by Sunny
"What did you do?" I asked the guy in the suit.
He took a moment to push himself onto his knees. "What do you mean, what did I do?"
"We have a death-row inmate and a gang member who died in a shoot-out, if I'm not mistaken."
Tattoo guy nodded confirmation.
"You don't seem particularly surprised to find yourself in this human version of Hell," I noted.
"Human version?" the older man said with lifted brows.
"Just answer the question. You didn't, by any chance, happen to steal millions of dollars from your stockholders or something like that, did you?"
He stared at me with eyes that were suddenly hard and shrewd. "Something like that."
His answer made my heart sink.
Sinners. We were all sinners here.
Like an eerie reflection of my thoughts, Mr. Corporate Fraud asked, "And you? What was your sin?"
"Me?" I reflected over my life, the violence of it. "I killed three men."
"And your ability to change your body and appearance like that? Become two different women?"
"I tried to murder another woman. Ended up possessing her inside of me instead."
Making the sign of the cross, the young gang member muttered in Spanish, "La Madre de Dios nos ayuda" Mother of God help us.
Unfortunately, it looked like it was too late for that.
My hand lifted to the necklace given to me by my demon mate.
Halcyon, where are you? And where in heaven or Hell am I?
CHAPTER THREE
As the last burgundy rays of Rubera, Hell's third moon, disappeared over the horizon and utter and complete darkness blanketed the realm, loud poppers and brilliant sparklers whistled across the sky, lighting it up brilliantly with noise and festivity. It was the demons' way of celebrating Aequus Nox, equal night, which had a far more sinister meaning here. The display of light and noise was to scare away the cursed inhabitants of NetherHell during the time when the walls between the realms dangerously thinned. The custom was first started, no doubt, as a way to make the people feel better, safer. And as an excuse for merriment in a realm that was not often very merry.
As a device for preventing the unclean dead and their twisted creatures from crossing into Hell, it was as effective as throwing a handful of water at a raging fire and hoping to put it out. In other words, not very effective. Thankfully other means ensured their safety. But as a reason to gather and make happy, it served that purpose quite well, though you wouldn't know it from the two dour demons standing next to him. One was among the oldest of their kind — Blaec, his father, the High Lord of Hell whose name meant darkness. His father's face was almost a mirror reflection of Halcyon's own but for the silver streaking his temples, and the darker hue of his skin, bronze instead of gold. Others would have thought that Blaec personified his name quite well from the somber, morose expression on his face, but they would have been wrong. Just the fact that his father was standing there instead of sleeping the days and nights away indicated that he was actually quite chipper.
On Halcyon's other side stood one of their newest demons, Gryphon, whose expression of grimness matched that of his father's. It was strange knowing someone when they had been alive, and then knowing them as a demon dead inhabitant, subject now to his rule in this realm — though you would never have guessed that to be the case with this newest citizen of Hell.
Halcyon turned to face the new demon whose milky white skin was only just beginning to take on a light tan in the hotter clime of Hell, marking his newly transitioned demon state. "Aren't you glad that I insisted you come? Almost like the Fourth of July, isn't it?"
"Bugger off," Gryphon said with no change of expression, making the demon guards attending them scowl, a frightening sight to most. Gryphon hardly took note of it.
Halcyon smiled. "Shouldn't that be — 'Bugger off, my lord'?"
"Bugger off, my lord."
Halcyon's smile slipped away. "You've had a month to brood and come to terms with your loss." And what a loss it had been. Not just of life, but of newfound love and the woman he had loved and served — Mona Lisa, his Queen.
Different realms weren't the only things that separated them. Two other things kept them apart: Gryphon's precarious control of his new demon bloodlust, and his ability to cross the portal back into the living realm. Only the older, more powerful demons risked stepping into the portals. Demons who were too weak — and you could not tell until after you had stepped inside the damn portal — were simply incinerated, extinguished, never seen again.
