“He didn’t mean to harm you. You know that, right? Cercyn is a bit of a pushover. Only things he gets mad about are his brothers and when people call him a dog.”
“I heard that.” A broken voice came from the bed. Asmodeus turned around with a grin, Isabelle smiled, moving to sit on the bed next to him.
“How are you feeling? You seem to be healing well.”
The demon watched her, his sunset eyes skimming her, finally stopping on her throat where the small bruises marred her skin. The look that flashed over his face told her all she needed to know about what was going on in his head right then. Shame might as well have been written on his face in Sharpie.
“What I did to you is unforgivable. Even if you were not a Seer, no male should harm that which he is assigned to protect.” Isabelle felt it then like a breath over her skin, a surge of disgust at his own failure, his belief they should have let him die. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Stop it! No one blames you—”
“No one but Mammon blames you.” Asmodeus just had to insert that little gem into the conversation. Isabelle glared at him. The ass didn’t even have the good grace to look sorry, he just smiled.
Cercyn gently took Isabelle’s hand into his, holding it as if she would shatter like delicate glass. “My life belongs to you, Seer. From now until eternity I will protect you.”
Isabelle opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t need his protection, but Asmodeus spoke for her placing his hands on her shoulders. “The Seer gratefully accepts your fealty, warrior. May your sword keep her safe, your presence be her protective wall.”
The demon visibly relaxed, a smile pulling at his lips before sleep claimed him once again. Isabelle stood and Asmodeus steered her out the room so as not to wake the exhausted Cercyn.
“Okay, what the hell?” She stared wide-eyed at the Sin of Lust. Demon or not, she was going to kick his ass.
“Cercyn is old. Like very old. We’re talking before Hades was relegated to being the human boogeyman old. That means old world practices and customs are ingrained in him. To him, harming you should have meant his death. He would have tried to harm himself to bring about that end. Better than living with the shame of hurting you. This way he not only gets to forgive himself a little, but also he gets to feel like he is making up for his egregious mistake.”
“Egregious? Did you get that off a word-a-day calendar?” Isabelle crossed her arms over her chest. She hated the idea of the demon thinking he owed her. It had been an honest mistake. But if what Asmodeus said was true? She couldn’t live with herself if he tried to end his life over this.
Asmodeus just smiled and headed towards the kitchen. He pulled two beers from the fridge, placing one on the counter for her. He opened his, knocking it back like a university champ. Isabelle slid onto a bar stool and opened hers, watching him. The demon let out a happy belch and leaned against the fridge.
“Sorry, I am usually only in solid form when seducing someone. This time I am expending vast amounts of energy to hold this shape. As food is usually a rarity for me, I take every opportunity I can to indulge.”
“That has to be very lonely.” Isabelle sipped her beer, the cool, hoppy ale a little bitter on her tongue.
Asmodeus shrugged before grabbing himself a second one. He paused with a hand on the fridge door. “Sometimes. Being the Sin of Lust has drawbacks. Sex is well…dull. I find no pleasure in it any longer. It is a job, nothing more. Due to my Sin, I feed off the sexual energy of those I am assigned to cleanse. That, in turn, ensures my body does what it is supposed to. Taking on the form of whomever that person finds the most attractive.” He cracked open the beer, this time drinking it slower.
“I am what popular culture calls an incubus. I need sexual energy to survive, yet feel no sexual desire myself. I can see into a person’s darkest desires, things they don’t even acknowledge in their deepest hearts. I give it to them. Only those who have become Blighted, of course.”
Isabelle hated how sad he looked right then, bottle of beer against his lips, downcast eyes staring at the floor.
“Do you have your own body?” Her question interrupted his daze.
Asmodeus blinked and tilted his head a little. “I don’t remember. I must have done once. But I have forgotten what it looked like. I pick this form because Hades is my father, and as such, I guess I should look like him, at least a little. But this is just another empty face.” He gestured to himself, pushing away from the fridge. “One thing I am insanely happy about is you, Isabelle. I can’t read your desires at all. It is such a wonderful feeling, not having to see such things all the time.”
