Grave Consequences (Hellgate Guardians Book 2)

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Grave Consequences (Hellgate Guardians Book 2) Page 7

by Ivy Asher


  “Me? I wouldn’t,” he defends, and it confuses me even more when his statement and the look on his face ring true to me. “The Ophidian...that’s just something we used to… Wait.” He pauses, his eyes going distant. “That can’t be…” he whispers, his brow furrowing and his tone perplexed and eerie. His head snaps up, and his eyes focus back on me. I watch as comprehension dawns on him like the sunrise, and in the time it takes to inhale and then let it out, Lucifer is gone.

  Just poof, disappears.

  The blade-end of the scythe hits the ground, no more Adversary there to hold it aloft, and everyone blinks for a moment like they’re trying to understand what just happened.

  “What did we miss?” Driftwood asks, looking around at the table and then back to where Lucifer just disappeared from.

  I’m surprised that they aren’t all jumping on me, ready to mete out revenge for threatening the King of Hell, but they seem more interested in solving whatever riddle just went down between what I said and the apparent conclusion that Lucifer came to because of it.

  “Fuck!” Tazreel says, his fist banging on the table. “He left without telling me who the mother is.”

  “He mentioned the Ophidian. Who is that?” Elle asks, looking around at the others, but they all shrug.

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier that you were attacked in the Vestibule?” Tazreel demands.

  My eyes narrow. “When was I supposed to tell you? Before or after you yelled at me and threw me in the dungeon?”

  Gasps fly out of some Abdicated mouths. “You put your progeny in the dungeon, Taz?”

  “Oh, please, like you wouldn’t have done the same thing,” he says to Ginger. She just shrugs, not denying it.

  “We should be able to narrow it down. If Luce knows who the mother is based on the scythe, then that’s our clue.”

  They all move forward until I’m being squished by Abdicated, like we’re all sharing the same tiny ass elevator. They all hem and haw over the scythe, fingers grazing over the wood as they take it in, each of them very careful not to touch the blade.

  “I think only Grims can call scythes,” Ace—the slouched ash-colored male—says, his tone quiet.

  “I didn’t fuck a Grim!” Tazreel replies, his tone put-out. Some of them look like they don’t believe him.

  “But what is a Grim if not a true Gatekeeper? It’s been so long since the other Gatekeepers were around, but wouldn’t they be able to call a scythe too?” Jewelry dude observes thoughtfully. “This scythe is most definitely the key, but Borf is the oldest Savor there is. He would have tasted Gatekeeper in her if it was there,” he adds.

  “Unless Borf never cataloged a Gatekeeper,” Elle comments.

  “But her coloring…” Driftwood says, interrupting that line of discussion as she looks at my purple wings with envy. “It’s very unusual.”

  “Hmm.” The bald male taps his plush lips in thought. At least he’s not still eating. “You said something about Guardians?”

  I nod tersely, trying to back away from them so that they can give me a little room to breathe. “I was with them in the Vestibule. But we were overrun with Outer Ringers attacking us. I barely made it here.”

  “Call the Guardians, Taz.”

  My eyes snap over to him, but before I can open my mouth to tell him the Outer Ringers killed them, he snaps his fingers, and a puff of steam erupts ten feet away, shadowed silhouettes visible through the mist.

  For a second, my heart is caught in my throat, choking me with soaring hope, but then the steam clears, and I see two familiar demons. My heart lurches and then stalls. They’re not my demons.

  “Flint. Alder.”

  Their eyes snap toward me, gazes widening. “Delta? What the fuck is going on? Where are we?”

  The crushing sadness claws at me. Just for that split second, I actually thought I was going to see my Guardians. I thought for a millisecond that maybe somehow they came through the attack alive, even though I know better.

  I have to clear my throat and blink my eyes rapidly so that tears don’t gather. “Umm, you’re in Nihil.”

  Flint’s marble face stretches into an expression of shock. Alder touches his lily flower propped behind his ear, like it’s a nervous gesture, before rubbing absently at his watercolor skin. They both take in the Abdicated warily, their eyes moving from them to me.

