Venari: Reigns of Hell

~ From Venari: Reigns of Hell.

~Book 2 of The 7 Plains of Hell Series

Chapter:

Again, there was a fierce recognition in those eyes, something she didn’t understand. Was it the beast recognizing one of its own or something more? She caught herself glancing back at the beast. For a moment, he returned her stare before once again turning his head in the direction from which they had come. Was this supposed to be another sign, another symbol emphasizing that she was supposed to be in Hell?

More walls rose around them, solid and soft. She stared in wonderment at everything about her. It was so utterly and bitterly beautiful. Dark red clay or brick, something different than the tar she had seen, made up the ground here.

The black stone began to morph as if the waves of heat were sweeping over it. It was like a frozen moment in time and space in this section of Hell. Talc covered the walls, while planks of cocobolo wood reached up from the ground and cascaded out into the hall. She wanted to shake her head in disbelief as her fingers tingled where she caressed the wall. It was the softest material she had ever touched. The soapstone was dark like a mixture of black and light green. There were no elaborate photos or furniture like your imagination would like for you to believe, there was just the long stretch of morphing hall and a lone door waiting at the end...was it to be the symbol of her fate again?

It felt like centuries were passing in the seconds that it took for them to reach the dark gothic looking door. The lintel of the frame was bent into an arch with a sharp point. The jamb was elongated as if it disappeared into the floor. More of the cocobolo made up the door frame. This shade was a glossier red compared to the darkness of the floor. Glass sidelights textured the door with waves that couldn’t be seen through, but the glow of fire behind the door still bled light around the door.

Chapter: The Devil’s Due

Her mind was whispering lies to her. She hadn’t known what to expect when those dark wooden doors had crested without being touched. Images of a big red beast covered in masses of muscles, and scat clothing, while huge horns crept out of its head like a bull laughed at her. Would there be a thick golden ring hanging from inside his nostrils? Would those eyes be like burning red embers? Would he have had hooves, or would he have more of a humanly shape? The chuckle startled her, but she continued to look around before she convinced her mind to look on at Lucifer, the Devil.

The runes lining the frame of the door began to glow a deep emerald tone distracting her as she passed through its sacred form. Her head whipped from side to side. The light of the runes amplified until her feet were over the threshold and then it was muted and quiet once more. Her body felt heavier, her stomach slightly fuller as if the child had leapt in growth just by her presence in Hell. Her hand resting on her stomach, she felt the silent gasp gaping from her open mouth until she looked upon his face.

Flaring, blazing, omniscient green eyes settled on her. There were a lot of unspoken words that she felt in that stare...recognition, challenging, anger, and power. Within a breath it was muted to her like she had walked straight into a wall. She stopped walking instantly. Strong lines ran on either side of his jaw; his eyebrows raising and falling quickly in curiosity. The child stilled inside of her stomach, while a shot of fear singed through her nerves. You will never have my son, she thought.

Once again, Eugen and Mortiferum were on either side of her. There will be no point, she reasoned, if I am to die; they will not be able to stop him. The hackles of the hound erect, while his body was slimmed and ready to pounce. She knew that Eugen’s face would be stoic, while she was unable to withhold her surprise and burning attraction to the devil. Lucifer’s focus shifted to Eugen and then to the Hell hound, before he bellowed, head falling back with laughter unashamed.

Shock was not something she had prepared herself for even as she stared at the Master of Hell, the Deceiver, and the Fallen One. Dressed in a tailored suit, fit to his form as if it were another skin. The white collar open and unbuttoned revealing toned, and sun kissed skin. Her body burned in response to his presence, and she wanted nothing more than to turn it off.

Her mind could go on and on for days with different titles and names that had been beseeched to Saetan, but none had ever fit the being much like Lucifer. Here she stood, frozen, afraid to move forward, and he was bellowing, almost bending with the laughter. His golden locks of hair reminded her of Derek, strangely, but his physique reminded her all too much of Eugen and the passion he shared with her.

That massive green stare swallowed her again. There was so much knowledge...so much conviction in that stare. She held her breath and threatened her own mind to remain blank. Jessica waited as the Devil took in the sights of her. Golden blonde hair, green eyes, a slim and toned body, and one bulging belly full of baby. She felt rooted in place as if his powers were forcing her to remain still, so he could admire her.

