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That, however, was not such a hardship.
For many years, his attention had unnerved her, for he was unlike anyone she had ever met: half man, half beast, all…edge. But then she’d come to find comfort in his detached gaze. He protected her from demons and souls who slipped through the gate, attacking everyone in their path. No matter the harm to himself.
She could do no less for him.
I sold my soul, he’d said. For what? she wondered. What had he received in return? Did he consider the trade a good one? She’d wanted to ask him, but had recalled how uncomfortable he had been with her questions about the wall. He would not have welcomed a discussion about something so personal.
And that was probably for the best. Only her job mattered right now. How could she not have known demon High Lords were determined to escape forever?
Had Lucifer somehow blocked her visions of this realm? He was the only one strong enough to do so. If so, what did he hope to gain? Were she to ask, he would merely lie, that much she knew.
She’d never felt more helpless.
No, that wasn’t true. During her first visit, Lucifer had sensed her trepidation—and he’d since used every opportunity to nurture it. A fire-coated touch here, a wicked taunt there. Every time she had come here to report an infraction, she had wilted under his attentions.
That had disappointed the gods. They would have called her home, she was sure, had they not already bound her to the wall, an act that had been meant to help with her duties, not hinder them. But not even the gods had known just how deeply the bond would go. Rather than simply sensing when the wall needed fortification, she’d realized it was her reason for living.
Her blood now sang with its essence.
The first time one of the demons had scratched it, she’d felt the sting and had gasped, shocked. Now, it no longer shocked her, though she still felt every contact. When a soul brushed it, her skin felt tickled. When the inferno licked at it, she felt burned. So why had she not sensed these latest ministrations?
Oh, she’d felt her body draining of strength, little by little, pains shooting through her seemingly for no reason, but her visions had been calm. Well, as calm as such visions could be, considering what she was forced to witness on a daily basis.
Now, at least, she knew why she’d hurt. Bound as she was to this dark underworld, that crack in the outer wall was literally killing her.
You are losing focus. Concentrate! Distraction could cost her. Dearly. And the outcome of this meeting was more important than any that had come before it.
From outside the palace she could hear the crazed laughter of the demons, the moans of the tortured and the sizzle of flesh pouring from bone. And the smell…it was a hell all its own.
It was difficult, remaining stoic amidst such vileness. Especially now. The High Lords must have been working on the wall for weeks. Because if her side was cracked, she shuddered to think of the damage on Hell’s side. At the very least, she should have seen the demons approach. But again, her visions had remained calm.
Enough of this. Clearly, she could not concentrate.
“Lucifer,” she called again. “You heard my demands. Now heed them. Or I will leave and you will miss this opportunity to bargain.”
The pound of footsteps suddenly echoed and the flames several feet in front of her parted. Finally. In strolled Lucifer, as carefree as a summer day.
“Yes, I did hear them,” he said in the silkiest of voices. He even grinned, the expression pure wickedness. “You mentioned a bargain? What can I do for you, my darling?”
CHAPTER THREE
KADENCE DIDN’T ALLOW herself to shudder.
Lucifer was tall, muscled like a warrior and sensually handsome despite the dark inferno raging in his eyes. But he did not compare to the beast who guarded his domain. The beast whose face was too rough to be considered anything other than savage. The beast whose massive body should have frightened her but only made her feel safe. The beast whose monstrous appearance should have disgusted her but didn’t. Instead, his brown eyes—eyes she’d once considered impassive, but after today, now saw as haunted—captivated her. And, of course, his protective nature intrigued her.
She might never have become interested in the Guardian, might have continued to assume he was like every other hated creature here, but then he’d saved her life that first time. Sadly, even immortal goddesses could be slain—a prospect that had never been clearer as the outer gates had parted to welcome a spirit and a minion slipped free, racing toward her, hungry for living flesh.
She’d frozen, knowing her death was imminent.
The Guardian—what was his name?—had intervened, destroying the fiend with one swipe of his poisoned claw before it had made contact with her. He hadn’t spoken to her afterward, and she hadn’t spoken to him, her belief that he was like all the other creatures in this underworld shaken but not yet completely broken.
She’d begun to study him, though. Over time, she’d become fascinated by his complexities.
He was a destroyer, yet he’d saved her. He had nothing, yet he hadn’t asked for anything in exchange. How rare that was. How strange. How…welcome. She now wanted to do something for him. Anything, as she’d told him. And for one stolen moment, she’d thought he meant to request a kiss. His gaze had fallen to her lips, and lingered. Utter longing had radiated from him.
Please, she had almost begged. Her heart rate had sped up, her mouth had watered. What would he taste like? But then his expression had cleared, he had looked away and shaken his head. No.
