by Lexi Ostrow
Sympathetically, she smiled at him and stepped away, behind the carriage where people were less likely to see her actions. Small whispers floated to his ears, but despite nearly tipping sideways to hear the conversation, he could not make sense of anything. The transmission could not last much longer, yet the longer it did last, the more he knew his perfect evening was doomed to come to an end.
The snow fell around him, appearing to dance as it floated gracefully to the floor and for the first time he wondered if he would ever get to dance with Clara. There were so many memories he knew he wished to make with her, and yet, even with the looming threat, he could not say he was ready to dedicate his life to her. There might be a time for that in the future, but for the present, he simply wanted to spend as much time in her presence as he could . . . whilst not fighting some terrible monstrosity.
The soft crunch of snow alerted him that she was returning, and he turned, trying his damnedest not to let his disappointment show. When she looked up at him, his suspicions were confirmed. Her beautiful face held no morsel of the enjoyment that had lingered there just moments before. Instead, her expression was passive, not cold, but not emotive.
“Tell me that was simply Thomas wishing us a pleasant eve of theatre and wine.” He heard the crack of disappointment in his voice.
Sighing, she shook her head and offered him a small smile. “It sounded like it would have been a beautiful night.”
“However, there is something that requires your attention?”
Nodding she sighed once again, her breath a small puff in the cold night air. “They found a Succubae den. Six women, just outside of Rome. I am one of five that work for the Alliance, and I have been asked to go in and help them determine if the women are friend or foe. They do not bear Seraphina’s mark, but they claim to have hidden and to have stayed far from Hell for the past century.”
“And you are required because you can sense something they cannot?”
She laughed and her hair tossed as she did. “No. I am to affirm or deny their claims on remaining out of Hell. We are not mindreaders or anything. I can simply offer if I have seen them, or have ever heard word of their den.”
Opening the door to the carriage, he closed his eyes, blew out a breath and forced himself to smile before turning to her. “Well then, I suppose this was simply a quick jaunt through the city. Perhaps one day we might do this and gaze at twinkling Christmas lights.”
Stepping up into the carriage she beamed at him as he climbed. “You’ve named them!”
Smiling genuinely at her excitement he nodded. “I felt since they were to be something of a Christmas present to you, the name was fitting.”
“Very much so.”
“Coachman!” Hugo shouted, raising his voice only a small amount so as not to draw attention. When the elder man turned from his perch atop of the carriage Hugo continued. “Please see us back to the palace. We are unfortunately unable to attend this night.”
With a nod and a shout, the familiar trot of hooves filled his ears. Hastily, he tugged the carriage door shut, nearly falling out as he did.
“There will be other nights,” Clara murmured, gazing out the window at the theatre as they began to pass it by.
“Absolutely, my love. There will be other nights.”
Eighteen
“It is a shame,” Dieargog hissed as he dragged a sharp claw over the cheek of the Thresher Demon in his grip. “That you are loyal to that farce of a leader.” Lightening fast his nail slashed across the demon’s neck, spurting thick ichor as the creature gurgled and dropped to the ground.
“We will not help you.” Snarled an Illusion Demon that was not clocked in guise. Its brown skin oozed with puss and gnarled, pointing teeth jutted out as it spoke. “She gave us freedoms we have not had in centuries. You will simply kill us as you fit it.”
There was no need for a response. His mouth opened, and a small shred of fear passed over the demon’s face, likely in acknowledgment of what was to come. Flicking his tongue under the bridge of his mouth he allowed his jaw to fully unhinge, and fire to burst out.
The Illusion Demon’s howl echoed off the walls of his self-made dungeon. The scream pierced the grumbling and grunts of those that stood in watch. Flames licked and danced over the creature’s body, even as it did it’s best to cease the inferno. Pus oozed out of the pores, but could only stop small patches from igniting. It clawed rather frantically at its face, but there was no hope for it.
