When Haven looked down the line of food, bacon practically reached out to her. Grabbing a plate, she made herself walk slowly down the buffet. She picked some ham, wonderfully yellow scrambled eggs, and finally that all too delicious pork, bacon. It had been cooked to a tender savory morsel and Haven could barely wait to sit down with it. She slipped a piece into her mouth and munched it down as she made her way to the couch. Stopping herself mid-swallow, remembering last night...would the food always be spelled, or was it just for newcomers? She didn't taste the same seasonings in the bacon as she had last night. She took a long hard look at Tyson and didn't suddenly feel the need to revere him. She ventured another bite of the bacon. She had to eat, right? If it were spelled or poisoned or whatever, obviously it didn't last long, and Haven was sure Tyson didn't want her dead. Yet.
"So..." she said in between bites. "Where is everyone?"
"Most are out tending to daily chores or errands. We live normal lives here. You slept later than most of us, hence me coming to your room."
"Do I have to live here? Where is here, anyway?" Haven looked around the room. The dark carpet offset the tarnished brown walls. There was a fireplace with a fake fire glowing in it. Candles and crosses sat along the mantle. Several paintings of angels and cherubs hung on the wall with gaudy yellow wallpaper behind them. It wasn't a very pretty room, but it was comfortable and non-threatening.
Tyson smiled and it reached up, touching the corner of his eyes. Genuine. "A more appropriate room will be made up for you, sweets. You have nothing to worry about with me here. Our holy mission is to help all in the compound find truth and life without unnaturals."
Haven considered asking about her sac and bird, but her gut told her he would know she wasn't under his influence if she did. So she filled her mouth with coffee instead and tried to ignore his refusal to answer where "here" was. Instead, she tried to remember everything from the night before. The pounding behind her eyes increased each time she tried to access the events of last night after she ate, so she let it go for a bit. The headache had to stop eventually, and then she'd focus her attention on the night before.
"Will I have a specific job? I mean, other than tracking things as I did for DAIS? What do I tell them about the bird?"
Tyson's head cocked to the side and Haven knew she had made a mistake, though she couldn't figure out what it was. The mention of DAIS?
"What bird, Haven?"
So that was her mistake. Well, no use playing along with his game. "The bird I came in with, and my L-sac. You agreed to give it to me yesterday, then we ate…hey, you even got me clothes." Haven pulled at the long shirt covering her, trying to cover any kind of track that she knew she had been drugged at all.
Tyson's' eyes hardened. "Right, I did say that, didn't I? But I distinctly remember you wanting to join us. In fact, you did join us, and we share our things here so what is yours belongs to all Celests, and what is ours also belongs to you." He smiled and stood, putting his hands behind his back.
"Right. About my room then? Do I have to stay in this shirt all day, or is it possible for someone to share some clothes with me? There's a bit of a draft, Sir." Haven set her cup down.
"Of course, sweets. Let's get you set up, shall we? A room and such. Don't you worry, we'll get you set up and you'll see things our way in no time at all. There's always so much to do and soon you'll be putting in your share of the work." He turned and held his elbow out to her, as if he were a true gentlemen, and Haven resisted the desire to snort at him. Standing to take his arm, she gave him a wide smile and walked with him out of the room and into a long sunlit hallway. She squinted, wishing the aspirin would kick in already.
There were doors off to the right and windows to the left. So much light it made her warm inside, but underneath that warmth, a chill rose. Her gut told her going with him would be a terrible idea. But she needed the sac and bird before she could leave, and the only way she would get anywhere close to either would be to play along and hail the mighty Tyson. Mighty indeed. He seemed more and more like a spoiled brat who wanted people to love him.
Tyson placed a warm hand over hers and walked her all the way to the other end of the hall, where a solid steel door opened before her on a set of spiraling stairs leading down. Haven's heart thumped rapidly. She should not walk down those steps. Tyson took a step forward and she inched along with him, taking her time, using her bare feet as an excuse to step slow and careful. Her gut told her she wouldn't be coming back up. Each step became cooler and cooler as they made their way down the dimly-lit stairs. A few torches hung on the wall as they continued down.
