Genesis Queen (The Road to Hell Series) (20 page)

Her faithful Sherlock tugged her into his arms. She maintained a fraction of distance by placing her hands on his chest. All she wanted was to collapse into his arms, but after what she’d allowed, she didn’t deserve comfort. Instead, she should be begging for his forgiveness. “He kissed and touched me.” The muscles in his arms tensed just enough she felt it. “I allowed it.”

“Ah…confession time,” Micah drawled from behind her. “She also stopped my advances.”

Ignoring her husband, Nix held her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Nix.”

“Me, too.” She knew Micah wasn’t sorry for the same reasons.

They ignored the King.

“I love you, baby. It is okay.”

Relieved he could forgive her transgression, she collapsed into his arms, gripping him as tight as she could. Too important to lose, she would do almost anything to keep him with her. He was all that kept her grounded.

Disappointed in herself, she couldn’t understand how she’d risk what she had with Nix for one orgasm with her husband. How many climaxes did one succubus need anyway? After last night, she should be exhausted and unable to become aroused.

But we’re still hungry
. That fact scared her to death.
So hungry
.

She sensed the men glared at one another. What did Micah think of her in Nix’s arms? What did Nix imagine happened in this room?

“Don’t manhandle her like that again, Micah.” Her Sherlock’s demand rumbled against her ear.

“Or what, Phoenix? You’ll boot me out the door, too?” Her husband snorted. “Good luck with that, Ark of Heaven. It’ll take much more than you to remove me from Madison’s presence.”

What Madison heard between the words: Micah declared all-out war to claim her.

Chapter Nineteen

Micah watched as Madison grated potatoes. He’d watched her cook often during their marriage, and he’d always been struck by how unintentionally sensual she was while preparing food. One of his fantasizes had been to have her cook naked. That daydream always ended in her splayed on the table, clothed with his body, while he thrust deep into her. The woman he married would have tolerated such a display with as much grace as humans tolerated termites infesting their home. He suspected this new woman she’d become would be game for untold kink.

His earlier intentions in her bedroom had escalated further than he planned. The main point of getting her out of Phoenix’s presence was to explain to her that he had no intention of pining for her and doing nothing to claim her. But she’d tossed him her haughty expression—a goddamn challenge. She’d always been able to push his buttons. The succubus emitted pheromones he couldn’t deny, and he reacted on instinct to her arousal, sought to provide her relief.

Maybe he’d gone too far bringing Phoenix into the commentary. Detailing how the Ark of Heaven liked fucking in Hell had been unnecessary, but her affection for the other man made his chest ache. The pain had a name. Jealousy. He disliked the fucked-up emotion. Rendered him moody and unstable. More than that, he detested his ambiguous relationship with Madison.

Phoenix hovered near her. He hoped the other man worried Micah would abscond with her for good. Making the Ark of Heaven edgy amused him. Not that he’d take her anywhere against her will. He’d made that asinine promise to her in Hell to give her the choice. What had he been thinking?

A succubus craved power. As far as powers went, his were superior. Except for that little mojo Phoenix possessed where he could siphon the magic from others to use himself.

The sneaky suspicion that Madison thought Phoenix the better man—at least the more moral of the two—chafed. It drove him nuts that there was
any
uncertainty of his ability to win her back. Failure wasn’t an option. Damn his original plan, he wanted Madison regardless if he could accomplish wrenching Heaven from Father.

“Momma!” Amos entered the kitchen, Petralegija behind him, and he held up a photo. The Hellhounds went past him at a dead run to slide to a stop at Madison’s feet. “I drew this picture of—Daddy!” he ended on a squeal.

Micah barely gained his footing before his son launched his body against him. He picked the boy up and hugged him tight. Two decades ago he would’ve slit the throat of anyone that hinted he’d be involved in such an open display of emotion. His prodigy in his arms felt natural. Good. He looked at Madison. The two of them felt like home. Hell had been his safe place before. Not anymore.

He squeezed Amos tighter. Predictions attributed Micah’s greatest victory would come from the strength of his human family. At the time, he believed happiness would only come when he passed through the gates of Heaven because of their facilitation.

I might have misinterpreted the Azura stones
.

