Chapter 11 Lucifer
Istand at the edge of my domain, waiting for them. I’d known when Asta came to me that whatever he was asking was important. He wouldn’t ask it if it weren’t; he’s far too proud. He hid behind Bast, and the mortal possibly being his mate, but I saw through that easily enough.
No, if Asta didn’t care, he wouldn’t have come to me personally. He could have sent Bast, and I would have agreed all the same.
If anything, his interest only piqued my curiosity, and that was even before I learned that Talian and Kai were out looking for her, too.
Demons didn’t work well together typically, and even these four are prone to arguing. But somehow they’ve all agreed to save this mortal from Rome.
Why?
The air heats around me before a shock goes off, like a tiny bolt of electricity that I know means demonic teleportation.
Perks of this being my realm: nothing happens here that I can’t sense; nothing happens outside of my control.
Hopefully, that remains true after what I’m about to do.
Asta, Kai, Talian, Bast and…
What the hell?
Is that Ruin?
Why did they bring the angel to literal Hell?
“Why is he here?” I ask even before they reach me, unable to stop myself.
“I’m her guardian,” he snaps, and I feel my eyes widen in shock. Ruin has a backbone? When the fuck did that happen?
“A fantastic one at that, considering you're all here,” I snap back, opening my arms to gesture around me.
His eyes narrow, but he remains quiet, just like I knew he would.
I have nothing against Ruin, not really. Once, we had been somewhat close, prior to the fall, but even then, he was a pushover. Which is why I assume he remained in Heaven, unlike the rest of us.
Ruin stops, his toe stopping at the edge of the river since angels are unable to enter without my approval, the reason Asta came to me in the first place. The others could easily cross the river, as this is their domain, yet they remain behind as well.
Well, all but Kai, who doesn’t even spare them a glance as he not only crosses the river but heads toward the castle.
Prick has no idea where he’s going, but I make no move to stop him as I finally catch sight of the girl who has them all scrambling to save her.
The girl who made them care.
I move across the water with ease, another perk of owning the domain and death itself.
“So this is Rome’s mortal?” I ask, knowing damn well at least one of them will have an issue with it.
Bast’s human form drops away in the blink of an eye, his low growl vibrating in the air around us.
Talian isn’t holding himself much better. His human form also falls away, but he finds a way to swallow down his growl, though I’m not convinced he didn’t swallow his tongue to do so.
Asta’s only tell is the set of his jaw. He’s always cold, but right now it looks as if his jaw were carved from granite. I bet if I listened really hard, I could hear his teeth grind together.
How fun! This might be the most entertainment I’ve had in… Well, let's not count years, that’s depressing—a very long time.
I can feel Ruin’s eyes as they bore into the side of my head, and I can’t stop the smile that splits my lips as I turn to face him once again.
Four demons and two angels.
Who is this mortal?
I take a moment to look closer.
She’s small, pressed against Ruin’s chest, and for a moment, I wonder if maybe she isn’t a woman at all but a girl. One look at her face tells me she’s well past puberty, though still young compared to any of us.
The mortal lifespan is such a fickle thing, here and gone in the blink of an eye, really. It’s almost tragic, hauntingly beautiful, much like she is.
Her hair is white, falling in long free waves over Ruin's arm; her roots are dark, letting me know that’s not its natural color. The mortals love to play God, changing everything they can.
I love it.
She’s wearing shorts and a tank top, both dark gray, and while they aren’t form-fitting, there's still enough to see the curve of her chest and the hips—pajamas if I had to guess. Her skin is pale white, which suggests she doesn’t spend much time outdoors.
Not that I’m one to judge, though I imagine if I ever did go topside again, I would spend most of my time enjoying the outdoors, preferably away from people.
I also don’t have a psycho angel stalking me across states, though.
She’s beautiful, but that doesn't make her special; millions, if not billions, of mortals are just as beautiful, if not even more so than she is.
So what makes her special?
I guess I have plenty of time to find out.
I hold out my arms, offering to take her, but Ruin makes no move to hand her over. If anything, I’d say he holds her tighter, his fingers damn near digging into her arm and leg.
“I’m not going to hurt her; it would be counterproductive, but if you think you can keep her from Rome, by all means.”
I take a step back, and his brow pinches, his nostrils flaring. He hates that he needs my help, and I love it.
I might not exactly have any hard feelings for Ruin, but I’m not super fond of angels as a whole, something I feel is more than understandable. Watching him squirm makes me happier than I care to admit.
“Ruin,” Bast hisses, clearly unhappy with his hesitation.
Ruin waits another moment before handing her over, careful not to touch me, his eyes fixed on her. It’s impossible to miss the pain that flashes in his eyes, even though he vanishes the moment she’s in my arms.
I move back a step, turning as I go, but I don’t make it far, a hand reaching out to stop me.
“Are you sure this will work?” The worry that shines in Talian’s eyes makes me pause.
“Yes.” I admit it’s not something I do often, so I understand their concern.
Mortals aren’t meant to be in Hell or Heaven, the same way demons are unable to enter Heaven and angels cannot enter Hell.
But every rule has its loophole, an exception, and as the King of Hell, I am that exception.
I could have let Ruin in, but he didn’t ask, and I’m already doing enough charity work today.
I shake off Talian’s hold and head across the river; the others lag behind, their eyes fixed on me. She’s so small and light, it feels as if my arms are empty.
They must not be feeding her enough, not that it’s any of my business.
Her face scrunches up as I grip her harder, letting my demonic magic continue to seep into her.
It’s not enough to cause any damage or even be noticeable in the long term, but it is necessary.
I look down at her; the way her face scrunches up, clearly uncomfortable, but there’s nothing that can be done about it.
Without it, she would go insane, her brain turning to goo, and I don’t think Asta would appreciate that, though it would no doubt keep Rome away from her.
Unless she went to Heaven…
I look at her delicate features and feel her life force pressing back against my essence.
Yeah, she would definitely go to Heaven.
Rome shouldn’t have been able to sink his shiny golden claws into her; she’s good, yet because of him, she’s found herself in Hell with demons who may or may not be able to save her from his mind control.
Life isn’t fair, especially for the mortals whose lives are over in the blink of an eye, only for them to face divine judgment. I’d lived hundreds of mortal lifetimes before I fell, which only goes to show that anyone can change and nothing is black and white, not even the divine.
But believing anything that isn’t in line with God’s beliefs gets you banished, a lesson we learned the hard way. Although I can’t say I’m upset by it. I’m much happier in Hell, my domain, than I was in Heaven.
Ironic if you ask me.
The mortal's face relaxes once we make it over the river, and as I make my way back to the castle, I feel the others trailing behind. A million questions run through my mind, theories on how they might be able to break Rome’s control over her, but I keep them to myself.
I’d agreed to let them bring her here, but this isn’t my problem.
I can’t afford to have a mortal taking my attention off the war that’s been raging on Earth, no matter how interesting she might be.