Hell's Bells: Lucifer's Tale (Welcome to Hell Book 6) (8 page)

C
rack
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Gaia couldn’t stop her hand. No sooner had those inappropriate words left Luc’s mouth—a mouth that had just acted much too dirty to say such a sappy thing—when she slapped him. And she wasn’t gentle about it.

Frustrated much?

“What was that for?” he exclaimed, cupping the offended spot with his hand.

“You know why,” she growled as she climbed off his shoulders. Big, broad shoulders that made a great spot to sit on while he did decadent things with his tongue. A tongue that then turned around and ruined a great orgasm.

For a moment, confusion reigned in his expression, then enlightenment dawned. “You’re mad because I disrespected you and took advantage of you sexually before the wedding.”

The warped reasoning spewing from him had her blinking. “Say what? Why would I be mad about that? I asked you to eat me.” Totally worth it, by the way.

Once again, his brow furrowed. “I don’t think I understand. On the one hand, you’re saying it was what you wanted, but now you seem mad that I did.”

“I’m not mad about you licking me to nirvana. Your technique is, as always, excellent. No, I’m mad that you ruined a fabulous orgasm by saying what you did after.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

He didn’t have the same problem. “I love you?”

Screech. To her, coming from his mouth, it sounded as if someone had taken sharp claws to the surface of her heart.

It also hurt. While it was childish, she couldn’t help but clap her hands over her ears. “Argh. Don’t say that. Stop it. I can’t take it. This isn’t you. The real you isn’t nice. Or polite. The real you doesn’t just give me an orgasm. He insists I give him one in return, maybe two. He talks dirty to me. He squashes me in bed, claiming there’s not enough room just so he can pretend he’s not snuggling. My Luc doesn’t tell me he loves me. He doesn’t have to. He shows it in the stupidest, most meaningful ways. That Luc is the real one, the one that I love. And, unfortunately, that’s no longer you.”

Tears burned in her eyes, tears she tried to blink away. A single one rolled free, trekking an anguished path down her cheek. It hovered for a second on the edge of her jaw before falling—and somewhere in the world, a deluge flooded the earth, the pain of her broken heart pushed onto the mortal plane.

Tonight, a part of the world joins me in crying.

More tears rolled, eager to cause their own natural disaster.

“Don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry.” The fire in Luc’s eyes proved at odds with the gentle compassion in his expression.

He should have yelled at her and told her to stop the waterworks. Luc should have promised to kill anything that was bothering her, plus their relatives. The funny thing she never told him was she thought him very gallant with his murderous offers.

This Lucifer reached out to touch her damp cheeks, to caress.

She flinched away. “Don’t. Just don’t. Stop all this kind and caring stuff. I can’t handle it. I can’t handle you.” At least not at this moment with her emotions so raw.

The connection she achieved with Luc at the height of her pleasure, even if one-sided, always tore through the shields she used to protect herself.

I am mentally naked before you and unable to hide my fear that my Luc will ever come back.
Would her dark lover be forever trapped? Was she doomed to only rare glimpses?

At his hang-demon expression, she whirled around.
I need space.
She stalked off, angry and—

Slam.

The sudden force of the grab propelled her until her back hit the wall. Familiar blazing eyes bored into hers. “Don’t you dare walk away from me, wench.”

Her mouth rounded into an O of surprise. How long since he’d used his term of endearment for her? Had he finally snapped free? “Lucifer? Is that really you?”

“I—” His face contorted. “Fuck off.” He angled his head back as his eyes closed. The cords in his neck stood taut as he shook his head. “No. No. Stop it.” Hands rose to cup his cranium. Still, he thrashed, a man possessed. Lucifer fought the imposter beating in his chest.

“Lucifer. Lucifer.” She murmured his name as she tried to grab hold of him. Tried to offer him some sense of stability. But he danced out of reach and kept moaning, uttering the most nonsensical things.

“Stay back, you damned duckie. You will not have my mind.”

“I will own it.” Also spoken by Lucifer in a darker tone.

“Get back in your cage.”

“Make me.”

“How about I hug you?”

“Fuck off!”

He stumbled into the wall, having an argument with himself.

Remorse hit her. How hard and scary this split of personalities must be for her lover. Not that he’d ever admit it. Lucifer was arrogant like that.

