Page 59 of Hell's Prisoner
His eyes opened, and there was a glimmer of amusement there. “What if I only break his nose a little bit?”
I laughed. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
We were both grinning now, the tension dissipating. I didn’t think staying in Roth’s house would really be comfortable for either of us, but there was at least hope that we could exist under the same roof without any murder attempts.
NINETEEN
Joriel
I hated to admit it,but Astaroth’s house was actually comfortable. Despite being the prince of theft, he didn’t seem to have a taste for the extravagant. His house wasn’t crowded with stuff. The whole place reminded me of a very oversized farmhouse. Of course, it still had a grand entry fit for hosting balls, but even that had a country feel to it.
As for the Prince of Theft himself, he was perfectly polite. He showed us to a wing on the second floor with multiple bedrooms and sitting rooms and left us alone without giving me a single excuse to punch him in the face. Didn’t mean I forgave him. He’d ultimately been responsible for every horror Laila had faced traveling through Hell and everything she would still have to go through in the Devil’s court. And to me, that was unforgivable.
We’d picked our bedrooms, and I was currently pacing mine, wondering if I should suggest just sharing so I didn’t have to spend the whole night stressing about her safety, when there was a knock on my door.
I flung the door open and came face-to-face with a guy who was vaguely familiar. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties with streaks of gray in his black hair. It had been over four years since I’d last seen Carter Mandala. I’d honestly forgotten about my brief meeting with him and the fact that he was Astaroth’s son. I certainly hadn’t expected to see him here, in the Devil’s court.
Looking at him now, I could see the resemblance to his father as well as the obvious Indian heritage from his mother’s side.
I’d never known Carter well, but I’d met him several times while he was dating Alana, Nathaniel’s sister. That had been back when he’d been in his early twenties. Alana had only been a part of the secret order for a couple of years and she’d spent that entire time living on Earth, so she’d never really felt like a sister to me.
“Hey,” he said, running a hand through his hair. His arm and hand were heavily inked, camouflaging the leather bracelet he wore. I’d given it to him the last time we’d met. It contained a vision from Heaven, a message I wasn’t privy to.
“Hey,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
Carter shuffled his feet. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I come in?”
I held the door open wider. “I don’t think you really need my permission. It’s not my house.”
He shook his head as he walked past me and sat in one of the armchairs that furnished the room. “You didn’t stick around to hear the message when you gave me this.” He held up his hand to show off the bracelet, but I was distracted by the ink on the back of his hand. Lana was written in thick black script.
“It wasn’t my business,” I said, focusing back on the conversation.
“It told me to come here, to seek my father and tell him everything about Dantalion and the key to Lucifer’s armory that he wanted me to steal.” His lips lifted slightly. “I know it sounds nuts, but when an angel comes to give you a message from the King of kings, you listen.”
“What did he do when you told him?”
“Tried to kill Dantalion and his entire line, but turned out they were already dead. After that, he took me to Lucifer’s palace to testify before the court of the original Fallen.”
“Why are you sharing this with me?”
“I’m not expecting you to trust my father, but I want you to know that I’ve been living with him for about four years and I believe he wants to do better.”
“He’s a grand prince of Hell.”
“But he’s capable of love, Joriel. And don’t forget that he was once an angel.”
“An angel who sided with the Devil.”
Carter shrugged. “You can believe whatever you want. I’m not here to tell you what to think. I just wanted to explain how I ended up living here and give you the facts as I see them.”
He stood, and I didn’t miss the way he rubbed his thumb over the ink on his left hand.
“Carter.”
