Hell Bent

by Cate Corvin

  The darkness around Azazel, that empty black void that was nothing like the pure, starlit night he held inside him, began to dissipate.

  The thorns pulled out of his body. He let out a single small sound when one of the thorns slid between his ribs, but he healed almost instantly. She would’ve killed a weaker demon with those spear-like points.

  The star at the apex of my spine stopped burning, and the pain faded away.

  When her darkness receded entirely, he brushed away the drying blood and smeared the paint on his torso.

  “Well, do you still desire this creature?” Ereshkigal asked. She held up my wings like a trophy. “Small, weak, and ruined as she is?”

  Azazel raised his head. I’d never seen so black a look on his face.

  Not when the Nephilim had attacked me outside Acheron, nor when Satan had infiltrated the safety of my stronghold.

  Not even when Vyra had been taken.

  His lip curled. He looked at Ereshkigal with complete disdain. Worse than that—like she was nothing at all.

  I saw his throat work as he swallowed. That dangerous glint of pale light was still in his eyes.

  He covered the distance between us with even strides, turning that cold gaze on me, and Ereshkigal shifted in place, her smile widening.

  I looked up at him. He was my stars and shadows, my moonlit night. He was mine and I was his. Ereshkigal couldn’t take that from us, no matter their bloodline.

  I wasn’t going to let him pick me up off the ground like something to be pitied. Even with my wings taken, I was still his equal. He wouldn’t have chosen me otherwise.

  My body moved awkwardly as I rose from the floor. Everything was off-balance without the weight on my back.

  Large hands caught me when I pitched forward.

  Azazel exhaled shadows as he looked into my face. “She is neither weak nor ruined.”

  I didn’t realize how large that small sliver of doubt inside me had been until he said that.

  A shaky breath of relief escaped me, and then I saw it.

  Since he’d been brought into Kur, I’d only seen him in the paint and simple clothes of the Irkallans. His suit with its raven-skull lapels was gone, as well as the feather I’d pinned into one of them.

  But he wore it. It dangled from an earring shoved hastily through an earlobe, blending in with the inky curls of his hair.

  She hadn’t seen it, hidden amongst his hair, but he’d worn it this whole time.

  “I knew you were in there,” I whispered, reaching up to cup his face. “I knew it.”

  Azazel didn’t smile. Lines of rage were still etched in his pale, flawless features, but he was entirely the Azazel I knew and loved. He pulled me against him, hugging me tightly…

  And then he pushed me away. I stumbled, still ungainly, and reached out to grip the back of Ereshkigal’s throne to hold myself upright.

  Azazel rounded on Ereshkigal, his skin shimmering. Shadows seemed to spill from every pore until he was the creature of shadows, twelve feet high, nothing but electric eyes in a column of smoke.

  Ereshkigal looked up at him, my wings dangling forgotten in her hand. Her smile had slipped away, leaving shock and dismay behind. “Have you gone mad, Prince? Kur is your birthright. This is your future, not that small speck of a thing.”

  “Do you remember your sister’s last words before you ate her heart?” Azazel asked. His voice crackled like a fire, utterly inhuman. “Love will be your undoing.”

  He advanced on Ereshkigal, right through my blood. The whirling shadows around him picked up droplets of it and scattered it across the floor in a fine spray.

  The Queen tossed my wings aside like so much trash. “Azazel. See reason and look.” She pointed upwards, at the strangely shadowed body on the wall, the one who had once been a god of night. “I killed Nakir for his transgression. I ate his soul. You cannot believe you are more than what your father was—not with your dilute blood.”

  “There is nothing dilute about me,” Azazel said. Everything was dim, as though he were sucking in even the light. “I am the son of a star and the god of night. The blood ran true, but you were always too blind to see.”

  Ereshkigal’s eyes widened fractionally as she peered up at him. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of the Queen’s fear.

  It was a glorious thing to witness, no matter what I’d lost.