But she wasn’t too arrogant or unfeeling. As he huddled against the wall, she managed to trap him in her arms. “It’s okay, Luc.”

“No, it’s not. You want to leave.” He shivered, his imposter side in control again.

But for how long? The other half of Lucifer seemed to be gaining in strength. He resurfaced more and more often.

“I’m not leaving,” she reassured him. Much as the situation frustrated her, she couldn’t, and for several reasons. One reason could be summed up simply; ’til death do them part, in sickness and in health, part of their planned wedding vows. The traditional nature of it, spoken by the devil no less, was considered the height of blasphemy. Or so Lucifer convinced himself when she’d argued for something more formal than, “The wench is mine. Suck it, loser.”

Tomorrow, she would say the words that bound them together. Forever. It didn’t matter if they hadn’t spoken the oath yet. She loved Lucifer enough to want to say them. In sickness and in health. She should live by them.

She had to treat his mental state as an illness. In that vein, she needed to find a cure. But she couldn’t find a cure with him peering at her with sexy demon eyes.

“Let’s go to bed,” she suggested as she grabbed his hand. When he hesitated at her tug, she added, “Fully dressed.” Since she was already nude, it was a simple matter to lift her arms and snap her fingers so that a gown would drift down over her in a cloudlike billow of fabric. Neck to toe. That should make him feel safe.

For him, she snapped her fingers and dressed him in flannel. Flannel covered in penguins sporting scarves. Shudder.

She clasped his hand between hers. “Let me sleep with you tonight, Luc. I just want you to hold me. I want to feel close to you. Please.”

That word had him moving, following as if on a leash, letting her take him through various twists and turns to his large bedroom.

As they crawled into bed, she held in a sigh, mostly because Lucifer said, “I promise not to take advantage of you.”

He’s a sick man. Remind yourself of that when you feel an urge to slap him.

She should also make a list of all these times he said no to sex for when she mocked him later—if he got better.

He will get better.

True to his word, Lucifer spooned Gaia, kind of, but in a way that didn’t touch her. At least an inch separated their bodies, a chaperone made of cushiony air.

Good because it meant, once he dropped off into a sound sleep—a sleep she enhanced with a bit of sleeping dust, a special blend only possible with fresh ingredients from her garden—she could leave.

She had business to attend to.

Wedding business. Lucifer needed a present, and she knew just what she wanted for him.

L
ucifer awoke
to a jangle of metal. Odd, because he’d cleared all the weapons and chains—of which he found many, some attached to the bedposts—from the room.

He pried open an eye then two. Both eyes staring, though, didn’t change what he saw. “Morning, um…” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, given all the blood in his body seemed to have pooled in one place. In his defense, he had good reason.

Gaia looked stupendous. A short green skirt showed off her long legs. Her utility belt cinched tight at her waist, making the curve of her hips more pronounced.

A pity about the armor hiding her beautiful tits.

A shame, indeed, along with the fact that she currently covered her lovely bare arms in polished green bracers. She paused and peered at him.

“You woke up earlier than expected.” She finished off the last buckle and clicked her fingers. A strap appeared in her hand with a small dagger snapped to it. She buckled it to her thigh.

“What are you doing?” he asked Gaia.

“I’d say that was rather obvious. I am getting suited up.”

She’s avoiding the real answer.

He didn’t need his inner voice to recognize that. “Getting suited up for what? You’re in battle gear.”

“Of course I am. It’s generally what one wears when going to fight.”

“Fight who?”

Yeah who? I wanna go play too.

“Hell is at war.”

What! “When did that happen?”

“Early this morning,” Gaia informed him. “Rather abruptly too.” Her lips curved into a smile as she pulled on thick green gardening gloves tipped with sharp metal points.

And this conversation was taking too long. “Hell went to war this morning? But how? I was sleeping.” Didn’t Hell going to war need some kind of approval by him?

I decide who will have the honor of being defeated by me!

The roll of Gaia’s shoulder held an insouciance that made his inner voice scream,
Spank the naughty wench. She is totally asking for it with her saucy dancing around of your questions.

He refrained.

“I declared war,” she said with quite a bit of sinful pride.

That’s my wench. We should totally spank her now for being a good girl. She’s hot when she’s bloodthirsty.

