Fallen Reign (Se7en Sinners Book 4)
I release an annoyed breath then snatch the garments from him to stalk to my room, knowing he’s absolutely right. I told myself I had to be willing to do anything—be anything—to find Legion. So if I have to dress like a sex kitten for the night, so be it.
I try on the skirt and top combo, wondering how the hell I’m expected to wear a bra with it. I don’t care what’s hot for the season, exposed nipple is not happening.
“I’m not coming out!” I call out after Lucifer knocks on the door. “Give me something else.”
Within minutes, he returns with another outfit for me to try. Then another. And another. I swear, I must have tried on everything on that rack before settling on a chic, yet dangerously sexy, halter style black dress with a front slit. And judging by the various oohs and ahhs from the glam squad, I look pretty good. But it’s Lucifer’s expression that tells me that it’s the one—this is the dress.
“You look stunning!” Julian exclaims. “Jarvis, Sofia…time to work your magic!”
I endure another two hours of torture, courtesy of hair and makeup. Ok, that’s a bit dramatic. Jarvis and Sofia are actually really nice, and I appreciate the friendly chatter. They fuss like brother and sister, reminding me even more of Lilith and Andras. I reject all urges to tear up and instead focus on the night ahead. I have no idea what to expect, and I don’t believe that’s an oversight. My guess? Lucifer is keeping his plans close to the vest to avoid scaring me off.
When I’m all glammed up, my hair pinned in an elegant yet sensual updo and my eyes smokier than the bear, I take a deep breath and step into the common area. Sofia and Jarvis look like proud parents. Julian looks like he may weep. And Lucifer…Lucifer looks exquisite.
The black on black is striking against his light skin, making his eyes sparkle like amethyst. He doesn’t bother with a tie. Instead, the top couple buttons are left undone, tempting my gaze with the sight of his throat and chest. In one hand, he holds a pair of black strappy stilettos. In the other, he holds my fate.
“Put these on,” he orders smoothly, bending down to place the shoes on the floor.
My first instinct is to complain about the height of them, but I’m trying to be less pessimistic, and more open-minded. And I obviously can’t wear my sneakers with this dress.
When I step towards him, fully prepared to slip them on, he gently takes my foot and guides it into the shoe. His fingers graze my sole, sending an oxygen-stealing thrill up my spine. When he does the same with my other foot, I have to grasp his shoulder for support, trying desperately not to notice the way his muscles flex and harden under my fingers.
“Ready?” he remarks, gracefully righting himself.
I swallow and give a pensive grin, my mouth suddenly dry. I should have had some of that champagne. “Yeah. Ready.”
Our chauffeured car takes us uptown, to an area lined with historic mansions I’ve only seen on Travel Channel specials. We stop at one that’s particularly grand, from its tall, white pillars to its wrap-around balcony. However, it appears that no one is home.
Lucifer steps out first, not bothering to wait for the driver, and holds out a hand for me. Reluctantly, I take it, and I’m instantly back in that cold, damp basement, following the Devil into Hell. But this time, I’m going willingly.
“Are you sure this is the right place?”
Lucifer nods. “Yeah. This is it.”
“But it doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
He lifts a palm and waves it across the space in front of us, brushing away the illusion of a darkened mansion and revealing something I absolutely did not expect. A party is in full swing, disco lights flashing, music pulsing, and bodies grinding. But it appears that we’re both overdressed. Because most of the party guests are nude, or pretty damn close to it. And they’re doing more than just dancing. Many of them are—holy shit—fucking.
“Oh hell no,” I say, turning back towards the car. Lucifer grabs my arm before I can grasp the door handle.
“You want answers. This is where they are.”
“At a sex party? What the fuck, Luc! There are people legit banging on the lawn! Multiple people.”
And that’s not an exaggeration. Men with women, men with men, women with women, men with women with women with men…how the hell is this even possible?
