“Thanks so much, Dr. Asshole,” I huffed. “But I'll pass.”

  “Do you ever sleep with more than one of them at a time?” Raphael helped me maneuver through the crowd of angels lining the bar.

  “Not your business.” I gave him an angry look.

  “Sorry.” He held up his hands. “Just curious. If you did, anal would be a good option. I'm told there's nothing like double penetration for a woman.”

  “Raphael, I will doubly penetrate your ass with both my feet if you don't stop talking about anal,” I growled.

  “My kind of woman,” the bartender, a man with wide shoulders shown off in a mesh tank, said as he looked me over. “I'm off in half an hour.”

  “She's not interested,” Raphael answered for me. “What she is interested in is finding an angel named Marjorie. We were told she works here.”

  “Marjorie?” The bartender frowned. “Why are you looking for her?”

  Raphael pulled out a silver coin and pointedly placed it on the bar. The bartender's eyes went to it and then back to me. He pushed the coin across the bar toward Raphael and then leaned on the polished wood to get closer to me. He crooked his finger at me and grinned. I glared at him.

  “Come here,” he cajoled. I leaned forward, and he whispered in my ear, “There's a stockroom behind the bar. I have a strap-on back there. If you fuck me with it, I'll take you to Marjorie.”

  “As tempting as that is,” I said as I pulled away, “I'm going to pass. But I do have a counter offer.”

  “What's that?” The bartender grinned eagerly.

  “Take me to Marjorie or I'll sing a spell to make your dick fall off,” I said sweetly. “Then you can get fucked in the front and the backdoor.”

  Raphael groaned as the bartender paled.

  “You're her,” the bartender whispered.

  “You promised to let me handle things,” Raphael growled.

  “I was just answering his question,” I said innocently.

  “You're not supposed to be here,” the bartender said and then gave Raphael a long look. “With the Commander of Security, no less. What's going on here?”

  “I told you; we're looking for Marjorie,” Raphael said calmly. “Now, take us to her.”

  “The fuck I will,” the bartender growled. “Not with Lucifer right next door. He has a sixth sense for insubordination”

  “Next door?” I frowned. “What's next door?”

  “Redemption,” the bartender said.

  I looked at Raphael.

  “The slave pits,” Raphael explained with a sigh. “The fighting arena where a slave can win his or her freedom.”

  “A fighting arena?” I snarled.

  “Elaria, you promised to not start anything,” Raphael reminded me.

  “That was before I knew there was an arena like the one I just got free of,” I grit out. “Except your arena isn't full of criminals, is it?”

  “It's not my arena, Elaria,” Raphael snapped at me. “If you recall, I left the Host because of things like that.”

  “And then returned to free your god,” I countered. “And yet, he hasn't implemented any of the changes you wanted. What's the difference between having Lucifer or Jesus in charge?”

  “Shh,” Raphael looked around warily as the bartender stepped back as if he expected lightning to strike. “Don't talk like that here.”

  “Why not?” I narrowed my gaze at him suspiciously. “Aren't people allowed to speak freely under Lucifer's rule?”

  “I thought you were beginning to trust him?” Raphael hissed. “You know things are unstable now. He has guards everywhere; reporting to him on anyone who might rebel.”

  “So what?” I shrugged. “The point of me being here is for him to show me he's changed. I have nothing to prove to him. What's he going to do; arrest me?”

  Raphael grimaced. “Elaria, that's not the point. If the Host sees or hears you disparaging Lucifer, it could undermine his authority.”

  “He's more powerful than I am.”

  “But your power isn't only within your body,” Raphael reminded me. “You have lovers and friends with power too, and they will come here and attack us if they feel you're in danger. You know that's why Lucifer wants your approval; he doesn't want to worry about fighting a war while he wins back Angelus.”

  I looked at the bartender, who stood gaping at us, and Raphael cursed.

  “This isn't the place for this conversation,” Raph snapped. Then he turned his glare on the bartender. “Take us to Marjorie, now!”

  “Yes, Commander!” The bartender hurried out from behind the bar and ran off toward a hallway on the right.

  We hurried after him. Doors lined the corridor he took us down; each one with disturbing sounds filtering through them. The bartender stopped outside one marked: Stables. I nearly groaned. I had an inkling of what would be going on inside. That silly, horse, role-play stuff. If I had to watch Marjorie prance around in a saddle and bit with a tail hanging out of her ass, I was going to be seriously perturbed.

  The bartender waved at the door and then ran away. Raphael and I shared a hesitant look, and then he opened the door. We stood on the threshold, jaws hanging open and eyes glued to a small stage at the other side of the room.

  Marjorie was not dressed like a horse. She was not dressed at all; completely bare of everything including her wings. Marjorie was on the stage, bent over a padded bench similar to the ones in the ass aisle, but not chained to it. Not restrained in any way. In fact, Marjorie had a sweet smile on her face as she gleefully spread her ass cheeks to receive the most enormous cock I'd ever had the misfortune of laying eyes upon.

