Devil of a Chance, page 12
She backed away, tripping over a table and chair that crumbled at her touch. “The fire. It was everywhere, and I couldn’t control it. Where’s Hank?” she asked again.
I hesitated, and she lost it. Her aura crackled around her while she howled like a wounded animal, clawing at the floor. She screamed for Hank over and over while I hauled her off the floor. She fought me, and I took her blows and her pain, dragging her through the wreckage of the bar. Her skin burned, and fire erupted at her feet.
“Control it,” I growled.
There was no response except another scream that blasted me into the wall.
Grunting, I pushed off it, and hoping she’d forgive me later, punched her. Her head flew back, and she collapsed in my arms.
Kill her, the voices screamed, startling me. Do it, do it now.
“I’m her protector, and I will keep her safe,” I snarled in reply.
You’ll fail again, the voices warned while I carried Ashmielle through the back of the bar and toward the portal that had remained open. You’ll fail, and then you’ll learn what real pain is. Lucifer will destroy you. He’ll tear your soul apart piece by piece. Ashmielle will be your downfall.
I paused, staring into her face.
Lucifer’s and Heph’s words returned to me. Frowning, I gently lifted Ashmielle in my arms and pressed my lips to her forehead.
“No, she’s going to be the reason I live,” I whispered, and the voices fell silent.
Bracing myself for how long the next few days were going to be, I walked through the portal, returning to Hell with Lucifer’s daughter, the way it always should’ve been.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Devil May Care, the next book in the Devil’s Own series!
Excerpt: Devil May Care
Devil’s Own Book Two
Ashmielle, the devil’s own daughter, has a power she can’t control. She needs training. Who else can help her but Samazrael, a demon who spent the last few decades in the ninth level of hell. And though Lucifer has released him from his incarceration, Samazrael has not released himself.
* * *
Now, Lucifer has a job for Samazrael. Train his daughter, Ashmielle and get her out of the underworld where too many would like to see to her end.
* * *
But taking her to the surface? Is that really the answer with the Demon Hunters in abundance and on the prowl?
Chapter 1
Ashmielle
The mug of tea between my palms had gone cold hours ago. How long had I been sitting on this couch? A night? Two? Shit, I wasn’t even sure what time it was. The sky outside the windows looked the same as it did when I came to. I’d awakened in the fortress where I’d first met Lucifer.
Samazrael had knocked me out when I’d started to lose it back at the bar. I’d expected to see Lucifer hovering over me when I came to. Instead, it was Samazrael and a demon named Cara. She’d been nice, assuring me that everything would be taken care of for my new living situation. I’d had no idea what she was talking about until I’d been coherent enough to remember I had no home on the surface. Hell was where I lived now, in Lucifer’s fortress, because I was his daughter.
I hated him. Hated this place. Hated the wing of rooms that were all mine. I wanted to set them on fire. The second I pictured flames appearing in my hands, I fumbled the mug, and it crashed to the stone floor, shattering into pieces. Sparks ignited at my fingertips. I gasped, shrinking into the couch and shaking my head. Someone was whispering the word “No” over and over again. I didn’t realize it was me until Samazrael appeared in front of me.
“It’s okay,” Samazrael said sternly, taking hold of my hands. Or trying to.
I yanked them away with a shout. “What are you doing?”
“You can’t burn me. You just need to calm down and take a deep breath.” His sea-green eyes gave off a subtle glow while he spoke. His lips kept moving, but the words were lost on me.
My whole body felt like it was somewhere else. A rushing filled my ears, and my vision blurred. I blinked, and I was back in Hank’s bar. Hank’s bar that I’d destroyed.
The bar where I’d killed him and Zane.
My stomach twisted, and the tea I drank was ready to come right back up. Shoving Samazrael out of the way, I bolted to the bathroom, which was big as my old apartment. I fell to my knees, hugging the toilet while I retched, breaking out in a cold sweat.
