Devil's Punch

by Ann Aguirre

  “Give me a truthful response and we’ll go to bed.” Manipulative, certainly.

  “I love you,” he bit out. “You’re the same to me. These days I don’t care who I’m talking to, whether you’re fierce, ambitious, and powerful, or sweet and soft. I love both sides, and I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “You love me?” Shock reverberated through me. Consorts did not love the queen; they submitted to her will. They obeyed. They hoped for favor.

  But love? Never.

  Until now.

  “Awfully,” he said. “Endlessly. It’s a torment.”

  My heart shifted. Softened. The human woman pushed, pushed, until she surged forth, spinning me away.

  “Chance, it’s me.” I touched his cheeks with my fingertips. “I’m still in here. Just…she doesn’t let me drive very often.”

  “Corine?” His desperate happiness sparkled like polished diamonds.

  “I’m here. I love you.”

  “Thank God.”

  Before I could savor his mouth on mine, she shoved me back. This wasn’t union. It was a revolving door. Not what she’d promised.

  The other banished, I stripped him from his clever tailored suit and he tore away the layers of my gown with its spell-enhanced fabric. Once it came down to skin, we weren’t gentle. Primal impulses drove him, and I fed that fire with uninhibited response.

  Chance kissed me again and again, his hands frantic on my body. He backed me up, one hand curled around my head. Each step pressed us closer with a tantalizing friction. His hard heat drove me wild.

  “Not the bed,” he growled. “Like we almost did it in Kilmer.”

  A swirl of memory eluded me and then firmed. Held. Chance backed me into the bathroom, spun me, and pressed me up against the bathroom door. I felt every inch of my nakedness in contrast to his sleekly clothed muscles. He’d grown even harder since I left. When his mouth took mine, he didn’t ask if I wanted it, or if I’d permit it. Heat sparked between us like two live wires and I came up on my toes.

  The wall felt cool against my back when he pressed me against it this time, but I was different now. I was done turning him away. He was mine, and I’d never let him go. I curled a thigh around his hip, then he lifted me. In his ferocity, he was a selfish lover, hard hands on my hips, working in mad, deep thrusts.

  I urged him on with nails in his shoulder. In this position, I couldn’t move much. He was in control. He liked domination when the protective urge rose—and submission when it didn’t. In turn, I enjoyed him tied to my bed, but I also enjoyed the rare sense that I’d lost control.

  And then I did. I screamed and scratched, rational thought gone. He arched into me and came in hard pulses that left him weak. Both shaking, we staggered to the bed and collapsed on it. Chance wrapped his arms around me as if he couldn’t bear to lose contact with me for even a moment. I’d never permitted myself to bond so deeply with a lover before. He was in my head, my heart, down to blood and bone. Somehow, her feelings had become mine. She had gouged out a channel inside me that belonged to him alone.

  “Better?” I whispered, kissing his shoulder where I’d scratched him.

  Shivers still wracked him, but he smiled at me with eyes gone molten gold with satiation. “More relaxed, anyway.”

  “Are you sorry you came with her?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair as he considered. “No. I can’t claim I dreamed of reigning and having babies in hell, but it’s not terrible.”

  I nodded, curling into his arms. “Sheol has its beauties.”

  “Like you.” He kissed the top of my head. “I was so scared I’d lose you…and this time, there’d be no coming back from it, no chance to beat the odds.”

  “You mean because I’d be all Ninlil and no Corine?” That didn’t trouble me; he had loved her first, but he cared for me too. He was, truly, an extraordinary male.

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t want to destroy her. Only survive. The angels took everything from me…and I had harmed no humans. I seek no foothold there. My subjects come to earth in response to human ceremonies, complete with offerings and rituals!” Even now, the unfairness of it boiled my blood.

  “I don’t think most people realize that.” Chance levered up on one elbow. “Explain to me why angels and demons hate each other so much. They say you fell or something? There was a rebellion in heaven?”

