The following days are a blur of rich foods, an exorbitant amount of alcohol and some of the most sordid shit one could ever imagine. Each night is just a revolving door of sex, violence and indulgence, and while I struggled with it in the beginning, eventually I just become…numb. That indifference I wanted to conjure, that impassive guise that I tried so desperately to adopt from Niko, somehow I learned to just stop giving a fuck. I could look at a woman being gang-banged, every orifice filled to the brim, and not bat an eye. And it didn’t scare me. The scary part was that I felt absolutely…nothing.
“I’m bored,” Niko announces, heaving a heavy sigh. He reclines in his seat until his leg is literally propped on the armrest.
“Me too,” one of the trampy triplets says. Amanda. Over the past few days, I’ve made a concerted effort to get to know them, which only seems fair, considering that we slept together. I’ve learned that they’re not just demons, but Succubi. The Succubus is a creature that appears to be extremely beautiful and alluring for the purpose of seducing her prey. And once her target is immobilized, she drains their life force, leaving behind only a gray, decrepit husk of a human.
Of course, the girls wouldn’t do that to me. Not unless Lucifer requested it. And after seeing them in action one night, during a rather grotesquely intriguing display of their powers, I’m more than thankful to be on their good side. Holy shit.
“Well, what should we do tonight?” Lucifer inquires, gliding the tip of his finger over the rim of his glass. “Eden?”
I lift my chin at the sound of my name on his luscious lips, and give him my unabashed stare. “I don’t know. How about you?”
He raises a curious brow. “Me?”
I shrug. “We’ve seen what much of your court can do, but what about you? So far, you’ve showered me with clothing and gifts, and proved to be a charming host. But is that all? Is that the real you? Welcoming…generous. Tame?”
The room goes silent. Even the giggling girls seem to swallow their breaths.
Lucifer gazes at me, the flecks of obsidian in his eyes glittering with playful contempt. He slowly sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, causing a prickling thrill to erupt in my belly. I ignore my body’s treachery.
He smiles slyly before snapping his fingers.
A row of scantily clad belly dancers file in, positioning themselves around the table. Even with their tinkling bells jiggling around gyrating hips, his gaze never strays from mine. Even when they begin to disrobe and gather around him, his stare never falters. And when they begin to caress him, pulling at his clothing and revealing smooth alabaster skin, his eyes stay on mine.
I don’t blink. I barely breathe. As I watch the belly dancers fall to their knees and tear at Lucifer’s suit, all rational thought seems to fail me, as if I am paralyzed in a prison of my own lust. He’s completely bare from the waist up, yet the sight of his skin isn’t what disarms me. It’s the girls…the way they grovel at his feet. The way they worship him in all his terrifying power. As if he is their god, their father, their savior. As if he is the embodiment of all things truly evil and beautiful.
He still hasn’t moved when the girls turn to each other and begin to kiss. I don’t even flinch. I’ve become desensitized by these small shows of eroticism over the past days. I don’t even blush anymore. But when their kisses become ravenous, borderline violent, something in Lucifer’s gaze shifts, as if the obsidian is eclipsing the sparkling violet and blue hues.
It only takes a few moments before I notice that the girls are not even kissing at all—not anymore, at least. There’s blood running down their chins as they nip and…oh my God…chew on each other’s faces. Teeth stained with gleaming red tear into skin and sinew with vicious delight as they devour each other, tearing out hunks of flesh. Gaping, gushing holes are left where full, perfect lips once teasingly smiled. And Lucifer just…sits there. Unshakeable. Unmoved. As if he can’t feel the hot blood running down his legs and pooling at his feet.
The bit of humanity left within me begs for him to stop this, but I don’t utter a word. These girls will feast on each other until nothing but bloody stumps of ravaged flesh are left on the ruby floor, and I still won’t speak. Their deaths will be on my hands, along with Zachary and Danielle’s. But this time, I don’t cry or beg for Lucifer to stop. I’ll swallow it, just like the sour pill of my broken conscience.
After some time, when the blood begins to blur into the floor like a river of crimson, Lucifer stands and brushes the near lifeless bodies at his feet aside, leaving them in a gory heap. He steps over them as if they are nothing more than trash, and takes the few short strides to wear I sit, still as stone, and grips my jaw with bloodstained fingers, rough enough to make me gasp. It’s the first time I’ve broken character all night, and I know he is just relishing the fact that he can still evoke my weakness.
“Be careful what you wish for, dear,” he whispers, bringing his lips to my ear. His breath is as hot as his tone is cold. “I wasn’t even trying.”
And just like that, he drops his grasp and turns, leaving the rest of us around the table stunned and silently horrified.
I take it as my cue to leave, and when I finally reach my room, Saskia at my heels, I manage to make it to the entryway of the bathroom before I vomit all over the floor. My impish servant doesn’t say a word, only amplifying the sounds of my violent retching. When I’ve emptied my stomach, she helps me into the bath, then turns to attend to the mess.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, my throat raw. “Please…I’ll clean it up.”
Saskia shakes her head. “It’s no bother. I expected much more to clean. You’ve done better than I anticipated.”
I don’t hide the tears from her tonight. And Saskia doesn’t seem to mind them either.
