Infernal God (Claimed By Lucifer Book 3) by Elizabeth Briggs (summer reads TXT) 📕

"Thanatos," she said in a low, menacing voice. I was impressed she remembered his name from all those years ago.

His haunting eyes landed on me again. "I see you finally broke the curse. Certainly took you long enough."

My hands clenched into fists at my side at the reminder of what he'd done to us all those centuries ago. How he'd managed to haunt us even while locked in a tomb for thousands of years.

"Not all of us are so eager to bring death upon those we love," I said through gritted teeth.

"You always were weak." Death raised himself from my throne like he still hadn’t gotten used to controlling a body and all of the articulated joints yet. He rolled rather than walked toward us, his limbs strangely fluid. "No matter. I've taken over as the rightful King of Hell, a role that's been vacant since you saw fit to abandon this realm."

"I am still the King of Hell."

He laughed again. “Don’t waste your breath. Your people need someone strong to lead them, someone who will rebuild Hell and make it a true land of the dead. Once that is done, I'll spread my kingdom to Earth, then to Heaven and Faerie." He indicated the angels and the fae in my army. “How nice of you to bring representatives.”

"We're not going to let you do that," Hannah said.

"Why would you stop me?" His eyes narrowed as he studied us closer. "Even if you could, which we all know is impossible, you are War and Famine. Your purpose is to serve me, the leader of the Horsemen, as we take over all the worlds and remake them in our image." He indicated everyone around us, and gestured wider still, like he could encompass all of the realms. “Come, let us rule together. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, as prophesied, as it should be.” He stretched his mouth into a grin. A grimace. A leer. “We can put the past behind us.”

“Hannah and I will never work with you," I replied. It wasn’t like I was being presumptuous, speaking for my mate. Not when our baby was trapped in a fucking cage made of bones.

“Give me my daughter back.” Hannah spoke in a voice like steel. It was a cold, hard demand, but Death laughed again.

"I can't do that." He stole a quick look over his shoulder and flicked Aurora a small wave, just a little movement of his fingers. "I have big plans for my granddaughter."

"What plans?" I asked.

“I'm going to raise her as my own. My little prodigy. A perfect blend of light and dark with the added essence of an Elder God. She will learn from me and rule by my side. She’ll be the child you weren’t, the child you could never be. And one day, when she’s older, she’ll be the perfect host.”

“You fucking bastard.” As if I didn't already have enough reason to stuff him into the Void. No way was he raising my daughter to be his next body. "You won't harm a hair on her body, and you won't rule anything, because we're stopping you today."

"You can't stop Death. I'm inevitable."

"We'll see about that." I gave my army the signal they’d been waiting for, and they let out a triumphant roar and began to march forward. I turned to Belial, who'd landed just behind me, and handed him the key to Hell. "If anything happens, get our family out of here."

He nodded and flew off toward the cages, with his brothers beside him. It was the only thing I could do to make sure they were safe should Hannah and I fail. Of course, if we failed, nowhere would be safe. Not from Death.

Hannah and I shared a look, one of love and devotion and fierce determination, and I pulled her close and kissed her hard, in case it was the last time. She clung to me tightly like she would never let me go, and then we stepped back.

She sighed as she glanced toward the throne. "Time to save the world again."

"I'll take my father. You deal with Pestilence."

"Gladly," she said. "I love you."

"I love you too. Always."

I released my wings and let my fury free, feeling it race through my body, dragging heat and electricity with it. I crackled with rage, and the part of me that was War gave me strength. It reminded me that even before I was War I was made for battle, forged from death and light to be the fiercest of Heaven's warriors, then remade into the Prince of Darkness, the Father of Lies, the King of Demons.

If anyone could defeat Death, it was me.

33

Hannah

As Lucifer and I flew toward Death, the monster lifted his arms and a wave of power rolled out of him. It didn't do anything to the two of us, nor to our soldiers, but instead settled over the land with a murky purple light. Mere seconds later, skeletal hands burst out of the ground as corpses came back to life. Dust gathered and reformed into undead soldiers, both angels and demons who had perished over thousands of years during the Great War. Others were more recent corpses, their skin hanging off or in various stages of decay, their wings ragged, their light long extinguished. They charged toward our army, along with the others Death and Pestilence had gathered to fight for them.

Zel rattled the bones of her cage uselessly, her face a mask of rage as Pestilence spread sickness over the shifters rushing forward. Boils broke out over their skin and they became graying, dying shadows of themselves. They raced in among our army, becoming walking contagions. Theo leaped up on his leather wings and flew into battle with them, his stone skin protecting him from Pestilence's plague.

The roaring cries of war filled the air as angels, demons, fae, and undead collided, but I only had eyes for one man. Adam. He’d killed