  “Stables,” I whispered. “Got it.”

  A centaur stood over Marjorie, horse legs set to either side of her body and massive member splitting her in two as she begged for more. Marjorie looked as if she were enjoying it more than him, in fact. I peered into the shadows of the stage wings and saw more centaurs waiting in line for their turn at Marjorie's ass. Angels knelt beside them, stroking their cocks with oiled hands; keeping them hard for the main attraction.

  In front of the stage, more angels sat in armchairs, sipping drinks while they enjoyed the show. The Centaurs were obviously slaves, each one wore a collar that reminded me of the ones Cer and I had sported in the zone arena. Except the Centaurs' collars didn't subdue magic; they were normal pieces of leather with loops on them that attached to chains. Straight up slave collars. And the Centaurs weren't the only slaves in the room.

  Slaves from several races knelt before the angels in the audience, performing oral sex on their masters while they casually watched Marjorie. The sounds of their ministrations would have doubtless been significant except they faded beneath the steady slaps of centaur parts against angel ass. I was on the verge of going postal.

  All my admiration for Lucifer disintegrated into the vat of bubbling acid in my belly; curdling upward and threatening to make me vomit. I had truly started to trust him; to believe in him. Now, I just felt sick.

  “Take a break, everyone,” Raphael said crisply.

  They all turned to look at Raph in surprise; all except for Marjorie. She just kept moaning, and when her centaur partner stopped moving, she moved back onto him, impaling herself.

  “Get out,” Raphael said when no one moved. “Now! Everyone but Marjorie get out of this room.”

  The Angels fled with their slaves; shoving rapidly drooping members back into their pants or quickly pulling on their panties as they hurried out. Meanwhile, the working stiffs—oh, that was a bad choice of words—the working angels led the Centaurs out by chains attached to their collars. The one who had been with Marjorie withdrew wetly, cast a dark look our way, and then followed the rest of his people. Marjorie remained as she was.

  “Marjorie?” Raphael asked as he stepped over to her. “Hello?”

  “Are you fucking me next?” She asked him hopefully.

  “No, we just want to talk to you.” Raphael looked at me with a baffled expression. “Is this her?”

  “Yep,” I said as I stepped up. “Marjorie, do you remember me?”

  She looked over her shoulder at me, frowned, and then grinned. “Sure! You're the Spellsinger.”

  “Could you sit up, sweetheart?” Raphael asked gently.

  Marjorie blinked and finally let go of her ass cheeks. She straightened and then shakily stumbled to her feet. Raphael caught her when she swayed and then helped her into a seat. She winced when as she settled.

  “Are you here willingly?” I asked her.

  “Of course,” she said with a bemused expression. “Why wouldn't I be?”

  “Because just a few days ago you worked at the palace,” I said. “You passed me a letter warning me about Lucifer.”

  “Oh, that.” She laughed and shrugged. “We didn't understand that he truly wants the best for us. I do now.”

  “But he made you leave the palace,” I insisted.

  “And gave me the freedom to do whatever I wanted,” she said. “I'm grateful. I've always wanted to work here.”

  “Really?” I asked skeptically.

  “It's bliss.” She sighed deeply. “I've never been happier.”

  I grabbed her chin suddenly and stared into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated. That could have partially been due to the dim lighting but not entirely; they were huge. She smiled up at me, not at all concerned that I was manhandling her.

  “She's drugged!” I said accusingly to Raphael as I let her go.

  “Elaria, she's not.” Raphael sighed and shook his head. “Listen to her words; they're not slurred. She may have had a drink to relax but she's not drugged. Some angels simply enjoy rough sex; we've been around long enough that normal sex becomes boring.”

  “Marjorie, did someone give you anything strange to eat or drink?” I asked her. “Did Lucifer give you something?”

  “Lucifer? No, I don't think so,” she murmured as her gaze went distant. “He told me why I had to leave the palace, and I left with the others. That was it.”

  “Which others?” I asked. “Who went with you?”

  “Um... there were about twenty of us,” she said. “Jacinda, Thomas, Frederick, Nila, Henry—”

  “Okay, that's enough,” Raphael angrily cut her off. “You wanted to find Marjorie, and we did. Here she is; alive and well.”

  “You call this well?” I waved at her. “Come on, Raph; you know this feels wrong.”

  Raphael's jaw clenched as he stared at Marjorie. Finally, he asked her, “Do you know what happened to the others?”

  “The other what?” Marjorie asked.

  “The other angels who left the palace with you,” he clarified.

  “Oh, sure,” Marjorie said. “We're all here.”

  “All of you came to work here?” I asked as I slid a cynical look at Raph.

  “Yes,” she said. “We just love getting fucked up the ass.”

  Raphael cursed.