  The question distracted me from what might be happening downstairs. Anger lanced through me. “That’s rubbish. If there is a heaven, the angels have never seen it. They create their own legends, every eon or so, and then update all the manuals.”

  “There are manuals?” he asked, a brow arched in surprise.

  “I don’t know. I was being sarcastic. The truth is, angels and demons are descended from the same lineage. They come from Sheol, just as we do. It’s not heaven or hell.…It’s just another realm.”

  “Interesting.”

  “There was a civil war, but it wasn’t over God or divine orders. It was so long ago that even our records are incomplete. I only know it had to do with a question of succession. It was before the first Ninlil took the throne, before the castes formed as we know them. There were only two types early in our history…the winged and the walkers. We were more beautiful then too, but once half our number left, it led to inbreeding, and you end up with monstrous creatures like the Noit and the Aronesti.”

  “What happened next?”

  “The demons won,” I said quietly. “We booted the losers out of our realm to yours, where they went to work interfering with the course of human history. Now they have a new tale, a new hierarchy, but it’s nonsense. An ancient ka, who calls himself an archangel, organizes their mythology according to his personal agenda.”

  Chance frowned; I had succeeded in rattling him. “Ka?”

  “In some old languages, it means spirit and that is an accurate enough name for us, what we used to be.” It hurt me to remember these things because then I had to consider how I’d learned them. The information I gave Chance had not come to me easily or without anguish.

  As if he keyed into my thoughts, Chance asked, “How do you know all this? You said the records are incomplete.”

  Hard to explain in words, but: “When the archangel summoned me, there was a moment of unity, where I knew him…all his thoughts and memories. Some of it stayed with me, after I was wrenched away and he bound me to the Solomon line.”

  “So you saw inside this…archangel?” I could tell he no longer liked the term.

  “Yes. He was very old. He would have been a king in Sheol with such power.”

  Chance nodded. “He might have led the revolt.”

  “If I ever knew, it was not one of the memories that stayed with me.” A half shrug in apology—I was not the queen I had been—but sometimes different didn’t mean lesser. Perhaps the kindness that came from my human half permitted me to see things in a new light, and would result in a brighter future for Xibalba.

  The light of debate sparked in his eyes. “You’re very critical of how the angels interfere in the human world, but how are demons better? So many are just so…evil.”

  I raised a brow. “So are humans. Am I to judge your race on those who prey on children and dismember their loved ones? You have not met every demon in Xibalba. Many are interested only in living their lives. Some enjoy pain. Others craft magickal trinkets. Do you see a pattern?”

  A wince revealed that I’d scored a hit. “You’re saying demons are like humans, some good, some bad, some neither.”

  “But I would, wouldn’t I? Especially if I’m an amoral, lying she-devil who only wants to steal your seed.”

  He laughed softly. “A pity I keep ruining the challenge by giving it to you. Why do you think he summoned you?”

  More anger, dagger sharp. “He wanted a general for their war against us. They bred among you in the early days and gave birth to the most brutal of their foot soldiers, the Nephilim. Since then, these angels
have used humans as their pawns. I see nothing good in the way they kill, convicting their victims on blind faith.” I shuddered, remembering. “I loathe knowing she shared this body with one.”

  “I…what?” Beside me, Chance froze. “Corine…?”

  “Before I woke, she slept with one. You call him Kel.”

  “I knew about that. Not that he’s Nephilim. He says he’s the Hand of God.”

  I scoffed. “Those fools are made of empty titles. I suspect the archangels invent them to inflate their minions with false consequence and reinforce their blind faith when it falters.”

  “So there’s no master plan?”

  I shrugged. “If there is, I have no knowledge of it. Sheol is old, but so is your world. There are no answers to some questions.”

  He hesitated, as if unsure whether he ought to ask something. I encouraged him with a nod. “Did she…did Corine know his nature, when they—”

  “Yes. She loves him, you know.” Horror rolled through me—hers—in a quiet wave—and her protest echoed in my head. Not anymore. I love Chance. You’re only saying that to make him prefer you. “That is not an affection we share, unlike the one for you.”

