“I can assume from your expression, you were not aware of this,” Li’el said.
“No.”
“If it is any consolation, he volunteered to monitor you, but Asmodeus considered you a failure on sight. Like so many before you, in demon form, you had both wings. He told Valenti to dispose of you, despite your brother’s insistence you were the one. Asmodeus would not believe the runt you were would be the death-bringer. Your brother sold you, but I suspect Mammon never stopped watching the half-blood demon with fire in her heart. And then, of course, when your owner took your wing, Mammon knew for certain who you were and petitioned Asmodeus to let him be your mentor.”
I knew Akil had tutored me for my father, but I hadn’t known what hold Asmodeus had over him. Now I did. Akil had been protecting his own interests, his pretend human life. He’d wanted me for himself, that hadn’t been a lie. Was it possible he might even have felt something about his part in my mother’s death? He would have known Asmodeus and my brother would never let a human live after everything she’d seen. He’d picked a woman—a normal everyday woman—to die among demons. Had that knowledge hurt him, or had he shrugged it off the way any immortal chaos demon would have?
“Mammon’s motives are forever complex.”
“Were forever complex,” I corrected.
Li’el smiled. “Of course.”
“Wait, you said…like so many before me? My father sired more half bloods?”
“He did, looking for the one-winged Mother of Destruction, but all infants had both wings. They were killed at birth or sold.”
All half bloods were killed at birth or sold. All demons knew it. Half bloods were curious playthings. But Asmodeus knew the truth. Mammon and my brother, they’d known. So not all were killed. Some of Asmodeus’s bloodspawn could have been sold. Did that mean I had half-blood brothers or sisters somewhere? I had family? Why had Akil not told me this? “Did Mammon…” A growl clogged my throat. “Were there more women, besides my mother?”
“Yes. After your birth, Asmodeus tired of your mother’s failure to produce the prophesized half-blood. He ordered Val to kill her and found another human female.”
My brother had told me he’d cut my mother’s throat. Perhaps it had been a mercy for her? My degenerate upbringing had been nothing compared to what she must have endured beneath the body of the Prince of Lust. And Akil had known. He’d said my father was brutal. He would know. He’d helped him.
My smile was a bitter and twisted thing. I turned away from Li’el. “What happened to the other woman?”
“Killed the moment you were recognized.”
Akil had delivered human women into the hands of my father, who had used them as brood mares, looking for me, the prophesized Mother of Destruction. I didn’t know my mother. I had no idea what she’d looked like, what her name was, how her voice had sounded, or whether she’d laughed or lived at all. But I cared. The human part of me cared for that poor woman. “I want to find my siblings.” Perhaps in them, I might know her.
“Your brother killed the majority of them. Of those he let live, he was the only one to know where they were sold. Their locations are unknown.”
I had family. Real flesh-and-blood family. They were half bloods. Their lives would have been torture. But if they were like me—like her—they’d be survivors. If I put my mind to it, I could find them. Half bloods were rare. I thought of how Jerry had once told me he’d tried to save one. Jerry might know more. Akil would. He’d watched me. He’d likely watched Asmodeus’s other offspring too. It was more important than ever to get that slippery bastard back on his feet. I was so going to go nuclear on his ass.
Li’el, my demon escorts, and I walked in silence the rest of the way across the savannah to a small gulley between the grassland and a rocky, barren stretch of land where Jerry’s sanctum would be. No lessers attacked. I hadn’t expected them too. Li’el sometimes dissolved into mist so that he was hardly by my side at all, but his cool, whispering touch never quite left.
“I am sorry if my words distressed you.”
“No, you’re not,” I said to the swirling cloud hovering over the narrow stream beside me.
“You are right. I am not. Human females—”
My growl was a wonderful baritone ripple. “Sorry doesn’t work unless you mean it. You are demon and the Price of Pride. The day your kind say sorry and mean it is the day hell freezes over.”
Li’el’s cloud anchored above the water while I stomped on. “You believe we are only demon.”
“Oh, I know you are.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“You wouldn’t ask me that if you knew the torture I’d endured at the hands of only demons.”
