by A C Wilds
“If you haven’t grown up here, it’s difficult to know the players. Demons act like humans, but it’s not the same in war. We don’t care about casualties or innocents being slaughtered.”
“That’s fucked up.” But I appreciate her honesty. Many others would sugar coat their tactics. It’s refreshing to have someone be so real.
“Yes, it is, but we fight to kill. It’s the way of the demons.”
“I’m not sure I could let it go like that. I care too much about protecting the people who can’t protect themselves.”
“That’s the angel in you. Uriel has a soft side for helping others, even if he is one of the Fallen.”
She walks with me back the way I came with Nox. I want to find something to eat and return to training. If we’re going to win this, I have to make sure I get a handle on this magic.
“What caused him to fall?”
She shakes her head. “It’s a personal matter you must ask him about. It’s not my story to tell.”
More secrets. It shouldn’t surprise me.
I let it drop, knowing I won’t get any more out of her. “Where is the dining hall?”
“I’ll walk with you. You gave me the best workout I’ve had in a long while. I could use a refuel before more training.”
“Lead the way.” I gesture, walking next to her down the halls. This part of the castle isn’t like the others. It’s more formal. Rows of doors that lead to offices are left ajar. Demons run in and out, papers in hand.
“Your Highness,” a woman says, bowing to Umbra.
“Hello, Beth. What can I do for you?”
“The seamstress wants to make an appointment with you and the princess.”
“Ah, I was about to tell you. There is a ball tomorrow night to honor the return of your father and to welcome you to court.”
I blanch at the mention of a ball. “You mean dancing and more people?”
I enjoy dressing up as much as the next girl, but it’s the people I have a problem with.
Umbra chuckles, turning her attention to Beth. “Let Simon know we will be in my chambers later tonight. I don’t think there will be many alternations. Let him know Anima is about my size, a tad shorter.”
I cough out a laugh. I’m more than a tad shorter—I’m like four inches smaller.
“Yes, Your Highness.” She bows and takes off down the hall.
“When was someone going to tell me about this ball? And what do you mean, welcome me to court? I’m not a fan of having eyes on me. It might be better if I don’t go.”
She considers me. “You’re no longer in the Mortal Realm. You are a princess and the heir to the throne.”
Before I can argue, a voice rings out from the dining hall. It’s one of her mates. We walk through to see most guards and a few familiar faces eating as one big happy camp. I’ve never seen so much joking around from soldiers.
There’s a buffet to the side of the hall loaded with all different food. Some are recognizable, like the melon and strawberries, but others are questionable.
I stick with the basics, fruit, bread, a few pieces of meat, and a pastry that smells like plums. Umbra leads us to her table, and we crowd around with her men and a few guards.
They all rise from their seats and bow as I come over. Umbra smiles widely, waiting for me to realize it’s all for me.
“Welcome, Anima,” Togmerin says, rising from his bent posture.
“There’s no reason to bow. You can all get up now.”
The whole room is hunched over, waiting to be dismissed. If I were looking in the mirror, I know my cheeks would be flushed a bright red.
“Tell them to get up. They won’t otherwise,” Umbra whispers, making this even more awkward.
“Can’t you do it? I’m sure they’re used to bowing to you.”
She pats my shoulder, then gives me a slight push. She’s having fun with this.
“You all can get up now. And there is no need for this formality in the future.”
Donaas’ hidden laugh makes me think I didn’t handle that very well. I slide into the seat next to Umbra and dig into my food. The fruit is delicious, even more so than on earth. It tastes cleaner somehow.
“So, Anima. What did you do for a living back home?” Vargroth asks.
I eye him in disbelief. Has no one told them?
“I’m an assassin for the Tenebris coven.” I try not to show any emotions. It’s something I excel in, but these demons seem like they know too much.
“For a dark witch coven? How did a demon/angel get involved in working for witches?” Togmerin asks.
“I was born there, or at least that’s what we found out. Apparently, they stole my soul-merge and implanted it with witch DNA. I didn’t know what I was until I got here.”
The quiet meets my confession. I’ve never once cared what people thought about me. Shelley always tried to work on with me, but, right now, I feel the scrutiny. And it bothers me.
“That must have been rough, not knowing your people.”
“I didn’t think too much about it. I was busy training and rising in the ranks. I’m a warrior first. Fighting and killing don’t require you to know yourself.”
Umbra grabs my hand, but I pull it back. I don’t need pity. I turned out all right, regardless of where they created me.
She places her hand back on the table with a tight smile. But the guys noticed. I didn’t come to lunch to get grilled on my background.
A loud boom comes from the doorway, and Uriel enters like he’s the king and all this belongs to him. I can’t help but grin at his stupid outfit. I guess he’s missed court too much.
“Anima,” he says, coming to stand over the table. His jeweled hand goes to my shoulder, and I let out the laugh that was caught in my throat. I’m laughing so hard tears stream down my face, and I can’t help the snort that comes out of my mouth.
“What is so funny?” Umbra asks.
Wiping my face, I gaze at the angel. I almost lose it again, but I try to keep myself in check. “What in the fuck are you wearing?”
