“Good. Now, I’ve already said this to Art, but I’m now saying it to you. If either of you fail tonight, and if anything happens to Lilith, I will unmake you both. So, if either of you have any ideas or plans to betray me, you better make sure it’s fucking worth it.”
They both stared at me with solemn expressions, and I raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“Is that understood?”
Art and Gabriel exchanged a look before nodding.
“Yes, Sir.” They agreed in unison, and I felt my lip curl. I was going to find out who betrayed us, and I was going to make them wish they had never been made in the first place.
The way the two of them were looking at me told me they knew there would be no mercy for the culprit. I still couldn’t be sure which one of them had done it, but I would figure it out, even if I had to raze Heaven, Hell, and Earth to do it.
“A person should always choose a costume which is in direct contrast to her own personality.”
—LUCY VAN PELT, IT’S THE GREAT PUMPKIN, CHARLIE BROWN
Icould barely recognize the woman looking back at me in the mirror. Shem slid up behind me, pulling my long hair back over my shoulder. He gently kissed up the side of my neck.
“You look incredible, Lilith,” he murmured against my skin, drawing his fingers up and down my bare arms so gently that my skin erupted in gooseflesh.
Jezebel had braided half of my hair up and around my head and left the rest down, curling it into long, loose waves that hung down my shoulders.
The dress Shem had chosen for me was made out of a fabric that I was certain didn’t exist on Earth. It seemed to be made of black liquid. It clung to my curves so intimately that it left nothing to the imagination. The sleeves draped off my shoulders, leaving my collarbones exposed, and there was a long, scandalous slit up the front of my left leg that stopped at my hips.
When I moved, the folds in the liquid silk seemed to turn to a deep crimson before my eyes, as if the material couldn’t decide what color it wanted to be. The warring shades of midnight and scarlet bled together in intricate lacelike patterns at the slightest touch.
My makeup was so expertly applied that I could barely tell I was wearing any, except for the fact that my moss-green eyes seemed impossibly large, and my lips looked too plush to be my own.
“Fucking hell, Lilith. You’re hot as fuck.” Jezebel grinned at me through the mirror as Shem continued to gently worship each piece of exposed flesh with his lips, causing me to shiver. “Ramel doesn’t stand a chance.”
“He’s going to be so pleased with you,” Shem murmured in my ear, his hot breath causing me to tighten, making my arousal painfully obvious beneath the dress. I smirked and swatted at Shem, laughing nervously.
I wasn’t sure why, but I felt strangely nervous about seeing Ramel. What if he didn’t like it? Would I care if he didn’t?
Yes, I would care. I wanted him to like how I looked. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to want me, even though he had told me time and time again that he already did.
I tried not to dwell on the sharp pang of guilt that battered through my chest at the thought that I was beginning to truly crave his affection. I couldn’t live for eternity fighting this. He had been right. I needed to try to forgive myself. I needed to try to move on and let myself be happy.
Shem laced his fingers through mine. Jezebel had taken quite a bit of time with my hands; she had painted them black with a body paint that had dried so thoroughly on my skin that it didn’t transfer when I touched things. She had tipped each finger with long, glossy black nails that were sharpened to a murderous point.
“This is what you looked like before Yahweh turned you mortal,” Shem said, his voice thick with longing and a melancholy sort of sadness. I glanced down at our entwined hands curiously.
“This is what Ramel’s hands look like when he’s in his Reaper form. Well, without the nails,” I laughed.
Jezebel came up to my other side, grinning. She had changed as well, into a backless, form-fitting cocktail dress. Just as Shem had predicted, her dress was black, but it sparkled when she moved, giving the illusion that she was wearing a piece of the night sky. Her black stilettos clipped on the ground as she stepped closer to me, making her appear much taller than she actually was.
She had been right about the pink collar. It did take away from the elegance of the outfit. Black leather would have suited her better, but I had a feeling messing with her aesthetic was part of the punishment.
She threaded her fingers through my other hand and smiled down at me.
“You ready, little Hell Queen?” she asked, the title rolling off her tongue easily. I almost laughed, but they were both watching me so seriously it suddenly didn’t seem funny. I swallowed and nodded.
“Yeah.Let’s go.”
We madeour way to the dining hall, where I was told the majority of the festivities would be held. The halls were bustling with demons who had dressed for the occasion. Females floated by in massive gothic gowns, and the men were in three-piece suits; some had gone as far as donning top hats and black gloves. All of them looked incredible. As outlandish as most of the outfits were, none of them really felt like costumes. It simply felt as if I had stepped into another time.
Every demon we passed either bowed or curtseyed to me as we walked, and I felt my cheeks flush redder and redder the closer we came to the hall.
“What is this adorable little blush for?” Shem asked, pinching my cheek playfully.
