Demon King (Claimed By Lucifer #1) - Elizabeth Briggs Page 0,38
settled over me and I let out a long breath, then rested a hand on Azazel’s shoulder. “Thank you for protecting her. I knew you wouldn’t fail me. Gargoyles, was it?”
She bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. “They were trying to kidnap Hannah.”
My fists clenched at my side and filled with hellfire, waiting to be unleashed. First imps, then shifters, and now gargoyles. Were all my demons turning against me? And why attack now? They must have known we were going to be away rescuing Hannah’s friend. Another betrayal against me.
“There’s something you should see,” Azazel said.
She led me into the library, where the gargoyles’ bodies had dropped in a circle. The clean-up crew was still working here, and they all gave me a low bow before continuing their work. Even though much of the carnage was gone, I spotted some heads removed from their bodies, and there were many more attackers than even Azazel could face.
I arched an eyebrow at her. “You did all this?”
“No, I had help. From Hannah.” Azazel crossed her arms and cocked her head at me. “She used Morningstar.”
I glanced over at the spot on the wall where the sword usually hung, but it was missing. Then I saw it resting on my desk, beside its jewel-encrusted sheath. I picked it up and examined the sword I’d wielded back when I was an Archangel in Heaven, now covered in traces of gargoyle blood and stone but still glowing with the white light of the angels. I’d clean it later, after I checked on my mate.
“Impressive,” I said, as I set the sword back down. “She must be remembering, finally.”
I left Azazel in the library and stalked to my room. The door wasn’t quite closed, and I opened it silently. Hannah was passed out on the bed, curled up in a ball, clutching my pillow tightly to her chest. She’d fallen asleep tense, based on the way her brows were furrowed together, and at some point she’d thrown the sheets off herself and pushed them into a heap on the empty side of the bed.
My rage quieted, turning into a strong relief to see her alive. When I’d arrived and found the evidence of an attack, I’d feared the worst. Though Hannah’s eventual death would be inevitable, I wanted to spend more time with her first.
For a few seconds I simply stared at her, watching her breathe. She wore another of those slinky little nightgowns we’d bought yesterday, and it showed off every curve of her body. Her golden hair draped down her shoulders, and one of her hands was reaching out, like it was searching for me. Intense longing to claim her ran through me, but I pushed it down, back into its dark depths.
I sat gingerly beside her and rested my hand on her shoulder, needing to feel her soft skin, to confirm she was alive. I didn’t intend on waking her, but the moment I touched her, her eyes popped open and she sat straight up, like she was ready to bolt.
Tension left her the second she saw me. “Lucifer?”
I kept my hand on her shoulder, hoping to keep her calm. “It’s okay. I’m here. Brandy’s safe.”
Hannah surprised me by throwing her arms around me and letting out what sounded like a relieved sob. “She’s okay? Really?”
I held her close against me, savoring the feel of her in my arms once more. Where she belonged. “Of course she is. I promised, didn’t I?”
“Thank you.” She slowly sat back and wiped tears from her eyes. “Where is she?”
“She’s in a suite here at the hotel, with a human doctor tending to her, along with plenty of food and plenty of armed bodyguards. I’m having some clothes brought up for her too, and I sent someone to let her family know she’s all right.”
“You did all that?” Hannah asked, tilting her head as she studied me.
“It’s the least I could do. She was kidnapped from my hotel, after all.”
“Can I see her?”
I shook my head. “Your friend has been through a traumatic experience and is exhausted. Right now she needs sleep more than anything.” Her shoulders slumped in disappointment and I quickly added, “However, I booked you both a spa day tomorrow. A slothful day, if you will.”
“A spa day sounds good.” Her eyes focused on my white shirt, and she reached out to touch a spot on it, her palms resting against my chest. “Are you bleeding?”