Page 50 of Metatron
The pallor on Astaroth’s face showed his realization of how much he’d misjudged.
“My Lord, my apologies. It’s been too long. I forgot myself.” He hit the ground prostate, forehead touching. He would have most likely kissed the big black boots if they were within reach.
“You’re right, it has been too long, and I find myself with no room or patience for another upstart prince.”
“My lord, please,” Astaroth begged. “I brought you a gift. Behold the leader of the rebellion on Earth.”
“A woman?” The devil scoffed.
“It’s common on this planet for them to be in positions of power.”
“She doesn’t look powerful to me.”
“She was the archangel’s lover.” A desperate Astaroth kept throwing me under the bus.
Satan’s glance flicked to me, and I hid a shudder of revulsion as he passed a black tongue over his lips. “You brought me an angel’s whore, tainted by their touch, and call it a gift?”
“I have others. Take them all.”
“As if I have need of them. Soon the entire planet will be mine and I will have my pick.”
“I can help you with the invasion. The humans are crafty. They’re planning an attack.”
“Let them. My legion grows bloated. This will cull their numbers.”
“I know this world,” Astaroth insisted.
Satan didn’t care. “I don’t see how you provide anything of value. All that time and yet you never became that world’s overlord. Pathetic, like the one who sired you. A waste of my time.” Satan sat back in his seat before waving his hand.
I hardly had time to remember that Azeroth had claimed his father was Belial. I blinked as I processed what happened next.
Astaroth lost his head. Like it literally left his shoulders and rolled into a lava pool with a splash just as the spinning rack had its prisoner head down. Said prisoner had half his face burned off, which led to the devil grunting. “Cut him down and fetch me a new one.”
Chilling words, but what turned my blood to ice? When that gaze turned on me and a thoughtful expression took over. “What should I do with you?”
I almost blurted out, “kill me.” It would be kinder than the cruelty I saw all around.
For once, brave words failed me.
The devil rose and came down the steps, looming over me, his skin exuding heat and a scent that could only be brimstone. He grabbed me by the chin, his touch burning my flesh as he turned my head left and right to look at me.
“Older than I usually take to bed but attractive enough. I’ll need new heirs once I’m done throwing the useless at the planet’s defenses.” He released me and barked, “Put her in a cage. I’ll deal with her later.”
Before I could protest, the cyclops grabbed me and carted me to a cage opposite that of the angel. Thrust inside, I could only hold on to the bars as they hoisted me above a lava pit.
A prisoner in Hell.
Could this day get any worse?
Chapter 15
The Atlantis left—the massive ark not taking any chances now that Heaven and Hell posed a problem—while Metatron fine-tuned his plan to get aboard Hell. Despite Zilla’s willingness to put herself in danger, he couldn’t accept. If he failed, which seemed most likely, Zilla might be destroyed or captured, leaving his angel brothers stranded if the defense of the planet failed. He wouldn’t do that to them, not for a rescue mission he recognized as being foolhardy. The terrible odds didn’t stop him from planning, though.
If he wasn’t going to use Zilla, then he needed another vessel to reach Hell. One not likely to draw attention. So first step, locate a Hell scout ship. Once located, disguise himself as one of the crew and sneak aboard. Then, manipulate it so the scout returned to Hell.
Zilla approved the plan. “You’re going to Trojan Horse your way in.”
“What’s that mean?”