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  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Thank You for Reading!

  Books by LJ Baker

  Acknowledgments

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sloth

  Seven Deadly Sins

  Book 4

  LJ Baker

  © 2018 LJ Baker

  All right reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  http://www.lj-baker.com/

  Cover by Pink Ink Designs

  "Life is a challenge" he once told me,

  "and only those who rise to the challenge

  truly know what it means to live."

  — Darren Shan

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was dark, maybe too dark for what Harley guessed was close to dawn, but that was fine by her. It was the quiet time where she had a few minutes of peace in both her mind, and body. Soon Michael would return, or he would send in one of his minions to work her over again. Michael preferred to let his minions do the torturing. It would be a total shame to get Harley's blood on his pretty shoes. Clearly, they had no idea what a demon could withstand.

  And Harley was no ordinary demon.

  It hadn't been an easy few days, or had it been longer? She'd lost track of the time. Only the ticking of the clock kept her grounded. Tick, tick, tick. She set her focus on that sound. Through blood dripping in her eyes, pain that dragged unwanted screams from her traitor mouth, and the smell of her own burning flesh, the sound of that damned clock was the only thing that kept her going.

  Lucifer would find her, or he wouldn't. One way or another, she would get the hell out of that place. Even if it was only by death. She'd been through worse in her human life. Or it had felt worse, because she wasn't as strong back then. Michael and his band of asshat demons couldn't break her.

  Harley was a survivor.

  "Taking a nap?" The voice cut through her peaceful moment and grated on her last nerve. If she had even just her hands free, she'd show that bastard what a permanent nap felt like.

  "Yeah, why don't you undo these cuffs so I can stretch a bit?" Harley dug her nails into the cracked leather of the chair that she was bound to and waited for Michael to come closer.

  "Oh little demon, tsk tsk tsk. You must take me for someone with the intelligence of Lucifer." Michael circled her chair, running his hand through her matted hair, catching his fingers in the knots, and making a sound of disgust.

  If he'd been in front of her, she'd have spit on him. Not that it would have helped, but it was about as much as she could manage at that moment, and it would have pissed him off. So that was something.

  "You can't stand the fact that he's better than you, can you?" she asked, spitting blood on the concrete floor by her feet.

  "Better than me?" Michael laughed.

  "You're daddy's little suck-up. Never thinking for yourself, never living your own life, and never stacking up to your brother, no matter how hard you try." Harley struggled in the chair, moving herself just enough to stop him from groping her hair.

  "My father has nothing to do with what's going on right now. You should stop listening to Lucifer. He lies. This is the Michael show now, demon."

  Harley laughed. "Lucifer doesn't need to lie to make himself feel important. He also doesn't need to stage break-ins, and muck around trying to steal things that don't belong to him."

  "I won't be playing this little game with you. Tell me what I need to know and I can end your pathetic existence."

  "What is it again that you want?"

  "You know what I want." Michael gritted his teeth, but kept his cool.

  A shimmer of light bounced off the shiny metal of the knife Michael held in one hand as the first hints of sunlight peered over the top of the high windows. Harley recognized the decorative blade right away. She had one very similar, forged by the same smith. It would kill her easily, though slowly, and painfully. One slit to an artery, quick and deadly, would be all it took to start the process. She would bleed out over the course of a day, writhing in agony the whole time. Nonlethal cuts would hurt just as bad, but without the whole end of existence thing.

  There would be no returning to Hell. No purgatory. She would cease to exist for good. No take backs, no passing go, no second chances. Harley swallowed hard, a flutter of nerves flowed over her in a quick wave, but she pushed them back. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. If this was to be her last day, then so be it. It wouldn't end with Michael getting what he wanted.

  Before Harley could steal herself against the inevitable, Michael whipped the blade across her thigh, cutting deep into the muscle, causing her to scream out from the misery of it. The blade could not only take her life, but any nonlethal cut was the kind of torturous pain that one couldn't even begin to imagine.

  "How do I get into the safe?"

  "What safe?" Harley asked through gritted teeth.

  Before Harley could take another breath, Michael brought the blade down on her shoulder, tearing into the soft flesh with searing hot pain. She held back the scream that time, refusing to give him the satisfaction on sheer will alone. Lucifer would have been proud of her. How much more she could put up with was another story.

  "Lucifer has something I want and I always get what I want."

  "Funny," Harley croaked out. "So does Lucifer."

  "Not this time." Michael's grip on the knife tightened. Harley could see his knuckles turn white in the growing daylight.

  "What do you need me for?"

  This had been the first time since she'd been there that Michael had gotten his hands dirty. He'd left the messy work up to his minions, who'd failed miserably. He must have been getting desperate to risk getting blood splatters on his perfectly pressed, white shirt. It also meant that whether or not she told him what he wanted to know, her time was running out.