Steps sounded behind me, and I shook my head, trying to tell Samazrael to get away. The damn demon never listened to me. I sat back, glaring at him while he handed me a damp washcloth then stood in the doorway. His hands were tensed at his side, and the tic in his jaw started up the longer I held his stare.
I wanted him to go away. I wanted all of this to just go away, but it never would. Fury clawed its way through my abdomen, and I kicked the door shut in Samazrael’s face. The anger gave way to a numbing cold that left me shivering. Tears seeped down my cheeks, and I pulled my knees to my chest. What little I’d had in my life was gone.
And it was all Lucifer’s fault.
I never wanted to make fire again. I was a monster, nothing more than an unstable freak of nature. The moment I had in the throne room, feeling the two parts of me become one, was gone. There was no awesome unity inside me now—only terror at who I’d hurt next. Samazrael could tell me over and over that my fire couldn’t burn him, but that meant nothing. I remembered the outbursts I had. The fire might not burn his flesh away, but he still had to be in pain from absorbing those blows. I buried my face against my arms, wishing this were all a nightmare. I pinched my arm. The bathroom didn’t disappear, and I wasn’t back in Hank’s place.
This was real. All of it was real, which meant I did kill Hank. I killed them all.
Samazrael paced outside the door, then I heard him sit down. “You can’t stay in there forever,” his deep, growling voice called through the door. “What happened wasn’t your fault. None of this is.”
Sniffing hard, I lifted my head, glaring at the door. “Just go away.”
“Not going to happen.”
My head fell back to the wall. I wasn’t sure what else to say, so I let the silence stretch on. The cold intensified until my teeth chattered. Maybe this was it. Maybe somehow, I would put out my own fire and end it all right here and now. If only I was that lucky. More tears wetted my cheeks, and I scrunched my eyes shut, not willing to keep staring at my new home. I wrapped my arms tighter around my knees, but nothing I did chased away the icy chill eating away at me.
Not until my thoughts drifted to Samazrael.
Through the haze of hatred and fear, I sensed a pulsing heat that wasn’t coming from me. I focused on it, and bit by bit, the cold left my body. I imagined wings closing around me, protectively holding me to a chest filled with Hellfire that burned away the last of the ice trying to freeze me out.
Back at the bar, before the fighting had broken out, I’d felt Samazrael’s presence. I’d known he was going to burst through the front door. Just like then, I felt him through the door that separated us as if it weren’t there at all. Without knowing why I did it, I raised my hand and pressed it to the black, wooden surface. Shuffling came from the hallway, and warmth flooded my body a few seconds later.
He’d placed his hand exactly where mine was.
I shifted closer to the thin barrier, keeping my back to the wall and ensuring my hand stayed right where it was.
I wasn’t sure how long I was in the bathroom, but I eventually must’ve dozed off. When I opened my eyes again, I’d been moved to the living room and was lying on the couch. A grey blanket had been draped over me.
I didn’t have to look to know Samazrael was behind me, watching. His presence was a constant now, a warm touch against my back. I shut my eyes and drifted, thankful he hadn’t lain me on the bed in that damn bedroom. The first time I tried to sleep in there, the walls felt like they were closing in on me. I’d awakened screaming, thinking I was being crushed under the weight of my apartment building collapsing atop me.
Now, I slept on the couch.
The living area was nice and open because of its massive windows. And out here, Samazrael was comfortable staying in the same room as me. I hadn’t said it, and he didn’t ask, but he knew I didn’t want to be alone.
Trying not to think of anything at all, I let myself fall back to sleep.
Cara set a tray of food on the coffee table. She gave me an encouraging smile, but her brown eyes overflowed with sympathy and worry. She had on a cream sweater and black pants with knee-high black boots. Tattoos covered the backs of her hands, and she had a small flame beneath each of her eyes. Subconsciously, I pressed my fingers to the birthmark at my temple. At least now it made sense why it looked like a flame.
“You should eat,” she said, her tone mothering. “You need to get your strength up. At least drink something. Tea will be good for your stomach.”