Turning as best as he could, he looked to the Fallen Angel by his side. “You promised me you’d find me a species I could work with. You have failed.”
“There are many that are loyal. Seraphina offered a hunting ground without danger of persecution. Some found that more pleasing than I. I prefer revenge and showing the humans who are truly the superior race.”
The pretentiousness of the Fallen called Rourke was nearly as great as his own. It had both intrigued and disgusted him when the man had shown up at the cave, pledging his allegiance.
“I asked you to find me a race, an entire race.” He looked over the molten lava bars he’d created in the large cavern that sat near an entrance to Hell. “Where are they?”
Rourke gestured to a cage filled with green-skinned, yellow-eyed demons. Webbed feet indicated they were from an aquatic realm and being without the substance was likely killing them, making them eager.
“And what are they?”
“They are Kappas. Vampiric demons that can change any they bite into mind slaves after a short passing of time.
He looked rather dismissively back over the almost frog-like demons. They were small, but he had to admit he was impressed at how quiet they sat. “Very well then, Kappa Demons, where does the bitch-queen reside.”
“We work for none.” Croaked the one closest to the bars, its face nearly pressed into the cage. “Kappa’s enslave whom we wish. We care not to be enslaved.”
The creature’s statement shocked him. For such tiny beings, they should tremble in his wake, not dismiss him as if they have a choice in the subject at hand. “What makes you believe there is a choice?”
“You have not received the information you seek from any others.” A different demon groused.
“And I have destroyed all those that would not answer.”
“Kappa’s would gladly take death over servitude.”
Removing an entire race from existence would indicate to all those that dare defy me that I am not Seraphina. She might have had the Nightmare Demons hunted down and slaughtered, but I can annihilate the Kappa Demons this very moment.
“Do these two speak for you all . . . all thousand or so of you trapped within that cell?”
A strange and cacophonous series of sounds followed, all indicating that it was the opinion of the whole. Perhaps they suffer from a hive mind condition.
“Very well.”
Rearing back, his wingtips scraping the cave ceiling, he opened his jaws and forced a ball of crackling, brilliantly bright fire to fly out, whizzing straight for the cage. The impact was a glorious screech. Closing his mouth he stared at the mass before him, and as much as he’d like to have seen about their destruction, he knew the smoke and flames would destroy everything in its wake until it hit the snow. His fire could withstand anything should he wish it to, but he had not.
“Come then,” he said to the five Fallen Angels that stood in the cave.
Many winced at the sounds of death that echoed all around them, Rourke did not. All five flashed out, leaving to met him just down the mountainside where Lucius was held, nearly ready to die. That will not do, he thought, knowing exactly what it was he had to do.
Pushing his bulbous body through the cave entrance, he grunted as a part of the cave crashed beside his rear foot. With a downward thrust of his wings, he took to the skies, effortlessly navigating back towards the location of his small, but mighty army. The cold winter air touched only his eyes, his skin proving to be too thick a shell for it to penetrate.
Even after all these years, Dieargog still scoffed as he landed in the fluffy snow. As with the wind, he could not feel it. However, he disliked the sensation of sinking beneath his feet. Perhaps it reminded him of his centuries trapped.
Trapped because of Lucifer and Seraphina, he growled in his mind. He’d spent months looking for that bitch. He’d traipsed all over the known world, searching for the Alliance sect that she resided in. Twice he’d returned to London, and three times to Ireland, believing she’d be with her husband. Yet, each trip had turned up neither the man he’d heard her call Kellan or her.
The Nightmare Demon is your last chance. The thought was unpleasant but apparent. Torture, physical and mental, had not cracked the demon’s loyalty. He’d not even be able to pull the name of the creature’s mate to track her down. Being the last of one’s kind apparently made one more powerful.
Plodding through the snow, he knew what he must do. The five Fallen awaited him, wings as black as night stood out like an ink stain against the snow. All were his to command, and each would provide him with what was necessary.