He scowls as he observes his clothes. “There is nothing wrong with this outfit.”
“You have a feathered cape over your enormous, feathered wings. And let’s not get started on the jewels. I didn’t even know you could make a broach that large. It must be so damn heavy.”
Giggling fits take over again, and I flick a feather with my finger. Narrowing his eyes, he gives me a playful push, trying to sit next to me.
“You’re going to get feathers in my fruit!”
“Serves you right, making fun of me. I have you know that this outfit is very in right now. It’s all the rage.”
“The things coming out of your mouth are not selling your case.” Turning to Umbra, I say, “And if you think for a second you’re going to throw feathers on me, I’m not going to this ball.”
“That’s a men’s look.” She rolls her eyes like I’m the dumbest thing in the room.
“I’m sure Anima is going to love the newest court fashions for a woman,” Donaas says, trying to shovel food in his mouth so he doesn’t have to look at me.
Fear comes over me. Suddenly, I’m yearning for my jeans and a tank top.
I was right to be afraid. These dresses are hideous. I reject one after another. All are too big, too stuffy, and have too many ruffles. I feel like we’re in the Elizabethan period.
“Don’t you have something slender? I can’t move in a poufy dress. There is no way I will be vulnerable with our enemies this close.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by slender. These dresses are the best I have,” the seamstress, Nava, says, her eyes darting back and forth between Umbra and me.
“She’s not used to the styles of court. Maybe we can meet her halfway? Anima, which dress do you like the best?”
I walk over to the rack again to flick through them. There is a ruby-colored dress that reminds me of Torque’s eyes. It has a lower neckline, and the skirt has only a half trai
n. The front of the dress is open.
“Could you turn this into pants? Keep the skirt over my hips and back, but have the pants shown off in the front. If you can make the train detachable, that would be better. Also, the sleeves. Can you make them short? I’d like to have access to a dagger.”
The seamstress smiles. “I can make those arrangements. It will cut it close, but I’m sure my girls will work their magic.”
I slip the dress on over my head, and she takes measurements with chalk and pins. Her hands move swiftly, pinching the fabric and tucking it there. When she’s done, I can almost see how the design will look.
When she’s finished, I leave the two women to go in search of Torque. This morning’s conversation is weighing on me. I want us to be together, but how can I trust him after all the secrets he’s kept? He says one thing, but I don’t find out the truth of his words until much later.
Cheers and celebrating come from a small room down the hall from Umbra’s suite. I don’t know where I am in the castle, so I follow the sounds, hoping I’m not interrupting whatever is going on.
“She’s everything I’ve ever wanted…” Torque’s voice floats out into the hall. I stop my movements to listen in. Part of me feels guilty, but my assassin instincts say to stay and eavesdrop.
“Yes, but she’s a witch. One who has taken out a lot of Bloods and Dark. How they’re even letting her walk around the palace is beyond me. She should be a prisoner,” Mammon says.
That fucking demon. He’s so lucky I’m sneaking around, or I’d punch him in the throat.
“When you know no other way, can you truly be blamed? Rahna all but brainwashed her into thinking her own kind is the enemy. And we allowed it to happen. The treaty we signed made us look like the monsters, not the other way around.”
“It was the price we paid. Not one of us has regretted it. If we didn’t leave, clans of Bloods would have died off. There would have been none of us left.”
“The past is the past. With her, we can take back what was ours. Being king has put some restrictions on what I can do, but she can do the rest. If our kingdoms unite, it will spread peace across the realm. We will finally be able to let our people prosper.”
Mammon doesn’t respond, but the fury in me grows. Is all this mating a way to get the Dark and Bloods together? What other ways is he planning on using this mating for his convenience?
I stalk away before I have to hear anything else. I was stupid to think this would work. Everyone has their own objective here, and I need to focus on my own. No more hot but scary Blood demons.
Eleven
TORQUE
The ball is in a giant domed glass structure in the west garden. The full moons hang low in the sky, making the pale lavender of dusk float over everything.
Mammon and I are one of the first guests to appear at the party. Some Dark Demons are lounging around, but most of the clan hasn’t shown.
There are three shadow thrones in the room’s front. I can’t imagine Anima sitting on a throne, but now that she’s a Dark princess, it will be her duty. A pang of sadness creeps up. I’d prefer her to be sitting on a throne made of blood.
“King-who-isn’t Torque Sanguis and his guard Mammon,” a squire calls out as we enter through the doorway. I grin my teeth at the reference, but he isn’t wrong.
We stride over to the drink table, where a fae who smokes with dark magic hands us two glasses of what looks like demonwine, but when I smell it, there is a distinct coppery scent. A dash of blood added.
I raise my glass to the bartender before taking a sip. It’s delicious. Mammon groans when he finally tries it.
“Gods, that’s fantastic.”
“We should find out what type of wine it is and take it back to Hallowed Grounds. I bet the boys wouldn’t be arguing that wine is too pussy to drink them.”
Mammon laughs into his glass before chugging the rest of it. I’ve missed being with my friend, laughing and joking. For centuries, we did nothing but fight, fuck, and eat our way through the Blood Realm.
