Lucy: Gods and Demons: Demon Prince

By Savage Tempest

You've probably noticed that Earth has not been taken over by demons.

No thanks to the Chosen One or Athena or any of the other fashion-challenged Earth gods.

You can thank me.

Lucy. Demon Prince.

The bad news is that I've decided to claim the Earth for my own—and not share it with anyone or any other bloodsucking, murderous demon. Worse news... I'm slowly losing my demonic powers, which is going to make it really hard to take over the world. Especially when you have creatures even more evil than me trying to do the same thing.

And now ordinary humans want to get in on the game too. A new technology has surfaced, giving anyone with a pulse superpowers. Athena and her fellow Judges want me to destroy this technology. Whereas, my benefactor—the one who owns the mortgage to my McMansion—wants me to steal this technology and bring it to him.

I'll have to betray one of them and deal with the unpleasant consequences later. Which could mean making a bargain with an all too powerful dead god.

All this drama to save the world... simply so I can rule it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: 3 words from
• Release date: Nov 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393049371

Book preview

Book 3: Gods & Demons

1

This wasn’t the first time one of my brothers kicked my ass. But today was different.

I curled up into a ball to protect my vitals, but Asag’s kick still hurt plenty and it sent me flying like a soccer ball. I crashed into a statue clear across the other side of the castle’s great hall, but I shook it off and jumped right back to my feet.

Now be careful where you’re crashing, Lucy. Asag strolled toward me, a sword in each hand. That’s a statue of the last Puvrilian ruler. Shame we had to destroy him and his planet.

With a mild grunt, I pulled the statue from its pedestal and hurled it at my older brother. Asag raised his left sword. The stone floor beneath him rose like a waterfall in reverse. The statue crashed straight into it and shattered into pieces.

Seconds later, Asag’s stone shield melted back into a floor as my brother shook his head. You have no respect for art.

I have no respect for you. I folded my powerful arms and took in my surroundings. Who’s loaning you this castle anyway? I’d thought you’d be more comfortable in a moldy cave or crawling under a rock—or fornicating with one.

Ungrateful little demon. Asag’s gravelly voice reminded me of cement mixer minus the charm. "Father granted you the privilege of opening the Gates of Hell, but not only do you turn traitor.

You somehow managed to kill our dearest brother Bert. Asag smiled. Putting me next in line to be Father’s favorite. Asag raised both his swords. Once I kill you.

I held up my hand. Is this the part where you finally stop monologuing and we get down to business?

Asag charged at me with both swords raised. He was three feet taller than me, wider and overly muscled with the red crusty skin of an undercooked lobster. Asag and my other brothers always did their best to make my childhood a living nightmare—in a bad way. I got used to the taunts and the pranks quickly enough. The broken bones and missing teeth took a little longer to get used to. Thankfully, we demons regenerate pretty quickly.

Asag spun both swords like he was a helicopter trying to take off, reminding me briefly of that loudmouth Earth god Thor. Asag swung his left sword at my head. I shifted my shoulders and head to the left. The blade sliced past me. Before Asag could pull the sword back, I hit the flat end of the blade with the heel of my boot, snapping it out of his hand. I dove for the fallen sword, grabbed it, and rolled to the right. Asag’s second sword missed me by seconds.

My brother was far from the best sword fighter, but he was indeed quite strong and could animate rocks and stones. Asag had smartly chosen a castle for his attack, which of course, was made up of mostly stone. My brother, however, was never known to be smart, which was another thing that made this fight different.

Father never seemed to mind my brothers tormenting and beating me, but I never got the impression that he would actually let them kill me.

Until now.

With a warcry that would have done a castrated banshee proud, Asag leapt up into the air and lifted his remaining sword above his crusty red head. I rolled left, allowing his blade to plunge deep into the spot where I was moments ago. While my brother focused on pulling his sword from the hard stone, I sprang to my feet and took a swipe at his head. He blocked the blow with his free arm.

The result… nice sparks but no blood. Asag didn’t need armor because his body was harder than stone. I would have to cut him in one of his only soft spots. His neck or his nuts.

