by Cate Corvin
Belial raised an eyebrow, looking down at me. “Dangerous business.” He chuckled when I swatted at him and helped me sit up. Having one wing bound made me feel ungainly and off-balance.
“I was thinking of going to the succubi.” I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder, and looked down at my hand against his arm. It was paler against his bronzed skin, and still streaked with ash and soot.
“That so?” He rubbed a bit of the ash on my skin, leaving a gray smear behind.
From anyone else, the question would’ve sounded loaded, but as always Belial just really wanted to know why. I was glad he’d been the one to find me lurking up here in a depressive mood.
“Yes. She’s one of them, and they’re the protectors of women; it stands to reason that if anyone has a will or a way to track Vyra, it’s them. But…” I leaned in harder, managing a small smile. “I don’t know where to find them or their leader, and I was hoping you could help.”
Belial scrubbed his fingers through my hair, gently combing out some of the tangles. “Hmm. Their temple is in the Second Circle. I’ll bring you there myself, on one condition.”
“What’s that?” I asked, my eyes half-closed with contentment. With Belial on my side, some of the stress melted away. If he told me he’d bring me to them, then I knew he’d go to the ends of the earth to keep his word.
“You don’t go until tomorrow morning,” he said.
My eyes snapped open. “But we need to look now-”
Belial was already shaking his head. “We’re all covered in ash and blood. You just had the shit kicked out of you by one of your own mates and a massive fucking dragon, and you’ve slept for three days. You’re going to eat something, wash, and get some rest. I know you’re a walking powerhouse, angel, but you’re eventually going to collapse if you run yourself ragged.” He paused, clearly debating what to say next. “After all, it’s not just you alone anymore.”
I rested my palm against my stomach. He was right. It wasn’t just me anymore. I had a whole new person to care for.
“I can’t believe I’m the one talking sense into you,” he muttered, and lowered his hand to cover mine.
“No, you’re right. I could run myself into the ground at this rate.” If I wanted to help Lucifer and Vyra, I needed to be at my best. One of the first things we’d learned in Heaven was that a run-down warrior was a soon-to-be-dead warrior. Pushing myself to the limits with a baby and a broken bone was a guaranteed way to make sure all my efforts would be in vain. “I’ll try to sleep again. But tomorrow I’m going to this temple. I just hope they’re willing to do something for her. She’s belongs to them, after all.”
Belial took my hand and pulled me off the bed, leading me into the hall and shutting Vyra’s door behind us. I tried not to think about how the click of the door sounded like a death knell to my ears, like I was shutting the thought of her behind it.
Even though he was always the first one to push me into action, Belial was the voice of reason now.
He locked my bedroom door behind us. I shed my clothes and ran a bath in the massive pool instead of showering, conscious of all the bandaging around my wing.
“It’s going to be impossible to get all the soot out of my feathers if I can’t stretch it out,” I grumbled, slipping into the hot water and standing upright in the deep bath so my wing wouldn’t get soaked.
“That’s why you have me.” Belial sat on the edge, his legs dangling in the water. He reached out and pulled me closer until I was wedged between his thighs, adjusting me so my wing was draped over his leg.
I leaned against him as he smoothed my hair over my shoulder and out of the way, then dipped a cloth in the water and wrung it out.
A shiver ran through me when he ran the wet cloth over my feathers, carefully brushing so he wouldn’t move the slowly-healing bone. He worked his way through the layers of feathers bit by bit, his touch so gentle I barely felt it.
I pressed my marked palm against his thigh. Even with the bathwater steaming, his skin was hotter still, and the gentle flex of muscle moved under my hand as he shifted in place to clean my wing.
I had no idea how I’d gotten so lucky as to win him over.
“I know what the others would say,” he murmured, running the cloth over the fine feathers near my shoulder blade. “I shouldn’t encourage you. I’m supposed to tell you to stay inside, stay out of trouble, stay out of the way. But that’s just not what you’re meant for.”
I shook my head, wrapping my hand around as much of his muscular thigh as I could manage and pressing my fingertips into his skin. “Is it selfish of me to not give this up with Sarai on the way?”
He trailed his fingers down my spine, making my skin tingle, and carefully resumed cleaning the long pinfeathers. “No. It would be selfish and cowardly to hide away and let everyone else take care of it. That you refuse to stop is just one of the many reasons I love you. I would rather have a mate who keeps fighting to her last breath than one who runs from war.”
Belial slicked the cloth over the outside of my feathers, then dropped it to the side and carefully pulled me back against his chest.
“Good,” I whispered, burying my head under his chin. “I can’t stop. I won’t stop until we have them back, and it makes it all easier knowing you have my back on this.”
“Of course I do.” He stroked my hair, and I caught sight of his palm when he pulled his hand away. It was streaked black with grime.
I lifted a strand of my hair. Hardly any of the violet was visible; every strand was coated black and gray. “Ugh. Get in here and let’s get this off.”
His sharp teeth flashed when he smiled, and he got to his feet. “Thought you’d never ask, angel. Make room.”
I barely managed to duck aside in time to shield my bandaging before he dove in like a cannonball. He surfaced a moment later, shaking water from his hair and laughing.
