Queen of Darkness (War of Heavenly Fire Book 1)

by Devyn Sinclair

  Cassian moves to one of my chairs and drops heavily into it, flexing his wings wider as he does. “Let him come. Now get stretched.”

  I roll my eyes and start the routine I do every day to keep myself limber and warm myself up. More than any other day, it’s important that I’m in top condition. I’m very aware that Cassian is watching me, and that I’m still in my underwear. But this is more important at the moment.

  “Are you nervous?” He asks.

  I press my lips together and shift from one stretch to another. One of the reasons I’ve survived this long here is not admitting weakness. Never voicing inner feelings. Turning myself to stone. But with Cassian…he’ll know if I lie.

  “Yes.”

  “Get it out of your fucking head.”

  “I know.” I snap.

  He glares. “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  Of course I fucking know. I’ve been preparing for this day for years. Today the light of Eris is occulted by the moon for the first time since my birth. The dark light of Eris fuels the underworld, and in its absence that infernal light appears elsewhere. In vessels. In me and my sister, Nissa, born in the exact moments that Eris’s light was extinguished.

  We were born to serve the Underworld, and Arad searched for us for years until he found us. We were taken from those people and brought here to be trained. So that we could serve our true father until one of us takes his place. I’m told the families were paid handsomely for the trouble.

  And today, when that light disappears, we will fight for command of that darkness. It’s never happened before, that there are two vessels alive at the same time. The darkness chooses its own, my father always says. But this time it chose two. And so we must choose in the darkness.

  I’ve heard the story repeated a thousand times in my life. That two vessels means the end of the war that has raged against heaven for millenniums on end. No pressure.

  “It’s not a fight to the death,” I say, pressing up into a handstand and balancing until my arms begin to strange.

  Cassian laughs under his breath. “Do you really think that she’s going to stop?”

  Nissa is my sister in darkness, but we are not close. She has fully embraced this world and this life. Not in the way that I have. I do what I have to to survive. She relishes in it. Her kills are bloody, brutal, and prolonged.

  It’s not a fight to the death, but I know Nissa. She will try to kill me. And I will try just as hard. Being Heir to this world means freedom that I’ve never had, and I want it. I know that I can do it.

  “No,” I say. “She won’t.”

  I look at Cassian, and I was so distracted earlier by the kiss that I didn’t notice he’s dressed in battle leathers. His weapons are missing, but that doesn’t mean he’s not lethal. “Planning on stepping in?”

  His smile is sharp as a blade. “I like to be prepared.”

  I grab my sword and Cassian gives me room as I start my forms and sequences. They feel good. Better now that I refreshed myself by sparring with Cassian last night. I breathe in, breathe out, and let everything around me fade into nothing. Absolute focus is the only thing that will help me. No distractions.

  Nissa knows me just as well as I know her. We trained together from the time we were ten to the time we were eighteen. And in the last seven years both of us have gotten better. We’ve known this day was coming.

  When I finish, I’m panting lightly. But my muscles are warm. I have a few minutes before I have to leave. “Time for a shower,” I say.

  Cassian smirks. “Want me to join you in there?”

  I strip off my underwear and leave them on the floor, enjoying the way his gaze darkens with heat. “I’ll think about you,” I say, tossing a glance over my shoulder.

  I hear him mutter fuck as I turn the corner, and I grin in spite of myself. But now I’m standing in hot water and I can’t stop reliving that kiss. The way his lips covered mine—solid and demanding—woke something in me that should have been buried.

  Instead, I’m thinking about what it would be like to call his name and watch him approach. See his powerful frame step into this water with me, and then there’s nothing but slow, unhurried pleasure. More than one night has been spent with my hand between my thighs, imagining that. Trying to seek pleasure on my own terms.

  I turn the water cold.

  We don’t speak as I dress. Black leather leggings and bodice. Vambraces. Boots. If I were going into battle, I would let myself have more armor. But in this fight with Nissa, speed is almost more important. My last step is to braid my hair, binding it back and then twisting it up so it’s secure. There’s nothing worse than your hair being in the way in a fight.

  I meet Cassian’s gaze in the mirror, and I don’t flinch. He steps up behind me, and without taking his eyes off mine, he wraps something cool and metal around my arm. I look down. The metal is silver, and blackened.

  There’s only one time I’ve seen this—the day Cassian was brought to the underworld after he was cast out of heaven. The medallion of an archangel no longer.

  “I didn’t know you still had those.”

  His mouth is a firm line. “I couldn’t get rid of them.”

  “Why give it to me?” I ask softly, turning to him.

  This moment we’re in feels dangerous. Teetering on the edge of something more than kissing and lust and desperation. Cassian tightens the metal chain so it’s snug against my skin. “Because I want them to know that I am behind you. And I want you to know that I am behind you.”

  Something flickers in my chest, I open my mouth to say something. Anything that could come close to that. But there’s a new pounding on the door. Shit.

  I smile at Cassian in thanks and head for the door. Telem towers outside it, looking annoyed. My father’s demon enforcer and General Commander of the Underworld’s armies. Cassian is not short, and Telem makes him seem smaller in comparison. I know he doesn’t appreciate retrieving me as an errand. Especially when he sees Cassian flanking me.

