Infernal God (Claimed By Lucifer Book 3) by Elizabeth Briggs (good books for 7th graders .txt) 📗

a teenager when Adam killed your mother the first time as part of the curse. I spent your entire childhood struggling to prove myself as the Demon King and to keep the denizens of Hell in line. But I should have spent it with you." I sucked in a deep breath as I continued. I had to get this out, or I might never have the courage or the opportunity to speak like this again. "Especially after Eve was killed. I didn't know how to handle being a father or being a king without her—and I wasn't sure how the curse worked, or if she really would return. But I should have seen how all of those things were affecting you too. I should have been a better father. I tried to do better with your brothers, but I failed you, and I'm sorry.”

He met my gaze properly, and I released a breath at the sudden connection. "Fuck. I've waited thousands of years to hear you say those words."

"I wish I hadn't waited so long to say them." I gave him a wry grin. "Maybe you wouldn't have tried to overthrow me. Twice."

One corner of his mouth curved, the half-smile bitter. “Not some of my finest moments, I'll admit."

"Do you really hate me so much you want me dead?" I asked in a low voice, almost afraid to hear the answer.

He looked down at his hands, wrapping around his drink. "No. I didn't want you dead. I have a lot of regrets. Like siding with Adam and releasing Pestilence. I tried to fix it by becoming War, but we all saw how that turned out.”

I didn’t speak. This all felt too fragile to disrupt.

“To answer your question, no, I don't hate you," he continued. "Maybe I did at various times in the past, but not anymore. But I don't regret trying to overthrow you either time. Each time I did it, you'd become out of touch with the people you ruled over, and I knew it was time for a change. No one should rule unchecked for thousands of years. That's the way to despotism. You might not have seen it, but both times the revolution was brewing behind your back even without me. I simply ignited the spark."

I considered his words, and some of the things the Archdemons had said over the last year. Many of them were unhappy that I ended the war with the angels and made us leave Hell, even though I did it to save the demon race. I had no regrets there. Still, perhaps I'd acted too harshly. Perhaps I should have consulted them more. I'd also discovered that many felt Fallen were not truly demons, and that I held my kind above all of the other demonic races. Perhaps I did, as I used them to watch over the other demons and keep them in line. Maybe Belial was right and it was time for a change, though I wasn't giving up my throne so easily.

I stroked my chin as I considered. "Your point is valid. I've started to see that some of that is true, and I’d love to talk with you more about this. Believe it or not, I do not want to become a dictator."

“Yeah, whatever.” He shrugged and sipped his drink, back to acting like he didn't give a damn, but I knew better. Like me, he cared—maybe too much, even though he would never admit it. And like me, that was often his downfall. But I was admitting it now.

I raised my glass. "Of course, now that the curse is broken and your mother is ruling beside me, I have a feeling she'll keep me in line too."

Belial managed to chuckle at that. "No doubt. Not to mention a miniature version of her running around soon."

I groaned. "That's right. It's been so long, I forgot how difficult those early years can be sometimes. I actually think I blocked out the toddler years with all of you. Especially Damien's. What a little monster he was."

Belial actually laughed at that, and we both took a sip of our drinks, settling into a companionable silence. I was having a drink with my son, and all was right in the world.

Belial cleared his throat. “I’ll leave Morningstar with you before I go.”

I started to open my mouth to accept but I waved my hand instead. “Keep it for now. I want you to be safe, wherever you are."

Morningstar was my angelic sword, forged for me in Heaven back when I'd been an Archangel. When I'd left for Hell and become a Fallen, the sword had changed, allowing it to channel both darkness and light. Only those of my blood could use the sword now, along with Hannah, since she was my mate. It would always come back to me, but for now it felt right with Belial.

He shrugged. “It’s not like I plan to use it. I’m heading back to New Orleans. Back to my bar. Back to staying out of this shit."

"I'm not sure that's possible for ones such as us, but I wish you well, and hope to see you again soon." I offered him my hand.

He took it firmly, and we shook hands, meeting each other's eyes. I looked upon my son as an equal, and he looked back at me with something other than hatred and anger.

It was a start.

20

Hannah

I leaned against Lucifer as we sped along the highway in the limo. We were fresh off his plane and he’d practically whisked me into the car without letting me catch more than a glimpse of a clear blue sky. I hated that he wouldn't tell me where we were going, but he'd said he didn't want to ruin the surprise.

As I gazed out at the freeway we were driving down, my thoughts wandered to my sons, as it often did. I wondered what they were doing now. Belial had gone back to New