Crap. The floor started shaking beneath me. Before I could take another swing at Asag, the floor lifted me up and sped me toward the high ceiling above. I had more than enough time to jump off before it smashed me against the ceiling, but it gave Asag the opportunity to retrieve his sword, which was what he wanted.

As I fell toward the floor, my peripheral vision noted the wall vibrating to my far left. The wall transformed into a giant fist of stone and hit me in my side, sending me flying into the great hall’s sole hearth. The hearth was lit, of course, but that didn’t worry me. Fire is no more harmful to demons than water is to humans. This little stunt was meant to hurt my pride. And embarrassing it was… almost as embarrassing as when I mistook the Elf King for his sleeping sister. In my defense, between all the fluffy stuffed animals on his bed and the snoring, it was an honest mistake.

I felt something grab my ankle and drag me out of the hearth. Asag easily lifted me into the air and swung me over his shoulder, barely giving me enough time to cross my forearms over my face before he slammed me into the floor.

Not the face!

My plea, of course, excited my brother even more. He released my ankle and grabbed my calves and flipped me over. An evil smile plastered on his blistered red lips, Asag straddled my hips and started pounding me with both fists. Exactly what I wanted.

Ignoring the blood spilling down my face and jolts of pain, I mentally counted to three then caught Asag’s left fist before it connected again and twisted hard until we both heard a snap. Asag’s silver pupils dilated for a brief moment.

I rolled from underneath him. Seconds later, I was back on my feet and in my fighter’s stance. Asag was back on his feet too, rubbing his wrist. I smiled at my brother, then swept my foot straight up and into his nuts. Asag doubled over. Eager to press my advantage and itching for a little payback, I grabbed my big brother by his two stubby horns and forced his head into my oncoming knee strike. Asag stumbled backward, then glared at me. He shook his wrist twice and wiggled his fingers. His sword flew back into his hand.

Since when can Asag do that?

My brother was turning out to be quite the showman… or good at distraction. I ducked as low as I could, knowing it was too late, as Asag’s second sword cut through the back of my shoulder on its way to Asag’s free hand.

None of this was right. Asag shouldn’t be this powerful or this smart. Because he isn’t… Hell must be boosting his powers. Meaning that I should be able to use it to boost my powers as well. All I had to do was find the conduit Asag was using.

Iron Wind of Death!

A stream of heavy rocks flew at me from all directions. I shielded myself as best I could, but it was useless. The rocks kept crashing into me, causing me to stumble as they encased me inside a tomb of stone.

You don’t mind if I monologue now, do you, Lucy?

I was only half-listening to Asag. I needed to concentrate. His stone had encased and effectively immobilized me. If I could figure out Asag’s power conduit, I could summon forth my dormant demon powers. Not being able to breathe, though, made it difficult to solve puzzles, but I was determined to use my great mind and superior strength. I summoned a vision of me posing and flexing in the bathroom mirror. Then flexed with all my might.

I could hear cracking—only faint at first, but the sound grew louder along with the voice of Asag droning on about how he wished I had been more of a challenge. I forced all the energy that I could muster into my limbs and stretched my arms and legs out at once. My stone prison shattered.

The effort left me on my knees.

Impressive, Lucy. Asag was smiling. Who’s your friend with the dishrag on his head?

I looked up.

The Egyptian god Ra.

2

Iopened my eyes and immediately sensed someone watching me.

The cloud of red particles surrounding my body quickly dissipated as I willed myself from horizontal to vertical to face the intruder. Asag, along with his fairytale castle, was gone. I was back in my bedroom, hovering over my bed with Ra seated on the wing chair to my right, watching me intently.

Bad dream?

Demons don’t dream—or sleep. I lowered myself to the floor and frowned at the Egyptian god. How long had he been watching me regenerate?

To my surprise, Ra didn’t have his usual bird head. He had ditched his dated mobster pinstripe suit for a silk grey tailored one. His chiseled face was several shades darker than mine, and his jet black hair was slicked back with herbal scented mousse. Apparently, he could change his appearance at will, making me wonder if the other Earth gods could do likewise.

Whom were you fighting?

Wasn’t fighting anyone. I smiled at Ra. Yet.

