Better the Devil You Know Book Three: Better the Devil You Know, #3

By Odette C. Bell

Luc and Maggie are running out of time. The Church won't stop. They're prepared to descend to any depth to kill Maggie, which includes Hell itself.
When the Church form a pact with one of Hell's generals, Luc must rely on the forbidden magic of Heaven to keep Maggie safe. But venture too far into the light, and there'll be no coming back for the Seventh Son of Satan.

….

Better the Devil You Know follows a cursed woman and a demon lord fighting to save her from a devilish plot. If you love your urban fantasies with action, wit, and a splash of romance, grab Better the Devil You Know Book Three today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odette C. Bell
• Release date: Aug 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386208099

Book preview

1

Luc

Another week, another problem. Now Maggie Brown had moved into his life, Luc, the Seventh Prince of Hell, would never have a simple life again. Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d had a simple life to begin with. As the man who upheld the Treaty between Heaven and Hell, his existence had always been a complicated one. But now? Ah, now it had the added advantage of being truly dangerous.

Maggie was seated in the old leather wingback recliner next to him, reading.

He preferred it when she was close. Though she could easily retire to the generous room he’d allotted for her and read in there, Luc liked to keep an eye on her.

As soon as he blinked, looked away, or even turned his back for a second, she would find herself more trouble.

Or at least the Church would.

Had they stopped? Had they paused in their relentless assault of Maggie, their relentless attempts to expunge her from existence? Why, of course they hadn’t. They’d been ramping up their efforts ever since the previous seven Cardinals of Pax City had failed.

Worse?

Why, much worse than that was the fact the traitorous exorcist John Godspeed was still out there.

And that fact alone made Luc pause as he brought his own book down and rested it in his lap.

While Maggie was reading some trashy urban fantasy, Luc was hard at work. The particular book in his lap was heavy, had merit, and had cost him three good men to obtain.

And by heavy, he didn’t simply mean that it was a large tome – an ordinary man couldn’t lift it. It took someone like him – somebody who’d spent their existence learning to lift their own sins – to dare open a book as dangerous as this.

Maggie glanced up several times. She did so about every five minutes, almost like clockwork, as if to check that he was still there.

And that? Why, it brought a smile to his lips, not that he would let it show.

As soon as he caught Maggie staring at him, she cleared her throat and went back to reading, but several seconds later, she darted her gaze up. Why do you keep looking at me? she asked.

I, my dear, am not the one looking at you – you are the one looking at me, he said pointedly.

Even if you aren’t technically looking at me, you were still looking at me, she emphasized.

Luc would’ve pointed out to anyone ordinary that was a foolish statement. But Maggie was everything but ordinary. She was also unusually perceptive. For Luc had been looking at her – just not with his eyes.

He cleared his throat, settled his hand on his book, and closed it with a snap. The exact snap was reminiscent of bones breaking or a body being crushed under a mountainous weight.

Though there would’ve been a time when Maggie would’ve shivered at the magical sound, she didn’t. She just leveled her gaze at Luc and frowned. Have you found a solution in that book yet? I mean, that’s why you’re reading it, isn’t it?

Luc hadn’t told Maggie anything about the book, but once again, she’d figured out the truth.

He smiled, though it was technically more of a snarl. You doubt my abilities, Maggie Brown? Do you doubt the pact I’ve made on our rings? He couldn’t even say the word ring with a controlled voice. Every time he tried, his throat would constrict, and he didn’t need to point out how terribly troublesome that was for a Prince of Satan.

If Maggie picked up on it, she didn’t let it show. She just went straight back to her original question, Have you found a solution yet?

He leveled his gaze at her and shook his head. Despite his best efforts, there was a stilted tension to the move. Because, in the comfort of his own mind, he could admit one fact – Maggie had grown on him. It wasn’t just the fact he was now making peace with the possibility they’d be together for life – or at least as long as he could keep Maggie alive and safe from the Church. It was that Maggie was… uniquely placed to see him as he was. She, as a Vessel, had an unusual ability to stare into one’s soul. And though, when this whole mess had first begun, Luc would’ve done anything to stop her from staring into the dark contents of his mind, the more they remained together, the more… alluring that prospect became. Luc had always been the more adventurous of the Seven Sons of Satan, after all. If there was a dark cave, a shadowy path, or a dangerous lair – Luc would always be the first to rush in, no questions asked.

