Chapter Four
Lilliana waited until Azagoth shut the door to stick out her tongue at him.
“Join me after you change,” she mimicked. “I’ll show you around your new home. Betray me and you’ll see exactly how unforgiving I can be.”
Yeah, real mature. But the guy was infuriating. And obnoxious. And handsome. She couldn’t forget handsome. The image of him standing next to his desk lingered in her mind, the way he’d been so casual, and yet, there was a coiled intensity about him, as if he could snap her neck with one hand while chugging rum from the bottle on his desk with the other.
Why in the hell did she find that sexy? She was an angel, for Heaven’s sake. She was supposed to be sweet and pure, and...that was a load of crap.
Angels were, in truth, ruthless warriors who fought for the side of good, often with stunning brutality. They fought dirty and didn’t always follow the rules. Then there were the politics—many angels had their own agendas, and those agendas often didn’t mesh with what was best for either the Earthly realm or the Heavenly one.
So, okay, she wasn’t sweet and pure, but she probably shouldn’t think Azagoth’s lethal aura was sexy.
Tossing the package he’d given her onto the black satin bedspread, she looked around the room, and this time, she didn’t bother to hide her shock. When she and Azagoth had first entered, she’d schooled her expression into calm nonchalance, but inside she had been hyperventilating.
She’d seen a lot in her centuries of life—demons and humans were extremely creative when it came to sex—but she’d never thought she’d be expected to participate in anything kinky. Heck, her ex, Hutriel, a high-ranking member of the angelic Eradicator Force who hunted the illegal offspring of angels and fallen angels, had despised the kind of messy sex humans and demons enjoyed so much. Angel intimacy, especially among the hardcore conservative old guard, was polite and clean, more of a merging of souls than bodies. Hutriel had definitely been old guard. He would have hated Azagoth’s lair.
She wrinkled her nose at the huge wood and padded leather St. Andrew’s Cross in the corner. It was much nicer than the one some sex toy salesman tried to get her to “try” when she’d walked past his store while hunting a demon once. And Azagoth’s leather-wrapped restraints were a far cry from the sales guy’s metal handcuffs.
Oh, but not to fear, Azagoth also had handcuffs hanging from a wooden rack next to the spanking bench. All sorts of restraints, whips, paddles, gags, and items she couldn’t identify kept those cuffs company, and she shivered.
And yet...curiosity, and maybe a screw-you aimed in Hutriel’s direction, nudged her over to the rack, and she found herself running her fingers over the surprisingly supple leather strands on the floggers and testing the fabric of the blindfolds. What would it feel like to be blindfolded and bound, completely at the mercy of someone like Azagoth?
Again she shivered, but this time, it was accompanied by desire curling in her gut and spiraling outward until even her skin flushed with pleasant tingles. Maybe she should be appalled by Azagoth’s collection and her reaction to it, but she’d always been adventurous and eager to try new things. With the right male, she’d give this stuff a go.
But Azagoth wasn’t the right male. So far, he’d proved to be an arrogant prick, and in any case, as soon as she found his chronoglass, she was out of here.
She moved over to the huge oak wardrobe and held her breath as she opened it. To her relief, there was nothing too weird hanging on the rack or sitting neatly on the shelves. But black wasn’t her color, and leather wasn’t her material. She was definitely a slacks and blouse kind of gal, so the midnight satin corset and metal-studded leather miniskirt got shoved to the back of the stack.
She finally chose a pair of plain black leggings, a maroon long-sleeved, fitted crop top with a turtleneck collar, and knee-high boots with four sets of buckles down the shaft. She checked herself out in the mirror, was surprised that the outfit wasn’t completely horrible and actually flattered her athletic figure.
She’d always compensated for her lack of feminine features and curves by wearing her hair loose and long, and her clothes were always on the conservative, lacier side. But somehow, these form-fitting garments enhanced her femininity even more than the flowing, delicate gown she’d been forced to wear. Huh.
Sinking down on the massive bed, she opened the package Azagoth had given her. Inside was a simple but elegant Tiffany key pendant on a delicate silver chain. It was beautiful, but why would he want her to wear it?
She wasn’t going to. Already she realized she had very little power down here, and one thing Azagoth wasn’t going to take away was her ability to choose. Very carefully, she put away the chain and left the box on the mattress.
The mattress she was going to have to share with Azagoth.
Unbidden, an image of him naked and lying next to her as that deep voice whispered raw, naughty things, made her skin flush and her breasts tingle. Was that what the angels sent here for him to service felt like when they were standing in this room?
The thought was enough to knock her halo back on straight. There would be no sex, because she was leaving.
Taking a deep, bracing breath, she opened the door to Azagoth’s office. The wall directly across from her had opened up, revealing a green-glowing cross-sectioned tunnel. A parade of demons shuffled through from left to right, each one escorted by a three-foot tall griminion shrouded completely in black. As she entered the room, the parade stopped, and Azagoth swung around. His expression remained neutral, but she swore his eyes darkened as he raked her with his gaze.
“Better,” he rumbled.
“Flattery isn’t your strong suit, is it?”
“And taking direction isn’t yours.”
So he’d noticed the missing necklace. Tough shit. She ignored him and glanced over at the tunnel. “What’s going on?”
“These are souls of dead demons and evil humans. My griminions are escorting them into the lower Sheoul-gra levels known as the Inner Sanctum.”
“Where Hades lives?”
He inclined his head. “Hades keeps them contained and suitably miserable until they’re reincarnated.”
She eyed the demon souls, which appeared to be as solid as they had been when they were alive. “I’m assuming demon souls are like those of humans? Non-corporeal while on Earth and in Sheoul, but solid in Sheoul-gra and Heaven?”
“It’s exactly the same. Human and demon souls appear as ghosts on the Earthly plane, but are fully realized in Heaven and Sheoul-gra.”
If only humans understood that their bodies on Earth were shadowy versions of what they would become after they died and returned to the Heavenly plane where they’d been created. They’d be much happier, not worrying so much about defiling themselves or even injuring their bodies. Their short human lives were but a thin thread in the fabric of their true existences, a drop in the ocean of their lifespans.
Azagoth made a sweeping motion with his hand, and the wall slid closed.
“So you just sit around all day and watch souls walk through a tunnel?”
A faint smile twitched on his lips. “That’s just one of my duties. Come on. I’ll show you around.”
He took her down several winding hallways, pointing out various rooms that led to quarters for his griminions.
“What, exactly, are griminions?” She watched one of the troll-like creatures scurry through a doorway and disappear into the darkness.
“During the negotiations between Heaven and Sheoul over the creation of Sheoul-gra, it was agreed that I would be allowed to create a species of demon that could assist with the retrieval of souls.”