She leans closer and pulls out a few smaller feathers then whispers, “When?” she asks.
Ignore her. “A day or two… you done?”
She pulls out five more feathers and tries to hand them to me. “I don’t want them.”
I stand to put some distance between us. She’s wiping the blood off each feather as though they’re prized possessions. Typical mortals, fucking stupid. I need her out of my bed, and out of my life.
“Do you need a doctor or something? Stitches? Um, Belial… you’re bleeding a lot," she says. "What happened?”
“Fight, against wolves. We won, obviously. I’m fine, the Saviour tablet will heal me in a few hours. Now go back to bed.” I pull off my weapons belt and kick off my jeans, knowing Lola’s staring. I ignore her and walk into the bathroom without a word, hoping when I come out she’s asleep and I won’t have to talk to her again.
Looking in the mirror at my reflection, I feel something strange. There's a warmth in my chest, as if my heart is on fire. Different to the heat I feel when I’m enraged, more intense. I shake my head. My reflection is speaking to me. I am going insane.
“Don’t kill her. Protect Lola,” my reflection says. I rub my hand over the mirror to clear the fog.
What the hell?
Sighing, I step into the shower and think about how I could kill Lola without hurting her. Insane.
SIX
Shiloh
The Underworld
§§§
I’ve heard the rumours. I know what they say about me. They think I’m merely a child, and the only daughter ever to be born to the King of the Underworld. They say my mother is a heavenly angel, and she didn’t want me. They don’t know me, and they don’t know my mother.
Father told me she was an angel and died shortly after giving birth to me. He said she was the only female he had ever loved, and he promised her he would protect me with his life. I’m not sure I believe him. What would the King of the Underworld know about love? But he is my father, and this is my home.
My home—or my room—is the top floor of the Hellion Tower. I’m forbidden to leave without my father’s permission. He says Hell isn’t safe for me until I’m properly trained and he takes full control of the Underworld. Probably another lie, considering I leave the tower as often as possible, and nothing has come of it.
The entire Underworld is a barren abyss of darkness and despair. Everything here is dark and covered in thick black ash that rises every hour on the hour, then floats to the ground, delivering with it the screaming souls of the dead. I’ve heard the worst place to be on the hour, is the Void, a place of misery, suffering, and desolation.
Deceased mortal bodies wander aimlessly, searching for an escape route that doesn’t exist. Some survive their first hours in the Void, though they will be nothing more than empty shells. Hollow and numb to the core. Their souls will be taken by the reapers and used to fuel the fires that keep Hell burning. Their bodies will eventually disintegrate into ash and disperse into the nothingness that is the Underworld.
The centre of Hell is where all the action takes place. Club Hell Fire is the main attraction. If you call a club full of sin and debauchery, an attraction. Other than that, the main street is lined with small single fronted stores selling anything money, or tokens can buy.
Then there’s The Stoke, a two-acre warehouse filled with crates of weapons, drugs, alcohol, and tobacco. The Stoke is where the demons who have influence and power can purchase large quantities of anything they need or desire. The only way to get tokens is to become a hunter, or deal in drugs and mortal souls.
Unless you're me, and you have the privilege of being the only daughter of King of the Underworld, and everything you’re told you need or desire will be delivered to your room. Sucks to be me.
There are many demons living in the tower that is my home. They don’t bother me. In fact, no one here bothers me. They live in fear of my father and spend their lives drinking and fighting among themselves, trying to assert their authority in a world where they have none.
Sometimes, I sneak out and head to the bar in the foyer where I listen to the demons talking. I’ve heard them say I’m the female version of Lord Belial—my half-brother—my father’s favourite son. They say Belial will stop at nothing to please my father and has killed thousands of beings, mortal and immortal. I am nothing like Belial.
I saw him once when I was in the city. I wore a black hoodie and tied my hair back. No one noticed me sitting at the bar of Club Hell Fire.
