Liora stared deep into the incredible swirling gold depths of Asmodeus’s eyes. She had countless reasons not to trust him, but she couldn’t bring herself to listen to them or her head where he was concerned.
The moment she had set eyes on him, loitering under the Eiffel Tower, looking as though he was contemplating tearing through the crowd with claw and fang, a current had run through her, setting her heart racing. She could sense the darkness in him, the incredible evil that flowed in his veins, but in the background, she could feel a faint glimmer of good. That tiny sliver had given her the courage to speak with him.
She had wanted to know him.
Her picture of him had been as incomplete as his armour before today. She had found out about him when she had overheard her cousin talking with Apollyon and they had realised she had been hiding in the hallway of their apartment, listening in. She had pressed Apollyon to tell her about Asmodeus.
Apollyon had painted a bleak picture of his counterpart, telling her that Asmodeus was pure evil, without a shred of good in him. Had he lied to her and to Serenity?
Liora looked at Asmodeus again, recalling how Apollyon often referred to him as a creature, as if he didn’t deserve angelic, demonic or even human status.
As if he were an animal.
Something below their level.
There was darkness in him, she couldn’t deny that or the fact that the evil he harboured had come to the surface at times and the strength of it had shocked her enough to make her reconsider her desire to know more about him.
He wasn’t an animal though.
She couldn’t view him like that. He was as real as Apollyon and her too.
He was intelligent, powerful, and felt warm beneath her fingers. She had caught the flickers of true emotions in him. He had been shocked, dismayed and even offended by her questions and her observations so far. Her behaviour had intrigued, and possibly confused him.
He felt things.
He wasn’t as Apollyon painted him at all. Did Apollyon really know Asmodeus?
Had he never witnessed this side of his twin?
It was likely that Asmodeus had never had reason to reveal this side of himself to Apollyon. They had probably ended up locked in battle whenever they had come across each other.
He had revealed it to her though. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that she liked it. She liked being around him and seeing how she affected him. It fascinated her.
“Rose?” The heavily-accented male voice jolted her and her heart skipped a beat, shock running through her blood at the sudden intrusion into her quiet moment with Asmodeus.
A young man offered a bunch of plastic-wrapped single red roses to her and then to Asmodeus and she lifted her hand from Asmodeus’s face, meaning to refuse the street vendor.
“Rose?” The man smiled at Asmodeus and then held his free hand out in her direction.
All Hell broke loose.
Asmodeus growled, his top lip peeling back to reveal short fangs, and her stomach turned. The rise in the flow of power he constantly emitted was swift and startling, a crushing force that pressed down on her. His hand shot out and he grasped the vendor by his throat, yanking him away from her.
Liora’s eyes flew wide as Asmodeus’s golden irises brightened and then turned red. Not a normal colour and she wasn’t sure he could hide that change with a glamour.
The man choked and dropped his roses. He smashed his hands against Asmodeus’s bare arm and clawed at his fingers. Asmodeus grinned, his eyes narrowing darkly on the man, and began to squeeze. The man gasped, his eyes watered, and the veins in his temples popped to the surface as he turned red.
Liora pushed through shocked and straight into horrified. She leaped between them, shoving Asmodeus back and seizing his arm that held the man at the same time. Asmodeus snarled when she sent fire to her palm, singeing his flesh, and pinned her with a black, vicious glare as he released the man.
The man collapsed onto the grass.
“I’m so sorry.” Liora dropped to her knees and tried to check him over but he swatted at her, his fear and panic spiking.
He scrambled around, grabbing his roses, and she tried to lay her hand on him so she could heal his throat, but he shoved her in the chest and caught her off balance. Her backside hit the dirt and she could only stare as he broke into a dead run in the opposite direction to her and Asmodeus, heading for the towering trees that lined the edges of the park.
The oppressive wave of Asmodeus’s power only grew worse and wind gusted against her, the longest of his black feathers appearing in the edges of her vision as he beat his wings. Hell, no. She was not about to let him fly after the innocent street vendor and terrorise him. Not on her watch.