  Alder’s nostrils flare when his eyes bounce from my scythe to the purple wings hanging from my back. “So you are a true Gatekeeper?” he asks, and I don’t miss the hope that’s dripping from his tone.

  “I—”

  “Gate Guardian,” Tazreel cuts me off. “Tell me about this attack in the Vestibule,” he demands.

  “No, that’s not them,” I intervene. “I know them, but these aren’t my Guardians. Mine…” My voice cuts out, like my throat is strangling me from the inside, refusing to say the words. “They died in the Vestibule protecting me.”

  Flint and Alder gape. “What?” they both say at the same time.

  I look down at the fabric of my dress, trying to count the little moonstones sewn into the fabric so that I can try to keep my shit together.

  “Oh, wrong ones,” Tazreel says.

  I lift my head back up, but Tazreel just snaps his fingers again, making Flint and Alder disappear just as quickly as they’d come.

  “What the fuck?” I yell at him. “You didn’t even let me explain to them what happened!”

  “Quiet, daughter.”

  I growl, low in my throat, suddenly furious. “Don’t call me that.”

  “This is getting exciting,” Driftwood chirps behind me.

  Tazreel ignores me completely and then snaps his fingers again. Steam erupts, once again encasing silhouettes who are looking around wildly. “How about these?” Taz asks.

  I give a cursory look to the trio of demons looking back at me. “No,” I snarl.

  Another snap, and the unfamiliar trio disappears. I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to breathe in and out slowly. This is making me want to scream in anger while simultaneously shredding my heart to ribbons.

  “Hmm. How about—”

  “STOP! Just stop! They fucking died!” I scream, the first onslaught of furious tears escaping despite how hard I’m trying to fight them. “They died trying to protect me, and it’s all my fucking fault!” My voice rings out, silencing every single demon in the room. They all look at me like I’ve gone fucking berserk.

  But does that stop Taz? Nope. The motherfucker—literally—snaps his devil damned fingers again, filling the room with so much steam, it looks like the inside of a sauna.

  I turn away in disgust, hating him for putting me through this. I grip my scythe, ready to rage until I manage to destroy this room like I did my own kitchen.

  But then I hear four familiar voices say my name at exactly the same time, and my blood turns ice-cold, freezing me in place. “Delta?”

  7

  My head snaps up, and I stare at the four demons that my head and heart know well.

  Is this a trick? How are they here?

  My feet feel like they’re fixed to the floor as I stare at them, scanning them for injuries or evidence of the fight I saw go down with my own eyes, but they look...fine. Perfectly okay. It doesn’t make any sense. I watched Jerif go down. He was overrun. And yet he stands right there looking as sour as ever, not a scratch on him.

  “How?” I ask on a choked sob.

  And then all at once, I decide it doesn’t matter. They’re there, fifteen feet away from me. I don’t care if they’re dead somehow and able to be called into the Center Ring of Hell because of some Abdicated power. For the moment, I don’t care if there’s some other explanation, because they’re here.

  I sprint toward them, closing the distance between us in a blink. I ignore what appears to be a speedy new ability as I flash forward, instantly wrapping my arms around the first demon I slam into.

  Jerif’s skin is warm and soothing, and he smells exactly like
I remember. If this is just a spirit or a hologram, it’s a good one.

  I feel bodies press in all around me until I’m wrapped up in a giant demon bear hug circle. I squeeze Jerif with all my might, so relieved to see them that it trumps every other emotion. I can feel the tears and sobs sitting in my chest like they’re waiting their turn, but right now, all I can focus on is touching them, looking at them, being with them again.

  “I didn’t see her going for Jerif first,” Echo grumbles.

  “Same. I always thought we were her favorites. Maybe it was a trajectory thing? He just happened to be closest?” Crux adds as he pets my shoulder.

  “That’s probably it,” Echo agrees, talking over my head. He places a kiss on my hair before his eyes land on my wings. “When did you get all feathery, Swampy?” he asks, and I feel them step back from me.

