by R. K. Ryals
"You did well," Marcas suddenly whispered in my ear, his voice soft. I shivered involuntarily. Marcas straightened.
"You heard the Naphil, Ember. Through your ears, your master and his mistress have heard her as well. She is to be unharmed. For she has claimed allegiance to all sides and yet to none. Therefore, Lilith will receive her audience but no prisoners. Take us forth," Marcas commanded.
The hound's head lowered. According to Lucas, his intellect was not strong. By the way he moved, his head swinging in confusion, I knew this to be true. His howl filled the air as he shook his massive tail before swinging his head toward the stairs. The other hounds followed, and we continued our trek down the black staircase into Hell. We were at the portal when I heard his voice. My father.
"Look to the light, Day."
I paused only briefly before stepping out into the void, my trust in Marcas as I closed my eyes and searched for my inner light. It filled me with feelings of security.
"Just keep looking to the light."
Chapter 7
Oftentimes, it is in moments when hope is lost that understanding is gained.
~Bezaliel~
During the descent, I held fast to my inner light, my eyes squeezed shut. It was a long way down, and I found myself concentrating, not on the creatures surrounding me, but on the reverberating line in my head, "Look to the light, Day." The light.
I had been so busy focusing on the bond, on the ring, on getting disconnected from Marcas that I had fought the link I shared, not with the Demon, but with my father. It wasn't until I was faced with a league of Hellhounds determined to take me prisoner that I had been overcome with truth.
I had always fought emotion, had always withdrawn rather than feel weak. But now, in a world where everyone was stronger than me, I had let myself be vulnerable out of fear. I wouldn't do that anymore. Fear bred caution, not weakness. And, as a Naphil, I needed strength.
According to everyone I'd encountered, the Nephilim were not meant to be sane creatures. They were aberrations. But not I. No, not me. I was the daughter of a descendent of Seth and an Angel. I was the daughter of an Exile, one of the fallen. And I was the bonded servant of a Demon with no obligation to serve. And since I was feared for this, I needed to start giving people a reason to be afraid.
Marcas had pointed out on our plane ride to Italy that a Demon bonded to an Angel was unheard of, unusual, an exception to the norm. Because of this, we had to figure out what it meant to be bound to each other, had to write the rules as we went along. Writing was something I knew well. Application was something I could learn.
I was not just a Naphil, a girl, a Demon's (supposed) servant, and Bezaliel's daughter. I was Dayton Marie Blainey. And Dayton Marie Blainey was defined by these descriptions, not ruled by them. Lilith wouldn't win.
"Time to play," I said, my voice hard, the harsh whisper almost echoing in the darkness, and I felt Marcas tense as my feet hit something solid.
I made myself open my eyes, wrapping my light around my vision as I forced my lids open. The sight that met me was an unexpected one.
"What . . ." I whispered.
It was a dark place, almost like an alley in the middle of the night, illuminated only by street lamps. But what I hadn't expected was how "un-fiery" it was. The solid ground we had landed on was a black, cobbled street with gothic-spire black buildings rising on each side. It reminded me eerily of an un-colored comic book sketch of Britain during the era of Jack the Ripper.
"It was a favorite time period for her," Lucas said as he stepped up next to me. I could hear the Hellhounds panting around us, and I tried to ignore the smell as I peered up at the fallen Angel. Realization dawned on me.
"You can read my mind, can't you?" I asked. He nodded.
"Certain Angels have the ability. Seraphim are one."
I groaned inwardly. While discovering new creatures and powers was no longer as "shock-worthy" as it used to be, this particular discovery had me more than a little cross. This meant Sophia shared the ability.
"I can teach you to block," Lucas offered, his voice tinged with humor. I raised a brow.
"That would be nice."
There were thoughts I definitely didn't want Sophia privy too. And it made me paranoid. How much of myself had I already exposed to the two Seraphim? Considering I was supposed to be as "open as a book," did it even matter?
I looked up at Marcas and watched as his eyes scanned the area, his face hard. I followed his gaze a moment before looking back at his face.