Liora shot to her feet, turning at the same time, and threw everything she had into her swing. Her palm connected hard with his left cheek, the slap ringing loudly across the area and drawing more attention to them than Asmodeus had when he had attacked that poor man for no good reason.
His head snapped to his right, his wild black hair falling down over his brow. The dark slashes of his eyebrows met in a scowl and his jaw tensed as he growled.
“You deserved that.” Liora drew in a deep breath to steady her racing heart and hoped she hadn’t just pushed this immense, extremely powerful male over the edge. The force of the power he emanated wasn’t growing weaker. If anything, it was getting stronger, and darker.
His red eyes slowly opened and locked on her, and he rose to his full height, towering a good eight inches taller than she was. He spread his black wings and bared his fangs at her, and it took every ounce of her will to stop her from backing off a step. She stood her ground, her knees trembling, and reconsidered her whole opinion of Asmodeus.
He was evil and dangerous, and as violent and cruel as Apollyon had said.
But there was still good in him.
The red in his eyes faded as he stared down at her, his bare chest heaving with each deep breath, and his expression slowly changed at the same time as the pressing force of his power lessened. Gold broke through crimson, his eyebrows relaxed, his jaw slackened and his breathing slowed to a steady tempo.
“Never strike me again, Female.” Those words were a vicious growl that told her he was serious and that there would be a dire consequence if she ignored his warning.
“Noted.” She brushed imaginary lint off her black jeans, unable to bring herself to look at him while he was staring at her as if he was still considering punishing her for raising a hand against him. “You were being an arse though. He only wanted to make a couple of euro selling you a rose for me.”
He huffed. “Noted… I am not accustomed to people selling me anything.”
Liora tried not to smile inside at that. “Where have you been all your life that no one has ever tried to sell you anything?”
“In Hell.” His deadpan tone made her lift her gaze from her jeans to his to see if he was serious.
He had never looked more serious.
“You’re telling me you’ve never left Hell?” Liora knew she sounded a little backward having to ask that but she wanted to be sure she wasn’t mistaken.
He nodded and preened his huge black wings. “I have never left Hell before now.”
Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “Am I the first mortal you’ve met?”
He shook his head and kept his eyes downcast, his long black lashes shuttering them so she couldn’t read them at all. She didn’t need to see them in order to know why he was only offering her a shake of his head as a reply, rather than an explanation.
He had lived in Hell for his whole life. Any mortals he had met must have been taken there for some terrible reason and Asmodeus had been the one to deal with them, or had at least watched someone else do the work.
Liora looked him over, trying to see him for all that he was and telling herself all the terrible things he had probably done in the years he had been alive, in Hell, working for his master.
Apollyon had told her that Asmodeus shared his blood, and that he himself had been created for destruction and violence. If Apollyon had been brought into this world in order to rain destruction down upon mortals, and everyone could view him as good and kind, then she had to at least try to give Asmodeus the chance his twin had been offered.
She had to discover whether there was good in him or whether she had been imagining it.
“Would you have killed the street vendor if I hadn’t stopped you?” She managed to keep the tremble out of her voice as she asked, afraid of what his response would be because part of her already knew the answer to that question.
Asmodeus drew in a deep breath, his broad bare chest expanding with it, tipped his chin up and stared down at her, no trace of guilt in his eyes. “Yes.”
“Why?” She swallowed to wet her dry throat and shift the lump from it.
He had to have a reason. He wasn’t a mindless killing machine for the Devil, not like Apollyon said he was. She had seen his keen intelligence and his feelings playing out in his eyes. There was good in him. There was reasoning and calculation behind his every action. He had a reason for attacking the man. He had to have one.
Asmodeus lifted his hand between them, flexed his fingers and then lowered it back to his side. He stared off to his right, into the distance beyond her, and was quiet for so long that she feared he would never answer and she would never know the truth of him.
