Luc left me to my own devices after my trip to the sculpture garden.
I was not aware of his methods, but somehow Lucifer was always privy to the inner workings of the castle.
I had slipped up by voicing my insecurities regarding the prophecy. Perhaps Luc had sent me away because he hoped that my absence would make me more accepting of the fact that he would bare a child with another woman.
If anything, it turned my pain into something ingrained into the marrow of my bones.
The occasional reminders of an eventual child had been easier to deal with when the future was a distant and ever changing possibility.
A human's life was only so long. Lucifer had confirmed Ms. Bleu as the mother of his child, which meant that the prophecy was going to come to fruition within the next twenty years.
Who was I kidding? The events were imminent.
The prophecy said nothing of a long and healthy partnership between the womb that bore his progeny. Although no one knew what the last sentence of the prophecy said. For all I knew, it could allude to Luc finally taking a mate.
Mating for Purebloods was a serious matter. It involved marking and then sharing a soul.
Luc had branded me with his Sigil, which I wore on the nape of my neck. However, he had never completed the ritual. It involved giving yourself over completely.
Luc and I had a strange relationship by Hell's standards. A consort was a permanent relationship and status symbol, and it was rare to have one and to not have the mate power exchange in place as well.
It often made the weaker partner a bargaining chip.
Luc had trained me though. I could withstand almost anything because Luc had taught me to hold onto my pain. To savour it.
To be cold and callus at the snap of my master’s fingers. I was conditioned.
Alone in my chambers, Luc had vacated the room at some point in the past. We had used to share the wrought iron four poster bed.
Although, because Demon’s did not sleep, we often utilised it for other activities.
Moving slowly and with purpose, I got into the 'Needle at the bottom of the sea' tai chi position and closed my eyes. I inhaled deeply and allowed my mind to calm.
Still, I felt empty. As if a part of me was missing.
I could not decide if it was because of my broken connection to Hell and to Luc or if it was because I was away from my life in the Human Realities.
A soft knock caused me to open my eyes sluggishly. My handmaiden came in and gave a curtsy.
“My Queen,” she whispered as if I had hung the moon itself. I found myself having a hard time adjusting to being spoken to like a God. “The Master wishes for you to be ready for this evening’s festivities.”
I eased myself out of position and put my hands on my hips. I had always practiced tai chi entirely nude. “What has he planned?”
The hound bowed her head and avoided looking at my body. “He is convening the Seven and wishes for you to be at his side.”
I rolled my eyes. I disliked the dog and pony show that came with any gathering involving the seven original Purebloods of Hell.
“Master has requested an outfit,” the hound said lightly.
“Of course he has.” I shook my head in disgust but still walked to the closet like a good little slave. I watched as the Hound perused the shelves until she found the preapproved outfit.
The gown was sheer but floor length. It was made of crimson silk; the colour was designed to contrast directly with my chalk white hair.
It was designed to be form fitting and a panel of material was missing between the neckline right to the navel. It highlighted my breasts whilst hiding my nipples.
I allowed the hound to pull my hair into a chignon with a few carefully chosen strands curled to frame my face. She used a jade comb, which I was certain Luc had pulled from the Archives. I felt the low hum of destruction in its metal prongs but thought nothing of it. Luc often used my accessories to conceal weaponry.
When I was primped and ready, a guard that I did not recognise came to my chambers to collect me. I was led to the dining room, where Luc met me at the door.
Gone was his armour and sword, in its place was a silk tunic lined with red threads. It was clothing designed for a rich prince that had never done a day’s graft in his life. Everything about Luc’s appearance was always a carefully constructed facade.
He wanted the rest of the Seven to view him as the spoiled favourite of the Lord. The one that betrayed the Lord for his own selfishness.
They knew nothing of my master. The cruel Devil.
Lucifer had so many faces. I was certain that I was the only person that saw past them all to the man underneath. Even that man was a puzzle though.