“Do you believe we are capable of change?”
“No. Chaos doesn’t change.”
“And what of Mammon?”
Clever. I walked on, but I’d already hesitated too long. “Mammon was different.”
“Ah, so he can change, your lover, but not the rest of us. Does it make you feel better to believe the lies you tell yourself?”
“You don’t know me or what I had with Ma—Akil.”
“Child, you are perhaps thirty-something human-years old, and already, you know everything. How wonderful for you.”
Li’el’s gilded sarcasm was getting old. “Fine. Tell me what I don’t know.” I grumbled, feet stomping ever deeper into the mud.
“Akil was but one facet of Mammon, the body he crafted for himself, the words on his tongue, the touch of his fingers. It is lies, a beautiful deception.”
I scoffed. “I know that.”
“Of course you do. You know everything.”
I stopped and lifted my gaze. We had perhaps an hours walk to go. We would make it by nightfall. And here was the Prince of Pride, twittering to me about change. What exactly did he want from me? Slicing my glare behind me revealed Li’el standing on the mud bank, looking every part the beautiful deception he spoke of.
“Mammon was as old as the earth beneath your feet,” he said. “He devoted his existence to greed. Nothing would be denied him. That which he could not possess, he stole. He was a liar and a cheat. The humans called me the trickster. He found it amusing that they labeled me as such when he was more worthy of that name. You cannot tell me this does not sound like him.”
“I know what Mammon is.”
“Then you must be aware his vessel is a trap, as is mine.”
“Yes.”
“I meant what I said. I will follow you, but I asked that you do not restore him.”
And here was the crux. Li’el peered back at me, his body nonchalant, but his eyes were a swirl of gray. “You are enemies.” I kept my tone level and direct.
“All of us are enemies. We have lived long lives. It is easier to betray than remain loyal when you have an immortal lifetime of deception.” He sighed. “You carry his soul. Do not deny it. I sense his element in you.”
I took a leaf out of Akil’s book and skirted the truth. “Mammon changed. Things happened in Boston. He is different.”
“It is lies.”
The Akil who’d tried to force me back to the netherworld had been a lying bastard, but the Akil who’d told me he was alarmed to find himself caring, the Akil who’d saved me from going nuclear outside the Institute and lost the half bloods in the process, the Akil who’d blocked Dawn’s wicked power and sacrificed himself doing so… That wasn’t the same demon Li’el knew. “We will have to agree to disagree.”
Darkness flooded Li’el’s eyes. His upper lip pulled tight over sharp teeth. “You are making a mistake.”
“No, the mistake is yours. He is different, and I will prove it to you.”
“Ahkeel will be your undoing.”
Akil, my undoing? “No demon has the power to be my undoing. If you believe that to be a lie, you’re following the wrong one-winged half blood. I like you, Li’el. Hell knows why. Trust me.”
“Trust…”
“
It’s a human thing.” I smiled. “We human females have a way of giving you demons the feels.”
His lashes fluttered as he considered my words, and when I was about to write him off as a lost cause, he nodded once, and then poofed away, far enough away that his gaze no longer fluttered across my skin. At least I now knew what Li’el wanted—or didn’t want—and that was Mammon breathing again. They had a history.
I returned to my trek with Jerry’s barren lands ahead, but even as I marched on, I wondered. Akil had led my mother to the slaughter. The Akil I knew would never have done such a thing, not even to protect his life of luxury. It was before, I told myself. He’d admitted I’d been the one who changed him. I’d done the impossible and changed chaos. But that didn’t stop a fracture of doubt working its way through my plans.
Chapter 16
The King of Hell no longer looked like a backstreet vet. Gone was the muscle-bound human body with its second-skin of tattoos. In its place stood a creature one hundred percent thoroughbred demon. Crocodilian skin served as armor. Claws like scythes tipped long fingers. The tail that lashed behind him carried bunches of spikes, perfect for knocking opponents aside and impaling them. He stood inside a huge stone circle. Each monolith towered over him, and he was by no means small. Three times my demon height with a wingspan that put Mammon’s to shame, Jerry was every part the nightmarish demon from human myths and legends. He looked down his muzzle at me as if he might bite me in two.