She wanted to see beyond the name and the stories, and the things she had been told, to the real Asmodeus. The one she had glimpsed earlier before he had locked it down and brought his guard back up.
He closed his eyes and lowered his head a fraction. “I thought he meant to harm you.”
Her hazel eyes widened.
Asmodeus frowned and clenched his fists at his sides. “I felt you tense and heard your heart jump, and your power flared. You were scared. I only meant to remove the source of your fear.”
He had been protecting her.
Liora glanced skywards to give herself a moment to absorb the revelation. This powerful male that everyone told her was cruel and evil, and had no good in him, had wanted to protect her. It was all the proof she needed that there was a sliver of good in him and it reinforced her desire to know more about him.
The sun was setting though and that meant more rose sellers and people around the Eiffel Tower to see it as it lit up. If she wanted to continue her time with Asmodeus, she would need to take him somewhere it would get quieter, not busier.
She dropped her gaze to his. “Will you fly me somewhere?”
He looked beautifully startled, his eyes going round and falling to her body. A touch of colour crept onto his cheeks and his pupils expanded, gobbling up the gold in his irises. Was he thinking about carrying her when he looked so flushed with desire?
A warm shiver raced through her blood and she swept her tongue across her lips, not even bothering to deny that she felt that same burst of desire whenever she raked her gaze over him, even when she knew she shouldn’t.
He nodded. “Where?”
Liora turned and pointed towards the basilica of Sacré-Coeur where it stood on the hill in the distance, the three white domes of the grand church illuminated by golden light. “There. It will get quieter there as night falls.”
His throat worked on a hard swallow and he opened his thickly muscled arms to her. “I will fly you there.”
Liora slipped the strap of her small black bag over her shoulder so it fell across her front and took a deep breath as she stepped into his arms. Serenity was going to kill her for this but she didn’t care. Something about Asmodeus had her going against convention and everything she knew she should do. She felt a connection between them, a link she had never experienced with another, and she felt as if she could be wild and free around him and he would never judge her or tell her what to do.
He would let her be herself.
He would be right there with her.
He dipped his body, slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, and effortlessly lifted her into his arms. She settled her right palm against his chest and stared into his eyes. They were even more beautiful up close.
Flecks of black and rich amber swirled amongst liquid gold. His heart thundered against her palm and his breathing quickened as she continued to look deep into his eyes.
Awareness grew within her, stealing her focus away from the world until it was all settled on him. She could feel his large hands pressed into her ribs and clutching her knee. She could feel his powerful body pressing against her side, shifting with each heavy breath. Each of those breaths washed over her, moist and sweet, bringing her heart to a gallop.
His power flowed around her, a protective shield that allowed hers to recede for the first time in what felt like forever.
She had never felt so safe, not since her parents had died.
Asmodeus would protect her.
Her gaze drifted down the straight slope of his nose to the firm line of his lips, and they parted to reveal blunt white teeth.
“Hold on,” he murmured, his deep husky voice sending a shiver of heat across her skin, and she couldn’t resist snaking her hands around his strong neck and teasing the ends of his short black hair. He gritted his teeth, his jaw tensing, and a quiet growl escaped him.
His fingers flexed against her, drawing her closer, and she felt wicked because she liked how he clutched her as if he was never going to let her go.
She was playing with fire.
The Hell kind.
The problem was, she didn’t care if she got burned.
Asmodeus spread his glossy black wings, bent at the knee and pushed off. She clung to him for a whole different reason as each powerful beat of his wings carried them higher into the warm evening air. She hadn’t exactly thought about what she was asking.
Flying had sounded charming and fascinating. Now it was beginning to look frightening.
It was already a long drop to a very painful death.
“You will not fall, Liora,” Asmodeus whispered against her ear and she melted in his arms.
Someone so evil shouldn’t have a voice that could do wicked things to a woman like his did.
Or perhaps it was perfect for him, made for seducing and getting his way.
Was he a seducer?
