Seconds later, Belial appears in front of me. He’s not looking at me, rather, he’s looking through me, as though I’m invisible. The light fades and the heady scent of honey and cinnamon lingers.
“Belial?” I question. He doesn't reply.
He squats and the water ripples at his feet. He’s on top of it, weightless and oblivious to his surroundings. As he turns to me, he fades away. There's a flash of light before he appears again.
This time he's younger, maybe five years old. Small white, feathered wings flutter on his back and between them, his spine is lined in fluffy down. Tiny particles of sparkling dust float above his head then disappear quickly. Is that purity?
His hair is black and curly and his eyes are bright, sparkling blue. Around his wrists and ankles, he wears thick black cuffs dotted with pointed silver studs.
I tilt my head and watch him closely. I try to call his name but when my mouth moves, there’s no sound.
He turns his head to me and in a pleading whisper, he says, “Father, I cannot do it. I don’t want to kill him.”
Oh, no. No. My heart aches and the weight on my chest forces me to gasp for air. The innocence and sorrow in Belial’s eyes, and in his voice, is overwhelming. I fall to my knees unable to peel my eyes away from the scene before me.
A deafening crack breaks the silence. Flames appear in the background. The amber haze reflects off the water’s shimmering surface. Belial stands, but another crack sees him fall to his knees. He clasps his little hands on his thighs, and his eyes meet mine.
“You will do as you are bid, my son,” the voice bellows.
I gasp and cover my mouth. I know the voice I’m hearing belongs to Hades. A shiver runs down my spine. I’ve heard his voice before, though I can’t seem to place it right now. Was he in my dreams? I take a step toward Belial but something blocks my way. An invisible barrier allows me to see, and hear everything.
Belial brings his hands—still clasped—to his chest and begs, “Please father, take my wings. I do not need them.”
A silver dagger slides across the surface of the lake and stops at Belial’s knees. “Kill it,” Hades commands. His voice is filled with rage.
A small, scruffy grey puppy bounds toward Belial and jumps up, its furry paws land on his knees. It looks up at him with big brown eyes, and Belial starts to cry. He drops his head in his hands. His tears sparkle as they roll down his chubby little cheeks and land in heavy silent drops on top of the lake.
I can’t see Hades. I only see the braided leather whip. It cuts through the air and cracks as it hits Belial’s back leaving behind a thick, raised welt. Blood seeps from the wound and trickles down his spine where it causes the beautiful, fluffy down to gather in clumps of crimson red. Small feathers fall from his wings and leave behind bare patches of featherless barbs. Belial doesn’t make a sound. His wings fold immediately, but open again when Hades growls and commands him to look up.
“You think I will allow you the luxury of a pet? You are the dog, boy. I own you,” Hades roars.
Tears well in my eyes. He’s a little boy, and Hades is a monster. He is a true demon. Belial reaches for the short, sharp dagger. He tilts his head and looks at the puppy with tears in his eyes. I raise my hands and scream at him to stop. I call his name and punch my fists against the invisible barrier. My own screams echo back, taunting me. The heartbreak and pain of my life is nothing compared to the terrifying horrors of Belial’s childhood. I sink to the ground with my hands pressed hard against my chest.
I can barely breathe as I watch Belial place a gentle hand between the puppy’s ears. “I’m sorry, Doggie,” he says.
There’s yet another crack of the whip. Instinct tells me to run across the lake and shield him from this unimaginable torture. When I try to move, my feet are frozen in place and all I can do is watch on, while my heart shatters into a thousand pieces.
Hades bellows, “Never apologise.”
As Belial clamps his eyes shut, he raises the dagger. When he brings it down, he disappears with the puppy leaving only blood red ripples on the water’s surface. It seeps toward me, and I scramble back as the crimson water laps at my feet. I clamp my eyes shut again hoping I will be freed from this nightmare and whisked back into the heavenly Kingdom where everything is pure, and beautiful.
Guilt takes over, my hands shake and my knees tremble as I stand and stare into the blood red lake. I want to run to Belial and tell him I understand what he’s been through, to tell him none of it is his fault. I can barely think, let alone speak.
