Chapter Six Lucifer
Chapter Six
Lucifer
“Did you really have to drag me out of bed for this?”
My brother sits across from my desk inside my office, his displeased grumbling carrying to where I stand at the floor-to-ceiling window. It’s taken nearly as long to get him here as one would think—several days, actually, considering Bel does everything and everyone on his own time. But what else would you expect from Sloth?
Outside the window, the evening smog obscures what remains of the sunset, the colors blending into an amalgam of orange and red before me. Like hellfire, only tamer, though little else is in this city, yet Hell’s not the particular part of my origin story that I miss.
Not entirely.
I take a sip of my whisky, the amber liquid burning as it makes its way down my throat. “You and Az have been rather cozy as of late.” I finally glance over my shoulder.
Bel shrugs unapologetically as he sprawls back in his chair. Ever the lothario. One would think he’d be unfit, considering he’s known for inspiring others to remain lazy, but these days, the laid-back, cut-abed, surfer-boy persona is working for him.
“What’s there to say? You know I don’t like to get caught up in the family politics.” He waves a suntanned hand dismissively, like he’s flicking away a rather irritating fly. “It’s not worth the energy.” He shrugs before he sips from his own drink, a whisky and tonic.
I take mine straight.
My unamused huff in response doesn’t faze him, though I don’t expect it to. It’s not exactly a lie that he doesn’t join in our family’s little reindeer games, but it’s not entirely true either. Bel may pretend he doesn’t care what happens in the scheme of, well, everything, particularly when it comes to our family feuds, but that’s only true so long as he’s allowed to play the field in whatever way benefits him. He’s slow to act of his own accord, but quick to switch loyalties when it suits him. Only if it requires minimal effort, of course.
Bel does everything in half measures, refuses to take life seriously.
I bury my hands in the pockets of my suit coat, taking stock of my middle sibling. Everything about Belphegor is leisurely, relaxed in a way I never will be. All the way from his shaggy hair to his sandal-clad toes. If I didn’t enjoy the fucked-up life I’ve carved for myself in this city, Bel’s carefree nature would make me more than a little green. Though Levi would lose his shit if he ever heard me mutter that particular turn of phrase. He’s hated it ever since Wrath coined it for him when we were barely more than cherubs.
But old habits die hard, I suppose.
I cross the room toward Bel, coming to a stop at my desk where I lean against its edge. “Usually, I’d be inclined to agree with you, if Astaroth hadn’t already told me you were with Azmodeus that evening.” The look in my eyes shifts from cordial to don’t-fuck-with-me in an instant. “Try again, brother.”
Bel swears. “Fucking Astaroth.” He drags his fingers through his bleached blond hair, casting me a halfhearted sneer. “He works too much, if you ask me. Enough that he’s got a permanent stick up his ass.” He raises his voice on those last few words, clearly hoping that Astaroth, who’s standing sentry outside the door, can hear.
My gaze doesn’t falter from where I’ve pinned Bel beneath it.
Bel slumps in his seat, pouting over the fact that I refuse to let this go.
“You’re deflecting, Belphegor.” I use his full name whenever it suits me. “I wouldn’t think that’s your style.”
Bel quirks a lazy brow.
I grin viciously. “Doesn’t it take more effort to lie?”
The bite in my words is little more than a thinly veiled hiss.
“Fine,” Bel grumbles. “So I was with Az that night. What of it?” He shrugs, spreading an arm over the back of the chair once more. “You know he and I have business together.”
Az’s investments reside mostly in the porn industry, while Bel’s are in a mixture of television—specifically, streaming services that promote binge-watching—some off-the-book involvement in the drug trade, and a few unconventional connections to Big Pharma he’d rather the media not know about. Naturally.
“And what exactly is Az’s business with Gluttony’s club?” I say, not bothering to beat around the bush.
Bel shrugs again. “I find it too tiresome to say.”
Meaning he’s not going to offer me any information for free.