  I laugh and shake my head as I look around at the four of them. Jerif gives me one more bruising squeeze before he sets me back down on my feet, but he does it slowly, like he doesn’t really want to let me go. My heartbeat is racing so hard that it sounds like horse’s hooves pounding on a track. His fiery eyes are filled with the same relief I’m wearing, and I get lost in them for a second. This...this is the intensity I always knew was in Jerif, but instead of the asshole side, all of that intensity is filling me with molten heat that has nothing to do with anger.

  “Are you really here? Are you dead?” I demand, terrified that they’ll confirm that they are, in fact, dead, and this reunion will only be short-lived.

  “We’re not dead,” Echo tells me, but I can’t quite believe it. I have a stranglehold on hope, because if they disappear, it will ruin me.

  “Where are we?” Iceman asks, and all of them finally look away from me and take in our surroundings.

  “Ho-ly shit.” Crux’s wide green eyes land on the group of Abdicated, and he drops to his knee and does this weird hand-over-heart, head-bowing thing.

  One by one, Echo, Iceman, and Jerif all drop into the same bow. I watch them with confusion before noticing I dropped my scythe before I tackle-hugged the guys.

  “Bow,” Iceman tells me out of the corner of his dark blue lips.

  “Huh?”

  “Bow,” he murmurs again, like he’s nervous at the fact I’m still standing.

  I cast a look at Tazreel, who’s watching me with his arms crossed in front of his chest, a smug expression on his face. “I’m not bowing to that asshole,” I say.

  In a blink, Echo is on his feet beside me, his pale hand slapped over my mouth. “Babe, you can’t call the Abdicated an asshole,” he hisses in my ear. His shadowed tattoos dance off his fingers and slither against my lips, like they missed me and want a little kiss.

  I pull his hand away from my mouth, noticing that all four guys have closed ranks around me. “Relax, guys. He’s not going to do anything. Lucifer forbade it,” I say as I smirk over at Taz, my turn to look smug.

  Iceman’s eyes go as wide as icy saucers, and his hand comes up protectively to settle on the small of my back. “Lucifer...you met Lucifer?”

  “Yeah. I—”

  “I assume by your familiarity and obnoxious display of affection that these are, in fact, the Guardians who were with you in the Vestibule battle?” Tazreel says, interrupting me.

  Obnoxious?

  I send him a peeved look but give him a clipped, “Yes.”

  Tazreel and the others have formed a line like a wall of Abdicated, staring down my demons. “Where did you find my daughter?” Tazreel asks.

  Every single one of my demons tenses up. I can feel Iceman’s cold skin seeping through his button-down shirt on my left, while Jerif’s heat soaks into me on my right.

  “Daughter?” Crux breathes, and I can feel the shock permeate through them like mist rising from the ground.

  “Yeah. I fell through the Nihil Ring, and I guess it brought me here because...he’s my sperm donor.”

  “Sire,” Tazreel corrects.

  Crux turns, grinning like a loon and raises his hands in victory. “Ha! I told you guys! I totally called it that she was a Nihil. It’s impossible,” he mock-argues, sounding like a mix of Iceman and Jerif. “But it wasn’t, I fucking called it!”

  “Quiet,” Tazreel demands, instantly making Crux’s tanned, surfer boy face go pale. When Taz is satisfied that he has their full attention, he goes on. “Is it true you found my daughter in the Mortal Realm and she had no idea what she was?”

  “Yes,” they all answer, and I know instantly that he’s using that same truth mumbo jumbo magic on them that he used on me.

  “You took her to the Vestibule and were attacked. How did you get away?”

  Jerif’s eyes meet mine, and I can’t look away. For just a second, we share a private look, but I’m suddenly seeing him from before—when he had Outer Ringers piled all over him, stabbing into his broken body again and again while he told me to run—to save myself. I blink my eyes hard at the memory, trying to shove it away because it hurts too bad. The pain is too fresh.

  A blanket of comforting heat slips against my palm, and I look down, tears springing in my eyes when I see Jerif’s fingers threading through mine. He holds my hand firmly, his hot thumb melting those shattered pieces of my heart so they can be molded back together again.

  Iceman answers Taz’s question. “One second, we were completely surrounded. Overtaken. Dying. I knew it was over,” he says, and it’s so hard to hear, but I take in Iceman’s words because I need to know how this is possible. “But then, they all suddenly retreated. Just like that, all at once. They poured back into the Outer Rings.”

