Wrath of the Fallen by Eve Archer
Chapter Sixteen
Dominick
I stepped into the library, after reluctantly allowing Ella and Sara to be escorted down the hall. After seeing the ornate decor throughout the chateau, the extravagantly high ceilings, soaring bookshelves, and roaring fireplaces topped with massive marble mantles did not surprise me. The heat of the room—sweltering from the flaming logs burning at each of the room’s two fireplaces—did give me pause. It was summer in Paris, and the weather was warm, if not sticky. But this was a demon’s lair.
The scent of brimstone made me wonder exactly what Mastema was burning in the hearths, and I eyed the French doors that led onto small balconies, contemplating how soon I could escape the blistering heat that had sweat trickling down my back already.
Mastema strode over to a high wooden table against one wall, selecting a crystal decanter and popping out the stopper. The dancing flames of the fire caught in the etched sides of the glass and sent shards of colored light spiraling across the ceiling. “I must admit that it’s fascinating to watch you hover over the human,” he poured a few fingers of the amber liquid into three rocks glasses, “or should I say, the demi-angel?”
I stiffened, turning back toward the double doors leading back to the second story landing. They were pale green and inset with decorative panels much like the painted paneling in the room that alternated with soaring built-in bookshelves packed tightly with gilded leather volumes. All I needed to do was stride through those doors and away from the chateau, and I’d never need to worry about Mastema’s price.
As if he sensed my hesitation and desire to flee, Mastema glanced at the doors himself as he walked back across the room, his steps cushioned by the thick, Persian carpet. “Don’t worry. A demi-angel holds no appeal for me. Quite the opposite. The presence of such a pure, angelic creature is repellant for my kind.”
He pressed one of the glasses into my hand and then one into Rami’s.
“Ella repels you?” I said, remembering how he flinched when he touched her, and experiencing a flush of pleasure that she caused him actual physical discomfort. “You did a very good job of hiding it.”
He returned to the table for his own glass, downing a gulp. “I am a prince. I’m good at schooling my reactions.”
“She’s never affected the incubi and succubi like that.”
He gave a scoffing laugh. “The pleasure demons? They’re probably too busy imagining themselves fucking her to register the pain. She is a beautiful creature.”
Thatdidn’t make me feel any better.
“Is that why your demon attendant reacted strangely when he saw her?” Rami asked.
Mastema nodded. “It’s highly unusual for anyone other than a demon to enter our sacred lair, much less a demi-angel. I warned them, but she should not be alarmed if my demons shrink from her presence.”
Good, I thought. Having a girlfriend who naturally repelled demons was the best news I’d gotten all day. I took a sip of the liquor, surprised to find that it was a silky-smooth cognac that slid down my throat. If only it had done anything to cool me off, but the burn from the liquor only heated me more.
“Now the other woman,” Mastema said, smiling malevolently over the top of his glass at Rami. “She has no such effect on demons. As a matter of fact, I suspect she’ll be quite popular. My demons love a female with some fight and a wicked mouth.”
Rami scowled at the demon prince, the fingers curled around the chunky, crystal rocks glass turning white. “If any of them lay a hand—“
“No need to draw swords,” Mastema said, laughing as Rami’s face tightened. “My demons don’t take anything that isn’t freely given. I’m sure your woman has no reason to be tempted by my demons. Not even an incubus like Caspiel.”
I faltered as I raised my glass to my lips again. “You staff your lair with incubi?”
“Only for special occasions.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d forgotten that the prince of demons enjoyed his games. After all, tormenting others was right up the demon’s alley.
Rami slammed back his cognac, gasping after swallowing it. “You wished to talk about your terms, Mastema. You don’t want a war, so what do you want?”
“So, we’re done with the pleasantries so soon?” He drained his cognac and placed the glass on the table, the smile slipping from his face. “Fine. Let’s talk business, shall we?”
I put my glass down on an end table, backing away from the fire, in front of which the prince of demons positioned himself. No sweat ran down his face, even though it almost appeared he was standing in the fire, the orange flames dancing behind him.
