Masquerade, Again
Six Years Later — The Infernal Palace of Hell
The ballroom in Hell is gilded in blood-gold and obsidian crystal, every surface gleaming with infernal light and quiet, ancient menace. Fire dances in chandeliers of bone and flame. The music is not mortal, no strings or woodwinds, but the sound of souls humming through cursed glass. Each note sliding down the spine like whispered temptation.
I stand at the top of the grand staircase, draped in a gown the color of spilled wine, the fabric cascading down my body like it has been conjured from smoke and seduction. My black hair is braided with tiny rubies, my skin glowing faintly under the palace’s warm and wicked lighting. My horns are polished and curved like elegant daggers around the silver circlet resting on my brow.
To the untrained eye, I look exactly like I am supposed to: Katerina Morozova, daughter of the Demon Courts, old friend of Lucifer Morningstar himself. Royal-born. Lethal. Untouchable. To the trained eye, I am something else entirely. I’m now the leader of one of the biggest mafia families in the mortal realm. Our headquarters alone is larger than any other families. We built it to be self-sufficient, and of course Lucifer helped when needed. With a total of one thousand, three hundred and fifty acres, we built everything; from the main house to livestock and crop fields. Other things have been added for members like community buildings and cabins. We wanted a family like no one had ever seen before. Success came just one month before this event.
Six years have passed since that night in New Orleans. Six years since the stranger with the glacier eyes and the devil’s hands had disappeared from the hotel bed and left something behind in me that changed the entire course of my existence. My daughter, Alina, slept soundly back at the estate under Soteria’s watchful eye. The legacy I built for her, an empire of shadows and supernatural bloodlines, has flourished. Tonight, everything changes. I will get my revenge for our parents, and my precious daughter will never know the pain of her father turning his back on her.
Thinking of her now, I decide to reach out to Soteria. Hey Sota, how is she doing?
She’s great as always. Currently trying to build a fort in the living room. She keeps getting distracted by the movie she’s watching. Though she did mention earlier, if I happened to speak to you to let you know two things; one, that she loves you bunches and bunches, and two, to tell her Genie she misses him and to visit soon. I grin in response. She had to be watching Aladdin.
Tell her I’ll be home soon, and that I love her dearly. We should be back in a few hours. I want to wrap this up as soon as possible. Her chuckle fills my head.
Good luck, Rina. I smile again just as her presence leaves my head.
“What are you smiling about?” Lucifer asks me, a complacent smile on his face.
“Alina says she misses her Genie and to come visit her soon.” His smile brightens instantly and a low laugh rumbles out of him.
“I will visit soon. Probably sooner than both of you think. After this ball, I was thinking about staying with you until this whole ordeal is over. I don’t have to help, but I’d like to stand with you for your revenge.” I turn my gaze towards him, my smile widening a little.
“Thank you, Lucifer. That means more than you’ll ever know. We just have to win on the battlefield in front of us.” Lucifer casts a knowing smile, then nods and turns his gaze to the crowd.
Lucifer’s Infernal Masquerade is more than just a party. It is a meeting ground. A battlefield in silks and masks. A test of charm and veiled threats, political games and quiet assassinations between drinks. It’s also the biggest party Lucifer throws out of the year. This year is announced as even more special. His beloved second hand’s family have returned to him. Every noble and crime lord in Hell’s dominion comes dressed to kill or to be remembered, and he will come too. No one resists Lucifer’s summons.
I can feel him when he arrives. Even though I’m not sure how. I just can. The pull is older now, colder. Less of a burn and more of a steady hum beneath my skin, vibrating in tune with my heartbeat. I wear my mask, silver lace edged in crimson, and stand beside Lucifer as he greets his guests like the grand puppet master he is.
Then I see him. Soren, Lucifer called him. The same man from that Mardi Gras night, but slightly older looking. Sharper. No mask this time. Just a tailored black suit with fine hellsteel trim and a black onyx tie pin that probably doubles as a weapon. His hair is shorter than last I saw him, his jaw set tighter, and those eyes—gods, those eyes—still hold a storm. He hasn’t seen me yet. Lucifer, lounging against his obsidian throne like a king born of fire and apathy, gives a low chuckle beside me.
“He’s punctual,” the Devil murmurs, swirling his infernal whiskey.
“And unknowing,” I say, my voice smooth and steel-laced. “Just how I need him.”
Lucifer turns to me, his grin sharp. “Remember the part where you don’t kill him tonight, Rina.”
“I remember,” I say. “Barely.”
“Barely isn’t going to cut it my lovely Rina. I know how much you want this, remember to be patient. Things will fall into place soon enough.” I feel his power wrap around me in a soothing gesture.
“Alright. I’ll play nice.”
“Thank you.” He gives me a genuine grin then.
Lucifer waves a hand, summoning Soren forward. The man crosses the ballroom like a thundercloud, calm and dangerous, each step deliberate. When he finally stands in front of us, Lucifer stands and opens his arms with theatrical delight.