  “You know there is no way that twenty angels all decided to come work here willingly. The odds of that are astronomical.” I made a face at my inadvertent pun. Ass-tronomical indeed. “What did he do to them, Raph?” I growled as I pointed at Marjorie. “What could make her like this?”

  A tick started beneath Raphael's left eye.

  “Raphael?!”

  “Only one thing could change an angel like this,” Raphael said softly. “The fruit from the Tree of Knowledge.”

  Aha! Kyanite shouted. I knew it!

  “The fruit you tried to get me to eat?!” I shouted back.

  Raphael gaped at me. “What? I would never do that, Elaria.”

  “Raphael, you took me into the Garden and handed me fruit from that tree,” I said slowly. “You said it would give me clarity.”

  “Bullshit!” He hissed. “That fruit doesn't give you a clear head. It does the opposite; it lowers your defenses and makes you open to suggestion. Lucifer created the tree as a way for him to share his knowledge with us; our mind would open, and he could then fill it. But toward the end of his rule, the knowledge he imparted was more of a command. He started to use the fruit to force angels into behaving. Anyone who... opposed... him...” Raphael trailed off as he realized what he'd said. “Shit!” He looked back at Marjorie with dawning horror.

  “Anyone who opposed him? As in a bunch of rebels trying to free his captive spellsinger?” I asked pointedly.

  “Yeah,” Raphael whispered. “Anyone like that got force-fed the fruit.”

  “Raph, how long do the effects last?”

  “A day at the most,” he said. “If Lucifer fed the fruit to Marjorie and her friends, they'll be off it by morning most likely.”

  “And then they'll be fed more,” I surmised.

  “No; this can't be true,” Raphael protested. “Perhaps some of the angels did this without consulting Lucifer. Perhaps they thought they—”

  “Raphael!” I snapped my fingers in his face to get his attention. “The reason I asked is that I think he may have used it on you.”

  Raphael's face went slack.

  “You took me to that garden, Raph,” I insisted. “First, you said that you'd tell Lucifer to let me go when we returned to the palace; that you didn't want me forced to be here. Then you took me into the Garden and showed me the trees with their golden fruit. You offered me a fruit from the Tree of Knowledge to 'clear my head.' I refused and you tossed the fruit into the flowers.”

  “I did?” He asked in a horrified whisper.

  “I swear to you that you did,” I said. “Kyanite stopped me from eating the fruit, and we both wondered why you'd cast it aside if it were so damn precious.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he whispered.

  “Lucifer took my mind easily when I first saw him,” I mused. “Why would he have to use fruit to control the Angels, or me, for that matter?”

  “Controlling one mind, maybe even a few more, would be nothing for him,” Raphael said as if he were trying to work it out. “But it takes focus. He can't be constantly focused on controlling several minds. The fruit makes it easier for him.”

  “We need to free these angels,” I said firmly.

  “We can't,” he whispered. “If Lucifer finds out, he'll know we're onto him.”

  “He'll already know we're onto him when he's told that we came here,” I pointed out.

  “I can convince him that seeing Marjorie proved his innocence to you,” Raphael argued. “But if we free her, he'll know for certain that we've figured it out.”

  “Then what do we do?” I waved at Marjorie. “Just leave her here and pretend nothing's wrong?”

  “Yes, that's exactly what we do. In fact, we should join Lucifer next door; be up front and tell him we were here before his spies report to him.”

  “Fuck, Raph!” I shook my head. “You know I won't be able to watch an arena fight without getting furious. I'll attack him; verbally and possibly physically.”

  “Do it; it will be an honest reaction,” he said. “Let Lucifer defend himself. Maybe he can explain all of this.”

  “Raph,” I said gently as I laid a hand on his shoulder. “You know Lucifer can't explain this away. He may want to be a better god, but I'm afraid the Devil is bubbling back up. I, more than anyone, can understand that. But I can't let it happen.”

  “Elaria, he's free,” Raphael whispered. “It's too late to put him back in the lake.”

  “What lake?” Marjorie asked with a smile.

  “Shit!” Raph cursed. “I fucking forgot that she was there.”

  “Go back to the stage, Marjorie,” I said gently. “Hopefully, you won't have to suffer for long. I promise I will not forget about you.”

  “I'm not suffering,” Marjorie said brightly as she went to the stage and bent over her bench again. “This is Heaven.”

  “Who knew Heaven could be such a fucking hell?” I grimaced from Marjorie to Raph as he cursed again.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “You have to hand it to him,” I said as we stalked next door to Redemption. “It's a perfect punishment for someone who tries to fuck you over.”

  “Making sure they get fucked up the ass for eternity?” Raphael asked with a scowl. “Yeah; it's enough to make me worry about messing with him.”

  “Oh, it's all fun and games when we're talking about me taking it up the ass but when it comes to you, you clench up,” I teased him.