I pulled him close to me, touching the glint of dark stubble along his chin. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
“Would you want it any other way?” he asked, giving me a devilish look.
Belial sat on the underwater ledge and pulled me into his lap, keeping my wing just above the water. I felt his cock harden and push against the inside of my thigh, even though he made no move to fuck me while I was exhausted.
“Not at all.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned my forehead against his. “But if Sarai is anything like you, we’re going to have problems.”
“Now that you’ve said it out loud, she will be,” he said. Water beaded and sparkled against his full lower lip, and I interrupted him to kiss it away. “Joke’s on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not how it works.”
“Yes, it is,” he said.
“No, it’s not.”
The argument hadn’t ended by the time we left the lukewarm bath. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep curled against Belial’s side, feeling a little more peaceful than before.
4
Melisande
We woke up to someone knocking on the door.
Belial groaned, snuggling against me tighter. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, pretending for just a moment that nobody else was there.
Whoever it was knocked harder, refusing to be deterred.
“Time to rise and shine,” Belial said muzzily, rubbing a hand over his face. I got out of bed feeling much better than the day before, even though I still had to move gingerly with my wing.
He strode towards the door stark naked, but before I could open my mouth to say something, he’d already pulled it open. “What?” he said, sounding far more snarly than usual.
An Overseer was there, his hand still raised to knock again. I recognized the porcine snout and gold ring. “Hi, Tabor,” I called, waving from behind Belial.
His piggy eyes widened in horror, and his next words spilled out in a flood. “My Prince, the Brightside needs your assistance in the excavation of the arena. Your assistance. Just your
s.”
I held up a dress against myself. I’d slept in one of Belial’s shirts, which came down to my knees. “Aw. You don’t want to stay and help me pick out clothes?”
Poor Tabor was already backing away. “It’s urgent, my Prince. Some of your safeguards are too powerful for the Overseers to break, and they’re nervous about some of the… uh… things locked in there.”
Belial leaned against the door frame and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’ll be there shortly, Tabor.”
He closed the door as the Overseer fled. “You really left a lasting impression on that poor demon.”
“When you brought me in, my goal was to be as big of a pain in the ass as possible.” I smiled sweetly at Belial and discarded the dress. “I think I managed quite well.”
He pulled a clean shirt over his head and tied his long hair back in a ponytail. “Damn right you did. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to handle this first, angel. There are some things I have buried under the arena that shouldn’t be disturbed without me being present. We can go together later, if you’d like.”
I picked through my clothes until I found a leather shirt with straps that laced in the back. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know what sort of things Belial was talking about. “Can you help me with this? And I can handle this on my own. Just tell me where the succubi temple is. I’ll ride Capheira up there myself.”
Belial helped lace me into the shirt, keeping it a little loose around the edges of my wing. He adjusted my bandaging as well, ensuring the limb would stay neatly folded in place.
“You’ll ride up through the main thoroughfare,” he said, twisting my hair up and pinning it into place with a silver hair stick that would double as a weapon in an emergency. “When you reach Lust, go left. Ride past Asmodeus’s little playground and continue on until you reach a fountain. You’ll know which one, trust me. The temple’s entrance is in front of it- and if you come across Asmodeus and he gives you trouble, stick him with this.”
He turned me around and pressed his ebonite dagger into my hand. The matte black metal was warm against my palm, the weight reassuring.
Holding the dagger brought back a powerful memory of burying it in Yraceli’s flesh, the heart-pounding terror of believing I was done for. The gut-wrenching disappointment of realizing what I’d done to Belial.
“You know where to stab him first. Aim low.” Belial kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, and finally my mouth. “I’d come with you, but…”
I kissed him back and pulled my demon-hide pants on. “No, go take care of our Circle. I think the succubi might be more likely to invite a woman in by herself, anyways.”
I strapped a thigh sheath on and slipped the ebonite dagger inside it, then slid my silver claws on over my fingertips. A pang of sadness went through me when I flexed my hand, making the silver points gleam the way Vyra’s did, but I was doing something tangible now, finally moving forward.
The Chainlings informed us that Tascius was on duty guarding Michael, and Azazel had been called away by Pytho, who was irritated over the continued presence of the Grigori Reapers in his Circle. I gave the Chainlings messages to pass on to them before walking out to the stables with Belial.
Capheira was flank-deep in the pond, her mouth stuffed with lily pads. As soon as she saw Belial approaching, she climbed out, shedding water by the bucketful and flicking her tail.
He stroked her nose and fed her an apple he’d taken from the arena, telling her she was a beautiful, good horse. The lightning flickering inside my mount intensified in brightness and speed, her smugness clearly showing as Belial crooned to her.
She was perfectly happy to let him saddle her. Belial lifted me onto her back, leading her to the front of the arena and out into the street. The click of Capheira’s hooves was muffled by all the ash and dust piled on the obsidian road.
“Take care of my princesses, you brilliant beauty,” he told her, and Capheira tossed her head, nibbling his shirt.
“You’re going to make Arcturus jealous,” I said with a laugh.