I nodded, not really wanting any tea, but feeling terrible. Cara was in charge of, well, me, I guessed. Not the way Samazrael was, but she took care of my rooms and my day-to-day needs. I vaguely remembered being told that yesterday—or was it the day before? I couldn’t even remember how long I’d been in Hell. Had it been longer than a week? It couldn’t have been, right? Every day I was in a fog that wouldn’t go away. The only reason I hadn’t fallen entirely into the darkness wanting to consume me was Samazrael.
I glanced over my shoulder. He stood near the door leading to the rest of the fortress. His hand rested on the hilt of his dagger at his hip, right next to the short sword. My gaze drifted slowly higher, taking in the details of the twisting and jagged tattoos marking his arms, then higher to the ones on his neck. My fingers twitched, wanting to trace the intricate lines that reached all the way up to his chin. When our eyes met, that tic started in his jaw, and a burst of heat brushed against me as if his wings had drawn me against him.
“Ashmielle?”
“Huh?” I turned back, cheeks burning. Cara held out a mug of steaming tea to me. “Oh, uh, thanks.”
“You know, I can bring you just about anything,” she said. “Anything you might want from the surface. Food, clothes, whatever. You just have to ask. You’ll definitely be needing the clothes. Just tell me what you like, and I’ll see it gets put in your closet.”
I frowned at my long-sleeve shirt and black pants. “Never was one much for fashion. I don’t want you to go through too much trouble.”
“You’re a princess, the daughter of Lucifer,” she said, and a hot flash had the mug no longer feeling so warm compared to my skin. “I’m here to ensure you’re well looked after.”
“Yeah?” I muttered, glaring into the honey-colored tea starting to boil in the mug. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and pressure built in my back, at my fingertips, and my gums. “Why is it you care more about me than Lucifer does? Can you tell me that?” I ranted, setting the mug down hard, splashing hot tea all over my hand. My skin was so hot the drops boiled away in seconds. “I want Lucifer to march his ass over here and talk to me. Can you make that happen?”
Cara cringed, her gaze darting to Samazrael, then back to me. “I’m sorry he hasn’t been by. I’ve tried, but he’s been occupied with other matters.”
“Other matters,” I repeated. “He’s so thrilled to have his long-lost daughter back that he can’t even take the time to come and see me. To see how I’m doing after I… after I…” The words became stuck behind a lump of hatred for Lucifer and what he’d turned me into. I sucked in a breath, a sob threatening to rip from my chest. The room spun, and I no longer saw Cara.
The horror that happened at the bar dragged me back once again. The Demon Hunters were there, and they had Hank. I heard him yelling for me to get out of there. Then there was only heat and fire. I curled in on myself, sinking to the floor. Sparks flickered at my fingertips, and I cursed, closing my hands into tight fists to snuff them out.
Samazrael ordered Cara to leave then he was there, covering my hands with his larger ones.
“You have to stop doing this to yourself,” he said sternly.
I growled, my fangs protruding from my gums while I glared. “I killed the only father figure I ever knew. How am I supposed to just get over it? I murdered him. And this fire, I can’t control it,” I said, the words coming out shaky with my panic.
The sparks turned into tiny flames, and I shoved myself away from Samazrael, wanting to get as far away from him as I could. I scooted across the floor, wishing he wasn’t here to see this happen all over again. The fire stretched further up my arms, and I bit my lip so hard that blood filled my mouth. The fire continued to grow in strength while I watched in horror. How long until I killed someone else? It was not as if I could control what was inside me. The only time I was able to manifest any fire was when I was about to lose it.
Samazrael knelt in front of me, reaching for my hands a second time. I attempted to yank them away, but his grip turned to iron, his face set in a pained scowl that stilled me. “You have to talk to me,” he whispered harshly. “Tell me what you’re feeling. Embrace those emotions. The more you shove it down, the worse the fire is going to get. You can’t keep bottling it up and pretending it didn’t happen.”
