If nothing else, at least he was dealing with a coherent Lucifer. Sometimes he wasn’t like this — he turned into more of a beast, one that couldn’t be reasoned with. One that only wanted to destroy anything that came into his path. That was when Lucifer insisted on being called Satan.
Total split personality.
“I know you’ve been working with Asmodeus,” Lucifer said evenly. “He hired you to destroy me so he could take my throne.”
Huh? That was surprising. Darrak had seen Asmo briefly last year, but it hadn’t been a meeting of conspiracy. Asmo, being the Lord of Lust, had needed some input from an ex-incubus about his own growing harem of human souls. Darrak happened to be an expert on the subject.
That was all it was.
Where had Lucifer gotten this information?
“The thing is,” Lucifer said, “I will get to Asmodeus before he comes close to destroying me. But I won’t destroy him completely. I’m going to make him suffer for his sins.”
Terrific. The Prince of Hell lecturing a demon about sinning. Something seemed wrong about that.
“As for you—” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “What shall I do with you?”
“Shall I return you to your incubus self?” he mused. “Or should your punishment be a bit more severe than a slap on the wrist?”
Darrak waited to be decimated. It couldn’t hurt any more than three months of torture had. He hoped. He’d been totally faking it when he said he’d enjoyed it.
Torture was not enjoyable, even for a demon.
Lucifer smiled. “I think I have it. There was a time that I went against the rules set forth for me and I was cast out of Heaven. Have you heard that story?”
Many times. Yawn.
“For my beliefs, for my so-called pride and untrustworthiness, I was evicted from the only home I’d ever known. The protection and love of Heaven was no longer mine.” His voice twisted with pain, and Darrak could have sworn there was a shine of tears in his black eyes. “Being here, created by me, you have been under my protection for all these centuries. This is something that you’ve obviously taken for granted. You’ve attempted to use my trust in you against me. Believe me when I say this, Darrakayiis, it will not happen again.” He was quiet for a thoughtful moment. “So that is how it shall be — my decision is made. I wish you luck. You will need it.”
Darrak’s mouth appeared again, and he gasped as a light breeze touched his leathery skin, the flames that coated him extinguishing for a moment before they lit again as bright and hot as before. He looked down at himself, expecting to see a change, but saw nothing different.
He looked up at the throne, but Lucifer had already disappeared.
Whatever that meant.
Maybe this was a test to see how Darrak would react. To see if he’d sell out Theo at the first opportunity to divert attention from himself. Lucifer was wrong, after all. Asmodeus hadn’t conspired with Darrak to destroy Lucifer.
Uh, that had been Theo.
Asmo was in big trouble. That demon lord wasn’t the smartest one in Hell — usually he ignored Hell’s politics in favor of being preoccupied by his dens of lust and building his harem to be bigger than Lucifer’s. It was his hobby. Asmo would never see it coming.
Oh well, not Darrak’s problem.
He stood from his position on his knees and stretched. He felt fine. Better than fine, really. There was nothing like three months of torture to give you a new lease onThere was a sudden twinge in his chest. Then his left horn began to tingle. What was that?
He looked around the dark room. Could he hear. . chanting?
Yes, chanting. A woman’s voice. Latin words. Familiar, somehow.
It was a — he listened closely before his eyes widened in recognition. It was a summoning ritual. And it wasn’t originating from Hell itself.
But how could he—?
He gasped as he was suddenly pulled upward through Hell’s core, through the gates, up through the vast expanse of nothingness, and into the human world. It felt as if he’d been crushed by a huge hand and then mashed down into the soft ground and grass and. . he blinked. . were those daisies?
He was crouched in the center of a circle of salt.
Looking up, he saw a beautiful dark-haired woman staring at him, her hand held to her mouth in surprise.
“But you are a. .” She inhaled sharply. “An
Archdemons didn’t get summoned. They
He really didn’t have time for this.
He bared his razor-sharp teeth at her, and she cowered away from him.
“Let me out of this circle, woman,” he snarled.
It took only a moment for the fear to leave her expression. He couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. And she knew it.
Her lips began to move again. Another spell, but he wasn’t sure what it was. When she was finished, she took a deep breath.
“Tell me your true name, demon,” she said with command in her voice.
“Darrakayiis,” he replied without hesitation, but then fury rippled through him. How did she make him say it aloud? Giving her his true name gave her near-absolute power over him.
It had to be a spell.
“You’re a witch,” he said.
“Yes. But I want to be a much more powerful one,” she told him. “Show me your human visage, Darrakayiis.”
He tried to resist, but it was impossible. He shifted form as she requested. Her gaze swept appreciatively over him.
“Very good,” she said. “You’re going to make me a black witch. That’s why I’ve summoned you. I’ve already cast a spell over you that will make this possible.”
Ah, a woman with aspirations. Intriguing. Still annoying, but it was vaguely intriguing as well. “That’s truly what you want?”
“Yes.”
“What else do you want from me?” he asked.
She smiled and he could see the dark greed in her eyes. “Everything you’ve got to give.”
Lucifer was responsible for this. Whatever happened now to Darrak was entirely Lucifer’s fault. Lucifer had removed Hell’s protection over Darrak, leaving him vulnerable to be summoned by this common witch.
One day soon he’d get his revenge. Right after he’d killed this witch for having the audacity to think she could use him as she pleased.
This wouldn’t take too long, would it?
Andy proceeded to get so drunk thanks to his hidden supply of alcohol that he had to call a taxi to take him home at five o’clock. Darrak spent most of the day at Hot Stuff next door — no more than a hundred feet away — giving Eden the chance to concentrate on Andy’s poorly written case files as she tried to make sense of them.
It was good to have something to focus on, even if it was trying to decipher really bad handwriting.
