by R. K. Ryals
"She committed the ultimate sin against God," I said.
I didn't have to elaborate. Sophia had more than allied herself with a Demon. She had loved him, had become his lover. Hadn't she?
Marcas looked down suddenly, his face only inches from mine, and I watched as his eyes darkened slightly.
"Not entirely," he said.
I stared. What was he saying? That they had never been lovers? After being together who knew how long? Seriously? Not that I promoted sex, but I knew he wasn't a virgin. He had implied as much, and I just couldn't see a Demon abstaining.
"You two were never lovers?" I asked, my incredulity making me bold.
Marcas arched a brow, his face blank despite the gesture, making the movement somewhat odd.
"My past is not up for discussion, Blainey."
I didn't falter. My eyes stayed glued to his. For some reason, I just couldn't let it go.
"You weren't, were you?"
He didn't move, his gaze staring unblinking into mine, and I wondered briefly if I had gone too far. Maybe I shouldn't press the issue.
"Were you?" I whispered instead, my mouth plainly ignoring the messages from my brain.
His face moved closer, his breath fanning softly against my cheeks. He always smelled faintly of a storm, the way the air smelled right before it begins to thunder—fresh, woodsy, and electric. It made the hair stand up on my arms.
"No," he breathed, and I gulped in air. The oxygen felt good, and I realized I had been holding my breath. Was it that important to me?
"How long were you together?"
"In human time, fifty years."
I was flabbergasted. Fifty years! Most human couples didn't make it that long! Fifty years! And the relationship stayed innocent? It just didn't fit. After being raised in a world where sex usually happened after the first date, I was somewhat jaded. And Demons were supposed to be the worst our world had to offer in terms of monsters.
"Why?" I asked, my hand flying to my mouth.
I really shouldn't go there. Marcas swallowed, and I watched as his Adam's apple rose and fell, his face still too close to mine.
"Because that would have damned her," he answered finally. And I suddenly knew exactly how their relationship had gone. His answer was enough. He had fallen in love with an Angel who had never truly been able to commit, her loyalties so divided she would not risk one love for another. In the end, her salvation mattered more. And, although I wanted to fault her for it, wanted to hate her, I couldn't.
My eyes moved to Marcas' lips, and I wondered how Sophia had done it, how she had fought her own feelings in order to make the righteous choice.
"It had to have cost her a lot," I whispered, mostly to myself.
"I wouldn't know," Marcas bit out, his tone hard, and I knew he was warning me to end the conversation. My stomach was twisted into knots, my hands clammy as I continued to study his face. He was a Demon, a monster. He had killed, he had taken souls, and yet . . . he had loved.
"And you?" I asked him.
He closed his eyes, and I let my head fall, my gaze moving back to the sky ahead.
"What did it cost you?"
I knew without looking that Marcas was tightening his jaw, and I felt awful for having caused the tension I could now feel vibrating through his body. I was crossing an invisible threshold that wouldn't allow me to turn back. I wanted to move away, but the carpet had me afraid, the height too daunting. I fought with my phobia, my body attempting to separate from his slowly when I suddenly felt his arms go around my waist. It surprised me, and I froze.
"Enough, Blainey. Sleep. You need to sleep," he said, and I leaned back against him once more, my shock making me more compliant.
His chin came to rest on my head, and I closed my eyes, my astonishment turning into something liquid and warm in my gut.
An unreadable Demon with the ability to love. What had it cost him? His arms tightened around me, and I knew he was aware of my train of thought. I shoved the conflicting emotions away, weariness once again taking its place.
The darkness was instant, the sleep deep. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't dream.
Chapter 6
Hell. The name strikes terror in all who hear it. Pits of fire. Everlasting damnation.
~Bezaliel~
The instant I awoke, I knew something was wrong.
"I warned you the risks were great," I heard Marcas hiss. His arms were so tight around my waist I struggled somewhat to breathe. What the hell?
"She is dangerous, Marc. We all know it. And yet, despite this, you protect her," Sophia ranted, her voice hushed. I fought the urge to keep my eyes shut, my body desperate to know where we were at. I could tell by my position I was still on the carpet, but why was Sophia on the carpet as well?
