Page 101 of Endless Terrors
By the time I turned the water off, I almost believed it.
It took me hours to fall asleep, and when I did, I dreamed of him. I woke up and immediately took another shower, scrubbing at my skin as if I could scrub Lucifer away, too. As I lingered beneath the hot water, my mind turned to the night ahead. I was already rethinking my decision to attend Olorel. Lucifer might try to finish what we’d started last night, and after the way I had practically melted, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist him.
All my thoughts cut short when I reemerged from the bathroom and saw the gown draped across the foot of the bed. I slowed, knowing instantly who had sent it. My stomach gave a traitorous flutter. I approached and peered down at the devil’s gift.
I’d worn beautiful dresses before, but something about this one made the breath catch in my throat. I drew close and skimmed my fingers down the red bodice. Its texture was like a cross between ribbons and feathers, somehow.
If I were really trying to push Lucifer away, I’d cut this gown up and send it back to him.
Feeling restless, I moved away from the bed and perched on the padded stool before the vanity. The face looking back at me was frowning. Fixing my eyes firmly downward, I reached for the silver brush. As I started running it through my damp hair, I eyed the intimidating variety of powders. Maybe I’d give it a shot tonight. I didn’t possess a fraction of Laurie’s skill when it came to creating beautiful masks, but I’d picked up a few things from him.
I didn’t allow myself to wonder why I was trying so hard, or why I wanted to look good at all.
A while later, my hair drying around my shoulders in thick waves, I moved back over to the bed. As I dropped my towel, I glanced toward the glass wall automatically, but Narfu had drawn the curtains. Relaxing, I bent and picked up the gown. My eyebrows rose when I felt its weight.
God, this dress really was beautiful. I turned, holding it up to the firelight so I could see the intricate design better. Before my time at the Unseelie Court, I’d never been someone who gave a shit about clothes or presentation. But Laurie had shown me other uses for such things.
Giving in to a small rush of girlish excitement, I stepped into the skirt and shimmied it up my hips. Once I’d gotten every part in place, I stood in front of the mirror.
The bodice was stiff and tight, making my curves look more pronounced than usual. The material at the shoulders was shaped like flames, and the swirls curved over my collarbone and reached partway up the sides of my neck. The long sleeves were purple, and they clung to my arms like a second skin. In contrast, the skirt—a deep blue-green that made me think of the sea after the sun had gone down—flared dramatically, and it was somehow patterned and gossamer at the same time, allowing faint glimpses of my legs beneath. There was also a pair of heels on the floor, violently red and sharp enough to stab someone in the throat with.
At a party filled with demons and mad princes, shoes like that could come in handy.
I left the suite expecting to find Roger. He’d probably been given instructions to bring me to Lucifer, or take me downstairs.
Instead, I found the King of Hell.
He turned at the sound of my footsteps, and the sight of him made my breath catch, just for an instant. It should’ve been cheesy or clichéd, the devil dressed entirely in black. Unfortunately, there was nothing clichéd about how Lucifer looked. All of his striking features were heightened, somehow, by the dark suit. Even his vest and shirt were black. His thick, bright hair splayed over the collar, and his shoulders seemed more broad than usual.
“I am an immortal, and I speak dozens of languages,” Lucifer said, his voice soft, “and yet I can’t think of a single word to describe you, my lady.”
I couldn’t bring myself to mock him or roll my eyes. I took his proffered arm and kept my expression neutral. “Thank you. I … I like the dress.”
Lucifer’s eyes lit up, and he gave me a pleased smile. “I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit for it. I gave your description to a seamstress in the city, and she did the rest. Seeing you now, however, I don’t believe she was paid enough for her services. I’ll have to rectify that.”
Once again, we got onto the elevator together. But this time was different than all the others. Now, we’d tasted each other. I had given in to my desire for him, and it was pointless to pretend that I didn’t feel it. I didn’t look at Lucifer as we waited, not once. I was afraid to.
To my relief, our ride was short-lived. The elevator had barely moved before the doors were opening again. I wasn’t sure where I expected the celebration to be—the lobby, maybe, or the library, or one of the many floors I still hadn’t seen—but Lucifer led me to the atrium.
The moment we walked through the main set of doors, the waterfall appearing in front of us, I realized that I hadn’t looked through the curtains in my room for hours. Since last night, the space had been transformed. Musicians played amongst the big rocks at the far end. Lanterns were strewn overhead on thick, coarse-looking ropes. Rugs adorned the flagstones.
And there were figures everywhere. Some looked human in appearance, but most of them were so strange that it took effort not to stare. I forced myself to study their clothes instead. Seeing their gowns and suits reminded me of the Unseelie Court, purely for the chaotic variety of styles and eras. But it was even stranger seeing the fashions from my world in Hell.
The party must’ve been underway for a while, and we were fashionably late. The moment we entered, a ripple of awareness spread through the crowd. I half-expected someone to dramatically announce Lucifer’s arrival. Instead, he strode to the pool and stopped at the edge, where he faced his guests. I was still on his arm, and I felt dozens of eyes rake over me like hot coals. I resisted the urge to pull away and move out of sight. Without my power, I felt smaller. Vulnerable. I was a mouse in a den of vipers.
“We are here to acknowledge Olorel,” Lucifer said, his voice ringing out strong and clear. “Centuries ago, I made you all a promise, and I still intend to keep it. But tonight, we dance, we drink, and we fucking remember. To Olorel.”
“To Olorel,” everyone chorused, raising their glasses. There was a dark undertone in their voices I didn’t understand. Every expression I saw seemed solemn or tight. What promise was Lucifer talking about? I didn’t plan on asking him, since his dismissal in the elevator made it clear he didn’t want to discuss the real reason they acknowledged Olorel. Maybe he just didn’t want me to know. I scanned the atrium again, looking for anyone who seemed weak or drunk. If I couldn’t get any answers from the host, I’d find them elsewhere.
As soon as the toast was finished, three figures approached us. I recognized two of them—Samael, who I’d met in Lucifer’s office, and his sister Mammon. Although her hair was different, she looked exactly like her depiction in the dining room portrait. Severe features, an austere nose, thin lips that seemed curved in the ghost of a smile. Her gown was black lace, and it pooled dramatically on the floor, clinging to every curve on the way down.
The third was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Her hair hung to her waist in raven waves. She had a heart-shaped face, thick dark eyebrows, and red lips. Her gown wasn’t elaborate, or revealing in any way—it made me think of a slip. White, long, and thin. It should’ve washed out her creamy skin, but it only enhanced it. Almost as if she were glowing.
“Lady Sworn, I would like you to meet the Princess of the Third City, Lilith. She is one of the oldest souls in Hell, and the only mortal to ever rule here.”
Lilith turned her green eyes to me, and it felt as if I’d been pinned, like a butterfly to a board.
“Sworn. I know that name,” she murmured thoughtfully. Her voice made me think of honey. She searched my face, and then her own sharpened with realization. “Fortuna Sworn. Oh, the souls talk about you. Such passion. But some of them are angry. You have enemies here, child. Be on your guard.”