He quashed his inner voice. “You did what?”

In the midst of smearing green lines under her eyes and down her forehead in elaborate Celtic warrior whorls and lines, she tossed him a look over her armor-padded shoulder. “What else could I do? I could not let the insult go unpunished.”

“What fucking insult?” The expletive blasted out of him, but he didn’t apologize for it.

“Ursula has your heart. I sent that three-titted seawitch a decree demanding she hand it back. She refused. Disrespect is not to be tolerated, your very own words. And I don’t like her. So I declared war.” Spoken with more than a little glee.

“But you can’t do that,” he sputtered.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not the leader of Hell for one.”

“That minor technicality didn’t seem to bother Ursula or your minions. They are getting ready for battle as we speak.”

“I don’t approve.”

“Don’t you?” As she strapped her machetes to her belt, the blades sharp enough to split the finest grass, she strutted to him, a green goddess in warrior gear with her Roman sandals spiraling up her legs in metal bands also meant to deflect blows. Her features stood out in stark contrast as she’d pulled her hair taut into battle braids woven with green vine.

She came to a stop before him, and the scent of her enveloped him—apples, cinnamon, and impending violence. “Tell me you’re not excited by the idea of confronting Ursula on the beach. Tell me you don’t want revenge for what she’s done.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

If he disagreed, he lied. God, his brother, help him. She knew his inner darkness too well. He did feel a rush at the thought of a battle.

Kill the fucking sea hag.

Giving in to his bloodthirsty side would give it power. He had to stay in control. Had to remain focused on the important things. “We can’t go to war today. We have a wedding happening tomorrow. So many tiny items need my attention.”

Her look of disgust went well with the voice inside his head that muttered,
You fucking moron. She declared this war for you. For us.

“Is this your way of saying you don’t want to come?” Surely that wasn’t a sly look in her eye?

Tell her we’re coming. Grab our biggest fucking sword, throw on our Vader cape, and let’s go kick some sea monster ass.

Instead, Lucifer said, “I cannot condone this violence. But since it’s already done, I guess I can’t stop it. Since you insist on pursuing this foolish notion that Ursula has somehow changed me, then you may take my army with you to keep you safe.”

“I may?” She arched a brow, which, given her savage maquillage, proved somewhat menacing—and arousing.

The scent of her passion still clung to his skin. The memory of her cries, the feel of her against his tongue, possessed the ability to arouse. Tease. Tempt…

A good thing she had other plans and left. He might have been tempted to ravish her. As it was, he couldn’t resist staring at the swish of her ass as she strode through the arch leading to the outside hall.

Go with her, you idiot. She needs us by her side to fight.

Fight? Fight a war she induced? A fight that could harm him—or harm her.

If anyone lays a single claw or tentacle on her…

They would regret it, which he could only ensure happened if he was by her side.

Lucifer called out. “I’m coming with you.”

The declaration halted her exit from his room. She did a complete U-turn and walked back in. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m coming with you.” Because cowardice was a sin, and letting Gaia march off alone just seemed plain wrong, even if he knew he’d encounter violence accompanying her.

What he didn’t expect was for the violence to start at home.

Placing two fingers in her mouth, Gaia blew, and instead of the expected strident whistle, an ululating bird sound emerged. Boots clacked, a mini army of them, and snapped to a halt just outside his door.

A single figure entered dressed in black leather, so supple it didn’t creak and yet ridiculously tough given it came from a dragon. The shit-kicking boots shone mirror-bright with a gleam attained by hours of spit polish, probably the task of a shoe shining imp. The almost impenetrable pants molded thick thighs sporting muscles formed over the course of years of training. A metal doublet of the darkest chromium rings fitted across wide shoulders. The face was covered by a helm intricately carved, the nose piece inset with runes while, from the back, a flame-colored plume dipped and wavered, even without a breeze, the magic within the feather charged and ready for battle.

Remy looked ready for war, and he knew it judging by his cocky smile.

He banged a gloved hand on his chest. “Reporting as requested, Mother General.”

Mother General?
The voice in his head went into paroxysms of laughter.

“Who’s with you?”

“In the hall are Dante’s group, Mother General.”

“And the Dark Lord’s other privileged minions, where are they?”