  "You've been Lucifer's little pet for a long time now. I'm sure if anyone knows how to access the contents of that safe, it's you. So you can talk now, maybe save yourself a little extra pain, or I can kill you, and eventually find out what I need to know anyway. Lucifer may have you, but I have beings much more powerful than little girl demons." Michael grabbed a handful of Harley's hair to pull her head back as far as her neck would allow. With one quick slice, he cut through her hair, letting the tangled mess fall to the floor.

  "Dude, do you know how long that took to grow?" Harley jumped in her chair, lifting the legs off the floor, and brought it down onto Michael's foot. One quick groan, and he flicked his wrist, sending her, and the chair she was still attached to, flying across the room.

  "Next time it will be your throat." Michael walked closer and squatted down to look Harley in the eyes. "Now, how do I get into that safe?"

  That was it. She saw it in his eyes. He was done playing games with her. It didn't matter that she had no clue how to open Lucifer's safe. Hell, until recently, she hadn't even known what was in it, or that a Hell Tablet even existed. To be honest th
ough, even if she had known, she wouldn't have told Michael. Not even to save her life.

  "First, you cut off your own dick, then you shove it up your ass, then—"

  Before she could finish, Michael stood, swung his leg back, and kicked her full on in the face, sending her head back, and filling her vision with stars. It hurt like a motherfucker, but Harley could take it all day. It was that gleaming metal in his hand that she knew would be the end of her.

  There would be a few moments reprieve though, because one of the minions, the skinny one with tight, curly hair, interrupted with a note. Michael read it, crumbled it into his hand, and stormed away. Whatever it was, he wasn't happy. It was enough to make Harley smile. It was the little joys in life that mattered.

  ***

  Coming home to a dark, empty apartment, was exactly what Lucifer was looking forward to since he'd left home. Unfortunately, he would have just long enough to undo his tie before his serenity was ruined.

  "How did it go?" Az switched on the lamp, flooding the room with light and his irritating voice.

  "As expected."

  "So, awful?" Az slid off the chair and went to pour a couple bourbons. Luc would need the whole bottle, maybe a case, after dealing with his father for the past three days, but even that wouldn't have been enough.

  After taking the drink from his brother, Luc downed its contents and let out a long, slow breath. "Any problems while I was gone?"

  Az paused, waiting at least a full thirty seconds before answering. "Nothing Harley couldn't have handled better than me."

  Harley.

  She was the reason Luc had gone to see his father after all this time. If he could have gone the rest of eternity without seeing the old man again, it would have been fine with him. Problem was, Harley was missing and Luc would do anything to have her back.

  "Dear old dad agreed to help." Luc scrubbed his hands over his face for a long moment. "For a price, of course."

  "With Harley?" Az put his hand on Luc's arm and searched his face. "Is he going to kick Michael's ass like he should have from the start?"

  "No." Luc pulled free of Az and went to pour another drink. "He agreed to help with Harley, but he refuses to get involved with Michael."

  "Aren't those two issues the same thing?"

  After pouring a double, downing the entire thing in one gulp, and pouring another, Luc turned to face Az. "Yes, but only the returning Harley safely part was promised, and to be honest, it was enough. I wasn't going to press him after I got what I came for."

  "What did you have to give in return?"

  It wouldn't have mattered what price their father asked, Luc would have paid it. He knew it would be steep and it was.

  "It doesn't matter right now. For the time being, let's focus on what's important."

  Az walked over to Luc and put his arm around his shoulder. "I'm sorry, brother. I know that wasn't easy for you."

  Not easy was an understatement. It was worse than he'd expected and Luc had taken millennia to think about how his next meeting with his father would go.

  "So how do we get her back?"

  Luc shrugged Az off and walked back to the window to take in the city he'd called home for some time now. This was the place he felt most like himself. It was where he thought he'd spend the next part of his life. Where he would find love, settle down, maybe raise some children. Luc sighed, letting his head drop.

  "The most he would give me was that she would be returned."

  "That's it? You're just supposed to sit here and wait? Trust that he will keep his word?" Az kicked the couch, something that would normally have irritated Luc, but this time he couldn't blame his brother. The whole thing sucked.

  Their father agreed to have Harley returned, but he didn't say when, or in what shape she would be in when she was brought back. Only that she would be alive. That was a lot for his father. Normally, he didn't get involved with these sort of things. He certainly didn't worry about protecting a life.

  Luc's phone buzzed in his pocket and he reached in to check it. He was almost afraid to look, not knowing if it could be about Harley, or even more bad news. He wasn't sure he could deal with more shit piled on top of the rest. Despite his reputation, Luc normally remained calm and handled things professionally. The way he was feeling, he knew he was likely to behave badly if even one more person pissed him off.

