Change was happening and it was happening quickly.

Lucifer could feel it in his bones.

He could sense it on the air.

Screaming echoed from the hellfires down below. The balcony on which he stood trembled against a shift in hell's tectonic plates. In the near distance, a volcano spewed its fiery contents in a blast of shattered rock, lava and steam that roared and hissed and turned the air hot. The burning Damned kept screaming.

Hell might not be perfect but it was his. And very soon, there was going to be so much more. Blue skies. Green fields. Virgin forests. But most of all—the great cities. All those billions of people, all those souls for the taking to add to the already endless ranks burning in his hellfires. Good or bad, virtuous or sinful, each and every one of them would be his to possess.

And torment.

Though he did not need to breathe, Lucifer took a deep breath anyway, trying to ease the band of excitement tightening around his chest. The possibilities were intoxicating.

But he had to move fast. He only had a small window of opportunity to complete his important task, only the span of twenty years or so before his vessel shrivelled with age and the one and only chance he had to rule the Earth would be forever gone.

Twenty years. Lucifer was thousands of years old. It was like a drop in the ocean of time. It seemed an impossible task. With over eight billion souls still living, how would he find her?

He turned to his greatest servant. Like the rest of the Fallen, Tyrone was dark and pale and brooding, his wings black, his skin so white he was almost translucent. His eyes were like deep holes in his head. A husk of his former self, he'd once bathed in God's golden light, he'd once been beautiful and glorious, but that was before he'd turned to Lucifer, before he'd turned to the darkness and all his light and love had snuffed out.

He was a capable and loyal servant. He'd been with Lucifer since the beginning, patiently waiting for the time when the Age of the Angel would eventuate and they could take back what was rightfully theirs.

Earth.

'You must use every resource you have,' Lucifer said. 'Spare no angel, demon or slithering filth. We need to find her. Already, time is slipping through our fingers.'

His servant bowed. 'How should we begin, my lord?'

Lucifer released a breath as he leaned against the railing. 'I'm not sure.' He closed his eyes. 'But I feel her. She's out there somewhere. And I know she can feel me too. She ought to; she was made for me. If things are happening as I hope, she will reveal herself to you. She wants to be by my side, though she may not know it yet.' He turned to Tyrone. 'Let her fulfil her destiny.'

'And if she doesn't?'

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. 'As I said, use all the resources you have. Flood the earth with darkness if you must. Reveal yourself to humanity. It's crucial that you find her before our enemies do, else it'll be so much harder.' He turned back towards the view. 'Do not fail me. Time is short.'

With another bow, Tyrone turned and walked back towards the castle, his black wings gleaming red against the light of hell's blazing fires. The balcony shuddered again as the erupting volcano lost its side in a huge landslip, sending rocks pummelling into the slimy lakes below.

Leaning his elbows against the railing, Lucifer watched his dominion. If only he could leave this place, he would search for her himself. It would be so much simpler. But though hell was his domain, it was just as much his prison. God had made sure of it.

Closing his eyes, he reached out with his senses. He could feel her like a pull in his chest, like a nag at the back of his head, like a throb in his groin. With his eyes still closed, he tried to remember his visions. They were innumerable but hard to recall, little more than flashes and glimpses. If only he could see her properly—but visions were rarely clear.

Maybe in time, as they both grew closer.

He had never known a woman's touch. Her smooth, brown skin had felt so good beneath his hands, surprisingly good. He couldn't remember her face but he did recall thick, dark hair draped over slim, firm shoulders and a pair of breasts that even now made him grip the railing with aching hands.

The dawn of the Great Reckoning was affecting him more than he expected. Not as an angel, not even as Satan, had he ever experienced the urge to breed. Sex was a sin, a base urge of lower lifeforms. He couldn't say he liked it. It made him feel more human than he ought to.

With a scowl, he flung himself away and marched back towards his castle. But what had to be done had to be done, and it was the only way to break through God's containment and get to Earth.

He marched through several halls. Flaming torches bracketed into the volcanic rock wavered against his passing. Lower demons and fragments of distorted evil scuttled and crawled and slithered out of his way.

He already had angels out looking for her. They'd already taken to the skies, searching on their great, black wings. Even now, before things had fully begun, those on Earth would be looking upward, fearful and wondering with their eyes wide open. It had been millennia since the last time it had happened.

The thought made him smile.

He entered his chambers, large and cavernous, the ceiling so high it was lost to darkness. More torches flared in their brackets, throwing a dance of light and shadow against the walls. As an angel, Lucifer had no need to sleep but he'd recently had a bed erected in preparation for her arrival. And she would arrive. He had foreseen it.

It was positioned in the middle of the room in pride of place. It was a four-poster and built of the same volcanic rock as the rest of his castle. A canopy of sheer black drapes enclosed a large mattress made up with black silk sheets. Several pillows were propped up against the headboard.

He circled the bed, thinking, imagining. Then, pushing the drapes aside, he sat down, gripping his knees tightly as he stared down into his lap. It was uncomfortable. It was disconcerting. Is this what a human man had to deal with? Why couldn't Lucifer control it? Why did it have to make its presence known when he couldn't even make use of it yet?

So inefficient.

He opened his pants and stared at it. He'd always had it, of course, both when he was one of God's angels and all his centuries as Satan, but it had always been a pointless appendage, hanging between his legs uselessly. It had never been like this.

Alive.

He grasped it and smoothed his hand over it. He couldn't deny it felt good. Sinful. The thought made him laugh. What would it feel like inside a woman? Inside his vessel?

He moved his hand up and down smoothly, watching as it hardened, blushed and engorged. Pleasure—an unusual feeling, something denied him for far too long. Closing his eyes, he thought of his visions, imagining her soft breasts beneath his hands, his fingers clawed through her long dark locks, the warmth of her womanhood as it encompassed him.

Too soon, he ejaculated. Arching his neck, he gazed up into the bed's canopy with a grunt, enjoying the waves of sensation moving up and down the throbbing length of his shaft. He could feel it deep in his groin, a burning, throbbing sensation in his testicles. But it didn't end there. He felt it through the rest of his body too, up his spine and through his arms. Even his fingers tingled. He hadn't expected that. Little wonder humans sinned so much.

He would too!

He felt the wet heat of his cum dribbling down his hand. He looked down and studied it. It glimmered in the flickering light of the torches. He could smell it, thick and robust. So this was it. This was the conduit he would use to enslave humanity and rule the world.

Almost seemed pathetic.

And too easy.

Lucifer laughed.