Her heart broke for him. He sounded just like she had the day she met Mammon. The day she found him, she’d felt nothing but blissful silence. No pain in her brain, just peace. The fact she could bring such a thing to this man pleased her greatly. Isabelle smiled and sipped more of her beer. She knew she was going to like spending time with Asmodeus.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Tartarus: the third level in the realm of Hades. It was a solemn place shrouded in darkness and mist. In the silence, soft cries of anguish filtered through the air. Up until a week ago, Mammon would have given anything to return to this abyss, to this silence and never-ending void of emotion. Now, he couldn’t think of a worse place to be. There was no light here, no Isabelle. She had done more than bond with him as the woman he loved. She had healed him, returning emotion, bringing light to his broken soul.
Mammon had spent much of his early life in these tunnels and caves. In fact, he knew the two main levels very well. Yet there was one place none of them had ever been allowed to enter. The Elysium Fields. It was the final resting place for souls who had returned to earth many times, that had learned from the challenges put before them. Only they could pass into the eternal resting place of utter paradise. This was the place where the souls of heroes and those who had done great deeds could exist in harmony for all eternity. Elysium was reserved for those who were exceptional in life. It was the true biblical concept of heaven, yet it had existed far longer than any written bible or manmade text. The Fields were a place of warmth and happiness, where every dream, every desire, would be fulfilled.
But first, pure human souls had to pass many times through the Isle of the Blessed, the gateway of reincarnation for those souls to return to the mortal world. Mammon had watched many young souls returning to earth to try their lives again. Many were souls collected by the Sins themselves. The rest of humanity, however, died, either passing onto Tartarus, the metaphorical ‘hell’, or left to walk the shores of the Acheron, the river of Woe, for the rest of eternity. Souls that hadn’t lived pure lives were never granted the chance to be reborn or make it to Elysium.
As he moved through the underworld, his footsteps were taken by the mist. It curled around his ankles, both greeting him as an old friend, and stealing from him the heat of his body. Mammon continued to descend into the darkness, reaching for the bond he shared with his brothers. He could feel them not too far ahead, but he could also feel the shimmering essence of the Malakhim.
Everything seemed peaceful right now, but he had no doubt it wouldn’t that way. The air was thick with battle, the scent of blood rich in the caves. Ahead, he heard low voices and the growling of a hellhound, mingled with Hades’ deep voice trying to keep order.
“Keep applying pressure to the wound, Lucifer, or you are going to bleed out. Foolish boy.”
“Bite me, old man.”
Mammon snorted. Well, it seemed like Lucifer wasn’t such a suck up to Father anymore. About time.
A low growl echoed through the darkness, and Mammon stopped in his tracks. The shimmering blood-red eyes of a hound came into view as it emerged from the shadows. It crept forward, one silent step after another, fangs bared in a deadly snarl, ears back. Its flesh was made of living shadow and mist. Terror and fear emanated from the beast for one purpose, to sink into its prey, making them easier to hunt, so it could bring down t
he enemies of its master Hades. Mammon took a step back, hands up, his eyes scanning the beast before him.
This hellhound was a true servant of Hades. It appeared small right now, but Mammon knew it could command the shadows to its will. It could pass between the worlds and rend flesh from bone with its obsidian claws and fangs. A small scar over its right eye identified the beast. Mammon locked his eyes on it, keeping his hands up he spoke slowly.
“Rusaeus, it’s Mammon. Take me to Hades.” The hound growled once more, shaking himself all over, his stance changing from threat to calm. Then he turned into the darkness, padding off into the shadows. Mammon followed behind, the caves becoming more cramped. He remembered this area and the passages that allowed only one man to move at a time. They lead from secret corridors into hidden rooms and caves deep within the depths of Hades.
A soft light glowed at the far end of the tunnel as Mammon squeezed himself through the tight passageway. His brothers visibly relaxed when he stepped into the dim torch light. Lucifer stood beside his father, holding his side with a grimace, his red eyes watching over Mammon’s shoulder. He was dirty, his shirt blood soaked, but he looked to be fine otherwise. His other brothers appeared to be uninjured. For now. Mammon knew that wouldn’t last.