"Did you know the Celests emerged because holy angels needed people here to help maintain the balance for humans and God? Demons and unnaturals were running amok, playing in the lands of our Father, destroying what wasn't theirs, tainting it with magic."
"No, Sir."
"Angels bestowed powers on Henry Celest, the very first of us to join Heaven's forces in the fight against those magical and unnatural. Henry Celest drove back more demons and unnaturals than any other human to walk this earth, all in the name of God and Heaven. He is so renowned through our colonies that each camp has an image of the great holy man deep in the depths of their main buildings. Do you know why we would place such a revered image so deep underground?"
Haven shook her head as they rounded another part of the spiraling stairway. Not really wanting to know, she felt he would tell her anyway. It seemed to take forever, circling further and further to what Haven was sure would be something very unfriendly. There were no noises other than Tyson's voice. So perhaps she wasn't going to be fed to dogs. What's the worst that could happen? He could trap her and kill her, though she sensed he didn't want her dead. He wished for her to agree with him, to see his side of it.
"To keep the unholy from taking us below. Hell my dear. And its spawn." Tyson patted her hand as they continued further down. "Do you know what killed Henry, Haven?"
The question had to be rhetorical, because there was no way for her to know that unless she was a part of the following, a true believer. Last night, Tyson believed she would be. The magic used had to have been very strong, as DAIS trained her and conditioned her for poisons, spells, curses and the like. How else would she capture unnaturals if they could just spell their way past her? Tyson didn't know as much as he thought he did about DAIS and snares. Though that seemed to work in her favor last night: she was still living and breathing. Thank God for tiny favors. They reached the last step and before her were rows of dug out rooms. It was a dungeon. Tyson's smile faded as they stopped. He pulled her close to him.
"Nothing..." he said, and flung her toward the middle of the dungeon area. The ground was soft and cool, but so dry. Dust flung up, causing her lungs to spasm, and she coughed. When she found her balance again, she stood face to face with a giant painted picture that looked over all the rooms in the dungeon. The man in the picture looked just like Tyson.
Chapter Eleven
"Desiderus, what am I to do with this blithering fool? He whines. He sniffles, he pouts. I am not amused and I'm half tempted to kill the human. Look at him. How do I use this? I've lost my appetite to create a beast from him."
Ba'al had summoned him and before Desiderus even arrived in his full capacity, his king was going on and on about a human. Desiderus spotted Jeremy hunkering down in the corner of a cage. Tears streaked the male's dirty face. His hair was knotted up and jutting in different directions. The black bars of the cage would burn if they touched skin, even a demon's, if Ba'al wished it. Sweat dripped off the man's brow and his damp hair clung to him. His clothes were singed and snot slipped from his nose. This was no man. But he was the brother of the female Desiderus had made a bargain with. Ba'al couldn't kill Jeremy. Not yet anyway.
"My king, might I suggest holding off on killing him? True, he is unworthy of your gifts, but he could be of some use for us yet." Desiderus placed his hands behind his back and turned his gaze to Ba'al. He'd long ago become ac
customed to the three different faces of the demon king.
"Have you been planning again? To what do I owe the pleasure of one of your games? A succubus perhaps? Oh, I haven't had one of those around here in a long time." Ba'al licked the lips of his human face and his catlike ears twitched.
"What I offer is a possibility. This worthless human's sister is more worthy of your gifts. She is strong, willful, and a good fighter. She tried to blow my head off with a gun, silly female."
"You like this one. Shows promise, does she?" Ba'al's cat eyes turned to him, sensing a moment of vulnerability. Desiderus crushed it inside him, burying it as deep down as he could muster. 'Like' was a strong word, but he was beginning to enjoy some of her antics. She challenged him, and very few mortals could. Not that he wished his king to know the depths to which she was getting to him.
"She would make a great addition to the succubae. Plus we'd have one in-house."
Ba'al looked over at Jeremy. "A trade? This sniveling fool for the female then, Desiderus?"