"He isn't her only protector, Sophia," I heard Lucas add, and I shifted slightly only to have my body immediately pinned down by Marcas' iron clad arms. He knew I was awake.
"But you were sent by her father, Luke. You don't have to be here. You're doing this out of some sort of misguided sense of loyalty. Marcas chose to protect her. He could end this. He could take her soul."
My heart beat erratically, my eyes ticking with the effort to keep them closed. What was Sophia saying? That she thought I should die?
"You're afraid, Soph," Luke whispered. She laughed softly.
"Of course I'm afraid. Look around you. There are too many of them. We won't win this one."
Her words left me cold. Too many of them? A growl sounded in the distance, and I quit feigning sleep, my fearful curiosity far outweighing my desire to obey Marcas. My eyes shot open to discover both Sophia and Lucas crouching before me, their profiles obvious as their eyes remained riveted on a scene beyond the carpet. I searched the skies and realized they were darker, grayish as if a storm were moving in fast. It seemed a familiar scene to me.
"We can't fight them," Sophia said.
I searched the cloudy area and tensed when another growl reverberated around us, louder this time. Where was it coming from? I squinted, my body drawing unconsciously on the light settled comfortably in my chest. If I could use it to see in the dark, couldn't I use it to see better at other times as well?
"What is it?" I whispered, my timid voice causing both Lucas and Sophia to turn sharply toward me. They glanced at me a moment in silence before looking to Marcas.
I tried sitting up, but Marcas' arm held me still.
"Don't move, Blainey. It's best you don't draw their attention," Marcas murmured against my hair. I froze.
"Whose attention?" I asked through gritted teeth, my jaw clenched together to keep my teeth from chattering. I was so tired of looking afraid.
"The Hellhounds."
The haunting word was enough to drive an imaginary stake straight through my heart. Something told me mixing the word Hell with hound wasn't like mixing ice with cream.
"What . . ." I squeaked, choking on my own words as I struggled to keep quiet. What the devil was a Hellhound?
"They are a type of Demon created by Lucifer. They are guards of Hell, sent out to destroy or retrieve certain souls. They have little intellect except to kill," Lucas answered.
I absorbed this, my mind a chaotic mix of fear and irritation. What had I done to deserve all of this? I found Marcas' hands beneath his jacket and gripped them hard.
"Why does Lucifer want me?" I asked him, my question directed at Marcas despite Lucas' apparent compliant manner. Considering Marcas' heritage, it seemed likely he would know more about these predators of Hell than the fallen Angel, and I wanted the most educated answer.
"He didn't send them. Lilith did. Lucifer is biding his time. Like God, he has no interest in you unless you begin to pose a problem for him. Lucifer is enjoying the show," Marcas said coldly, the irony in his tone obvious.
"They're closing in," Sophia announced as the carpet wobbled dangerously.
Marcas' hand withdrew from mine and came up to cover my mouth as I yelpe
d. Damn it! Why did this have to happen in the air?
"You know what Lilith intends," Lucas said to Marcas as I searched the skies, my eyes wide.
The most horrendous odor infiltrated my nostrils, and I panted against Marcas' hand. Oh God, it was awful! It was worse than anything I had ever smelled before. It smelled like decaying flesh, like death.
"Yes, I know what she intends," Marcas said as Lucas leaned in closer to the two of us.
"You can't let Lilith have her," Lucas warned, his tone dark. I saw his pupils dilate, and I backed into Marcas without meaning too. At that moment, Lucas didn't look like one of the good guys.
"Bide your time, Luke. Or you will get us all killed, including the girl," Marcas countered.
I breathed shallowly against Marcas' hand. What did he mean, bide your time? Did he plan on turning me over to Lilith?
"He's right, Luke," Sophia whispered.
Lucas turned his dilated eyes her way.
"You're one to speak, Sophia. Why are you still here? The ring was your mission. Leaving us here now with the hounds ensures your precious Seal's safety," he accused.