Minutes feel like hours before finally, my eyes adjust to the Lake of Redemption. The sun has set and in the darkness above, millions of stars twinkle in the midnight blue sky. Their beauty will never cease to amaze me.
My mind though, has been branded with images of Belial’s horrific childhood. I cannot imagine the horrors he witnessed and endured in the Underworld.
§§§
With my head down, I make my way across the grassy meadow toward Belial’s parents’ cottage. I didn’t want to come alone, but Lani assured me there was nothing to fear in Heaven. I’m positive if she ever has reason to drink from the Lake of Redemption, she will most certainly change her mind.
Ayla, Belial's mother stands with the door open wide. She pulls me in for a hug and plants a gentle kiss on my cheek. It’s a motherly embrace, one I relish in, one I’ve truly missed. Tears spring to my eyes and I wipe them away with the back of my hand.
“Welcome, Lola,” she says.
Ayla extends her hand and offers me a seat at the kitchen table adorned with a delicate lace tablecloth and a crystal vase filled with pale pink tulips. The open kitchen looks into the lounge decorated with luxurious furniture and framed oil paintings depicting landscapes—or heavenscapes. On ornate timber pedestals, large statues of goddesses and angels stand, their alabaster marble forms are smooth and detailed, right down to the curve of their full lips, and the minute details of the angel’s feathered stone wings.
Ayla speaks softly, “Darling, you are finally here. Are you ready to find out who you are?” she asks.
I nod, though the reality is, I’m not sure about anything. While I’m still wondering about my past and have hope for the future—nagging doubt plagues my mind.
Ayla takes my hand. “Lola, first tell me about Belial, has he been kind to you?” she asks.
I smile a little and decide to tell her the truth, as least half of it anyway. “Well, he’s been a little mean, and angry. Sometimes he’s nice. Honestly, Ayla, he’s moody. I think he’s bipolar, no offence,” I say.
There’s a glint in her eyes when she laughs. “Do you think you may love him?” she asks. Her tone sounds hopeful.
I let out an overly expressive sigh and shake my head confidently. “No, I don’t love him.” As the words leave my lips I doubt myself, but I cannot admit to anything else, not yet.
“Lola, darling we didn’t choose Belial specifically. We chose our first-born son and as it happened, Belial was born only minutes before Bastian,” she says. “Where and how Belial was born did not change the promise we had written. It was bound by blood and the ancient laws of the angels. It was always to be.”
“Do you know what happened to him, down there?” I ask.
Ayla nods once and clasps her hands together. “As angels,” she sighs, and a single sparkling tear rolls down her cheek. “As angels, we have the ability to see many things. Belial is my son, we share a bond that can never be broken. Not even by Hades himself. When you arrived, I saw Belial’s memories in my own mind.” She smooths her hands over her pale blue dress and drops her head. “I will forever regret leaving my son behind,” she says. “It was not my choice.”
I place my hand on hers. “You saw everything?” I ask.
She raises her head to meet my eyes. “I saw enough.” After a brief silence, Ayla tells me, “Belial was sent to kill you, Lola. When he saw you something inside him changed, something stopped him. It is the bond you share. He
will never harm you.”
I rub my head as I think about the confusion and torment Belial must have felt, and must still be feeling now.
“What did they do to him?” I ask, though I’m not sure I truly want to know.
Ayla says, “After each encounter with you, Belial was led into the chamber of the Ninth Circle of the Underworld where he was chained to a marble altar.”
I cover my mouth with my hands. No. Not because of me. Tears once again well in my eyes as Ayla continues. “They were relentless in their torture. Belial was branded, beaten and abused, they took him to the brink of death and brought him back. Every scar is an unknown reminder of his past. A permanent legacy of the desperation and darkness that plagued his body and soul in the depths of the Underworld. When he saw you, Lola, a light was switched on deep inside his subconscious, a glimmer of what I believe must have been the hope he always carried deep within his angel heart.”
I hate Hades. I hate him for what he’s done to Belial and his family. I hate him for what he’s done to me. There must be a way I can make him pay for all this pain.