"That is my game," Desiderus said. True, he wanted her, but could he share her with his king. He wasn't a jealous creature. Decidedly, he could share so long as she stayed bound to him for eternity. He tried to imagine Haven as succubae. Those lovely curves he had the pleasure of viewing earlier tonight would look wonderful primped in a slinky purple.
"Bring her to me and I will see her worth. For now, get this...this...leech from my sight. Thank Desiderus human, for left to my own devices I'd be peeling off your flesh to feed to my inferno creatures."
Desiderus stepped on a stone, and the cage trapping Jeremy began to lower.
"No! Pl...Please..." Sobs escaped him. "Not back into the dark!" Jeremy's hand reached for the bar, snapping back when it sizzled against the heat. The human male cried out all the way down. His screams echoed off the lower chamber. Desiderus tried to understand the fear of the dark. Blackness, night, such a beautiful image. Nothing so harsh as light. It protected demons. The dark remained Desiderus's favorite part of any day. Night was freedom, the dark a friend. How could there be a fear?
"The female has made a deal with me for the release of her brother, my king." Desiderus took a seat below his king's chair.
"Go on."
"To give herself to me for the release of her brother. In essence, she would allow me to use her as I see fit for a limited time. There is a hitch though, so perhaps you could lend a hand."
The attention of all three of Ba'al's faces rested on Desiderus. He swallowed at the intensity of his king. Ba'al was where nightmares came from, the living nightmare of mankind, should he choose to cast a gaze directly upon them. At least that's what he told his newborn demons. Though Ba'al rarely had anything to do with mankind as a whole. He preferred to play with humans on a one-to-one level. Ba'al wanted power, sought it out like an addiction. Which is how demons came to be. Ba'al created Desiderus, and all those below the king, working off their tainted souls. Sinners of the worst kind, with souls so dark he could feed on them for centuries.
Desiderus had made a name for himself within the creations. He sought power as well, but was always cautious, always aware of his king's abilities. No doubt Ba'al could tear a demon apart with a snap of his fingers, just as he created the demon within. It took a century to show Ba'al he could trust him. As Desiderus held his king's gaze, he stilled his thoughts of the female he desired. If his king wanted her, who was he to tell him otherwise? And if he refused to make her succubae, Desiderus had no trouble using her in human form. Her sins would be so much sweeter, tasting of sugar-covered red ants with a sweet sting.
"What do you need?"
Desiderus leaned forward. "Someone or something has stolen her from me. I tried to summon her with her name, but nothing happened, as if she's been cloaked and protected. Finding her is a difficult task when there is no sense of the female anywhere that I can see."
"Powerful magics indeed to hide her from you." Ba'al's faces melded together, creating a distorted view of toad, cat, and human. His toad tongue slipped out in slow motion, tasting the air. His eyes narrowed into slits before blooming full-out black. "The Celests have her."
Desiderus sat back with a sense of what he could only describe as shock pooling in his chest. He clenched his jaw shut only to keep it from falling. The Celest had no magics. They hated demons, or anything Hell-related truly, but to hide a human from Desiderus's view was unnatural. Against the entirety of what the Celests stood for, the purists that they were. They hunted demons when they had enough to hunt and were always ready to help the sinners. The disgusting taste of holy souls left his mouth dry. Retrieving Haven would prove a touch harder than he thought. Desiderus would need all his strength to pull her from their clutches.
He'd have to go in unannounced, and if memory served him, the Celests were being run by a fanatic who believed all that was holy spoke through him. Demon rumors mostly, but Desiderus was about to find out how much truth there was to it. He needed to feed before entering the Celest compound. If they had magic enough to hide Haven, there was no telling what else they used in secret. The last thing he intended to do was walk in on a trap, and he'd been around long enough to know trapping a demon was no easy task. If they had taken her to get to him, then he would go in full-out demon. They couldn't have her.