"Is this Hell?"
My tone was uncertain. While the black color scheme seemed an appropriate match for so dark a place, it wasn't what I had always been warned Hell would be like. Marcas looked down, his eyes catching mine.
"This is just one layer, Blainey. Most humans are only taught the dangers of the pits, the eternal fire that damnation promises."
"Oh. . . Well, this is good then, right? They didn't take us there at least."
Marcas shook his head slightly, his gaze moving back to the cobbled streets.
"Oh, this is worse, Blainey. With the fires you know what to expect. Here . . ."
"You don't," a giddy voice finished as the tall figure of a black-haired, pale woman moved gracefully out of the shadows. A red dress clung to her figure, her lips the same hue as the fabric. She clapped softly as she approached us, her eyes glowing briefly when she looked my way. She was Snow White's evil twin sister. And I was beginning to know her well.
"Mother," Marcas greeted.
Sophia moved behind us, her body more radiant than usual, her eyes shuttered. Was she afraid? I know my heart was beating three times faster than it should be, but I was determined not to let it show.
Lilith grinned, her teeth pointed one moment then human-smooth as she glided up to her son. Her eyes seemed to twinkle as she reached out to smooth Marcas' ripped shirt, her brows rising at the sight of the dried blood and dirt covering his exposed skin.
"Appearance is everything. Haven't I taught you that?" she admonished as the shirt mended itself magically beneath Lilith's smooth hands, the dirt and blood on Marcas' body dissolving as she stepped away.
"That's better."
I fumed. If I had to be standing here under her scrutiny, couldn't she at least clean me up a little as well? Now that Marcas was clean, I felt like the only hobo in the group. It made me stand out, which in all honesty, was probably her intention anyway.
Lilith glanced from Marcas to Sophia and me, her gaze sweeping before finally landing back on Marcas. She laughed.
"Amazing, your choice in women, son."
Marcas' eyes went red.
"Amazing, your choice to confront me, Mother."
I stared as they faced each other, a darker threat apparent behind the spoken words. Sophia and Lucas seemed engrossed, the underlying meaning to the argument more obvious to them than it would be to me. I chose to concentrate on their features rather than their words. Was I the only one freaked out by the fact that Lilith looked almost the same age as Marcas? I shuddered.
Marcas' veiled comment seemed to disturb the female Demon, and Lilith's eyes narrowed, her unfaltering grin disconcerting as she moved away from her son to circle Sophia. The stoic Angel, previously engrossed by the mother/son pair now stood tall and still, her eyes diverted. I didn't blame her. The hatred the female Demon felt for the Angel was obvious, not only in the way she stalked her now, but in the reddened hue her eyes adopted, by the brief glimpses of sharpened teeth.
"You dare enter my domain, Angel? After everything you have cost me?"
Sophia took a deep breath, her gaze riveted now on Marcas' back. If she was silently pleading for his help, he wasn't getting the message.
"I am here now under Heaven's protection," Sophia finally answered, her gaze moving to the floor. Lilith laughed.
"And you think I care whose protection you are under?"
Sophia clenched a fist against her white dress, her head shaking.
"No.
But I think you care about my decision to leave your son, to give you the chance to control him once again," Sophia countered.
Lilith bowed her head slightly. A gesture of acquiescence? Yeah, right. I had a feeling Lilith was just getting started.
The Demon considered Sophia a moment before moving away from the Angel and gliding my way. I tensed. Sophia might understand the subtleties of dealing with creatures from Hell, but I was completely and utterly uneducated.
"Naphil," Lilith breathed, her breath hot on my cheek as she pressed close. I stared at her, my gaze strong. I'm sure this was my first mistake, not diverting my eyes. But I was more fearful of missing an attack than causing more wrath. Wrath she had aplenty. A little more couldn't hurt.
"Lilith," I said, my voice stronger than I expected.
I recognized the sarcasm in my own tone, and knew I was leaning on it to mask my nervousness. This always bit me in the ass. Mistake number two: I had addressed her in an impersonal manner.