“I’d tell you to be careful, but what I really mean is to make sure you’re the last one standing if anything happens.” Belial ran his fingers down my thigh and rested his hand on my knee. “You’ll be safe with the succubi. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, and Belial backed away. Within seconds he was shifting into a golden lion, his flaming tail whipping behind him as he headed towards the ruins of the Brightside.
I nudged Capheira into a walk, guiding her towards the main thoroughfare that led upwards. “Come on, pretty girl.”
It wasn’t a smooth ride by any stretch of the imagination. Buildings that had cracked and toppled had fallen into the streets, creating massive mounds of rubble that Capheira needed to navigate through. The gentle wind of the Nightside had blown the ash against fences and foundations that looked like drifts of gray, dirty snow. The smell of flowers was long gone, replaced with the acrid stench of burning.
My chest tightened at the sight of all the damage, but even more surprising was the number of demons who seemed absolutely thrilled with the destruction.
They danced in the streets, some painted in bright carnival-like colors, even as they hauled rubble away.
One of them was jumping on the plinth of a fallen statue. “The King is dead! The King has fallen! Fuck the Dragon!” he screamed.
In the Sixth Circle, they’d made an effigy. A scarecrow dressed in a black suit and stovepipe hat was hauled up and tied to a pyre. They danced around it as it burned, their limbs contorting like acrobats, and the wind carried away streams of smoke and red-hot cinders.
I watched the stovepipe hat go up in flames, my heart pounding. It wasn’t real, only a bunch of straw stuffed inside the suit… but God, what I wouldn’t give to watch the real Satan burn now, impaled on a whole and unbroken Sword of Light.
Just the look of agony on his face would feed my soul.
It seemed amazing to me that people could be celebrating at all, with their homes in piles around them, the dead piled by the dozens, the pall of smoke hanging over Dis.
But if I hadn’t lost Lucifer and Vyra, perhaps I’d be out there with them, dressed in veils and glittering with paint.
Only I’d be dancing on the ashes of the true corpse.
Before I left the Circle of Heresy, I caught sight of Prince Leviathan in the distance. He stood over a line of neatly lined bodies, pouring oil over their bodies on a hastily constructed pyre.
He looked up before I passed. Even through the skull mask he wore, I imagined I could feel the deep anger in his gaze.
I shivered at the sight and felt much more at ease as I passed through Sloth, where all of the demons were working slowly but steadily. Many of them yawned, their heads and shoulders bowed with tiredness.
The higher I went up, the less destruction there was. By the time I reached the Second Circle, almost all of the buildings were still completely intact. The only sign of damage was the wind-bent trees and the occasional tilted lamp post, but the upper Circles had been doing their part by taking in the injured. Many of Lust’s buildings seemed to be spilling over with people who needed healing… or people who needed distraction from healing.
I glanced over my shoulder at the lower Circles before I turned Capheira into Asmodeus’s territory, but it was the sky that caught my eyes.
I’d never seen winged demons flying openly over the middle of Dis before. They’d always tended to stay over the Circles.
Now they were flying en masse over the empty Pit. Entire teams of demons were ferrying supplies back and forth, and messenger imps were darting back and forth like dragonflies.
It was an odd sight, all those demons having the freedom to fly where they wanted without fear. And even odder than I’d find that odd at all.
I turned back around, intending to nudge Capheira into a canter, and jerked in surprise instead. A very tall, copper-haired Prince was blocking my way, his fingers looped in
my horse’s bridle.
“Look who we have here,” Asmodeus purred. “A little angel without her retinue.”
I frowned at him. “I’m here to see the succubi, not you.”
Asmodeus released Capheira, walking around and taking in my bandaged wing. “How unfortunate, when I’m so happy to see you.”
At least Belial had given me the ebonite dagger. It made me feel a lot better about talking back to a Prince. “I can’t imagine why. You know I’m just going to reject you again, so why don’t we skip that whole conversation and go to the part where we say goodbye?”
Asmodeus just smiled up at me, his amber eyes twinkling. “Why let you go now, when you’ve given us so much fun?”
I sighed and prayed for patience. He couldn’t help but be what he was. “Prince Asmodeus. One of my mates and my best friend in this world are missing. I need to talk to the succubi, so if you’d be so kind, I want to get on with it.”
He tossed his long hair over his shoulder. His muscular torso was oiled and every ridge of it gleamed in the half-sun, but there was nothing appealing about it. All I could imagine was just how many people touched that torso in a day.
Probably hundreds. I preferred my ever-loyal mates to someone like Asmodeus.
“I’ve heard you have the healing touch,” he said, looking up at me from under his eyelashes.
Did he really need to flirt just to have a simple conversation? I nodded. “Yes, to some extent.”
“Well, then. If you won’t come play with me, would you do me a favor? One of the succubi I’m rather fond of took a serious injury in the battle. She isn’t in danger of dying, but my healers are already stretched thin. If you would do this favor for me, I would be in your debt.”
My eyebrows crept upwards. A Prince offering to be in my debt over a succubus?
I reached for my magic, half afraid it would still be consumed, but the sleep Belial had insisted on had brought the embers back to a flame. Both dark and light fire reached back for me, pleased to be called on.