“I’m listening.” Shaytan sighed, feigning boredom. His face lit up when the Correction Officers returned with Blaze and Caia, their wrists bound by charmed cuffs and their expressions vacant, as if mind-bent. “Ah, yes, my future snacks!”
I knew they were still wearing their contact lenses and found myself in awe of their theatrical performance. Deep down, I was also thrilled and relieved to see them both alive and well. On top of that, I was becoming more and more certain that they had something to do with Rewa’s absence.
Emilian and Rowan were seething. Darius was somewhat numbed by his charmed cuffs. All he could do was ask again: “Where’s my daughter?”
They all looked at Caia and Blaze, as if they had the answer. Caia shrugged.
“I don’t know,” she murmured, staring blankly at the floor.
“What about you, little dragon?” Shaytan asked. “Do you know where Darius’s precious daughter went? I’m afraid I’ll sew his mouth shut if he asks the same question again, at this point.”
“I don’t know,” Blaze replied, appearing equally dazed. “She came to the room to see me. She kissed me and promised Caia a world of pain. Then she left. I don’t know where she went. She promised to come back and love me forever. I look forward to it, because I love her, too. I don’t know where she went.”
Well, the dragon could definitely play the mind-bent part. He came across as a bit of a fool, but, based on the Lords’ expressions, he’d sold the story and they’d gobbled it up, down to the last word.
“There you go,” Shaytan said, clapping his hands once. “They’re mind-bent, I presume, and telling the truth,” he added, then frowned at Darius. “Now, shut up. I’ve got some business to attend to here. Be a good bloodsucker and keep those lips tight.”
Farrah rolled her eyes, sighing. “Your Grace, here’s what I offer, on behalf of the Lords.”
“Farrah, what are you doing?” Emilian said, gritting his teeth. “You can’t—”
“Shut up, Lord Obara.” Farrah cut him off. “I’ve had enough of your half-witted solutions. We have an alliance here that is in desperate need of repairs, before we all get our heads cut off. It’s time we bring everything back under one treaty, once more,” she said, and looked at Shaytan. “Your Grace, let us give you the dragon, the fae, and Miss Hellswan, the latter of whom we’re keeping separately and extra secure, since she cannot be mind-bent. In return, we only ask that you release Lord Xunn. Rest assured that no one will make any attempts on your life.”
Shaytan thought about it for a few moments, his gaze gliding around the room from one creature to another. He briefly looked at Abeles, who smirked and offered him a faint nod in return. Shaytan then clicked his teeth and focused his full attention on Farrah.
I had to give her credit. Though I hadn’t spoken much to Farrah, and I’d seen Emilian and Rowan leading most of the governing-related conversations, I was somewhat impressed by her. She struck me as a devious survivor, ready to talk her way through any arrangement. I was also convinced that she was equally capable of stabbing and poisoning whoever got between her and her prime objective—and that included the other Lords.
However, I wasn’t sure she’d survive Shaytan, in any shape or form.
“I see,” the daemon king muttered. “I appreciate the offer, milady. However, I think it’s time we shake things in this place up a little bit. It’s getting too stale for my taste.”
“What do you mean, Your Grace?” Farrah replied, her brow furrowed.
“You’ve had equal standing in this world for thousands of years,” Shaytan said. “Yet all you’ve managed to do was to accelerate the depletion of our soul food sources.”
“But the outsiders… It’s why we brought them here, to gradually replenish the food population,” Farrah breathed, visibly alarmed. “We’re extremely close to getting this done, despite the minor hiccups.”
“Minor hiccups?!” Shaytan shot back, then burst into laughter. “They destroyed my prison city. They tore down Ragnar Peak! You must be struggling with semantics, my dear, because those are not minor hiccups. They’re major screw-ups. No, no, no. I think I’m done here.”
The Lords held their collective breath.
“What do you mean?” Emilian asked. The look on his face, however, told me he already knew what was coming. His worst-case scenario was most likely about to unfold.
Shaytan sneered at them.