The child remained in his lap when he sat. He could feel every eye on them. He couldn’t look at Madison right now. Not after the revelation of his true happiness being with her. All this time he’d thought it defeating his father. How could he have been so blind? Uncomfortable with his emotions, he kept his attention on his son.

“I drew you.” Amos handed him the drawing. In vivid detail and color, his son had drawn Micah in angel form. “I have my two daddies with me.”

His gaze whipped upward. His son grinned at Phoenix, who rammed his fingers through his disheveled hair. The Ark of Heaven’s stare did not waver from Micah’s surprised one. The other man’s expression said ‘deal with it.’

“Why don’t I turn blue like you?” Amos turned his head so he could peer at him.

Beliel had difficulty transitioning between topics. He wanted to discuss this plural daddy-word instead. “Nephilim do not alter the way angels can. You are stuck with one form.” He went back to studying the photo. “The object you drew in my hand, where—how—why did you draw it?” He hadn’t used that weapon since shortly after his exile from Heaven.

“You’ll need it to save Momma.”

His gaze slashed to Madison, then slammed to Elias. He handed the drawing to his brother and looked Madison square in the eye. “That’s the
Scepter of Spirits
.”

“It remains in your possession?” Zennyo Ryuo stood near the window, expression void of any emotion. Eons ago, they’d been allies—if not friends—and he knew the immortal’s feelings ran deeper than most suspected.

“Yes. No other angel could use it anyway. It was designed specifically for my use, with my DNA.”

“Someone please explain.” Madison finished grating potatoes and dumped them in a frying pan.

He hoped she made hash browns. They were one of his favorite items that she cooked. “It’s a weapon that’ll kill anything.”

“Okay.” She looked between him and the immortal. “I don’t get how that is significant to you still having it.”

“Angels cannot kill one another. The
Scepter
granted me power to kill even angels
and
reap them to whichever plane of my choosing.”

Her mouth parted on a ragged inhalation. “You dominated the angels in Heaven? Before the Fall?”

“I commanded
arch
angels. Significant difference. We’re elite.”

“So, basically”—Nix poured a mug of coffee—“you weren’t just the head honcho of the archangels, you were
the
bigwig archangel. The one no one fucked with.”

Micah inclined his head. “So to speak.” He’d have worded it differently, but Phoenix’s words were accurate enough.

His father’s keeper of balance pulled out a chair. “This proves we’re dealing with some sort of holy intervention.”

“Or that we’re dealing with you.”

The immortal froze in a half-seated position and gave him the once-over. He sat. “I’ve had plenty of opportunities to kill them, if that were my intent.”

“Doesn’t mean you haven’t altered your mind.”

“What Amos drew had wings. Zen doesn’t have wings.” Madison checked something in the oven and removed the Pyrex dish from within. “And I trust Zen with my life.”

“This
is
your life we’re talking about, kitten. Amos’s, too.” Madison poured grease over the potatoes and adjusted the temperature as he continued. “I told Phoenix the Azura stones keep giving me one word: betrayal.”

Zennyo Ryuo sat forward. “When did you tell Phoenix this?”

“Last night. I also gave him your Azura stones, Madison. Use them after breakfast and help us fight for your lives.”

“Why didn’t you give me this information, Phoenix?” The immortal faced the Ark of Heaven.

Phoenix scratched his nape. “Mads and I got—ah, a little sidetracked.”

Madison stirred the potatoes, a light blush heating up her cheeks. “No hello for your daughter, Micah?”

A convenient change in topic. But damn…watching Phoenix tie her down and have his way with her had been way more erotic than he’d anticipated. Afterward, Mads had woken Phoenix with a blowjob, and he’d been amazed all over again. The erotic display would be imprinted in his mind for a long time to come. Better than succubus porn.

He scanned the room and located Petralegija across the room near the refrigerator, pouring a large glass of orange juice. “Petralegija, so long as you protect my family, I have no quarrel with you.”

“Petra
is
your family.” The scold from Madison surprised him.

Petralegija was his daughter, but he’d never thought of her as family. He’d spent time with her, taught her how to be an excellent demon, but he hadn’t nurtured her with familial emotions. Not as he had his son or his wife.