The latter was a barrier only in Gryphon's mind. It could have been easily overcome by simply allowing Mona Lisa to venture down into Hell. But Gryphon did not want his lady love stepping one dainty foot into Hell — even though that dainty foot had indeed done just that, twice already. The first time, Mona Lisa had been dragged down against her will by a rogue demon. The second time had been by her own choice, bringing Halcyon back after he was severely injured and weakened in the living realm. That Mona Lisa was not now in Hell was only because Halcyon and his father had thought it best to give Gryphon time to adjust to his new existence as a demon, and to allow him time to gain control of his new and dangerous hunger before allowing Mona Lisa to see him again.
In that regard, Gryphon had made much progress. He had attained control of his bloodthirst, a feat that took some demons more than a year to attain instead of just one month. But then, Gryphon had been stronger, more powerful than most other warriors. He had been a Warrior Lord, one of the few ever to attain such status.
Sweat dampened Gryphon's face now as he gazed down from the balcony to the revelry of the city below. The heady scent of the blood wine that all were imbibing freely floated up to him. A nearer and even more tantalizing scent of blood came from the chalice Gryphon held in his hand with seeming ease. A chalice he had held for the last ten minutes and not yet tasted. Only when all others in the room had drunk did he finally raise the cup to his lips, not gulping it down as most new demons would have done after having been teased so mercilessly by the scent of blood, but in carefully measured sips.
The control cost Gryphon. Was visible in the fine tremors shaking his hand. But it made a point — that he was in control of his hunger. That it did not control him. It was a point, however, that all but Gryphon had conceded over a fortnight ago. Now it was simply Gryphon's own stubbornness that kept Mona Lisa away.
When Halcyon had announced several days ago that enough time had passed to safely allow her to pay him a visit, Gryphon had replied, "I do not wish to see her ever again. I am demon dead now. My other life died when I died." He was being stupid, stubborn, and noble, of course, trying to keep her away from Hell and its bloodthirsty inhabitants, of which he was now one.
When Halcyon had tried to argue, Gryphon's calm veneer had broken, and he had lunged at his prince, sharp fangs bared. "When I was alive — beating heart, living flesh — I did not trust you, Halcyon. Did not trust a demon. Now that I have become demon dead, I know how very true my instincts were. We are dangerous. Violence is our nature. Control is learned, not natural. I do not want her anywhere near me — or you."
Halcyon had gently broken free of Gryphon's grip. "It is true. Our demon hunger is raw, and our nature more volatile. Violence comes more easily to us — even more to the newly dead whose rage over their loss of life is still so fresh. But that tendency can be controlled, just as you have controlled your bloodlust, especially around someone you love."
"You're wrong," Gryphon said. "My control would be even more fragile around someone I loved. I am dead, no longer a part of her life. Tell her… tell her to forget me." But even as he had grated out the words, his hand had lifted to the medallion necklace he wore. It wasn't just a symbol of what he once was, a Warrior Lord, it was also his last connection to Mona Lisa — what she had pressed into the High Lord's hand and had him bring back to Gryphon.
Gryphon fingered it much the way Halcyon fingered the silver ring he wore ar
ound his neck. His bonding ring. Strung on a chain, the ring was hidden beneath Halcyon's shirt, kept close to his non-beating heart. It was forged from the same silver used to craft Mona Lisa's necklace, which had his likeness engraved upon it. The symbols carved along the side denoted what she was to him, his royal consort, something he had not told Gryphon or made known to his people yet. Only his father knew.
It put Halcyon in a dilemma: How to tell Gryphon that his noble intentions were for naught. That Mona Lisa was already intricately involved with demons. Had become one. in part, herself. That she had sucked down Mona Louisa's demon-tainted essence into herself while trying to avenge Gryphon's death, and that it now dwelt in her, making her something that not many knew was possible — Damanten demon living.
Time. Halcyon had decided to grant both of them that. And he had watched Gryphon and Mona Lisa separately come to terms with their new and more volatile natures. Watched both of them exert that essential control over their new hungers, control that ensured their survival. Without it, they would have had to be destroyed. And he would have had to be the one to do so.