She drew back to look at him and his grip on her tightened, his scowl re-emerging at the same time. His golden gaze shifted to her and then back to the distance. She studied his face as he flew, trying to figure him out by replaying everything that had happened. He had never left Hell but he had met mortals, and there were plenty of demons who looked human. She didn’t think there was a Mrs Asmodeus waiting for him back in Hell though.
She had made him blush by touching his cheek, had sparked desire by touching his sword, and had caught the passion that flared in his eyes whenever he looked at her.
He didn’t have a steady relationship but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a seducer. He could be playing her right now, performing perfectly to lure her in with practiced reactions designed to get him what he wanted from a woman.
“Why do you stare at me?” Asmodeus said and she tapped into her power, channelling it into him in the hope of discovering whether his awkwardness was real or an act.
She could sense no falseness in him. Her staring genuinely confused him.
“I’m trying to figure you out.” There was no point in hiding her intentions. The more honest she was with him, the more liable he was to be honest with her.
“And?” A playful edge entered his eyes and she wasn’t surprised to find the corners of his lips curling into a wicked smile.
“I’m getting nowhere.” She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her gaze on him. “Are you evil?”
“Yes.”
A very blunt and honest answer. “Evil because everyone expects you to be evil… or because you really are that way?”
He frowned at her and then switched his focus back to the skies ahead of him. “I was born evil.”
“I know the story,” she said and he flicked another glance at her, a touch of surprise in his eyes now. “You’re everything evil in Apollyon… blah, blah, blah… but I’m not convinced that you’re only evil.”
His golden eyes darkened and crimson edged them. She was pushing his buttons again. He didn’t like her mentioning Apollyon or comparing them in any way. She could understand why. She hated it whenever her coven mentioned how she should strive to be more like Serenity—all good and graceful. Serenity had never lived through hell as she had. Serenity had no reason to have darkness and hatred inside her.
Liora looked down as he glided around the top of the beautiful white domes of the church of Sacré-Coeur with her and then brought them down in the square below. She expected at least a bump as they landed, but it was smoother than any touch down she had ever experienced.
He carried her to the iron fence edging the square and stared out over the city. Dusk turned the elegant stone buildings and the ribbon of the river pink and gold, making them more beautiful than ever.
Asmodeus gently set her down.
“You’ve really never left Hell?” she said while watching him absorb the view of the city with wide eyes.
He looked like a man who had never witnessed such a view. She had asked Apollyon about Hell. His answer had been that it was black and grim, and that the only colours in the bleak landscape were the boiling rivers of lava.
“Never.” Asmodeus narrowed his golden gaze and shifted it down to her. “Have you ever left the mortal realm?”
She shook her head, the loose tangled waves of her chestnut hair brushing her shoulders. “Never… what’s it like where you live?”
“I have a castle I built.”
“A home.” She looked out over the city, enjoying the view even though she had come here often during the first two weeks into her stay with Serenity and Apollyon. It was nice to escape them sometimes, finding her own space so she could think and be herself.
“I do not think of it as a home.”
Liora frowned and looked across at him. He stood with his profile to her, his eyes drifting over the city, the sinking sun bringing out their colour but not warming them. They were cold and empty again. Where had his thoughts taken him?
The more she looked at him and thought about what he had said, the more she felt he was lonely but didn’t realise it. He had never left Hell and he refused to view his castle as his home.
Did he have no love and light in his life?
“So what are your friends like? Are they all bad-ass demons or are you mates with the Devil?”
Asmodeus’s gaze locked on a distant point and then flicked straight to her. “I have none.”
He had no friends.
He had no home.
What sort of lonely life was he leading in Hell? She was beginning to wonder how there was even a sliver of good in him. He had no reason to feel that or any positive emotions at all.
Liora placed her hand over his on the black metal railing and he looked down at them, his eyes slowly widening in that way that made her feel that there was something about Asmodeus that would surprise everyone who saw him if they knew about it.
He had always been alone.
No one had ever shown him compassion or care.
No one had ever touched him like this, as a friend would, offering comfort and support.