Even though he is covered in scars, Belial is gorgeous. The female demons, and the phoenix, call him hot. I’ve heard them say he’s the best fuck around. I suppose after three centuries he’s had a lot of practice.
I’m yet to see a mortal here, they’re more common in Nevermore. They accidentally find their way there through the forests and underground tunnels. I’ve read about them though, my father tells me they’re filthy and spend their days working, earning money they then spend on other people. Always putting themselves last.
He says we should always think of ourselves first, and to give our wealth and power away is to let others take control of our minds and souls. He says controlling our balance and our darkness, and ensuring we don’t give in to the light, is what separates us from the rest of the immortals. I still don’t understand, and with my father only allowing me limited contact with the two demons charged with training me, it feels as though I may never figure it out.
I need to find someone to help me, preferably Belial. I’ve heard he knows everything about everyone here.
I’ve always lived in the Underworld. I’ve never considered a life anywhere other than the depths of Hell. The only problem is my father’s rules. On the rare occasion he does let me out, I must be accompanied by two demons, Rylan and Blayne. Even then, I’m only permitted to venture as far as Club Hell Fire and the small stores that line the main street. The only way I can avoid Rylan and Blayne, is to sneak out when they're at the club, or my father sends them on a mission. On the plus side, Rylan and Blayne are both so damn stupid they rarely take any notice of me, which makes sneaking out a lot easier.
A few weeks ago, I saw Belial talking to Evan and Nik about a fight they’d been in with vampires. Belial had fresh wounds on his neck and shoulders. His wings were folded, and although I couldn’t see any broken feathers, there was blood splattered across his back. That night, I followed Belial through the city and watched from a dark alley while he kissed Kamen. She's half vampire, half demon, and the only female who’s ever spoken to me. Kamen and Belial must have an agreement, because she’s also the only female he lets into Hell Fire without a pass.
Before he left, he kissed her passionately. I knew I was staring, and I was relieved they didn’t know I was watching. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to kiss someone, to be that close to another person, and have their hot breath upon my lips. I have a feeling that is one thing my father will never allow.
I continue down the steps to the bottom of the stairwell that leads to the foyer of the Hellion Tower. Liam is sitting at the bar. He’s another demon, and lives in a smaller room two floors below mine. We’ve spoken more than a few times, and he never tells anyone when I sneak out. At first, I thought it was because he was interested in me. I tried flirting with him a few times, then he told me I was a stupid kid, and the only reason he’s kind to me is because he’s afraid of my father. Asshole. Half the time I doubt my father even cares if I’m alive, or dead, which on the plus side, makes it easier for me to sneak around.
Liam’s sitting on a barstool with his elbows propped on the bar. He sways as he drinks whiskey straight from the bottle. His face is bruised and bloody, and there’s fresh blood seeping from a wound on his forehead. It cuts a jagged line through his left eyebrow and cheekbone.
I put my elbow on the bar and lean across to get a closer look at his face. “What happened to you?”
He doesn’t look up. “Vex,” he mumbles.
> Vex Hellion, another half-brother. I’ve always wondered why Vex isn’t my father’s favourite. He seems to be the only demon who will go out of his way to kill or harm another being purely for his own sick, twisted enjoyment. Maybe that’s not a good thing. I’ve heard my father has punished him many times for killing demons without permission. Whatever the reason, I always stay well away from Vex.
Liam takes a swig from the bottle and slams it down on the bar. “What do ya want?”
I slip my hands into my pockets and step back. “Nothing, I’m going to the Hole,” I tell him. “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Some Saviour?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not from you, Shiloh.” He wipes the blood off his brow with the back of his hand and shakes his head, irritation etched across his face. “Look, quit staring, just go,” he slurs.
