Devil of a Chance, page 4
Alron said he’d snag us some drinks and strode to the bar.
I glanced around the dimly lit space, grimacing at the neon lights of beer and liquor names covering the walls. A few pictures were scattered here and there, most of them depicting a large bear of a man with a long beard who I assumed was Hank. The table we sat at was sticky, and my lip twitched in disgust. I kept my hands curled in my lap while I sat back in my chair.
“What am I looking for?” I asked Heph. “That bartender Alron’s talking to is a guy, and I feel nothing from him but his sins.”
“Patience,” Heph replied. “Enjoy your first day back on the surface.”
“In the worst city possible.”
His eyes darkened. Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off when Alron returned with three beers. He joined us at the table and lifted his drink to me. “Cheers to freedom.”
“Nothing freeing about it,” I whispered and drained the hoppy beer in one go.
Heph and Alron talked about the city and how much it had changed over the years. I half-listened, too busy internally yelling at the voices in my head to shut up. They prattled on and on until I was digging my quickly lengthening claws into my thigh to stop myself from flipping the table in my rush to leave this place. I never should’ve left Hell. I never should’ve listened to Heph. Nothing about this trip to the surface was worth—
I sucked in a harsh breath at the formidable presence surrounding me like a swirling hot wind.
Wildly, I searched the bar, swearing Lucifer had to be here somewhere. Only he wasn’t. Heph and Alron had stopped talking, now watching me intently. They shifted in their chairs, clearly feeling what I did, but it didn’t appear to affect them as severely.
Blinking rapidly, I struggled to breathe, attempting to understand what I felt. Not Lucifer, but if not him, then who was putting off such an intense aura? The longer it pulsed around me, the more I realized how familiar it was. I’d been around this presence years ago.
A presence I believed I’d never feel again.
A woman’s voice rang out, followed by laughter that jolted me as if I’d been struck by lightning. I stiffened in my chair, zeroing in on where the sound came from. Across the room and standing behind the bar was a woman wearing a long-sleeve black shirt bearing a silver crow on the front. She was wiping down glasses. Her bright smile was fake, but it wasn’t her mouth I focused on. Those shimmering silver eyes, I’d only ever seen eyes that color on one other being.
Lucifer. Those were his eyes shining with such life and energy. Such power.
She turned, and I caught a glimpse of her silver-streaked black hair, half up, half down, and held back with a small black clip. When she spun around, I took in the soft curves of her cheeks, the dimple that appeared in her right one when she grinned. At her left temple was the tiniest mark shaped like a flame.
Her gaze wandered through the bar. When it settled on me, she went utterly still. Her cheeks turned red, and she swayed as if dizzy. She grabbed the counter in front of her, a question in those silver depths that glistened. She gave her head a shake and her gaze moved on.
For those few seconds, I hadn’t breathed. My body went numb, and I rose from my chair with the insane urge to rush to her side.
“Samazrael?” Heph whispered, grabbing my arm.
“It’s her,” I breathed. “She’s alive. How is she alive?”
“You’re certain?” Heph asked.
I growled, drawing the attention of the others in the bar. “How can you ask me that?”
“The last time you saw her, she was a baby in a crib,” he reminded me calmly.
“It’s her,” I stated through gritted teeth, confused by the storm of emotions bombarding my mind. Relief that she was alive was quickly followed by guilt, heartache, and a rage so fierce, it had me placing my hands flat on the table to stop myself from losing control. She was here, and she was alive. She didn’t appear to have been harmed either. How was this possible?
The voices inside my head that had been chattering about my failure shifted gears. Now, they were angry, right along with me. Hissing that this woman, Lucifer’s daughter I’d sworn to protect, was responsible for my years of torment.
I’d had plenty of time to contemplate what horrors might’ve befallen her. How she’d been killed along with the Fallen Angel, Dahlia, her mother. The horrors I’d conjured had been half the reason I refused to leave my cell, unsure of what anguish she’d been made to suffer at such a young age.
And yet there she stood, smiling and laughing as if she hadn’t suffered at all.
