I try to control my temper at my own stupidity for allowing my need for her to pull me under her spell. I release my grip on her, even though I know we’re being watched. I need to stop the intimacy jumping between us, quickly.
When I step back, Hope reaches for her swollen, parted lips, softly brushing her fingers over them.
“We have an audience,” I say huskily, peering deep into her serene eyes.
After a moment, she nods with a genuine understanding—we’ve taken the charade too far. She inhales and releases a breath, composing herself while I stare at her flushed cheeks and her pouty lips.
“Apologies for our earlier suspicion, my Lord,” Tisiphone replies.
“What my sister is saying, is that it is our job to ques—”Allecto starts.
“It’s not your station to doubt Prince Stolas,” Lev seethes. “Or his chosen one.”
“Of course. Apologies, my Lord,” Allecto cowers. “And my Lady.”
“Enjoy your visit to the City of Weeping,” Tisiphone offers, and the sisters morph into a throng of dragonflies, turning and twisting as one, climbing higher into the air before they switch back and perch themselves atop the gates.
I tug Hope’s hand forward with my own, which she is gripping like it’s a lifeline, and we pick up our pace. Lev and Avi match my strides, and Hope stumbles between us.
“Let’s not keep Hendrix waiting,” I bark out, still shaken by what I felt.
Once we’re in the city, I look over my shoulder at Lev, letting him know I’m about to release my anger on Hope, setting her straight. I am a dark soul; she is divine. She isn’t allowed to touch me without permission. Ever. No matter how amazing her lips feel pressed against mine. It’s forbidden.
He dips his chin and stops walking; Avi following his lead.
The muscles in my jaw clench, and I tighten my hold on Hope’s hand before swinging her around so that we’re alone in an alley, out of sight. Her eyes widen in surprise and then squint with fury at my sudden forcefulness. Closing the gap between us, I push her until her back hits the wall. Hope’s focus is hard on me.
Ignoring her icy glare, I hold my arms up to either side, caging her in. “I understand you are human and don’t realize the effects of your actions in this realm, but, if you ever touch me again without my permission, I will—”
“You’ll what, my Lord?” she snaps back.
Oddly, hearing my title roll off her lips—even sarcastically—stirs my desire for her even more. I really need to put an end to this. She’s human. A lesser being. I lean in, towering over her five-foot-eight frame.
“I’m waiting.” She pushes at my chest and I don’t budge.
“This isn’t the earth realm. You can’t do whatever you want. Here, there are consequences when orders are disobeyed, or you touch me without my approval.”
“I don’t belong to your world. Your rules don’t apply to me.” Her chin rises.
Avi cringes, entering the alley. “Hope—” she says quickly, but I cut her off with a flick my hand.
I lean into Hope so that my face is close to hers, my lips touching her cheek as I speak. “You belong to the dark souls. In and out of the Circles, my word is final. The next time you touch me without asking, you won’t like the outcome, sweetheart.”
Hope’s eyes never leave mine, understanding crossing her face. “I just saved your demon ass, and if you threaten me again, my Lord, it’s you who won’t like the outcome.”
My body presses her into the wall so hard, she gasps. Our breathing is labored as we both stare each other down.
After a few moments, Hope hits at my chest. “Get off me.”
My tattoos are lighting up like a fucking Christmas tree with my erratic emotions. “Learn to follow my lead. Challenging me here could get you killed,” I snarl.
She falls silent as I push off the wall and grab her hand with more force than before.
Lev and Avi fall back into step with us.
“You’re not at all what I expected,” Lev says to Hope.
“And what did you expect?” she asks.
“I don’t know . . . whiny. Weak. I thought you’d cry more,” he replies, lost in thought.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hope counters ruefully.
“You should,” Avi interjects. “He doesn’t give them out too often.”
“Enough chatter,” I snap.
“Demons don’t believe in taxis?” Hope throws out offhandedly.
