He placed an unlit cigarette between his lips, talking around it as he said, “I have a theory. I think you don’t have any addictions because you haven’t tried anything.”
He was probably right. It was hard to get addicted to something you’d never tried.
“Is that the real reason you’re sitting here, little angel? You don’t want to risk liking anything too much?”
“Maybe I’m sitting here because I haven’t gotten a better offer.”
“Oh? And what, pray tell, could tempt you to leave your throne?”
“Nothing short of a grand prince… or king.”
He laughed. “Don’t hold your breath on that one. The only parties Lucifer attends are his own.”
“I’ll have to go to one of his parties then.”
“Good luck.” Abadon stood, holding out a hand to me in a silent offer. “The only way into the Devil’s palace is by winning a tournament of some kind or being on the arm of a winner or by being specifically invited by the man himself. Something that won’t be happening to you.”
I placed my hand in his and let him lead me to where couples and threesomes were half dancing, half seducing each other. My gaze scanned the room until I spotted Joriel about as far from this side of the room as he could get. Our eyes locked, and I silently urged him to join us.
“No one’s mentioned anything about tournaments to me before.”
“Each prince hosts one a year. Sathanas is the host this month.”
I slipped my arms around Abadon’s neck, my real focus on Joriel, who was only a few feet away now. Only a week ago, I’d promised myself I’d never use any of my powers on him again without his permission, but I didn’t see a way around it at the moment. I sent him a quick vision of what I wanted, telling myself it was just another form of talking. I wasn’t making him believe anything that wasn’t real, just giving him a single image. But I still felt guilty.
“Can anyone enter these tournaments?” I asked, focusing back on my dance partner.
“Anyonecan, but you aren’t going to want to compete in Sathanas’s tournament.”
“Why?”
“Because most don’t survive the attempt to become the Prince of Wrath’s champion. Whatever you want from Lucifer isn’t worth it, Laila.”
Warm hands slid up my arms from behind. Joriel’s fingers slipped under the strap of my top and slowly pulled it down, baring my shoulder. His lips followed its path a second later.
I smiled up at Abadon. “Your faith in me is overwhelming.”
His grip on my waist tightened. “It has nothing to do with my feelings about you. It’s a simple fact.”
“Because I’m not a demon?” I asked, trailing a finger over the buttons of his dress shirt.
His thumbs brushed over my bare stomach. “Because you don’t have the skill to win in a fight to the death with demons who have been training for this their whole lives.”
“You sound almost concerned,” I said with a sweet smile. “Would you miss me if I died?”
Abadon’s eyes darkened, and Joriel growled behind me. Neither of them seemed pleased by the casual mention of my death. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, little angel.”
“Convince me to stop playing,” I said with a coy smile.Come on, tell me how else I can get into Lucifer’s palace.
“I can’t, and I shouldn’t have to. What can Lucifer offer you that no one else can?”
I stared up at Abadon, watching him closely as I asked my next question. “After living in this court for millennia, would you choose to stay here if you had the opportunity to leave?”
“This is my home, where I belong.”
It wasn’t an answer, not really.
Abadon bent his head, his lips closing in on mine. A hand tugged on my hair, pulling my head back, and Abadon’s lips met my throat.