“I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to be one of those people. But you do have to be one of those people who won’t squirm at the sight of an orgy. You want to find the source of the sin? You go where it is in concentrated doses. Right now, you’re not Eden, Nephilim hunter of evil. You’re Eden, badass seductress that’s willing to con her way into the Dark’s lair.”
“The Dark? You mean like…”
“Like Niko. The occupant of this home is Dark. What you know of the prince and his brother, the Dark King, is not typical. They’ve acclimated to live amongst humans. The Dark by nature are much more deviant, sexual, and cunning. They are the rulers of night. And you know what happens in the dark.”
“I know, but…” I shake my head. Irin’s frisky little parties were bad enough. This is one of those on Molly.
Against all better judgment, I let Lucifer lead me past the front yard fuck-fest and to the opened door. He stops and turns to me just before we cross the threshold.
“You’ll be ok,” he quietly promises. “We’re just here for information, and to get that, we need to charm the hostess.”
“The hostess?”
There’s no need for him to answer, because the moment she steps into view, her curvy, flawless frame poured into a dangerously short strapless dress, I know it’s her. Skin the color of alabaster, blue eyes that dance with enticing delight, and raven curls nearly down to her ass.
She’s every man’s wet dream. Maybe every woman’s too.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” she purrs on approach. Her azure gaze flicks to me, as if she’s sizing me up for a meal. “And I see you’ve brought me a gift.”
Lucifer squeezes my hand, giving me the much-needed courage to step forward to greet our hostess.
“I never show up empty-handed,” he croons, his voice taking on the sinuous tone he uses just before he rips someone to bits. “Eden, I’d like you to meet—”
Before he can finish, the sex goddess leans forward and kisses me on both cheeks.
“Welcome to my homecoming party, Eden. I’m Aurora.”
Aurora.
I know that name.
I know it and…
Shit.
This is the Aurora. Dorian’s ex, and the one who conspired with Stavros to kill Gabriella.
The details are fuzzy; Niko told me the story during one of the nights we commiserated over booze and fatty food. But I know it’s her.
My expression must give me away, because she smiles like the cat who caught the canary.
“You know who I am.”
“She’s just a little star-struck, is all,” Lucifer quickly cuts in before I blow everything to hell. “It’s not every day you meet the goddess of desire.”
Aurora laughs, but it’s forced. “Don’t think compliments will make me any less suspicious of your presence here, Master. I know what you’re here for.”
“Then you know I can tear you and every one of your friends to ribbons with a snap of my fingers.”
Aurora’s smile doesn’t falter, despite the threat. “You could, but then you wouldn’t get the information you seek. And while you could also send me back to Hell, I’d only slip back out, now that the gate has been left wide open.”
“This is true. But wouldn’t it be so fun to do it anyway?”
The two share a morbid chuckle, leaving me to look between them in confusion. Aurora seems to find that amusing.
“Aw, look at her. She’s adorable, Lucifer. Where have you been hiding this one?”
“Away from the likes of you. You’d eat her alive, Aurora.”
“Mmmmm,” she moans stepping so close to me that her nipples brush against mine. “I stil
l might do that.”
I swallow, trying to come up with a response. What is my role here? Lucifer’s pet? His date? Her date? Maybe I was right about Lucifer trying to Pretty Woman me, because I sure as hell feel like I’m being prostituted. And while I’d like nothing more than to tell them all to go fuck themselves, I don’t want to blow our cover. Aurora has information that we need. However, I’m not willing to fuck for it.
“Enjoy the party,” Aurora says, stepping back and releasing me from her claws. “I’ll come find you when it’s time.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I harshly whisper the second Aurora is out of earshot. “What the hell was that?”
“Calm down, Eden,” Lucifer says, his voice calm. Yet, his grasp on my elbow as he leads me deeper into the house, away from prying eyes and ears, is anything but gentle. “If I would’ve told you, you wouldn’t have agreed to come. And I knew that if I showed up alone, Aurora would have perceived it as a threat. She believes that the mere presence of one of my pets will lessen the chances of me burning this place to the ground with her and all her sycophants inside.”