“Normally, we teleport, if that’s one of our gifts,” Avi answers. “Or fly. Or jump.”
“Why do they call this place the City of Weeping?”
“The crystal is made from angel tears,” I answer.
Without warning, Hope yanks my hand hard, stopping all movement.
Turning, I question her with an annoyed look. “Did I not just bark at you and let you know I’m in charge?”
“Angel tears?” she asks, as if I’ve said something extraordinary.
“Whenever a soul turns dark, an angel sheds a tear. The teardrop descends to the underworld to protect the soul from the tortures that await it,” Avi adds.
Hope waves around the city. “Then why are they here?”
“My father ordered Hendrix to collect them before the tears entered his gates. It’s why the water in the cave is so pure and blue. If you remove the tear from the pool, it crystalizes, losing its protection ability. After a while, Hendrix began to use the liquid to build the City of Weeping,” I snarl, frustrated at having to explain. “And his Crystal Palace.”
Hope looks around with sadness. “All those souls are without divine protection because of your father?” she inquires, sounding nervous.
“He’s the Devil, Hope. There is no divine protection from Lucifer in the Circles.”
“That’s so sad.” Her grief is genuine.
“They made their choice. Contrary to popular belief, no one from the Circles coerced or tricked them. No one offered or promised them anything in return for alliance. It was their own selfishness and greed that did it. The price they paid for having free will and the ability to decide for themselves.”
Hope’s accusatory gaze meets mine. “Sometimes mistakes are made. A soul shouldn’t be defined by darkness or light. Not everything is definitive. Even good people make bad choices on occasion. That shouldn’t punishable by torture and suffering.”
“Where I come from, it is.”
“Then by your own words, I have the free will to decide not to go with you.”
“No, you don’t,” I growl out, tired of her defiance.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because you’ve already chosen to align with the Circles.”
Hope releases a bark of a laugh. “That kiss was for show, it wasn’t a promise of marriage.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snap back, annoyed that she brought up the kiss again.
“Then when did I say I’d be part of your . . . demon’s den?”
“When you chose me. That night in front of the piano at Shadowbrook.”
Wrinkles appear in between her brows as she searches her memory. A moment later, her face pales and her furious eyes meet mine again. “I didn’t—that isn’t . . .” she fumbles.
“You did. And your soul now belongs to the Circles,” I confirm. “And me.”
“What did you do?” she shouts and lunges.
Before she can reach me, Lev wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her back.
“You had no right,” she seethes, fighting Lev’s grip. “You tricked me.”
I shrug. “I had little to do with it. You came to me. You chose, not me.”
“You are evil!” she spits out.
Pissed off at myself for my actions, I get into her face, while Lev pins her arms to her sides so she can’t jerk out of his grip.
“I am the Devil’s son, Hope. What the fuck did you expect?”
BLOOD AND WATER
Hope
I’M SEETHING. I’VE HONESTL
Y NEVER been as angry at myself, or mad at another being, as I am at Stone in this very moment.
“When I said I chose you, I meant you! I wanted to get to know you. I didn’t promise myself to your father or the Circles,” I voice, struggling against Lev’s grip. “Or you for that matter!”
“Then you should have been more specific,” Stone retorts with a cocky air.
“I hate you,” I state breathlessly, ceasing my efforts to be free of Lev.
Stone looks at me in disgust. “Hate me later. Right now, we need to seek the counsel of Hendrix, before I change my mind and hand you over to my father without concern for your safety or well-being.”
Lev releases his hold on me, and I angrily shrug away from him.
“I thought not protecting me would be the end of your existence,” I snap back.
“Which right now, would be an easier fate than being stuck here with you.”
“All right, guys,” Lev steps between us. “Let’s all take a breather here, shall we?”
“FINE!” Stone and I both shout out at the same time.
“See? You’re already on the same page,” Avi beams.
We trail Lucifer Junior for about an hour or so, until we get to a medieval-looking castle.
