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“My name is Lucien, little sinner,” he said, then whipped his hand down.
I screamed as the dagger slammed into my chest where my heart lay. He withdrew it from me, and the blade left my skin with a sucking pop. The air in my lungs wheezed out of me, and I grunted as he stabbed me again in the same spot.
The candles in the room flared higher, and a loud noise that sounded like a torch joined it. The shadows screeched again, and I choked on a cry, fisting my hands as I held on while Lucien drove the blade into me over and over again. Copper filled my mouth, and blood bubbled up my throat, choking me. A crimson spray spurted from my mouth and painted his face. He didn’t bother to wipe it away as he yanked the weapon out of me.
Layla’s cries quieted, a sucking noise taking the place of her voice as another man stabbed her to death.
“Grace.”
Lucien stopped, his chest heaving as he stared down at me with narrowed eyes. Specks of my blood dotted his face and mouth. He licked the corner of his lip, tasting my life force.
“Grace.”
I gasped for air that didn’t come. My heart thumped slower and slower until it missed a beat, then another. My eyelids drooped. My chest was on fire, and my lungs shriveled. My throat constricted with a groan, my tongue moving backward—the sound of my body fighting to draw breath.
“Grace.”
My eyelashes fluttered, and I turned my gaze away from Lucien, staring up at the ceiling where a goat-faced demon fucked a crying woman. The longer I stared, the more my vision began to darken.
As I drew my last breath, the mosaic came to life. The demon slammed the woman down on his cock, then raised her and forced her back down to take all of his massive length. All the while, her mouth moved with sobs, and tears trailed down her cheeks. I caught the look of lust and pleasure on her face that she desperately tried to cover up with her sobs.
Was that my fate after I died?
My final breath wheezed out of me.
The last thing I saw was Lucien glaring down at me.
“My little sinner.”
8
LUCIEN
Istared at Grace’s dead body. Her green eyes appeared empty, having lost their spark of life. Blood trickled from the corners of her mouth and ran down her cheeks to her chin. My gaze went to her bloody, mangled chest. Crimson stained the dress, ruining it. Her beauty was just as radiant in death as it was in life.
My bloody little sinner that I led to the slaughterhouse.
I could still see the fear rounding her eyes as she looked at me. During our brief conversation, I noticed a spark of interest in her gaze. The perfume of her arousal still lingered in my nose and lungs. Lucifer—the prince of many names—was one lucky son of a bitch to have her as his virgin bride.
Cain sniffed from his position behind the dead brunette’s head. He wiped his face with the back of his tattooed arm and turned to me with hope shining in his eyes. The demon was guilty of wanting to please our prince. “Has he said anything to you yet?”
I raised my eyes from the deceased girl and looked at Cain. He was covered in the other girl’s blood and wore a lopsided grin. His messy brown hair stuck up at the ends, most likely from running his bloody fingers through them one too many times. His horns curled from his temples, no longer using glamor to hide them from the dead human women.
“He hasn’t, but he will.”
There was no rushing Lucifer. The night was still young, and the girls died not even seconds ago.
I glanced at Grace, my half-hard cock swelling with more blood and hardening until it became painful as it pressed against my zipper.
Fuck, I need to release this pent-up energy soon.
I moved away from the altar where Grace lay, looking up at the ceiling with the same pained expression she had when she died.
“We’ll leave the bodies for him.” As we always did.
We never removed the girls from the altar until Lucifer told me he’d accepted the sacrifices. Once he let me know, I disposed of the bodies and erased any evidence that could lead back to us.
I cocked my head, remembering something I’d missed.