“They’ve gathered in the outer courtyard and await your orders, as does the grand sorceress in the barracks.”

Gaia tucked her hands behind her back. “The army of darkness is ready to fight.”

“They are ready to win, Mother General.”

During this, Lucifer remained quiet, mostly because he didn’t want to draw attention to his night wear. The flannel pajamas he’d gone to bed with the previous eve had suffered a transformation overnight.

Do you like it?

The nice penguins had become red-eyed, fanged versions with curled horns. Very vicious looking.

Exactly.

“Lucifer wants to come with us,” she told Remy.

At his name, Lucifer beamed. How happy the fire demon would be to know they would go to the beach together and fight, side by side.

“What do you mean he wants to come?” Remy grimaced. “His coming wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I know,” she muttered. “It took me by surprise, especially given how he reacted on Dante’s ride.”

“Excuse me,” Lucifer said, ignoring his demonic penguins as he scrambled out of the bed finally.

Gaia cringed. “Would you stop it with the manners already?”

“What plan are you talking about?” He peered at Gaia then Remy, who both did their best to look innocent. And failed.

What did they hide?

Wait for it. Wait for it. Come on. You know the answer.

His jaw dropped. “You totally expected me to stay behind and avoid the fight.”

Gaia shrugged. “Yes, I did. And I still do. You don’t like icky things like blood and guts. Why would you want to drop wedding planning for a down-and-dirty, beachside brawl?”

The horned duckie in his head practically bounced.
Wanna go. Wanna go. Wannnnnnna goooooo.

It shouldn’t have sounded appealing. It shouldn’t have pricked his pride. But it did.

“I’m going.” He puffed out his chest. Gaia wasn’t the only one who could play heroic.

“No, you’re not. It’s too dangerous for you. But don’t worry, sugar cakes.” She patted Lucifer’s cheeks. “Once I’m done handing Ursula her ass, I’ll come back and fix you.”

Fix us?

He should totally put her over his knee for that remark. Wait. That thought hadn’t come from his other side. Stay in control. Starting with his fiancée. “I am coming, and you can’t stop me!”

Actually, she could. She blew some kind of powder in his face that rendered him somewhat lethargic but not completely impotent. It took a dozen of his minions to tether him to the bed with the chains she claimed to have, “
Found in the garbage and thought I’d bring them back up.”

Straining at his tethers, he found it hard to not let irritation color his tone.

“Let me go, Gaia.”

“What, no mushy nickname?” She smirked. “Maybe even if I can’t get your heart back, there’s hope for you yet. In the meantime, I am going to save you and save Hell. The glory shall be mine. See you later,
baby.
” She crooned the word and winked.

She did not just call us an infant.

On the mortal side, it was a term of endearment.

She knows I hate that word. I. Am. A. Man. I deserve manly names.

Except Gaia didn’t currently see Lucifer as a man.
She thinks I’m weak.
She wanted to keep him safe and save Hell.

They all did.

A part of him struggled to convince himself that this just showed their depth of caring, but deep down, real deep, he knew the real reason they tied him down.

Because I am too great.

You are?

They know that in battle I will outshine them all. With my mighty sword, I will smite the most enemies. If I was on the battlefield, I would be the hero. The one soaked in the most blood and glory.

Maybe. He’d never know for sure since Lucifer kind of found himself shackled to a bed.

Are you really going to let chains stop us?

Uh, yeah.

Wrong answer. Have you forgotten who we are? Who I am?

Lucifer. Former inhabitant of Heaven until he’d left that boring plane to his brother. He was the devil, the Lord of all Sins.

What about the Lord who was taking a sabbatical to plan for a wedding while, at the same time, hoping to turn over a new leaf?

Bang
.
Bang
.

Lucifer caught himself before the third head smack against the headboard.

Ouch. Stop that.

Stuff a pair of dirty panties in it and repeat after me.

“What if I don’t want to?” Ignore the fact that Lucifer spoke aloud to the voice in his head, the voice that shouldn’t exist.

Are you really going to test me? You won’t like it.

The voice proved right again. He didn’t. His mouth moved, and not by his volition. It spoke, in a dark and terrible voice.
“I.
Am. Lucifer. Lord of Hell. Eater of souls. The king of retribution. Chains mean nothing to me.”

Snap.