  “They didn’t even attempt to break through your Gate while you were down?” Taz asks, head cocked.

  “No, they just left,” Echo says, with a shrug that communicates he’s just as much at a loss as the rest. “It took us...a long time to heal enough to move,” he adds, darting his pitch-black eyes my way as his shadows coalesce around his skin. “Jerif was in bad shape.”

  “I healed,” he says gruffly, giving my trembling hand a squeeze.

  I know he’s playing it off for my sake, trying to downplay how bad it was. But I know. I know he was an inch from death. It’s right there, in his flaming eyes and the way his dark skin spreads with a chill.

  “We thought they took her,” Crux adds, looking at me as he runs his hands through his shaggy blond hair. “We went to our Rings to heal faster, and we had a plan set in motion to go search for her in the Outer Rings. We were just meeting in the Vestibule, shoring up our Hellgate when you brought us here.”

  The Abdicated share a look.

  “Hmm.” That’s all Tazreel says, not giving away anything he’s thinking. “Alright, that will be all.”

  He raises his hand to snap them away. “NO!” My scream ricochets throughout the room, stopping him. “I need them here with me,” I pant, terrified he’s going to make them disappear. My hand is squeezing Jerif’s so tightly that I’m surprised I’m not breaking any bones.

  “Ooh,” Elle purrs, looking at us as she flashes teeth and juts out her lace-covered breasts. “Your daughter is fraternizing with those below her. How scandalous.”

  Taz scowls at me, but he drops his hand. “Are they your menagerie?”

  “What? No,” I stutter as my cheeks fill with a blush.

  “No? Wonderful,” Elle says with a sultry smile, her red wings fluffing out behind her. “One can come with me to the party then.”

  “Wha—”

  My question gets cut off as Elle saunters forward, grabbing Crux by the arm. “Come along.”

  “I’ll take the blue one and the pale one,” Driftwood says, making my jaw grind.

  What the fuck is happening right now?

  Ginger spreads her orange wings behind her, her body in a warrior stance as she stares at Jerif. “Good. I like the fiery ones.”

  I throw up my free hand. “Wait a fucking second,” I snap, my head dizzy. “They’re mine,” I growl. I didn’t even know I could sound
as furious as I do.

  The female who grabbed Crux and started to walk him away looks back at me over her exposed shoulder. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Oh,” I counter. “You can’t take them.”

  Beside me, Echo slips closer, placing a hand on my hip. At the same time, I feel shadows slip onto the exposed tips of my toes below my dress and slowly spiral up my ankles and legs, before swirling around my ass, caressing it possessively. “Hmm, I didn’t think you had it in you to claim us like this, Delta,” he says in my ear. “I like it.”

  I immediately regret embarrassing myself in front of everyone and claiming them without their permission, but it was just a knee-jerk reaction. The thought of my demons going with those Abdicated hussies sets my teeth on edge. And even though this is probably going to lead to a very awkward conversation later, I won’t take it back. I won’t let them walk away with anyone else other than me. I can’t. Not when I just got them back.

  “This night is getting better and better. You should host more often, Taz,” Jewelry male says with a chuckle as he picks up someone’s glass from the table and gulps the contents down. “Let’s go to the party, shall we?”

  “I thought this was the party,” I say with confusion.

  He laughs again. “This? No. This is the private dinner party just for us. The ones in Luce’s circle. The rest of the Abdicated are at the real party. I’m sure they’re dying to see who Tazreel’s progeny is,” he says before walking off, gathering members of his menagerie with his hands slung around feminine shoulders.

  “Away from them, daughter,” Tazreel orders, a displeased look falling where my hand is still gripping Jerif’s. “It’s time to introduce you.”

  Away from them? Why the hell would I get away from them?

  Tazreel’s eyes narrow when I don’t immediately obey his command.

  “I have to announce you to the rest of the Abdicated, Delta. It’s the law,” he growls, like that explains everything.

  “Don’t worry, dear, we’ll bring your pets along to witness the fun,” Jewelry declares, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

 

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