“Who has the strongest mind?” He breathed as he approached, a lick of fire shooting forth in his hastiness.
“I am,” volunteered a blond Fallen.
“Wonderful.” He turned to Rourke. “Take these three with you. Scout every stone of Ireland and then head to London once that is complete. The Royals shelter the Alliance, and she is married to an Irishman. Do not return until you find her . . . and do not return without her in your possession.”
Something akin to ire flashed in Rourke’s eyes, but he gave a firm nod, and in the blink of an eye, only one Fallen remained.
“Thank you for your service in this. It is more useful than your brethren could ever be.” He lifted his front leg, as one would raise an arm, and closed his fist. In a swift motion, he knocked him into the demon’s head, dropping him into the snow. Carefully, he picked the man up, needing him alive in order to make a proper offering, and squeezed into the cave.
Lucius lay before him, ichor surrounding him on the stone ground and plenty dried on his ridiculous suit. His skin appeared thin and stuck to his bones as if he were dehydrating like a piece of fruit. His black eyes, however, were open, staring directly at him.
Dieargog tossed the Angel as close to Lucius as he could. “Go on then. Heal yourself. I cannot continue with you if you are dead.”
Lucius’ eyes did not close, and for a moment, Dieragog wondered if he’d let the man go on so long he could not work his mind enough to save his life. Then, very slowly, the demon’s eyes fluttered closed. He stared, waiting impatiently, for the death of the Fallen. Terror sounded off the cavern walls, echoing a thousand times louder than the damned demon screamed.
And then it was over, nearly as quickly as it began. Though when he looked to Lucius now, the man almost glowed. His skin was flush with color, and though blood still seeped from an injury at his temple, Lucius flicked his eyes open, and vibrancy shone in them.
“Very well then. We will try this again.”
“You made a foolish mistake.” Lucius’ voice rang louder than it had in weeks, and a smug smile danced on his lips. “My leg is broken, but my soul is stronger.”
“That would have been the point.” Dieargog snorted, sending a puff of grey smoke out his nostrils. “I was not getting what I wanted with threats and pain.”
“So, you believe feeding me was the solution?” Lucius sneered.
“I believe that we can come to an arrangement. I have seen into your soul. I know what you desire, the same as you know what a creature fears. Threats to your mate were no good as whomever she is was impossible to locate. Your kin as well. They were smart, staying out of harms way so thoroughly.”
The Nightmare Demon beamed with pride, obviously thrilled with his family’s survival skills. “Then you have nothing to bargain. I might despise Seraphina, but her mate is my best bloke, and she is not the same bitch she once was. Her death serves me no purpose and seeing you command all of Hell based on taking the throne,” he barked out a laugh. “I’ll take the devil I know thank you.”
His skin bristled, annoyance threading its way through him like a seamstress’s thread. “Your mate is not all that I saw. Known or unknown to you, there is something else you hold dear.”
“There is nothing. I serve dutifully, and I have many friends, but none matter to me as my wife and offspring.”
Lucius did not seem to realize how much he regretted being the last of his kind. Whilst there was not a being alive that could resurrect the dead, he was certain the rumors of his kinds powers included such a feat.
"I can give you that which was lost - taken from you." The creature's forked tongue slid to and fro like a serpent’s. "All you need to do is share one location with me."
He knew what images flared to life in the man’s mind. A mother and father, an entire species flourishing because he’d given up the bitch that had murdered them. He gave the images a mental nudge, showing Lucius a scenario where his kind were rulers. By whatever means necessary, he thought of the outlandishness of Nightmare Demons ruling anything.
Lucius stood, frozen, before him. The demon's black eyes roared with emotions. There was only one that mattered, and it shone out of his eyes as brightly as hope had moment’s prior.
"What do you need to know?"
A smile curved, exposing his sharp teeth. “Very good, demon. Tell me exactly where Seraphina resides.”
“Bloody hell!” Clara coughed, grabbing for the nearest towel.
