“Change?”
“Yes, when you die, you’ll get the choice. The Angel of Death will come, and he’ll ask you to choose.”
I put my head in my hands, confused, and angry. “Now there’s an Angel of Death, too?” I swallow against an acrid taste in the back of my mouth, dreading the answer. “Choose what?”
Belial lets out a heavy sigh. “A side, Lola. You really are stupid.”
My emotions take over and the tears fall. “You’re an asshole, Belial. How the hell should I know all this?” I extend my hands and shout at him, “I’m nineteen years old. I hate you!” I run outside and sit on the grass, sobbing like a baby. What now?
Furies, half-bloods, immortals. Nothing makes sense. There’s an ache that won’t go away, a longing to be something more than just human. Maybe I am a furie. Surely my adoptive parents would have said something, given me some idea of who I am. What if they didn’t know about the demons until it was too late? I close my eyes, searching my memories for answers; there are none. My birth parents seem to have been wiped from my life, it's almost as though they never existed at all. All I have is a fuzzy recollection of blue eyes and black hair, nothing else.
I hear the door of the cottage close, then his heavy footsteps. “Lola.”
“What?” I say angrily.
Belial looks down at me and says, “There’s no point whining about it.”
I get to my knees and wipe the tears from my eyes. “I don’t get it.” I’m crying again. “If I’m dead, how do I choose a side? Death is final, isn’t it?”
Belial shoves his hands into his pockets. “No. Please tell me you know about Heaven and Hell?”
“Of course, I do. I’ve never been dead, so I haven’t seen either place.”
He extends his hand to me, and I take it and stand. “Right. If I kill you now, you’ll get a choice. You can go to Heaven and become a full-blooded angel. You’ll live up there and never see the mortal earth again,” he says, nodding toward the sky. “Or you’ll choose the half-life, where you’ll become a furie. Either way, you’ll have some powers. As a mortal half-blood, Genesis has a duty to give you a choice. You are, after all, the spawn of his children. The other option is that I kill you now and send you to the final true death. There, you will have no choice.”
I stare up to the open sky. The fluffy white clouds blow gently in the breeze. It's warm here, warmer than I'm used to, and I wonder if this place is close to Hell, like Nevermore.
I drop my hand from Belial’s and put it on my forehead, it’s clammy and a wave of nausea washes over me. “So, I choose good or evil? That’s stupid, Belial. Why would I choose to be evil? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It will when you’re dead.” He waves a hand toward me. “Humans, you’re all the same, even the half-bloods. You all think you’re perfect, but everyone has two sides.”
“You?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not me, I’m a demon. A son of Hades.” Even as he says it, I sense he doesn’t quite believe his own words, or his own existence.
I kick the dirt. “And then what do I get to do? Come back here and piss you off again?”
He laughs, and for a moment I can see he does have another side, a different side. His eyes are brighter, as though the black has faded a little, if that’s possible.
“Can I meet this Angel of Death?”
He grunts. “No.”
“I have questions,” I tell him.
“You’re not a queen, Lola. You don’t get questions.”
I cross my arms. “I need to know before I decide, and what if you die?”
He laughs again. “I won't die,” he says. He rolls his eyes. “I’ve killed more people than you’ll ever meet. You think I can't kill someone before they get to me?”
"You told me you lie. You said you’re an expert at it. Why should I believe anything you tell me?” I plant my hands firmly on my hips.
Belial starts walking back toward the cottage. “I don’t care, believe me or don’t. It makes no difference,” he says, as he walks away.
I run after him. “I don’t believe you. You didn't kill me when you were supposed to, there must be something about me you want.”
He stops and turns to me. “Want? I don’t want you, Lola. Don’t flatter yourself. It’s curiosity, nothing more.”
I tilt my head and shove my hands into my pockets. “Well then, when you find out why you haven’t killed me, I’ll decide.”
“Fine.” He takes me by the arm and pulls me into his chest. I sigh as he takes off into the sky again.
