by S J Doran
“Hail Avrogale, mother amongst the ether…” she abandoned herself within the mantra, her mind transcending into the ether, where Amara was found by a goddess she was not expecting to hear from.
“You call on another goddess when I am still owed?” Kali’s voice, though familiar and not considered an enemy, filled her with apprehension. There was only one reason she could think of for the goddess to come to seek her out.
“Hail Kali.” She inclined in reverence to the goddess, the gesture one of self-preservation. The goddess was the epitome of dualism which made her both unpredictable and dangerous.
“I’ve decided what tribute I require in payment for saving you from Namtar’s grasp.” The goddess’s face twisted into a malicious sneer. “I want the wild magic of Gaia, the energy guarded by the Dark Fae King. He favors you.”
“No…” Indignation flared through her at the very notion. She owed Kali a debt, but she owed Gwynn far more. Kali had saved her life once, Gwynn had done so over the span of a century, he had helped her survive.
“Leave Kali. She’s come to speak with me.” A different voice, one she didn’t recognize echoed through the vast nothingness.
Kali gave her a lingering look, loaded with consequence. “I will not be denied my due, priestess.” Then she faded away into the folds of creation.
“Amara.” The voice was kind, feminine, the form failing to appear. “I can feel your despair, child. Bound to the ether I cannot cross to you. What has happened to my son?” Her tone turned cutting.
Avrogale
“Come to Kur.” Shock turned her words sharp, her reply short.
The air around her shuddered. “Why would my son be in the underworld? He’s not…?”
“Dead, no. But not for a lack of trying. I can guide Cassius deep enough into the wandering fields of the Sumerian underworld for you to reach him. To speak with him.”
“You would do that for me?” There was a smile in that voice, the voice growing bright, and she knew the goddess was smiling even without seeing her. “Or, for him, I suppose. Your soul bond was finally sealed. Your union has been consummated, and recognized.”
“Don’t tell him,” she hissed, then clamped her jaw shut when she remembered who she was talking to. “Just not until we find a way…”
A gusty sigh moved over her like a breeze. “I will speak to my aunt and try to make peace long enough to see the two of you there. Only if you can get him through safely, daughter. I won’t have his life at risk.”
Her heart pounded, the ether fading with her rising panic, her body instinctively pulling her back into awareness. The magic of the wards lent their strength, helping to bind her consciousness to the realm, but they required focus. Connection was fading too fast… She wouldn’t be able to sustain the link much longer. She had to ask, there was too much depending on it.
“Do you know where Asmodeus hid the Ruby Rod?”
But she was back, firmly in her body, surrounded by burning candles and the absolute silence of the inner sanctum.
She’d made contact, now she just needed to get him there.
Charon offered the safest crossing into the underworlds, but his price was steep. Lost life, spilled tears and gold. A quick trip to Anu-Hia would secure the obols, the rest was up to the Herald being able to locate Basileus. Cass would spill the tears, and Basileus would die.
Let’s start a riot
He was distracted. Distractible. He was here in body, his mind, well, that was back in Asurim where he’d left his heart. Hell, his entire world.
Here it was ‘blah blah blah—war’. Fear was thick in the entirety of the Nessus, higher-ranking demons from all the realms crowding his throne room, their raucous voices intruding on his thoughts.
He looked around, making mental notes. “Where is Mammon’s representation? Or Baalzebal’s? Do they still think to ally with my sister, now Princess of the Pits?”
Yes. He had strung Glasya up in Belial’s pits. She would get free, eventually. Basileus and Leira were out there, likely waiting for their moment to free their ally. He’d posted guards. They could be bribed — but for now, he was satisfied knowing she was suffering, physically at least.
He dropped his hand when he realized he’d been rubbing at his chest again. Her sigil was healed, once again intact. She was still there, he felt her.
He could still breathe.
“Belial is dealing with problems of his own.” Mephistopheles’ herald spoke. “His daughter has decided she is unsatisfied with being a mere princess.”
Cass just nodded. They had all known that was coming. Feirna was clever and ambitious. Becoming friendly with Glasya had been the end of her father keeping her under his thumb.
“Bind the warlocks from the Hells altogether.” That statement rang clear across the room, to his waiting ears.
“They aren’t meeting their offering quota,” an answering voice called. “Cut them off!”
“We need more sacrifices, they’re turning on us!”
He jumped to his feet, power releasing with a sonic boom.
Fucking finally. Silence.
He was tired of the circular arguments. How many times could they keep returning to the same damned point?
“The Warlock Queen and I will not be breaking our truce.” He eyed each one of the heralds. Dukes of hell, the highest-ranking demons under their overlords.
He supposed he should feel flattered. He did not. He felt attacked. He was suffocating.
They were worse than buzzards circling a corpse. His throne room was a riot of angry, shouting demons and here he was, no Jez and no Levistus.
