Genesis Queen (The Road to Hell Series) (14 page)

His adopted parent glanced in Petra’s direction. Nix didn’t like his sister, but he issued no request for her to leave. He shut the door. “Who gets the guitar?”

“You can. I’ll take the drums.” He shrugged. Either was good with him, he just enjoyed spending time with the older man. “You’re better at the guitar.”

His hero’s long-legged stride had him beside Amos in seconds. He strapped the instrument on as Amos changed out the games on the Xbox.

Sitting on the arm of the chair, the Sherlock pretended to throw out some head-banging rock chords. He laughed. Daddy Nix knew how to have fun. Another reason why he liked him.

“Take turns singing like always, sport?”

“You bet.” Amos got situated on the sofa. He pulled the drum set closer, adjusted the foot pedals, and twirled the drumsticks in his hands.

“Show off.” His newest father figure winked at him.

He grinned. “Wait until you see my drummer skills. You’ll be jealous.”

“No one likes a braggart, sport. Let your skills do the talking.” Nix took a deep breath and bowed out his chest. “Hell’s not left me rusty.”

They went head-to-head in the instrumental challenge and for a while Amos forgot the scent of blood in his nostrils.

***

The racket coming from Amos’s bedroom drew Madison’s curiosity. What she found was priceless. Warmed her heart and put a smile on her face.

Her son’s entire body jerked and moved as he beat on the drums. Standing, Nix plucked the guitar in head-banging style. And he was no head-banger, but rather a country-type man. Both of them were singing at the top of their lungs. No hope of carrying a tune. It was a wonder the Hellhounds weren’t howling.

She could not imagine seeing Micah letting loose and being this carefree. This tomfoolery was why she should pick Nix as her mate. Why she needed him in her life. He kept her humanity grounded.

But not the hunger at bay
. A scary truth, and her succubus would be negligent if she failed to remind her often.

“They’re killing me, Madison.” Curled up on her stomach on the mattress, Petra peeked out from a pillow crammed over her head. “For the love of evil, make them stop.”

The music came to a halt. Her lover spun around and her child looked over his shoulder.

“We making too much noise, Momma?”

“No, angel.” No way Nix realized how sexy she found him when he gave her son his time.

“Want to join us, baby?” Her Sherlock swiped his palm through his messy hair. “We’ll let you sing. Or you can have my guitar and I’ll sing.”

“Madison, if you have any pity for me, you
will
spare my ears.”

She shot Petra a shut-up glare. “I—I didn’t wish to spoil your fun.”

“Come on, Momma.”

“Hang on, Amos.” In his unique swagger, Nix came to her, swinging the guitar around to rest against his back. She stared at his lips. They’d been all over her body less than twelve hours ago. His finger touched her chin and tilted her head back to meet his green gaze. “Play with us like a family, baby.”

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you’re goofing off with my son?” The filter from her brain to her mouth needed some serious work because she hadn’t intended to say that. Whispering so only Nix could hear, she said, “The things I think about doing to you aren’t appropriate for family play.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened. “You say the damnedest things at the damnedest times, Mads.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s part of why I love you.” His palm shifted down her neck. Petra cleared her throat, a subtle reminder they were in mixed company. Nix winced and dropped his hand by his side, making it obvious he was unaccustomed to checking his behavior. “I enjoy spending time with Amos. I always have. Join us.”

Why not? She needed a timeout from life.

Madison enlisted in their game. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard or so much. Had she ever? Not even as a child could she recall being happy…except when Micah visited. Married, they’d laughed often, as well.

Belting out the lyrics, she watched Nix watch her, his guitar score suffering. He went into the red. With a saucy grin, she danced boldly just for him, sometimes fast, sometimes languidly…depending on the beat. Thrilled by the way his gaze moved over her, she realized the Sherlock who’d stolen her heart might be the answer to saving all their souls.

Chapter Fourteen

Had Nix’s pupils flared just a little? Not a smolder type of flare either, but a true glow like one of Hell’s denizens. He executed an abrupt wiggle. Had a physical reaction spawned from all her dancing? Teasing him could lead to other things later. She hoped. How long would he last before he reacted to her provocation?

