Page 62 of The River of Fire

As soon as the door is between us, I rush to the toilet, glad I’m in a nightgown and not my leathers. But while I thought this would be easy, I find myself in a bit of a panic instead. It’s like my bladder forgot how to relieve itself. As I try to let go, I just grow more frustrated. Remembering an old trick from my more voracious drinking days, I bite my arm, and, finally, a too-slow trickle starts.

Once my bladder is blessedly empty, I sigh in relief and take care of the next pressing tasks: brushing my teeth and bathing. He must have cleaned me as well as tried to feed me because I’m not covered in dirt and dust. Still, I don’t feel clean until I scrub every inch of my skin with his pine-scented soap.

When I come out, Ash is sitting on the edge of the bed, a placid expression on his face. I plop down next to him, though he onlyjostles slightly, since he basically weighs as much as a wall of bricks.

“So…” I give him the cue to start explaining. He turns towards me, his lips set in a very fake looking Mona Lisa smile.

“I suspected Belial was behind the ambush on Sariel and Armaros,” he begins without preamble, as if he had the words on the tip of his tongue all these days and now he’s finally saying them out loud to me. “The information about your Simone’s family came from him, after all.” He bares his teeth and I feel that the disgust isn’t only aimed at the other archdemon, but himself as well. I want to tell him Armaros’ death wasn’t his fault, but there’s still a wall between us, one born from his behavior the day following that loss.

“I sent Aim to investigate,” he continues, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs, the rings on his fingers glimmering in the candlelight as he interlaces them. “What little he could find out, confirmed that Belial had been communicating with the cretins and arming them, and thus his culpability.” He sighs and slowly angles his head to make eye contact with me. “Because he was the culprit there, I assumed he was also the culprit in whatever situation Asmodai found himself in. I deduced that I was his target, for whatever reason.”

His jaw clenches and, when he doesn’t immediately continue, I finish the thought he began forming. “But it was me, not you.”

He stands up and begins prowling around the room, his clenched fists belying his slow and steady steps. “Yes,” he says at length. “It was you, and I sent you away from here, thinking you are safer at Purgatory, far from my side and any possible fallout.”

I shake my head. “He’s a master manipulator. He had been planning this for decades. He’s the reason we’re here, the Elioud. While Hellisovercrowded, he somehow manipulated the damned souls to congregate and merge into manifestations, making it seem even more dire to the Council. He whispered in their ear for years, tugging strings left and right, making everything unfold just so.”

I stand up as well and plant myself in his path, making himstop walking. “While he couldn’t have predicted that I’d end up here with you, he probably had dozens of different contingency plans. You couldn’t have known.”

He growls in frustration and places his hands on my shoulders, squeezing lightly. “I have known him for millennia. I should have thought beyond the obvious. I let my grief and anger spur me into hasty decisions.”

“He said he wanted me because he felt my grandfather owed him his service and abandoned him to be with my grandmother instead,” I share, and Ash inclines his head. “Why the argument, though?” I ask the archdemon before me. “The one you had with me. If you wanted me gone, telling me to fuck off would have been just as effective.”

Ash closes his eyes and, letting go of my shoulders, starts pacing again. I cross my arms and wait for him to speak, unwilling to help him explain, even though I have my own suspicions about his behavior that day.

“I am indestructible,” he begins. “And for countless millennia, I did not feel nuanced emotion, not as the majority of humanity does, not even while living in Elysium.” He stops pacing in front of a window and pauses as if to gather the right words to explain this to someone who has only lived a few decades and spent all of those decades feeling a certain way. “We were not created to love anything but our Creator, nor to feel pride in anything but our work for Him. But feelings can be shaped, influenced, and corrupted – they evolve.” He turns back towards me and something in his expression keeps me rooted in my place across the room. “For the next several millennia, I only felt a perversion of the little emotion we were given. Lust in control, pride of self, greed for power.”

He starts walking back to me slowly, and for some reason, I have to fight the urge to step back. “I desired to control you and your pleasure from the moment I saw you attempting to outsmart that golem.” I flush and swallow audibly, my throat suddenly dry. “But I also knew quickly that your presence… centers me. Eons of memories reside in my head; it is not a quiet place. I haven’t felt at peace for so long.” His last words are said so quietly, they’re nearly a whisper. He tilts his head and gives me a wry smile that never fails to cause pirouetting butterflies in my stomach. I mentally douse them with bug spray. Not the time to jump his bones. “I wonder if that is why Asmodai took his Elioud,” he finishes his thought, and I bristle.

“It doesn’t justify keeping her by force for years,” I growl, feeling indignant on behalf of the girl I barely just got to know before she disappeared, presumed to be dead.

He winks unapologetically. “Perhaps not for you. But…” His expression sobers and he drags his hand through his messy hair. It almost looks like he’s been taking better care of me than himself these days. “Caring about the safety of someone who is not as indestructible as us is maddening. When Armaros was killed, it was obvious that I had formed such attachments in the last centuries. You, pet, are more vulnerable than demons and fallen angels.”

My eyebrows pop up and I take a step back, shaking my head. “So, what, you were being a dick because you wanted the attachment gone?”

“No,” he refutes instantly, stepping closer and placing a hand behind my neck, preventing me from putting more distance between us. “I was adick.” His brows lift at the insult. “Because, while I was trying to push you away for your safety, I also wanted you to fight it, to say you do not believe our lives to be less important or us incapable of caring because we lack a soul. To say you wished to stay, despite the measures I took after Armaros’ death.”

I sneer in his face. “You know I don’t think only humans are capable of love. Or that having a soul makes them – us – more worthy. And if you thought I was going to beg you to let me stay after you acted like a total bastard, you really don’t know me.”

Instead of getting mad, he lifts his other hand to cup my cheek, smiling at me triumphantly. “You acted exactly the way I expected you to; walked out of my throne room with your head held high.” He rubs the apple of my cheek with his thumb andpeers down at me. “I apologize for causing you pain by handling my own so poorly,” he adds softly.

I blink up at him. What am I supposed to say to that? I’m more used to people lashing out than admitting their faults in a conversation. I settle for evasion and joking – it’s enough that one of us is being mature. “Are you going to send me home every time you have this demon menstrual syndrome?”

He gives me a knowing look, then rests his forehead on mine. “This is your home.”

My eyes start burning. That’s practically a declaration of love for him and I can’t handle it. The air between us is charged with emotion and his eyes soften at spotting the tears in mine. “I’m copyrighting that, you know.” The words rush out of me. “DMS.”

Ashtaroth pulls me in and shuts me up with a deep kiss. My toes curl and I wrap my arms around his middle, pulling him closer and sucking on his tongue like I’m checking if he does have a soul inside his body after all.

He chuckles and walks backward towards the bed, pulling me with him. Once he reaches it, he lies down on his back with me atop of him. “This is a new and interesting position,” I murmur while nibbling on his gorgeous lips.

He lets his arms fall back over his head in a gesture of surrender. “Have at me.” He smiles. “I am at your mercy, little lamb.” The way he says it makes me think he doesn’t just mean for this round of bedsports.

“Hmm,” I muse, pursing my lips in contemplation. “I better start from the top then.”

His eyes glow with banked embers as I lean down to gently kiss first one eyelid, then the other. I can feel his thick black lashes tickling my lips and I smile before moving down to his own, where I lick once over the seam before using both of mine to suck on his upper lip. Moving over the indent under his cheekbone to his ear, I trail soft kisses over his skin, before taking his earlobe between my teeth so I can softly bite the flesh.

His soft groan makes me release a gust of air into this ear and he twitches underneath me. Moaning, I move lower and licka path over his neck before sucking on the protrusion of his Adam’s apple at the center of it. His hiss spurs me on and I sit up so I can tear open his shirt. I trail my nails from his clavicle down toward his sides, then lean over so I can take one firm nipple into my mouth, sucking on it before biting down. I can feel the pulse in the hardness pushing against me between my legs, so I repeat the process on the other side.

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