Wrath of the Fallen by Eve Archer

Chapter Fifteen

Ella

“This is a demon lair?” I put one hand over my eyes as I peered up at the opulent mansion. I might be new to the whole concept of angels and demons living among us, but the massive French chateau looked nothing like I imagined when I heard the words “demon” or “lair.”

Towering three stories above us, the building was constructed from ivory stone, with scrolling, wrought iron balconies fronting every high window. The top of the massive, iron front door was swagged by carved lion heads and floral garland, all hewn from the same ivory stone. Dormer windows lined the top floor with their points accented by more stone floral garland, and every bit of the chateau’s facade was embellished by animal heads or even what looked to be gargoyles.

Sara let out a low whistle as she stepped from the black limousine behind me. “Demons know how to live.”

Dominick grunted at her appraisal of the mansion, gripping my hand tighter. “Don’t be fooled by appearances.”

My friend eyed the handsome fallen angel holding my hand. “It’s a little too late for some people.”

Dominick made another noise in the back of his throat that told me what he thought of Sara’s opinions, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he led me up one side of the sweeping, stone stairs that led to the front door, Rami and Sara following us.

We hadn’t spoken about the decision to come to Paris on the plane ride, primarily because there wasn’t much to discuss. It had been clear we couldn’t stay in Jerusalem and that the archangels could find me easier than Dominick had expected. Neither he nor Rami had been pleased that the demon had been right about their options, but they weren’t foolish enough to deny the reality of the situation.

Dominick had killed the angel of death with Uriel’s sword. Even though I insisted that it mattered that he’d done it to defend me, he said it didn’t. Angels killing angels—even fallen ones—was forbidden, which meant he’d broken yet another heavenly law.

For an angel who’d been banished for so long, he seemed to take this further transgression hard, slumping into his seat on the plane and staring wordlessly from the window for the entire flight to France. Even Rami had appeared concerned by his friend’s quiet, shooting furtive glances at him during the flight when he thought the rest of us were sleeping.

I glanced at Dominick as we approached the entrance to the mansion. He seemed to have shaken off his earlier malaise, and his face wore his usual mask of power and control. His shoulders were squared, and his body hummed with tension. All normal, considering we were about to walk into the lair of the prince of demons.

The doors opened widely before we could use the heavy knocker, and a dark-haired demon stepped out. Unlike the demons I’d encountered before, this one wasn’t stocky and clad in black leather. He was muscular and tall, but his eyes were so pale they were almost unsettling. Like Dominick and Rami, he wore a dark suit that had obviously been tailored to him, and he looked more like a model than a demon prince. Not that I knew what a demon prince should look like.

“Dominick.” He nodded at Dom, and then his eyes slid quickly to me, his pupils flaring and making his eyes appear dark for a moment. “This must be the human everyone is so desirous to acquire.”

He took my hand before I could offer it, lowering his lips and brushing them across my fingertips. When his skin made contact with mine, he twitched visibly then looked up and gave me a predatory smile. “I can see the appeal.”

Dominick snatched my hand away, growling at demon. “Don’t think I won’t challenge you, Mastema. This might be your lair, but she is my mate.”

My hand burned where he’d touched it, and I rubbed the flesh as he tore his gaze from me, chuckling low.

“I have no intention of taking your human mate from you,” he said, “although I now understand why you are so drawn to her.”

Dominick bristled before glancing down at me and observing me rub the back of my hand. He returned his gaze to the demon prince. “Perhaps you should be grateful you didn’t burst into flames.”

Mastema laughed, arching his eyebrows. “As if that would be punishment.”

Stepping back, he ushered us inside with a languid flick of his wrist. “I’m glad you accepted my invitation. Surprised, but glad.”

The demon who’d approached us in Jerusalem skirted around us and slipped behind Mastema. “There was an added incentive to their acceptance.”

Mastema shifted a curious gaze at him, then at us. “That sounds like something I’ll enjoy hearing about over dinner.”

Dominick hesitated over the threshold. “You aren’t also hosting Lilith as your guest?”

The demon prince gave an easy smile, shaking his head. “She’s overseas on a special assignment for me. Plus, she realized that obsessing over a fallen angel was beneath her.” He cut his eyes to Dom. “No offense.”

Dominick gave him as effortless a smile. “None taken,” he summoned a breath and stepped into the chateau, pulling me with him, “but just because we agreed to stay here, doesn’t mean we need to dine—”

“You’re my honored guests.” Mastema cut off his protests. “Of course, you will all join me for dinner. I have an excellent French chef.” He glanced at Sara as she and Rami followed us inside, his expression alighting again with interest once again. “And I would be remiss if I didn’t show my lovely guests the best that Paris has to offer.”

I glanced at Sara, expecting her to respond with a snarky comment, but her mouth was hanging open as she took in the mansion’s foyer. Rising at least two stories high, the entryway to the house boasted black-and-white-checked marble floors and an enormous, gilded chandelier hanging from an embellished ceiling. The walls inside the structure were as decorative as the ones outside, with colorful murals and extravagant, gold crown molding. A staircase swept up and around to the second floor, the bannister ornate and gilded.