  Telem’s gaze falls to Cassian’s band on my arm and he sneers. There’s no love lost between the two of them. A history as long and complicated as the one between Cassian and I.

  “Let’s go.” His voice rumbles like rocks falling. “I have better things to do than play bodyguard for the Underworld’s whore.”

  I know better than to respond, but Cassian can’t resist. “What’s that? Lead a few angels on a wild goose chase until we’re ready for the final blow?”

  The only comeback is a snarl that echoes off the stone.

  Telem has skin the color of stone, and for all I know he was carved out of it and brought to life with the light of Eris. I’ve made a point of never touching him to find out. Black horns curl out of his skull, and the broadsword strapped across his back is the size of my waist.

  Somewhere else in the palace, Nissa is also getting an escort. It’s not like we don’t know our way around the place. We’re being escorted for the same reason that I had to abandon my sword—to make sure nothing can be affected or tampered with.

  Because of that same policy, one of the priests of Eris—who will be both the referees and the judges of the fight—meet us at the entrance. To search me.

  Telem shoves past him, his duty done. He heads towards his seat near my father, the ground shaking with his steps. He bows to my father, who watches me expectantly.

  I lift my arms and allow the priest to search me, sinking into that place where nothing matters but my focus and the thing that’s in front of me. It helps me ignore the thoroughness of the priest’s search and his wandering hands.

  Cassian fades away from me into the throne room without a backward glance. Like he too was simply escorting me to the fight. Here, where there are so many eyes, we can’t afford the smallest flash of what happened in my room. My father would have us torn apart in seconds. Maybe he’d do it himself.

  The throne room is packed, with the vaulted balconies filled to bursting with people and creatures
from all over the underworld. They’re all here to see us fight, and to know who will be the queen when my father decides to pass it on.

  The same priest brings me my sword and a knife. The two weapons that we’ll be fighting with. Across the room from me, Nissa is receiving her own weapons. The armor she’s chosen is really identical to mine, though hers is the deep crimson of our darkly gifted power. She looks over at me and smiles.

  It’s not a friendly smile.

  I close my eyes and slow my breath. I’ve beaten Nissa a thousand times in sparring. This is no different than any other fight on any other day. Or so I tell myself.

  The sound of a thousand voices comes to silence as my father stands, and the light in the room begins to fade. The occultation of Eris has begun.

  CHAPTER THREE

  _______

  The light in the room fades to nothing as Eris winks out above us in the oculus. Crimson stones glow in the walls, casting a glow over us. It’s darker than any human eyes should be able to see, but mine adjust quickly. Years spent in the underworld have helped me adjust.

  I wrap my hand more firmly around the pommel of my sword, focusing on the even weight of it and the knife in my other hand.

  “My friends.” My father’s voice echoes through the massive chamber. “Eris leaves us in divine darkness so that a vessel may be chosen to continue guarding the infernal flame.”

  At his words a flame licks up from a bowl placed on the altar that rests at the base of the throne’s dais. I’ve seen the infernal flame and this is just a sliver of it. But it’s so pure, ruby light blazing and vivid, that it has the effect that he wants.

  Whispers crawl over the walls, echoing down and through like rain. For all my father’s faults—which are nearly infinite—he knows how to command a crowd. He lets his words hang in the air like a gift, and I close my eyes, trying to calm my pounding heart.

  Now that the moment is here, I am not as calm as I would like to be. My mind keeps running through moments when I’ve lost to Nissa. I’ve fallen to her just as many times as she’s fallen to me. But my victories are eluding me.

  I look over at her to find her staring directly back. My sister is taller than I am by nearly a foot, with features and form that are honed sharper than her weapons. I’ve always thought that she was a living weapon, and my father seemed to agree. Our assignments were different. Hers were swift death and brutal combat. Mine were deception and manipulation followed by secret violence.

  In the dim light casting over us, Nissa’s void-dark hair and scarlet armor make her look like a wraith out of nightmares. I stare back without flinching, but we know each other too well, and she smirks. She knows she’s getting to me.

  A wave of smoky power washes over me, with one word contained in a growl.

  Focus.

  Cassian’s fury shines through. He won’t tolerate less than perfect focus, and I snap my mind back into stillness. The fact that he can send and receive thoughts is a closely guarded secret that takes immense power. I don’t look at him, but roll my neck so my gaze moves past him. I got the message.

  “Never before have we been gifted with two vessels of darkness,” my father says. He’s not usually this formal, but he’s putting on a show. “But it is something that we have been waiting for. A signal that heralds the end of the war and the victory over heaven. And today we gather to watch as the infernal flame chooses the one who will deliver that triumph.”

  The roar is deafening. Primal energy pouring from every creature in this room. I feel it—accept it—even though it isn’t directed at me. My father paints a picture they can almost taste. The dominion of darkness over triad realms: Heaven, Earth, and the Underworld. Tartarus.

  “Now, my daughters,” Arad’s gaze falls on me, and then on Nissa. “Embrace the darkness, and emerge victorious.”

