I’d never in my life worn something so exquisite and fragile and absolutely stunning.
Turning to Azazel, who stood in front of the windows to the balcony outside his bedroom, I raised a brow in question. The look on his face gave me pause.
Eyes shuttered, he came closer, moved around me and worked the buttons on my back. “When we go to his court tonight,” he began, his voice holding a rough edge, “I will have to be…different.”
I frowned, but before I could interject with a question, he continued.
“As will you. The deal we made when Zaquiel came to visit…it still stands.”
I opened my mouth, closed it. Something heavy sank into my bones, chilling me. “I’ll be your pet.” I swallowed, nodded. “Of course.”
His hand paused on the last button. A gentle, tender caress of his finger over my nape, then his touch fell away. A second later, he reached around me with both hands, the sparkling object he was holding drawing my gaze.
In the mirror, I watched as he laid the choker necklace in place. Adorned with rubies and diamonds, the band fit snugly around my throat.
My chest constricted. Funny, wasn’t it, that the first piece of jewelry he gave me was a collar…and not a ring.
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. The churning in my stomach told me whatever it was, though, it didn’t chime with what I got.
Foolish, I berated myself. Don’t be foolish. After all, this was never meant to be real.
Right?
His gaze held storms as I met his eyes in the mirror.
“Let’s play,” I said with a smile.
And because I’d practiced my shielding in the past two weeks, he caught none of the thoughts flitting through my mind, none of the wondering how—despite my better senses—that pain in my heart felt real enough.
We flew over the heavily patrolled border to Lucifer’s territory, the sentries letting us pass only after checking Azazel’s invitation. The same dreary, barren landscape shrouded in everlasting twilight gloom spread out beneath us, lit here and there by random fires. Howls and screeches rang in the air, and every now and then the haunting wails of the tortured souls reached over the rushing of the wind and the other horrifying sounds.
I shivered despite the searing heat of Hell.
Next to us flew Azmodea and Mammon. Azazel’s nephew had casually strolled in at one of our last planning sessions, and when I asked Mammon whether he was joining our little soul heist, he said, “Oh no. I’m not suicidal. I’m just tagging along for the drama.” A rap on the back of his head delivered by a scowling Azmodea had him throw up his hands. “Just kidding, just kidding! Of course I’ll help.”
As we now neared a cluster of lights in the distance, more and more shapes emerged from the semi-darkness around us. Demons, on their way to the festival, like us. I’d never get used to seeing winged humanoid beings just matter-of-factly populating the sky.
We touched down in what appeared to be a courtyard as wide as a football field, flames reflecting off the pristine white stone of the ground and buildings. I glanced down as my feet hit the floor—not a speck of ash on the smooth-as-glass stone. I briefly wondered at what kind of army of servants it must cost to keep the courtyard this clean. A show of wealth, of course. The ruler of Hell sure had to flaunt it.
Azmodea landed next to us and adjusted the glittery monstrosity of a dress she was wearing. An enormous petticoat flared the skirt out to a distance that would make it hard for anyone to even shake her hand, reminiscent of the fashion extremes of centuries past. Layers and layers of ruffled fabric bunched along and over the buffed-up skirt, glinting and sparkling pink in the light of the torches. The bodice was as tight as the skirt was loose, no doubt cinched with a corset around her waist. Embroidery adorned the fabric above the skirt, with sequins catching the firelight much as the glitter below did.
Not for the first time, I wondered if she wore this fashion abomination in the attempt to get a rise out of Lucifer. Or at least cause him eye strain. I know I couldn’t look at her for more than five seconds without getting a headache.
When I asked her why in Hell she’d chosen this dress, she just smiled and winked.