“I’m so sorry, Ayla, I’m to blame for all of this,” I admit.
Ayla stands and kisses my head. She offers me a cup of tea, then explains, “Lola, Belial’s love for you is ingrained into his heart. It’s in his blood. He needs you as much as he needs his wings to fly. As Zadkiel said, Belial may have a demon soul, but he certainly has an angel heart. After his time here in Heaven, you’ll come to see it’s true.”
I nod and thank Ayla as she hands me a delicate porcelain tea cup decorated with blushing pink and ivory roses. I take a sip and place the cup on the small gold rimmed saucer. I’m eager to hear more and I ask, “What about me. What am I? Am I a furie like Belial said?” Could Ayla transform me into someone worthier of Heaven, and all it encompasses?
Ayla shakes her head. “Lola, Belial was not aware you were not born to a mortal mother. You cannot become a furie,” she explains. I’m not a furie? My eyes are wide, I'm on the verge of figuring out who I am.
“Was she an angel?” I’m already nervous and I tap my feet on the floor.
Ayla squeezes my hand. “Lola, darling, your mother…” she sighs and tears well in her eyes.
That alone tells me my mother may no longer be alive. Sadness creeps into my heart and threatens to consume me. I take a breath and concentrate on what I still have. I remind myself to be thankful I’ve been allowed to come to Heaven, without having to die.
“Your mother was my dearest friend. We were close and confided in one another about many things. Zadkiel and I spent many days on Mortal Earth with your parents until.” She hesitates and dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “Until the day before you were born when Genesis refused to allow us to leave Heaven. He told us your parents had made another sacrifice. To this day, we have no idea what it was, or why.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. Although I’m heartbroken, a sense of calm comforts me. and I wonder if Ayla is using her angel powers to force a heavenly, peaceful tranquillity upon me.
“Lola, your mother, Harmony, was from Arcadia,” she says.
“Arcadia?” I ask confused. What’s Arcadia?
She nods. “Yes. There are seven heavens, Arcadia is the first. Your mother was an angel. Lola, she was Queen of Arcadia.”
I gasp and swallow hard. My mother was a Queen? She must be wrong. My heart is pounding like a jack-hammer as Ayla explains, “Arcadian Angels are known as the Guardians of Heaven. Your mother was the keeper of the Emerald Onyx, the necklace you wore as a child.”
No. Oh no. “A Queen? My necklace?” I clamp my eyes shut. This isn't happening, it's all a dream. It must be a dream.
Ayla must be reading my mind because when she speaks, I gasp again.
“You’re not dreaming, Lola. It's all real,” she says. “The Emerald Onyx is the rarest stone in all the worlds, and encased within, is the Ninth Ring of Hell.”
Ayla takes both my hands and holds them in hers. “Lola, you have more power than you know. With the Emerald Onyx, you can free the angels who have been wrongly captured by the demons. The necklace will protect you. Hades and his demons cannot harm you while you wear the Emerald Onyx. It is the balance between Heaven and Hell. It is the most precious and valuable stone to ever exist,” she explains.
I pull my hands from hers and press mine to my chest as I think about my necklace. When I was child, I was positive it would come to life at night with an entire galaxy swirling inside, sparkling with vibrant colours and protecting me as I wandered through my dreams. My stomach coils in knots, and my palms sweat. I clamp my eyes shut and take long, deep breaths. It's no use.
I stand and pace the room back and forth until I stop at the window and gaze up at the starry sky. I rub my hands over my head and walk back to Ayla. “The one stone that controls the balance between Heaven and Hell, is mine?” I question.
Ayla nods. “It is, Lola.”
I put my hand to my forehead, it’s hot and clammy and goose bumps cover my arms. My body is working overtime to come to terms with what is now reality.
Cress! “I gave it to Cress.” I rub my hands over my arms then stop at the table and gulp down the cup of tea. I tell Ayla, “She was… ah, Cress was going to a party,” I say. My head pounds as I remember the day I let Cress wear my necklace, and never bothered to ask for it back.