“Soren Carmichael,” Lucifer exclaims. “It’s been too long. Welcome back to the Court.”
“Lucifer,” Soren says with a respectful dip of his head, though his voice holds that same rasped disinterest I briefly remember. “Always a pleasure.”
Lucifer turns to me then, with mock innocence. “Do you remember Katerina Morozova? She and her family have long been allies of mine. Old, old friends. I believe you both met the last time you were here.” Soren’s gaze cuts to mine.
For one heart-stopping second, I think he’ll remember. Disappointment flares when I see nothing in his eyes. Disappointment that is quickly replaced with anger. Recognition doesn’t flicker. His mouth doesn’t twitch. His pupils don’t flare. He sees me, sure. Notices the dress. The horns. The cleavage, but not me.
Of course. The mark is hidden. The memory is old and insignificant. My scent is different. I can’t expect him to recognize me right away. I have to be patient, as Lucifer said. Bide my time until later. The spell I used the morning after I found out I was pregnant had been woven from ancient demoncraft and sealed by blood. It would keep my scent and mark hidden until I wanted them revealed. It was the only way I could protect myself and my child that hadn’t been brought into the world yet. I couldn’t have him remembering who I was until the time was right. The plan and my family’s safety depended on it.
“Rina,” I say smoothly, offering my hand. “My friends call me Rina.”
Soren’s lips curve into a polite, professional smile. He takes my hand. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t tremble. Doesn’t shatter like I half-expect. He has no idea. An unpleasant feeling forms in my chest. Whether it’s from his lack of expression or his presence in general, I can’t tell.
“Well then,” he says. “Pleasure to meet you… again.”
Lucifer’s eyes sparkle. “If you need anything tonight, Soren, Rina is your girl. She knows the palace inside and out. Trust her.”
Soren nods, almost hesitantly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Come,” I say with a smile, slipping my hand around his arm before he can react. “Let me show you the bar. You’ve survived Hell’s politics, I assume you can handle our liquor.”
The bar is tucked away in a corner alcove, private but still within sight of the ballroom’s chaos. The bartenders are demons with forked tongues and charm to match, and the drinks have names like Sorrow on Ice and Regret in Bloom. I order us both something strong. When the bartender hands me our drinks, I pass him his before I sip on mine.
He leans against the counter beside me, shoulder brushing mine as he studies the room. “It’s more different here than I imagined,” he says.
“Different how?” I ask, sipping the dark liquid that burns like ancient memories.
He glances at me. “Less screaming and fighting. More silk and dancing.”
I laugh, soft and low. “The screaming and fighting comes later. Although that’s still not too bad once you get used to it.”
He looks at me then, really looks, and something flickers in his expression. The faintest crack. A shiver down the bond he didn’t know existed. I feel it in my blood like a key sliding into a lock. I want to fall into it, but then Alina’s face flashes to mind and I shut down. My eyes haze over, my body tenses, and my heart starts to race. Then as suddenly as it started, I relax and look out toward the crowd.
“I thought you’ve been here before, was it not during a party?” I ask, taking another sip of my drink.
“No, my father brought me here when I was younger. He called it a training mission. Really it was a horrifying camping trip in Tartarus. We sat on the banks and fought some of the lesser demons there. I spent weeks there with him. Not our best memory.” He seems to shake himself and sips his drink.
I almost feel bad for him as I remember my ‘camping’ excursions with Lucifer the last few years. Tartarus is probably my least favorite place. Filled with the worst of the worst, even the lesser demons are pretty scary down there. I was lucky enough to have my siblings and Soteria with me. All of us together were a pretty formidable force. It was only him and his dad there. A sliver of respect seeps under my skin.
“Tartarus is no joke, and I had six other people with me. I can’t imagine taking the trip with only two people.” I smile and turn to look out towards the crowd. I see Rurik across the room, he meets my eyes and gives a subtle nod. Show time.
My eyes glaze over slightly as if I’ve just received a message. I turn to him quickly. “Lucifer just spoke to me,” I lie, tapping the side of my head. “Telepathically. He wishes to speak with you in his office.”
Soren frowns. “Now?”
“Yes. He said it was urgent. Something about the Errelon treaty. He asked me to escort you there.”
I don’t wait for his agreement. I simply begin to walk. Soren follows. The corridors of the palace twist like living things, the walls pulsing with heat and memory. I walk them easily. I’ve grown up among fire and sin. I wasn’t just leading Soren to Lucifer’s office. I was leading him toward the trap I’ve been laying for six years. The one I’ve spent every waking moment perfecting. My fingers brush the back of my left hand where the mark had once burned. Hidden now. Quiet, but soon… Soon, he’d remember. Soon, he’d know.
That I am the woman from the alley. That he has a daughter. That his fate is bound to mine, by blood, by power, by something older than destiny. Then he would pay for having my parents killed. Not yet though. Not until I am ready, and I am almost ready. I just need to finish setting the stage.