  Chance pushed out a shaky breath, looking as though he’d been punched in the throat. “I’m done with personal questions,” he said quietly, eyes closed.

  I hate you for this. I ignored her pain and grief.

  “I love you.” I touched his cheek and wondered if he knew that I had never spoken those words before.

  His lashes flickered up; they were thick and spangled his eyes like stars. I felt I could stare at him forever and let the city burn. That, in truth, was too powerful an emotion. I should love no one person above the city that I ruled. Yet I did. He was the quiet repeating echo at the core of me, the smile within every heartbeat, and my dreams when I slept. The human Corine laughed in my head, delighted she’d given me this weakness.

  Then he smiled and my heart nearly stopped. “I see why they fought and died for your favors.”

  Heat touched my cheeks. “Have you been listening to gossip?”

  “They tell stories.”

  “About what?”

  “The old days when you tired of a consort and held a match in the arena. Scores of demons entered the lists and the survivor joined you in your bed.”

  “I expect they told you I had my lovers killed once the affair ended.”

  He nodded.

  “It was…prudent,” I explained, marveling that I felt the need for his understanding. “A consort who has fallen out of favor can foment rebellion among other malcontents, destabilizing entire zones.”

  “Any man would be bitter over losing you,” he said.

  I had heard such words before shaped in idle flattery, but this was the first time I believed them. His sincerity sparked between us, and it was terrifying. I had lost myself once; I could easily do so again.

  “I love the way you kiss me.”

  He paused, distracted. “You do?”

  “Yes. You kiss me like you mean it. Always.”

  “I lost a layer of civilization somewhere along the way, I guess, but I’m glad it works for you.” Chance went on, not looking at me, “Tell me where this ends. An execution when you tire of me?”

  The pain at this mere possibility eviscerated me. I would do anything to prevent it. Kill anyone. Burn the city I loved. His safety might as well be written in runes on my skin; I could never harm Chance.

  “Never. You’re mine, always. I will bind myself with the ritual they use upon the Imaron to reassure you, if you wish. That way, any actions I take against you would cost my own life. In truth, I’d prefer it that way.”

  He kissed the tip of my nose. “No, I don’t need the spell to believe you. Can’t live without me, huh?”

  “I can,” I said. “I don’t want to.”

  “Me either.” He leaned his forehead against mine.

  Greydusk knocked then. I donned a robe quickly, dropped the wards on the door, and answered. “Is the estate secure?”

  “It is, my queen.”

  That night should have signified the best time of my life. It should have heralded halcyon days.

  Instead it marked the beginning of the end.

  All In

  Two nights later, the first indication of new trouble came in the form of a terrified Noit servant dancing outside my door. “Monsters,” it shrieked. “Monsters!”

  Since the Noit preferred to communicate in annoying, obscure rhyme, the situation must be dire, even if I didn’t have all the details yet. I dressed quickly in my combat clothing—all black—and boots, athame strapped to my thigh. Chance was already pulling his pants on, roused by the Noit and the commotion outside our rooms.

  “Report,” I demanded of Greydusk as I found him in the hallway.

  “The Vortex has gone down.”

  “What? How is that possible?”

  “Unknown, my queen. But the Xaraz have taken the opportunity to strike. They’ve overrun the Luren quarter and are marching toward the Barrens.”

  “And the monsters?” Chance asked.

  Greydusk replied, “You remember the Gorder? There are worse things in the wastes beyond our walls. Thumpers, magickeaters, wailers. They’ll all come without the Vortex to repel them. It will be mass carnage.”

  The Imaron seemed shaken, looking to me to set the situation to rights, but I’d never even heard of a spell strong enough to disable the Vortex, even temporarily. Unless…“Could it be done if all the surviving Saremon worked in concert?”

  “Perhaps,” the demon answered.

  A link of that magnitude, similar to what Greydusk and I had done in the courtyard, would be unspeakably powerful. Normally demon mages didn’t trust one another enough to permit such an undertaking, but when their survival depended on my extermination, desperate times called for desperate measures. It was a bold stroke and one that would end the battle once and for all.