He was a clone of Apollyon, everything evil distilled into its purest and most vicious form, but he was a product of his environment too.
He had been starved of good and driven to do bad. He had never been given a chance to be anything else. The Devil had moulded him into this man before her and for some reason she wanted to be the one to show the world that they were wrong about Asmodeus, and he could be something more than they believed him to be.
“Do you have no companions at all?” She looked up into his eyes, her eyebrows furrowed and a tiny flicker of hope in her heart.
He lifted his gaze to lock with hers and his thumb brushed hers, causing her heart to leap and race.
He swallowed hard and hesitated, and she thought he wouldn’t answer as he averted his gaze, fixing it far below them at the base of the hill and the street there. His eyes tracked something, turning distant at the same time. She looked down and frowned when she saw an old woman walking two miniature poodles.
“I have Romulus and Remus,” he said in a gruff voice and she raised her eyes back to his. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “They are not quite like those canines. Hellhounds are larger, and live far longer.”
He had dogs. Companions. Hellhounds were an evil angel’s best friends.
“What are they like?” She couldn’t picture hellhounds at all. Images of Cerberus, the three-headed hound sprang into her mind. “Do they only have one head?”
He smiled and her heart lifted at the sight of it and the way the cold edge left his golden eyes. “Yes, they only have one head. They are black and very large, coming to stand with their shoulders around here.”
He held his hand palm down just above his hip and Liora’s gaze disobeyed her direct command and drifted across to the taut ripped muscles of his stomach and the sexy dip of his navel, and the dusting of dark hair that led her eyes downwards. Her pulse picked up again and it took all of her will to drag her gaze back to his hand.
It was trembling.
Her eyes shot up to his and he looked away again, but she caught the flicker of desire that still darkened his gaze.
“What do they look like? Are they hairy?” Curse her voice for shaking. She had been around men she felt attracted to before and had never reacted like this whenever they had flirted with her or shown their interest. She sidled closer to Asmodeus and butted her hand up against his to measure their height against her own body.
According to his measurements, these hellhounds would reach shoulder height on her if she included a modest addition for their heads.
“Hell is hot and rather filled with fire. Hair is not a good thing in that sort of environment. They are shorthaired and somewhat resemble a canine of this world… a Great Dane. Do you know of it?”
“Scooby Doo? You have demonic Scooby Doos?”
“Scooby Doo?” He frowned. “I am not familiar with this Scooby Doo.”
“He’s a cartoon… like moving drawings with sound.” She wasn’t sure he knew what a cartoon was. She doubted you could pick up satellite or cable in Hell. “But he’s brown. The right breed though…”
She measured Asmodeus’s guide height against her again.
“I’m guessing yours are bigger than our version.” She waved her hand around the height she imagined them to be.
“And broader… and they have red eyes.”
“I could have guessed.” She really could have. It didn’t surprise her at all. Even Asmodeus had red eyes whenever he was losing his temper.
When coupled with the way she could feel his power rising or ebbing with his emotions, she had a barometer for Asmodeus.
At least she could tell when he was about to unleash Hell on the poor unsuspecting population of Paris.
“And I can talk to them.”
That, she hadn’t guessed possible. “They talk?”
Asmodeus casually shrugged, causing his black wings to shift against his bare back. “They communicate with each other in their own language using telepathy, but I do not have that ability so I have taught them to understand me and I can understand their responses. They are clever creatures and picked up an understanding of the demonic language quickly.”
So he could communicate with his two hellhounds. Romulus and Remus. Who no doubt lived at the castle that wasn’t a home.
Something came back to her, something she had heard Apollyon say to Serenity when she had been listening in on them and Serenity had asked why Asmodeus had given him information he could use against the Devil.
Asmodeus was complicated.
Liora stared at him.
Complicated and gorgeous, and she wanted to unravel the mystery that he wore like a protective cloak.
She wouldn’t stop until she knew the truth of Asmodeus.
Until she knew the real him.
The one he was fighting to hide from her.