  Everyone who was wandering around the edges of the room vanishes into alcoves and balconies, leaving the entire space empty save for Nissa. And for me.

  A bell sounds. One loud, resounding clang that fills the room, and we’ve begun. Nissa runs towards me, and I leap to the side to miss her first sweeping lunge. She backs off, testing my attention, and I’m happy to let her. We face off, circling the other. The darkness of the room makes it harder to track her, but her red armor gives me a slight edge.

  I’m glad I’m wearing black.

  Nissa feints to the left and comes at me from the right. She vaults up, sword coming straight for my heart. But I know this move. It’s her favorite. I lean back, putting myself off balance for just enough leverage to catch her blade on mine and let it slide across mine and free.

  Yes.

  There it is. I feel the rhythm of battle rise up into me, sinking into that place where nothing matters but the next movement. I whirl, catching Nissa’s sword with my knife as she ducks under my own slice at her head.

  We fall into a pattern that we’ve done a hundred times, parry and blows flying at a speed that only instinct can follow. It’s a dance between us, neither having truly gone for the kill. Yet.

  The sequence ends with our blades locked and faces close. “You’re holding back,” she spits at me.

  “So are you.”

  Nissa twists her sword, and I do too, ignoring how close that was to slicing off my fingers. No more holding back. She’s attacking with full strength, every blow jarring through my bones. I leap over a strike for my ankles and roll, coming up on the other side of her already twisting for her spine, but she dances away.

  Patience. That’s what was hammered into both of us as children learning to wield a blade. But over time she’s started to ignore that. Nissa has become so good that she assumes she can get to anyone before they wear her down.

  But not me. I dive back and under, spinning away, and only letting her connect with my blade when necessary. It takes more energy to swing aimlessly through the air than it does to collide. Her frustration is building. I can feel it.

  Coming straight at me, there’s nowhere to break away. I face her straight, catching her sword between my crossed blades. I step inside her guard and slam my elbow into her jaw. It makes her stumble. I follow with a blow directly towards her chest that she parries easily.

  Just like I meant her to.

  My knife finds the outside of Nissa’s thigh, drawing first blood, and she hisses as we separate. We’re back to circling at a safe distance. I don’t need light in this room to know that death is in her eyes.

  One breath in, one breath out, and we collide. The dance is gone. This isn’t elegant sparring. It’s calling and biting and scraping. Every blow exchanged is a fraction away from death for both of us. I’m moving on pure impulse, years of training sensing Nissa’s movements before I can process them.

  She steps too far to the left. There. I move, bringing down my sword with every bit of strength I have. She blocks, but it’s not enough. She has to back up and is on the defensive. I press her, not letting her rest for a second. This is where I want her. I’m faster now. I can see the exact sequence I need to win. New energy and strength floods me with the realization. I have her. This is mine.

  I feel the flicker of power as Nissa slips. I see it happen, her foot losing its grip on the floor. It gives me an opening earlier than I had anticipated, and I repeat the attack I used on Cassian. Duck under and in so we’re fully in contact and using her own momentum to throw her to the ground.

  The tip of my sword is pressing down into her throat, and I release a breath, panting. This isn’t a fight to the death, but if she doesn’t yield, it could be.

  Nissa glares at me from the ground. I tense, ready to spring and kill as her hands tighten on her weapons. Cassian was right. If she had gotten the upper hand in this fight, I would be dead. And if my blade was in any other position, she would take the opportunity to kill me. But the blade is already drawing blood.

  She tosses her weapons to either side and crosses her wrist above her head. Yielding.

  Holy fuck.

  Reli
ef pours down on me from above and the cavern shakes with sound. Cheering and screaming on both sides of the spectrum. I remove the blade from her throat and stand. As I do, cold blue light pours into the room and down onto me.

  Eris has once again appeared, and I am the heir to the Underworld.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  _______

  “You interfered,” Nissa hisses next to me.

  I shake my head. “You know that wasn’t me.” Not once in any of our fights have I ever cheated. She can’t say the same. Turning to look at her. “And we both know that it would have ended the same way.”

  Nissa’s eyes flare with anger. “You don’t have it in you.”

  “That mark on your neck says otherwise.”

  My father’s voice echoes. “The darkness has chosen. Come, daughter.”

  I walk away from Nissa towards the throne, fully aware that my back is exposed. And if she chooses to attack me now, I won’t have a chance to react or defend myself. But she doesn’t.

  Now that I’ve won, she’ll attack me in another way. Slowly. Quietly. But it will come.

  As I approach the throne Cassian’s power washes over me again. It’s filled with approval, pride, and relief. I allow myself to smile. It fits. I am victorious, and the citizens of Tartarus expect arrogance from me.

  I step around the altar and climb the stairs to kneel at my father’s feet. The first time in my life, that’s a good thing. He’s looking at me with pleasure and satisfaction—or as close as he can get to that.

  “Well done,” he says quietly. Then louder. “I accept you, Arielle of Tartarus, as the heir to the Underworld and the true vessel of the Infernal Flame. As it was foretold, you were born in the darkness of Eris to bring about the subjugation of heaven and the triumph of darkness.”