Fic info.
Holiday
Part Four
This is just what I needed. A long, hot soak in a scented bath. It's Heaven.

Well...as close to it as I'm ever going to get, anyway. Oh, well. That's the price of being Queen of Hell.

I sent all my attendants out of the suite. They were fussing. I hate it when they fuss. I know they're just worried about the rest of the entourage, but I can take only so much whining.

Finally, I'm all clean and done with the bath, so I step out and dry myself off. Pretty decent towels here. Not like the ones back home.....

What the hell—what a cute saying—was that? There was a sound, a clinking. Like glass against glass.

I slip into the china blue silk robe one of the Ladies in Waiting had set out for me and wander out into the living room. "Hello? Gatty?"

No answer. I grit my teeth. I hate being ignored. "Thress? Anyone?"

I hear another noise, this time from the sitting room. A slight cough. Couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but do I really need to? There's only one person who would ignore me this blatantly.

"Where have you been, you bastard?" I ask, making my voice as calm and controlled as possible. Sometimes when I see him, it's like a breath of air that my lungs violently needed.

This is not one of those times.

"We could have used your help. Half the party got trapped somewhere down in what this dimension calls hell and now Gatty, Jez, and the Duke have run off to rescue them."

I've entered the sitting room by this time and I can see the back of his head. His hair is black this week, cut close to his head. And I know when I see his face, he'll have a black goatee, too. As stereotypical of him as anything possibly could be.

I only have one rule, really, with him. When he comes into my presence, he does it looking like a human. There's a lot that can be said for scales and horns and tails, but I really don't want to put up with it from my husband.

"I thought they could use a diversion, since this holiday of yours is becoming such a bore." He sets a snifter of brandy—the clink I heard—down on a side table, not bothering to turn and face me.

"No one asked you to come." I move farther into the room and round the corner of the settee he's sitting on. Now I'm facing him and his blue eyes are gazing up at me benignly. I hate it when he's like this. "In fact, as I recall, no one wanted you to come. You force yourself on this trip, make us prepare to have you with us, then don't even show up half the time. Really, Apollyn, I thought the Prince of Darkness would be beneath these petty gambits."

He arches one perfect brow. "‘Petty gambits'? I'm afraid you must be confused, darling." He smirks in that endlessly annoying way of his. "Besides, why would I do something like that to my darling wife?"

I smirk back, knowing it gets to him. Not that he'd ever show it, though. "Because your darling wife had one of your countless other darling wives booted off the Council of Collection."

The Council of Collection is the group of ruling Demons that decides whose souls we can bargain for and how we can do it. After all, with temptation, there must be rules or anarchy ensues. Just look at the hell in this place.

His calm expression is gone, replaced with one of irritation. "Do you know how long I was forced to listen to Lilith? What were you thinking, challenging one of the Old Ones' judgement call like that? She wanted your head!"

He stands and begins pacing. Maybe he's a little more upset than I thought. Good. I'm sick of having to pander to his first wives. I'm the Reigning Queen. They need to be made to see that.

I smirk as he looks up at me. "Having problems with my competition, lover?"

I'm slammed against the wall so fast, I'm not really sure what happened. He's pressed up against me, his hands gripping my upper arms. "Jealous, sweetheart?"

I grin at him, ignoring the pain. "Why would I be? I have lovers of my own."

The change in his expression is priceless. He wants to hurt me. Probably wants to send me to the Pit—our maximum detention wing of hell. But he won't. He never does.

"Careful, Meghan."

"Or you'll what, Apollyn?" I struggle my way out of his grip and take a few steps away, so I can look at him without having to look up. "Lilith has been nothing but a first class whore to me, ever since we married. Is it so terrible that I take my revenge where I can get it?"

"You already have your revenge," he murmurs quietly. Whenever he gets quiet, I know he's very serious. I think sometimes he's worried that I'll get myself killed. And then other times, I think he's hoping I will. "You rule hell. Not her."

I roll my eyes. "Please. She's an Old One. She has more physical power in her than I'll ever be able to handle."

He shrugs and wanders back to his brandy. "In your next incarnation, don't be born a human, then."

I narrow my eyes at his back. Cold hearted son of a bitch.

"If you'll excuse me, husband, I believe I'll retire to my rooms until the rest of the entourage arrives. Please do amuse yourself."

I begin to sweep out of the room, but he snags the ties to my robe and reels me in closer to him. "Perhaps I'd like to amuse myself with you, wife."

I stare at him coldly, then press my hand across his mouth. His eyes dim with the knowledge that I'm checking him for who his mouth has come in contact with lately. All my power is in my hands.

I snatch my hand away and shove him away from me. "You think I'd let you touch me after that?" I asked, disgust heavy in my voice. "The day I take you to my bed after you've been with Ereshkegal, is the day I become human again."

That he would even suggest I be with him after he...he...with her!

He laughs softly and I storm out of the room, restraining myself from slamming the door. That wouldn't be Queenly, now would it?

Oh, but I really, really want to.

And maybe scratch his eyes out for good measure.

I reach my room and throw myself onto the bed, grateful that there aren't any Ladies in Waiting hovering about.

Because I really don't want them to see me cry.