And staring into Maggie’s gaze felt at once like the most dangerous and yet curious path a man could take.

Without ceremony, he promptly pushed the book off his lap.

Though, on the face of it, the book was old and the leather-bound cover could have easily fallen apart, it didn’t, and as the book struck the floor, the entire room shook.

Maggie blinked but didn’t jolt. So what do we do next? she went back to asking.

You continue reading your book, and I continue to do whatever I was doing before you interrupted me, he said pointedly.

Don’t you have any exorcisms to uphold? She changed the topic quickly.

He ground his teeth together. She knew full well that he had exorcisms to perform in his unique position as the man who upheld the Treaty, but it was becoming much, much harder to keep up with his work.

His father had cut him some slack. For the time being, until Luc could get to the bottom of the shadowy conspiracy around Maggie, Luc could perform his exorcisms remotely. That did not mean he borrowed a drone from Hell itself and piloted it from his living room chair. It just meant Luc could send out a doppelgänger. That wasn’t a man fortunate enough to have the same good looks as Luc. A dark doppelgänger was a particular spell that only the Sons of Satan could perform. With the right level of concentration and enough saint’s blood, Luc could split himself apart, essentially astral traveling to each exorcism and performing them while still being seated across from Maggie and keeping her safe.

But there was a limit to what he could do as a doppelgänger. As the Church would well know. A fact they were no doubt working on right now.

Luc had kept Maggie at home for the last week, only venturing out when he absolutely had to, and even then, he kept her in the car, secure and safe at hand. He didn’t park the car out on the street, either. Oh no, Luc would expend what magic he had to drive the car right into any building he required. That, to an ordinary human, sounded destructive and downright disrespectful of public property, but to a Son of Satan it was quite possible. For, with the right expenditure of magic, Luc could drive right through walls.

He’d had a meeting with a high-level General of Hell only several days ago, and fortunately the office had been large enough that Luc had been able to park his car right there before the desk.

Maggie, because she was Maggie, was getting used to this world alarmingly quickly.

He fondly thought back to the first day he’d met her. To her terror, to the shaking fear in her big brown eyes. And, more than anything, to the fact it had taken her so excruciatingly long to believe in Heaven and Hell. Now? She was quite comfortable with both. He had to admit he preferred it when she was a blubbering mess in his arms, but at least her newfound strength made it easier.

You sure… you sure you can’t give me a look at my uncle’s book? she asked out of the blue. Though she’d been strong seconds before, for the first time since she’d faced him, her voice wavered. But only slightly. Still, it was more than enough to see her underlying tension. An underlying tension that only ever revealed itself when she spoke of her uncle. The exorcist who’d made a deal with the Church to save her mother’s life.

Ah, the Browns were a complicated family. But as for that exorcist book? There would be no chance that Luc would ever let Maggie see it. For she looked strong now, but the contents of that book could break her.

He pressed a pleasant smile over his face. Or at least as pleasant as the lips of a devil would allow. I will repeat myself again, Miss Maggie Brown – you will never get your hands on that book. You won’t like the contents, he emphasized.

She let out a long-suffering sigh. We have to do something. I can’t just sit here in this chair forevermore twiddling my thumbs by your side.

He deliberately arched an eyebrow at that. You shouldn’t have made such a specific pact on your ring for life, then. Would you prefer to walk out of the door and face the Church? I’m sure they’d make quick work of you. I also guarantee it will be far more riveting than reading your trashy urban fantasy.

She made a face.

He arched another eyebrow. No? Then leave the planning to me, my dear. That being said, you should get ready.

