by S J Doran
“Child, that is Hexafire, beautiful to watch but lethal to touch, unless you are the one casting it, do not ever approach.”
As gently as she could she turned the boy away from the sight of the burning body, forcing him to face her as her lips parted on a silent gasp. He looked down, yet her fingers brushed beneath his chin to lift his head up. While taking in the sight of him, Amara experienced an emotion she had not felt in centuries. Wonderment.
Tiny horns protruded out from a curly mop of jet-black hair, matching his almond-shaped eyes. The tips of his ears were pointed. His complexion a fine-grained grey, were it made his dirty hands and feet look grubby, his clean face appeared almost luminescent within the dark hall of the temple. His features were a distinctive mixture between warlock and gargoyle, she had never seen his equal.
“Child, why hide away when you are so very beautiful?”
“He is an abomination, a taboo!”
At the accusation the child’s complexion darkened, and again his head lowered in shame. She was about to once again guide it up, when suddenly his head whipped around in the direction the accusation had come from, indignation reflecting within that bright gaze.
“I am not a taboo, I am a beautiful. Sarratum said so, and she is the law!”
The one who had spoken out of turn was one of the temple’s own acolytes, and when Amara turned to meet her gaze, she saw the woman’s eyes fill with terror, realizing the error she had made. Then she too was engulfed in a wave of green flames.
“That is what happens to people who lie to me. I confess myself disappointed. I was promised a filthy abomination, and all I got is a scrawny looking boy in desperate need of a bath and a meal.”
The boy stared at her as if Amara had utterly lost whatever was left of her mind. “A boy?”
“Fascinating.” Dominus Oberith had come to kneel beside her, his own expression filled with awe as he gazed at the boy. “The offspring of gargoyle and warlock, until now we believed the two races to be incompatible for breeding. This is the first incident of a child being born to a warlock parent in over three centuries. His genetics may carry the answer as to why the warlocks have remained barren.”
“And that undoubtedly is the reason why the institute was so keen on his retrieval.” Her brows knitted together in confusion, the child’s story seemed to grow more intriguing by the moment “This is monumental. Why was this information kept secret?”
“Not many would welcome the idea of having their warlock lineage mixed with that of gargoyles, Sarratum”
With their realm ravaged by war, the Gargoyles had needed a new home, Amara had needed allies and soldiers to reclaim rule of the realm. As a result, Asurim was now home to both races, but the adjustment had been difficult, and there had been many incidents of animosity between the prideful warlocks and the stubborn gargoyles.
Amara wasn’t an expert with children, but she guessed the boy to be around seven years of age, surely, he had family looking for him? They urgently needed to speak with them, and discover how it was that conception had been made possible.
“Child, where are your parents?” A chill of foreboding settled when he didn’t immediately answer.
“No parents, no family.”
With that statement her mind was made up.
“General Dravite, take the boy to my chambers. See that he is washed, fed, and his injuries seen to by En-Rasputin.”
“But he belongs to the institute!”
She answered through clenched teeth, the man had just sealed his fate.
“Indeed, and the institute belongs to me.”
She turned her gaze back to the child, unable to resist running her fingers through the dirty curls of his hair. To her surprise, rather than rebuke her touch the boy leaned into it, just like her demon had done whenever she had reached for him so many centuries ago. “Maleficus. From now on that will be your proper name.”
“Maleficus…” He repeated the name as if to try it for himself, he then gave her a bright smile, showing off his wicked little fangs. “I am Maleficus, and I’m beautiful.”
She couldn’t hold back a smile of her own, nodding towards Er-Agate amongst the assembled crowd, who quickly moved in to take charge of their new ward.
“Yes, you’re very beautiful En-Maleficus, but you smell like an ogre. Come with me, our Sarratum has other things she must attend to, and we need to get you washed before you start attracting flies. Then we will see about getting you some food, and contact the magick academy to collect their new student.”
“I’m going to learn magick? Can I make that pretty fire?”
They waited to until the pair disappeared through a corridor before Amara gave a small incline of her head, and Dominus Oberith’s voice broke the silence “Guards, seize them and take them to the arena.”
She looked on dispassionately as the institute's henchmen were hauled up and escorted away, while a group of acolytes set to work on cleaning up the ashes the fire had left behind. “Just another day within the ninth temple.”
With a shrug she readjusted the strap of her bag across her shoulders, the soft clinking of vials a reminder to her destination.
“Dominus, purge the institute, bring those responsible for the boy’s mistreatment to the temple and have them prepared. Excellent news, it appears we will be well stocked for the upcoming blood moon ceremony.”
She was about to finally head back for the portal when her Dominus’ voice caught up to her. “Sarratum, when you are with the sin-eater, do not forget who he is...”
“Do not concern yourself about such a thing Dominus, in four hundred years, not a moment has gone by in which I was able to forget.”
With that said, she finally made her way towards the Nessus.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
it was boredom you saw
Meetings were not his forte. Political machinations held no interest, he never had ambition enough to care to take over the world. In all ways a disappointment to his father.
