Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 6) (19 page)

“Was the Devil calling to you?” she said in a voice so small that he barely caught her words over the crackle of the fire and Remus’s snoring.

Another shake of his head. “No. I… it was nothing.”

She frowned. “Let me guess… it was something and it was along the lines of… you like being with me… you like who you are when you’re around me… and then you remembered where you were, and who you’re supposed to be, and you went off on that whole…” She cleared her throat and deepened it, and he surmised she was attempting to sound like him. “Good and bad are a mortal concept. In Hell, bad is good. Good is a weakness.”

Asmodeus huffed and looked away from her.

“Good is not a weakness, Asmodeus. You don’t have to be who everyone expects you to be. You can be whoever you want to be.”

Part of him wished that were true. The good part.

“You do not know this realm, Liora. Do not act as if you do. Do not pretend you understand it and how I feel. Perhaps I am not acting as expected of me. Perhaps this is who I am and who I want to be.”

His sensitive hearing picked up on her stomach growling. A perfect excuse to get some air.

He stood, the force of his swift action causing his throne to move backwards, scraping across the floor. Romulus and Remus shot to their paws.

He cast a portal beside him and didn’t give her a chance to say a word before he stepped through it, coming out in the middle of Paris near the alley where he had first tasted food.

It was dark again. Did that mean the place where she had purchased food for him would be closed? He knew that mortal shops had hours in which they were open and ones in which they were closed.

He focused to put his wings away, feeling them shrink into his back, and then cast a mental command to bring him mortal clothing from his fortress. He had a small collection of clothing that fit him and suited him too. He liked to think so anyway. He replaced his loincloth and hip armour with black jeans, his boots and greaves with heavy biker boots, and donned a black shirt. He buttoned it and rolled up the sleeves until they were tight around his forearms.

Asmodeus raked his fingers through his black hair, tousling the longer strands, and then stalked out into the main avenue in search of food for his female.

Mortals scurried before him, fewer in number than there had been at the tower and far less irritating. Some females glanced his way and glanced again, lingering the second time. He glared at them, displeased by how they stared. He was not theirs to gaze upon. He belonged to Liora.

He flashed fangs, scaring them off, and began his hunt.

It was not fruitful at first. No store selling edible goods was open along the long stretch of tree-lined buildings. He walked the length of the avenue until he came to a pointed column and a large square, with an illuminated glass pyramid in the distance.

Asmodeus sniffed, trying to detect the scent of food. Two male mortals passing him carried plastic bags laden with boxes and bottles. Liquids came in bottles. He could ask for directions.

He stiffened at that thought.

He did not need mortals to show him how to find the place that was open and selling goods. He could find it himself. It couldn’t be far. Possibly around the corner. Yes. Around the corner. He would look there.

He turned left, sniffing and trying to follow the trail of the two males. It led him into a narrower street and then ended. Asmodeus huffed and frowned, scouring the buildings and glowing signs for an establishment that might offer food.

Liora needed food.

He had sworn to provide for her and take care of her every need.

He would not fail her.

“What are you doing here, Asmodeus?”

He refused to turn and face the owner of that voice. Now that he had rested, he was strong enough to fight him. The male was no longer a threat to him.

If Apollyon dared to attempt to fight him, he would prove the male’s earlier words wrong. He would destroy him.

Asmodeus settled on a direction and casually walked in it, heading deeper into the side street, using all of his keen senses to guide him. The smell of the males returned. It was spicy and strange. Unnatural. Did the males wear some sort of fragrance? Did females find that attractive?

Apollyon stalked behind him, an unwelcome shadow, earning them glances from more females. Did they look like twins to them? Asmodeus despised that thought.

He flashed his fangs again, snarling this time, ensuring they would look at him no more.

“Asmodeus.” Apollyon’s tone held a note of warning. “I will not ask you again.”

Asmodeus would not ask for directions, not from this male, not even for Liora’s sake.

She was hungry though.

If he returned empty-handed, she would weaken. She would want to leave his castle and return to this world. He did not want to fail her.