Her disappointment had nearly felled her. Push him, however, she would not do. He’d already done so much for her. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder, hope…did he favor her in return? For that stolen moment, she would have sworn she saw white-hot flames in his eyes, flames that had nothing to do with the damned.
“Am I so boring you cannot grant me your attention after you summoned me? Twice.”
The question returned her to the present, and she could have slapped herself. Do you want to lose this match of wits with the prince of darkness? “Boring?” She shrugged. To say yes would be asking him to liven things up. To say no would be telling him she enjoyed him. In his mind, at least. Neither would end well for her.
Lucifer regarded her silently as he settled atop his throne. Instantly, swirling, ghostly souls began writhing between the bones and ash. A bejeweled goblet materialized, already clutched in his hand, and he sipped from it. A drop of crimson slid down the corner of his mouth and trickled onto his stark white shirt. Blood.
Revulsion besieged her, but she kept her expression neutral.
“You are disgusted by me but do not show it,” he said with another of those wicked smiles. “Where is the mouse who usually visits? The one who trembles and stumbles over her words? I like her better.”
Kadence raised her chin. He could call her all the names he wished, but she wouldn’t comment. “Your walls have been compromised, and a horde of demons fights to escape.”
The prince quickly lost his smile. “You lie. They would not dare.”
His agitation was understandable. Without his legions, he would have no one to rule. “You’re right. Your band of thieves, rapists and murderers would not dare disobey their sovereign.”
His eyes narrowed in a show of anger. One he quickly masked by shrugging casually. “So the walls are compromised. What do you expect me to do about it?”
She should not have been surprised. Always he made things difficult. “The Guardian. He can help me stop the ones responsible. But as you own his soul, he must first gain your permission.”
Lucifer snorted. “No. I will not grant it. Not for any reason. I like him where he is.”
Yes. Difficult. “Why?”
“I need a reason? Well, then. Let’s see. Let’s see.” He tapped his chin with a fingertip. “What about, my last guard fell victim to a demon’s lies and almost allowed a legion to escape.”
A lie of his own? The Guardian she knew had been here far longer than she, so she did not know if anyone else had ever stood in his place. “This one could just as easily fall.” Now that was a lie. No one was more determined. There would be no falling. Not for him.
“No.” Lucifer shook his head. “Geryon is impervious to their wiles.”
Geryon. Finally. A name. Greek in origin, meaning monster.
She didn’t like it.
He was more than his appearance. Far more.
“Nothing else to say?” Lucifer asked. “Shall we part, then?”
She barely stopped herself from running her tongue over her teeth. Was this a game he played? He needed the wall repaired as much as she did. Well, not as much as she did, she mused. Unlike her, he would not die if the wall crumbled. Still. His resistance grated.
With that thought, she answered her own question. Yes, this was a game. One she would not tolerate. “I am your sovereign,” she said. “You will—”
“You are not my sovereign,” he growled in another display of anger. Another display he quickly hid. A single breath in and out, and he visibly calmed. “You are my…observer. You watch, you advise and you protect, but you do not command.”
Because you are too weak, he did not say. But then, he didn’t have to. They both knew it was true.
She wanted to be different. Strong. She truly did. And she should have been. Once, she had been. Her very nature was one of subjugation, after all. For others, though, and not herself. Or that’s the way it had been. Why was she like this now?
You know the answer, and you would do well to forget it.
She squared her shoulders, realizing she would have to play Lucifer’s game, after all. There was no other way. You can do this. For Geryon. “I believe I offered to bargain with you, and you were amenable. Shall we begin?” she asked silkily.
He nodded, as if he’d merely been waiting for the question all along. “We shall.”
Gates of Hell
“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND,” Geryon said, refusing to leave his post. He even crossed his arms over his chest, an action that reminded him of his human days, when he’d been more than guard, more than monster. “Lucifer would never have agreed to release me from his…care.”
“I promise you, he agreed. You are free.” The goddess cast her gaze to her sandaled feet, saying no more on the subject. “Finally.”
Did she hide something? Plan to trick him, for whatever reason? It had been so long since he’d dealt with a female, he wasn’t sure how to judge her actions. Her, though, he wanted to believe. Anything and everything she said. And that was what scared him most.
She could destroy him and his poor heart. Or rather, what remained of it. If anything did.
She was paler than usual, he noted, the rosy glow in her cheeks gone, her freckles stark. Her golden ringlets tumbled down her shoulders and arms, and he could see soot woven throughout the fine strands. His hands ached to reach out, to sift those tresses through his fingers.
Would she run screaming if he did so? Probably.
Today she wore a violet robe and matching necklace—a necklace that boasted a teardrop amethyst as large as his fist and as bright as the glistening ice of his homeland. Ice he had not seen in hundreds of years. She had never worn such a thing before; usually she draped herself in white, an angel among evil, with no adornment.