§§§
My footsteps echo as I walk down the narrow steps that lead into the Hole. I cover my nose with my hand and try not to gag. The stench is repulsive. The bodies of the dead are left here until they’re rotten and covered in maggots and rats. Or, until my father sends one of his demon slaves down to scrape up the bloodied corpses and throw their liquefied remains into the pits of Hell. Hundreds of beings have been killed down here, some mortal, some immortal, all had one thing in common—my father wanted them to suffer.
He used to make me watch, but he’d become infuriated when I’d start gagging or close my eyes. In those moments, he’d glare at me as if I was solely responsible for all the troubles of the Underworld.
For that reason, I now make a point of acting like a good little demon daughter should. I suppose having an angel for a mother has made me weaker than his precious sons.
Father says my angel side will fade the longer I stay in the Underworld. At first, it never bothered me. I’ve always been eager to please him, but now I’m beginning to feel things, things I’ve never felt before.
My father is harder on me now too, and says I must start killing. He tells me I’ll have a quota to fill to repay him for all he has given me over the past sixteen years. I don’t have a say in the matter. If I don’t obey, I am sure he will make my life—literally—hell.
As I reach the bottom step of the stairwell I call out. “Anyone in here?”
There’s no reply, only the moaning and groaning of the people left to rot in the cages. I walk into the large circular chamber that is the Hole. Six-foot square cages are bolted against the walls. In the centre of the room, surrounded by fire pits is a marble topped altar covered in blood, and the remains of an angel I witnessed Belial and Vex torture and kill during one of the times I had snuck down here.
I didn't know they were coming, and had to hide in the back corner among a pile of rotting corpses and hungry rats. I kept my head down and hands over my face trying to block the stench. I only saw the aftermath of their spoils: a headless angel, and white feathered wings lying on the ground torn, broken, and soaked in blood. The bloody steel chains still hang off the four corners of the altar with pieces of flesh embedded into the steel links.
Two days ago my father had me stand and watch as he chained Bryce—a demon—and one of his own sons, to the altar and let the guillotine blade come down. As it sliced through Bryce’s neck, his blood sprayed into my face, and his head hit the floor with a thud. My father glared at me, waiting for a reaction, anything to tell him I was weak and afraid. I stood in silence and showed no emotion. I have perfected my poker face, inside, I was screaming.
Cage number four is where I’m headed. If my father, or anyone for that matter, finds out I’m down here, there will be hell to pay. I’m not afraid. I put that down to my demon side that urges me on and continually goes out of its way to put in me in less than ideal situations. I’ve become so used to hiding in the dark and sneaking around, it’s almost second nature.
As I walk past the cages, I peer into the first one where a man hangs by chains shackled to his wrists. In the second cage a woman hangs the same way. They are both alive, although I have no idea how, they’ve been here for ten years. I've heard demons say it's the longest my father has kept any prisoner alive.
I remember coming down to the Hole when I was just eight years old and seeing the woman’s pretty face. Father told me she was an angel and couldn’t be trusted. I’ve tried to speak to her a few times, she never replies. Back then, she had bright clear skin and her hair was long, dark and shiny. For some reason, I thought of my own mother and wondered if she bore any resemblance to the angel hanging in the cage. The next cage is empty. The angel who was held there died a few days ago.
Cage number four. I put my hand on the cold steel bars and kneel on the hard, filthy ground. His eyes are closed and his head’s down. A wave of emotion rolls over me, there’s a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach I’m still not used to. He tells me it’s empathy. I’m not sure. There’s something else too, as though a weight is being pressed down on my chest, crushing my heart.
“Ripley,” I whisper, “are you awake?”
He raises his head and his pale blue eyes meet mine. There’s a slight smile on his bruised and bloodied face. I reach in and place my hand on his forearm.
He flinches and pulls his arm back. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers.
“I wanted to see if you were okay.” I want to help him. I’ve thought about the ways I could set him free, but since my father took his wings just a few weeks ago, he would have no way to fly. There’s something about him, something kind and gentle.