“So I’m a prop.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“You’re an asset. You’re the reason she didn’t flee as soon as I arrived.”
I try to keep my focus trained on him and not on the live sex shows going down on almost every solid surface. To be fair, there are several people just talking, or even just making out. And the sex isn’t raunchy or punishing. It’s almost sensual, as if every being has been overcome with uncontainable desire and wants nothing more than to share their passion.
Still, I’ve seen more cock and tits in the past five minutes than I’ve seen in my entire life.
I release an aggravated breath and try to think logically about the situation. I had to have known this mission would get messy. And I told Lucifer I wasn’t here for a relaxing vacation of sightseeing and fine dining. So this is it…this is my test. This is my chance to prove that I can and will do whatever it takes to shield the world from evil…from Legion.
“So what’s the plan?”
“Well, for starters, you can act like you actually like me. Uncross your arms, straighten your back. Act like you’re the sexiest, most desirable fucking thing who has ever walked in here, and believe that everyone wants a piece of you. Aurora is drawn to raw sensuality. She’s an Orexis. For her, sex is power.”
“An Orexis?”
“One of the eight royal houses of the Dark. Orexis magic is borne of desire.”
Which explains all the naked, writhing bodies. This isn’t just a party, I assume. She’s building strength—feeding off their lust.
I drop my arm and lift my chin, taking a steeling inhale of air. I’ve never been told that I was overtly sexy, but I can pretend.
“Ok. I’m ready.”
I let Lucifer take the lead, my hand resting on his arm while I sashay beside him, doing my best to exude confidence. Which is easier said than done when half my mind is focused on my obscenely high heels and not tripping over my own feet. I’m so out of my element. Yeah, I played the naughty angel for the Se7en during my first party at Irin’s, but this feels different. Like everything we’ve all fought and bled for is dependent on my performance.
Lucifer stops at a table lined with glasses of champagne, and I’m grateful as hell. I grab a glass and down it in just a few swallows before he can stop me.
“Easy,” he murmurs when I pick up another.
“You tell me I need to be the hottest bitch in here, and you expect me not to need liquid courage?” I don’t gulp this one, but take a sip. “This is all new to me.”
“Being a hot bitch? I find that hard to believe. You’re incredibly sexy, Eden.”
I roll my eyes, but it does nothing to fight off the betraying blush of my cheeks. Bastards. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious. If you stopped trying to repel everyone you come in contact with, maybe someone would have had the chance to tell you. I’m not going to be a condescending pig and tell you that you need to smile more or some shit like that. But the constant scowl? You talk about my crow’s feet. Those frown lines aren’t doing you any favors.”
My first instinct is to punch him in the arm, even playfully, but I stop myself. I’m channeling my inner vixen. Plus, there are eyes on us…a lot of them. I can feel them.
I dip my head back a bit, showing off the curve of my throat and let out a tinkling, feminine peal of laughter while my fingertips lightly caress my bare chest. Then, with my eyes low, I lazily drag my teeth over my bottom lip only to replace them with a flash of my tongue.
“Good,” Lucifer drawls, tracking every movement with his hooded gaze. “Just like that.”
Without warning, he steps in close, drugging me with his intoxicating scent of sex and deadly nightshade, and tucks a tendril of hair behind my ear. His touch lingers along my jawline before he slowly, torturously, drags his fingers down to rest on my neck.
“Are they watching?” I whisper.
“Yes. And they’re intrigued.”
I swallow. With him this close, it’s hard to think straight. “Maybe it’s you that’s drawing their interest. Maybe they’re wondering what the hell Satan is doing here.”
Lucifer releases a slow hiss, only for my ears. “They don’t know it’s me.”
“How is that?”
“They see what I want them to see. To them, I’m just like everyone else. Burning mad with need for the stunning silver-haired girl in the black dress.”
My face flames again and I resist the urge to cover it with my hands. He notices, just like he notices everything, and he brushes my cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the heat of my pooling blood.
