Page 161 of Wicked Believer
My Mother-in-Law is her own unique brand of terrifying.
And what do you even say in the presence ofthedivine Goddess? Of God’s ex?
“I heard your cries,” she murmurs to me, before she tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The back of her hand grazes the side of my cheek, and I shiver from head to toe. “How you called out for my Husband.” She tsks.
“He never answered,” I whisper.
She casts me a pitying look. “He never does.” She starts to circle, her fingers gently trailing across my exposed skin. Something about her touch feels vaguely threatening. Like with the tip of a finger, she could make me crumble into stardust.
Another tremor runs through me.
“You’re ... the Goddess of Scorned Women?” I ask.
Jax has been giving me a few lessons in the occult, in the blending of different cultures and religions. How one true figure might end up with many different variations, versions, and names. Circe. Medea. Tiamat.
Nyx. Kali. Hecate.
Lilith has hadmanynames.
“ButIheard you,” she says, her voice simultaneously behind me and around me.
I twist, desperately searching to try and find where she went, only to turn back and find three different versions of her in front of me.
I jerk back, my knees locking so I’m unable to move from the terror that grips me. Thanks, Dad. My heartbeat thrashes inside my ears. I couldn’t escape her if I tried.
She’s everywhere.
The center version’s eyes cloud with white, the autumn leaves around us swirling as a sudden gust of wind blows through the block. She lifts her arm like she’s reaching for me, but I step back. Like hell am I going to let her get any closer. The wind whips at me in a growing maelstrom, and I’m forced to duck as a plastic bag and other city debris that are now flying around us nearly hit me, only for me to realize that the other two versions of her have surrounded me, blocking me in.
Maiden. Mother. Crone.
They speak to me in unison.
Their echoed voices screeching.
“The Daughter of Chaos approaches, born to deceive; in blood, she rises in the dragon’s name. Birthed of the Holy Mother, against the will of the Father, she will strike where none dare tread. For within her she shall wield a power yet unseen by the heavens. For as it was written: ‘She who was dead shall bring forth the living to the wrath of the Last Judgment.’”
Suddenly, the two new versions of Lilith are sucked back inside her, her body giving a distinct jerk. The clouds in her eyes disappear, and in the span of my next breath, the singular version of her stares back at me again.
She claps her hands together. “Oh good. It looks like you’re going to help me fuck over my Husband, after all.” She casts a wicked smile at me before she steps forward, patting my cheek. Her eyes fall to my still-flat middle, and she wrinkles her nose. “Get to work on those grandbabies, would you?”
And with that, she turns and is gone in a blink.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Charlotte
I’m still a bit shaken when I arrive at the play party, Lilith’s prophecy playing in my head on repeat. I’m eager to tell Lucifer about it, though in the middle of ouractualengagement party isn’t the time nor the place. It isn’t until Azmodeus meets me in the penthouse foyer, dressed to the nines in a costume that makes him look like the ringmaster of a seductive circus—or tonight’s dungeon master—that I leave all thought of my Mother-in-Law behind.
“Welcome to Midnight Menagerie, Charlotte, where pleasure and pain are yours to command.” Azmodeus sweeps out his arm, using some of his power or sleight of hand to open the penthouse door, and I draw in a quick breath at the sight before me.
The penthouse has been transformed.
Slowly, I step inside, taking in the dark, kinky decor. The first floor is unrecognizable, like I’ve stepped through a door into another world, into the most luxurious BDSM dungeon I’ve ever seen. The walls and floor-to-ceiling windows are draped in black, the purple and blue glow of the neon lights blending into sensuous shades of pink that alter the space to something luscious, to something dark and seductive.
Azmodeus wraps an arm around my shoulders as he explains that all five floors of the penthouse have different themes: power exchange, sensory play, bondage and restraint, fetishes and role play, and, of course, a designated space for aftercare.
A little kinky fun for everybody.