With a quick yank of his arm, the guitar strap came off his shoulder and over his head. With jagged movements, he set the instrument on the floor.

“Be right back.” He grabbed her wrist and yanked her across the room.

And I have my answer
.

Petra laughed, a prissy, knowing resonance. “Weak mortal,” she muttered.

Outside in the hall, he kicked the bedroom door shut and shoved her against the wood. No one would exit the room without them knowing. He slammed his palms on either side of her head.

They weren’t alone and she thought it wise to tell him. “Nix—”

He kissed her into silence. A raging inferno ignited low in her body…but they weren’t alone. She laid her hand on his chest to push him away. Before she could, his fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her head back to deepen the kiss.

Such intensity sparked a desire for ravishment. The things he could do to her in that mindset…all thought of protest evaporated. Digging her fingers in his hair, she melted against him. She lowered her other hand and slithered a finger down his chest to wisp back and forth along his belt.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mads. Don’t dance like that.” He groaned against her mouth. “It makes me want to put my mouth in hidden, moist places on your body.”

Dear God
. Vivid words induced a very dramatic response between her thighs. “Mmm…sounds like wicked fun.”

“My tongue is killer.”

Mads laughed.
Amen to that
.

“I can turn that laughter into moans. Promise.”

She wished. “Kur is just down the hall shielding or…something.”

Nix glanced over his shoulder. Muscles tensing against her, he eased away, holding a hand to her collarbone. As if she planned to make a run for it or needed protection from the dragon. Even though his protective instincts irritated her on occasion, she adored him because of them.

“Show yourself, dragon.” Displeased by the interruption, a frazzled tone edged his command.

The dragon emerged, a gossamer haze at first that sparkled into the solid form of a man. Good to know he could skulk about invisibly.

Kur hooked his thumb in the belt loop of his jeans. “Frankly, I’m more interested in what Madison can do with her tongue rather than you.”

His eyes narrowing on Kur, Nix’s hold tightened on her shoulder.

“He’s baiting you.” She snagged his attention by running her finger along his jaw. “If you’re lucky”—Madison pulled him down to nip his ear—“I’ll lick you all over later.”

He stared at her mouth when he leaned back. The control he gave her was empowering and the biggest turn-on ever.

She felt the prickle of Zen’s teleport. “They at this again?”

“So it would seem,” came Kur’s dry retort.

Madison shifted her attention to her trusted advisor. She had a bone to pick with him. Stepping away from the door, she walked to Zen and smacked him across the cheek.

“Mads!” Nix sounded surprised by her violence.

“Stay.” Zen grabbed her and she heard Nix draw up short behind her at her friend’s abrupt command. One of his hands pinched into her upper arm, the other dug into the back of her neck, his gaze honed to a cutting edge on her face.

“Don’t come any closer, Phoenix,” Zen warned, his silver eyes glowing with restrained magic.

The imprint of her hand on his face satisfied her.

“Explain your violence, Madison,” he demanded, his tone icier than cubes chiseled from the arctic ice.

“You should start by explaining why you neglected to tell me the dragons are yours and Micah’s creation.”

A hiss of surprise from Nix. “Fuck me.”

Zen tossed a cutting glance in the dragon’s direction.

Not a flinch from Kur over her friend’s toxic glare. “She had a right to know. Didn’t figure you’d planned to enlighten her.”

Her son peeked out his door. “Momma?”

The immortal caught sight of Amos. “We’ll take this conversation to the study.”

“No.” Zen went bowstring taut with her flat-out refusal. “Amos has a right to hear this, to discover why you would send me into Hell to save Nix with a gaggle of dragons at my command? All of which were created by you and Micah, but loyal only to my fallen husband. Why wouldn’t you tell me something of that magnitude?”

“I object to the word gaggle.” Kur drew to his full height, a tic setting off in his jaw. “We’re fearsome creatures, not geese.”

“I sought to protect you with their aid.” Her friend finally released her, slowly, as if he expected further retaliation from her. “Their birth mattered not.”

“You knew they were loyal to Micah.” How could that ever have turned out well?