  After a deep breath, he opened the message and read.

  "Who is it? Is it about Harley?"

  "It's Uriel." Luc and Az looked at each other with the same dumbfounded look. Luc hadn't heard from his sister since he'd left Heaven. When they were young, they'd been close, but once he was the family outcast, she cut him off the same as most of his other siblings had. It couldn't be a coincidence that she was contacting him now.

  "What does it say?" Az bounced in place, and Luc thought for a second he might grab the phone out of Luc's hand, and read the message himself.

  "She's on her way here."

  It had been too long since Luc had seen his sister. Was she someone he could trust? Or would she be on Michael's side? There was no way to know what kind of shit show could be raining down on him any second. His father had gave him his word that Harley would be returned, so Luc hoped that the old bastard at least knew who the major players were in whatever this was that was going on. He might not have agreed to help with Michael, but Luc wanted to think he would have at least given him a heads up if his favorite sister was also involved.

  God only knew though.

  "Lucifer, Azrael." Uriel appeared in the doorway with a flash of light and a dramatic cloud of fog that rose up around her, creating an eerie glow that highlighted a long white gown.

  Such a drama queen.

  "Uriel," Luc said, offering nothing else until he got a better feel for what she was up to, and where her loyalties lay.

  "That's the best you have for your sister that you haven't seen in a few thousand years?" She waved off the fog and took a few steps closer. Her coal black hair fell around her shoulders and she tossed it behind her.

  It didn't take a close examination to see that Uriel and Lucifer looked so much alike that they could have been twins. It was worse when they were little. Uriel would keep her hair short and cut identical to Lucifer's. When she got bored, which was often, she would impersonate him, causing trouble, and getting him blamed.

  Fun times.

  "The fact that I haven't heard a word from you in that amount of time, sister, should surely explain my pause. Especially when you factor in that my own brother is plotting against me." Luc stood his ground, still holding the bourbon in his hand, and very much wanting to gulp it down, then pour about six more.

  "I have no comment on Michael." Uriel made her way over to the sofa and settled herself into it like she owned the place.

  "Why is that?" Az asked. "Because you're on his side? Or maybe even in on it with him?"

  Uriel flicked her wrist and closed off Az's airway, leaving him choking and clutching at his throat. "How do you keep him around, Lucifer? He has always been so annoying."

  "Enough, Uriel. Leave Az alone." Luc balled his fists at his sides and waited for her to release Az. She stared at him for a few long moments, empty expression on her face, then shrugged and released her hold on him.

  "Bitch." Az crumpled into a heap on the floor and gasped. "I never liked you."

  Uriel giggled and crossed one leg over the other. "Now Lucifer, why don't you send the twit away so we can chat?"

  Luc thought about telling her to screw off. He wasn't sure which side Uriel was on and he didn't want to find out it wasn't his without backup. Uriel might look like a pampered little princess, but she was far from it. She was a force to be reckoned with. If necessary, Luc knew he could have the upper hand, but he preferred it didn't come down to that. So he did the only thing he could to keep things from escalating.

  "Az, why don't you go make sure everything downstairs is locked up tight? We wouldn't want to find that any straggl
ers made their way out after closing and forgot to lock up."

  "I locked those doors myself and no one was left behind. Besides, you know Jason is still—"

  "Az, give Uriel and I a few moments, please?"

  Clearly, Az needed it exactly spelled out for him.

  Az narrowed his eyes at Uriel, huffed, and stomped out of the room.

  "Really Lucifer, I don't know how you put up with him."

  Luc downed the drink in his hand and went to pour himself and Uriel a fresh bourbon. He set the glass on the coffee table in front of her and took the seat furthest away.

  "Did you come here to discuss our little brother, Uriel?"

  She leaned forward, snatched the glass off the table, and took a small sip. "That would have been a wasted trip, brother. I couldn't care less about Azrael."

  "You've made that quite clear. Why did you come then, sister? Just in the mood to slum it on Earth?"

  "You know how I feel about this place." She wrinkled up her nose and took another sip. "I came because I was asked to."

  The real question was, by whom. Luc almost didn't want to ask it, afraid that the sister he used to admire so much was plotting against him. It shouldn't shock him at this point that any of his siblings would be out to hurt him, but it still stung. They'd once been close, living and playing together, one big happy family.

  That was then.

  "Shall I start making guesses as to who made such a request?"

  Uriel placed her glass down on the table and folded her hands in her lap. "You wound me, Lucifer. Did I imagine the closeness we once shared?"

  "Not on my end, sister, but you must understand that after the way I've been treated by the majority of our family, including you, I tend to have some trust issues where all of you are concerned."

  "I can understand that, I suppose." Uriel sighed and lifted her head to look at Luc. "I have come on the request of our father. He asked for my assistance in returning your little demon friend."