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“Don’t say another word,” he mutters, glowering. “You don’t get to speak, you demon’s little slut.”
“That’s offensive to my devils. They’re far more powerful than those bottom feeders.” The hem of my dress dances along my thighs, and I try not to move too much to keep it from hiking up. I want to kick myself for thinking something so short was a good idea all because I wanted to tease Dante. At least I wore a thong. I almost went commando. “Why are you even doing this? My devils will get here before anyone can even consider answering your bullshit prayers.”
Elias remains expressionless, his scruffy face handsome without the scowl he wore when he kidnapped me. I don’t know what happened or how he—or I, for that matter—looked like in our former lives, but he still carries an otherworldly attractiveness. “What did I say about talking? I don’t want to hurt you. If the neighbors hear you, we’re going to have a problem, darlin’. You don’t want to be responsible for a couple deaths by demon.”
Demon? He’s praying to God. This whole situation is fucked. If I knew what was going on, I might be able to save myself.
I narrow my eyes, ignoring his comment. “You know, praying is useless. No one is going to come to your call because you’ve asked for forgiveness. My soul keepers said that once someone is Hell-bound, that’s it for them. You’re better off just letting me go and bartering whatever it is that you want with my devils.”
“Your devils? Mortals can’t own demonic entities.” Elias’s brows lower on his forehead with his anger. “They own you. I should know.”
Clenching his jaw, Elias strides the short distance to me but doesn’t widen the space between the closet doors. I try to stay calm under his new level of scrutiny. His eyes travel down my face and to my body, lingering on the short hem of my dress. Elias swallows and drags his gaze back up, shifting his mouth. A dimple peeks on his cheek. While he doesn’t look buff or brawny like Kase and Dante, he also looks nowhere near what the saviors look like in comparison. Elias is mortal, obviously sick, and the last person I want to deal with.
“I’m not just any mortal, fuckhead, and neither are you. So obviously you don’t know. I’ll give you one last chance. It’ll be in your best interest if you let me go unharmed.” My innate need to prove myself consumes me. I shouldn’t be the only one curious about this situation. “You don’t want to make Lucian mad.”
“Lucian?” Elias tilts his head slightly, sending his rich brown hair onto his forehead. His gray eyes rapidly blink like he’s running the name through his mind. “Who the fuck is he?”
“Most people know him as Lucifer.” I wiggle my fingers, trying to keep the feeling in my hands. “If you hurt me or give me to the saviors, all it does is guarantee your eternal punishment.”
“God will pardon my sins. He has to. I know your importance to Hell. The demons have spoken of you. You have a bounty on your soul.” Elias grips one of the sliding doors, easing it open wider, turning his fingers pale with his grip. “If the demons want you so much, surely so does Heaven.”
My expression falters, and I flare my nostrils. This is all Lucian’s fault for putting me in this situation. Had he trusted Kase and Dante with the task of helping me make the angelic brethren fall, word would’ve never gotten out. And whoever Elias is now...fuck, I need to know. He doesn’t remember our past life, his mind a blank slate the same as mine toward him. If he knew, maybe things would be different. But telling him now? I doubt he’ll believe anything I say.
“Elias, please. It’s not what you think. I can help you. We can help each other,” I beg, shaking my body against the restraints. “There is so much I have to tell you. You just need to release me and let me call my devils. They will help you with whatever it is you need.”
“Only God can save me!” Elias yells, his handsome face twisting in rage.
He grinds his teeth and punches the slider door, knocking it off its tracks. I startle and fall backwards, putting all of my weight on the clothes rod. It cracks in half, and I fall to the closet floor. Elias hollers at me, trying to open the door, but it doesn’t budge. Twisting the broken rod, I hold it between my knees and wiggle the ropes up the length. If I can just get it off, I can fight.
“God, please. I’m begging you. Save me. That’s all I ask of you. Forgive me for my sins. I never intended to go against your grace.” Elias continues to pray instead of trying to force open the closet. “I will do anything.”