Lilith's eyes darkened, and I knew I'd surprised her. Good job, Blainey. Give her another reason to want you dead.
"Are you taunting me, Naphil?" she asked.
I tracked her with my eyes, her shifting movements playing with my vision. She didn't like the fact that I was watching her.
"Why would I do that?" I asked in return.
She stopped moving, her gaze penetrating as she glowered at me, and I began to realize as I fell into the depths of her reddened pupils why Sophia kept her eyes lowered. Lilith's eyes were mesmerizing, promising temptation that was hard to turn down. I began to hear whispering in my head, voices that enticed me with things I'd always wanted.
"I can give you a real family. I can bring your mother and your sister back. I can send your friends safely home. I could give you the world, Dayton. You would never go hungry, sweets every day. You would have a home. You would have love."
Her voice was everywhere. My heart clenched with the promises of family and of love, my stomach growled with the promise of food, and my palms sweated with the desire to beg her for my friends' safety.
She's playing with you, I told myself, my mind still battling with the need to give in. It was no wonder so many people sold their souls to the devil. I could close my eyes, could shut her out, but I refused to do it. I'd be backing down, and she'd see that as a bigger weakness.
"You will cease with the mind games," another voice ordered, and I knew it was Marcas.
Lilith's presence left me as fast as she had entered, her eyes darkening as she turned to her son. The contact between us was broken, and I almost went limp with the depth of despair I felt at her absence. She had given me hope with her temptations, and in one swift movement, had taken it away. My mind battled to stay in control.
"You protect her. Why, son? Have you fallen on your knees before human weakness once more? Have you taken her as a lover?"
I shook my head as Lilith's accusing tone roared around us, my brain busy reminding itself that my mother was gone, my father an absentee fallen Angel, my sister under the control of an insane Demon and fanatic religious group, and my friends in Italy, their fates unknown. And there was nothing I could do about it.
"Accepting what she promised would only dirty your mother's memory, would ensure your damnation, would take away what your friends sacrificed for you," Lucas' voice suddenly said in my head, and I felt a tear escape the corner of my eye. He was right.
"Your accusations are endearing, mother," Marcas answered Lilith, his obvious avoidance of her question an insult to her authority. Lilith snarled.
"You are my creation, son. I brought you into this world. Your power is unbelievable. Lucifer could use you. You could sit on his right side. And yet, you refuse me."
Her eyes moved my way, and I fought not to look away. She stepped forward, and with a swiftness no human could manage, lifted my chin with a pointed claw. I cringed.
"You, Naphil, are an imposition."
I gritted my teeth against the pressure of her nail against my skin.
"An imposition your son, Damon, caused," I said.
A corner of Lilith's mouth lifted.
"And you think I'd punish him, my own flesh and blood, rather than the object of his obsession. Removing you would release both of my sons, one from bondage, the other from trying to carry out crazy ideas. It's that simple."
I shook my head.
"And yet, you haven't killed me. Why is that?"
The barb hit its mark, and I felt Lucas move up slightly from behind me. I was attacking a very powerful Demon with words. It was a folly that could get me killed. But I could die anyway. Why fake niceties? I knew Lilith hadn't killed me because her son was bound to me. Being part Angel, the bond was different. No one knew what my death would do to him. Her plan now lay in getting Marcas to take my soul. By taking it, we were still bound but I would be destroyed physically.
"You think his mercy protects you?" Lilith asked sourly.
I was on a roll now. Mistake number three: making promises I couldn't keep.
"I think I could protect myself."
I heard Sophia gasp from behind me, my bold words weak because I didn't have enough knowledge of my power to promise something that brash. But I wasn't the daughter of a fallen Angel for nothing. Stubbornness had been bred into me. Lilith laughed.
"You entertain me, Naphil. All of that passion. Are you my son's lover?"
I refused to look Marcas' way, my cheeks red despite my desire not to blush. It was an intimate question.
"Would it matter if I were?" I asked.
Lilith watched the two of us, her son and I, and she smiled.