THIRTEEN
Lola
Mortal Earth
§§§
I open my eyes, and we’re in a small country town, standing on the sidewalk of the main street. There are shops to our left, and to the right there’s a park with a playground full of children. Behind the playground, ten-foot high chain mesh fences stretch on for miles, and a large sign in the shape of a kangaroo reads, Oakfield Wildlife Park.
Belial pulls me back behind the wide trunk of an old oak tree. He leans back and casually runs his hand over his head then starts picking at his fingernails.
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
“Waiting. You want to know about furies? I’ll show you.”
My eyes dart around, searching for anyone who doesn't look normal. “Furies are here?” I ask, confused. He shushes me. Walking toward us is an older man dressed in a business suit. I cross my arms and look down nervously.
“He can’t see you,” Belial reminds me.
The man comes closer, then stops a few feet away to answer his phone. He seems agitated and talks about an appointment and meeting someone at Café Charm before continuing along the street.
“Ready?” Belial asks. I shake my head, but he takes my hand and pulls me close to him. We walk down the street, a few steps behind the man who’s holding a small black briefcase in his hand. The scent of his cologne wafts past me. People walk by chatting and looking down at their phones, unaware there is a guy with wings right in front of them.
“See her over there?” Belial says, pointing to the café. “She’s a furie.”
I look past the man and I’m stunned when I see her. She’s beautiful, with long brown hair braided into thin strands, and woven with gold and silver thread. From her head, two shiny black horns, around six inches long, curve upwards on either side. She’s short like me, standing at only five-foot-tall, and damn she’s fast. As she runs, the long, sheer tan dress she wears swishes around her ankles like she’s floating above the ground. She’s nothing like I expected. She’s pretty in a childlike way, and her skin is pale white.
With a hint of annoyance, Belial tells me, “That is a furie.” I nod, fascinated. “Their goal is to mess with mortals’ minds, to try and alter their inner balance and cause havoc. They’re good at finding weaknesses, but they’re fucked up. Unless she tries attacking me, or you, I’m forbidden to touch her.”
He shakes his head, and we continue walking toward the café. People are all around, but no one sees her. She starts running, first to the door of the café, then back to the outdoor tables on the sidewalk. She reminds me of a child skipping and giggling.
A man walks into the café, oblivious to her. When she gives him a push, he stumbles and bumps into a mother with a baby swaddled in her arms. The mother is clearly annoyed and her hands cover the baby’s head protectively. The man laughs and continues through the doors.
Belial points to the man. “See how easy it is for them to turn mortals into bastards.”
I walk in step with Belial, watching her every move. She stops suddenly and turns her head toward us. “She can see me?” I whisper to Belial. He nods. She looks up at him with a cheeky grin and starts giggling again. She spins around in circles on the spot, then runs straight at me.
I take a step closer to Belial. “Belial,” I say anxiously.
Before I can blink, she’s in front of me, staring into my eyes. She bats her lashes and smiles. Up close I s
ee the tiny brown freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks like a dusting of powdered chocolate. Her lashes are unbelievably long and curled, and frame her sparkling brown eyes. There’s nothing about her I dislike, she even smells good, a mixture of cinnamon and musk.
She leans into me. “Want to play?” she whispers in my ear. Her voice makes me smile, though I try not to let it show in front of Belial. “Come and play with me,” she insists.
I shake my head and step back again. She reaches out. On her wrist, a small tattoo shows an orange flame surrounded by a red circle. In the centre of the flame is the number six. It’s the same as the graffiti I saw spray painted on the doors of the building in Nevermore, and the same tattoo the female in Club Stygian had on her shoulder.
I want to ask Belial about it, but I’m distracted when the furie touches my cheek with her fingertips. I instantly feel lightheaded.
Before I can react, Belial grabs her by one horn and spins her around, then slams her into the brick wall. I’m astounded and step back, worried he’s killed her. To my shock, she shakes her head and jumps up, laughing hysterically.
Belial raises one hand signalling her to stop. “Leave!”
