Wrath of the Fallen by Eve Archer
Chapter Seventeen
Ella
“Do you always stare like this?” Sara asked, shooting a dark look at the demon who was escorting us down a hall that extended from the second story landing.
He smiled at her, unruffled by her sharp tone and even sharper glare. “It isn’t often we have a demi-angel grace the demon prince’s lair,” his eyes swept over Sara without hesitation, “or a human.”
I might have blushed under such scrutiny, but Sara only narrowed her eyes and flipped her black hair off her shoulder. “Well, get it out now, asshole, because if you stare at us like that around Dominick and Rami, you’re going to start a holy war.”
The swarthy demon behind us snorted, but the more polished, well-dressed demon smiled as if Sara hadn’t just insulted him. “Noted.”
We walked in silence, the ornate hallway seeming to go on forever as we turned and continued down another corridor, our procession of feet tapping on the marble floors.
“I don’t suppose either of you have names?” I finally asked.
The tall demon in the dark suit stopped in front of a set of double doors. “I am Caspiel.” He cut his eyes to Sara, letting them linger on her face for a beat. “This is your room.”
He opened the doors with a flourish, revealing an enormous suite with walls the color of robin’s eggs and a series of massive, glass balcony doors standing open that made it look like the trees were reaching inside the chateau. A four-poster bed was covered in an extravagantly embroidered, ivory duvet, and tufted chairs and settees were clustered around the foot of the bed to create a sitting area. Here the scent of char was considerably fainter, probably because of the open French doors.
Sara was obviously impressed by the room, although she merely nodded.
The demon took a couple of long strides across the hall to a pair of doors directly across from Sara’s. “And this is the room for you and Dominick.”
He opened the door and stepped back, allowing me to peer into the equally large and impressive suite. Like Sara’s room, it was dominated by huge, French doors that led onto balconies covered in scrolled, wrought iron railings. The pale-yellow walls made the natural light pouring into the room even brighter, although the tall trees outside created a leafy screen. The king-sized bed was covered in celadon-green silk, and a gold and crystal chandelier hung above it, although it was not lit.
“At least we’re within yelling distance,” Sara muttered to me as she came up behind me and peeked into my room.
“Your bags have been delivered and your clothes unpacked,” the demon said. “You have a while until dinner, but Mastema does prefer formal dress.”
“Formal?” Sara put a hand on her hip. “As in, you expect us to get dressed up like we’re in Downton Abbey?”
“Mastema thought you might not have packed evening wear, so the proper attire has been provided for you.” The demon let his gaze roam across Sara’s lithe figure. “I selected the gowns myself.”
Sara mumbled something insulting but I thanked him, hoping he was half as good at sizing as Gadriel was and maybe not a sadist when it came to women’s shoes. Although I was pretty sure women’s shoe designers were all demons, so I wasn’t holding out much hope.
After both demons had left us, the handsome one twisting his neck for a final glimpse before disappearing around the corner, Sara let out a breath. “This is not what I expected from a demon’s lair, but I’m not complaining.”
I felt the same way. Dominick’s palazzo in Venice had been stunning, and his yacht was gorgeous, but this place took opulent to a whole new level. A level I wasn’t sure was completely to my taste, but at least it wasn’t decked out in red and black and adorned with devil motifs. Aside from a few gargoyles posted at the top of the chateau, I hadn’t seen anything that screamed demon.
“I’m dying for a shower,” Sara said, scraping a hand through her hair. “I think the last time I bathed was before the party at the castle, and that feels like a week ago.”
It wasn’t, but I knew exactly how she felt. “Same. I swear I still have dust from the Lithostrotos on me.”
“And we’ve been on and off planes. Fancy, private ones, but it’s still plane grime.”
Sara lifted an eyebrow and lowered her voice. “You don’t think they have cameras in our rooms, do you?”
“Cameras?”
Sara glanced over her shoulder. “They’re demons. How do I know they’re not kinky?”
“I doubt that Mastema guy wants to piss off Dominick, even if he is the one doing us the favor.”
Sara nodded but didn’t look completely convinced as she backed up toward the open doors of her room. “I’m right across the hall if you need me.”
I watched her close her doors then I closed mine, turning and walking into the suite for the first time. Unlike the rest of the mansion, my room was cool. The fire in the fireplace wasn’t lit and a cool breeze wafted in from the French doors. I stepped out onto one of the balconies and ran my fingers across the cold, wrought iron railing, breathing in the fresh air and scanning the garden my room overlooked. Once again, the lush greenery and manicured flower beds were not what I would have expected from a demon’s lair, although the high, stone wall surrounding the perimeter did fit, as did the iron gates barring entrance to anyone not expressly invited.
I pivoted back around and walked back into the room, eager to explore more, and jumping when the double doors flew open. I immediately assumed it was Sara coming to tell me something she’d discovered, or to complain about the evening dress that had been selected for her.
It wasn’t Sara. It was Dominick—and he was fuming.
He stomped inside, barely glancing at me before throwing himself onto one of the tufted settees, upholstered in shiny, blue jacquard. “How could he do this?”
I put a hand to my throat, still catching my breath from his sudden and startling appearance. “What’s wrong? What did Mastema do?”
Dominick leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair. “It wasn’t Mastema. Not entirely.”
He leapt to his feet and paced a fast circle in front of the empty hearth before storming out onto one of the balconies. I followed him, rubbing a hand tentatively on his back. “What happened, Dominick?”
He sucked in a greedy lungful of air and blew it out, his shoulders drooping. “Rami.”
My hand faltered on his back. Rami? “Is he okay?”
Dom nodded, pressing his lips together, before heaving out another breath. “I can’t believe he agreed to it.”
I tried not to snap at him, but Dominick wasn’t making any sense and my patience was wearing thin. I straightened. “Are you going to tell me what happened or keep uttering things that don’t make any sense?”
He twisted to look at me, his expression agonized. “As you heard, Mastema doesn’t want to join forces to bring about the end of days. He wants something much less biblical.”
“Something that involves Rami?” I prodded.
“He wants to build an empire like mine, one that’s legitimate, and will give him power over more than just the demons. For that, he’s requested Rami’s assistance.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Better than an all-out war between angels and demons that would result in the end of the world.
“The deal is that Rami would serve as Mastema’s right hand man for the period of a year.”
My breath caught in my throat. So that’s why he was fuming. He would lose his best friend for a year—to the prince of demons. I imagined how I would feel if Sara was in Rami’s place, and my heart ached for Dominick.
“Does he have to accept?”
Dominick clenched his hands tightly around the iron railing. “If we want Mastema’s protection.”
Cold tendrils of regret curled around my stomach. This was because of me. Rami had to work for the prince of demons, and Dominick was losing his closest friend and business confidante, because they felt compelled to protect me. “And Rami agreed to it?”
“Without even discussing it with me,” Dominick growled, the raw pain rumbling beneath the rough surface of his voice. “Although I know he did it because we have little other choice.”
You could give me up, I thought, the whisper so quiet I easily pushed it away. Even though I despised myself for it, I remained quiet and wrapped my arms around Dominick. I didn’t want to think about how much he and Rami were sacrificing for me, or about how upset Sara would be when she learned that Rami had promised himself to the demon prince.
I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked all that out, even as the voice grew louder.
Give me up.