The next morning, I’m greeted by an envelope propped against my bedside lamp. I don’t even want to think about how it got in here, and when. I quickly tear it open and pull out the parchment and read the elegant scroll with wide, excited eyes.
“A ball?” I blurt out as Saskia enters with my breakfast tray. “He’s hosting a ball in my honor?”
I don’t miss the shaking in Saskia’s hands, strong enough to rattle the metal covered dishes. Somehow, she looks even more pale than before.
“I take it this is a bad thing?” I question, slipping on the silk robe that matches my ridiculously comfortable pajamas. If there’s one thing I could get used to down here, it’s the quality fabrics. My skin has never felt so luxurious.
Saskia sets down the tray and lowers her head, her voice more quiet than usual. I’ve had to grow accustomed to straining to hear her speak. “He will invite the elite from every realm, including Nikolai’s father. His top advisors and demon warriors will also be in attendance.”
Now I understand the shaky hands. “What should I expect?”
“Dancing, champagne, music.”
I frown. “Before the public beheading? Or will we be waltzing around a mass orgy?”
Saskia shakes her head, and I think she almost smiles, revealing gleaming, razor sharp fangs. I’d never seen her teeth before, and holy shit…I was not expecting that. “Nothing like that. He’d never present you to the public accompanied by such crassness.”
“So why should I be worried?”
Saskia continues the task of uncovering plates and arranging my place setting, something I’ve told her several times is unnecessary. “He wishes to charm and seduce you, to make you feel like a queen amongst the most deviant of monsters. By…revealing you, he is moving to the next stage of his plan.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, picking through a bowl of berries accompanied with a platter of eggs, bacon, sausage and pancakes. Gluttony seems like a natural occurrence.
“Marrying you.”
An innocent blueberry is suddenly pulverized between my fingertips, leaving a mess of purplish flesh to bleed down my palm. “Get the fuck outta here.”
Saskia’s eyes go wide with panic before she understands the meaning behind my words. My complete inability to censor myself has taken some time for her to get used to. “He’s getting desperate. Your only saving grace is that you haven’t surrendered your body to him. After you do that, resisting him is impossible.”
Heat floods my cheeks and I look down onto my plate. “And what happens if I do?” I whisper.
I don’t miss the sharp intake of breath before she answers. “Then he already has you.”
I look up into her doe-eyed stare, the blacks of her pupils as boundless as my fear. I can’t tell her what I’ve done. I can’t tell anyone. But if what she is saying is true, am I truly Lucifer’s property? And his quest for an heir…what if…what if…
I grasp my stomach. It’s been more than a little queasy this past week, but I just attributed that to the disgusting displays of brutality I’ve had to endure every night. There’s no way I could be…it’s physically impossible.
Right?
I flip through my mind’s Rolodex, thinking back to that night at the Watcher’s party. And my world—as bleak and hopeless as it is—comes crashing down around me in shards of blood-stained glass and rubble.
“Try not to let your hormones get the best of you. You’re ovulating. Nephilim and Cambion are highly coveted.”
It was Lilith who told me that as we walked in the Watcher’s mansion. But knowing what I do now, she could have been lying. In fact, I’m certain she had to have been. She probably just wanted to dissuade me from hooking up with Legion.
Which I did.
Just days later.
Shit.
Maybe I’ve been playing the role of Whore just a little too well.
Even if I was ovulating, would I still have been fertile when Legion and I slept together? He didn’t seem concerned about protection, and I’m positive he came inside me. Hell, I felt him do it. Just the pressure of his seed filling me was enough to trigger the most intense orgasms I’ve ever experienced. I can almost still feel him pulsing inside me, flexing inside my womb. That inhuman strength and potency left my entire body trembling with aftershocks for nearly an hour.
And Lucifer…as erotic and beguiling and—fuck—mind-blowing as that experience was, was it even real? The moment Legion’s knocking broke through my haze of lust, the illusion shattered, and I was pressed against the bathroom door with my fingers working fiercely inside me. All of it could have been a figment of my imagination, a trick planted by the Devil himself. Which would mean that there’s no way he came inside me, and whatever I’m feeling—in my heart and in my gut—has nothing to do with him at all.
So what am I feeling?
I can’t quite decipher it, but I should be irrevocably convinced that there is nothing stirring in my belly but shame, doubt and fear. But can I admit that? Even to myself?
It’s not until a shock of midnight blue catches my eye that I even divert my gaze from my phantom belly bump. Saskia stands silently just feet away, cradling a lavish ball gown the color of the deepest part of the ocean. The full skirt is tulle and is bedecked with onyx raindrop crystals. A strapless, plunging bodice with a scalloped lace overlay makes it look less cheesy prom and more couture. Of course, it’s beautiful, and has been chosen just for me. I’m sure Lucifer even knew it’d bring out the violet undertones in my hair. It’s sickening how well he thinks he knows me.
“We should get started,” Saskia announces.
I frown. “But it’s morning. The ball isn’t for hours.”
“I know,” she replies, those wide, black eyes falling on my nest of bed head and smeared mascara. Cracked out raccoon would be an accurate description of my look. “We should have started last night.”
Holy hell.
Saskia told a joke.
And it’s exactly what I need to momentarily get my mind off the anxiety that’s currently eating a whole through my stomach.
Anxiety…or something else.