Wrath of the Fallen by Eve Archer
Chapter Twenty-One
Dominick
I handed Rami a glass of Mastema’s finest cognac, reveling in the knowledge that I’d given us both enormous pours and almost drained his decanter. “You look like you need this.”
He took it from me without lifting his gaze from the darkened garden or straightening from where he leaned against the wrought iron balcony. “Was there another way?”
“To protect Ella and Sara?” I joined him in bracing my arms on the cool metal, holding my glass out in front of me between my entwined fingers. “No. Not unless Mastema had been willing to change the terms of the deal, which he wasn’t.”
Rami nodded. The prince of demons was not known for being agreeable or flexible. His terms were his terms—take them or leave them. Leaving them usually didn’t end well.
“She’s right to be worried,” I told him, glancing over my shoulder into the demon’s library, relieved to see that neither he nor Caspiel had entered the room yet. “Mastema is not to be trusted.”
Rami slugged back a gulp of cognac, gasping after he swallowed. “Yet here we are.”
I nodded, eyeing the amber liquid that looked nearly black in the darkness of night. The rest of dinner had gone quickly, with Ella excusing herself to look for Sara, and Rami wandering off for solace. After I’d ensured that Ella was with Sara and hovered outside Sara’s room to ascertain that no one was screaming or crying, I’d sought out Rami.
“I know we’re only fallen angels,” Rami said, “and many would consider that our embrace of hedonism and the pleasures of the flesh makes us more like demons than angels, but there is something unsettling about being inside the lair of the demon prince.”
I took a sip of my cognac, savoring the velvety burn of it as it slid down my throat. Rami was right. Being in Mastema’s lair—even though it appeared to be an opulent, French chateau—had awakened strange sensations in me. The heat which had been so oppressive when we arrived was now barely noticeable, and even the slightest glimpse of Ella’s bare skin stoked my desire to the point where my skin burned.
“You don’t think being here for as long as I’m pledged could demonize me, do you?”
Rami’s question gave me pause. I wanted to tell him no, but my own prickling skin made me hesitate. “Becoming a demon is a choice,” I finally said. “Mastema chose to give up his angelic form, just as we chose to disobey the celestial laws. None of us fell without deciding to fall.”
Rami loosed a long breath. “I would never choose another path but that of the Fallen.”
I rested a hand on his back. “Nor would I, brother.”
“Then my sudden desire that our dinner had been more well-cooked?” Rami asked.
I twisted to see that he was grinning in the moonlight. “An indication that at least you are not a vampire.”
Even though we joked about it, it was clear that the demon lair held power. I would be glad when we could leave its walls and when Rami could be released from Mastema’s service. I didn’t enjoy the feeling that I was adapting to the demon ways, although I didn’t mind the increased desire. I hadn’t thought it possible to be more aroused by my angelic human but seeing her in the black, lace gown earlier had made it almost impossible for me to get dressed myself, my rigid cock making it challenging to pull on my pants.
“You should talk to Sara,” I told Rami, once I’d cleared my mind of erotic thoughts of my mate and returned my attention to his predicament. “I know you have feelings for her, and that you believed this year would be a good way to nip it in the bud and keep her from getting hurt, but I’m afraid your charm worked too quickly, my friend. She’s already under your spell. Impressive, since you haven’t touched her.”
“What can I say?” Rami offered me a weak smile that didn’t manage to mask his internal torment. “I’ve had millennia of practice.”
Usually, it was Rami who was advising me, and I was reminded again how much I would miss his steady counsel and his devoted friendship. Only for a year, I reminded myself. A year was nothing for an immortal. But if that was so, why did it feel like I was tearing off one of my own limbs?
“I’m surprised to find you two here,” Mastema said, as he stepped onto the narrow balcony. “I thought you’d both be with your women.”
Not surprisingly, the demon was light on his feet, entering and crossing the room without either of us noticing. I glanced almost instinctively to see if he’d used his wings to be even stealthier, but there was no evidence of the black demon wings fanned out behind him.
“We were enjoying a drink and the view,” I said, the lie sliding effortlessly from my lips. We were only in his library because of the fallout from Mastema announcing Rami’s promised servitude. But I suspected the demon prince knew that—and relished the conflict he’d stoked.
Mastema joined us at the railing, his gaze sweeping across the walled garden and beyond to the twinkling lights of the capital city. “There is no place quite like Paris for a demon.”
“The City of Light?” Rami asked. “The City of Love?”
“What better place to foment pain and torment than a city that is so beautiful?” Mastema laughed, the low burr rumbling in the darkness like a waking beast. “They all think they should be happy and joyous in a city such as this, and when they aren’t—when life isn’t dappled with light and love—they become bitter. The perfect conduits for evil.”
I followed his gaze over the sparkling skyline, the Eiffel Tower rising above it all, and shivered at the thought of demons prowling the city and preying on the unloved. I wished there was another way to protect Ella than to align myself with the embodiment of evil. What chance did I have of redemption if I continued to hasten my own fall?
“My prince.” Caspiel stood behind us, his arrival also disturbingly silent.
We both turned along with Mastema, although Rami visibly stiffened at the sight of the demon who’d been overly attentive toward Sara.
“There is news?” Mastema asked, instantly registering the look on his deputy’s face and scowling in response.
Caspiel flicked a momentary glance at both me and Rami before giving his master a curt nod.
If I read the two demons correctly, the news wasn’t good.