He stood, closing his eyes, listening to those calling out, those sinning, those seeking deals. He waited patiently until he heard the strong voice of a man. The man sought more than one sin, coveting his friend's wife...tsk tsk. Just the kind of sin that helped land him with Ba'al. He'd milk the male for every drop of sin. By the time Desiderus would be full, the man would be too drained to do much but lay in helpless oblivion. Taking of a soul's sin to that kind of degree always weakened a human, making it days before the person would recover fully. Desiderus smiled, snapping his fingers, waiting for the dark smoke to unravel him before his soon-to-be meal of sins. His last thought before the void took him was of when Ba'al had syphoned his sins. Desiderus had awoken alone, starving, and so lethargic he could barely make it out of bed.
Chapter Twelve
Haven hugged her knees to her chest. She curled herself up against the wall by the iron cell door. The picture of Tyson hung across the way, staring at her like one of those creepy photos in a mansion where the eyes follow a person everywhere. Footsteps echoed back up the stairs and his voice carried back to her when he spoke.
"Witch, be sure to make it strong enough this time. I would like to keep her. Snares are few and far between, especially those who are already trained. It's the holy plan. I can feel it."
"I will," a scratchy female voice replied.
"And witch...don't tell anyone where she is."
Two sets of footfalls headed out, one growing closer, the other further away. Haven resisted the urge to look through the bars. There was no way any of this would be good. She naturally repelled magic potions and poisons like this, but if a witch were strong enough—strong enough to bring her here with the bird—it was likely that same witch would be powerful enough to make Haven...worship him. She swallowed the panic thumping at her chest. She needed a way out of this, to break free somehow. Looking around the small cell, Haven only saw dirt.
A hunched form appeared on the other side of the bars. "No need to fear me, love. I won't hurt you."
"You are going to drug me, that is harm." Haven kept her voice low, and didn't bother to move.
"It will only make you revere the man you see before you. Perhaps tweak your idea of reality a bit." The witch lifted her head and pure white eyes met Haven's. Haven blinked, not expecting to see them. "I'm not blind. I'm specially equipped in both dark and light arts of magics. The price I had to pay were looks and sight. Though I can't see things like others, trust me when I tell you I still see everything."
Haven's heart hammered against her chest, protesting what she knew was to come. She had no intention of letting the woman spell her in any way. The thought of revering Tyson disgusted her. He used
people, manipulated them to believe in him, and he very well could be a demon himself if he had lived for so long. No mortal man can live over a hundred years…though thinking further on it, Tyson could have made it all up. Perhaps he had some odd delusions. She wouldn't know if the same picture was up in every Celest compound. It was likely Tyson was using the unknown to his advantage, the snake.
Keys rattled and the door drifted open far enough for the witch to slip in. She removed a needle from her pocket, shook the syringe, and a dark green mixture swirled around the tube. Haven did not want that nasty looking goop to go anywhere near her body. She shot to her feet and side stepped along the wall. "Don't you dare touch me with that." This time she put all the anger she could muster into the words, a clear threat and warning for the witch. If she didn't hear it, Haven would do whatever was necessary to get around her. Everyone has a choice. "Tell you what, witch. You let me walk out of here, and I won't break your arms as I escape anyway."
The witch giggled. It sounded more like a croaking frog than an actual laugh, but the smile she held couldn't be mistaken. "You want me to let you go? Set you free? Of course I will, love. No need to go around breaking arms, I promise. I told you I had no intention of harming you."
Haven wearily cocked her head. This had to be some kind of trick. "You're just going to let me go? It will probably get you in trouble with your boss."
"Did you see me lock the cell door?"
Haven looked over; indeed the door was still open. Perhaps this witch wasn't as bad as she thought. Haven reassessed the situation and the woman before her. She had to be well over fifty years old. Cracks in light pink lips. Those eyes, while a bit creepy, looked sad as well. Perhaps she was trapped too? She could relate to the magic-wielding witch. How could she have been so bull-headed not to see that everyone was a prisoner here, and the witch was clearly being forced to do what Tyson wanted as well? What did he have over her?
Impure Bargains (Impure series Book 1) Page 9