"I've heard rumors," she mumbled, and I knew she meant the incident at the headquarters of the S.O.S, the moment when a member of the group had walked in on Marcas and I, our shirts removed, the bed a mess. Did Marcas want his mother to believe we were lovers? Or had he only wanted to fool Damon?
"Let me be more direct, Naphil. Have you had sex with my son?" Lilith asked.
Her voice was hard, her eyes glued to mine. Whispers infiltrated my head again, this time with promises of torture and death. These weren't feelings of love. Hatred I could fight against. And, unlike Sophia, I didn't want Marcas to step in. Having him come to my rescue would only give Lilith more reason to be cruel.
"I haven't known your son long," I said slowly, biding my time.
"Demons don't need long. Being with us is a temptation many cannot fight," Lilith pointed out. Of course. Demons would be masters of lust and passion. Never love. She wouldn't believe I could resist him.
Lilith began to pace slowly, her dress shimmering beautifully despite the dark surroundings.
"There's your answer then," I remarked.
I wasn't correcting what she already assumed. Lilith's eyes went blood red. With her teeth bared, she backed away. My final mistake: I wouldn't give her a direct answer.
"You push me too far. All of you!"
She pointed from me to Marcas.
"Let's test this bond," she said before walking over to her son. "Let's find out what your little Naphil is capable of. There is one way I could kill her without harming you."
Her words made shivers dance up and down my spine.
"Then, by all means . . ." Marcas growled.
Lilith clapped her hands, the gesture both giddy and commanding.
"Take her to the pits!" Lilith ordered. My whole body went numb. She couldn't possibly mean what I thought she meant!
Two Hellhounds skulked from out of the shadows of a black-stone building and headed in my direction. No!
"Speechless, I see," Lilith cackled. "Let's see just how well you can protect yourself, Naphil."
The pits? The fiery lakes of damnation. Fear overcame me, and I looked to Marcas for the first time since arriving in Hell. He wouldn't let her do this! He couldn't!
"Marcas?" I whispered. He didn't look at me. If anything, he seemed to be working to avoid my gaze. The pain of his denial was stronger than it should b
e. I felt like I had swallowed a ton of bricks.
The Hellhounds reached me, and I shrieked without meaning to. Their snouts nudged me, and I gagged as their awful smell swamped me, my eyes widening when one of them grazed me with its teeth.
"Careful, Brim," Lilith commanded. "I want her fully alive and aware."
Lilith looked my way.
"You'll burn in a heat so strong you'll want to die, but won't be able to. And yet, your bonded mate here," she paused to indicate Marcas, "won't feel a thing because fire is the one thing that can't destroy a Demon."
I choked on a sob, the Hellhounds dragging me now by my hair. The strength from before drained from me, and I fought to hold onto it. My only relief, Marcas, was gone. I stopped fighting the hounds and walked because there was nothing left I could do. Why hadn't Marcas intervened?
"Because he knows what you are capable of," Lucas' voice said in my head.
I looked toward the fallen Angel.
"Help me," I begged him.
He just shook his head.
"Remember what you are, Day. Walk into the flame."
It was all Lucas said as the two beasts flanking me growled before shoving me hard. I stumbled and recovered, my gait stronger. A final glance at the group behind me revealed a sober Sophia, a confident Lucas, and an unreadable Marcas. Why wouldn't they intervene?
"Remember what you are, Day. Walk into the flame."
What did that mean? The group faded from sight as the hounds stepped into the shadows, pulling me along with them. The ground opened up, and we glided on nothingness. I felt my fear of heights raise its ugly head, but even if the world around and beneath me resembled a pitch black hole, the air we walked on was firm. I sucked it up.
"Remember what you are, Day."
I was an Angel, I was a descendant of Seth, and I was bound to a Demon. I grasped my inner light, and I felt its energy work to calm me. Look to the light. I yanked on it, and I felt the familiar pain of tugging on it too hard. For once, however, the light moved with me, allowing me to take what I needed from it without feeling like I had done too much, used too much.