Ah… so that’s why you were floating above your bed with demonic energy crackling around you.

It happens.

Even when that demonic energy is not your own?

True, Ra’s sudden appearance in the castle might have saved me from getting extinguished, but I was growing bored with this game. Forgive me, oh mighty Ra. I always thought we demons all looked alike to you Earth gods.

Ra served up an indulgent smile, demurring to take the bait. He crossed his arms and pointed at my left shoulder. It was where Asag’s sword had taken off a nice slice of my shoulder, but it was healing pretty quickly. In a few minutes, even the scar would be gone. Time to put some clothes on. Being naked in my bedroom with a bird god has never been one of my sick fantasies, and I have plenty of them.

Your fellow demons will attack again. Ra’s voice had a nice bass to it, but his accent struck me as British and a bit nasally. "You’re their strongest link to this world.

I know someone who can help you against these psychic attacks.

In exchange for what?

The Egyptian god clapped his thin hands in delight. So direct. And here I thought demons were the masters of intrigue.

Some of us are, but none of us are foolish enough to believe in a philanthropic god.

Fair point. The truth is… you’re no good to us dead.

I keep telling you—all of you—I’m not your stupid Chosen One.

You’ll do.

Like dogs with a bone these Earth gods. I opened my dresser draw to retrieve some boxer briefs. Trevor Hunt had his pretty tailor send me a large box filled with them weeks ago. The virgin says it’s a good idea to wear them, so my pants don’t smell like balls. His words. The young man is incredibly gauche but probably right since deodorant and perfumes seem to be the mainstay these days.

I slid into a pair of turquoise blue shorts, and I had to admit—I looked incredibly sexy. If I were that narcissistic Jason Wildfire, I’d start flexing my massive biceps. Sadly, my full-length mirror was by the bird god… I turned around to face Ra, who now had his legs crossed.

Again I ask… what’s in it for you?

Oh, nothing much. Ra’s smile turned predatory, reminding me of Trevor Hunt. Perhaps, a small favor or two.

Favor? I frowned.

There’s a certain nanotechnology that’s about to come online. Ra stood up all dramatic-like in his silky grey suit. We want you to destroy it.

I had little doubt that any one of the Judges could destroy the technology easier than I could. So what held them back, and how could I use it against them in the future? Definitely something to ponder, but for now… I would play along.

From what I understand about technology and humans… you’re only delaying the inevitable.

We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

A bit cliché, I said, enjoying Ra’s fading smile. And here I thought old gods were the masters of oratory verbiage.

Do you wish my help or not?

"I am Lucifer Demon 112.

I need help from no one—especially from you and your band of Judges. But I do consider destroying this nanotechnology for a psychic defense a fair trade.

Marvelous. The Egyptian god’s thin smile returned. I’ll take you to my friend as soon as you put some clothes on.

We don’t want her mistaking you for a boy toy.

3

Traveling through the Judges’ magic door was a bit like experiencing vertigo and eating shredded wheat muffins at the same time.

Totally anti-climatic.

Ra extended a gracious hand for me to go first, but I still didn’t trust him, so I waited. He smiled and breezed out of the door. I followed. A handsome woman and a shirtless beefy man, looking like one of those male strippers, stared at us as we entered the room. The man raised his gun.

Ra wasn’t disturbed in the least. "Weapons won’t be necessary, Mistress of Evil.

Thor, by the way, sends his love… or grunts it.

The woman almost smiled. Her hazel eyes bordered on gold and were exquisite though tinged with menace. You… you’re the one who tried to blackmail me.

Gods don’t blackmail, my dear lady. Ra’s dark eyes practically sparkled with mischief. My unsigned letter was… more of an introduction—from one of your many admirers.

Bullshit.

The woman darted an evil glance at the male stripper.

Uh… not the admirers part…

Ra waved the back of his hand at the stripper. Your manservant may leave us now, my dear.

Hey, that’s racist.

I meant no disrespect. Ra offered a curt bow of his head. And upon my word as Egypt’s illustrious and all powerful sun god, the mighty Ra promises that he means no ill-will toward your mistress.

She’s not my mistress.