For what? She crossed her arms, abandoning her book to the floor. Though his book had shaken the floor like a mountain tumbling to the sea, as Maggie’s struck the soft carpet, it did so with the lightest thump. Immediately, a hand rose from the very rug, gray and bony, its flesh flaking off and turning to ash before his eyes. It plucked up the book, shuffled across the carpet, and returned it to one of the massive dark-stained bookcases that lined the walls of Luc’s generous library.

When Maggie had first seen the ghost hands who were Luc’s librarians, she’d made a disgusted face. Now she barely looked up as she politely thanked the hand.

Do I have to stay in the car again? she asked.

Luc nodded.

Maggie shrugged. Will it be quick?

That will be up to General Hax.

Why does he continually get to dictate the terms of your meetings? she asked perceptively. You’re the Seventh Son of Satan, aren’t you? And he’s just a General of Hell, right?

Luc gave a specific smile – the smile of a man who had been trained to give nothing away and yet a man whose lips unavoidably stiffened at her observation. You are correct – he is below me, technically, Luc said, stressing the word technically.

So why does he get to dictate the terms of your meetings? she went right back to asking.

It was Luc’s turn to let out a long-suffering sigh. Because he’s my father’s favorite general. And even I must respect my father’s wishes, Luc said, voice careful as he said the word I.

Maggie did it again – looked up at just the right moment, caught his glance at just the right moment.

It wasn’t just that she could stare into his soul unchecked. It was that she could read his emotions, figure out when he was telling the truth – all by looking into his gaze, if only for a split second.

His stomach tightened, and he decided he’d had enough of this prying conversation. He rose, immediately bringing two hands up, grabbing the lapels of his suit, and smoothing them down.

He was in his favorite clothing – that pure white suit with slightly silver lapels that had become his trademark uniform.

As for Maggie, she was in jeans, a blouse, sandshoes, and a cardigan.

She looked decidedly frumpy.

She caught him staring at her. She looked up, a pout forming on her shapely lips. If you’re going to criticize what I’m wearing again, don’t bother. I’m just staying in the car, remember?

I do have a certain level of style to uphold. You understand that, don’t you?

You’re a Prince of Hell, not some socialite. Now let’s get this meeting done. You need to finish that book and figure out how to save me, she ordered. And it was an order.

Though Luc could have pointed out that she was in no position to order him around, instead, he fell into step behind her.

Which was easier to do than it should have been.

For Luc, the Seventh Son of Satan? Ah, he was changing, and there was little he could do to stop it.

2

John Godspeed

On the run. He’d been on the run for over a week now.

And he was good at it. Because he had to be. John Godspeed knew both sides of the coin – Heaven and Hell. Black and white. He knew how to hide from Heaven, and god knows he knew how to hide from Hell.

He was currently shifting through the subway system, a hood covering his face.

One hand was clutched around his exorcist gun. His other hand was shoved tightly into his pocket, his finger tapping against an old leather-bound book he’d just stolen from a hermit who lived deep in the tunnels.

The book was covered in blood – the hermit’s blood. The blood that had escaped the man’s neck as John had slit his throat.

Guilt.

John felt guilt. Or at least he thought he felt guilt. It was getting… it was getting harder to discern that emotion. Because it was getting harder to know his own mind. His thoughts, his feelings, his memories – they just kept jumbling together, becoming more and more complex, like strands of a chain that had knotted together.

As he thought of the word chain, he brought a hand up – the one that held his gun – and he checked to see if his exorcist cross was still around his throat.

Because John hadn’t fallen completely. Yes, he was comfortable in using all the dark arts he’d learned from his adolescence – but no, he wasn’t using them for the Devil. He was using them for God.

For God, John said, letting his lips split open, letting his eyes blast wide for a second. As they did, the light spell he’d cast on himself to see in the darkened, old, disused tunnels of the lower subway illuminated his pupils.

His left pupil was blue, while his right pupil was red. With his left pupil, he could see easily through the darkened tunnel system before him. With his right, if he concentrated, if he allowed magic to pulse through him, he could see right through walls. Not thick walls, not walls reinforced with copper or walls that had been sanctified by priests, but ordinary walls were