She’s still giggling as if she’s high on drugs. Behind me, I hear her sweet, childish voice. “Oh, oh, oh, Lord Belial, can I play with her, please?”
I turn around as she runs back toward the café. She’s like an overexcited, hyperactive toddler. She jumps onto the small outdoor table where a mother sits with her child, and she knocks a drink over. The little boy cries and the mother curses at him. People stare as she tries to wipe up the spilled drink and calm the little boy at the same time.
Belial takes another step toward her. “Enough, leave.”
She smiles and throws her head back, laughing wildly again. “No, no, no, not yet. This is so, so, so much fun.” She spins around with her arms out wide, making a mini cyclone that blows leaves and rubbish around the outdoor seating area.
Belial points to a guy walking out of the café. “There he is.” He has shoulder length blond hair, and tanned skin, and he’s wearing baggy shorts and fitted white tank top. He doesn’t appear to be a furie, a demon, or even an angel.
“Who is he?” I ask.
Belial sighs. “The next guy on my list, Lola. Do you think I’d waste my time coming here for nothing?”
Another murder. Great. I ignore him and my eyes follow the furie. She heads straight for the guy and I watch, hoping he doesn’t see me. Of course, he doesn’t, but I’m sure he sees the furie. She turns to Belial with a look of disappointment on her face.
He smiles as he raises an eyebrow and nods. “See you in Hell,” he says.
“No, no, no!” she screams as her body swirls into a cloud of brown and gold dust. I stare down at the glittering pile of dirt that was a furie only seconds ago, wondering if she’s dead, or has just disappeared like Belial does.
The young guy cocks his head. “Who are you?” he asks Belial.
I gasp. “He can see us, Belial?”
“Do not move,” Belial says. I only nod as he draws his sword. Even in broad daylight it glows neon blue.
The guy steps back and shakes his head. He raises both hands in surrender. “No, no, please,” he begs to no avail, as Belial’s sword pierces his chest. He falls to the ground in a heap and blood pools beneath him. I cover my mouth with my hands. Do not scream.
“Let’s go,” Belial says, walking away.
I stare down at the guy, shocked at how Belial can kill someone so easily. Demon hitman. I remind myself, as I selfishly focus on my own life. I run down the street to catch up with him. “Is the furie dead too?” I ask.
He slides his sword back into its sheath. “No. She’s in the Underworld. She’ll be back.”
Puffing, I jog to keep up with his long strides. “I don’t get it.”
His brow creases and heat radiates off his body as he stops in front of me. He takes my arm and comes closer. He doesn’t look angry, merely confused.
I ask, “Are you going to explain?”
He drops his hand. “She’s a furie, Lola. They can be summoned back to the Underworld at any time.”
“Oh, so she just disappears like you do then?”
He shakes his head and continues walking. I follow him as he explains, “No, I shift, or fly. She turns to dust and reappears in Hell.”
“So, if I’m a furie, I’ll look like her after I die?”
“No, you’ll look like you, but you’ll have horns and your skin will be paler than it is now. If that’s even possible.” He cocks his head and stares at me.
I am not pale.
I need to know more. Belial slows his pace obviously realising I’m almost out of breath. “Are there boy furies?”
“Yes, Lola, there are male furies.”
I smile. “Can I see one?” I ask.
Belial shakes his head in exasperation and stops again. “I should kill you. You’re pissing me off you know.”
I nod. “I can tell. So, can I see one?” I ask smiling. He rolls his eyes, grabs my arm and keeps walking. I pull away from him and stop. “Please, Belial, if I’m one of them, why can’t I see them?”
“Keep walking,” he demands. I don’t argue and follow him down the street, toward another park. In the distance, there’s an old cemetery.
We come to a stop at the tall wrought-iron gates that are covered in twisted, brittle branches of dead ivy. They creak as Belial pushes them open. The inscription on the sign is old and weathered, Oakfield Cemetery 1836.
We follow a narrow rocky path through beautiful old gravestones and moss covered concrete angels, their faces gaze up to the heavens with their wings spread wide.
