Home > Eve of Chaos(21)

Eve of Chaos(21)
Author: Sylvia Day

“Ah’ Satan murmured, circling from a distance with a smooth alluring gait. Sex incarnate. “I see why they want you. Looking at you makes a man hard and ready to fuck.”

Eve flipped him the bird.

With a careless wave of his hand, he snapped the digit, bending it backward until her knuckle touched the back of her hand. She dropped to her knees, screaming.

Riesgo stepped forward, but she caught him with her left hand around his ankle. As a mortal, she would never have been able to stop him. As a Mark, she nearly toppled him.

“Don’t” she ordered in a richly nuanced rumble.

He stilled instantly, frozen.

Persuasion. A gift given to Marks that she likened to the Jedi mind trick. Why it would kick in—for the first time—now, when what she really needed was a weapon, was a gripe she would add to her long list. . . later. And while she was bitching, she’d mention the failure of her mark to kick in and give her some ass-whupping mojo.

Where was Reed? Alec? Anyone?

She released the priest and reached for her broken finger, groaning through gritted teeth as she wrestled it back into place.

Azazel tsked. “They teach less and less respect as the years pass, my liege.”

Satan came to her, looking down at her with gorgeous, emotionless eyes. His clawed fingertips lifted her chin and moved her head from side to side. His touch was cool, almost tender. She was riveted as much by that tenderness as by horror. Deep inside her, something trembled in paralyzing fear.

With proximity, the full effect of the Devil’s allure was undeniable. He wore a three-piece suit that reminded her of Reed, but the overlong hair and Dr. Martens were Alec’s. Even his features and build resembled her lovers, as did his scent—smoky, exotic, and deeply male. She wondered if he wore a guise to disorient her, or if she and God just had the same idea of what constituted a hot guy.

“Get away from her;’ Riesgo growled.

Satan shot him a bored but dangerous look.

Eve caught the Devil’s wrists, wincing at the throb of her injured hand. It would heal with time, but would hurt like hell in the interim. “It’s me you want. I’m the one who ran over your dog. Let the priest go.”

The Devil’s sleek head turned back to her. He looked amused. “But the priest is the means by which I will force your hand.”

She quivered inside. “No. You don’t need him. Deal with me.”

“You do not yet know what I want,” he crooned, cupping her face in his hands. His touch was so invasively cold it seeped into the very marrow of her bones, making her shiver violently. “Perhaps I want to defile you, lovely Evangeline. Perhaps I want to do things to you that will break your mind and spirit. Perhaps I want to watch while others do those same things to you. Listen to the melody of your screams until there is no fight left in you.”

She wished she could laugh at his drama, but really, she feared pissing herself instead.

Where were Montevista and Sydney? Were they battling Infernals somewhere? Were they dead?

“Please. L-let him g-go,” she managed through chattering teeth. She might as well be dunked in a frozen lake for all the warmth she felt.

Riesgo growled and began to speak. “I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the—”

“Shut him up,” Satan snapped.

Azazel flew like a bullet across the yardage that separated him from Riesgo. The priest was in the middle of a retaliatory lunge at impact, the crashing of the two bodies thudding violently. The ground opened as they fell, swallowing them whole. As the chasm closed as if it had never existed, the earth shuddered like a child who’d swallowed particularly nasty medicine.

“Oh my god,” Eve breathed, so shocked and frozen that she barely felt the burning of her mark. “What the f**k are you doing?”

Satan smiled, his thumbs brushing across her trembling lips. “Such a lovely mouth. You really should be working for me. I would appreciate your cynicism. I certainly appreciate how readily you discount Jehovah’s lies.”

Somehow she managed to wrench free, tumbling to her side and crawling with what strength she could muster. He followed her with leisurely steps, his hands clasped behind his back.

She stopped after progressing only a few feet. “What d-do you w-want?”

“Poor Evangeline’ he murmured, reaching for her. “You are chilled to the bone. Let me warm you.”