What does one say to the King of Hell? I looked up at him and…stared. He’d watched me approach. The neko had long ago scarpered. All around his sanctum, the plain was flat and featureless. Angry skies churned above. I couldn’t have snuck up on him even if I’d wanted to. Standing there, I had to wonder if my father really thought I could deceive the king. He was formidable, although I didn’t get any sense of the elements from him. The symbols that fluttered like moths inches from his skin probably had something to do with that. Those same symbols throbbed like embers inside the stone circle.
Still, he watched me. What did he see? A half blood with one wing or his assassin?
I dropped to a knee, pulled my wing in close, and made myself small—easily done when facing a giant. “Baal, King of Hell, Jeremiah, I come to you as an ally not foe. Permit me to speak with you. I believe…” I wet my lips, or tried to, but my heat banished the moisture. “We have a common goal.” Flicking my gaze up, I saw that he still watched. As far as I could tell, he hadn’t moved at all. “To restore the veil.”
Baal laughed, and my little heart stuttered. The depth of the sound, the luscious roll, like honey, swept me up in its magic and wrapped me in serenity. Before I realized I’d moved, I’d dropped to both knees and bowed my head so low I could have curled up on the earth and fallen asleep. Baal’s laughter disarmed me. An urge to throw myself at his feet almost broke me. And he did all that without the elements. No wonder the princes hadn’t yet fought him. He’d probably turned them all to mush as soon as they got within a few strides of the stones.
“I have no allies here, half-blood deceiver.” His words shook the ground like thunder. Baal turned away. His magnificent wings swept the air behind him, blasting me with dust in their wake. Like dragon wings, my awe-muted mind remarked. The symbols took flight—startled like a flock of birds—and resettled into an aura around his marvelous form.
“No allies among the princes,” I said. “But I am not one of them.”
“No? Mother of Destruction, Greed’s Minion, Human Pretender, Daughter of Lust. Half Blood Whore.”
Climbing to my feet, hands fisted at my sides, I growled, “I am not a human pretender.” Baal’s chuckle almost dropped me back to the ground. “Stop that.” He toured the inside of his circle, his stride easy, gait leisurely. He reminded me of a shark cruising around the aquarium. Was that was his sanctum was? A cage? Did the symbols keep him in as well as keeping the princes out? “I came here to help you.”
“And what is it you want in return?” He slid his crocodile eyes to me. The pupil narrowed to a razor-thin vertical slit, slicing through my bravado to reveal a heady dose of fear.
“You know me, Jerry. You helped me. I fought with you on the battlefield.” His tour was bringing him back toward me. With every step, his glare burned, but not with recognition. Did he truly not remember? “Mammon stood beside you. You rallied a demon army—”
“Many demons perished at your whim, Destruction. You slaughter with enviable efficiency. Old titles die. New titles are born. You are the Deathbringer, the Demonslayer. Would you cleanse our kind from this land?” He let the question hang in the air before saying, “You have it in you to rule. The netherworld listens when destruction talks.”
An odd sense of pride swelled inside me. “Perhaps, but I don’t want to. I don’t want any of this.”
“What do you want?” He stopped before me. Two great upright stones stood sentinel beside him.
What did I want? The veil restored. Boston to go back to the way it was before the netherworld poisoned it. I wanted to go home, to kick back and watch sports with Ryder. I wanted to catch a movie with Stefan. To paint my nails outlandish colors with Lacy. I wanted a life, a real life, not one manufactured by Adam and the Institute and certainly not the life of a mass-murderer in the netherworld. “I want to be free. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. My life is a cage like your stones. We are not meant for cages, you and I.”
Baal knelt on one knee on the earth between the stones and leaned closer. He fanned his great wings behind him to maintain his balance but didn’t cross the perimeter of the circle. “The veil cannot be permanently restored without a queen by my side.”