“Don’t be bashful. Be bold. It suits you.”
We stand staring at each other, exchanging breaths, before I finally find the sense to break the spell. I step back and take another sip of my drink.
“It’s time to work. Why don’t you give me a tour?”
Lucifer recovers smoothly as if he couldn’t be less affected. He nods and extends the crook of his arm, which I take, hyperaware of the contact. We move through the crowd, stopping every few feet to take in the scene with faux fascination. I smile and flirt and touch my hair, my lips, my chest when I’m not stroking his arm. He looks at me like I’m a priceless piece of art, much like the ones he’s coveted in his home. We play our parts well, all the while tracking each room for anything suspicious. Anyone who seems disinterested or overly interested, and of course, the Demoori Sheol symbols.
After a while, my knees feel a bit weak and wobbly and it’s getting warm, so I suggest we sit. I haven’t eaten since late morning and the heels are no help. Luckily, we find a couch that isn’t currently being christened.
“See anything?” I ask in a hushed voice.
“Not what I’m looking for.”
“So you think Aurora is bluffing? What makes you think she has any information at all?”
“Because Aurora makes it a point to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong. And she has a connection to Stavros.”
“Right. She was Dorian’s fiancé.”
“And Stavros’s lover.”
I make a face of disgust before quickly catching myself. “So she was getting down with Dorian and his dad?” I hope like hell Niko isn’t on her list. That’s just a level of creepy I can’t comprehend.
“They aren’t human, Eden. Societal norms don’t apply to them.”
“Apparently.”
I squirm in my seat, trying to get comfortable. It feels like my dress is cutting off my circulation. I don’t know if it’s the champagne or the dozens of writhing bodies packed into the space, but I’m getting warmer. Not just flushed either. It’s like the heat is coming from inside me, blooming in my belly and rushing through my veins. My skin prickles with goosebumps and my breath escapes in shallow pants.
“Are you ok?” Lucifer questions, eyeing me skeptically.
“Yeah, I think,” I re
ply, discreetly tugging on my dress. “I don’t know. I feel a bit feverish.”
Fuck, please don’t be the flu. Please don’t be the flu.
“Do you feel sick?”
“No. I just feel…hot. Like I need to take this off.”
Lucifer lays a hand on my forehead and I instinctually move into the touch, almost moaning at the contact. Even though he’s warm, it feels good on my skin. I bite my lip to stifle a gasp when he begins to move his hand away.
“No,” I say grasping his hand and moving it back to my face. “Touch me. Don’t stop.”
It’s not enough. I need more of him. I need to touch, to feel, to taste.
“Eden, are you ok?” he asks again.
“Yes,” I rasp, the sound of my breathy voice foreign to my ears. “I am.”
At that exact moment, a couple approaches, both of them grinning sheepishly.
“We were just wondering…” the woman begins, her face reddened.
“If we could sit with you,” the man finishes, his inviting gaze flicking from me to Lucifer.
“Yes, please,” I insist before Lucifer can answer. I scoot closer to his body—into his heat, allowing them to squeeze into the space beside me.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This behavior is so completely unlike me, but it is. The man and woman are model gorgeous and the yearning to have them so close to me that our thighs touch is too hard to ignore. Even if I was attracted to them both, I’d never say it. I’d never act this way. But I am, and I can’t stop myself.
A waiter comes around with a tray of champagne and all of us, aside from Lucifer, take one. We clink them together and sip, each of us throwing mischievous glances over our flutes.
I should slow down. No, I should stop this altogether. I don’t know these people, and I’m in a strange house with God only knows what lurking in the shadows. But this feeling—like my skin is silk and my blood is molten lava, and every touch is a tiny orgasm—makes it impossible to resist.
“Having fun?”
I look up to find that Aurora has joined us. She’s traded her dress for a corset with little more than a scrap of lace for underwear. Thigh high stockings are hooked to a garter over legs that could go on for miles. She’s one of the most alluring creatures I’ve ever seen.