Of course, she never imagined she’d be going to meet a demon on the moon, before.
Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she made her way deeper into the tunnel. Unlike the hard lines and cold steel of the exterior rooms, this part of the manor seemed ancient. Twisting patterns and faded runes adorned the jagged walls. The light changed subtly as she walked, and she glanced down. The illumination no longer came from candles. Instead, glowing mushrooms grew along the floor’s edge, and the tarry creosote smell gave way to something earthy and alive.
Ahead of her, the tunnel opened into a large chamber, and a path curved between gray boulders. As she stepped into the hall, her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t so much a chamber as a vast cavern. Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling, their surfaces encrusted with glowing mushrooms.
The path led through the cavern to a thin, stone bridge suspended between two cliffs. No rails, no sides. Just a narrow strip of stone over a vast chasm. Tentatively, she approached the edge. She stepped onto the bridge, her gaze briefly flicking to the stark blackness, the sheer rocky drop into a bottomless abyss.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Maybe this is why Cera wanted to stay behind.
A cold sweat beaded on her forehead, and she took another step forward in her tall heels. No turning back now. A deathly silence hung in the air, broken only by the clacking of her stupid heels over the stone.
If there had ever been a time for running shoes, it was now.
She pulled her gaze away from the abyss, glancing at the ceiling. Bioluminescent mushrooms nestled among glowing indigo crystals. The fungi light refracted through the crystals, bathing the bridge in an otherworldly violet light.
She glanced at the bridge again, so she wouldn’t lose her footing, and her gaze trailed to the abyss. The darkness seemed to beckon her forward, luring her off the bridge. Her stomach swooped, and a strange sort of terror bloomed in the back of her mind. She wasn’t afraid she would fall.
She was afraid she would jump.
She blinked, clearing the disturbing thought from her head. I’ll face forward then, won’t I? A few more careful steps, staring straight ahead, and she cleared the final bit of the bridge, stepping onto a rocky platform. The temperature in this cavern seemed ten degrees cooler than the rest of the hall. She crossed her arms in front of her. She didn’t need “the lord” seeing just how cold she was.
After a few more paces, she paused, her heart skipping a beat.
At the far end sat a figure in a jet-black throne, cloaked in shadows.
Night magic curled in front of the lord’s features, moving like seaweed caught in an invisible current. He exuded power. And pure menace. Here, in front of the lord, the void called to her. That vast abyss, just a few steps away, beckoned her closer, tempting her to jump.
This was no simple demon’s power. This was a god, ancient and wrathful. Nyxobas.
It had been a mistake to come here. As if a corkscrew could protect her from this dark hell.
“Ursula.” The lord’s rough voice boomed through the hall, echoing off the rock.
Fear twisted her gut. She concentrated on straightening her spine. Kester had taught her not to show fear to a demon or god. It only brought out their primal instincts, and the next thing you knew, they were pinning you to the ground, teeth at your throat.
“Why have you brought me here?” She worked to steady her voice.
“You think I wanted one of Emerazel’s dogs here? Like I had any choice in the matter?” His rage thinned the air.
Despite everything she’d learned about showing confidence, she took an involuntary step back.
“I don’t understand.” She was trying to make sense of his words. Nyxobas had struck a deal with Emerazel—he’d been a willing part of the bargain. She was supposed to stay with him for six months of every year. “If you didn’t want me, why did you make a deal with Emerazel?”
Silence descended on the cavern. Tendrils of black magic gathered around him, undulating from his powerful body like serpents. “You are mistaken,” he said at last, rising from the swirling darkness.
Violet light washed over pale eyes, chiseled features, and a body of pure, thickly corded muscle.
Ursula choked down a scream. Bael. So that was the lord Cera had been talking about. She’d been scared of Nyxobas, but this might be worse. She’d seen him fight, and right now, she could feel his raw power rippling over her skin. Once a demon like Bael decided you were his enemy, that was it. You were dead.
And the truth was—if anyone had a reason to hate her, it was Bael. She’d forced him to sign over his soul to Emerazel. Nyxobas had been furious—in fact, the damage to his manor was probably the night god’s doing. Bael was lucky to be alive at all.
And that had all been Ursula’s fault.
Cold fury glinted in his eyes, which darkened from gray to black. That’s not a good sign. When a demon’s eyes turned black, it usually meant they were about to rip someone’s heart out.
Her back was to the stone bridge. She stood, trapped between an enraged demon and a bottomless chasm. So that’s why he didn’t reveal himself earlier. He’d wanted to wait until she was most vulnerable.
“You stole a soul from me, Ursula.” Venom laced his voice. “And left me to die.”
Yeah. She was definitely on his enemy list. And now, as she stood before him in a flimsy dress and heels, without a sword to defend herself, he was going to exact his revenge.
Panic sunk its claws into her chest, and a buried memory flitted through the recesses of her mind. Something about his cold fury was familiar. Had she seen him before? Did F.U. know Bael, and was she warning Ursula away?
Run, Ursula. Run before he rips you to pieces.
She turned to run—one step, two—then her heel caught on the hem of her dress. At the edge of the cliff, her arms windmilled in the air as she teetered at the edge of the abyss.
Time seemed to move in slow motion, and the void pulled her over the edge. How long would she fall before she hit the ground? Two seconds? Five? The impact would knock the organs from her body. A burst of light. Then raging fire as she began to burn in Emerazel’s infernos.
Or maybe there was no ground, and she’d fall forever, trapped in Nyxobas’s hell of unending darkness.
As she plunged over the cliff, powerful magic rushed around her, then strong arms enveloped her, trapping her. Bael. He pulled her back from the brink, his eyes still black with fury. On the cliff’s edge, he pinned her arms to her sides.
He was going to kill her. He just wanted to do it his way.
She brought up her knee, striking his groin, and his dark eyes widened, his grip loosening just enough that she could slam her fist into his Adam’s apple. Stunned, he stepped back.
She yanked up her dress, and ripped the corkscrew from her knickers.
If she thought Bael had been surprised before, he now looked like he was about to pop a vein in his forehead.
“Do you mean to attack me, hellhound?” he snarled.
In a blur of black magic, a tattooed arm gripped her throat, powerful fingers encircling her neck. He was about to choke the life from her.
She jammed the corkscrew into his forearm, and he let out a roar, his fingers tightening.
She ripped the thing from his flesh again, before bringing it down a second time. Bael dropped his hand. But in a movement so swift she nearly missed it, he snatched the corkscrew from her grasp. Growling, he flung it into the chasm.
Her heart thudded. There goes my only weapon.
In the next second, his arms were around her again, pinning her in a vise-like grip. “Are you quite done?” A cold fury laced his voice.
Adrenaline blazed through her veins, but as much as she strained, she was stuck fast. She stared up at him. Gods, he was enormous. “You know that Emerazel will send someone to avenge me. If you kill me—“
“I’m not trying to kill you.”
“You’re not?” Some of her panic began to ebb,
and she studied him. She hadn’t quite noticed before, but with his perfect features, he looked a lot like an angel. An angel of death, perhaps, but an angel nonetheless.
“No.” He loosened his arms, but he didn’t release her. He smelled like the sea, and faintly, of sandalwood. “You have angered me, but I cannot kill you. Nyxobas has tasked me as your guardian while you are in his realm.”
“Why you? Did he return your wings?” With his wings and immortality intact, he’d be a powerful protector. If not...
His arms tightened again, crushing her chest.
Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about the wings. So that would be a no.
He leaned down, his breath warming the shell of her ear. “It would be an understatement to say your kind isn’t liked here. You wouldn’t be safe in Asta, Nyxobas’s spire. So he has burdened me with you. I suspect this is part of my punishment.”
“For the whole soul debacle.”
“That isn’t quite how I’d describe it.”
“If you’re tasked with protecting me, does that mean you’ll stop crushing me?”
He narrowed his eyes. The gray irises were lined with remarkably thick lashes. “Are you going to continue attacking me?”
“No.”
Bael loosened his powerful grasp, and she stepped away from him.
His eyes trailed over her dress for just a moment before he glanced away again. “That isn’t how most women dress here.”
So he was a bit of a prude. Interesting. “Cera made it for me. She warned me it might be a bit shocking.”
A muscle tensed in his jaw. “Not quite as shocking as your choice of holster for your corkscrew.”
“Well, a lady can never be too careful.”
His gaze met hers again. “You’re smart to bring weapons with you. You are not safe in this realm. There are many who would like to kill one of Emerazel’s hounds. Or worse.” He studied her carefully, his magic licking the air around him. “Is it true what Cera told me, that the Forgotten Ones stole your fire?”
Grimly, Ursula nodded. “Yes. And the bastards nearly drowned me, too.”
“It is unfortunate that I could not have come for you myself. I should have told Cera to warn you about them.”
“I don’t think there was time. It was very chaotic when we were leaving. I’m sure it was an oversight.”
Bael nodded. “Without your fire, you don’t have much to protect yourself. You must remain in your quarters.”
Her shoulders tensed. Her quarters were beautiful—luxurious, even—but they were also incredibly lonely.
Bael turned from her, stalking back to his onyx throne. As he neared the stone dais, shadows rose around him. Without looking back, he disappeared into the coiling tendrils of darkness.
Chapter 7
For her return trip, Ursula removed the shoes. Much easier to walk over the stone bridge without them.
As he pushed through the front door into her quarters, she found Cera standing in the front hall, chewing a fingernail.
“Oh dear!” Cera cast a critical eye over her tattered dress, the bare feet, and the silver pumps dangling from her hand. “What in the lord’s name happened to the dress?”
Ursula glanced down at herself. It was worse than she thought. The hem was torn up to her thigh, the bodice soaked in Bael’s blood. She felt pretty bad about ruining the gorgeous gown—Cera’s hard work, now ragged and gore-spattered.
She smoothed the front of her dress, as though trying to reclaim her dignity. “Bael was a little confrontational.”
Cera’s jaw dropped. “Is that blood?” Her brow furrowed. “Whose blood is it?”
“I’m fine.”
Cera’s body began to shake. “What did you do to the lord?”
“It was just a little misunderstanding. He’ll recover quickly, I’m sure, but I will need another corkscrew at some point.”
Cera’s hands fluttered in the air like frightened birds. “Of course. The corkscrew. When he asked me to remove all the weapons from your quarters, I didn’t even think to take the corkscrew.”
Frowning, Ursula crossed her arms. “He asked you to remove all the weapons?”
Cera’s hand flew to her mouth, making an audible slapping noise. Given her sharp teeth, Ursula would be surprised if she didn’t stab herself.
“Please don’t mention this to the lord. He specifically told me not to say anything about the weapons. He said you were prone to violence.”
Pot. Kettle. Black. “I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you.” The little demon took a deep breath, then crossed into the living room. “I’ve brought you dinner.”
At the mention of the dinner, Ursula’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything apart from a few grapes since she’d first arrived. As she crossed into the living room, she saw that Cera had arranged a few folded piles of clothes for her on the sofa. As soon as Cera left, she’d change into them. But right now, she just wanted to tear into the sumptuous-smelling meal.
At the bar, Cera had cleared up the wine and cheese from the night before. In their place stood a silver domed place setting. Cera pulled off the lid. Steam curled into the air, and Ursula’s mouth watered at the scent of grilled meat. Cera had arranged fingerling potatoes next to a T-bone steak with a small salad. Ursula pulled a chair up to the bar, a grin curling her lips. “This looks amazing. Did you make it?”
Cera beamed. “I did.”
“Thank you so much.” Ursula popped a potato into her mouth, savoring the buttery flavor. Amazing. She glanced at Cera. “Cera, you are indeed multi-talented. Are you going to join me? It’s a shame to eat alone.”
Cera shook her head. “I’ve already eaten.”
She picked up the knife and fork. “Maybe tomorrow you could join me.”
Cera’s brow furrowed. “No,” she said with some finality. “Fine.” Ursula picked up her knife and fork. Guess I’ll eat alone. Still, she didn’t want to be completely isolated. She’d lose her mind in solitary confinement. Maybe she could keep Cera here for conversation. “So how does the food get here? Surely you don’t have cows on the moon.”
“The salad and the potatoes are grown here. The lunar soil isn’t very rich in nutrients, but that’s easily remedied with natural compost. But you’re right about the beef. It is imported.”
“And how does that work?” She shoveled in a forkful of salad. “I had to leave all my clothes behind to travel through Nyxobas’s water.”
“That’s right,” said Cera nodding. “Since it’s impossible to bring anything through a portal with you, we have the lunar bats fly it in.”
“Bats like Sotz?”
“Exactly. They can fly between the Earth and the moon.”
“They fly through the vacuum of space? Without air?”
Cera shrugged. “They don’t appear to need air. They’re Nyxobas’s creatures.”
“Fascinating,” said Ursula, carving off a piece of the steak. Red streaks of blood oozed from the flesh.
“Is it okay? We don’t usually cook steak. I hope I didn’t overdo it.”
After ruining the dress, Ursula didn’t want to insult the demon. “It’s delicious.” She cut off a piece from the edge and popped it into her mouth.
Cera’s eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “Well, I should leave you to eat alone.”
Ursula turned to Cera. “Sotz flew back on his own?”
“Yes. He’s in the rookery now. Well, perhaps I—”
It was a long shot, but she had to ask. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what I’ll be doing here for the next six months. Am I really supposed to just hang out in my quarters?”
Cera frowned. “No. Of course not. And I completely forgot the wine.”
Before Ursula could tell her not to worry, Cera was already behind the bar. She slid a glass over the bar and pulled out a carafe of red wine.
Ursula took a sip, letting the rich flavor roll over her tongue. Delicious. It also helped rinse out the taste o
f raw meat. “If I’m staying here, how often will you visit me?”
“I’ll deliver your meals and clothes,” said Cera, eyeing the raw steak hungrily. “That’s all I know.”
“And you’ll never eat with me? Even if the food is delicious?”
“That’s not how it works. Everyone has their place here in the Shadow Realm. And my place is not at the table with you.”
Ursula forked another potato into her mouth. “I don’t understand.”
“The lord doesn’t allow the oneiroi to eat his food.”
“You mean Bael?”
Cera frowned. “Yes. The lord.”
“I won’t tell. You can have the steak, if you want. I don’t eat much meat,” she lied.
Cera drummed her fingernails on the marble bar for a moment before snatching the plate. “If you insist.”
The demon grabbed a fork, lifting the entire steak to her mouth. She opened her mouth, her sharp teeth glinting in the candlelight. She tore into the meat, ripping off a chunk with her teeth.
As Cera ripped into the meat, Ursula crossed to the other side of the bar and pulled out another wine glass. She slid it over to Cera, then filled it. “The steak goes well with the wine.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course not. I don’t want to be stuck here on my own. And will you please sit? Make yourself comfortable.”
Cera climbed into a chair and continued working her way through the steak, little grunts of pleasure emitting from her throat.
“So tell me about yourself,” said Ursula. “How did you come to work for Bael?”
“My mother was the lord’s maidservant. When she grew too old to work, I took over the position.”
“You seem afraid of him.” Ursula sipped her wine, eyeing her new dinner companion cautiously. Maybe she could learn a bit more about Bael while she was at it. “Is he cruel to you?”
Cera stopped chewing, her eyes widening. “Of course not. He’s very good to me, but all the lords have dominion over the oneiroi. If an oneiroi steps out of line, we can be brought before the council, and—” She glanced out the window, as if Nyxobas could overhear her. “The council demands obedience. Everyone has their place. The lords serve our god. Shadow demons serve the lords. Women serve their husbands. And oneiroi serve everyone.”
Nocturnal Magic (Demons of Fire and Night Book 2) Page 4