  “Time is a wheel,” Azazel told her. His mouth, or what passed for one, dropped open to reveal the void inside him. “Your soul will be eaten, as you have eaten others.”

  I’d only seen him consume a soul once.

  This time, I watched avidly, praying that every second of her last moments was full of terror.

  Azazel leaned over Ereshkigal, the black hole inside him sucking at the soul inside her.

  She quailed, staring at the last of her bloodline as he reached out to hook his claws into her. To eat her alive.

  Then she exploded.

  Ereshkigal’s young, beautiful face tore apart, ripping away as the true face of the goddess shredded through the mask.

  There was desiccated flesh, blackened, mummified, and crawling with insects. Her hair was gone, replaced with writhing tendrils.

  Ereshkigal lashed out at Azazel, tearing out of the remains of her physical body. The two deities of darkness flew at each other in a fury of claws and teeth, each trying to rip the other’s soul away.

  I realized I was shrieking for Azazel to kill her. To eat her.

  Arms circled around me and easily pulled me away. I struggled until I recognized the hands on me, the bodies putting themselves in front of me like a living shield.

  “Take her and fly,” Belial snarled at Lucifer.

  “Fly where?” Lucifer snapped back at him. “They’re in the way of the balcony. I’m not risking one of them taking her soul.”

  I tried to push between them, my heart pounding in my throat. They easily pushed me back. “We need to help Azazel.”

  My still-tender back ran into something hard, and I winced.

  The Irkallan guards blocked the exit from the throne room. I looked down at the point of a dagger that was dangerously close to punching through my chest.

  “You stay until Her Majesty decides otherwise,” the Irkallan said, utterly emotionless.

  “We stay because I decide,” I spat, and managed to slither around Lucifer.

  Belial reached out and grabbed me, holding me against his chest. The smell of spices drowned out the scent of blood as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “This is beyond us. They’re fighting for their souls, angel. You don’t want to go near them, and there’s nothing we can do for Azazel unless we want him to eat ours by mistake.”

  “We can’t leave him to it alone,” I breathed, as pain flared in the star mate mark. Ereshkigal’s rotting form had landed a solid blow on his form, even though he was mostly fog and shadows now.

  Claws emerged from the tornado and reached out for her, swiping over her chest. Bits of gray mist clung to his sharp fingertips—small pieces of her soul, but not enough to destroy her.

  “We can and we will.” Lucifer’s voice was sharp and strained. “He’s close to becoming a Prime power, Melisande. Not even we can stand against that at his strongest.”

  My muscles felt weak as I watched Azazel overtake the Queen.

  His next strike missed her but hit the throne. It crumbled into pieces.

  He didn’t stop. Azazel drove her back towards the balcony, his battle cry the continuous roar of an oncoming storm, a tornado of rushing wind.

  Ereshkigal backed to the edge, hissing at him. She spoke in a language that sounded ancient, so old it was likely no one else alive could understand it.

  Azazel roared something back and plunged his claws towards her. Shadows billowed out to fill the room.

  I blinked, straining to see through it and break free of my men’s grasp.

  Lucifer’s hand tightened on my arm as the shadows faded.

  Ereshkigal’s h
and was wrapped around Azazel’s throat. The primordial monster of death and despair was laughing, her gasps as dry as a grave. She towered over Azazel, blotting out his stars with darkness.

  “I am the Queen, you stupid boy. The Eater of Souls and the end of all.”

  She squeezed, and Azazel’s shadows dimmed, becoming lighter. They were a pale gray mist, his stars fading to ash.

  His claws burrowed into her chest, shredding at her soul, refusing to go down without a last stand.

  Then I realized… he wasn’t fighting to get away. He was trying to climb into her.

  Ereshkigal opened her mouth wide, and swallowed him and his shadows whole.

  18

  Melisande

  My knees trembled beneath me, threatening to give out. Only Lucifer and Belial kept me upright.

  Azazel was gone.

  Vanished into the void, swallowed by the final and most absolute abyss.

