Mating Fever by Susan Hayes
Carnage
Carnage didn’t let her out of bed for hours, or maybe it was days. Time moved differently in Purgatory, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything but Leta. Armageddon might have happened, and he wouldn’t notice, not when he had her in his arms and in his bed. She was his match in every way, keeping pace with his demands and making a few of her own. They rode each other to the heights of pleasure so many times he lost count before they finally drifted off into the dreamless sleep of sated exhaustion. It was the best sleep he’d had in centuries.
It was the acrid stench of brimstone and scorched wool that slammed him back to wakefulness. His eyes snapped open, and he looked around the room, well aware there was only one visitor who could get past his home’s defenses. “If that’s the smell of my rug being singed, I’m not going to be happy, Luc.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be snarling at me, Car. I sent you on a simple mission. Fetch. So why is it you’re here, sleeping, instead of getting me what I asked you for? Was I not fucking clear? Did you get confused by my instructions? Where the fuck is the girl?”
Carnage sat up and spotted a very angry Luc pacing the floor by his bed. The King of Hell had gone all out for this visit. He was sporting horns, tail, cloven hooves, and there was even a hint of smoke rising out of his ears. Oh yeah, His Highness royally was pissed.
“The girl is right here,” Leta said, tucking a sheet around her as she sat up and swept the dark fall of hair out of her eyes. “He did his job. He brought me to Hell.”
Fuck.
“Sweet cheeks, you’re not helping matters,” he muttered, reaching back to push her behind him, out of Luc’s sight.
Luc’s eyebrows rose, and the flames in his eyes burned brighter. “You banged my bounty, Fido? What part of my request that you bring her to me did you not understand? I even used small words to be sure you understood. Instead, you brought her to your place and fucked her, breaking rule number one in the process.”
Carnage frowned. “She’s in Hell, like you asked. The angels can’t get to her here, and I was bringing her to you eventually. And I didn’t break your rule, either. She doesn’t have wings.”
“Don’t try to play lawyer with me, mutt. I’m the patron saint of fucking lawyers and hair-splitters, you won’t win. Did you miss the part where I told you her mother was an angel? Of course she has wings.”
Luc turned his attention to Leta, and it was all Carnage could do not to growl at his liege for daring to look at his woman while she was naked. Fuck, he wasn’t just obsessed, he was becoming suicidal.
“Didn’t you show him your plumage, little bird? Or did you two skip the small talk and go straight to the main event?” Luc asked.
“Leta?” Car asked, a wealth of questions in that single word. His dick had been overriding his brain since Luc handed him the scrap of leather with her scent. He knew she was half angel, but somehow he hadn’t considered what that would mean. All he knew was that he wanted her, and he wasn’t used to denying himself the things he wanted.
Leta moved out from behind him, and he had to take a moment to admire her guts. She was naked and facing off against the Devil himself, but she was acting like it didn’t bother her a bit.
“I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. I don’t have wings. I can’t fly. I can’t do half of what my mother could, and I don’t have much control over my demon—I mean fallen, powers.”
Luc stopped pacing. “So, you still haven’t figured out what you’re capable of? Good. That’s very good. We need to talk, you and I. And you…” He pointed to Carnage. “Go back to the clubhouse. I’ll deal with you later.”
“No.” Car rose, naked, from the bed, putting himself between Lucifer and Leta. There was no way he was letting her go anywhere without him. He and his hound were in agreement on that. She was theirs, and not even Satan was taking her from them.
Luc clapped a hand over his eyes and swore. “For fuck’s sake, put some clothes on. And what do you mean, no? You don’t get to say that word to me. I own you, remember? Mind, body, and soul, for at least another two weeks.”
“Give her to me and you can keep my contract for another five hundred years.” The offer was out of his mouth before the thought was fully formed in his mind. It would be a small price to pay if it kept Leta alive and by his side.
Luc opened his mouth to speak, but before he could comment one way or another, Leta punched Car hard in the arm and interjected.
“Don’t you dare give up your freedom for me, asshole. That’s not your call to make!”
“It is my fucking call. You’re mine,” he snarled past his already lengthening fangs. His hound was challenging him for control, demanding they fight for what was theirs.
Leta shook her head. “No. I won’t let anyone else sacrifice themselves for me.”
“I’m not sacrificing anything, Leta. He already owns my soul, remember?”
She touched his arm almost in the same place she’d struck him only seconds before, but this time her fingers were gentle. “After my mother gave her life to save mine I swore I wouldn’t let anyone else do that for me. I already have to carry the weight of her sacrifice. Please, Alaric, don’t make me carry yours, too.”
Leta withdrew her hand and directed her next words to Lucifer. “I’ll go with you, Luc, or Lucifer, or Your Royal Evilness, whatever your preferred title is. I’ll go willingly, but you have to promise me you won’t punish Alaric. No one else gets hurt because of me. That’s the deal. If you don’t like it, then you might as well kill me now and get it over with.”
“No!” Car roared, but Luc was already nodding. The King of Hell snapped his fingers, and Carnage found himself standing in the sealed vault beneath the clubhouse, stark naked and with his last bellow of rage echoing off the walls. Worse, when he tried to teleport, nothing happened. He tried again, then again, but it was clear that his bastard liege had stripped him of that particular ability.
He had no way to get back to Leta. She was alone with Satan, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck
