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"Oh." She chewed her lip, trying to imagine what he could possibly need the other two for.
"In the meantime, why don't we stock up on ammunition in case the others get into some tough shit?" He stood and helped her to her feet.
She sighed. "Yeah. Especially Lucifer. Knowing him, he's already stirring the shit somewhere."
"I wouldn't be surprised." He grinned.
Neither would anyone else.
"Come on." He started down the hall. "I've got an arsenal full of weapons we could use."
She kept pace with him easily. "Like what?"
He shrugged. "Battle axes, war hammers, swords. The usual, really."
"Interesting that you have a lot of mêlée weapons." She nudged him with her elbow.
He laughed her faux-attack off. "What can I say? I have an affinity for whacking people."
"I can tell." She laughed. "You gave Malnos one hell of crack on the head."
"One, he deserved it. And two, I enjoyed giving it to him." His smile turned sly.
"You're cruel." She nudged him again.
He nudged her back. "And you. Do you have a favorite weapon?"
She nodded. "You have a meteor hammer on hand?"
He barked out a sharp laugh. "And you call me vicious!"
"What? It's a good weapon!"
"You've practiced with it?" He looked at her with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
She thought for a moment. "I've handled it a few times."
She was bullshitting. Truthfully, she'd been practicing with a meteor hammer since she was seven -- a gift from her maternal grandfather for her birthday. After years of living with an absent real mother busy with work, Kara found that training with the weapon offered a rare chance to vent her emotions and escape from the world. She never visited a master of martial arts to teach her how to handle it. Instead, her stubbornness and curiosity fueled her desire to learn on her own, and she eventually mastered the weapon by the time she was ten.
"Well, that's good. At least you have some experience." He looked her up and down for a moment. "It's a good weapon for you. It fits."
She looked at him, confused. "How so?"
He looked down the hall, staring off into space. "Fast, unpredictable and devastating when used correctly. Like you."
"Umm...thanks?" She understood what he meant, but she enjoyed toying with him.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "You're welcome."
She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. It was slightly awkward walking side-by-side like that, but neither of them really minded. It was one of the few moments in this world of chaos that they had to themselves. And she hadn't seen or been with Ladrian in so long. It was nice being next to him.
In the few moments she did have with him, she'd discovered his true, honest self. He may be disturbingly quiet and have a taste for bondage, but of all of them, Ladrian was the most level-headed prince. He also had the softer personality. She had yet to see him argue with the other princes or take on Lyzander in a fight. He was the quiet one, the soft one. And yet, he had one hell of a sexual appetite and could swing like a pro.
It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?
Yes, it was. She herself was evidence of that. Surely after 'raising' her for the last six years, Emiline had gotten a glimpse of her strength and skill, even if she was a rabid bookworm and history nut. She must have some idea of the damage she could cause. The girls in her school certainly did. One too many 'accidentally' spilled drinks that ended up in her lap and they had learned she was a force to be reckoned with. The last offender who had set her off left the school that day with a broken nose, a black eye and three less teeth.
Rugby, as it later turned out, was something she was born to play. She rose to claim the title of team captain of her school within weeks of starting her first season, a title that many in her school felt was well deserved. The players from opposing teams did not agree, though their numerous broken bones and bruises had set up a small amount of bias..
After hours - or minutes - of walking, they arrived at a new room she'd never seen before. Like the gentleman that he was, Ladrian opened the door and stood back so she could enter. The sconces flared to life, illuminating a cavernous room containing a cache of steel blades and leather handles. All four walls were covered in weaponry and armaments, from shields to maces to broadswords to full suits of armor.
The history nerd side of her nearly exploded. The amount of ancient weaponry this room held had her running around like a schoolgirl. She touched nearly every piece of armor and blade, savoring the feel of cool metal under her fingertips. She stopped when she noticed her prized weapon hanging on the wall in front of her.
The hammer was a thing of beauty. Hanging on a thick spike drilled into the wall, its twenty foot tail was looped around the nail. Made of silver chain local to the underworld, its thin appearance was deceiving: Measure for measure, it was stronger than titanium and half the weight. Below, a ball of solid steel the size of a small melon hung from the end of the chain and rested against the wall. Small spikes jutted out from the surface of the ball, making it look like a larger, evil version of a golf ball.
Tentatively, she reached out her hand and let her fingers graze to smooth-yet-sharp surface of the ball. She cupped it in her hand, feeling the weight of it settle into her palm. A good ten pounds. Lighter than what she usually wielded, but just as devastating. Memories of happier times -- of when she was throwing around her prized weapon with wild abandon - flooded her mind, bringing a small smile to her face.
Ladrian's arms around her waist snapped her out of her flashbacks. He pulled her close against him, her back pressing against his chest. He nuzzled her neck with his cheek.
"You look tense." His breath scorched her flesh, making small shivers trip up her spine.
"Just nervous." She said shakily. "I'm not really prepared to kill someone, even if I know I have to. That's just not me."
It truly wasn't. She could defend herself without any issue, but murder was by no means her forte.
His lips began trailing light kisses along her neck. "I know. None of us enjoy it, but sometimes it has to happen."
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Something else is bothering you."
Chewing her lip, she sighed. "I'll confess I'm not feeling all sunshine and rainbows about marrying Lucifer. He's just not...my type."
"He's no one's type, Kara. But this is one of those situations where it's set in stone and we can't help you." One hands slid down the soft cotton of her shirt. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do."
She shook her head slightly. "It's okay. I know you didn't plan this."
"No. I couldn't live with myself if I ever put you in danger."
His hands continued down, eventually stopping at the edge of her jeans where his fingers began tracing tantalizing designs of her skin. She shivered, wanting more but not brave enough to ask. It had been so long since Ladrian had done anything with her, and her body felt starved for his touch.
"Still feeling stressed?"
She nodded, waiting anxiously for his next move.
"May I take the edge off?" His voice had dropped low, now almost a growl in her ear. The tips of his fingers slid under the edge of her jeans. Warm fingers brushed cool flesh, making her skin break out in goosebumps.
She nodded again, almost feverishly.
She heard his soft laugh an instant before his fingers slipped under the waistband of her panties. They parted the fold of her sex, caught there between her body and her clothing. One single fingertip began spinning circles over and around her clit. Her knees buckled and she leaned against his chest. God, his fingers felt amazing. They made her head spin and her heart race.
"If we had time," he whispered in her ear, "I would chain you to a wall and tease you with every torture device imaginable."
"Mmmm." She could barely force the sound out.
"The rack would spread you wide open for me. I could tease you with whips and chains. Or I could suspend you from the ceiling again." His finger moved faster. "Oh, I could have so much fun with you."
Her body was trembling now, small parks racing up her spine fueling then fire now roaring in her core. Afraid of falling to the ground because her legs were so weak, ahs gripped his arm that was still wrapped around her waist.
"Is that...what you were planning...to do?" The words came out breathy and weak, her vocal cords scorched almost beyond use from the bonfire he'd started.
"No. I already told you, I need Darian and Lyzander to help me with that."
"F-for what?" One of her knees lost its strength entirely and she gripped his arm tighter.
"In case you start to lose control. I have something very special in mind for you, and I don't need you trying to escape me."
Too late, but thanks for your consideration.
They stayed like that for well over five minutes, him supporting her weight while his finger continued to work her into a slow frenzy. He kept his movements deliberately slow, taking care not to fire her up too quickly. He seemed hell-bent on making her orgasm slow and powerful, and he was doing a damned good job of making that happen.
He stopped his tender strokes an instant too soon. She whimpered as he withdrew his hand. Her body burned for him to continue, but he had already pulled away and was supporting her still-limp body. On the inside, she knew what he was doing as for the best. He'd taken a good chunk of her emotional load off her shoulders without leaving her foggy and uncoordinated.
Shaking her head to clear it, she forced her body to move again. Taking a deep breath, she made her legs find their strength again and took a step away from his embrace. Bad move. She teetered forward and held her hands out to brace herself against a wall. His hands gently gripped her shoulders to steady her.
"Maybe we should stay here for a minute. You're still off your kilter."
"No, I'm okay." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Why did you stop?"
His black eyes bored into hers. "Because we need you level-headed for this. I'd love to make you come, but then you'd be down and out for then next hour and we don't have that kind of time." His eyes shifted from intense to apologetic.
She nodded and smiled. He was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She loved the pleasure that sex offered, but her recovery time afterwards was shit.
Still a little shaky, she managed to push away from the wall and stand on her own for the minute it took to regain her balance. He stepped away, walking towards the array of weapons and began to stock up. She noticed he made sure to keep an eye on her the entire time, just in case she lost her balance again. She shook her head one last time to shake away and residual cloudiness, then turned and smiled at him.
Ladrian was standing against one wall, grinning back at her. A long chain was looped around his hand, the heavy weight of the meteor hammer swinging back and forth tantalizingly above the floor. He flicked his wrist, sending the spiked ball flying at her. It was an amateur shot that she caught easily, the ball coming to a halt in her palm. She rolled it in her hands, feeling the small spikes tickle her fingers.
"Impressive."
She shrugged innocently and smiled at the heavy steel ball.
"Here." He tossed the chain to her.
She reached out one hand and gripped the chain, looping it gently around her arm. The cool metal on her skin and the heavy steel in her hand made her feel like a child again. She grinned.
"Come on, you." Ladrian's voice snapped her out of her memories. "We have to go help the others."
She watched as he gathered a myriad of knives, sword and spears and began making his way out into the hallway. She giggled, wrapping the rest of the chain around her arm and tightening her grip on the ball. "Right."
She ran after him, the chain of her hammer whipping through the doorway an instant before it slammed shut.
* * *
They ran along the hall in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Neither of them took their eyes off the dizzying distance in front of them. The hall was as empty as ever, which meant that help was far from coming. It was clear to her that Lucifer was taking his sweet time as always. Poor Darian. He must be losing his mind.
It bothered her to no end what Ladrian had said. She was going to marry Lucifer? The thought made her stomach wretch. God, how could she marry someone like that? Knowing the dialogues they'd had so far, she had the feeling there would be some major screaming, freezing shoulders and at least one battle axe stuck in a wall.
Not the best start for a marriage.
She shrugged off the thought of Lucifer for now, instead focusing her anger at the woman who had killed her mother and taken her place. That was a better outlet for her rage. She'd deal with Lucifer and his fucked up lies later.
Rounding a corner, they slowed their pace as they came closer to the massive twin doors of the selection hall. They exchanged glances and kept moving. Now was not the time to lose their strength and chicken out. There were lives to be saved and asses to be kicked.
Pushing one door open and walking through, she saw Emiline reclining in Lucifer's gilded throne. Dresses in a filmy gold gown with a plunging neckline and covered in glittering jewels -- even wearing one of Lucifer's many crowns - she looked every bit a false queen. Here eyelids were painted with heavy dark shadow and her lips were an obnoxious cherry red. Her skin was bronzed and dusted with a shimmers glitter that caught the sunlight streaming from the ceiling window.
Kara thought she looked like a bejeweled clown.
She sat sideways in the chair, her feet dangling over one armrest and her head thrown back over the other, watching her sons fighting with the twins and laughing. One of the demon guards stood at the other side of the chair, feeding sun-ripened cherries into her mouth. The collar around his neck and the thick chain attached to the floor told her that he did not want to be there.
Riordan and Tristan were locked in battle with Malnos -- who had been released from his restraints - and Ziron, with the twins have a great advantage. The brothers may be skilled fighters, but the twins were better communicators and often switched from fighting one brother to the next. It was clear that the stakes of this fight were high, and that the twins were sure to win.
Emiline's black eyes flicked away from the ensuing fight and found her. A grotesque smile broke out on her face, her eyes lighting up with a darkness that made Kara want to vomit.
"Ah, here she is!" Emiline shifted in the chair so she was sitting straight. "My goodness, you've certainly kept us waiting. How rude, but I suppose that's to be expected of one so young and naive."
Bitch.
"Your poor friends didn't fare too well against my guards, but I think they'll survive." She motioned to Riordan and Tristan, who, while alive and fighting with all they had, were covered with bruises and cuts.
Double bitch.
"Oh, and don't worry about your first lover and Lucifer. I'm sure my hunters will find them soon enough."
Oooh, hyper bitch!
Emiline glanced over to the brawling brothers and flicked her hand, signaling them to stop. Four guards descended on the fighters, each grabbing one prince and pulling him away. Riordan and Tristan went easily, their eyes trained on her for instructions. Malnos was quiet as well, though anger still burned in his eyes. Ziron, on the other hand, was fighting his captor like a timber wolf, desperate to get one more blow in.
Hesitating for an instant, she scanned the brawlers one more time. Where was Lyzander?
Emiline returned her gaze to Kara, still smiling her annoying grin.
"Ah, well. The good news is now you're here and we can continue with the ceremony." She clapped her hands the two guards who held Malnos and Ziron loosened their grip.
Emiline beckoned her sons with her finger, and both raced to the foot of her chair. She twisted her finger and both brothers spun to face Kara. She knew instantly what had happened by the smug looks on their faces. Malnos hadn't kept his end of the bargain, probably telling his mother everything that had happened and ratted out Lucifer and Darian. Ziron probably threw the first punch that started the whole thing.
So much for claiming he was trustworthy.
"Now, my dear. You have another selection to make, I believe. Here are your choices." One hand rested on a shoulder of either brother. "Malnos is more intelligent and independent that my youngest son, but Ziron is by far the more passionate of the two." Her eyes glinted in the light, making Kara think of a predator stalking its prey.
"Which of my handsome sons will you chose first?"
Both brothers straightened and grinned at her, obviously not caring that they betrayed her and almost got the twins killed. She grimaced at the brothers, watching their faces fall. Malnos avoided her gaze, his emerald eyes flicking to stare at something -- anything -- but her. Ziron was, unfortunately, persistent. He kept on smiling as if nothing had ever happened.
"Neither, thank you." She nearly spat the words. "Neither of your sons appeals to me."
Emiline's face fell. "Neither of them?" She stroked her sons' hair. "That's too bad, because they're both very interested in you."
"I can tell." She continued to skewer Malnos with her gaze.
Emiline shrugged. "Oh, well. I suppose that means I'll have to choose for you."
What?!
Kara stared wide-eyes at Emiline as she looked both of her sons over. She smiled and stroked Malnos' hair. He smiled back. This couldn't be good.
"Alright, you'll have my eldest first." Emiline looked back at her. "Don't worry. He's not one for keeping his word, but I'm sure he'll be an excellent lover."
Shit! Shit! Shit!
There had to be a way out of this. There had to be. Some loophole or catch that Emiline couldn't see. Some rule or doctrine that could screw with her plans just long enough for them to come up with a plan.
"Wait!" She held out her hands, pausing for time. "I can't sleep with your either of your sons yet."
Emiline cocked her head to the side. "And why not? They're perfect specimens. I'm sure you could schedule in a little time for them."
Oh, please let this work.
"I know. I've seen them. But the choice of princes is mine alone and I haven't specifically chosen either of them yet. Besides, I still have one prince left before I can choose another." She motioned to Ladrian. "Making my decision for me would be breaking the Axerion Code."
Emiline pouted and sat back in her chair. To her tiny amount of credit, even she knew the rules of marriage in Hell. The Axerion Code -- considered to be the Bible of any and all Hell marriages - had been set up millennia ago to keep power within families and prevent inbreeding. There were strict guidelines that must be followed, and woe to any who tried to break the boundaries. Something as tight and true as that wasn't something to be messed with. Even Lucifer knew better. Barely.
Still pouting and sighing dramatically, Emiline nodded. "Very well. You may have your prince. But once you're done with him, it is my command that you return to this chamber and select which of my sons will be next."
Like I'm going to listen to your command.
She paused, an evil smile growing on her lips. "I know. Why don't you and your prince do it here? After all, I need to make sure you won't escape, and it will provide such wonderful entertainment for us."