But I had. I’d suffered every minute of every day since coming to and finding her crib covered in blood and her gone.
“Have you told anyone else she’s here?” Heph asked Alron.
“No one. I wasn’t sure what to think at first.”
“How could you not realize who she is by her aura alone?” I demanded.
Alron’s forehead crinkled, and he shrugged. “Whatever you’re feeling must not be as strong for me. I sense power, but nothing of Hell. Honestly, it was her eyes I noticed first. Her aura wasn’t this noticeable a week ago. After what she did yesterday, though, it’s changed. And seeing your reaction,” he told me, “makes me believe it’s her. Ashmielle. Lost daughter of Lucifer.”
“What happened yesterday?” I asked, unable to look away from Ashmielle.
“Guy came in causing trouble. It looked like he was trying to get her to leave the bar. He went after the owner and the bouncer. She threw him clear across the room, burned a handprint into the bat she was holding at the time. Seemed pretty shocked by it all.”
“She doesn’t know who she is?” I asked, brow furrowing. “How?”
“No idea, but I bet it has something to do with why she turned up in a dive bar.” Alron stood and squeezed my shoulder. “Besides, it’s not my place to speak to her. It’s yours.”
“What?” I snapped, lowering my voice when I drew curious looks. “I can’t talk to her.”
“Why not? Lucifer assigned you to be her bodyguard the moment she was born. She might’ve been lost, but now she’s back. Your oath to protect her stands.” Alron gave me an encouraging smile, but all I did was glare right back at him. “She’s alive. You should be celebrating.”
My lip twitched, and I sat down, hunching over the table. No matter how much I wanted to argue with him, he was right. The oath I swore to Lucifer had not been broken as I’d thought. Not as if I could simply walk over there and take her to Hell, not if she had no idea who or what she was. Informing her of her lineage would take delicate work, finesse, something I was not good at, especially after what I’d been through.
The taunting voices bouncing around my skull reminded me of how unstable I’d become. How was I supposed to even uphold my oath if I lost what sliver of control I still had? She would be safer on her own with no one knowing who she was.
The moment I told her the truth and stepped into her life, she’d be in danger from those who might want to harm Lucifer’s daughter.
Alron and Heph left me at the bar after hanging around for an hour or so. They’d asked if I was going, but I hadn’t been able to tear myself away from the table. I’d peeled the label from the beer bottle a while ago, ripping it into tiny pieces while I listened to Ashmielle.
She sounded exactly as I’d imagined she would after she’d grown up. Closing my eyes, I tuned out the noise from the bar and focused only on her voice. The smokey timbre flowed over me like a soothing rain, easing the tension from my shoulders and the rest of my muscles. The laughter that came from her might’ve been without emotion, but that voice, I could listen to her speak all night long. I hadn’t heard anything sound so appealing in years. I stopped listening to the words, not caring what she said as long as she kept talking.
Her powerful aura pulsed through the bar. These humans were oblivious to it, but I wasn’t. Unlike Lucifer’s sharp emotions that had stabbed at me, hers pulsated like the beating of her heart. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower, but always there. I waited to sense her emotions as I did Lucifer’s, but they felt too far away to get a good read on. Was there a chance she did know who she was, and she was keeping everything held back so I wouldn’t sense her?
Does it matter? You should kill her, one of the voices whispered, breaking through the calm.
Why would I do that? I gave my oath to protect her.
Yeah, and because of it, you were tortured. Look at you. You’re nothing now. You’re barely a shadow of your former self. Pathetic and twisted. Weak. You’ll always be weak. Kill her and live your life for you. You know it’s what you really want.
A growl rumbled through my body, silencing the voice. I didn’t want to kill Ashmielle. I wouldn’t.
And yet, the idea was planted. How easy would it be for me to walk up to the bar and rip her throat out? If she didn’t know what she was, she didn’t know how to use the power surging through her veins. Demons were hard to kill, but we weren’t immortal. I dragged my claws across the table, seeing the moment play out in my mind. Easy, it would be so easy, and my suffering would finally be ended. I could disappear, live off the souls of humans. Never have to see Lucifer or Hell again.