“I am hunting,” he said, finding it a reasonable thing to say. It was neither asking for directions nor not asking for them.

Apollyon grabbed his shoulder, spun him around and slammed him against a pale stone building so hard it cracked under the force of his impact. Asmodeus growled and bared his fangs, snatched his irritating twin’s wrist and twisted it viciously, causing him to drop to his knees. Apollyon rolled, breaking free of his grasp, and came to his feet.

“I will not allow you to harm these mortals,” Apollyon growled, his blue eyes flashing dangerously and his power rising, swamping Asmodeus.

Asmodeus unleashed a fraction of his power, combating Apollyon’s, driving it back and showing him that he was stronger now, able to fight him. If they fought in this world, in the open, they would cause mortal casualties.

Asmodeus hesitated. Liora would not be pleased if she learned he had fought his twin and had harmed mortals without feeling any remorse.

But he did feel it.

And it shocked him.

He stepped back, glaring at Apollyon, and swallowed hard. What was she doing to him? She had unleashed one emotion in him after another, bringing them all out, tempering his darker ones with light, creating balance within him.

Weakness.

He clenched his fists and shoved past Apollyon, his mood darkening and Liora’s words ringing in his mind. Good was not a weakness. Liora was strong. Was it the good in her that made her that way?

She had been brave around him, had shown him compassion and tenderness, and affection too. She had taken care of his wounds and bathed him, all with warmth in her eyes and in her touch. Her desire to do good had given her the strength to weather his snarls and his fury over being defeated so easily, and had given her the courage to reveal herself to him, letting him see that she cared for him and would tend to him whether he wanted her to or not.

“I warn you, Asmodeus. Lay a hand on these mortals and I will end you.”

Asmodeus lifted his right hand above his shoulder and flipped Apollyon off. “I am not here to hunt mortals.”

He felt his twin’s confusion, a sickening side effect of sharing his blood.

“What is it you hunt then?”

“Sustenance.” He continued onwards, studying every mortal that passed him, picking out any who carried a bag.

Many of them did not contain food.

He huffed again, growing impatient and bored of this hunt. He would not ask Apollyon though. He would sooner die than give the angel the satisfaction of having yet another thing he could do better than Asmodeus.

“You are hungry again?”

Asmodeus closed his eyes and asked the Devil to give him strength so he wouldn’t kill his twin just to make him shut up. The mission was what mattered. Liora would be happy if he found her food and returned with it to her. They could feed each other again and he could try new items. Perhaps savoury things that he had witnessed mortals eating while watching the pool on the plateau.

Perhaps caffeine.

He smiled to himself and was tempted to ask his shadow whether Liora had been telling the truth and caffeine was indeed a stimulant of that nature.

His shadow chose that moment to grow even more irritating. “Where is Liora?”

“Safe.” It was all the wretched annoying male needed to know.

“With you?” Apollyon laughed. “I hardly think she is safe.”

Asmodeus growled at him over his shoulder and frowned. Apollyon meant business. He had changed into his gold-edged black armour and had his curved golden blades sheathed at his waist.

“I have no interest in fighting you. I am on a deadline.” A self-imposed one, but a deadline nonetheless. A female walking towards him had a bag similar to the one the two males had carried. He glanced into it as she passed. Food items. Notably things in a clear bag similar to what Apollyon had thrown in his face. He was close.

He sniffed to catch her scent and kept walking, following the rather pungent trail.

“Because you are hungry? That means you are hiding somewhere in the mortal world. I have not sensed you in Paris since over a day ago. You hide her somewhere else.”

“She is not hidden and I am not hungry.” Irritating angel. Asmodeus frowned. He supposed she was hidden in a way, but not from Apollyon and Serenity. He was hiding her from the Devil.

Apollyon grabbed him again, took his leg out and sent him crashing to the ground with him on top. His twin pinned him, using all of his weight and his power to keep him on the pavement. Asmodeus glared at him.

“She is in Hell?” The wild look in the death angel’s eyes warned Asmodeus that Apollyon would beat the answer out of him if he dared to ignore the question.