The moment his hand touched her skin, warmth coursed over her body like a hot summer breeze. So startled was she by the change that it took a moment before the sudden softness of the ground beneath her registered.

Satan straightened. Eve’s head turned slowly.

It was now the middle of the day, and they were far from the baseball field. Warm sand cushioned her side and the sun blazed in the cloudless sky above her. It was a desert of some sort, barren except for golden sand and large monolithic outcroppings. The chill in her blood began to fade. She struggled to her feet, ignoring the hand that the Devil held out to assist her.

Eve faced him with shoulders back and chin lifted. “Some of your mannerisms are so like hers,” he murmured, with a mysterious smile.

“So like whom?”

“Your namesake.” His gorgeous blood-red feathers fluttered in the oven-hot breeze. “Otherwise known as the ransom you will bring to me in return for the priest. And Raguel.”

CHAPTER 13

“What?” Eve hoped she was having a nightmare. “Where are we?”

“Come now’ he chastised, “your marked hearing works well enough to have heard me.”

He ignored her other question. Was she in Hell? Or some other plane of existence? Her mind whirled with the possibilities.

She turned slowly, keeping pace with him as he circled her so that he never had her back. “You want Eve?”

He applauded as if she was slow-witted and finally catching on. “Very good.”

Eve hated that he moved so elegantly. Hated that he was so beautiful, so seductive, so much more of both qualities in the light of the desert sun than he’d been under the artificial brightness of the stadium lights. She was mesmerized by him, enough that she sometimes lost touch with how terrified she was. It was a trick of some sort, an illusion.

“She’s dead,” she managed finally, her voice raspy from the dry air.

“And what is death, Evangeline?” Satan continued his slow, steady walk around her perimeter with hands clasped beneath his wings. “Mortals think of it as the end, like an extinguished flame. But that is not the way of it. The worthy come to me, the unworthy go to Jehovah. They all continue to exist, just in different places.”

“Don’t you have that ‘worthy’ thing backward?”

He shook his head. “I expected better of you. You are too intelligent to buy into Jehovah’s lies. In fact, I was quite impressed with your argument regarding the wager. How astute you are.”

Eve didn’t know what to say. In her mind, she imagined that God must be every bit as frightening as Satan. Who was the good guy? Were there any good guys in this mess?

The Devil watched her with a predatory intensity. “I confess, I regret that I was not the first to get my hands on you.”

“I don’t feel the same,” she muttered. “And I don’t see how I can help you.”

“You have everything you need in that eager flesh between your legs.” His words were crude, but his tone was conversational. “Spread them well enough, moan loud enough, beg sweetly enough. . . Cain and Abel will give you whatever you want.”

“They’re not going to give me their mother!”

Why were they so damn silent? Had Satan cut her off from them? Was he powerful enough to impede a God-given connection?

He gave an offhanded shrug. “They can lead you to her, and you can lead her to me.”

“What do you want with her?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“You’re asking the impossible.”

“I will give her back,” he said solicitously. “I just want to borrow her for a short time.”

Eve’s eyes stung. Riesgo had been taken because of her. She couldn’t abandon him and she couldn’t turn down an opportunity to get close to Gadara. She also couldn’t do what Satan wanted in return. Either way, she was seriously f**ked. “I can’t trust you.”

“Can you trust anyone?”

He had a point.

“Evangeline, I have no need for lies. The truth works well enough. Remember that I am not the one who created man and wanted to keep him ignorant. I am not the one who commanded Abraham to kill his only son to prove his devotion. I am not the one who burned, drowned, and buried alive hundreds of thousands of mortals. I am not the one who demanded a man be stoned to death because he collected wood on the day set aside for slavish worship.” His head tilted slightly. “Did you know Jehovah almost killed Moses because his son was not circumcised? Yet I am the monster?”

Because she was becoming disoriented, she stopped turning. Even after she stilled, the desert around her tipped and tilted. It was too hot now. Arid.

Satan smiled. There was a wealth of promise in the curve of his lips. Temptation. He was infamous for it.

