by Rory Miles
“Maybe we could watch TV?” Draven clicks the on button on the remote and flips through the channels before settling on one about the Catholic Church.
“Dating back to ancient Roman times, the Catholic Church’s roots are one of the oldest of the Christian religions. Ancient religious texts have been recovered at this site,” the announcer drones on and I snort derisively.
“If only they knew the truth about those texts.”
Verrina says, “Back in those times, Gaia thought it best to give light to the demons in a way the humans could understand. The whole angels and demon thing is not exclusive to the Christians.”
She’s right. Even the ancient Greek religion, the one wholly created by Gaia, spoke of miasma—or a negative energy of sorts that could only be removed through catharsis. Even Islamic texts speak of Shayāṭīn, or evil spirits. Every explanation is a derivative of the full truth. Given the nature of her beings, Gaia had to create the religions of Earth, giving them something to hold onto and a purity to strive for.
Fanatic religion spread like wildfire when the gates between the worlds opened; Gaia’s attempt of countering all of our nonsense. If only it had worked.
“Many Greeks were killed by the ancient Romans for their heathen ways.”
I sigh. “Devil below, shut this shit off. They didn’t even mention all the Christians the Greeks managed to kill before the conversion.”
Draven changes the channel to HGTV, and we all sigh in relief when Joanna comes on and begins preaching about shiplap. The show is much less intriguing, but damn, the human knows how to make a house look good.
After a few episodes, Jasper, Vicki, and Amelia return. Amelia looks a lot better and has apologized several times for her outburst. We all try to ignore her when she says sorry again. One shouldn’t have to apologize for being broken.
“All better?” I ask Jasper.
He plops down next to me on the couch. “Much, I haven’t fed like that in many years.”
“I hope you didn’t kill too many humans,” Draven says, worrying his lip. “The authorities will not be happy.”
Vicki rolls her eyes. “We killed twelve, four each between the three of us, and I really doubt the authorities will lose much sleep over the pedophiles.”
I grimace. That had to have been the most satisfying and utterly disgusting meal of their lives.
“You chose well.”
Dante and Naomi come in a few minutes later, interrupting the idle chatter. Naomi looks refreshed, and I’m pleased when Verrina gives her a hug, not seeming to mind her lover feeding off of random strangers. At least the princess understands our ways.
“Now what?” Amelia, the typically quiet vampire, asks. I’m happy to see she’s coming out of her shell a little bit. Maybe her drunken freakout was a good thing.
“We wait for the call.”
She frowns. “Are you sure it’ll happen so soon?”
I nod. “Yes.”
If I know anything about Lucifer, it’s that he can’t wait to discipline the naughty demons. He’ll be sending us escorts; it’s only a matter of time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two days later, Lucifer still hasn’t called a meeting. I’m beginning to get frustrated, and rather annoyed with every single being in this blasted house. Jasper keeps sighing dramatically and dropping his head against the couch cushion. I swear to the devil if he doesn’t stop, I’ll rip his cursed head off.
Beelzebub grunts for the thirteenth time this morning when Vicki and Amelia start giggling about some silly thing called a meme. Apparently, there is one with a little green creature they call a Yoda and it’s adorable. I’m not sure I understand the humor, but I haven’t seen Star Wars. It’s a bit too boring for my tastes.
When Jasper’s head hits the back of the couch, again, I narrow my gaze on him.
“Knock it off.”
“What?” he asks with a genuine look of confusion.
“The sighing and dramatics. It’s driving me mad.”
“Would you rather have me pacing like Dante?” He points to the incubus, who has taken up pacing in the kitchen, occasionally stopping to drink some human wine as though it will take the edge off. It’s too dangerous to indulge in the fae wine fully stocked in Draven’s pantry.
Naomi and Verrina are back in a bedroom, doing the horizontal tango for the seventh time. Draven sits in an oversized chair with his eyes closed. He’s been away from Faerie for a long time, and refuses to return until we are summoned. The male is frustrating.