Still, he’d rather be here. Rather be anywhere than back in his bedroom under Basileus’s constant scrutiny. The demon sat at his right, basking in the attention of the Erinyes, the infernal version of angels, females of such debauchery they were never allowed to wander from the hell realms.
His nonchalance was feigned. All his attention was rapt on Basileus and the women. Praying he wouldn’t get invited to join in. He’d been unnerved since the incident with the female, waiting for Bas to start making demands.
Not many dared approach him in his father’s throne, as broody as he was. Power emanated from him, and he found he had a taste for the looks of fear and cowering.
And the groveling.
Baal, his major-domo and demon of unknown power was addressing him now. “Your father’s,” Baal was saying, capturing Cass’s attention entirely.
He cleared his throat and the demon stumbled over his words. He had a lot of work to do to get this realm firmly within his grasp. They all still bowed to his father. He was treated with respect, but as an extension, not by his own right.
That was going to change.
“I meant yours— my lord.” Baal bowed deep, grovelling a bit more. “Your Spark Hunters haven’t turned up a thing. They’ve scoured all layers of the Hells and have moved on to the mortal realm, but there is no trace of the girl.”
Cass intercepted Bas’s knowing look.
Oh. That girl.
“The Lady of the Sixth requires your presence, my lord. To discuss this matter.” Baal continued, oblivious.
Cass’s entire insides tightened. The Lady of the Sixth. His father’s other child. From his true consort. Not a half-bred mongrel like himself. Would she try to contest his right to their father’s throne?
Basileus’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder, he tried not to jump. He didn’t like being snuck up on.
“Come now, Cassius. You’ll not let her cow you. You have far more power than she— that’s why your father relegated her to a lower realm
.” Bas whispered in his ear, both maintaining eye contact with the major-domo.
Cass just nodded, Bas’s fingers tracing up and down the back of his neck. He stifled the shudder and tapped his fingers on the arm of the throne. Think dammit. He had to get his thoughts in order.
Had to stop feeling like an imposter sitting here.
“If Glasya cares to meet with me, she can visit me here. In this hall.” He kept his voice steady, letting his power leak out to surround him, the darkness comforting. “Do tell her, Baal, that her brother looks forward to her company.”
Basileus’s fingers stilled. The entire room grew quiet.
Were they not aware that they were siblings? Well, half. Perhaps it had been terribly gauche of him to mention.
“Come, my lord,” Basileus’s voice was strong, the underlying tone lacking deference despite his words. “You should retire and feed. You need to regain your strength yet.”
Cass stood, motioning to a female. He hungered for more. Innocence. Corruption. Something to fill the void that his father’s sigil was sucking at. Yes, he needed to feed— but not from Bas. That just left him feeling… wrong.
He wasn’t sure what had shifted, but knew he couldn’t fully trust Bas, his loyalty would always be to Asmodeus first, no matter the past they shared. It was as though reality as he knew it was superimposed over something dark and littered with destruction. Flickering just out of rational thought.
He led the sultry redhead down the hall and into his rooms, watching her firm hips sway as she walked toward his bed.
He closed the door and turned on the female.
“Kneel.” His voice was hoarse, weak with hunger.
The woman slid out of her diaphanous robes, her ruby stained lips turned up into a smirk as she climbed on to the bed, eyes full of mischief. She wanted to play, and he was not in the fucking mood.
“Touch yourself.” He didn’t have the energy to be bothered getting her worked up. His essence seeped out, the exhaustion caused by his father’s leaching of his power causing his normally stringent control to wane.
Lust pervaded the room, the female before him going from playful minx to desperate wanton from one breath to the next. Too easy.
He focused on pulling it back, his revulsion in using his intrinsic power on a female ingrained into his very make-up. Another reason he was naught but a disappointment.
He couldn’t stay focused. He was ravenous.
Her dainty finger went into her mouth, she pulled it out slowly, her limpid eyes watching his reaction as she trailed it over each nipple and down to her cleft.
His cock stirred, he wasn’t proud. Starving was starving, and she was an erotic feast.
She let out a mewling cry as she rubbed herself, licking her lips and looking at the bulge in his pants. Which were too tight.
He pulled off his shirt, and stepped out of his pants, walked to the side of the bed and curled his hand around the back of her neck.
“I want you to take it all. Suck me as though your life depended on it.” His hand tightened slightly around his throat, and for a moment he contemplated… then she sucked him in, her tongue flicking, and his head fell back.
Fuck. Yes.
She sucked him off expertly, cupping his balls, tonguing them, devouring every drop of cum that beaded-
“Will you fuck me now?” She asked sweetly.
His hand tightened at her throat. No. he wouldn’t fuck her. He thrust deeper into her mouth, groaning as she swallowed him down. He wouldn’t dare take the chance, not when he was overdue for his potion.
She sucked harder, his balls tightening, but he just wasn’t getting there.
“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Amara’s sweetly acidic tone a warning as she entered his room.
He looked over his shoulder, holding the woman steady with his hand, trying keep the shock from his expression.