Despite the opulence, the interior carried the unmistakable scent of smoke, but not from cigarettes. It was as if we were walking into a burnt-out building instead of one that sparkled with gold and glass.

“We are only here because even the archangels won’t dare enter your lair,” Rami said.

Mastema shook his head as if he actually felt sympathy. “You Fallen certainly do end up on the wrong side of them, don’t you?”

“Come on, Mastema,” Dominick said gruffly. “You know what happened, and why we’re here. Don’t try to convince me that your envoys didn’t relay the incident in the old city to you already or that you haven’t heard the whispers about the disturbance in the celestial realm.”

Mastema sighed. “I’d hoped to hear the retelling at dinner, but you’re right. I do know about the battle in Jerusalem and that you slayed the angel of death.”

Dominick’s hand spasmed in mine. “Only because he carried the sword of Uriel.”

Mastema shook his head. “Desperate actions, indeed.”

“He was doing Gabriel’s bidding,” Dominick said, “just as you were not so long ago. Or have you already forgotten being the archangel’s pawn?”

Mastema angled his head, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I am no one’s pawn, which is why your mate still lives.”

I shrank closer to Dominick at the chill of the demon prince’s words.

“This was a mistake.” Dominick turned, jerking a head to Rami. “We’ll take our chances with the archangels.”

“Always the impetuous one,” Mastema said. “You might have ruled the Fallen for millennia, but you still need to learn temperance.”

Now Dominick barked out a laugh. “The leader of the demons is lecturing me on mitigating my temper?”

“Just because I rule evil on earth doesn’t mean I can’t control my own compulsions. It’s why I can rule the demons. I balance their hunger for rage with my dispassionate control.”

“So, you’re a sadist,” Sara said.

Mastema gave her a smile that made him appear even more devastatingly handsome. “All the best demons are.” He turned his charm back to Dominick. “Now, let’s show you to your rooms. I have offered the protection of my lair for you and those with you. I have no intention of harming you or letting any harm come to any of those under my watch. I strongly suggest you take my deal.”

Dominick held the demon’s gaze. “You understand that the angel Gabriel is the one who will be coming after us—he or his envoys.”

Mastema shrugged one shoulder as if this was of little consequence. “He is already displeased with me for refusing to capture the human for him. I can handle his disapproval.” His gaze went to me. “Can you?”

I cleared my throat. “I couldn’t care less what Gabe thinks of me.”

The corners of his mouth quirked. “Gabe? It isn’t every human who calls the angel Gabriel that.” His eyes flickered red for the briefest moment. “Then again, I hear you aren’t just any human.”

I didn’t answer him, but I lifted my chin, refusing to look away even though I felt my confidence withering under his intense gaze.

“I know you aren’t doing this from generosity or even curiosity,” Dominick said, pulling Mastema’s attention from me. “In exchange for protecting Ella, you want us to join you in a war against the angels.”

“That is part of it.”

“What more could you want?” Rami asked. “The demons and fallen angels against the angels would bring about the end of days.”

Mastema started walking up the stairs without looking backward. “Why would I want to bring about the final reckoning, when I rule the demons on earth? You really think I would give up all this to bring about the judgment that could send my minions—and me—into the fiery depths of hell?”

I glanced at Dominick, whose jaw was clenched. Hadn’t the demon who’d summoned us said as much?

“You emissary made us believe that was what you wished in return for your hospitality—the forces of the Fallen to join your demons in an end-all battle.”

Mastema paused on the stairs, his hand resting on the wrought iron bannister. “And you still came?” He shook his head and continued walking. “My demons are not always the best when it comes to conveying messages. All brawn and little brain, I’m afraid.”

Rami muttered something dark behind me, but the demon prince did not acknowledge it.

“So, you do not wish to bring about the final judgment?” Dominick said, as if he wanted to make sure he’d heard correctly.

Mastema reached the top of the staircase and a landing that opened up to tall sets of double doors circling the foyer. “I do not.”

He snapped his fingers, and two demons appeared from shadows that had not been there moments ago. One of them resembled the demon who’d approached us in the pilgrim guest house—thick-necked and scruffy. The other, however, wore a perfectly tailored suit like his boss, and was impeccably groomed, his dark hair swept back from his face. His gaze roamed across me, flickering surprise before he recoiled slightly. Then he eyed Sara, his eyes flaring with barely contained desire. I guess I really wasn’t his type.

“Then what do you require as compensation?” Rami asked, moving closer to Sara.

“Why don’t I discuss that with you two, while the women are shown to their rooms?”

When Dominick and Rami didn’t respond, Mastema glanced at his staff. “Unless you think your women are unsafe with my demons.”

“Please,” Sara scoffed, cutting her eyes to the two demons. “I’m from New York. I can handle your demons.”

The clean-cut demon gave her a wolfish grin. “I’m glad to hear it.”