himself.

Liora opened her eyes and smoothed her thumbs across his cheeks, her fingertips resting along his jaw. “You need to eat. Your blood sugar will be hitting rock bottom.”

He frowned, lifted his eyelids, and stared at her. Red ringed his irises.

“I am fine.”

Liora sighed and stroked his jaw, searching for a way of making him see that she wasn’t mocking him and she didn’t want to make him feel weak. She wanted to make him strong again. She cursed Apollyon for acting the way he had towards his twin, putting it in his head that he was weak because he needed to eat and hadn’t realised that hunger was making him sick.

She had to get him to eat. How?

She smiled.

“Well, I’m hungry and I’m going to eat, so you might as well come with me and eat too.” Before he could respond, she tapped the last of her power to teleport them to an alley behind the main street where her favourite café was located.

Asmodeus frowned at her and set her down.

She looked him over. “Am I seeing you as everyone else will be?”

He nodded. That wasn’t good. She couldn’t take him to the café when he was sporting wings and partial armour.

“You’ll have to change your appearance,” she said and he stared at her, his gaze focused and intense. After half a minute, she added, “Done?”

He shook his head and his handsome face twisted into a black scowl. His hands clenched at his sides, the toned muscles of his forearms following them, giving her a brief flash of how sexy his body could be, exuding strength and power.

“I do not want to go with you.” Asmodeus turned away from her and folded his arms across his chest.

Liora’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead as it dawned on her that he was too proud to admit that he had tried and had found he didn’t have the strength left to change his appearance.

“That’s cool. I’ll just go and get some stuff and bring it back here. I hate how crowded it gets there. It’s nice here.” It wasn’t nice at all but her only other option was to call him on his problem and have him mad at her, and then he would try to leave her again.

She left before he could say anything, hobbling out of the side road and into the main avenue. Her ankle was killing her and she wished she had kept a sliver of magic, enough to take some of the pain away and kick start her body’s natural healing ability.

There were plenty of people coming and going along the Champs Elysees. She looked further up the wide tree-lined street to her right and smiled. The café was open, the cream awning stretching out from the beautiful old sandstone building. Parasols covered elegant black wrought-iron tables and chairs on the wide pavement in front of it. She would have liked to sit there with Asmodeus, enjoying sweet pastries and the early morning sun. Maybe they could do that some other time.

Liora brought her black bag around and rifled through it for her purse. Asmodeus would need something sweet, and something substantial. The café wasn’t likely to have all the baguettes made for the day at this early hour. Savoury was probably off the menu. She hoped Asmodeus liked sweet things.

She entered the small café and made her way to the long counter that was covered in tall curved glass that showed off the beautiful array of sweets they offered. Her gaze darted from one delicious pastry to another. One of the staff asked her what she wanted and she ended up ordering more than she needed, and two bottles of orange juice to go.

She wasn’t sure what sort of pastries Asmodeus would like, or whether he would like them at all. He had never left Hell before and she presumed that meant he had never eaten before too. He had some serious catching up to do and she couldn’t wait to see what he made of the things she had bought. Introducing him to the pleasures of food was going to be interesting.

Liora paid for her purchases and made her way back to the alley. Asmodeus was sitting on the step of one of the buildings lining the narrow street, his wings carefully placed so the longest black feathers curled around his ankles. He looked pale, his skin almost milk-white against his wild black hair and thick dark lashes. He lifted his head and gazed at her as she hobbled towards him, his golden eyes warming and then burning like fire as they took her in. Heat chased in the wake of his eyes, setting her body aflame and stirring a different sort of hunger.

She wanted to drop her things beside him, settle herself astride his lithe muscular thighs, and run her fingers through his hair, raking the satiny black strands back from his sculpted face. She would force him to tip it back and look up at her, and the action would cause his lips to part. She would swoop on them then, feeling their firmness beneath hers, waiting for him to hit that point where he found the courage to take the lead and showed her a hint of the passion he held locked beneath his incredible exterior.

His gaze dropped to the bag she carried, reminding her that he had to eat before she could do anything with him or he was liable to pass out. She sat on the step below him, took the white box of pastries out of the carrier bag and carefully untied the ribbon. She pushed the lid up to reveal the neat rows of sweet treats and her mouth watered.

Asmodeus stared.

“What are those?” He looked curious. That was good. Maybe he would eat some for her.

“Pastries.” She plucked a strawberry mille-feuille out of the box and offered it to him.

He took it from her and peered at it, turning it this way and that and getting cream and icing all over his hand.

“It’s my favourite.” She picked up the other one she had bought and bit into it. The layers of fine crisp puff pastry, custard-cream and strawberries were delicious and she moaned and took another bite, unable to resist the tempting allure of the sweet heavenly confection.

When she risked a glance at Asmodeus, his pastry was gone and he was licking his fingers. She moaned for a different reason, her head filling with thoughts about what he could do with that tongue and some cream, and he looked at her.

There was a spot of cream at the left corner of his mouth and she couldn’t resist. She reached up, swiped it off and sucked her finger clean. His gaze darkened and zeroed in on her lips. Her heart fluttered in response, shivery heat washing through her and making her want to keep sucking her finger and giving him wicked ideas.

Food first. Fun later.

She finished her pastry and offered him the box.

He took a small rectangular slice of chocolate gateaux and devoured it in two bites before taking a pain au chocolat, and then a wedge of tarte au citron. He pulled a face on eating that one, his nose wrinkling up.

“Not into the citrus fruits?” she said and he shook his head. She pulled the bottle of orange juice from her bag and smiled apologetically. “You might not like this then.”

He took it anyway and inspected the plastic bottle. Rather than taking the bottle from him and twisting the cap off, something that would probably make him feel foolish again, she took her own bottle from the bag and opened it intentionally slowly.