“That’s what you think I’m doing?” I tugged on my hands, but he ended up dragging me closer to him instead. His sea-green eyes darkened, and a swirling storm of emotions reached out to touch me. I sighed at the immense heat from him fighting against the wildfire that had replaced the blood in my veins.
“You haven’t talked about it at all, and you need to.”
“What do you want me to say, huh?” I snapped. “What?”
“Whatever you need to say. Just talk to me. Let it out. I can take it.”
My head drooped to my chest, and I shut my eyes. I didn’t open up to people. What was the point? Mom had never been in a good enough state of mind to listen. Hank wouldn’t have been able to handle the whole truth about my life on the streets. For nine years, I pretended to be okay with my past. I told myself I was fine, that I was going to make it. Then everything turned to shit, and it was all because of me. I was the screw-up. I was the reason for so much misery. Me. No one else.
“My fault,” I whispered, not meaning to say anything, but the words slipped out as if Samazrael were dragging them from me with a rope. “All of it.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Samazrael insisted, and my head shot up while I snarled.
“Didn’t I? You have no idea what I’ve been through. None.”
“Then tell me,” he demanded. His thumbs rubbed the back of my hands. Did he even realize he was doing it or what that tiny gesture was doing to me? The subtle glow his eyes gave off and the constant rumbling coming from his chest said he felt precisely what I did right then. If he could feel it, then I shouldn’t have to say it. “No, don’t do that,” he said when I started to turn away.
“Do what?”
“Saying it makes it real. You need to say it.”
“I can’t,” I breathed, tears burning in my eyes.
Gently, his fingers held my chin and turned me back to face him. “Say it, all of it, whatever you’re running from. Get it all out. It’s the only way this gets better. Despite what you’ve been acting like this past week, I know you don’t want to rot away in this room.”
“It’d be better.”
His brow twitched, and his growl deepened. “You are not allowed to give up.”
“Why?” I shot back.
“Because I said so, now say it.”
“I murdered Hank,” I yelled in his face, and his eyes filled with sympathy, which only pissed me off more. I didn’t deserve it, not after what I’d done. “I murdered all of them. And before that, god, before that, my life was a mess, and you know why? It’s all because of me. Because I was born. My mother was sad and depressed all the time, and now I realize it was my fault. She had me, and something happened to make her leave. Or she was kidnapped or hell, I don’t freaking know, but it was bad.” The words tumbled out of me so fast, they left me gasping for air, growing light-headed when I couldn’t get enough in my lungs. I clung to Samazrael’s arms, the only thing stopping me from falling over. “She died trying to keep me alive, and then what do I do? I try to throw that life away. I didn’t want it. Didn’t think I could handle living anymore. I had no one for so long, and it’s all on me. All of it.”
The flames erupted with my final words, and angrily, I pushed Samazrael hard enough to get away from him. Scrambling to my feet, I rushed to put space between us, the fire rolling over my body in waves like water. The worst moments of my life played out on a reel inside my head. I smashed my hands to my temples, wanting it all to stop. I hadn’t thought life could get any more complicated, but it had. Lucifer must not have wanted to see me because, deep down, he hated me. Hated me for getting Mom killed and hated me for being weak.
Emotions I’d shoved aside since Samazrael brought me back to Hell exploded, dragging a scream from my mouth. The numbness and the fog were burned away until I was nothing but an exposed nerve, raw and in agony. I couldn’t take it. Ending it all seemed so much better now. I wanted the numbness back. The tears falling down my cheeks burned. I was crying fire, watching the drops fall to the floor and sizzle out. That’s all I was now, fire and destruction.
A whisper of a touch pushed through the flames coursing over me. I zeroed in on it, knowing it came from Samazrael. As much as I told myself not to let him get close, I needed him more than I needed air to breathe. Without him, I wouldn’t have survived this week.
I wouldn’t survive another day.
Samazrael’s hand reached through the fire and rested on my shoulder. His glowing eyes told me without words that he wasn’t going anywhere. “The fire is a part of you,” he whispered. “It does not control you because it is you.”