The floor rumbles under my ass, and I squeak in fear, rushing as fast as I can to free myself from the binds. Elias chants his words over and over again. Bright light flashes through the crack in the door. I ignore it, bracing my back to the closet wall and using my feet to push the clothes rod away until the rope falls free. Panic tightens my chest. Shit. Shit. Shit. No good for me comes with bright light such as the glow stinging my eyes through the crack.
“Elias.” The sultry voice of a woman hums through the air. Why am I surprised? Maybe because this is the first woman I’ve encountered in the last couple weeks. “You are looking unwell. I bet your keeper just loves it. Slow and agonizing without having to put in the work.”
Elias groans without responding with words.
“Aww, baby. Come on. I don’t even have your tongue.” A purr sounds through the air, rattling the closet door. What I thought was an angel clearly isn’t. Fuck. The light must’ve been hellfire.
“Speaking to you is a waste of breath,” Elias says, his voice raspy. He coughs and wheezes like the effort to speak is too much for him.
“Not if you give me the word. Your keeper can be handled. All you have to do is ask, handsome. I heard a rumor that you got your hands on a soul wanted by all of Hell. You do know that to get the freedom you desire, all you must do is show me the woman who became angel-kissed for you. Allow me to help you, Elias. We can help each other. You don’t have to spend the rest of your pitiful life ill and in pain. I’ll take your contract as my own. Wouldn’t you prefer my brand of eternal punishment? It’ll be fun,” the woman says, the soft taps of her heels clicking over the threadbare carpet. “What do you say?”
I shift on my feet and peek through the crack between the closet doors. My breath catches at the sight of the woman—the demon—as she dangles Elias a foot above the floor. Her long blond hair twists into a braid that hangs down her back. If it weren’t for her demonic façade peeking through, revealing her true body, she’d be model-gorgeous. But the patch of rotting flesh on her cheek and her sunken blue eye leave her a freaky hot mess.
“Where is she?” she purrs.
“Fuck off! The only thing you can do for me is prolong my miserable life. My contract is binding. Now go!” Elias manages to unsheathe a blade from his jacket and jabs it into the demonic woman’s chest. “Return to Hell!”
Screeching, the demon throws Elias at the wall, sending him crumpling to the floor. She laces her hand, sharp with claw-like nails, around the metal hilt and tugs the knife free. Smoke wafts from her burning fingers, and she drops the blessed dagger to the floor.
She touches the bloody spot between her breasts and glowers at Elias. Sharp, jagged teeth extend from her mouth as she reveals her hellacious glory. “Do you really think such things are so easy, baby? I own a hundred powerful souls. Without your precious light, you can’t—”
The closet rod smacks against the sliding door with a thud, cutting off her words. I curse the damn universe, not bothering to whisper. Swiveling her neck, she turns her head at an impossible angle. I meet the demon’s yellow eyes. My muscles tighten in anticipation, and I grip the rod as if it can protect me from the suddenly raging beast charging in my direction. I move out of her line of sight, pressing myself to the other side of the empty closet. I need just a few feet of space to add force to my jab. If I get that, I might be able to survive another couple of minutes.
The floor trembles, and the gross scent of rotten eggs permeates through the air, her demonic façade grotesque-smelling instead of hypnotic like Kase and Dante’s. I don’t even have to glance at the woman through the crack to know she reveals her true body, and I bet it is as gross as all the other demons I’ve seen. Unlike my devils, who embody dark and delicious power, still enthralling in their Hell forms, the demons I’ve seen freak me out and make my skin crawl. They just look wrong and smell awful. Instead of being attracted to the alluring darkness, I’m repelled by it. I never asked, but it might have to do with the fact that my devils were once angels, and my soul knows it. Demons are creatures born and bred, created from the fiery pits of Hell. But honestly, I don’t know much more than that. It could be the fact that despite their psycho tendencies, my devils are sweet and protective.
A scratching noise claws at the closet door, and I shiver. The demon doesn’t rush to yank it off, preferring to torment me for a bit like she knows I can’t go anywhere. And while the anticipation of her attack digs painfully deep into my soul, it also gives me time to think about ways to save myself.