“We’re here,” Stone announces in an aggravated tone.
“Fantastic.” I’m still annoyed, and step around him, stomping toward the doors.
“What are you going to do, sweetheart? Just knock and invite yourself in?” he asks.
“I’m sorry, is that not allowed either, my Lord?”
“Hope,” Avi speaks up. “Hendrix is a guardian. There is protocol for calling upon him.”
“A guardian of what?” I drop my tone, shoving my temper back.
“The souls of the second Circle,” Stone answers.
“The second Circle? Now you’re telling me there is more than one?”
“This one is known as limbo. The souls here are awaiting judgment,” Avi explains.
“Hendrix decides which souls are sent to which Circle, indefinitely,” Lev adds.
Gazing around this realm, I notice that it’s empty. Other than the creepy sisters we met at the beginning of this journey, there isn’t a person, or being, in sight. The city is desolate.
“Where are they all?” I pose on a murmur. “The souls?”
“You don’t see them?” Avi asks, confused.
I look around again but come up empty. “No.”
Avi and Lev share a side glance, causing me to lift my gaze to Stone.
He’s studying me with a fascinated expression, like he’s never seen anyone or anything like me before. Then, the gentle look vanishes; his expression turns from soft to icy as he throws a glare filled with raging hate at me.
“She can’t see them because there is still divinity in her soul,” he states with disgust.
“What does that mean?” I cross my arms and wait for him to continue.
Stone clamps his jaw together and pivots on his heels, storming closer to the doors.
I pinch my lids together, fighting through my anger. “Fine, don’t answer me.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Lev rubs at the tension between his eyes. “I’m not sure what is worse to endure; the two of you fighting, or watching you grope each other like a couple of horny teenagers. Witnessing both hurts my head and stomach.”
“Ready?” Avi asks Stone, redirecting the conversation.
He nods, slowly stepping forward to the entrance and placing both hands flat on the door. The deep scarlet color projects his brands onto the door. The patterns swirl and glow in outlines as he transfers them. I imagine his tattoos are brilliant and glowing under his clothing.
“Tutti coloro che hanno scelto di entrare viaggio attraverso I legni scuri a cercare la guida del guardino delle anime oscure,” Stone chants.
“What’s he saying?” I whisper to Avi.
Lev leans over and speaks quietly in my ear. “That you should learn Italian.”
I tilt my head, narrowing my gaze at him, which causes Lev to smirk wildly. “I thought demons spoke Latin, not Italian?”
“Our kind speak both. Though, we prefer Italian. It’s sexier,” Lev purrs.
Moments later, the heavy double doors glide open and Stone glares back at me. He waves his hand dramatically, presenting the castle’s entryway.
I take a step into the expansive, gleaming entry hall and Stone places his hand at the small of my back, guiding me in. Once we’ve fully entered, the doors slam shut, causing me to startle and yelp. A hand slips over my mouth, and arms pull me back against a solid chest. Heat radiates off it, pushing through my clothes into my back, warming me. Without a fight, I fall submissively into his embrace.
“Shh,” Stone whispers close to my ear, keeping his hand locked onto my mouth. “This castle is on sacred ground. You must enter and exit composed and calm. Do you understand?” His lips graze my earlobe as he speaks and pulls me tighter to him. “Do not scream.”
At his closeness, a twinge of comfort and lust runs through my veins. I nod, and when I do, the heat from his presence moves away. The more space between us, the colder it is, but it’s better than throwing myself at him in an unexplainable form of wanton behavior.
We step into a large foyer and my attention is immediately drawn to the elegant, arched ceiling, stretching so high it appears to reach the heavens. In the middle of the quartz hallway is a cylindrical tube linking the ceiling to the floor. In it, a glowing blue liquid descends from the sky, falling into the ground. I feel a tug of sadness at my heart, knowing the water source is divine tears.
Thousands of dangling strands adorned with lit crystals hang from the ceiling, acting as chandeliers and swaying elegantly in the cool breeze that floats through the room.