Eve’s hand went to her throat, massaging it as if that would create the moisture she craved.

“Jehovah is the original spin doctor,” he continued, his voice lifting and falling in a soothing, lulling cadence

“I give him credit for his brilliance. Somehow, he became revered despite his cruelty. I, on the other hand, am reviled for my honesty.”

How the hell was she going to spin this to work in her favor? There had to be a way, but it was hard to think. Her mouth and throat were dry. She’d give anything for a drink of water...

“Call off your minions,” she said gruffly. “They’re complicating things.”

“Someone must earn the bounty,” he reminded, finally drawing to a halt. The spinning stopped along with him. “As I said, I always keep my promises.”

“How much am I worth?”

“Immunity. One get-out-of-Hell-free card.”

“Hmm. . .“ She wouldn’t have thought she’d be worth that much. When Infernals were killed, they stayed in Hell a few centuries. A rapid turnaround could make a demon pretty damn cocky and reckless, she’d guess. “Give the credit to Azazel. He’s the one who made the first move.”

Satan’s nose wrinkled slightly, which—insanely enough—humanized him. “Most would find that unfair. Azazel has always moved around freely.”

Her hands went to her hips. “I don’t give a shit if it’s fair or not. I’m a prisoner in my own house right now. Not very conducive to getting things done.”

“Fine. I will think of something suitable.” He was definitely amused now. She could see it in his eyes. “In return, you will say nothing of our bargain to anyone. You break your word, I am free to break mine... including keeping the priest and Raguel. Anything else?”

In hindsight, she realized she’d played right into his hands. He clearly wanted to keep her off-kilter by confusing everything in her head.

“Yeah, actually,” Eve began to circle him in a vain attempt to fight the feeling of a noose circling her neck. She felt manipulated and outmaneuvered. “I also have a Nix problem.”

She braced herself for whatever demand he would make in return.

“Ah, yes. You do.”

“Suck him back down with you when you go.”

“But Ulrich is doing so well,” There was a teasing note in the Devil’s voice. Again, it softened him.

It’s all a trick, she reminded herself.

Eve came to an abrupt stop, frustration riding her hard. “If he kills me, I won’t be of any use to you.”

Satan grinned. “I would have you full-time, then.”

“Cain and Abel would have me no-time,” she pointed out while fighting the urge to scream. Why was everyone betting that she’d go to Hell when she died?

“True.” He extended one hand to her. Nestled in his palm was a golden chain with a charm—an open circle with various lines and circles within it. “Wear this to protect yourself from the Nix. Put it around him to prevent him from shape-shifting into water.”

She stared at the necklace. Beware of demons bearing gifts. The thought of having something around her neck that came from Satan gave her the willies. “Isn’t there another way? Gold doesn’t look good on me.”

His brow arched, then he walked toward her. Eve wanted to back away, but was rooted in place by an unseen force. His fingers encircled the wrist of her injured hand and the lingering pain faded. “If you do what I say,” he murmured, “we can both get what we want.”

Satan released her arm, then draped the charm carefully around her neck. He tucked it inside her shirt with a humming sound of satisfaction. “There. Nix problem solved.”

He backed away. Her pent-up breath left her in a rush.

“You will have to kill him yourself, of course,” he added. “But without the ability to shift, he should be a much easier target for you. He can be mortally wounded then.”

“Gee, thanks,” she groused.

Their gazes met and held. Eve wondered if he truly believed that she would hand over Alec and Reed’s mother to him. If so, why did he believe that the priest and Gadara were so valuable to her? Worth enough to betray the men she loved.

She had to figure out what Satan was seeing that she was missing. Maybe he thought she’d be grateful to have him call off the bounty and help her with the Nix? He couldn’t be that vain. It was more convenient for her, yes. But no matter what, she would have dealt with the Nix and the bounty anyway.

“Are we clear about the terms, Evangeline?”

“Let me get this straight: you want Eve temporarily, in exchange for permanently returning Father Riesgo and Raguel?”

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