We come to a large oak tree, its branches create a canopy of shade above us and at the foot of the trunk, a small marble headstone is half buried in the black soil and green moss spreads along the edges. The inscription is unreadable and old and worn from the weather, with a jagged crack that splits it down the centre.
Belial closes his eyes and drops his head. I watch him intently, studying his features. The slight curve of his lips, small scars on his left cheek, and the long thin scar on his neck that trails down in a perfectly straight line and ends in the middle of his chest.
He opens his eyes and lifts his head, then leans against the trunk of the tree. “They’re coming,” he says.
“They?” I ask confused.
“Furies. The males are forbidden to leave the Underworld alone; they can’t be controlled without a female.” I laugh a little, but Belial doesn’t, so I bite my lip nervously and wait.
I smell her before I see her. The female furie is giggling again, running toward us. She stops and looks up at Belial as if he’s a god. “Go and play,” he says, waving her away. She skips through the cemetery, jumping over graves and singing in her childlike voice.
I turn back to Belial and see a male. His beauty steals my breath. He’s gorgeous and he’s walking right toward me. I swallow hard. He stops in front of Belial and bows his head.
“Lola, this is Zak. Zak, Lola.” Belial doesn’t sound at all impressed.
Zak turns to me and cocks his head. His thick, shiny black hair falls in waves down to his broad shoulders. He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt, and on his wrist, I see the same tattoo the female furie had. It’s as though it’s an omen, appearing when I’m most confused.
Zak's neon-blue eyes stare into mine as he comes closer. I smile, but he doesn’t. I cross my arms and bite my lip. “Um, hi Zak,” I say nervously. Still he says nothing. Instead, he turns to Belial, who nods, then he turns to me again and takes another step.
He’s just inches from my face as though he’s studying me. “What are you?” he whispers. I shrug, speechless and almost breathless, as if he’s sucked the air right from my lungs.
After a few seconds, I find my voice and speak, “I’m you. I mean, I’m a half-blood. I might be a furie… I don’t know.” I take a step back to give myself some space,
he follows. I focus on Belial, my eyes pleading with him to say or do something. He only raises his eyebrows and grins.
The female furie runs back to us and grabs Zak’s hand. “Play,” she says in his ear.
He ignores her and keeps his eyes fixed on mine, making me uncomfortable.
My knees start shaking. “What’s your name?” I ask the female furie, hoping to break the spell Zak seems to be in. She smiles and kisses Zak’s cheek, then reaches out to me.
“Do not touch her,” Belial warns.
She jerks her hand back and giggles. “My name is Piper.”
I smile, still focused on Zak. “Where do you live?” I ask Zak. Piper laughs loudly then stops suddenly. She’s silent and the same look of disappointment is on her face again. I wait for the dust to appear and take her away, nothing happens.
She raises her hand and points a finger at me. “Ooh, you have it,” she says, with her eyes wide.
Zak cocks his head. “You have it?” he asks.
My eyes dart between the two of them before I focus on Zak again. “Have what?” I question.
“The ring. You have the ring,” Zak says.
I shake my head confused. I have no idea what they’re talking about.
“She doesn’t have it, idiot,” Belial says.
Zak leans into me. His breath is hot on my cheek, and my heart races as he whispers, “Hell Combined. One Ruler of Nine. You have it, Lola Thorne.” What the hell is he talking about? And why is everyone so damn gorgeous?
From the corner of my eye I see Belial step away from the tree and come toward us. “Time’s up,” he says.
Piper shakes her head. “No, no, no,” she whines.
Zak extends his hand and brushes his fingertips across my cheek. “See you in Hell,” he whispers, and they both disappear into a cloud of dust.
I stare up at Belial. “What was he talking about, Belial? What ring?”
“Nothing, Lola. You don’t have it, trust me. If you did, I’d know. And don’t think you’ll be getting anywhere near Zak again.” I can only assume he hates Zak as much as he hates Ryder.
I walk beside Belial as we head out of the Cemetery. “They’re not what I thought,” I say honestly.
Untamed: Demon Soul Page 11