When the knock finally comes, Beelzebub jumps up from the couch with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Took the bastard long enough.”
Two mindless low born demons are waiting at the front door.
“Show time,” Anakin says, rubbing his hands together and throwing on a leather jacket. Avernus is so hot the extra layer is unnecessary, but the jacket will stop most claws, at least for a while. His hair is tightly wrapped on top of his head to stop any attempted hair pulling. Micah brushes a hand through his dark hair, artfully mussing the locks and smoothing down his shirt with the other hand. Why the man insists on wearing a Gucci suit to battle is beyond me.
Dante goes to get Naomi and Verrina. They’re all dressed more practically, wearing flexible pants and shirts. I’m dressed similarly, but my leggings are shiny like leather and my bright red racer-back tank top shows off more skin. Beelzebub is in jogging pants and isn’t wearing a shirt. His wings are retracted and you can hardly see them as they’re pulled so tightly to his body. I run a hand over the ridges and he looks over at me. My fingers trail over his shoulder and down to his golden band on his left arm.
“Ready?”
He nods, looking back at Draven. “Go say goodbye to your fae.”
I grimace. My body wants to run to Draven and throw myself at him, but my mind is still holding a little grudge about the fae vow.
When I reach him, his hands are shoved into the pockets of his dark jeans and he glances at me like a bashful little fae. I know better than to fall for this act. He’s trying to weaken me. I won’t allow it.
“Promise you’ll stay safe.”
I shrug a shoulder. “I’ll do nothing of the sort and it’s foolish of you to ask. There is a real possibility we’ll all die.”
He drops the bashful act, darkness flaring in his gaze. “You will return to Faerie when you win. I’ve seen it.”
There isn’t time to ask what he means, so I say, “We’ll see.”
His shadows spill over his shoulders and down his arms. “Don’t forget who you are.”
I blink, taking a moment to really look at him. His eyes are searching my face and I understand what he means. I’m not just a succubus anymore. I’m a woman of shadows and have the strength of Mother Faerie running through me. I’m more than a sex toy. I’m powerful and I will not stop until those who have wronged me are lying dead on the ground.
A dangerous smile cuts across his face. “There it is, love. Don’t forget that darkness and determination.”
His shadows are suddenly gone, and with them, some of the murderous rage I feel flees. The feeling is still there, though, lingering in the back of my mind. Waiting to be unleashed.
“Did you just influence me?”
He pulls me to him. “Only a little.” When he kisses me, I want to refuse him for once again forcing something on me, but I can’t resist his touch. The darkness wraps around us and we are lost to the world for a few fleeting moments, nothing but his mouth on mine and that delicious, violent urge.
Draven is the first to pull away. “I’ll see you soon, Lady of Shadows.”
With those words, he disappears in a wisp of darkness.
“Fucking fae,” I growl to the empty air before turning to the waiting demons. Dante looks amused, but says nothing when I approach.
Anakin and Micah hold out their hands, and I place mine in their waiting palms. Beelzebub glances over everyone, checking to make sure we are ready, before
telling the escorts, “Take us to Avernus.”
After a short walk down the block and to a suspicious-looking alley, they stop and walk through the wall. Not really, there is a portal hovering over the adobe wall, and we all step through it. My being becomes one with the magic, traveling the spinning vortex toward the biggest fight of my life.
The trek to the tower is filled with silence. Jasper and the female vampires are whispering and planning ways to help us. I’m resisting the urge to tell them to hide until we are finished. Seeing as I’m in no position to ask my best friend to stand down, I don’t. If he has to watch me go into this fight, I can’t ask him to sit by and not do anything when he feels he could help. Besides, even if they take out a few demons, it will help.
The low born head to the common elevator. Jasper meets my gaze over the heads of Vicki and Amelia. I mouth I love you to him, because he needs to know that no matter what happens to me, he was one of the most important people in my life. He smiles and sticks his tongue out. So much for an affectionate goodbye. Perhaps he’s confident I’ll win. If only I felt the same.