A flash of Ashmielle’s dead body appeared in my mind’s eye. I jumped up from my chair at the same time a hand landed on my shoulder.
“Hey, sorry.” Ashmielle stood to my right, her hand hovering near my arm. “You seemed a bit out of it. You alright?”
Clenching my jaw, I nodded.
“Okay. Uh, the bar’s closing,” she told me, her silver eyes searching my face. A flush crept up her neck to her cheeks, and those silver eyes gave off a subtle glow. “You good to get yourself home, wherever home is? Hell, I guess. It’d be Hell, but if not, let me know if you need me to call you a cab.”
“Don’t need a cab,” I murmured.
“Right. Guess demons can’t get drunk.” She licked her lips. I watched the motion, the temperature in the bar rising. “Have a good night then.”
She made no move to walk away. Her aura pulsed faster around me, and I didn’t want to leave her side. How could I ever believe I could harm this woman? Her hand fell to my arm. Clarity, unlike any I’d experienced since the night of the attack, shot through me. The scars from my years of punishment remained, but they were dulled by the balm that was Ashmielle’s touch. The heat emanating from her palm would’ve been enough to burn a human. To me, it was a touch I longed to feel. I wasn’t the only one sensing a comforting strangeness from this moment judging by her wrinkled brow and her parted lips.
Too damn soon, she pulled her hand back, taking with it the relief from my shattered soul her presence brought me.
“Ashmielle,” she said roughly. Coughing, she held out her hand and repeated, “Ashmielle. Nice to meet you.”
I shook her hand, noting how she caught her tongue between her teeth at the contact, her face turning a darker shade of red. “Samazrael.”
“I hope this isn’t the only time you come here.”
“You bringing those dishes, girlie? Or what?” a gruff voice called from the back room. “Like to get home sometime tonight.”
Ashmielle yelled back, “Don’t get your panties in a twist.” She smirked and turned to me. “See you around, Samazrael.” She gathered up the empty bottles from my table, gave me one last curious glance, and hurried to the bar.
I took my chance and bolted, rushing out into the night, gasping for air until I was dizzy. Stumbling into an alley, I leaned against a brick wall. What just happened back there? Being able to feel her aura wasn’t what had thrown me. What she did to me, that’s what I didn’t understand. Rubbing a hand down my face, I strained to hold onto the calm she brought me, but it slipped from my grasp. I sank to the ground, clutching my head in my hands, shaking. The desire to rush back inside the bar to be near her forced me to my feet. I was halfway there before I realized what I was doing.
This wasn’t right. Nothing about this was. I couldn’t be the one to protect her, not in this unhinged state. One minute I wanted to protect her, and the next, I pictured her dead.
I don’t see the problem, the harsh voice said.
“Shut up,” I snarled. “Just shut up.”
Why should I? It’s what you want. Deep down, buried in the darkness of your soul, you know it’s true. Kill her, Samazrael, kill her and save yourself.
I shouted, burying my fist in the brick wall. The pain chased away the voice. My hand hurt like a bitch, but it’d heal.
I stalked down the alley and wove my way through the city until I was in the desert. I had no idea what my next move was. All I knew was I had to see Ashmielle again. Hopefully, a plan would come to me of how to proceed.
Until then, all I could do was pray I wouldn’t end up killing her.
Chapter 4
Ashmielle
Glass shattered, and I jumped, cursing. The pint glass I’d been attempting to put on a tray was now on the floor, its contents covering my legs and the rubber mat behind the bar. Carefully, I picked up the bigger shards, tossed them in the bin, and went to grab the dustpan and the small broom.
“What’s going on with you?” Hank asked, standing over me while I cleaned up the mess.
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s the third glass you’ve dropped. Tonight. I think it’s a record. Can’t even remember a time you broke anything in this place.”
I shrugged, then he was hauling me to my feet and giving me that damned concerned fatherly look of his.