Fire leapt from the table, the small dragon creature’s wing engulfed in flames.
“Clara!” Hugo called, racing to her side.
“The wing, it malfunctioned. Help me get it out before we destroy the leather covering.”
He wasted no time tugging his coat off, flapping it erratically over the flaming invention. Smoke billowed up, making her eyes water and sting despite the goggles covering them.
Finally, the smell of burning material stopped, and the heat dissipated. Clara waved her hand a broke up the grey smoke, still coughing as she did.
“It’s out,” Hugo sighed, dropping into the chair opposite her. “Do you think-”
“That the larger one we are to fly any day now will flame when the wings move?”
He nodded.
“No. The wing pattern on this was too quick. The one we will captain is too heavy for the wings to work up to such a speed.”
His sigh of relief was visible. “Thank our stars for that.”
She smiled. They’d received word last eve that the demon had been spotted. Nathaniel had taken a team to search for him and found only footprints, but it gave them more information than they had previously. It had been just three months since they’d lost one of their own, and if fate were on their side, he would be returned them within the week.
A screeching wail sounded through the workspace, sending her leaping up from her chair. Demon alarms had been installed in the wing the Alliance of Silver and Steam was inhabiting. The sound screamed in her ears, and her heart pounded. The crystals were only programmed to initiate for a large-scale demon presence, something the Angels had rigged up.
“Everyone, stay within the halls of the palace. Let the hunters do what they are trained to do. Stay vigilant and stay put.” Eliza shouted above the shrill sound.
Clara watched as she weaved through the tables, heading for the door. Without hesitating, she began to move.
“Clara!”
Turning her head, she saw the fear in Hugo’s eyes. Dread that she might meet her end. “Hugo, I am a hunter first. I also cannot let Eliza go alone.”
“Not alone you aren’t.” He pushed up from the chair and joined her, slipping his hand into hers. “That’s the point of this mating is it not, that you are not alone in anything?”
Her heart swelled, and she barely contained the desire to press her lips to his. The current moment was not the time, but there would plenty o
f reasons to do so later.
“Come on then. She can’t get too far.”
Eliza stepped out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. Clara raced, Hugo keeping pace with her, out the door and nearly fainted.
A giant, green foot was visible outside the window . . . the second story window. Talons dark as steel and as sharp as any blade shattered through the window just meters next to where they stood. The alarms chimed, and if Clara didn’t know better, she would have sworn they grew louder with their warning.
Eliza paused only long enough to run to the broken window’s edge and look up. “Lucius!” her strangled cry could barely be heard inside the palace halls.
Clara’s heart pounded in her chest. The moment had come to prove her worth, to make up for her pathetic life before she became an Alliance of Silver and Steam member. Dieargog had found them first, tracked them or murdered some demon to gain information. Hardly any knew of their location within the palace.
Gasping, she nearly stumbled backwards into Hugo as what looked like no less than a hundred Illusion Demons suddenly appeared in the courtyard below where the Dragoniari flew. She could hazard a guess that the Angels had acted quickly, flashing in and out the moment the attack was realized.
“Can they protect bystanders from the damage?” Hugo’s voice was shrill with fear.
Her heart broke as she beside her mate, knowing that he was about to race towards his death because she’d been unable to ignore the sexual pull she’d felt for him, and he was too kind to have walked away from her when their mating began.
“I’m sorry.” She said, unsure if her words reached above the howl of the force outside.
“I’m not sure how that answers me?” Hugo asked, his hand reaching toward his communicator.
“I’m sorry you’re a part of this because of me, and no, an illusion can not stop harm. Should Dieargog send pieces of this building flying or cast about his flames, there will be damage.”
“He has Lucius,” Eliza shouted, coming in from where she stood on the window ledge. “I’ve got to get to him. I’ve got to save him, and you must get to the dragon.” Eliza stumbled away from them, barreling down the hall.