I mean, I know there is a strong likelihood that we’ll succeed, but there is also a very good chance we will not. Now isn’t the time for negative thoughts, so I focus on my fae powers and trying to get a feel for how being in Avernus affects my connection with that part of me. The power is slightly muddled, and I’m not sure I can transport more than myself out of Avernus, but I can access my shadow magic.
Thank you, Mother Faerie and Draven.
We enter the lift, standing shoulder to shoulder. Dante and Naomi lean against one another, while Verrina, Beelzebub and I stand tall and ready. The numbers flash lower and lower and with them, a flutter of anxiety forms in my gut. I don’t enjoy killing, but I’m finding myself strangely unfazed at the thought of annihilating Levia. She bargained away my life for a dagger, failed to fulfill the payment, and then went after Naomi and Dante. It’s facing Lucifer that brings me the most nerves. He’s strong, handpicked by the Creator, and until now, unchallenged.
My stomach drops when the elevator stops. With a small whoosh, the door opens and Beelzebub is the first to step out. Verrina falls in line after him, leaving me, Naomi, and Dante to trail after them. Without fanfare, the prince pushes open the door and struts on stage like he has not a care in the world.
The auditorium is full of low born demons. Beelzebub and Verrina are the last of the royals to arrive. Dante, Naomi and I take our seats on our respective end of the semi-circle, and watch as the prince and princess stroll over to theirs. Levia and Berith are watching the two of them with equal looks of I’m going to murder you and what the fuck were you thinking?
Levia hisses at Beelzebub, so he stops, gives her a searing look that has her pushing back into her chair, then takes his seat which is right next to hers. Being second in line to the throne has made her brave, but we all know Beelzebub would win that one-on-one match.
Berith turns his angry glare on me, mouthing the words fae whore. I pretend like I don’t understand what he’s saying, wrinkling my brow and loudly saying, “What?”
I mean, if he’s going to call me a whore, he may as well be a man about it.
“Fae whore.” His voice booms across the auditorium and some of the chatter in the crowd dies down. They’re all waiting for a show.
“How very original of you; how long did it take you to think of that one?”
Obviously this is not the type of response he wanted, because his face turns red and I can almost picture the steam coming out of his ears. It doesn’t take much for the prince of violence to rage. All he needs is a little push.
“Are you just mad because not one,” I point to myself, “but two,” now I point to Naomi, “succubi have rejected you time and time again? I would say don’t take it personally, but. . .” I make a show of looking him up and down. “I do hate to lie in front of an audience.”
This brings some chuckles from the crowd. Berith moves to stand and Astaroth grabs his arms.
“Berry, really? The succubus makes you that angry? Have you forgotten who you are?”
The lazy prince eyeballs me like I’m trash.
“She isn’t even in the hierarchy, brother. Even I wouldn’t waste my time on her.” Well, I mean, coming from him this doesn’t say much. He doesn’t waste much time on anything.
Astaroth rarely says anything at all during the proceedings, so Berith sits in his seat, looking shocked and unsure of what to do next. Now that he’s been called out for wasting time on such lesser beings—which we all know isn’t true, we are far superior than these royals—he’ll look like a fool, rising to the baiting of silly little old me.
Levia makes a frustrated noise when Berith settles into his seat. Her gaze is full of hellfire when she swings it my way.
“You’ve crossed a line, Shera. I want my indebted back.”
Oh, Vicki, Amelia and the snake demon? Yeah, I don’t think so. First, I don’t even know if the snake demon survived his fight with Berith. Second, hell no.
Naomi answers her: “Levia, you don’t own anyone, least of all me. What were your plans with the Lord of Fire again?”
The princess visibly pales, which is quite a feat because she’s already white as a sheet. A few of the royals scrunch their faces at her, trying to understand what she could have possibly done.
“Oh yes,” Naomi drawls, “exchange a succubus and incubus for an itty bitty fae dagger that you planned to kill Lucifer with, did I get that right?”
There are gasps of surprise, eye rolls, and many whispers now.