As we make our way down the long corridor, I study the alcoves on either side of the aisle. Seated within them are bleached-faced creatures, concealed by hooded cloaks.
They don’t move or speak. Only their blank, sallow eyes follow our movements.
“Those are the Albino monks,” Stone speaks in a low voice, moving closer to me.
As annoyed as I was with him earlier, something in me has changed. His nearness is welcome—wanted even. He’s become my lifeline as I walk through this unfamiliar realm filled with unknown creatures and strange surroundings.
“This is the Hall of Judgment and the monks are the adjudicators.”
My eyes slide over the brethren. “Do they work for your father too?”
“They’re secular; their rulings are not driven by the divine or dark souls.”
“So, they’re like a court jury? Judging souls? Based on what information?”
“A soul must take this walk before meeting with Hendrix for their final judgment. The brothers’ skin is translucent because as a soul passes by them, it will transfer its aura into the monks to be read. Judgments are sent telepathically to Hendrix, who then has final say whether a condemned soul will be granted forgiveness, or suffer for all eternity in the Circles.” Stone’s voice is hushed, as we walk through the frigid, hallowed chamber.
I stop before we ascend the staircase and catch Stone’s eyes. “What if they’re wrong?”
He appears bemused. “The monks are never wrong.” Then he exhales, annoyed. “Speak freely, Vassago.”
“Where the hell have you been?” His brother’s voice bounces around the crystal walls.
“Father’s furies had some concerns, which are no longer,” Stone replies.
Vassago comes into view. “He’s waiting. Impatiently, mind you. Follow me.”
We climb the hundred or so stairs and shadow Vassago to a draped arch. Once we stop, I try to pull air into my lungs and place a hand over the throbbing in my side.
“We should work on her endurance,” Vassago throws out, displeased at my state.
“She’s human,” Lev replies. “Most humans can only endure a few moments of exposure to the realm. Since she’s still breathi
ng, I’d say the mortal is ahead of the game. No?”
I observe the two demons, trying to decide if that was a compliment or insult.
“No mortal would dare come here of their own accord, not unless they have a death wish,” Stone adds, motioning his chin toward his brother. “Open the curtains,” he demands.
Vassago grabs the gold, silk handles and yanks open the dark green, velvet curtains, revealing an oval-shaped assembly room, decorated in deep olive and golden hues.
In the middle of the room, more crystal strands dangle from a circular medallion adorning the ceiling. Beneath the faux chandelier, a circular oriental rug covers the dark marble floor, mirroring the circular ornament above it. Both highlight an intricately gilded throne covered in hunter-green velvet, matching the room’s swags.
Three large arches frame the back of the chamber. “Where do those lead?” I ask.
“The two flanked by translucent silk open to other realms,” Stone whispers.
“And the one framing the set of golden doors?”
He thinks about it before he speaks out of the side of his mouth. “Some doors just lead to darkness.”
Not wanting to touch that with a ten-foot pole, I focus on the rest of the room. There are matching medieval sofas positioned to either side of the golden cathedra—enough seating for ten beings.
Alone, I walk toward one of the open porticos, to explore and step onto a balcony, as inkiness surrounds me. An oversized planet spins slowly in the sky. I can almost reach out and touch it.
“You’re more . . . human, than I expected,” an amused voice says from behind me.
I turn and face a fair-skinned, middle-aged man staring at me. He runs a hand through his short blond hair and my gaze runs the length of him, taking in his light gray suit and crisp white shirt. The stranger gives me a kind smile as he makes his way to my side. We both turn and face the dark abyss in silence.
“That is Earth.” He points to the massive ball in the sky. “A realm I watch over.”
“It looks darker than Earth should,” I reply in disbelief, challenging him.
The planet doesn’t match the science photos taken from space I’m used to seeing.
Stolas: A Dark Soul Series Novel Page 11