“We need a change in the power structure here, Lord Obara. I’ve had enough of your amateurish shenanigans,” he said. “The daemons are the supreme species of Neraka, and I’ve grown tired of sharing the spoils with your kind.”
My fingers gripped my sword handles, and I slowly shifted my weight onto my left foot. My blood pumped faster, heat spreading through my body. I knew exactly what was going to happen next, and I wanted to be ready to ruin it for them.
Caia
Emilian was the first to stand, his hands balled into fists.
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, his tone flat and cold.
“You keep asking like you don’t understand what’s going on,” Shaytan replied, still casually sitting on the couch. “What is it that you fail to comprehend, Lord Obara?”
“We had a deal!” Rowan shot to her feet.
Farrah gripped her hand in a bid to calm her down, but the fear on her face told me she was starting to realize that no deal would save them from what was about to unfold. Blaze and I briefly exchanged glances. We knew we wouldn’t kick things off. Not yet, anyway. The scene had yet to build up to the maximum boiling point.
“That deal went out the window the moment you decided to conspire against me,” Shaytan said. “I thought I’d made that clear already. Has grief made you both stupid or what?”
I caught a glimmer of air rippling and the faintest flicker of jade eyes, slowly moving from the corner toward one of the Correction Officers. I discreetly nudged Blaze. He followed my gaze and spotted him, too. Caspian was most likely down in the Palisade, working to get Lumi and Harper out. We were both looking at either Jax or Heron. Chances were that he wasn’t alone.
With the Lords busy arguing with Shaytan, no one spotted the intruders. Blaze and I continued to play our mind-bent parts in the meantime. We were still waiting for that pinnacle, the catalyst that would trigger our deadly surprise.
“Your Grace, surely we can talk about this,” Farrah said, her voice trembling as she stood up. “Despite our shortcomings, we’ve had a good relationship with your kingdom over the millennia. There must be a way for us to get past this… unpleasant bump in the road.”
Shaytan grinned. “This is no longer an equal agreement between daemons and Exiled Maras, milady. You tossed that aside when you went for my throat.”
“I didn’t—” Farrah stopped herself, then took a deep breath. “Granted, there were some discussions, but nothing was ever truly carved in stone. You must understand, we have to protect ourselves, too.”
“You can protect yourselves as much as you want, just not at the expense of the daemon king’s life,” Abeles shot back. His expression was dark and firm. He was no longer interested in what they had to say, and neither were Garros and Mammon.
“This is preposterous! I will not stand here and—” Emilian said, but got cut off by a thump coming from upstairs, muffled by a scream.
They all froze. Shaytan didn’t move but was visibly confused.
An Iman servant ran downstairs, crying and stricken with horror.
“Milords! Milords! There’s a pile of ashes in the cupboard… There were charred fingers in it! And teeth! I saw teeth!” She sobbed, then raised a Lordship ring for everyone to see, her hand shaking.
Darius gasped. Emilian moved to take the ring from the Iman girl, who’d stopped in the living room archway, but the daemons instantly drew their swords. The COs reacted, taking out their blades as well. Every fiber in my body beckoned me to grab the nearest knife or sword and do something, but Blaze and I stood still. The perfect m
oment was just around the corner.
“Enough!” Emilian barked, scowling at the daemons, then at Shaytan.
The daemon king exhaled sharply and motioned for his guards to let Emilian move. The Mara Lord took the Lordship ring from the Iman girl’s hand and carefully examined it before giving Darius a sorrowful look.
“It’s Rewa’s. She started wearing it in your absence,” Emilian said, his voice trembling.
“No… No… No!” Darius cried out, stricken with grief. He slid off the couch and dropped to his knees. I felt a little sorry for him, but not enough to warrant any kind of mercy.
“Who… Who did this?” Rowan murmured, looking around the room.
The Iman girl sniffed and wiped her tears. “I found it in the room upstairs, where you keep your… guests,” she said.
Suddenly, all eyes were on us. We kept our game faces on, though. They had no idea we were wearing protective contacts. They wouldn’t figure it out unless we told them, anyway.