And he’s not illustrious, I said, smiling at Ra. But he does look great in a skirt.

The woman smiled at me. Her male stripper slash bodyguard shifted his gun toward me.

You may leave, Dwayne. I’ll be fine.

I don’t trust them.

You shouldn’t. I snatched the weapon from her bodyguard’s hand and offered it to the woman, handle first.

She took it gingerly between her fingers and passed it back to her manservant.

I’ll be right outside if you need me, Ephemera. He gave me a quick glare then scowled at Ra, and left the room.

Ephemera… what an interesting and unusual name.

State your business. Ephemera’s gold-green eyes were suddenly cold.

We need your help. Ra easily towered over the woman.

She smiled. Why would I help someone who tries to blackmail me and then has the audacity to barge into my humble abode?

I took a good look at our surroundings. I would hardly call the place humble. Two tacky jade green and most likely overpriced Ming vases were stationed by the room’s south double doors, along with six ornate chairs that looked puffy and uncomfortable enough to be in a museum.

It was a mistake coming here. How could this human possibly assist me against Asag or any other demon?

You use Thor as your reference. Ephemera seated herself on a tall leather chair and crossed her shapely legs. I seriously doubt that Thor has any friends, but even if you are—there’s nothing on heaven and Earth that can make help you.

Ra gestured to a nearby table. Gold, silver, and other gaudy treasures suddenly materialized on top of it.

The flash of greed in Ephemera’s exquisite eyes was brief, but to her credit—she masked it pretty quickly.

Tempting… but eternal youth would suit me better.

Alas, dear lady. That is beyond my abilities.

Then stop wasting my time. Ephemera rose with a flurry and headed toward the double doors, but Ra intercepted her.

Please, listen to my counter offer.

Ephemera’s eyes hardened.

What if I teach you how to project the illusion of eternal beauty?

Ra’s big old bird head suddenly replaced his human one. Ephemera took an involuntary stop backward.

So what do you want from me? I have no real power, save my intuition and psychic daggers.

You’re far too modest, Mistress of Evil.

A white hand shot to her temple as Ephemera’s eyes closed in obvious pain. Ra was probably attacking her psychically. So much for promises and not doing harm.

Ephemera opened her eyes. She didn’t look happy. Nice try.

I want you to teach Lucy how to deflect psychic attacks like you just did now.

Who is Lucy?

Ra pointed a bony finger at me.

Ephemera looked at me and almost smiled. The gold-green eyes returned to Ra. I can’t teach anybody. I have no idea how I do what I do—it’s purely instinctive.

Ra waved her protest away. I have faith in you—and a second gift for you.

Is it that lamé green moo moo with the matching emerald broach that I’ve had my eye on?

Absolutely not.

Then I’m not interested.

It’s a weapon. Ra’s bird head morphed back into human form. A mental sunburst of sorts that will leave your enemies on their knees.

Ephemera smiled, evil on her lips as she looked past Ra and directly at me like I was tonight’s dessert menu.

Does it work on potential lovers too?

4

Y ou’re not quite human, are you?

It wasn’t a question.

The woman seated across the table from me was beauty incarnate. In the morning light, her hazel eyes bordered on blue. Flawless cheekbones, tempting boobies, and flakes of kale speckling her pearly white teeth. At least, this is what she used to look like fifteen or so years ago. Minus the kale.

Ephemera was also a fast learner. She was with that dreary Egyptian god for barely twenty minutes before she returned all evil and beautiful, which I had to admit was a real turn on.

Apparently, she even had enough time for a kale salad snack. I wondered what he had taught her besides how to project this youthful appearance, but I could wait. Right now it was best if I learned more about my new mentor. I almost laughed. A demon with a mentor. How absurd.

I can’t read you.

I get that a lot. I leaned in closer. Most likely since you’re right—I’m not quite human.

The hazel eyes continued appraising me as a strong finger tapped the small table between us.

So what are you, Ephemera—a psychic or a witch?

A dark smile appeared on the Mistress of Evil’s lips. No such thing as magic.

The tapping finger stopped.

I can’t read minds, but I can read emotions quite well.

What about those psychic daggers you mentioned?

You’ll find out very soon.