Asmodeus mimicked her, acting like a pro and snapping the cap off his bottle. He drank half the contents in one go and then frowned at the bottle.

“It is not as bad as the sweet thing.” He set the bottle down beside him on the stone step and took the other slice of chocolate gateaux, and then paused when her gaze lovingly followed it towards him. “Would you like some?”

She had bought the pastries, so she deserved at least a portion of the gateaux. It was her second favourite item.

Asmodeus held it out to her and rather than taking it, she leaned over and bit into it, her gaze on his the whole time. His golden irises darkened again, his pupils expanding to relay his desire. They only darkened further when she licked her lips.

“Delicious,” she whispered and he growled, his gaze boring into her mouth, robbing her of her breath and making her silently beg him to kiss her.

He hesitated and she cursed him when he sat back, taking the remains of the gateaux slice with him. He devoured it and set the paper case back in the box.

Liora stuffed her face with a piece of tarte tatin. It wasn’t as sweet as kissing Asmodeus would have been and it didn’t satisfy her in the slightest.

“I enjoy these pastries,” Asmodeus said and licked his lips clean, enticing her into kissing him if he wouldn’t kiss her.

He finished his orange juice, leaned back and sighed. He was looking better already, his skin no longer a sickly hue and his strength returning. She could feel his power rising again, coming back to the level it usually rested at when he was around her.

“Are you feeling better?” She screwed up the paper her tarte tatin had been on and tossed it back into the box.

He should be feeling sick after eating that many pastries but, then again, she had seen Apollyon devour an entire chocolate cake in one sitting without it giving him an upset stomach.

He frowned. “My head still hurts.”

“It’ll pass.” Had he never had a headache before either? What else was new to him?

He lowered his eyes to the road and stared at it, his gaze turning distant and cold again. He stayed like it for so long that the worry that had faded on hearing he was feeling better began to return.

“Are you still unwell?” she said.

He blinked and his attention snapped to her, a flicker of surprise in his golden eyes, as if he had lost track of the world and was shocked to see her sitting beside him.

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I am being compelled to return.”

The Devil was ordering him to return to Hell. Liora’s worry returned, worse than ever. If he went back to Hell, would the Devil punish him for killing the angel and lying to him about her?

What if he didn’t go back?

“Will the Devil send another bad angel after you if you don’t go to him?” she said and his eyes opened and slid across to her.

“I am a bad angel… the baddest.”

Liora blushed at that, wicked scenarios running through her mind. He quirked his right eyebrow at her reaction and she could understand why it had confused him. He had meant to place distance between them, warning her away from him, and she had the terrible feeling she knew why.

He stood, brushed the crumbs off the strips of armour around his hips and stepped down onto the pavement.

“Return to Serenity and stay with them. You will be safe there. I must go.”

The ground bucked and cracked, a glowing fiery fault line stretching thirty feet across the road in front of her. The jagged line widened and lava dripped down into the dark crevasse, hissing as it disappeared from view.

A gateway to Hell.

“Wait.” Liora shot to her feet and reached out to him.

Asmodeus looked over his shoulder at her and then dropped into the darkness.

His wings caught her arm as he spread them and she tipped forwards, flailed her arms in a desperate attempt to right herself, and shrieked as she fell over the edge and plummeted into the abyss.

 

Have you enjoyed this long sample of Her Wicked Angel? To continue reading, please purchase a copy of the book.

Her Wicked Angel is available now in paperback from Amazon and also as an ebook from Amazon Kindle, Apple iBooks, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook and other retailers.

For links to where this book is available, please visit:

http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/hwa  

About the Author

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Felicity Heaton is a USA Today best-selling author who writes passionate paranormal romance books as Felicity Heaton and F E Heaton. In her books she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons!

If you're a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, Felicity Heaton’s best selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series she writes as F E Heaton or any of her stand alone vampire romance books she writes as Felicity Heaton. Or if you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try Felicity Heaton’s new Vampire Erotic Theatre series.

In 2011, five of her six paranormal romance books received Top Pick awards from Night Owl Reviews and Forbidden Blood was nominated as Best PNR Vampire Romance 2011 at The Romance Reviews. In 2012, she was awarded the GraveTells Author of the Year Award, and Heart of Darkness was announced as a 2013 Epic Ebook Awards finalist in the Paranormal Romance category. Many of her books receive five star reviews from readers and review sites alike.

To see her other novels, visit: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk

If you have enjoyed this story, please take a moment to contact the author at author@felicityheaton.co.uk or to post a review of the book online

 

Follow the author on:

Her Mailing List – http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/newsletter.php

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PARANORMAL ROMANCE BOOKS BY FELICITY HEATON

Stories in the Eternal Mates romance series by Felicity Heaton

Kissed by a Dark Prince

Claimed by a Demon King – coming in 2014

 

Stories in the Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series by Felicity Heaton

Covet

Crave

Seduce

Enslave

Bewitch

Unleash

 

Stories in the Her Angel series by Felicity Heaton

Her Dark Angel

Her Fallen Angel

Her Warrior Angel

Her Guardian Angel

Her Demonic Angel

Her Wicked Angel

 

Stories in the Vampires Realm series by Felicity Heaton

Prophecy: Child of Light

Prophecy: Caelestis & Aurorea

Prophecy: Dark Moon Rising

Eternity: The Beginning (free short available at: www.vampiresrealm.com)

Spellbound

Reunion

Seventh Circle

Winter's Kiss

Hunter's Moon

Masquerade 

 

Stand alone paranormal romances by Felicity Heaton

Vampire for Christmas

Blood and Snow

Love Immortal

Ascension

Forbidden Blood

Heart of Darkness

 

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.01.2014

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