His eyes moved to his father. The old man looked tired and drained. Frankly, Hades looked like hell. His hair was a mess, blood covering his suit. It was ripped in more than one place, and he had a cut high on his cheek that bled freely.
Benediktos, the last Cerberus brother, lay on the cave floor, breathing hard, bleeding from multiple wounds. He held a jar clutched to his chest. The golden clay was plainly decorated with black swirls and motifs.
“Mammon. Cer—is he?” Benediktos’ weak voice broke in the darkness, his ice-like eyes locking on the new arrival.
“He’s fine. Isabelle, our Seer, calmed him so the others could tend to him. They’re back in our home. Asmodeus is with them.” Mammon approached his father.
The bleeding hellhound let out a choked laugh. “Your horn-dog of a brother better keep his hands off Cer. I know what he’s like.” It was clear the demon was trying to lighten the mood.
Mammon smiled and nodded. “So, what’s the report? How many?”
“Five of them. Michael and Gabriel are leading. I only saw one angelic blade but Michael is like a beast with the thing. We should count ourselves lucky they only have one, or Ben would be in real trouble right about now.” Hades advised. “I never expected him to come here, foolish angel. This is my realm. I left my generals to fight them while we recovered the jar. Thanatos and Charon are no doubt having fun with them right now. Michael is a fool. Coming down here for the jar gives us an advantage at least.”
The God knelt next to the fallen demon. Benediktos nodded and offered him the jar. Hades accepted it with a small smile. He stood and placed the jar in a niche carved into the wall and turned to the waiting demons. “Thank you. I know you never expected me to say those words, but trust time has taught me much. We gods can no longer just sit in our mortal homes and expect others to fill the void left by our absence. Humans may no longer need us as they once did, but I will not abandon this realm, even if my brothers have.”
Silence reigned in the cave for many long, agonizing seconds until Abbadon spoke. “Geez, Pops. You sound so mature. When did you turn into such a philosopher?” Lucifer whacked him upside the head, Abbadon just grinned, rubbing the spot.
Hades shook his head. “You’re right. You were all created from my will and my flesh. I made you boys for one reason: to try and mitigate what Pandora did. I didn’t consider then you would continue to grow and become individuals. Shortsighted of me of course. You have all become great men.”
“Shit, Dad. You gonna make a demon cry over here.” Ze rubbed the back of his neck. Hades nodded, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips.
“So, are we done with all this lovey-dovey bullshit? Michael is not fuckin’ done. He will be back. Charon and Thanatos can only do so much. We’ve sat here with our thumbs up our fuckin’ asses just waitin’. The damned jar is a target on our backs. What the fuck are we gonna do with it?” Tanus broke the perceived happy family moment with a smack of reality.
Mammon had to admit although Tanus may be a hothead, he always got right to the point. Right now the Sin of Wrath was gripping the rock wall with one hand, the blue flames of his rage licking over his skin, casting dancing shadows against the wall. It was clear he was riding the fine line between his rage and total melt down. Mammon had to give him credit—Tanus always managed to hold his control, at least when it counted.
Hades nodded in agreement with his son, “Yes, of course, you are right, Tanus. With that in mind, I am going to take the jar down to the Cells.” That drew a growl from the hellhound and shouts of disparity from the Sins. “It is the only place they won’t be able to get the jar!” His voice shook the cavern, the writhing shadows encroaching upon them.
“If Kronus sees you, Father, you might as well be dead. Fuck, if any of the Titans see you, they won’t let you leave.” Belor spoke up. A demon of very few words, he never beat around the bush about anything.
“I know, Belor. Not even Michael could get the jar down there. If my Father manages to stop me from leaving, then I guess it will be his right. I did help imprison him.” Hades sounded so defeated, Mammon hated that tone in his voice. All around him arguments erupted and shouts filled the cave.