“You look ravishing, Pet.” Luc placed a delicate kiss on my lips as we walked into the dining room. With our arms joined, as if he was my support. We entered the room to hushed silence.
Despite the fact that Luc was in full control of all of his limbs, when in the company of others he used a cane. The familiar clack of the silver tip on the marble floor was comforting.
I forced my expression into neutral apathy when I noticed that the cane that Luc had chosen was the same one that he had used to whack me to orgasm whilst wearing Samuel Rose's body.
If the Devil wanted a reaction from me, he would have to try harder to get it.
The obsidian dining table was straining under the weight of the gourmet spread. Each dish was succulent and perfectly crafted. It was destined to be largely ignored as every Demon in the room did not need to eat.
The only person that would partake was the leader of the Sixth Circle. Gluttony. Beelzebub.
Although Beelzebub was thin in statue, almost skeletal, his cheeks were stuffed like a hamsters. Full of food, and still cramming more into his gullet, Gluttony largely ignored the others.
Entirely bald, with hands that were out of proportion from his spindly frame, clawed but shovel-like. The only sound Gluttony made were the wheezing splutters as he used his fist to punch more food down his oesophagus.
No one in the room batted an eyelid, used to the nauseous display.
Beelzebub came for the food, and never said a word. Too preoccupied with stuffing his face.
Luc swaggered to the head of the table and sat on his throne with aplomb.
In the past, I would have knelt at his feet like an obedient pet. I was surprised to see that I had been provided a chair, it was the patchwork mismatched sister of Luc’s throne. The same chair that I had sat in the night before when I had been given a choice.
Asmodeus, the Queen of Lust, allowed her eyes to stalk my every move with hunger. Her body was hidden by the writhing mass of souls that clung to her, so in lust that she caused a swarm of them. Through the black, ever pulsating mass, her pink tinged eyes shone.
Even though she was obscured by insects and all manner of winged creature, every curve of her body was visible. A hint and a tantalising promise. The Queen preferred to be called Amore, stating in the past that Asmodeus was too formal.
Luc and I had bedded her, together, on a few occasions. One did not become the Queen of Lust without learning a treasure trove of bedroom tricks.
I coolly surveyed each and every Original that was present. The embodiments of their sins.
It hadn’t always been that way, but being surrounded by a certain flavour of debauchery seemed to change each of the Seven every time I saw them.
“Shall we commence the meeting?” Gor, the King of Sloth's voice rang out through the mind of every person in the room.
Instead of a chair, he sat on an electronic wheelchair despite having no disability. He never opened his mouth to speak. Disinclined against any exertion.
“Belphegor!” Asmodeus chided affectionately, she slapped his knee playfully. The sight was disconcerting, as Gor was slumped as if he was completely paralysed.
“It’s irritating when you refuse to open your mouth. Do we not warrant your energy?” Her plump lips pouted, petulantly like a child.
Beelzebub nodded in agreement with his mouth stuffed full of food and then returned his attention to his plate.
Lucifer rolled his eyes.
A low rumble was the only precursor to the sudden unfurling dragon-like creature that appeared on the other end of the room. It was the King of the Fourth Circle, Envy. Leader of the swarm.
The King of the Leviathan had arrived.
His sea green scales receded and a man stood in the place where the serpentine monster had been. Envy was a dark-haired warrior with eyes the same colour as his scales.
He sashayed over to the table but did not sit. The King of the Leviathan picked up the nearest golden plate and lifted it until it caught the light. He surveyed the fine dinnerware for imperfections. Luc never took it personally. It was a quirk of the Leviathan’s Sin.
“Thank you for joining us, Leviathan,” Luc said stoically as he reached for his wine glass. His voice was fraught enough to cut glass. I could not tell if Luc was holding his rage or if he wanted to mock the King of the Fourth Circle.
“It’s a pleasure to be in your home.” The Leviathan replied with a condescending smirk. His eyes rested on mine and I felt the caress of his power as it skimmed my shoulder. I pushed the strap of my dress back into position without saying a word.