  Ereshkigal still sat on the balcony, her enormous mouth opening and closing as she swallowed the last of him. She settled back on her haunches, her form growing more indistinct, looking like a giant toad who’d eaten an overly large meal.

  “She ate him.” My mind was reeling. He’d thrown himself into her, but… why? What could a suicide run possibly do for him?

  “Melisande, stand up,” Lucifer murmured.

  Ereshkigal’s indistinct form rose up, a ball of torn wisps hovering in the air. They swirled around her, condensing into her usual, solid form.

  Her clawed feet hit the floor first, followed by her long strands of black hair. They fluttered behind her, clinging to her pale skin like webs.

  She looked at me with pure hate.

  “He was worth a thousand of you,” she said bitterly. “And he still chose you over his inheritance.”

  I locked my knees, forcing myself to stay on my feet. “You didn’t have to eat his soul, you spoiled bitch—you absolute cunt—”

  The insults spilled out of me as Lucifer held me back.

  Ereshkigal just watched me as calmly as though she had just eaten dinner, licking her fingertips. Her claws cut her tongue, but she healed instantly.

  “Put her in the cage until she can behave like a civilized human,” she said. “We have guests arriving.”

  A human. That’s all I amounted to now, and Azazel was gone from the world.

  I wasn’t sure how much more I could lose and still hold on.

  The guards surged from behind, but before they could take me, Lucifer dropped his voice. “What do you feel, Melisande?”

  What did I feel? Utterly hopeless.

  The guards lowered the cage and opened the door, herding me away from my men. I stepped into it willingly, feeling a thousand miles away from the rest of the world.

  They closed the door and it rose in the air. The slight swaying made me feel a little seasick.

  I could no longer do something as simple as jump out of the cage, not without risking breaking bones. I supposed I would heal easily enough now, but what was the point, when I was completely earthbound?

  I wrapped my fingers around the bars, watching as the guards backed Lucifer and Belial against a wall.

  A small flame of anger kindled deep inside me, cutting through the numb emptiness.

  Or… it wasn’t all numb, was it? Their bonds were strong and intact, simmering with banked fury.

  I felt a darkness in my mind, spreading like ink through water.

  Coming through Azazel’s star.

  My breath caught as I met Lucifer’s silver eyes. He nodded slightly. He’s close to becoming a Prime power, he’d said.

  Azazel was banking on taking her power for himself. He’d thrown himself into her for that purpose alone.

  There was still a ray of hope, however faint. I could deal with the loss of my wings as long as they were all still alive. As long as Azazel came back.

  He’d deliberately entered the abyss out of love for me, because love would be her undoing.

  My hands were shaking. I pulled them away from the bars and tucked them in my lap, shivering where I sat.

  Below me, Ereshkigal settled on her shattered throne. From this height, I saw the demons of Kur on the streets outside. Some of them openly stared at the Queen’s balcony, some of them muttering to themselves.

  How often did they get to see their Queen nearly lose?

  I reached for Azazel through the bond, but even though it remained intact, he was too far away. The void the Queen held inside herself was right there, and yet… not in this world.

  Eat her alive, Azazel. Eat her from the inside out.

  The demons below were crowding out of the streets, ducking into houses and shops to get out of the way of a phalanx of Irkallan guards.

  Behind them marched a pack of demons, their ankles in chains that clanked and echoed.

  Slaves, brought in just like we’d been brought into Kur. A line of chattel for the meat grinder.

  Even from a distance, I recognized the slaver Damuzid and the harsh set of his shoulders. He’d denied me water, threatened to whip me, to rip my teeth out… I still had his name marked on my heart. I’d kill him even if I couldn’t fly.

  He shoved one of the slaves ahead of him on the winding path into the depths of Irkalla. A lock of pale hair escaped the slave’s dark hood.

  My stomach twisted. Hair like moonglow, just like Vyra. I hoped the new slave wouldn’t become one of Ereshkigal’s blank-eyed handmaidens.

  Then I caught sight of the tall slave in the back.

