Page 195 of Awakened by Sin

“Augustus,” she repeated flatly.

“A submissive eunuch,” John said distractedly and flicked his hand, sending dots of red over the paint splattered floor. “If anyone else tended to you, you wouldn’t be breathing right now.”

“Who are you?”

John turned and spread his arms. “Come on. I know you know.”

Her temples throbbed. “I don’t know.”

“You’re underground.” He slapped the wall, leaving a red handprint behind. “You’re in mylair…” He rolled his hand as if beckoning the right answer. “You know, Carmen.”

She glanced around the majestic room that, despite its beauty, was really a fancy cave. Underground … She stared at John Smith and then shook her head. “No.”

He grinned. “Yes.”

“You can’t be Lucifer!”

He gave a mock bow. “In the flesh. Welcome to Hell.”

“But … but …” Lucifer was said to be more vicious than his father, the most feared man on the continent … and he was finger-painting in a yoga outfit. Maybe she was still high. “That’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t leave Hell.”

“Irarelyleave Hell,” he corrected as he smudged the base of his mountain to give it more shading. “But it’s come to my attention that maybe things above ground aren’t as boring as I thought they would be.”

“You mean since Gavin and Lyla were here?”

Lucifer jabbed a rust colored one in her direction. “You got it. I have terrible ennui.”

“Poor you,” she muttered.

“Life has become so predictable. Kill, kill, kill.” He waved his hand, sprinkling more paint over the floor. “I don’t know why I keep expecting to find something different in someone’s entrails. Humans are all the same.”

She tried to banish the image of a person digging through another’s human’s organs.

“But Steven brought Gavin back to me, and I realized …” He braced his elbow on the wall and leaned into his dirty hand, getting paint in his hair. “I’ve been looking in the wrong place for entertainment.”

Her muscles protested when she tensed.

“Most humans are predictable. They all want the same things. Sex, money, power, and purpose.”

She blinked. “Purpose?” She wasdefinitelystill drugged. Lucifer, the king of Hell, couldn’t be a finger-painting philosopher. No fucking way.

“The weak need someone to give them purpose.” He spread one hand on his tunic, marring the white fabric with garish scarlet. “Which is where I come in. I enslave them, hence, giving them purpose.”

His smile was wide and guileless. If she didn’t know his reputation, she might be fooled into letting down her guard. He seemed as open and friendly as a Bible salesman, which couldn’t be further from the truth. She imagined Lucifer with crazed eyes, foaming at the mouth, more demon than man, but his appearance was throwing her off. She desperately tried to reconcile the tales of the king of Hell with the man before her.

“Then there are those who want power. They come here to gain notoriety by battling it out in the pit … and that’s where they go wrong. Most die, as they should. Power is not for everyone, but for men like Gavin and me, it’s what we were destined for.”

“What do you want from me?”

He turned back to his canvas. “The same thing I want from Gavin.”

She had no fucking idea what Gavin gave Lucifer in exchange for Lyla’s life. She wished she died in the cell. Anything Lucifer planned for her would end in blood and torture. She gripped the compass pressed against her thigh. Nope. Not her.

“Good entertainment is so hard to find,” Lucifer said.

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