The feel of the air and the smells becoming much more apparent to her, made her want to lean into Eugen. The devil’s presence was making her body burn in unexpected places. Every feature of Lucifer’s face made her weak at the knees. He was an unfathomably gorgeous beauty, and he knew it. A sickly-sweet smile spread out from his lips, and she shuddered. No one would ever think that one could die from sex, but she almost imagined any nupta who would lie with Lucifer would die blissfully.

He leaned against his fireplace, legs crossed and amused as he had done when Eugen had come to retrieve the vial that had saved her life. The room still possessed the dark Amboyna desk, the deep golden and red rugs, and layers of fabric flowing elegantly against walls that should have never existed in time or space. Glittering above her head was a majestic rose gold chandelier, its branches flaring out like flames in the darkness. But nothing in this room compared to his beauty, and she hated herself for being attracted to him.

His smile continued, even as he pressed forward, sauntering towards his little band of misfits. Mortiferum began to growl; the only sound she could hear. She felt that power crashing down on top of them, rooting them all in place where they stood. The ground and walls trembled. Her fingers tingled while her blood boiled. His silk white shirt and black pants barely contained the animalistic feeling he possessed. Her mouth watered, even though she was dry for words. She had the shameful urge to bend down before him, but his powers held her where she stood.

A soft tendril of feeling like a finger whispering against her cheek forced goosebumps along her arms. Those dark burning green eyes fixated on her again, and all she could do was swallow any type of smart remark she had tried to come up with to help ease her tension. It would put a whole new meaning to being dragged kicking and screaming through Hell.

Reaching out with his right hand, he ran his fingers down the side of her cheek, his fingertips following the path of the imaginary fingers. Her body sighed into that touch, a weakness she assumed immediately she’d never escape. Though the feeling was pleasurable forcing her eyes to close in ecstasy, she did not want this. She didn’t want to be his concubine or his wife. She’d not wanted that choice on the 6th Plain of Hell, and she didn’t want that now. A snarling sound snapped the resolve and complacent nature that was the demon to its master.

Fire burned in her own eyes, an odd burning green light she had never noticed before, reflected in his eyes. Her anger was rising from somewhere deep within her soul. Her son shifted ever so slightly, his own feelings of annoyance protruding to her and intensifying her own. Lucifer was allowing her to see herself as he saw her; an untamed, inexperienced, and completely ignorant weapon. Amovere, he planted the word in her mind. You belong to me, nupta. You are my eliminator. And she didn’t have a clue what that meant. You have yet to even know your capabilities or who you truly are.

He released her chin and her gaze. Able to move, she bent over, her hands pressed against her knees, her stomach rubbing against her legs as a sickness settled inside. More feelings of anger swelled from her son. She could only silently tell him she would be alright. Finding her legs weak, she rose anyways, the burning fuel of memories of pain and agony forced an angry stare at the one who would have sliced her up and destroyed her. She would have been owned by the Devil. She forced her mind to remember the pain and loss of Mandy, the pain of the transformation, and the agony of the task she had been assigned. Her eyes flared with green light; her arms and fingers tingled once again.

He turned quickly, his attention zeroing in on her again, forcing her to jump and stand straight. “No,” His voice was like honey crippling her ability to remain angered, “I would never have destroyed you or Oleae, if she had simply revealed you to me at your birth.” His hands settled clasped behind his back, almost military style as he settled his weight back against his desk. His eyes spoke volumes. There was pain there...and there was a swarming mass of loss.

She felt the weight of truth in those damning words. Something she didn’t ever think he could do. Something that had never been fathomed. Would he have loved her? Was it even possible for him to love? He had been an archangel; it too could be possible that he could love and cherish. Those eyes spoke several different answers to her at once. I would have loved you; you would have been my prized daughter; you are my daughter; I have always loved you from afar.

She wanted to break down and cry. She was suffocating on the truth. Now she knew. The last puzzle piece slid into place. She could understand just a little more, but how did she know it was not all lies? Just as she knew she was demon...she had always known.

Pieces, fragments of information formed and shifted as the shattered puzzle pieces of her mind began to blend back together. He had always been there, always coaxing reminding her of her greatness, even as the world had tried to silence it and hush him out. He had pressed forward, that all knowing and soothing voice that had comforted her when she had cried, felt pain, felt anger, or revenge.

“Why did you send the demons to kill me?” She felt her face flush with blossoming accusations pilling up behind her eyes. “Why didn’t you take me back with you, teach me, care for me?” She accused. Eugen’s eyes flared wide. Mortiferum stared up at them.

