by L. A. Banks
“You were always my most treacherous and favorite, Lilith. How could you betray me with such a loss? Had you not set the strategy in motion, Dante would still exist.” His anger seethed forth, and, baring his hooked teeth, he bent down to snatch her by her throat and then held her above his head with one clawed talon.
“I’m the only one left who has interacted with the Neteru males to know their weaknesses and vulnerabilities!” she shrieked, forestalling his blows.
He paused and stared at her for long tense seconds. “Talk to me,” he said, his tone deadly.
“I was Adam’s first wife.”
There was silence, and her mind scrambled to make her case within milliseconds.
“It was I who tricked the newest and most aggressive, Carlos Rivera, to descend to Dante’s throne briefly—only I did that. I even made him ignore the warnings of warrior angels! Dear husband, please consider the possibilities as you rightfully rage against me.”
A cool wind blew, and her body began to knit itself back together and heal.
“Husband, my love, I was able to act quickly and rationally at a time of great chaos to snatch the embryo from the carnage of the female Neteru’s womb . . . the millennium slayer. If you let me survive, I know another way to raise Dante.”
“Continue,” his disembodied voice said as the Unnamed One disappeared into the shadows, considering her offer. His eyes glowed red, then went black within their slits. “Bargain with me, Lilith. You know that’s my favorite game.”
Hot tears coursed down her face as she tried to speak quickly to him in Dananu. “As long as Dante’s firstborn male from his original bloodline exists, all that he was can be summoned forth. It’s in the DNA, as always. There is only one other who can sit on Dante’s throne to replace all that Carlos Rivera had the potential to be. He is Rivera’s exact match, perhaps stronger.”
“The one you speak of is in a place that our realms cannot penetrate.” Her husband’s low, growling voice thundered quietly through the darkness.
“Your month of exacting torture against me has ripped the fabric between the dimensions,” she whispered, shivering and holding her arms around herself, braced against a possible sudden blow. “The subterranean disturbance has—”
“The one you speak of still resides within a realm that we cannot breach,” he said evenly. “Do not toy with me, Lilith, for if you fail, I will blot you from all existence . . . slowly . . . with excruciating horror.”
She shook her head. “Neither you nor I can breach that realm, but a living Neteru can. I’ve been around them and know their weaknesses.”
Again, her proposal was met by silence.
Panic-stricken and yet filled with hope, she pressed on. “The one we seek has the mark of banishment from the One that we never name, but a Neteru can bring him forward through the barrier if the veil between worlds is weakened. You just did that, my beloved. You weakened the veil as you raged beneath the earth. Torturing me was wise, dear husband, and most appreciated, for it created another opportunity that we may have missed.”
When her husband didn’t answer, Lilith’s voice became strident. “I know Rivera’s greatest weakness, his insecurities, because he sat in Dante’s throne. It’s still there; I can still taste that essence,” she said, speaking quickly and bargaining for her life. “Therefore, knowing his shortcomings, I also know the female Neteru’s greatest weakness as well, because they are linked at the heart chakra, they are soul mates. Fracture the soul mates and you will have your revenge, which will be no less catastrophic to mankind than what happened to Adam and Eve.”
The lack of response made her tone urgent as she continued to speak in a flurry of Dananu. “Husband, your righteous fury thinned the veil between worlds. Time stopped, a rip occurred; therefore I can siphon the past to the forefronts of their minds. I can delve into the darkest crevices of what they have forgotten, what has been forsaken. After that, all we have to do is sit back and watch as their love implodes, taking their team of Neteru Guardians with it. Unprecedented. The Covenant will wobble and fall. There will be no earthly protection for humankind. The past will feel like the present, the present like a faraway thing of the past. Let me work unhindered, beloved. You have seen my best efforts, and I have only failed you this once.”
A low, threatening chuckle filled the cavern.
She bowed and then fell to her knees, going prostrate in submission as tears of relief ran down her cheeks. “Let us turn our combined outrage to the more important matter at hand rather than my continued torture. . . . I know and respect that you have the Armageddon to concern yourself with as a priority to your magnificent master plan. I could assist you in creating chaos among the young Neteru so that distrust, dishonor, fury replace their love for one another. . . . And just like the fragile balance between dimensions, permanent fissures among them will allow one of them to call your grandson from his banishment. The female Neteru’s weakness is one of your most irresistible wiles, and it was encoded in your grandson’s natural lineage. All is not lost; his torture may even be greater than Dante’s. Through this new vessel, your firstborn can live again—if you allow me to correct the error I’ve made. It will even cause disarray among the Neteru Councils and thus the angels above them—something we’ve never been able to achieve. Imagine how strategic that could be so close to the big war.”
Silence made her swallow hard and shudder with anticipation, knowing his decision could go either way.
“You were always my favorite, my most shrewd bitch.”
She remained cowering on the pit floor as the slow clatter of hooves began a threatening circle around her body. Lilith closed her eyes, but dared not shield her body with her arm again. The situation had surpassed volatile; he could be thoroughly enraged that she’d devised a logical plan and he hadn’t—or he could be temporarily mollified. His power charred her skin as he moved around her, thinking, but she didn’t even breathe, much less cry out.
“I will install him on a dark throne,” she whispered to the bloodied floor, her eyes shut tightly. “I will lead him by the hand to Dante’s power vessel.”
“If you fail—”
“I will not fail you, will never fail you,” she murmured.