“How?” he persisted. “Why?” And why do you look so sad?
“Does it matter?” Her gaze lifted, boring into him with the precision of a spear and cutting just as deep.
There was fury blended with her sadness. He did not like either. This female should only ever be happy. “To me, yes.” But only because it was necessary to his survival. Anything else, and he might have caved then and there. Given her whatever she desired. Even follow her into the fires behind him, as she’d first requested.
She gave a little stomp of her foot. “To save the wall, I need your help. Let that be enough of an answer for now. You know Lucifer would not want it to fall.” Her fingers beckoned him. “Come. See the damage that has been done on this side. See why I must cross over.”
The goddess did not await his reply. She turned away from him and walked to the far corner of the wall. No, not walked. She glided, a dream of falling stars amid shimmering twilight.
Why do you want to survive? What good does living do you? Geryon hesitated only a moment before following her, breathing deeply of her honeysuckle scent along the way.
To his surprise, no one jumped from the shadows as he walked; no one waited to punish him for daring to leave his post. Was he truly free? Dare he hope?
The goddess didn’t face him when he reached her, but traced a fingertip along a thin, jagged groove in the middle stone. A groove that branched into smaller striations, like tiny rivers flowing from a churning ocean.
“It’s small, I know, but already it has grown from what I saw yesterday. If the demons continue their abuse, it will continue to grow until the rock splits completely in two, allowing legions to enter the human realm.”
“Were a single demon released upon the unsuspecting world,” he muttered, “death and destruction would reign.” Whether or not a punishment would be delivered to him, he would help her, Geryon decided. He could not allow such a thing to happen. Innocence should never be taken from the undeserving. It was too precious.
“If I do this…If I help you…”
Still she didn’t face him. “Yes?” A breathy sigh.
“I will earn that boon? Whatever I desire?” How selfish he was to ask, he thought, but he did not take the words back.
“Yes.” No hesitation. Still breathy.
What did she think he would ask for? “Then so be it. I accept. I will lead you into Hell, goddess.”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE GODDESS GAVE A STARTLED gasp and flicked him the briefest of glances. “You’ll help me? Even knowing you are no longer bound to the prince? That you could leave?”
His chest constricted at that glimpse of starlight eyes and lush red lips. “Yes. Even knowing.” If she spoke true and he was free, he had no place to go. Too many centuries had passed, and his home was now gone. His family, dead. Without a doubt, he would cause riots with his appearance. Besides, he might crave the very freedom the goddess promised but he still feared trusting her. She might not intend malice, but Lucifer certainly would.
With the prince, there was always a catch. Free today did not necessarily mean free tomorrow. And since his soul had not been returned to him…
No, he dare not hope.
“Thank you. I didn’t expect—I—Why did you sell your soul?” she asked softly, tracing the crack again.
A change of subject. One he was not prepared for.
“What would you have me do?” he asked rather than answer. He did not wish to admit the reason for his folly and the subsequent humiliation.
Her arm dropped to her side, and she faced him fully. As his gaze drank her in, her expression softened. “I am Kadence,” she said, as though he had asked for her name rather than instruction.
Kadence. How he loved the way the syllables rolled through his mind, smooth as velvet—gods, how long since he’d touched a material so fine?—and sweet as wine. How long since he’d tasted such a drink?
“I am Geryon.” Once, he’d had a different name. Upon arriving here, however, Lucifer had given him his current moniker. Monster was the literal translation, but in truth it meant Guardian of the Damned, which was what he was and all he would ever be. Soul or not.
Some legends, a demon had once jeered at him, proclaimed him to be a three-headed centaur. Some, a vicious dog. Some, the leavings of a warrior named Hercules. Anything was better than the truth, however, so he did not mind the stories.
“I am yours to command,” he said, adding, “Kadence.” Tasted even better on his tongue.
Breath caught in her throat; he heard the hitch of it. “You say my name like a prayer.” There was no astonishment in her tone. Only…uncertainty?
Had he done so? “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Her cheeks flushed prettily. Then she clapped her hands and brought the conversation back to what should have been their primary concern. “Our first order of business is to patch those cracks.”
He nodded but said, “I fear the wall is already compromised.” Outer damage was fixable. But not inner. In walls or in immortals, he thought, thinking of the inner scars he must bare. “Patching will merely strengthen it for a time.” But might not prevent an eventual fall, he did not add.
What they would do then, he did not know. Chaos would reign. Souls and demons would be able to leave at will.
Something more would have to be done. But again, he did not know what.
“Yes. Knowing demons as I have come to, they will return and inflict more damage.” Once more she lifted her gaze to him, kernels of fear swirling where there should only be satisfaction. A crime. “Geryon,” she began, only to press her lush lips together.