His black hair sticks to the sweat and dried blood on his forehead. He’s been here for a year now, and I’ve been coming to see him once a week for almost as long. This is one secret I hope my father never discovers. I slip my hand into my pocket and pull out a chocolate bar. I remove the wrapper and hand it to him.
He takes a bite of the chocolate bar. “He will catch you, you need to be careful,” Ripley says.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispers. Ripley pushes the rest of the chocolate bar into his mouth.
When I hear my name, I stand and step away from the cage. It’s Belial. This isn’t good. My knees tremble, and it takes all the strength I have not to start blubbering like a baby and begging him not to tell anyone I was here.
He stands a few feet away and puts his hand around the steel bar of the first cage, not even acknowledging the man hanging inside it. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
I’m not afraid of him. “None of your fucking business,” I reply, surprising myself.
He drops his hand and strides toward me. I pull my dagger from the back of my pants and hold it up, ready to fight. My hands are shaking.
My father had Rylan and Blayne give me some weapons training, and now when I need it most, I can’t remember a damn thing.
Belial watches me, his expression is blank, giving nothing away. Even his eyes are dark and soulless. He glances at my dagger then pushes my hand down. “I’m not here to fight you, Shiloh,” he says.
“Why are you here?” I ask, hoping no one has noticed my absence. “Is father looking for me?”
Belial shakes his head. “I hate to break it to you, Shiloh, but unless your—our—father can use you for his own benefit, he has no interest in you.”
Obviously. I plant my hands on my hips. “Well, I have no interest in him,” I reply.
Belial raises an eyebrow, then checks the cage beside me. “Who is he?” he asks.
I shrug. “He was an angel, father took his wings.”
“What’s your name?” he asks Ripley.
Ripley doesn’t respond, it’s no wonder with a mouth full of chocolate.
Belial’s brow creases, his eyes narrow and darken slightly like my father's do when he's enraged. “Do you know?” he asks me.
I shake my head and focus on the ground. I’m positive he knows I’m lying.
Belial places his hand over the lock and it clicks. I wish I had that power. He opens the door of the cage and tells Ripley to stand. He lets out a grunt of pa
in as he straightens his back.
“What’s your name? And don’t give me the fucking silent treatment,” Belial demands.
I see Ripley swallow and hear the rattle of chains from the other cages. “Ripley,” he mumbles.
Belial looks at him strangely, maybe he knows him, or maybe Belial is the one who captured him. “Turn around,” Belial says.
When I see his back, I cover my mouth with my hands and choke back tears. The wounds are still raw and weeping, and extend across his shoulder blades. They show exactly where his wings were once attached. I can’t imagine the sheer devastation at losing your most prized possessions.
A shiver runs down my spine. My father is a monster, a demon. I know he expects me to be like him. Could I be that heartless? Could I kill or harm another being purely because I can?
Staring at Ripley's back makes me want to weep. Losing my wings is, and has always been, something that fills me with dread. My father made me show him my wings once—only once—the look on his face told me he hated them. Perhaps that is why Belial is his favourite, because his wings have already turned black.
“Hades did it?” Belial asks me. I nod and instinctively reach out to touch Ripley’s back. Belial grabs my wrist and pulls it down. “What the hell, Shiloh?”
I take a step toward Ripley. “Why can’t I touch him?”
Belial looks at me in disgust. “Why do you want to? Hasn’t Hades taught you anything?”
For a moment, I’m confused. When I realise my mistake, I go right into demon mode. “I’m not stupid. Father said angels cannot be trusted. If you tell him anything, I’ll say you brought me here. I’ll tell him you touched me, and tried to kiss me like you did with Kamen,” I say, feigning a confidence I don’t have.
He cocks his head. I realise I’ve just made my second mistake. Now he knows I’ve been watching him. He pushes the cage door closed. Ripley slumps to the floor and drops his head. “We should leave then, he’ll know you’re gone if you’re away too long,” Belial says.
Untamed: Demon Soul Page 5