Halcyon watched the other demon now as he carefully sipped the blood wine. Watched barely visible fine tremors shake Gryphon's elegant hand as he swallowed down the blood that his demon body so desperately craved. And was proud and relieved and unbearably grateful for that exhibited control.
Suddenly Halcyon felt something change, alter. As he was surrounded by the noise of his people and the loud popping display of the lightworks, he felt his bonding ring grow cold against his warm demon flesh. The ring was not only composed of silver but of rare and prized stones from their mother planet. Two precious pebbles had been crushed and mixed with the silver ore of both ring and necklace. The mystical properties of those stones linked bonded mates. That, and Halcyon's own blood that resided in Mona Lisa, strengthening their link, allowed him to sense her, to feel her living warmth in his ring even when he was down in Hell. Only now, that sense of connection, that sense of her, was gone.
Terrible foreboding quaked through him. "Something's wrong," he said, his eyes changing to the color of churning blood, his fangs lengthening into lethal points.
Seeing their prince's response, the demon guards glanced around on heightened alert, seeking for threat, danger.
"What is it?" Blaec demanded.
Halcyon turned to his father, his gaze turned inward. "I don't feel her anymore."
"Feel who?" Gryphon asked.
"Mona Lisa," Halcyon said, and started to walk away.
Gryphon exploded, grabbing Halcyon by his shirt, his own fangs lengthening, sharpening, his own eyes burning with fury and fear. "How can you sense her, and why?" he growled.
With a mere thought, a small mental push, Halcyon sent the other demon flying away from him to slam up against the wall. Held him there by his will. Tearing his shirt open, Halcyon revealed the silver ring. "We are bonded. She is my mate. Something's wrong," he said with no time or care for finesse or tact. He whirled to face his father. "I must go."
"Then go," Blaec said. "I will oversee things here — and explain things to Gryphon."
Blaec's hand gripped Halcyon's shoulder, and the calm waves of the High Lord's control helped to steady Halcyon.
"I will return when I can," Halcyon said.
"Journey safe, journey sound. And journey home once more," Blaec said — ritual words of farewell to demon guardians before they crossed the portals. Then he uttered something more. "Be well."
Words that Halcyon could not respond to as he walked away. Because if anything had happened to his mate, he would be far from well.
CHAPTER FOUR
Halcyon materialized in the business district of New Orleans. It was quiet here, just past the midnight hour, the stroke of time that split night from day. All slept or partied elsewhere. He walked out of the alleyway, and moved with inhuman speed closer to where people gathered. As he neared the French Quarter, he slowed and became visible once more. His mental compulsion more than his lifted hand made a passing cab screech to a halt.
The hour it took to drive to Belle Vista stretched hideously long. Only now, as he journeyed by means other than his own power, did Halcyon open up his senses and cast them wide, searching for that pull of like to like, that distinct and thrilling recognition of blood. His blood. Always before, he had sensed it, sensed her — Mona Lisa. Only now there was no answering echo in return. Only emptiness. A chilling void.
Not here answered back the silence.
He searched farther, trembling as he stretched his senses to their limits. Nothing there. Nothing that he could detect anywhere in this realm.
He arrived into chaos at Belle Vista. He sensed it, heard it in the quickened heartbeats stirring within, and quickly sent the cab driver on his way.
"Halcyon." Amber strode down the front steps, a giant of a man. Their love for the same woman bound them in harmony now, in this time of crisis. Naked on Amber's normally impassive face was worry. Panic, even.
"What happened, Amber?" Technically it was "Warrior Lord Amber," as denoted by the gleaming medallion necklace he wore, identical to the one around Gryphon's neck. Gryphon and Amber, one dark and beautiful like a fallen angel, the other a massive brute of a warrior, rugged of face, powerful of body. They had been Mona Lisa's first two lovers, and were wildly distrustful of him with the natural fear of the living for the dead. All that fell away now as the big warrior rushed down to him.
"She's gone," Amber said.
Even though Halcyon knew that — knew it in his bones, in the unanswered echo of his blood — still the words chilled him.