Had he committed a grave injustice against his eldest? Now wasn’t the time for that particular contemplation. He’d have time to ponder that when Madison and Amos’s lives weren’t at risk.

He tickled his son’s belly. “We need to have a powwow with your momma about your abilities.” He sensed Madison’s displeased attention. Sure enough when he looked at her, frown lines slashed between her brows. “Just to see where we stand, kitten. Hiding your head in the sand and pretending neither of you have magic is as good as cutting off an arm at the beginning of a battle.”

“I agree with him.” Madison swung toward Phoenix, who leaned a hip against the island. The Ark shrugged. “It makes good sense. I want you to survive. If you gotta leave your comfort zone to survive, I’ll push you harder than Micah will.”

“You promised we’d work on mine, Momma, when you came back from Hell.” Micah restrained himself from high-fiving Amos over that reminder.

Madison dashed salt over the potatoes and flipped them. Yep…hash browns and his mouth went to watering as they sizzled. It’d been too damn long since he dined on her cooking.

“Yeah, I did.” Biting her bottom lip, she glanced between him and their son. “I want Zen present.”

Elias handed the picture back to him. “If Zennyo Ryuo’s the betrayer, you’re giving him your game plan.”

Madison slammed her spatula on the counter. “He’s not!”

“I’m not the betrayer.” Zennyo Ryuo sounded as if they discussed something as mundane as the weather.

“I have every reason
not
to believe you.” The immortal’s betrayal years ago still stung. They’d been friends, they’d created together—accidentally, but it’d still been creation.

“They are my new family.”

“Heartwarming.” Elias’s dry sarcasm couldn’t be dismissed. His brother tapped a fingertip against the table and eyed the immortal. “Last time I checked, they share our blood, not yours. That makes them
our
family not yours.”

“I like Zen. He’s part of my family.” Amos twisted toward his uncle. “Why don’t you like him?”

“Long story.” The explanation would be better coming from Micah rather than from Elias. “We used to kind of be friends once.”

His son shifted on his lap and examined Micah. “Before your Fall?”

“Yes.”

“Father sent him and his kind to kill us after the Fall. Wanted us obliterated from the face of earth.” Elias nudged Amos on the arm. “Many angels died violently at the hands of the Zennyo Ryuo.”

“Lie.” The immortal’s clipped tone expressed his agitation.

“Your kind goddamn sure did.” His twin slid his chair back with a scrape and rose to his feet.

An electrical charge hit the table. A bowl-sized black hole smoldered in the middle of the wood. They fell silent. Elias’s jaw dropped. His expression collected, Zen turned toward Madison. Micah whipped his head about to stare at her.

Madison had unleashed magic to shut them up. His dick twitched at her violent display of power.

“I don’t know what war you three have going, and I don’t care.” She pointed at them. “Our child is sitting in your lap and I won’t have him be a part of some stupid, ancient feud. You’re here supposedly to help keep us safe. The bickering ends now. Arguing doesn’t solve a thing.” Her movements were jerky as she dumped the hash browns into a large bowl and slammed it on the table over the blackened spot. “As for powers, how was that for a demonstration, Micah?”

“Well….” Beliel drew the word out as she retrieved plates and dropped them on the table. He would wager the bottom one held a crack or two. “The lightning bolt was mighty impressive.”

Madison all but threw the silverware on the table as she tossed Micah a dirty look. “Hash browns and breakfast casserole”—she motioned between the two items, one on the table, the other resting on the counter by the stove—“eat up.”

She snatched the picture Amos had drawn and walked—stomped, more like it—out of the kitchen.

“Momma’s mad.”

“How do you all tolerate her?” Elias slumped back onto his seat.

“She’s intense.” Kur entered from the doorway and made a beeline for the table. “And I’m eating.” He grabbed a plate and served himself a heaping portion.

Phoenix slammed his hands on the wooden table, snatching Micah’s attention off the immortal. “I talked
hard
to convince her to allow you to help. Don’t screw it up over your ego. If she or Amos die because of your arrogance, I will hunt you and Elias both down in Hell and skin you.” He stood and jammed his fingers through his hair. “Sport, how about a game of Zombie Wars?”

“Uh oh.” His son slid off his lap and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Daddy Nix”—Micah winced over the reference—“is mad at you, too.”