Free Hell's Angel by Cathryn Fox

Chapter One
    Ribbons of acrid, sulfur residue curled through Lucifer’s lair and wafted before
    Brand’s face—the fiery black cinder a perfect match for his mood. With his arms
    folded behind his back, Brand faced his Master and inhaled the al too familiar smel s,
    drawing them into his lungs and savoring them like a powerful aphrodisiac. The
    pungent aroma fed the anger in his soul, a continual reminder that many decades ago
    his best friend had escaped purgatory, leaving Brand behind to rot in Hel . Literal y.
    Flames raced up the stone wal as blistering heat played over his scarred and
    mutilated flesh, but Brand had learned long ago to distance himself from the
    discomfort and concentrate only on the raw anger whipping through his veins. It was
    that anger that kept him going, and gave him purpose as he awaited Gage’s return.
    Sure he and Gage had been best friends, relying solely on one another to make it
    through each gruel ing day in Hel , and sure Brand had thought Gage would come
    back for him, but the passing of time, decades to be precise, had fleeced him of his
    last vestige of hope. Gage had been gone for nearly thirty years, but it might as wel
    have been a mil ennium since one day in Hel felt like an eternity.
    Brand hadn’t wanted to believe that Gage and his newly found soul mate, Jadyn,
    had purposely left him behind, but years of torture and abuse at the hands of Lucifer
    had a way of changing one’s perspective. Not to mention the sinister methods his
    Master had of dril ing the venomous fact home, again and again.
    Yeah, Hel real y had a way of changing a guy, Brand mused.
    Lucifer’s cold amber eyes met his unflinchingly. Without softening his words to
    lessen the impact, he announced sharply, “Gage and Jadyn have a daughter. Her
    name is Kaylea.”
    Brand fisted both hands as rage ate at his insides like a thousand hungry rats.
    Gage and Jadyn had a child. The image of big blue eyes, round ruby cheeks and
    bubbling laughter erupted in his brain, eliciting a disconcerting mixture of sadness,
    joy, pain and elation.
    Lucifer’s voice pul ed him back, anchoring him in this reality—a cold, harsh reality
    without love, companionship or…loyalty. “Like her name says, she’s a pure soul. Born
    of goodness and touched by…” Lucifer paused, gave a slight shiver and glanced
    upward before saying, “Him.” He then proceeded to tap sharpened black claws on his
    stone throne as he gave Brand a moment to digest and assimilate the information.
    His long, talonlike nails hammered in synch with Brand’s accelerated heart beat. After
    a short respite, Lucifer added, “I want you to mark her for me.”
    Incredulous, Brand’s head came up with a start, shocked at his Master’s request.
    “If she’s so pure, how am I supposed to mark her for Hel ? She has to commit a crime,
    and since one born of purity rarely commits—”
    Lucifer cut him off and swiped his hand though the heavy air, carrot flames
    dancing on his fingertips. He scowled. “Have you learned nothing from your time here,
    Brand,” he boomed out. After a long-suffering sigh, Lucifer countered, “Then perhaps
    you’re not the man for the job.” He let his glance race over the four warriors flanking
    his side, as though assessing their abilities for this very important mission.
    “ I am the man for the job.” The eerie, calm in Brand’s voice brought Lucifer’s
    attention back around to him and left little doubt that he was the man for the job,
    capable of fulfil ing any task Lucifer cared to saddle him with. Brand narrowed his
    eyes to mere slits, his nostrils flared. “Tel me what you want me to do.”
    Brand didn’t miss the slight, victorious grin on Lucifer’s face. A grin that
    enlightened Brand to the fact that not only did Lucifer want him for the job, but he also
    needed him for it. Was it because he—a man who had a vested interest in the case—
    was the only man who could get the job done. Or was it something