"Is she down in Hell? Is that what you've come to tell us?" Then more ominously, as the thought occurred to Amber, "Or was that black light your doing?"
"Black light?" Chilling coldness swept through Halcyon's being, must have been reflected in his face, because Amber's angry aggression collapsed. "What is it? You know what's happened to her."
He had an inkling, a dreadful one. "Tell me what occurred tonight," Halcyon commanded as Amber urged him inside where they were quickly joined by the others. Her family. Mona Lisa had called them, though only one was related to her by blood. The rest were bound to her by ties of the heart — a family in which she'd generously included Halcyon.
"Never mind," Dontaine muttered into the phone, catching sight of him. "Halcyon's here." He hung up and turned to face them, a man tall, handsomely bright. As fair as Gryphon was dark. And as equally jealous and distrustful of Halcyon as Gryphon had been — until their last encounter. Only Dontaine, among Mona Lisas people, knew of the demon essence that had been slowly darkening her. In the order of love — of lovers — he was Mona Lisa's fourth, after Halcyon.
"My lord," Dontaine greeted now. Polite, respectful, tensely expectant.
They all looked to him, the people who loved her: her brother, Thaddeus; the other two Mixed Bloods, Jamie and his sister, Tersa; Rosemary, their mother; and the other warriors sworn to her. Aquila, Tomas, and Chami. They all looked to him for answers. But he needed some himself first.
"Tell me what happened," Halcyon said in quiet command.
"We were Basking," said Chami. He was boyishly lean, deceptively young in appearance. With violet eyes and curly brown hair, he looked more like a graduate student than the accomplished killer he was. "Light filled her, renewed us — all normal. Then this veil of darkness swept across the moon, covering it. Black light pulsed down, traveling through the rays of moonlight, and struck Mona Lisa. It was like this giant hand of darkness closed around her and swallowed her up. She was gone, just like that."
"We searched," said Aquila, continuing the tale. A former rogue bandit, he was a bird of prey, an eagle in his other form. "I searched with all the others who could take to the sky on wings. Dontaine and Amber searched the grounds with the other guards, shifted into their animal forms. There was no scent. No trace of her. No trail to follow."
"I called High Court and was on the phone with Lord T
horane," said Dontaine, "trying to see if there was any way of contacting you, when you showed up. How did you know to come?"
"She is my mate," Halcyon said. "We are bound together now." In more ways than many of them knew. "I came because I no longer sense her."
"Could my sister be down in Hell?" Thaddeus said, asking the question innocently without truly understanding what he asked.
"No," Halcyon said, shaking his head. "I would have sensed her if she were in my realm. She is not there, just as she is not here in this realm."
"What if she's transitioning?" asked Dontaine, and he, unlike Thaddeus, was fully aware of what he asked. "Could you have missed her while traveling through the portal?"
"If she was in Hell now, I would feel her, but I do not. If she was making the transition, it would have occurred by now."
Thaddeus's young face paled as he finally realized what they were discussing: whether Mona Lisa had died and become demon dead. "Maybe your bond, your sensing of her, changed if she… if she died. Maybe she's down in your realm and you just don't know it."
"I wish, I truly wish that were the case," Halcyon said gently to Thaddeus, a boy who looked years younger than his age of seventeen. He had the same dark exotic eyes as his sister. "If she were a demon now, my awareness of her would be even stronger. I'm sorry, Thaddeus."
"So you think she is just no more?" Tersa asked. A quiet girl in her early twenties, she had a birdlike delicacy to her, and was normally shy and withdrawn. That she had spoken up showed her deep concern. What she asked put into words what others there feared, what he feared.
When the Monère died, those who where strong enough became demon dead and existed in Hell for as long as their psychic power sustained them. Those unable to make the transition simply faded away into the darkness. Before, Mona Lisa had more than enough mental strength to make the jump. But that was before she had become demon living. Halcyon's greatest fear coming here had been that — that she had died and was no more. Now, hearing their tale, he found himself filled with an even more horrible consideration, a possibility that hadn't even occurred to him before.