Normally, I’d play the game with him. Throw him a bone or whatever it took to get him to talk, but I don’t have the time nor the patience for his bullshit today, not with the company’s stockholders already irritating me. Without hesitating, I snap my fingers, and not even a second later, two of my demons burst into the office, prepared to do my bidding. Namely, torturing Bel in whatever twisted ways I deem necessary until he’s finally willing to talk. Of all our siblings, Bel’s always been the easiest to manipulate. It’s tragic, really.
He doesn’t even put up a proper fight.
“Okay, okay,” he says, throwing up his hands as if we were children again. He calls uncle before the guards even reach him. He waves them off before making a point of straightening that god-awful Hawaiian shirt he’s wearing. “You never did know how to take a joke, Luce.”
I scowl at the nickname, one that another of our numerous siblings coined for me.
One I’d be hard pressed to consider family these days.
“Leave Michael out of this,” I sneer.
Three days of the company’s board members bitching about how stocks have dropped has left me shorter tempered than usual.
Bel sighs. “Az is opening up a new club,” he confesses finally. “One that’s supposed to compete with The Serpent.”
I quirk one dark brow. “Really?”
The news is anticlimactic, even for me.
Which means there’s no doubt something more to it.
But if Bel knows anything, he doesn’t show it.
He brushes off his shoulder, baring his teeth toward one of the guards in a halfhearted attempt at menace. “I told you it was uninteresting.” He rolls his eyes.
“What good will opening a new club possibly do for him?” I mutter the question more to myself than anyone else, but Bel still answers me.
He shrugs. “I suppose someone will have to fill the void once you’re gone.”
Bel suddenly has my attention now, my gaze cutting to him.
“Pardon?” I lift a dark brow.
Bel makes a get-outta-here face like I can’t possibly mean what I’m asking. “Oh, come on, Lucifer. Don’t be naive. Someone will have to fill your place here once Gabriel returns and dear old Dad lets you get out of that demon-infested prison for good.”
I hold Bel’s gaze for a prolonged beat, my face expressionless.
I have no intention of leaving. Not now. Not ever.
Bel laughs like we’re sharing an incredibly funny joke, but the moment he realizes I haven’t joined him, his laughter dies quickly. “You ... don’t actually think you can have it all, do you? To stay here, rule Hell, and get Dad’s redemption?” He scoffs. “It doesn’t work like that, Lucy.”
My lack of response tells him everything it needs to.
Bel swears violently. “Fuck me. Of course you do. Of course you would think you’d get to have your cake and fucking eat it too. You were the one who thought it was a bright idea to challenge Dad and get us all kicked out, after all. Lucifer—”
“Are you finished yet, Bel?” I mutter coolly.
The ice in those words is enough to give him pause.
I didn’t become who I am simply by being the first of us to fall. My brothers may have built Hell alongside me, but whether they like it or not, I will always be the worst among them, their leader.
No matter how much they resent me.
“Yes, yes, I think we’re done here,” Bel replies.
“Good.” I push off my desk, rounding the obsidian surface to stand beside the executive seat. I pin my brother with a menacing glare. “Then crawl back into your quaint little Hampton beach house and stay there—quickly.”
Bel turns to leave, clearly understanding the dismissal.
He’s almost at the door before he turns and says, “You’re making the same mistake all over again, you know.”
I lower both hands onto my desk, using my arms to support my weight. I don’t bother to look at Bel as he continues.
“You don’t get to have it all, then or now. That’s not how it works, Lucifer. You’re the only one among us who never accepted that.”
My gaze snaps toward him. “Get out,” I snarl.
Bel hesitates but doesn’t say anything.
It’s only once the door closes behind him and I hear his footsteps retreat that I allow the full extent of my anger to take hold. Abruptly, I shove the contents of my desk to the floor, taking out all the office supplies in one fell swoop. Several items clatter onto the carpet, breaking instantly, but it’s not enough to satisfy me. Not truly, and not because I believe Bel is right.
But because, for once he saw straight through me.