Did he mean me? No, I couldn’t. It would mean leaving it all behind. The netherworld wasn’t my home. It never would be. “I… I…” I can’t, but I would. What was my life for that of Earth? Of course I would sacrifice it all. I was human, wasn’t I?
“Not you, Muse.” Baal’s long smile curled into reptilian cheeks. “You are, and will always be, destruction.”
“Oh.”
He huffed a laugh. This one didn’t turn my legs to Jello. “I’ll accept your allegiance, little half blood, but only when you reveal your true reason for being here.”
“The princes think I—“
“Not that. I know they sent you. Their elements linger outside my cage. They believe you more demon than human, but I know otherwise. There is another reason you have come to me besides your heroic motives.”
I blinked up at the King of Hell. His teeth would make short work of my vulnerable mortal hide. He could crush me in one of those hands. His claws would gut me before I could draw my fire. And yet I didn’t get any sense of malevolence from him. I never had. Jerry was one of the good guys. I could trust him. “I need you to bring back Akil.”
Baal lifted his chin and turned his cheek to me, eyeing me with one wide yellow eye. “Deceiver indeed.” He held out a calloused hand. Claw tips glinted. Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly. I didn’t hesitate. The time for hesitations had been back in the motel room when Ryder had asked me if I was returning to Boston. I planted my itty-bitty hand in the King of Hell’s palm, let him curl his huge claws round my forearm, and stepped inside his circle.
Chapter 17
“What is this?” My teeth made quick work of the chargrilled meat.
“Scorsi.” Jerry reached into the spit-roasted carcass we’d propped over a campfire. Night had gobbled up the land quickly. Beyond the stone circle, demons called and cried in the dark.
“Scorsi? Ugh.” Something Stefan had once said came hurtling back to me. “Don’t eat the dark meat. Stefan says it’s poisonous.” I eyed my drumstick warily.
“I cut the dark out. Don’t worry. I didn’t agree to your allegiance only to poison you.” Jerry chuckled. He did that a lot. But in his human form, as he was now, the effect was muted. He’d packed all of his kingly demon-self into the pro-wrestler body and tucked himself in tight with the all over body tats. He wa
sn’t naked—I’d seen enough of the ‘male form’ to last a lifetime—and wore patched leather pants with a coat. It reminded me of how my brother had worn demon-skin garments, but his had been perfect, as though he’d taken great care to skin his enemies and clothe himself in their remains. I shivered. Even as a fire demon, my brother had the power to chill me to the bone. But he was gone. Nobody had locked his soul with theirs.
Around us, the glyphs throbbed inside each stone monolith, similar to how the same markings had covered the throne room in Mammon’s fortress. As soon as I’d crossed the outer fringes of Jerry’s sanctum, the elements vanished. The air thinned. Had I wanted to, I could have worn my human skin and would have been fine. “What is this place? The stones, the symbols, what does it all mean?”
“Control,” Jerry replied, without looking up. He tore a leg off the roasted Scorsi and cracked it open like a lobster claw, revealing pale flesh inside. “I created these designs, long ago when our worlds were young, and I had a queen by my side. Those you see here subdue the elements. Others amplify them. The ones I wear protect me from attack.”
“They move.”
His eyes flicked to me. “They respond to power. The greater the power, the more they must realign to find a balance.”
“At the table in Mammon’s throne room, the glyphs responded to me.”
Jerry took a bite and chewed slowly. His gaze drifted. “That table, the throne room, the fortress, they are powerful focal points for chaos energies. They are as ancient as I am. Those symbols—the ones embedded inside that throne room—were my first. The fortress belonged to me. My queen and I…” He blinked and seemed to ground himself back in the moment. “I ruled from that chamber.” He shrugged a massive shoulder. “Control responds to chaos. You are a beast of chaos, more so than most. The symbols were likely attempting to balance your chaos with their control.” He lifted his hand. “That is how we must restore the veil. With balance. Chaos and control, united.” He fixed his gaze on me. “Tell me about Mammon, about…Akil. How is it you are infused with his soul?”
Ties That Bind: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 5) Page 10