“My, oh my...” the King of the Leviathan dragged his eyes from mine to my master’s in a lazy sweeping motion. “What has your Pet done now? To warrant such a harsh punishment.” The Leviathan gestured to the silver cuffs on my wrists.
“Luc likes his games,” Amore interrupted the intense staring competition between the Devil and the Sea Monster. “Come, Levi, have some of this wine. It’s delectable.”
The Leviathan bowed his head to my master, cordially, and strode toward to Asmodeus. He reached over Amore's shoulder and took her proffered wine goblet. With one slung, he drained the glass, to which Amore laughed.
Luc’s hand gripped my thigh, his intimate touch was hidden from the eye line of the others by the edge of the dining table.
The laughter continued as Asmodeus leant over Gor’s prone form, pushing her cleavage into the unmoving face of the King of Sloth. Her shoulders shook with mirth as she poured a goblet of wine over his slack mouth. Some did enter but much of it sloshed down the front of his filthy t-shirt.
Beelzebub clapped in appreciation of the display, but he did not stop chewing.
Mammon, the King of Avarice Aka Greed, entered as if he hoped to walk in unnoticed. The Demonic equivalent of a magpie.
We all ignored the bulge of his coat. He did not remove the offensive article of clothing, with its pockets stuffed full of stolen items. I wondered which artefact from the archives he had liberated. Mammon was the most feminine, apart from Asmodeus. I had often wondered why he did not choose female form, as all Purebloods had the ability to change shape.
I had never asked.
Mammon's tangerine orange eyes darted around as if he was fearful of being caught stealing. It was a habit. Even in the company of the Sovereign of Sin, Mammon found it hard to relax.
Avarice took his place next to Gluttony. We all pretended not to notice when Mammon stole a chicken leg from Beelzebub’s plate. Although Mammon did not eat; so I could not imagine what he would want with it.
“Where is your second in command, Luc?” Mammon queried but did not maintain eye contact as he surveyed the room for threats with manic energy.
“Abaddon had business to take care of in the First Circle. I am sitting in for both Pride and Treachery.” Lucifer answered smoothly.
Pride and Treachery shared the First Circle although the boundaries of deception started with the iron railings of the Ice Castle.
“Of course,” The King of the Leviathan's eyes glinted as he sipped his wine slowly.
Asmodeus shook her head and tutted. “So hostile, Levi.” She purred.
“Where is Wrath?” Lucifer asked, as he eyed each attendee in the room.
“Ba'el is incapacitated,” Mammon explained. “He has not been seen for many moons,”
“He’s still alive, I’m certain,” Leviathan smirked to himself. “Hell would have collapsed otherwise.”
“Very well. We must continue without him.” Lucifer's fingers drew intricate patterns on the fabric that covered my thigh. It was as if he drew strength from the action and from having me in touching distance.
Every person in the room shifted and directed their full attention to my Master. Luc lifted his hand from my thigh and knitted his fingers together. The Devil surveyed every eye in the room with a slow and measured calculation.
I kept my expression stoic, ever the Ice Queen that stood by his side. A united front. My facial expression and body language held purpose even though I had not a clue what the meeting was about.
“It has come to my attention that a once human, Fourth Circle Daemon openly attacked my Consort on the streets of London,” Luc spoke without inflexion, as if he was talking about the weather.
I jolted in surprise and wondered how Luc knew about that. I quickly reminded myself that Luc was there. Wearing Samuel’s face.
He was the one that had shouted in the once human Leviathan’s face as he extinguished him.
Mine.
Every person in the dining room had the decency to look uncomfortable, apart from the King of Envy who preened like a peacock and then quickly disguised his expression to one of shock and horror.
Gor snarled without moving his mouth. “Fool!”
The only sound after the echoing mental chastisement was the fevered mastication of the King of Gluttony in the corner.
