Lucifer Damned (Morningstar Book 3) by Percival Constantine (books to read in your 20s female .TXT) 📗

from the hook on the back. After tying the belt, he went out into the hall and started to walk towards the staircase.

The door to Belial’s room was open and he stopped to glance inside. There was nothing in there other than a chest of drawers and a twin bed, which was immaculately made. Otherwise, the room was extremely Spartan. Lucifer went on down the stairs and called out Belial’s name, but received no response. The house was empty.

Belial must have woken early—or at least earlier than noon—and already gone out. Presumably on another job for Odysseus Black. Lucifer did feel a tinge of guilt that Belial was working almost non-stop for the sorcerer, but it also seemed that the demon wanted to keep himself busy. And it wasn’t as if Lucifer gave Belial much to do lately.

Lucifer made himself a pot of coffee and once it was ready, took a steaming cup out to the pool deck. He shivered in the cool breeze, wearing nothing other than the robe. Before he lost his powers, he was largely immune to the elements. But now that he was human, Lucifer experienced an odd sort of thrill by feeling the sting of the wind against his skin.

He sipped his coffee and reached into the pocket of the robe for his phone. Lucifer leaned against the deck’s bannister and scrolled through the morning headlines. Before, he would be concerned with finding some sign of another of the Cocytus escapees. Now, he didn’t have to worry about that. All he had to do was relax and enjoy his life.

The headlines didn’t spark anything of note. Lucifer wondered what he should do for the day. There was the matter of the impending court date and once the police learned that the Miata had actually been stolen, it would be another charge. Lucifer imagined he could talk to Mara or Odysseus for a favor to get that matter taken care of. Both knew more than their fare share of crooked lawyers.

Lucifer wondered if he should perhaps find a way to thank Barbatos for being the instrument that led to the loss of his powers. Though that would be difficult, what with the demon now being a prisoner of one of the most feared loa in all creation. But he was surprisingly grateful nonetheless. Without his powers, he no longer had any responsibilities to concern himself with. And he could simply do what he’d intended to do since abdicating Hell’s throne in the first place—enjoy retirement.

As the former ruler of Hell and a fallen angel, plus with an archdemon as a bodyguard, Lucifer hadn’t put much thought into home security. There were no motion detectors, surveillance cameras, nor even a simple alarm on his home. Even since becoming human, Lucifer didn’t even consider them.

It was an oversight that this day would make him regret.

A small, metal, cylindrical device landed on the deck, just a few feet away from Lucifer. The sound drew his attention, but before he could have a chance to closely examine it, the device released a thick cloud of smoke. Lucifer started coughing and tried to wave the smoke away to clear a path back to the house.

He went in through the patio door and closed them quickly to keep the smoke out, though some followed it inside. Lucifer’s coughing continued without pause, though. He bent over the kitchen table, one hand braced against its surface, the other cupping his mouth as he hacked and coughed.

Between spurts, Lucifer heard a noise. He looked up and saw movement in the adjoining library. His powers once enabled him to weave weapons from the hellfire burning within him, so that meant there was no need to keep any physical weapons in his home. Another gross oversight.

Lucifer, still coughing, went to the kitchen counter. Mounted on the wall was a magnetic knife block. He reached for the butcher knife and pulled it free from the powerful magnet. It wasn’t a hellfire sword, but it would have to do.

He bent down and walked over to the door leading to the library. The door was open and Lucifer peered through the opening. A man was inside, wearing a balaclava that covered his entire face, save for his eyes. He wore a leather jacket and jeans, and his the leather-gloved hands held a silver revolver.

There was a wide open space between the door and the sofa. Lucifer watched the intruder, waiting for his back to turn just long enough so he could make it to the couch. The man looked away from Lucifer and that was when he made his move. He stayed low and quickly but quietly rushed across the gap.

Lucifer got down behind the sofa, his heart pounding hard against his chest. He went to the far end and peered around the corner. If he could get behind the guy, he could ambush him and cut his throat. Then that would be it.

“Ham!” the intruder suddenly called out. “The library’s clear!”

“Goddammit!” came another voice. So there were at least two.

Lucifer peered around and saw another guy come into the room. He was larger than his partner, but also wearing the same style of clothes—leather jacket, jeans, and a balaclava.

“You’re not supposed to use my name, Shem, you idiot!” said Ham.

“And you know you’re not supposed to use the Lord’s name in vain!” said the smaller one, who was obviously Shem. “Plus you just used my name!”

“That’s because you used my name first! So if my cover’s blown, so’s yours! That’s what’s fair.”

Lucifer sighed as he listened to them bicker. Great, I’m about to be killed by Heckle and Jeckle.

“Look, we’ve got a job to do. You know how important this is,” said Shem. “If we do this right, Father will know we’ve got what it takes and let us back into the guild.”

“I know that! Why do you keep explaining things to me over and over again? Just because I’m the big one doesn’t make me the dumb one,”