  I wished I still felt confident that I would win.

  “Have they breached our walls?”

  “No.”

  “Protect the city,” I said. “Send a runner to the Hazo. They must fight. It’s what they live for, after all.”

  In earlier times I would have had a trained military to handle this threat, but I was still putting the pieces back together. They’d struck sooner than I expected, and I wasn’t ready. My spies hadn’t brought me the names of the conspirators, so I didn’t yet know who I could trust.

  Helpless and blind, Corine whispered in my head. You are no true queen, only a pathetic echo of ages lost. Let me out. Let me fight.

  This was an odd juxtaposition. Once, it was me, whispering to her as I scrabbled to gain a foothold. Now, I felt tempted to turn the mess I’d created over to her. While I worried, Chance slipped his gloves on, flexed long fingers, and whispered the command word. Flames burst to life around his knuckles—a pure white-blue, unlike the last time.

  I glanced at Greydusk. “Does that mean something?”

  “The gloves only burn like that for a true king.”

  Chance offered a crooked smile. “Told you.”

  That roused a smile and dampened some of my worry. “Did we confiscate anything that could help in defense of the city?”

  “No, my queen. You instructed me to focus on household goods.”

  So I had. It seemed important to get the palace habitable so I had a base of operations. A queen did not beg shelter from her subjects like a supplicant. In consequence, I wasn’t ready for such a battle. Fine. I’d improvise. My human half was best at that anyway.

  I grabbed the Noit running up and down the hall, delighted with the chaos it had created, and slapped it across the back of the head to settle it down. Satisfied that I had its attention, I demanded, “Were you outside the walls just now?”

  “Yes, Majesty!”

  “And you saw the monsters?”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  “And where were they? How far away?”
/>   I couldn’t cower and let the Saremon wreck the city. There would be nothing left for me to govern. If the creatures had already ruined the Luren sector and were headed to the Barrens, there must be a reason—

  “March, march, eat our hearts!” it sang.

  “Offer me another poem instead of a sensible reply and I’ll eat your heart myself.” I meant it, though it would doubtless be black, shriveled, and disgusting. Even if it made me sick for a week, I’d keep my word.

  The Noit knew it too; the creature sobered. “Apologies, my queen. Sometimes one gets carried away playing the clown.”

  “Understood.”

  “The situation is dire. The gates have fallen and the Vortex is long gone. The Noit and Phalxe sectors are burning. There are monsters everywhere. Magick hangs in the air, remnants of heavy spell casting. People are panicked, and they’re fighting in the streets. I’m not sure they even know who the enemy is.”

  “Tell the castle staff not to venture outside the courtyard walls. Dismissed.”

  The little Noit scurried off to carry out my orders, leaving me with Chance and Greydusk. Before I could formulate a plan of action, Shannon ran down the hall toward us. Her black hair was spiked, standing on end, but not on purpose, and she had dark circles beneath her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well. A pang of regret pierced me. I didn’t want this life for her.

  “What the hell’s going on?” she asked.

  Greydusk filled her in while I paced. Leaving the castle grounds might be foolhardy if the Saremon were trying to draw me out, but at least this would end. And then I had the answer. Thank you, human female witch. A quieter echo: Thanks, Mom.

  “This way,” I said. “Quickly.”

  “Why?” Shannon asked.

  “No time. If you’d rather stay in the palace, it should be safe.”

  “No way. Have you seen the things that live here? No offense,” she added to Greydusk.

  The Imaron bared his teeth. “None taken.”

  “I’m with you,” Chance said.

  “Even if it’s a wild, implausible plan?”

  He kissed me hard on the mouth. “That’s the best kind.”

  At top speed, I ran through the corridors, ignoring the way the frightened servants dropped to their knees. I didn’t have time for ceremonious behavior. The towers at each corner led to the walls overlooking the city square. With the others trailing behind me in various stages of interest and confusion, I dashed up the steep, curving stairs to the top of the wall, where there were a few guards posted.