“I’m alright, really. Just need a smoke break.” I shrugged again.
His eyes narrowed.
I scowled at him. “What? I said I was working on quitting. I am. Just not right now.”
“That shit will kill you.”
“Thanks, I had no idea,” I muttered sarcastically, and he crossed his arms. Cheeks burning, I gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Ever since that asshole was in here, I’ve felt off, you know? Keep waiting for him to come back. Him or the other ones. Haven’t been sleeping much either.”
“I told you to come crash at my place if you needed to.”
“I’m not going to put you out like that. Bad enough you see me here every single day,” I teased, trying to keep my tone light. “I’m good. Really.”
His huff said he didn’t believe me. I was saved by one of the regulars calling his name to get my attention. Hank helped me clean up the rest of my mess and let me be behind the bar. It wasn’t only the anxiety of that bastard returning to try and kidnap me that had me out of sorts.
It was the strange demon who showed up three nights ago and had been back every night since.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since our first encounter. Unlike with the demon from the other night, Samazrael’s presence did more than reach out to me. It had grabbed hold of me and yanked me entirely out of myself. For the first time in years, the anger that was always coiled and ready to lash out had diminished. Instead, I’d been caught off guard by the gentle touch of a hand brushing across my cheek. Everything about that caress was right. I felt grounded in who I was meant to be. With it came a fierce need to speak with the demon holding my gaze so steadily.
I never expected Samazrael to show back up, but he had. I hadn’t spoken to him anymore. Part of me said to go strike up a conversation. The other part wanted to see what he’d do it. If he’d eventually make his way to the bar to talk to me. That first night, he’d seemed so out of it, lost almost, until I’d touched his arm. Whatever fog had clouded his mind appeared to lift. I wasn’t even sure why I’d approached him in the first place. Usually, I let Zane get everyone moving toward the door. Yet something about Samazrael had said I needed to go over there.
What was weirder was for those few seconds, the emptiness that was an old friend to my anger disappeared. Comforting warmth filled me instead, as if Samazrael created a fire right inside my soul. The confusion on his face had matched what I felt until he blinked, and those sea-green eyes turned cold and distant. I’d meant to talk to him again after I dropped the dishes off in the back, except he’d left by the time I returned.
Not that I had to worry since he was here once again, sitting at the corner table. Even with my head down while I absently wiped the bar with a clean rag, I sensed him watching me. The first time I’d spotted him, he’d been with two other demons. One of those had been present when the fight broke out at the bar.
For the last few days, Samazrael had been sitting at the same damn table by himself, drinking beer into the night. Watching. Always just watching. He didn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t disturb anyone. Admittedly, his presence made me feel safer, not that I could explain why. The concern I had about a demon killing me for not being normal was no longer present. He hadn’t come here to murder me. I had no idea why he was here, but it wasn’t to see me dead.
Samazrael’s gaze continually shifted from that cold, distant look to one that was confused and even angry. Whatever he was going through, keeping a close eye on me was apparently more important. If that guy and his crew came back with Samazrael here, they’d be on their asses in a shot. My gut told me he wasn’t about to let anything happen to me.
I debated taking him a drink on the house simply to be close to him again.
Just stop while you’re ahead. Things are weird enough right now as it is, I told myself.
I’d been shaky ever since I saw my handprint burned into the bat, on edge. Every little sound made me jump out of my skin now, but it wasn’t just about the guy who tried to hurt Hank and me and actually did hurt Zane.
Something inside of me had changed.
I was restless, like something alive was rushing through my veins, wanting to get out. Sleeping was a struggle now, too. My dreams were so vivid, but all I ever saw was fire, its heat pressing in around me. I’d wait for the pain, but there never was any, even while the flames coursed over my body in endless waves of orange and red. A couple of times after I’d bolted awake, I swore I’d seen two faces staring back at me through the fire. One of them had been a woman. I thought it might be my mother, but her face was too obscured to see. The figure beside her had horns and massive wings that spread out wide behind them both.