“You! Did you do this?” Emilian hissed, coming back to us.
“Do what?” I asked, playing exceptionally dumb.
“This!” he replied, lifting the Lordship ring for me to see. “Did you kill Rewa?”
I blinked several times. “No.”
“Did you?” Emilian then asked Blaze, who looked equally befuddled.
“They’re mind-bent by Rewa! How could they?” Farrah scoffed.
“Well, someone did!” Emilian shot back.
Darius was on the floor, completely broken down. He was bawling like a little boy—the third Lord to have lost a child since we’d arrived on Neraka. Taken out of context, it would’ve made us look like monsters. But knowing what they’d done and planned to keep doing, I could only breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that Sienna, at least, was on our side, and that Farrah’s kids were too young to get involved in their parents’ mess.
“I didn’t do anything,” Blaze muttered. He’d gotten even better at playing his part. For a second there, I thought he’d picked the wrong career. The dragon could’ve very well belonged on stage.
“We saw Rewa leave our room. We don’t remember anything else,” I added.
“What if they were mind-bent by Rewa’s killer?” Rowan asked, looking at Emilian and Farrah.
“You mean a Mara did this?” Emilian replied.
“Maybe Caspian!” Rowan offered, then frowned. “Or maybe the king here had something to do with it. He’s got plenty of Mara prisoners in his… dessert cages.”
The attention in the room shifted to Shaytan. His eyebrows popped up with surprise. I slipped the key into my cuffs, then discreetly passed it on to Blaze.
“You’re joking,” Shaytan muttered. “I’ve got better things to do with my time than stage an elaborate murder. If I want to kill any of you, I’ll make a damn good statement of it, too.”
Just then, as the Maras and daemons sneered at each other, I saw Jax and Hansa appearing behind two Correction Officers. Their invisibility spells had worn off. They’d timed this incredibly well. With or without the discovery of Rewa’s charred remains, this was our moment of revelation.
Our cuffs dropped to the floor with a disruptive rattle. The Correction Officers in front of Hansa and Jax collapsed, their heads cut off. Gasps erupted around the room, and Blaze and I took a couple of steps back. Jax tossed one of his spare lighters my way—I caught it, flicked it open, and assumed an attack position.
Both the Lords and the daemon king were taken by surprise. Shaytan stood up, towering over everyone.
“The jig is up,” I said, wearing a confident smirk.
“How… How can this be?” Emilian was baffled.
Rowan was burning with rage. Farrah was stunned, as were Abeles, Garros, and Mammon. Darius was lost for a second, before it all came back into focus and he rose to his feet.
“You… You killed my baby,” he murmured, eerily calm. There was a storm coming. I could feel it in my bones.
“How? How?” Emilian still couldn’t wrap his head around it. “You were mind-bent.”
“We were never mind-bent,” I replied. “We took precautions prior to coming here. Boy, you really underestimated our ability to adapt.”
“Aren’t you a fiery little thing?” Shaytan chuckled, genuinely impressed. “So, you’ve been playing these bloodsuckers since they first slapped the cuffs on you, huh?”
Blaze and I nodded. Shaytan then glanced over at Hansa and Jax, who’d been surrounded by several daemons and COs.
“And your friends came to rescue you,” he added.
“Nope,” Hansa shot back, then took out her Adlet flare, held it up, and winked at me. “We came here to terminate you all.”
I produced a small fireball, which I threw at the flare. It ignited with a bright red flash, blinding everyone temporarily. I looked away but heard the ensuing bang. The Adlet flare was not made to burn indoors. It shot toward the sky, making a hole through the ceiling, the upper floors, and eventually the roof, before it reached the optimum altitude and exploded in its typical fashion.
Shaytan growled, baring his fangs at Hansa.
“If you think a little flare will save you, you’re in for an ugly surprise,” he said.
“Oh, that wasn’t for me,” Hansa replied, a grin stretching her lips. “That was for our allies.”
“Allies?” Emilian scoffed. “What allies? The Dhaxanians, the Adlets, the Manticores, they’re all coming to sign an agreement with us. What allies? Ten rebel Imen and Lord Kifo? Don’t be ridiculous!”
