“My son will not be leaving this world on the same day he entered it,” Elle growled, stepping out from behind me in a voice so furious and full of pain it sent chills through my body. “Give me back my child or you will regret it for the rest of your days. Fate will not be kind to you.”
“Make one move and he dies. The dagger is poison tipped. His oxygen will be cut off for weeks. Even if he survives, he will be nothing more than a vegetable. It will just take the tiniest of pricks to end him,” Wrath snarled. “Funny how fate works out in the end.”
Wrath laughed like the insane Immortal she’d become. The tattoos raced even faster over her skin. The effect was dizzying. She was laughing alone. Amazingly, Luke didn’t make a sound. The baby stared at his crazed sister with a Zen-like expression on his face. I’d spend the rest of my days making it up to him if…
There was no if.
There could be no if.
The other traitors surrounded Wrath, and each held weapons of mass destruction. None of them looked comfortable with what was going on, but Wrath wielded enormous power over her sisters. Today would be their last, no matter what else may transpire.
“Why?” I inquired casually, placing my hand on Elle’s back and giving her a signal to stand down. “Why are you doing this?”
There was a chance that Luke was a True Immortal and couldn’t be killed. But it was a chance I refused to take. Elle’s body shook with rage, and her eyes sparkled such a bright amethyst it was difficult to look at her. My lover’s instinct to destroy the enemy was as potent as my own. However, our instinct to protect what we’d created together was even stronger.
“I am the true heir to Hell,” Wrath spat. “No one shall usurp me. I’m the eldest and therefore it’s mine.”
“Interesting. I don’t choose the heir to Hell and neither do you,” I said.
“Liar,” Wrath growled.
“Correct,” I replied.
“Wait. What? Who decides the heir?” Wrath demanded, confused if I was telling the truth or not.
She grew more insane with each word she spoke. The ink on her skin reacted to her break with reality, covering every inch of her body. She barely looked human. Wrath was a painted image of madness and fury.
“I choose the heir,” Astrid said, stepping forward on the left side of the dais. Her fangs had dropped, and her hair blew around her head. Black glitter covered her arms and chest. She was a fearsome sight to behold.
Next to Astrid stood her mate, Ethan, and her son, Samuel. Behind her stood a slew of other deadly Vampyres. Gemma, the Fairy Queen, and her mate, The Kev, also watched the nightmare unfold before our eyes. The sheer amount of magic in the room could end Wrath a thousand times over, but no power could remove the weapon aimed at my son. Not with it so close to his vulnerable neck.
Wrath’s eyes narrowed with ire. “I don’t like that. The rules shall be changed now with a blood oath. I will decide who the heir of Hell is going to be. Change them or I will end the boy… with great pleasure.”
“Jesus, what the Hell did I do for you to turn out like this?” I hissed.
“I’m sorry, did someone call me?” Jesus asked, walking up to the horrifying scene and gasping with dismay.
“My bad,” I said, not taking my eyes off of my deranged daughter. “I took your name in vain. Won’t happen again.”
“No worries, Uncle Lucifer,” Jesus said kindly as he took his place beside his father.
Why in the Hell couldn’t my kids be as respectful as Jesus?
“Blood oath,” Wrath demanded.
“I’m fine with it,” Astrid said, giving me the side eye and a quick wink.
“Can she do that?” Elle asked under her breath.
“No,” God whispered. “She can’t, but Wrath doesn’t know that.”
Pulling a wicked looking dagger from her stiletto boot, Astrid sliced her hand and let the blood drip to the floor. “Okay, here’s my blood,” she said flatly to Wrath. “What should I do now?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Wrath shrieked. “And who do you think you are to speak to me like that? You are nothing—a Vampyre-Demon hybrid. I am Wrath. I can end you.”
“Mmmkay,” Astrid said calmly, holding her power in check with great effort. “While that’s illuminating, not sure it’s pertinent right now. You’re a million years older than