“I offered, and you did not take it.” He spoke softly, his stature straightening as he checked his own anger in balance. “I offered you the trackers place, or to return to Hell with me; you denied me.”

“I wouldn’t have denied you, if you’d told me the truth!” She exclaimed. “And the others,” she asked.

“I did not send them to kill you.” She could tell the accusation hit a nerve. His dark green eyes were bright with light and anger at the accusation.

“You could have explained,” the words choked her.

His eyes softened as he stepped back into her small breath of space. His hand once again reaching out to cup her cheek as his thumb swiped at the tear that trickled from her eye. “It is never wise for me to seem weak before so many others that would strive to see me fall.” He spoke softly. His eyes held hers, begging for her to understand. “Allowing for the damned to know of your existence would have made you a target, more so than you already are. I could not have that. I could not risk losing you, again.”

His eyes softened as he stepped back into her small breath of space. His hand once again reaching out to cup her cheek as his thumb swiped at the tear that trickled from her eye. “It is never wise for me to seem weak before so many others that would strive to see me fall.” He spoke softly. His eyes held hers, begging for her to understand. “Allowing for the damned to know of your existence would have made you a target, more so than you already are. I could not have that. I could not risk losing you, again.” She had chosen to run because she had considered the outcome to be something else. She would have never thought or believed that she was the daughter of the devil. All this time, her whole life had been a lie, a fantasy, played out in a miserable game of chess. “Why did you save me?” The tears spilled over onto her cheeks.

“Why wouldn’t I save you?” There was conviction and pleading in his voice. His face softened, “I save you because I love you. You are my daughter, and I will never give permission to one of my sons to kill my daughter.” The word was singular, she realized; she was his only daughter. “Oleae lied to me,” he stepped away from them, turning his back. “She said you had been dead at birth; that she had been so ashamed with guilt, she had tossed you over the cliffs of the 7th Plain.” Her eyes narrowed. Everything was so surreal. “I searched for you, but I never found you. For twenty-five years, I had known of your existence, and yet I had to remain nonexistent to it.” Those glowing anger filled green eyes glued to her again. “Giving Parama to Eugen, only confirmed my suspicions. If you were truly my daughter, then you would live, and if you were not then the elixir would have smothered you from the inside out and she would have returned a body to me.”

His words were suffocating. Parama had known who and what she was the entire time...figures. That hound was more cynical than anyone she had ever encountered. There was a 7th Plain. Hell was not the 7th Plain; there was another Plain that no one knew about, or at least the jumpers and trackers had not known about. Her mother had lied, because she hadn’t known what he would do with the knowledge of a daughter, not just any daughter, but her. And he had searched for her. He hadn’t just ignored her existence. Like a tornado destructively tearing away the face of the earth, the skin of her fake human life was being ripped open.

“And now, you carry my Grandson, Draco. And a fine superare he will be.” There was pride in his eyes. His tidal wave of power slowly began to recede. She noticed the soft “tip, tap” of Mortiferum’s nails against the wood floor before he settled on his honchos. Eugen protectively wrapped his arms around her, and she welcomed the warmth of it. Her mind was a spinning funnel; a jig saw puzzle that was barely intact. Like pick up sticks, the pieces had been scattered about the floor, until someone had taken such care to lovingly place all the pieces back together.

“Draco will be a Master Demon,” Eugen whispered. He kissed the side of her neck. “There has only been one other Master Demon in the history of our kind.” His voice was heat and ecstasy to her skin. “And that child was never again found, until now, Love.”

Another emotion fluttered up from her son...pride, longing, happiness. The boy was a riveting swell of emotions for her, and she was rapidly taking in too much at one time. She had no possible way of knowing what she was capable of. She was a superare demon? What would that even mean? Would he be willing to teach her now? Would Lucifer be willing to train her? Would he love her?

The emotions swirled and collapsed against her mind, pouring out onto her cheeks. As Lucifer reached out to her, Eugen backed up, and she embraced him, taking in the smells and feel of her father. His arms were now steel wrapped protectively around her back and head, as he placed a soft kiss to her forehead. A breath shuttered through her as the tears swelled and tightened her throat. She wasn’t alone anymore. She wouldn’t have to fight for her identity or her place in the world. She had a throne to claim.

Her life had officially taken a three sixty dive into oblivion, and now she wouldn’t stop barreling through walls until she found all her answers. His love was strong and intoxicating. She would never fear his embrace again. It was home.

Venari: Reigns of Hell (The 7 Plains of Hell Book 2)