Countess Olivia, in the first seats of the auditorium, tilts her head back and lets out one of the loudest laughs I’ve ever heard. It’s so loud, in fact, that the princes and princesses all look at her instead of shouting at Levia for being an idiot.
Olivia waves a hand, wiping at her eyes. “Don’t mind me,” she says and bursts into another fit of laughter. I don’t know much about the demon, except that she’s beautiful. Her skin is the color of wet sand and her long, dark brown hair is naturally wavy. She squeezes her pretty blue eyes shut and clamps a hand over her mouth to try and stop the fit.
“What is wrong with you?” Levia hisses the question.
The countess takes a deep breath before answering. “It’s just too much. First the prince is smitten with the succubus, and now you’re bargaining with a fae to kill Lucifer. I mean, really, have you all gone mad?” A smile breaks across her face but she doesn’t laugh again, at least not yet. “You should all just kill each other and get it over with.”
Verrier, the earl sitting next to her, pats her leg in a gesture to tell her to stand down. Seeing as he likes to break the rules, this is a surprise. Olivia glares at him.
“No, Verrier. The whole lot of them are well past done. Look at Berith; he’s almost well-done, steaming and spouting like a rage-addled fool. If they kill each other, where do you think that leaves us?”
Ah, of course. Someone always wants something.
She nods when he finally gets it. “We’ll be that much closer to the throne.”
“You’re a fool,” Astaroth mumbles to her moments before Berith lunges from his chair and practically sprints across the stage.
Olivia lets out a squeak moments before his red hands are on her throat. Beelzebub shifts in his seat, but before he can do anything to stop it, Berith has yanked her head from her body with clawed hands. Black blood splatters across Verrier’s face. He’s sitting stock still and avoiding the rage rolling off the prince. Berith is easily provoked on any normal day, but today, all it would take is breathing in a way that displeases him.
He drops her body and head, letting it thud to the ground, and hops back on the stage. When he licks some black blood off his hand, I nearly gag.
Some of the crowd is cheering and yelling his name. This is all a game to them. Hell, it’s a game to the royals as well. What they don’t realize is how very serious I am about my plan. This is not a game to me, thi
s is war.
Verrier is trying to discreetly push the head closer to the body so the regeneration can begin, but Berith gives him a withering glare. Olivia will remain dead until he forgets about her body, or until he allows the severed head to be reattached.
Lucifer steps onto the stage quietly, taking in the aftermath. “Very interesting. What do we have here? A divide between my royals?” He strolls out in a pair of black slacks and a black button-up shirt. He’s dressed for bloodshed. When he glances to me, he says, “I see you have something to do with this controversy. Why am I not surprised?”
Levia glares at the high lord. “I want her dealt with. Everyone saw her banish Carnivea.”
Lucifer smiles, but it isn’t kind. “Why do you think I would care what happens to Carnivea? Isn’t she plotting against me?”
Levia suddenly looks uncomfortable, pursing her lips together.
“Tell me, my dear Levia, why were you at her little show? Were you being a naughty little demon?”
The tension ratchets up ten notches with his question, the entire royal line stiffens and looks anywhere but at Levia and Lucifer. Levia’s brows have drawn down, and she sneers at him.
“You are rather paranoid.”
Lucifer places a hand on his bare chest. “Me? Paranoid? Never, my dear.” He opens his arms and spins on stage, taking the time to meet the gaze of each royal in the first, second and third hierarchy.
“You’ve all got your plots. Admit it.”
Everyone shifts in their seats a bit. I gape at him, not sure if I’m impressed or frightened.
“What are you waiting for?” He hms, drums his fingers on his chest and shouts, “You’re all here!” His words echo around the auditorium. The lower demons are murmuring amongst themselves; the possibility of bloodshed sets off a round of wagering.
“Well,” he asks, eyes stopping on me. “What are you waiting for?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
When no one bursts into action, he chuckles. “So you’re all talk and no play. Figures. The lot of you don’t even have the balls to come at me when I give you an opening.”