The entrance door burst open, and several Correction Officers came in, looking pale and sweaty. They were baffled at first by the frozen standoff between us, the daemons, and the Maras, but they had to tell the Lords what was happening outside.
“Milord,” one of the COs said, “there are troops coming out of the gorges. Hundreds of them. Fights are breaking out in the city. There’s something going on.”
“Damn straight there’s something going on,” I replied, producing a large fireball with my lighter.
All of a sudden, the atmosphere changed in the room. The Maras and the daemons became aware of the ensuing battle. The Dhaxanians, the Adlets, and the Manticores were on our side. We had rebel Imen, daemons and Maras fighting for us.
“If you thought anyone would be foolish enough or suicidal enough to trust you, Emilian, then you’re a lot dumber than I gave you credit for,” Hansa said, raising her sword, ready to fight.
Shaytan checked each of us out, then narrowed his eyes at me.
“I take it you want a war, then,” he muttered.
“Time’s up,” I said.
They couldn’t believe it, but they couldn’t deny it, either. We’d made good use of our element of surprise. Within minutes, more of our fighters were going to storm this place. All we had to do was fight, tooth and nail, until the protective shield around Neraka came down.
I mentally braced myself for what came next. After all, we were in the same room as Shaytan and three of his sons. The Mara Lords were equally vicious and dangerous. But I had no intention of dying in this place. None whatsoever.
Fiona
This time around, we decided to change things up a little, taking advantage of the funeral. After our previous incursion into the Palisade, odds were that the Exiled Maras would be extra vigilant and would be wearing their red lenses. Going invisible wasn’t our best way in.
Instead, we secured some funeral capes and masks from Aymon. We’d stayed close to the funeral procession, but we were at the back, as far away from the Lords, the daemons, and even Hansa and Jax as possible. Once we came back up, we split away from the crowd and casually made our way toward the sixth level, black velvet hoods and porcelain masks still on.
Zane was the only one who made use of the invisibility spell, and for good reason, too. I could only imagine the anger and anguish in his heart at the sight of his brothers and evil father. He stayed out of sight, but close, and joined us outside the Palisade.
The townspeople were slowly going back to their homes and businesses. It was an eerie picture to watch unfold, as they all wore the same funeral garb. I caught faint ripples of air here and there. Our teammates and allies were close by. However, their main focus was providing backup to Hansa, Jax, Caia, and Blaze. We had to make do with our ensemble, but I was certain we’d pull it off.
Zane went ahead, as planned, and snuck into the building to prepare our access into the basement. That included diverting or disabling any Correction Officer that might wonder what we were doing down there.
Caspian, Heron, Avril, and I entered the spacious lobby area, then casually passed by the reception desk and headed for the secluded corridor. I led the team as we moved slowly, flowing with the rest of the Maras and Imen on the ground floor. We occasionally stopped and pretended to talk, while I kept an eye on the nearby corridor.
I got a glimpse of a CO being dragged out of sight by an invisible force—Zane. He killed every Mara in our path and discreetly shoved them inside vacant rooms and closets. He was fast and effective. I was impressed, though it didn’t come as a surprise. I’d already seen what he could do, but I couldn’t really get enough of it.
“Okay, coast is clear,” I muttered, then walked toward the corridor, with the others right behind me.
We all came to a sudden halt when two Correction Officers emerged from a chamber to our right. They both seemed relaxed and amused, sipping blood from crystal chalices.
“I tell you, they were—” one of them said, stopping when he spotted us. He smiled. “How was the funeral?”
Dammit. Now I have to play along.
I shrugged. “Sad,” I replied.
We had no choice but to talk our way out, before we could sneak through the corridor, which was literally just a few feet away. I briefly glanced around, noticing only a handful of Imen servants in the chamber. We were in a relatively quiet part of the ground floor, as most of the guests were buzzing around the reception area, along with the private quarters on the other side of the grand staircase.
A Battle of Souls Page 7