It was clear to Mammon in the five hundred years he’d been locked away from the light, his father had indeed changed. But that also meant he could see when Hades was making a big fucking mistake. If Hades could no longer return to the Underworld from the depths of Tartarus, then there truly would be a power void. There would be war among the lower demons. It was only Hades’ presence and power that kept them in line.
His eyes skimmed the Sins before him. Lucifer, their leader, was the power behind their blood, their strength. They needed him. Tanus, a total bastard when he wanted to be, he was the fiercest fighter they had. He could take down an army by himself. Abbadon, a total dick at times, could also be considered the morale of the family. Lazy as he was, he would go out of his way to protect those he cared about.
Belor, levelheaded, totally focused on his task, was loyal to a fault and deadly with a blade. Lucifer would need that kind of back up. Ze was the only brother who had, at one time, truly looked out for him. He was the champion of the Seven Deadly Sins, master with all weaponry. His eyes moved to his father. Hades had to stay here. Without him, there would be chaos. Benediktos was out and Rus was protecting the door. That left him.
“I’ll do it.” No one was listening to him. “I will take the jar!” His shout broke through their raised angry voices and everyone stared at him.
“Don’t be an ass, Mammon. You’re the only one of us who has something to live for. If you don’t come back, I am not fuckin’ telling that female of yours why. I’ll do it.” Tanus glared pure murder at him. Mammon almost laughed. Had he just seen a glimmer of respect in those sapphire eyes?
The voices started up again, the brothers each volunteering to take the jar, “You’re right, I have Isabelle. But if we’re to win this thing, our Father needs fighters. I spent so long in darkness, I can’t fight, not like you. I don’t have the years of practice. I am more of a burden at this point. Admit it, I’m right? It makes sense. Hades is needed here. Persephone needs him. Remember, I do have something to come back for. Going to the Cells will be a walk in the park next to five hundred years in the Pit.” He could tell they wanted to argue with him, but he could see the truth in their eyes. They loved him, but he didn’t have the battle experience they did. Lucifer came forward, his eyes pained as he stopped before his youngest sibling.
“You’d better come back. Your female will kill me if you don’t.”
“Hold them off as long as you can. Don’t put your lives in danger, any of you. Once the jar is gone, they will have no reason to keep attacking.” Mammon put his hand
on Lucifer’s shoulder, and his brother nodded, returning the gesture. The two held each other for a moment before Lucifer released him.
Ze stepped over to take Lucifer’s place, the warriors’ embrace lasting a minute. Each brother took his turn, and Mammon felt something click back into place in his heart. This was brotherhood. It was the only word for it. Tanus was the last one. He placed his hand on Mammon’s neck and pulled him forward so their foreheads touched.
“You best get your scrawny ass back here, understand? Can’t lose you again, little brother.” It was a momentous occasion—the Sin of Wrath showing affection. Mammon was so speechless he could only nod.
The runes had been thrown. He had decided his fate in that second. His mind reached for Isabelle, knowing it was impossible for her to feel him down in Hades. Closing his eyes, he reached anyway, bringing up all those memories he had been storing away. The taste of her lips and her sweet cries of pleasure as he played her body to perfection. The way her violet eyes shimmered when she told him she loved him. Gods, he should have told her he loved her more. Once wasn’t enough. He wanted her to know she was the very air in his lungs, the spark that kept his heart beating. It was too late for regrets now, though. He would just have to make it out of the Cells and back to her. Taking a breath, he looked towards his father. The god watched him with something close to admiration in his once-cold, silver eyes.
“Don’t say anything. You don’t owe me shit, old man. I am doing this to protect Isabelle. That’s it. Make sure she knows. If I don’t come back, I mean.” Hades didn’t speak, just nodded. Mammon, the youngest of the Seven Deadly Sins, took in a deep breath and moved towards the jar. He knelt to retrieve it, his thoughts on making it back to Isabelle. It was then that hell broke loose in a shower of rock, pain, and blood.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Greed's Charity (Seven Deadly Sins Book 1) Page 22