“I am an understanding man,” Luc stood up and sauntered around the table. He circled the other guests like a shark scenting blood in the water. The Devil leant past the King of the Leviathan’s shoulder and plucked his butter knife from the place setting.
Even with Levi's previous bravado, he flinched when Luc got too close.
“I will give you a chance to explain your actions, Levi. For the actions of one Daemon are a reflection on their King, are they not?”
“You wish to punish me for the stupidity of a corrupted human?” Levi asked smoothly.
“No,” Luc clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Before I could blink, the Devil had hooked his foot around the leg of Levi's chair; with the brute force of his muscular thigh, Luc swung the chair around until they were nose to nose. Luc teased Levi's face with the glinting silver butter knife, the threat was dark despite the blade's dull edge.
“I had no part in that.” Levi eyed the blade cautiously.
“And yet, you were proud when I mentioned it.” Lucifer smiled cruelly.
Levi said nothing as Lucifer leant forward and pressed the blunt edge of the blade into the fleshy meat at the tip of the Envy King's nose.
“I am the King of the First Circle, Leviathan.” Luc chided playfully. “I know pride when I see it.”
Lucifer released Levi and pocketed the blade with a flash of silver.
A nervous laugh bubbled from Mammon’s mouth. His orange eyes were wide.
“Kiss arse.” Gluttony grunted at Mammon. “The joke wasn’t that funny.”
It was the first time in over five hundred years that I had heard Beelzebub speak. As quickly as the words were spoken, the King of Gluttony once again began stuffing his face. He had moved onto the dessert section of the table and grabbed a handful of Cherry Bakewell’s with reed-like fingers.
“You all know of the Prophecy,” Levi’s eyes darted from Luc’s to mine and then finally settled on the Queen of Lust. “Asmodeus will walk free. I was preparing London for her.”
Luc cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “By butchering my Consort?”
“By brokering a deal. By creating the new Prime Minister. This council would rule the Human Realities as well as Hell.” His words were rushed, but firm.
“We cannot make deals with daemons,” I whispered, speaking up for the first time since I had entered the room. I forced myself to meet the eyes of every Regent at the table.
“She’s right,” Luc nodded thoughtfully as he tapped his knuckles on the wood. “But you knew that, didn’t you, Levi?”
“Kerning didn't!” Leviathan protested.
Luc rolled his head from side to side, and I knew what was coming. The Devil appeared to be debating the best course of action, but the movement was a guarantee that there would be bloodshed.
For some unknown reason, nausea speared through me, and I forced myself to my feet. I was thankful that I did not stumble as I walked to the door and did not look back.
I told myself that it was because I was tired, but that was a lie. I had had enough of the politics and mind games.
I had barely enough time to walk to my chamber and drop down, face first, onto the bed before I was interrupted by a knock on my door.
Without invitation, my guest strode into the room. Their steps made no sound, and I rolled my head to the side, messing up my tightly woven hair. Bare feet came into my vision, and I found myself face to face with the naked curves of Asmodeus.
The Queen of Lust crawled onto my bed with a deliberate purpose. Every movement made her look like a cat in heat.
She lowered herself down to my side and used her finger to tilt my chin until my gaze met hers.
The writhing mass of souls that was permanently attached to her body tickled the skin of my arms where we touched. I shivered but said nothing.
“My Damian speaks highly of you, Dahlia,” Asmodeus said fondly. Her finger trailed across my lips, but the action was not deliberate. It was as if Asmodeus seduced even when she did not mean to.
“Thank you,” I sat up and broke the skin contact. I focused on my door, worried that Luc would come back at any moment.
“I always knew that you were more than a Pet, little shadow,” Amore whispered, her voice appeared in the shell of my ear. A light caress that caused desire to curl in my stomach against my will. “If you ever find yourself in need of a home, away from your master. Come to me.” Amore's tone grew serious, and it was jarring. We stared at each other until the Queen of Lust heard something that I did not.
She disappeared into thin air, leaving only the lingering scent of her skin. Which smelt almost exactly like Chanel number five.