I looked at her. Could she choose to leave? Sophia's lips went white as she forced them together, her eyes searching out Marcas. An unspoken message seemed to pass between them.
"I want the two of them unbound," she told Lucas, her voice quiet. I saw the biting remark Lucas fought to hold back. Even so, the emotions on his face were too plain not to read clearly. Even unbound, you can't have the Demon."
Sophia glared, her face just as readable as Lucas' as she leaned toward him. "Have him, I may not. But neither will the girl." The words were unspoken but so clear, I was sure I was hearing the exchange between the two. Maybe Angels had the ability to mind-speak the same way Demon twins could.
I looked beyond the two bickering Angels, my mind exploring the sky to avoid the emotions in the exchange and would have screamed if Marcas' hand still hadn't been covering my mouth. There in front of us was the largest, most grotesque looking black dog I had ever seen. If werewolves actually existed, this animal would more than dominate them. It was twice the size of any human, its hair standing up straight on its back. The fur seemed razor-sharp, even to the naked eye, as if its black coat were made out of metal. Its claws were the color of midnight and so long and pointed, they looked like small swords rather than nails. Its eyes were a sickly yellow, red streaking through the bile-colored depths as it breathed smoke out of its long, muscular snout. The odor from before was so unbearable now, I gagged against Marcas' hand.
"The girl," it growled, its words audible although its mouth never moved. Smoke continued to bellow from its snout. Marcas eyed the Demon-hound calmly.
"I will escort the girl, Ember. Not you."
"I have my orders."
"And I'm giving you new ones."
The hound's mouth opened just enough to release a small stream of flame. Its yellow eyes glowed, and I knew Marcas' firm command was making it angry. There was insanity in the dog's gaze. It didn't like having to follow orders.
"You are not my master, Young One," it breathed.
Marcas cocked a brow arrogantly, his face a mask of menace that frightened even me.
"Neither is the one you follow now."
The hound dipped its head, a show of obedience despite its sudden curled up lips.
"He allows her our use. Her orders are mine to carry out."
Marcas released my mouth, and I tried gulping in air, coughing with the foulness as I clinged desperately to Marcas' jacket. I felt vulnerable and exposed. And yet, I wanted to kick some ass something awful. Damn every single one of them!
"And you will fulfill your command, Ember. But, you will do it on my terms. I will escort the girl, or we will fight," Marcas ordered. The hound raised its head.
"You will die."
"And you think she wants that?" Marcas asked. "It's better to bring us in alive than to incur her wrath. The choice is yours, Ember. I will fight to the death. You know I fear it not."
The hound sat back on its haunches, and I stared in awe. The sky seemed as solid as the earth to these creatures. What an ability to have! I envied it its fearlessness, its ability to move without the need to fly, its ability to walk in the sky the same way I walked on the ground.
The gray sky around us darkened further as figures started to move in from the distance, more hounds, all with teeth bared. I shrank against the carpet.
"We'll do it your way, Demon. But be on guard," Ember growled.
I looked from Marcas to the Angels, my expression a mixture of astonishment and terror.
"I'm not going with them! You're not seriously giving me to them?" I cried as Marcas stood on the carpet behind me. Without his support, my fear of heights incapacitated me. I was frozen, paralyzed. Lucas stood and faced the hounds.
"I request safe passage to your realm. With it, I request to remain with your prisoner. Under the bounds of neutrality, I trust no harm shall come to me, that I will be allowed to return from the Nether realm unopposed."
The hounds watched the fallen Angel as Sophia arose as well, her pale face beyond the glow even paler as she clenched her hands behind her back. She really was afraid.
"I request the same with the exception that mine be under the bounds of Heaven. Any retribution paid me will be thrice repaid by Heaven," Sophia commanded, her voice strong despite her fear. The hounds began to salivate, almost in anticipation as Ember's yellow eyes narrowed.
"This is a strange request," the dog growled.
Marcas held a palm out to me, and I placed my shaking hand in it. If he wanted me to stand on the carpet, he would need to lift me. My fear held me prisoner.
"We will all go or none," Marcas commanded. The dog's gaze moved to the Demon.
"I cannot promise safe passage."
Marcas was unmoved.
"I can. As the son of Lilith, I can give them what they request. If any harm befalls any who travel with us, then Heaven may have its revenge."
"You know not what you promise," Ember snarled.
Marcas pulled me up, one arm going around my waist as the carpet began to slowly dissolve. My mouth went dry. Could the carpet do that?
"I know exactly what I promise, Ember. It's the reason why you will obey. No one wants to risk war now with the sides so evenly balanced and the Exiles undecided," Marcas countered.
The hound's head lowered, and I knew Marcas had won this verbal war. The carpet was almost invisible now, and I refused to glance downward, my hands coming up to grip Marcas' arms hard.
"Why is the carpet disappearing?" I asked, my voice trembling with unshed tears. Lucas looked back at me, his eyes dark with sympathy.
"God will not allow an artifact of Solomon entrance to Hell."
A sob escaped, and I swallowed it back. I knew Hell was our destination. Listening to the conversation around me had made me more than aware that we were now prisoners of Lilith. She had taken us unaware. How? I had no idea. I had awoken to a nightmare I couldn't escape.
In front of us, the hounds all turned as one in the stormy sky, and behind us, I heard the howls of others who meant to trail us from behind. There was no escape. I didn't know what the hounds were capable of, but it must be a great deal if the Demon and Angels with me were so willing to be taken captive.
A black staircase suddenly appeared in the sky leading down to a black hole that opened up at its base. A portal. I didn't have a good history with portals.
"I can't do this," I whispered.
Marcas' other arm came around me as Lucas turned to look down at me.
"You can, Dayton. The hounds intercepted us. When they are ordered to retrieve, there is no way to know they are there. They are soundless until they are upon you. It is better to surrender and face the one who commanded them than to stand and fight with our numbers so few. You are the daughter of Bezaliel. Walk," Lucas said harshly.
I stared up at him in surprise and found his eyes beseeching mine. He was
right on one count. I was the daughter of an Angel.
With Marcas' support, I followed the hounds and the Angels down the black staircase, my thoughts whirring. I was the daughter of an Angel. Even bound to a Demon, I was the daughter of an Angel.
I was the daughter of an Angel . . . .
I quit walking.
"I won't go with you as a prisoner," I announced.
Marcas nudged me from behind, but I refused to take another step. I was tired of being both Heaven and Hell's sacrificial lamb. Lucas and Sophia turned toward me, their eyes wide as the hounds began to roar. I fought to stay calm.
"Who are you to cross a Hellhound!" Ember cried, his snout suddenly inches away from our group. Fire roared around our feet, and I watched as Marcas, Sophia, and Lucas worked deftly to keep us unharmed. Sweat beaded on my face. And still, I stared ahead, my face determined.
"I am the daughter of Bezaliel, and a bonded servant of the Demon Marcas, son of Lilith. I carry the blood of two races, and I call on both for protection. I call on Heaven, and I call on Hell. I will not be a prisoner. I request an audience with the Demon who seeks me now, but I also request safe passage. I, both Angel and Demon, claim neutrality from both sides. But I also call on both sides. Should I be accosted by either side, Heaven or Hell, retribution may be met thrice over," I cried out over the hounds' roars. My voice wavered slightly.
The call for safe passage had sounded good coming from Lucas and Sophia. I had no idea if the move I was making was the right one, but I was not a puppet. Despite any fears I had, I still owned myself. And I was still the daughter of an Angel. And, because of Damon and my aunt, I also shared blood with Hell. I would not be used.
The air was suddenly quiet, the hounds silent as Ember stepped lightly away, his head raised in defiance. Sophia and Lucas stood tall, their gazes proud. Sophia was a daughter of Heaven. I had called on her side. I had strengthened their position. Lucas was a son of neutrality. By claiming an alliance with the Exiles, I had made them a part of the war. And by calling on Marcas' heritage and his shared blood, I had strengthened his side as well. It was the only thing I knew to do.