“She is safe there… and hungry… and that is the only reason I am not ripping your throat out with my fangs, Brother.”

“I warned you never to call me that.” Apollyon grasped his throat and Asmodeus snapped, the memory of having his windpipe crushed by the Devil’s shoe sending fury burning through his blood.

He smashed his right fist into Apollyon’s jaw, knocking him to one side, enough that he could tip the male off balance and escape. He came to his feet and kicked Apollyon hard in the gut before he could defend, winding him.

“And I warned you never to underestimate me.” Asmodeus backed off a step and breathed hard, fighting to quell the urge to bloody his claws. “Luckily for you, I have more important matters that require my time.”

He scanned the route ahead. The road forked. Asmodeus cursed in the demon tongue, choosing the foulest one available to him.

Apollyon picked himself up, dusted himself off and frowned at him. “Serenity would kill me if her cousin went hungry and ended up stuck in Hell. That is the only reason I am not killing you right now. You will return her, Asmodeus. You had no right to take her.”

Asmodeus smiled wickedly. “I did not take her.”

Apollyon’s blue eyes widened, shock rippling across his face, a face Asmodeus wanted to beat into a bloody pulp until they no longer resembled each other.

“She followed me. I told her to remain. She fell into Hell after me.”

“That changes nothing. You could still bring her back.”

Asmodeus stepped up to him, staring straight into his eyes. “It changes everything. She is
mine
. She chose to be with me.”

“Asmodeus,” Apollyon growled and Asmodeus shook his head, warning him not to even try to fight him. His twin clenched his fists, squared his jaw and then relaxed. “Tell me she is at least far enough from the pit that the eternal pain in my backside cannot reach her.”

“She is safe.” He would not say it again. He was tired of his twin questioning his ability to protect what was his.

“Swear you will return her to her cousin soon.”

“I will do no such thing. Liora will return when she chooses it. I have promised her I will bring her back to this world once she is ready… but I will not do so before I know she is safe from my master.” Asmodeus stepped away from Apollyon and looked up at the sliver of inky sky between the buildings.

No stars. The city lights drowned them out. He would have liked to see them again. Perhaps after everything had ended and he knew Liora was safe, they could gaze at them together again.

He had to keep her safe first and protect her from the Devil, a man who had easily defeated him and had commanded him to bring her to him. It wouldn’t be long before the Devil lost patience and did something foolish, like send Hell’s angels to find him and Liora. He needed to stop the Devil. He needed to win this time.

“Apollyon,” he said, voice as distant as his gaze and his thoughts.

“What?”

“When you fight the Devil… how do you defeat him?”

Apollyon fell silent and tense. Asmodeus closed his eyes, lowered his head, and opened them again, settling them directly on his twin.

“I need to know.” It was hard for him to ask for his twin’s aid and Apollyon had to know that, and therefore know how important it was to him. “I need to protect her.”

Apollyon stared at him. “You are serious about her.”

Asmodeus cast his gaze at his feet, wishing he could see beyond the paving slabs, rock and earth to his beautiful Liora.

“I give it my all and do not give up, even when it feels I am on the verge of death and I am defeated, unable to go on,” Apollyon said in a quiet voice. “I keep fighting because I want to live. Have a reason to live and you will have a reason to fight.”

“Liora,” Asmodeus whispered, his heart expanding in his chest, aching to see her again. “I would slay anything for her. I would die for her.”

“You are missing the point,” Apollyon said and Asmodeus looked at him, surprised to catch warmth in his blue eyes, a touch of compassion and understanding. His twin had never looked at him with anything other than disgust before. “Liora is your reason to live. You will live for her… even when you feel you cannot go on and your end is near, you will not give up because you want to live for her.”

“With her.” Asmodeus wanted to be with her right that moment, looking into her hazel eyes and hearing her soft melodic voice caressing his ears, bathing in her smiles and tender touches, and savouring the sweetness of her kiss.

Apollyon shook his head, a look of pity in his eyes. “She has you well under her spell.”