She didn’t just show up, though the portal was always open to her. They had a deal, and as such she was one of the few beings he could trust with his life, but she never freely entered the Hells.
“Come to finish me off?” He asked as she walked in. He wasn’t even sure himself if he was making a sexual innuendo or making light of the fact that her betrothed had nearly killed him.
The woman flicked her tongue again, reminding him that his cock was buried in her mouth, that he still needed release.
“Well that’s easy enough.” Amara whispered at his ear.
Agonizing pain ripped through him as hot candle wax poured down his back, Amara’s eyes lit up as she took in the ecstasy on his face.
He shot off in the woman’s waiting mouth, coming so hard he stumbled to the side.
“Leave us.” He said to her, helping her to her feet as she was still wiping her mouth.
His breathing evened out slowly, his mind still reeling. His Priestess knew secrets he wouldn’t even admit to himself.
He and Amara watched the woman leave, then he turned to pull on his shirt and pants.
“I have potions for you.” Amara smiled sweetly, venom dripping from her tone.
“Then you’re exactly the woman I need to see.” He said, slumping into his chaise, then hissing and sitting up at the not-so-gentle reminder that he probably had second degree burns covering his back.
“I know, I know. But better late than never.” She said, holding up a glass vial between finger and thumb.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
poison me sweetly
“You look different, sin-eater.”
He turned to her, giving her a sugary sweet smile, hiding the menace he was capable of.
“That tends to happen when one has been gored open by a holy weapon.”
He was trying to bait her, she couldn't exactly blame him. “As it stands, the fact you are powerful enough to survive the sword of Justice should work favorably for your reputation. Put a little fear in your minions?”
He sprawled out along the length of the worn velvet chaise, his gaze growing distant. “You pushed me through a portal and gave no thought to my death.”
Her shoulders were too tense to shrug with the carelessness she wished to convey, so she settled for rolling her eyes. No thought to his death? Ignorant demon, his death had been haunting her for centuries. It was the reason why she had pushed him through that portal, an instinctual need to save him.
“I had opportunity to end him.” She whispered, in case her voice decided to crack. “Though the effort proved futile, the sword is a hoax.”
His greedy eyes wouldn’t stop analyzing her expression. Dark gods, she prayed she could brazen this out.
“What’s your next move then?” He asked, shifting into his seat.
“Haven’t thought that far yet.” Of course she had. She just kept coming up empty, no more moves available on the gameboard.
The demon looked… restless. She noted the circles under his eyes, and well recognized the haunted expression within their dark depths. Immediately knew who was responsible for it.
Basileus, the Prince of Pleasures had subjected her Cassius to countless horrors in the past. His gaze had held that same expression each time Basileus had touched him, or had forced him to visit the harem.
Her Cassius was dead, and the sin-eater who took his place had been made to forget the atrocities the Prince of Pleasures was capable of. In the beginning of their collaboration she had tried to warn him, yet each time he had been quick to defend his friend and lover.
Telling him the truth was a risk she couldn’t afford, his damaged mind capable of processing only so much before breaking. Instead she had her spies and mercenaries installed within the Nessus to be her eyes and ears, guarding the sin-eater from the shadows for the better part of a century.
“You aren’t going to tell me?” He sat up, eyes pinning her to the spot. He knew her too well. “Do you think I would betray you?”
She could still feel his stare on her as she retrieved the bag she had dropped in the corner of the room when she ha
d walked in on Cassius giving the female an adult throat swab.
“We made a deal you and I, a binding contract,” her voice wavered as she skirted the absolute truth, “an unbreakable one.” To her kind it was a sacred pact, entered usually between life partners so they would not fear betrayal from each other. Between them, it had been business.
“Why did you come?” His dark eyes blazed, the glow from the hearth adding flashes of gold to their rich amber coloring, a cruel trick of the light making them appear to burn from within with a fire extinguished long ago.
Not her Cassius.
She averted her gaze, busying herself rummaging through the contents of her backpack, pulling out a few vials then shaking them lightly.
“You brought the contraceptive?”
“I did.” When Cass had first requested poisons that would kill his ability to procreate, she had thought some part of him remembered the promises he’d made to her in the dark so long ago. In reality it came down to him not wanting to give his father anything. Including a succession.
She looked up and he was standing right there.
“What are you doing?” With a silent gasp she backed up a step, the brightness shining in his eyes a little too close to madness. A little too reminiscent of his father’s.
He took a step closer, advancing on her still.
He kept moving in on her forcing her to step back until she hit the wall, “You know my secrets.” Another step, “I can trust you.” He trapped her against his body, his soft whispers seducing her mind while his body set hers on fire.
“And you could never betray me.” His expression was dark, the set to his jaw telling her he had firmly decided on something.
“What if I don’t take it this time Amara,” his hand closed over hers, the one that contained the poison that would render him temporarily infertile, “what if instead I decide to take you and have you carry my heir.”
A family? Do you think you’d ever want children, Cass?
Only if they have your eyes, Amata.