“So long as you wear their Scroll of Cursed Souls, they are loyal to you. Solely you. Granting you a leg up against your husband.”

“You cannot possibly know that with one hundred percent certainty.”

A twisted grin. “I do know that with one hundred percent certainty. I created those Scrolls. I trapped those dragons until I could figure out a way to lure them away from him. You were the answer.”

“And if I go rogue, Micah’s claim on the dragons will come through me.”

“Rogue isn’t in your future.” The immortal glanced pointedly at Nix. “You have Phoenix to keep you honest.”

“If that’s even possible.”

“Agreed.” Kur drew nearer.

“I did what I thought best for you, for the world.”

Madison got in Zen’s face. “Micah always did what was best for me, too.”

He winced.

“And that statement, coupled with your belief that you
always
know what’s best…I’m beginning to doubt who I can trust.”

Ouch
. Her demon cringed.
But he earned that bitter honesty
.

***

Phoenix slumped in one of the lawn chairs next to Micah. “What do you want, Beliel?”

The Ark was in a pissy mood, if his tone was any indication.

What the King wanted was obvious.
My family
. Right now he’d settle for their safety any way he could get it. “I can smell my wife on you.”

“Of course you can. She gave herself to me.”

Trying to goad me
.
Amusing mortal
. “She cannot give herself to you when she remains mine.”

“Dream on, demon king.”

“I’m not talking about sex, Phoenix.” He pinned his hair behind an ear. “While the idea of you being inside my woman….” He shook his head. That was an argument best saved for later. “I’m referring to any commitments she made to you.”

That got Phoenix’s attention. He went back to taking in the hilly landscape, but was satisfied he’d snagged the Ark’s consideration. He stretched his legs out and crossed his feet at the ankles.

“Fuck you and your commitments. She’s not wearing your ring.”

“Neither is she wearing yours.” A lazy smile stretched his lips. “But she wears my covenant, one that precedes any pledge she offered you.”

Phoenix winced. “You’re a bastard.”

“Wrong. Father never could abide a bastard.”

“Get to the point or I walk back inside the home she has locked
you
out of. Not me.”

Touché
. Nettling the Ark had always been entertaining. Fucking him even more pleasurable. “We need to chat, lover to lover.”

“We’re no longer lovers. Never will be again.”

“To be determined.”

“I repeat: get to the fucking point, Micah.”

Beliel tossed him Madison’s Azura stones. “I tried to use them for her, but all I get is one word.” Phoenix looked at him, heavy grooves slashing between his eyes with a frown. “Betrayal.”

“Amos drew a photo of the one that’s coming for them. He’s wearing wings.”

Wings implied angels, and if his brothers dared to come after what was his, he would rip their wings from their body and burn them in his hellish fire. Voice gruff with promised death, he said, “I want to see this drawing.”

The Ark nodded as he placed the prophetic stones in his lap. “Georgie’s visions are of blood and agony. Madison’s suffering, to be precise.”

Micah leapt to his feet and paced.
Goddamn it all to Hell
! He was a fucking King of Hell. His magic helped keep the fiery locale afloat, and he’d amassed immeasurable power since his Fall. He should be able to protect his wife and son with ease.

“Madison and Amos would be safest at home in Hell.” Where nothing could get to them. Not even fucking angels who had titanium for balls.

“You know she’ll never go for that.” Phoenix scratched his jaw. The scruff sounded like sandpaper against his nails. “Zen wouldn’t allow it either.”

“He is most likely the betrayer.”

Phoenix rolled his eyes. “You hate the immortal. You’d construct discord between them for spite alone.”

“Not while her life is at stake.”

“Right.” Clearly the Ark disbelieved him. “And there is the little problem of he
doesn’t
have wings.”

“You know me better than that, Phoenix.” He stopped pacing. “Those two are all who matter to me. You are the only person I trust in this home. As for Zennyo Ryuo’s nonexistent wings, they could be a metaphor for a divine presence if Father demanded he kill them.”

Phoenix angled his head as if he considered the validity of Micah’s statement. At least he didn’t discredit his assertion outright.