Page 15 of Signed in Blood

He stalks closer to me, as I remain on all fours. It’s such a submissive position, such a vulnerable state, but there I am. At the devil’s mercy, blinded by him, letting him lead me into this temptation of what will grant me peace. I do want vengeance, I just don’t want it to make me evil in the process.

I’m still as he crouches in front of me and captures my chin with his hand. His touch is soothing, his scent undeniably seductive. Everything about him is enchanting.

The devil should be terrifying, but he…he does something else to me.

My heart rate lows and the flames behind him blur into nothing as he whispers, his lips so close to mine, “I can give you revenge. Is that what you want?”

Cautiously, I nod.

“No, I need to hear you say it.”

Trying to find my voice, I speak with conviction. “Yes.”

His wicked gaze widens as a smirk appears on his lips. “What kind of revenge?”

Focusing on the blaze in his eyes, I don’t hesitate this time, spewing, “I want them dead. I want to kill them. I want to make them suffer.”

Chapter Eight

Lucifer

* * *

As desire for revenge simmers in her blood, I snap my fingers, bringing us to my luxurious den.

I designed it with her visions in mind. Of seduction. Desire. And a comfortable place where I can hide her away. Where she can be safe in her thoughts and the idea of what “hell” is can be challenged.

The Hall of Placement was a safe option for when she woke, but I much prefer to spoil her and show her riches she could have if only she’d agree to my proposal.

The floor is made of planks of dark wood from the ancient lands and the fireplace across from the bed is lit as I stare at the grate, willing it to bring the flames to life.

A bookshelf made of black stained wood lines the far wall. Wingback chairs sit across from one another on either side of the wall with a sleek slab of obsidian coffee table between them. Across from the seating area sits a counter-height bar with stools to section off the room. And on the other side of the bar, a black velvet settee sits in front of the fire.

Apart from the bookshelf, which is filled with ancient texts on rituals and magic, the space is relatively minimalistic. Decadent, yes, but not too overdone.

Between the dark brown, black, and burgundy, the room holds a warmth that echoes in the flames. It’s my favorite room in existence. And I pulled the inspiration from her thoughts.

In that gorgeous burgundy negligee, Lilith looks as if she belongs. As if she’s designed the garment herself. I don’t miss how her gaze is filled with awe and envy as she takes in the space.

“Would you care for a drink?” I offer as I pour a glass of cabernet, the same shade of burgundy as the linen that covers wingback chair I motion for her to sit in.

“Is it poison?” she questions.

A rough laugh bellows from me and I can’t help myself. “Poison doesn’t exist once you’re dead, little piece.”

“Little piece?” she questions but I wave my hand in her direction, letting her mind sit comfortably with my pet name for her. I’ll allow her to absorb the magic I hold and the powers of demons. They’ll be useful and I do believe she’ll enjoy them immensely.

“No questions about that,” I tell her sternly and she nods in understanding. After I hand her, her drink, I continue with the arrangement. “If I give you what you want, then you cannot go back to the life you lived before. You can’t talk to anyone you knew, can’t see them for that matter. Including your best friend, Sabrina.”

That catches her attention. “Is she here too?”

“No” is all I tell her.

Panic consumes her. “Where is she?”

“She’s safe and alive.”

“Unlike me?” she utters, although I can feel relief gently comforting her. She truly does love her friend. The grief slips in slowly and I watch her swallow it.