The room fills. With more Dark arriving, there are more stares. Males push their females to the other side of the room, and they herald some children into another area.
Mammon’s fangs flash at a particular female, and she practically runs away screaming. I roll my eyes at the complacency of this place. We’ve suffered for thirty years in the Mortal Realm with our demons being hunted, and they’re worried Mammon will corrupt them.
“What are two Bloods doing at the Dark Court? You must be asking for a death wish. We don’t want blood scum in our lands,” says a young male demon. He’s cocky in the way twenty-something men are on earth.
“We have no quarrel with you, so please leave the vicinity,” Mammon says, standing a bit in front of me. His hand goes to his sword at his hip, and he scowls.
“This is our lands. You don’t belong,” one of his friends say. They’ve formed a semi-circle in front of us. Tension builds in their stances, the look of wanting a good fight declared in their eyes.
“As my general has said, we have no fight with you. Nox invited us, Now. Leave,” I ground out.
“Fuck you, Blood.” The original smart-ass takes a step, but before he can move any farther into the room, a small alabaster hand is placed on his shoulder, tugging him backward.
All the men turn to see the tiny demon, angry and amused. She’s beautiful in her ruby-colored gown. My color. She pulled her onyx hair up into a low bun, curls slipping out. I want nothing more than to touch them.
On her right forearm is a jewel-crusted dagger, rubies and onyx glinting in the twilight. My eyes graze down her body, and I chuckle. Only Anima would wear pants to a demon ball.
“What the fuck? Get your fucking hands off me, bitch,” he growls, trying to get her to release his shoulder, but she digs in harder, reaching for a pressure point. He crumples into himself, landing at her feet.
“Again, you need my help,” she says with a smirk. Hubris is tucked inside the pleats of the dress’s train. Her curves are on full display. It makes my cock jump to think what she’d taste like. She’s more beautiful than I could ever wish for.
“I did not need your help, little witch.” My taunt has her eyes sparkling silver.
The still-standing males circle around her, preparing to attack, to fight for their friend.
“You’re going to get your dress dirty.” Nox shadow smokes into the room behind her.
She rolls her eyes and sighs. “And you’re ruining my fun. Can I just kill one?”
He laughs as he pulls her to his side. “No, daughter, you cannot kill the next generation of lords.”
The young males jump back at the mention of her being Nox’s daughter. Where they were once ready to fight, now they are bowed so low they’re practically lying on the floor with their comrade.
She ignores them all.
“Is this party going to be boring?” she asks, shoving the young lord with her high-heeled shoe and walking right past him. I keep pace at their back. I don’t want her to alone tonight.
“We’ll have entertainment, but not the kind you would prefer. Maybe I could persuade you to come to the dais and have a seat? Many wish to meet you,” he asks, guiding her over to the room’s front.
She stops, shrugging out of his grasp. “I’m not sitting on a throne. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
“Of course,” he says with a tight smile. “Let me get you a drink, and we can mingle.”
“Okay,” she says. He gets sucked up in the crowd. Before she can disappear, too, I grab the back of her arms, pulling her closer to me.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper into her ear.
“Are you sure? Or am I useful?” she grits out.
I spin her around to face me. “What are you talking about?”
“I know exactly what you’re planning. Using our bond as a treaty to get Nox to agree to peace. What’s the goal, Torque? Ruling both kingdoms?”
She pulls awa
y from me, chin tipped up to stare at my face. “I never said that.”
“Not to me, no. But you felt the need to tell Mammon before your evil plan. Don’t worry, he didn’t snitch. I overheard when I came to see you this afternoon.”
“You’re taking it the wrong way. I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was using you. But our combined powers and positions will bring peace. And both kingdoms need that.”
She scuffs. “I can’t believe this. You’re not even going to deny it.”
“I would never lie to you, Anima. We’re mates. You are more important to me than anything.”
“No, Torque. I’m not. I’m no more important than these court games. If I were, you’d consider what I wanted. I’m not a princess or a queen. I’m an assassin who has special parents and a jackhole mate.”
She pushes through the crowd, heading for the balcony doors. Demons move out of her way faster than normal. I hasten my pace to catch up to her, but she’s already jumped.
The red silk train is the only thing I see before I get to the railing. She storms off into the forest, her hand on her sword.
“Maybe give her a moment. I’m not sure she won’t stab you,” Mammon suggests.
“Why does she run?”
“Because this is not her world. The rules we find logical and simple are outrageous to her. She feels trapped. Suddenly, everyone wants something from her. Imagine what that would be like for you.”
“I don’t like to admit you’re right. It bothers me.”
He slaps me on the back, joining me at the railing. Her dress is a drop of blood in the night, fading farther away.
“You’ll thank me when your mate wants to be with you.”
“What did you two idiots do now?” Uriel asks, his form taking up the entire doorway.
“Nothing, everything. I have no idea.”
He’s dressed in a ridiculous outfit. There are feathers everywhere, and not all are his. His eyes are lined in kohl, and there may be a jeweled belt underneath all that fluff.
“Where is she going?” he asks, taking a sip out of his wineglass.