Demons, I thought to myself, shaking my head and wondering—not for the first time that day—if I’d made a horrible miscalculation.
“I think you’d agree that protection for your demi-angel is valuable, correct?”
I folded my arms over my chest and nodded, bracing myself for his request. What could the demon possibly want from me in return if he already lived in a palace?
“My request is for something that you might not be willing to relinquish, but I only require the services for a year.”
Trepidation clawed at the base of my spine. “What services?”
“Despite what you might believe, Dominick,” Mastema turned to face the fire, gripping the mantle with his arms spread wide, “I admire what you and the Fallen have built. You’ve turned your adversity into an empire. I wish to do the same.”
I swept my gaze around the ostentatious library. “It seems like you’ve already done that. Your lair is…not what I expected.”
“But it is only one.” He spun back around. “You have mansions all over the world, and your decadent clubs are on every continent.”
“That doesn’t happen overnight,” I said, “or even in the span of a year.”
“But within the space of a year, the intricacies of such an empire could be taught.”
“You wish me to spend a year teaching you how to build an underworld empire to rival mine?” I shook my head, already preparing myself to reject his request. I hadn’t found Ella just to leave her, and I would never ask her to reside with demons for so long.
“Not you.” Mastema locked his gaze on Rami. “It’s Ramiel’s service I require.”
Rami and I both froze for a moment and then exchanged a look before laughing.
“You wish me to give you my top deputy?” I shook my head, already rejecting the idea. “So, he can teach you how to become my competition? Even if I agreed to it, Rami isn’t mine to give. He’s a fallen angel who can do as he pleases. Unlike you, Mastema, I don’t force my Fallen brethren into my service.”
“But you are their leader, are you not?” Mastema asked. “Ramiel does answer to you?”
“Only in that someone must be the figurehead.”
Mastema grinned maliciously. “And you were the one who led them astray.”
I flinched at this, but it was Rami who spoke. “We all willingly followed Dominick, and we all choose to work with him now.”
Mastema lifted his glass to Rami. “Your loyalty is honorable, but I don’t require loyalty. Only one year of service to pay for the protection you need.”
Although the demon prince’s tone was jovial and the smile had never left his face, there was a threat simmering under the surface of his words. Fire stoked in my core as I thought of my best friend being in servitude to the leader of demons. “And if I don’t agree to your deal?”
He walked from the fire to one set of French doors, throwing open both sides and letting a blast of air inside that strangely made the fires in the hearth blaze even higher. “You leave and keep running, although I think the angels will catch up to you sooner rather than later.”
I swallowed the sour taste of fear, knowing that he was right. “My Fallen will join us in the fight.”
Mastema nodded. “The last time there was an angel revolt, remind me how the fallen ones did.”
I gritted my teeth at his reference to Lucifer and his followers losing their battle in heaven and being cast down to rule over hell. “I’ll take my chances. Better that than sacrifice my friend to my enemy.”
Mastema locked eyes with me. “It is not I who is your enemy, Semyaza. Who is sending assassins, and who is offering you a lifeline?”
I hated to admit that it was the angels engaging in deceit and murder, and the demons playing fair. Drawing in a deep breath of the cool, night air, I eyed the well-dressed demon, recognizing more similarities with him than with my former celestial brethren, the archangels.
“I assure you that Ramiel will be treated as a valued member of my staff and compensated accordingly,” Mastema continued,“and I will not require him to divulge any information about the Fallen empire. Once the year is over—which is the beat of a butterfly’s wing to us immortals—he will be returned to you just as he was.” He gave Rami a wicked smirk. “Although I cannot guarantee he won’t have acquired a taste for succubi.”
“Your succubi are safe,” Rami said, “but I agree to your terms. I will work by your side in exchange for your promise to protect us and the women in our care.”
All the breath left me as I stared at my closest friend, disbelief muddling my thoughts. Rami had pledged himself to the prince of demons.