  The sharp, foxlike features, the cunning smile he gave to the Irkallan goading him.

  My stomach sank somewhere near my toes. It wasn’t possible.

  The shatter of glass rang through the room. Someone had dropped an empty wine bottle on the arena floor, which was currently dark and silent.

  “Is there any more?” Michael called down to the Queen. “I’m thirsty. I’ll wail all night if you let me dry out up here.”

  My heart was pounding so hard I felt light-headed. Michael was still here. If those slaves were who I thought… maybe he’d have a better view.

  Please God, let me be wrong.

  Ereshkigal made a disgusted sound. “Serve him, human. Let him see what will become of him if he displeases me.”

  He was already in a cage. I wasn’t sure what else he could possibly do to displease her. But he hadn’t seen my wings sawn off, and maybe that was what he needed to take the Queen’s rage more seriously.

  The guards let me out of my birdcage. I had to actively think about how to walk without leaning forward, overcompensating for the lack of weight on my back. It was disturbing, my muscles clamoring for something to hold up like a phantom limb.

  I hurried as quick as I could to the wine room and paused in front of the selection.

  Michael deserved something nice just for annoying her. I grabbed one of the bottles from the top, the ones made with grapes from a long-dead vineyard, the sort of wine with a taste the world would never drink again.

  It was a small, petty revenge, but it was all I had to my name right now.

  I hid the bottle in my skirt as I crossed back through the throne room, where the handmaidens were sweeping up the shattered bones of her chair and leaving no trace of her fight with Azazel behind.

  Lucifer and Belial tensed as I passed, but I waved a hand at my side, telling them to stay put.

  The worst had already been done. There was no point in risking their lives, too.

  Several guards lowered a gangway for me as Michael’s cage came drifting down to the arena floor, the broken glass crunching beneath it.

  I was very careful as I crossed the narrow plank. Very, very careful.

  It was one of the few times I’d ever felt genuinely afraid of heights.

  Michael was lying on his back in the cage, his arms behind his head, but he did a double-take and sat up when he saw me and my newfound lack of wings.

  There was a deep pity in his golden eyes, followed by an undercurrent of ange
r.

  I stepped on the solid metal of the arena floor with a feeling of deep relief and knelt beside his cage. “Don’t say a damn thing about it,” I told him in a low voice. I picked slowly at the wax over the cork, buying myself time.

  “Ereshkigal isn’t watching,” he replied, just as quietly. “Slaves are coming in. What just happened? I couldn’t see a damn thing with that overhang blocking the view.”

  I realized he’d only dropped the bottle so she’d lower him, and he could get the news. Crafty archangel.

  I slid a thumbnail under the wax, prying it away as slowly as possible. “There’s a lot happening.” I quickly condensed my theory about Satan and Nergal for him, along with the transmutation I seemed to be undergoing.

  “Her dead sister seems to be a little too alive for her liking,” I ended bitterly. “Inanna seems to have bound herself to me somehow, and the Queen just took my wings for it. And when Azazel… when Azazel tried to help me, they fought. She swallowed his soul. Not just his soul… all of him.”

  It was almost impossible to get the words out without tripping over them. Even with the bond unbroken, I didn’t want to accept it as truth.

  Sliver by sliver, the wax peeled away under my nails. Michael’s gaze flicked up to the balcony as I talked, his shoulders tense.

  “Keep holding on, sister,” he told me. “Tascius is coming.”

  I shook my head, swallowing the hard lump in my throat. “I don’t think I want him to come here, Michael. It’d be better if one of us made it away unscathed.”

  “I don’t think you have much choice.” I looked up at him. There was a terrible compassion on his face. “He’s coming for you whether you want it or not. Buck up and be ready when the time comes.”

  “Ready for what?” I asked, trying not to snap at him when he was offering comfort. “What can I possibly do now?”

  Michael reached through the bars of his cage. His rough, calloused hand covered mine where it gripped the stem of the wine bottle. He squeezed gently. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. We don’t make excuses. We do what has to be done.”