Lucifer's Bride [Complete]

81

    I scowl at the wall. Lilith is the last issue I want to work out right now. I've just had some great welcome-back make-up sex with my husband and recovered my crown from Leyna; I don't need superbitch ruining all my hard work. Without thinking, I let out an annoyed groan and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the sound of her stupid laugh.

"I know." Lucifer whispers as he strokes my back faster. "I'm not happy about it either. But it's something that has to be dealt with. She practically sacrificed you and turned her back on everyone here. That's an act that can't be forgiven or forgotten."

I nod and give him a small kiss on his shoulder. He's right: the sooner we do this, the sooner she's out of the way. Still, she's got to know Lucifer's pissed at her, and I know she'll try to pull some sleight of hand to weasel her way out of her punishment. I just hope he can see through her tricks and put her in her place.

Below me, my husband stirs. He lifts his hips and slides his body free of mine, leaving me feeling suddenly empty and hollow. Groaning, Lucifer gently rolls me off of him, pushing himself upright and tapping my shoulder. I sigh and mirror him, now severely unhappy about being superheated from him and at the thought of dealing with Lilith. He runs his fingers up my spine and kisses my shoulder, then slips off the bed onto the floor, bending down to scoop up the heap of fabric that is my gown. He holds it out in front of him, grinning like a fool.

I can't help but smile back. He's so childlike at times it's almost absurd. It's also very disarming, and it feels like his smile can break down any barrier I have and make me a thousand times more agreeable no matter how angry I am.

I roll my eyes and slip off the bed, making my way over to him. He spins the dress around and holds it open for me. I grip his shoulders and step into the dress, spinning around so he can lace it up. As he pulls the velvet ribbons tight, I look down and rediscover that every last chain on the front of my dress is gone. The last two were pulled apart during my tempting of Michael, leaving every single inch of my cleavage open to view. The front panels still cover a good portion of my chest, but very little is left to the imagination now.

"Tarioc!" Lucifer calls out as he laces me up.

Shit! Which one is that?

I flip through my Rolodex of high-ranking demons, hoping that this one isn't high in the chain of command and that I haven't missed meeting him. I'd hate to make an ass out of myself now by forgetting to properly greet a powerful demon.

Tarioc. Wait a minute...

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat and my heart screeching to a halt. Dear God, it's the creepy coachman! I almost collapse out of horror. That creature is living nightmare fuel, and Lucifer has just called him to our room. He'll be lucky to have me in the same room without cowering in the corner waiting for that fiend to leave.

A quick succession of knocks snaps me out of my inner panic. Lucifer calls our guest forward, finally lacing up the last inch of my dress. The door swings open and Tarioc – in all his horrifying glory – strides into the room. He's still wearing his tattered top hat and formal coattail jacket, and his eyes are still that disgusting color of swamp water. He saunters forward, having an almost pimp-like swagger to his step. His eyes find mine, and he gives a regal nod and smiles gently.

I barely keep myself from fainting.

Tarioc stops just feet away from Lucifer and I, executing a prefect bow and standing patiently for instructions. "Sire?"

"Tarioc, I need a favor," Lucifer's tone has switched from warm and loving to cold and commanding. "Fetch Lilith and bring her here. If she asks why, tell her it's about her betrayal of our world and her disregard for the queen's well-being. If she tries escaping, take her down."

Tarioc nods again. "Yes sir."

Lucifer places a hand on my shoulder. "Be careful, Tarioc. You know her. She'll try anything and everything to get out of facing her punishment. Take her alive if you can."

Tarioc bows. "Your will be done, sire."

He lifts his head and grins at me, showing two matching rows of rotten teeth and blackened gums. I fight the urge to vomit – this man is the living, breathing incarnation of meth-mouth. No wonder he's so highly respected here. He fits in perfectly.

His smile fades, then returns. He straightens and steps forward, reaching out so he can take my hand in his boil-covered hand. He lifts it to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on the back of my hand. On the outside, I look calm and compliant. On the inside, I'm screaming in revulsion.

He smiles softly at me. "Your majesty. I know my appearance is unbecoming, but I promise you that neither my flesh nor my soul will do your harm. I look this way as a punishment for my own faults, but doing damage to one so kind and fair is not in my nature. I am here to protect and serve you, mistress, not harm you."

In the span of thirty seconds, I've gone from reviling this creature to actually liking him. He's the epitome of never judging people by their looks. Behind his horrid eyes and crumbling skin is the soul of a man suffering in eternal pain for his mistakes. He's loyal and honest, doing our dirty work without a single complaint or thought. I'm amazed by him, and I now understand why Lucifer holds him in such high regards.

Well played, sir. I am impressed.