Cathryn Fox

Hell's Angel


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      Hell’s Angel

      Cathryn Fox

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       www.spice-books.co.uk

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      Chapter One

      Ribbons of acrid, sulfur residue curled through Lucifer’s lair and wafted before Brand’s face—the fiery black cinder a perfect match for his mood. With his arms folded behind his back, Brand faced his Master and inhaled the all too familiar smells, drawing them into his lungs and savoring them like a powerful aphrodisiac. The pungent aroma fed the anger in his soul, a continual reminder that many decades ago his best friend had escaped purgatory, leaving Brand behind to rot in Hell. Literally.

      Flames raced up the stone wall as blistering heat played over his scarred and mutilated flesh, but Brand had learned long ago to distance himself from the discomfort and concentrate only on the raw anger whipping through his veins. It was that anger that kept him going, and gave him purpose as he awaited Gage’s return.

      Sure he and Gage had been best friends, relying solely on one another to make it through each gruelling day in Hell, and sure Brand had thought Gage would come back for him, but the passing of time, decades to be precise, had fleeced him of his last vestige of hope. Gage had been gone for nearly thirty years, but it might as well have been a millennium since one day in Hell felt like an eternity.

      Brand hadn’t wanted to believe that Gage and his newly found soul mate, Jadyn, had purposely left him behind, but years of torture and abuse at the hands of Lucifer had a way of changing one’s perspective. Not to mention the sinister methods his Master had of drilling the venomous fact home, again and again.

      Yeah, Hell really had a way of changing a guy, Brand mused.

      Lucifer’s cold amber eyes met his unflinchingly. Without softening his words to lessen the impact, he announced sharply, “Gage and Jadyn have a daughter. Her name is Kaylea.”

      Brand fisted both hands as rage ate at his insides like a thousand hungry rats. Gage and Jadyn had a child. The image of big blue eyes, round ruby cheeks and bubbling laughter erupted in his brain, eliciting a disconcerting mixture of sadness, joy, pain and elation.

      Lucifer’s voice pulled him back, anchoring him in this reality—a cold, harsh reality without love, companionship or…loyalty. “Like her name says, she’s a pure soul. Born of goodness and touched by…” Lucifer paused, gave a slight shiver and glanced upward before saying, “Him.” He then proceeded to tap sharpened black claws on his stone throne as he gave Brand a moment to digest and assimilate the information. His long, talonlike nails hammered in synch with Brand’s accelerated heart beat. After a short respite, Lucifer added, “I want you to mark herfor me.”

      Incredulous, Brand’s head came up with a start, shocked at his Master’s request. “If she’s so pure, how am I supposed to mark her for Hell? She has to commit a crime, and since one born of purity rarely commits—”

      Lucifer cut him off and swiped his hand though the heavy air, carrot flames dancing on his fingertips. He scowled. “Have you learned nothing from your time here, Brand,” he boomed out. After a long-suffering sigh, Lucifer countered, “Then perhaps you’re not the man for the job.” He let his glance race over the four warriors flanking his side, as though assessing their abilities for this very important mission.

      “I am the man for the job.” The eerie, calm in Brand’s voice brought Lucifer’s attention back around to him and left little doubt that he was the man for the job, capable of fulfilling any task Lucifer cared to saddle him with. Brand narrowed his eyes to mere slits, his nostrils flared. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

      Brand didn’t miss the slight, victorious grin on Lucifer’s face. A grin that enlightened Brand to the fact that not only did Lucifer want him for the job, but he also needed him for it. Was it because he—a man who had a vested interest in the case—was the only man who could get the job done. Or was it something else?

      “It’s a crime against her God to sleep with the devil’s henchman,” Lucifer elaborated, then stuck out his claws to study them, giving Brand time to digestthe information.

      Brand knew that Lucifer had been nothing short of enraged when Gage and Jadyn had miraculously escaped some decades ago. He carried that rage like an Olympic torch, nurturing the smoldering embers until fiery flames seeped from his every pore. Lucifer fed off the volatile energy, using it and manipulating it as he waited for the opportune moment to exact his revenge. And now, it seems, the time had come.

      “So you want me to seduce her, then?”

      Lucifer gave a slow side-to-side shake of his disfigured horned head. “My, but you are a quick one.” Then his voice dropped, and took on a serious edge. He leaned forward, close enough that Brand could smell hot garbage on his breath. He snarled, and said, “I want her. And with the way your so-called friends had treated you, I’d hazard a guess that you’re just the man to bring her to me.” Amber eyes narrowed and stared down at Brand. “You must accomplish this mission in forty-eight hours. It’s all the time you’ll have. Beyond that my powers to keep you in human form fade, then your body will weaken and you’ll materialize back here.” A short pause and then, “So what do you say, Brand, a little tit for tat?” He nodded his head, gesturing to the guarded portal embedded in the blackened stone wall—a portal that carried souls from one realm to the other.

      Brand studied the long, jagged opening in the rock before turning back to face his Lucifer. A sardonic grin curled up his lips as he echoed, “A little tit for tat,Master.” Then under his breath, he added, “Payback is such a bitch.”

      Chapter Two

      “Okay, I’m going to sleep with the next man who walks through that door,” Kaylea West announced as she and her best friend Nicole James ate lunch at Halo, her parents’ curbside café.

      Nicole gave her a sceptical glance and took a sip of her steaming latte. She rolled one shoulder, relaxed back into her plush seat and said, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

      “Then prepare for me to make a believer out of you,” Kaylea said, holding her chin—and her coffee mug—high in salute, even though her insides were a ridiculous mess of nerves just from thinking about seducing a stranger.

      Nicole chuckled and smoothed down her midnight, poker-straight hair. Kaylea mimicked the action, and swatted at her flyaway blond frizz. Why was it that Nicole’s hair remained cool and put together, despite the summer humidity, and Kaylea’s short blond locks resembled dandelion fluff? Perhaps that’s why Nicole had a date every other night and Kaylea was left home to live vicariously through one of her romance novels. Thank God they had air-conditioning at the library where they both worked. Otherwise the unruly ball of fluff that she passed off as hair would scare the patronsaway. She made a mental note to tell her parents to install another cooling appliance, because the one they had was doing little to combat the sultry Chicago heat.

      “Oh, I’m prepared, Kaylea.