I start hyperventilating. A weight bears down on my chest and I hear Ayla calling me. I place my hand over my heart and beg it to stop beating so damn fast. I sink into the darkness. I’m dreaming again, and being consumed by an empty void where demons and angels call my name.
TWENTY-FIVE
Lola
Heaven
§§§
As the fog lifts from my mind I hear his voice, frantic, worried. It’s unlike anything I’ve heard before. What’s going on?
“Lola, Lola, wake up.” I open my eyes to find him staring down at me. Why am I in his arms?
Belial brushes my hair off my forehead. My heart skips a beat and I instinctively put my hand over it, hoping to calm the swell threatening to turn me to putty right before his eyes. Unexplained thoughts fill my mind. Will Belial be the same back on earth? Will he ever want me again? Is this kindness purely because we’re in Heaven? Does he know I’m a Princess? I twist my fingers together nervously and wonder if I should enjoy this moment while it lasts. My mind is made up when Belial’s eyes meet mine. I suck in a breath of air and hold my breath.
His gaze is intense and his slight, half smile causes me to exhale. “Are you okay now?” he asks. He sounds truly concerned.
Ayla’s voice cuts through my confusion, “I only told her what she came to know, Belial. She needs some time to take it all in.”
I fainted. Yes, I remember now. I rub my eyes and sit. Belial’s arm doesn’t leave my waist where it’s wrapped around me.
“Why are you here?” I ask him.
His lips curl into a smile before he speaks, “For you, obviously,” he says.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. What is going on? Where has my temperamental demon gone? My demon? What am I thinking? No. He’s not mine. My mind is a whirlwind of unanswered questions.
“Lola, darling, how do you feel?” Ayla asks.
Outwardly, everything is starting to make sense. I’m beginning to understand what they mean when they talk about balance. Within myself, I’m confused. Part of me is incomplete. I’m merely a giant piece of a puzzle that doesn’t fit no matter where you try to place it. I’m standing alone and helpless at a busy crossroad, spinning around in circles, searching for answers that never come. Suddenly the pieces fall together and I realise. “I’m an Angel Princess?” I ask.
Ayla and Belial stare at me, smiling. I jump from the sofa and almost scream, “Oh, my god! I’m an angel. Do I get wings?” I ask Ayla.
Belial shakes his head. “That’s your question?”
I narrow my eyes, plant a hand on my hip, and point a finger at him. “You
got wings, why didn’t I? And why am I a half-blood and you’re not? It’s not fair.”
Belial shrugs, and Ayla takes my hand. “Lola, darling, when you were born your parents had already made a sacrifice and were bound to live on Mortal Earth for eternity.”
I frown and sigh then plonk down on the timber chair at the kitchen table.
“You were raised as a mortal, Lola,” Ayla says. “Your angel light, your immortality and your wings were taken to ensure you presented as a human child, with no knowledge of your ancestry,” she tells me.
I stand again, frustrated. Ayla puts a hand on my shoulder. “When Vex and Belial found your parents, we begged Genesis to let us find you. He gave us six hours. We rushed to Angel Bay. By the time we arrived, your parents were gone. We assume they were killed by Vex, or perhaps taken to the Underworld and killed by Hades. We took you to The Bay Children’s Centre. Genesis would not allow you to return to Arcadia, nor would he allow us to stay with you.”
Belial leans back on the sofa, watching me as I pace the polished hardwood floor.
Ayla explains, “All sacrifices are bound by ancient laws. Only another sacrifice can undo what has been bound by blood, and set in stone. As a mortal, it was easier for you blend in. You already had eight years’ experience on earth, and with the Emerald Onyx in your possession, Genesis assumed you would be safe. A wonderful couple adopted you. Unfortunately, they were also killed.”
I choke back tears as I remember my adoptive parents and how wonderfully kind and loving they were. They knew nothing of the demon who would come to take their lives because of me. Because of me. All of this is because of me. My heart weighs a tonne and I inhale, and exhale, trying to focus on each breath as Ayla tells me about the demon who murdered my adoptive parents.
“The demon who killed them, and allowed you to live, was Hades himself. He could not kill you as you were wearing the necklace.”
Untamed: Demon Soul Page 18