Repeatedly, the phrase ‘not fit to be king’ rose above the din. The theme of the night. Too bad for them, he was King, and he had no intention of giving that up.
Azadiel had called in reinforcements by way of the Warlord Vesarius who had recently been in Belial’s employ. His Spark Hunters were no help, far as he was concerned they seemed to be guarding him rather than acting as his guards. Like they’d be able to stop him if he ended up saying fuck it and giving in to the undying urge to set his magic with hers and let it free to destroy.
“Enough.” He walked to the edge of his dais, silencing the crowd. “Unless there is something constructive to be said, you’re all speaking in circles. I’ve heard it all. There is no one in these realms powerful enough to depose me, so at this point, you’re all talking out your asses.”
Azadiel choked, quickly covering his face.
“Mephistopheles…” one of the archdeacon's herald’s spoke up, quickly going silent at Cass’s glare.
“Has no desire to rule.” He paced the edge of his dais, staring them all down. “Do we need a demonstration of power, or are we all going to slink off back to our respective realms and report to your rulers?”
“We’ve got nothing to report!” Another demon shouted.
“And nothing of that will change,” Cass growled back.
“Fall in,” Vesarius commanded the soldiers he’d brought with him, and all along the walls, pit fiends stepped out, crowding the room further.
With nowhere else to go, the demons formed a line at the temporarily opened portal and started filing out.
“Your exhaustion is showing.” Az leaned in, whispering.
“I was doing just fine,” Cass said, his jaw setting. He’d been sitting here listening to them go on for hours…
“Thinking about her.” Az nodded sagely.
He pinched his bottom lip between thumb and forefinger, unable to deny. She was always there, moving through his essence. Haunting his mind. They’d always had each other.
How would there ever be any other way?
“I’m done Az,” he sighed, some of the tension finally easing.
Az nodded. “We’re covered here for the night. When did you say your Herald would be back?”
“I’m here. What’d I miss?” Jez’s too cheery voice cut in, the Herald walking up from behind his throne, rubbing fingers through his
damp hair.
Az chuckled humorlessly. “There now, Jez’Piel’s returned. Go relax. Eat.”
Cass smiled grimly, gave Az a pat on the shoulder and clasped Jez’s shoulder, steering him along back to their rooms.
His lonely, silent rooms. He took off his irritating crown, carelessly tossing it to the desk with a heavy clunk. He’d worn one of his fancier ones tonight, carved jet and yellow diamonds, hoping it would give the illusion of authority. He’d been kidding himself.
There was no way he was going to be able to relax here, alone. He couldn’t sleep soundly without Mara. At least now he had some inkling as to why he was like this. No. Don’t go there.
He was an addict, and she the poison that had claimed his life. He couldn’t consider his mind his own any longer; she owned it. Him. Mind. Heart. Soul.
He had no idea who he was without her, and any time he tried to figure that out… it just didn’t end well. Within her chaos, he’d found his calm, and he couldn’t seem to manage being parted from it, not without suffering.
He was going to have to.
“Come with me?” He met Jez’s pitying glance and picked up his hand, leading him across the hall.
Black scorch marks still clung to parts of the flagstone where the flames had settled too deep to merely scrub away. The acrid scent of burned synthetics teased the air, the one and only pristine thing in the room was the wooden cradle in the corner.
It looked rather ominous. All the dark wood and red velvet sitting in a room that had been gutted with destruction.
“Help me take this back to Mara.” Cass nudged Jez with his elbow but didn’t take his eyes off the bed that would have protected his daughter.
“Course.” Jez’s hand pressed to his back. “Yeah, don’t need this shit cluttering up the place.”
He didn’t want any reminder of the life he could have had. Should have had—
“Maybe I should go ask her if she wants it back first?” He finally looked over to Jez when the angel didn’t answer.
Jez narrowed his eyes, his thumb running back and forth across his closed mouth. “Either way, it can’t stay here. Bring it back to her and I’ll help you fix this room up.”
It took him a while to drag the heavy cradle through his hellgate, backing into the room and pulling it was the solution he settled for. He missed seeing Levistus, but not his voice. He sounded infuriated.
“Meph told me you got the Obols,” Levistus shouted at Mara.
“Why don’t you and the old gossipmonger keep your damned noses out of my business?” Mara shouted right back.
“Maybe he thought you were finally going to meet your end of our bargain and bring me to her.”
Mara’s magic stirred up, immediately swamping him. His breath caught, and he stepped up behind her, cradle forgotten, as she ignored Levistus’s blustering and leaned back against him, reaching behind to pick up his hand.
He grabbed it hard and pulled her back, breathing in the scent of her hair.
“Did you meet your end of our bargain?” she hissed. “You never gave him my message, did you? Just let him believe I’d abandoned him!”
He had no idea what she was referring to. He’d never felt abandoned by her.
She straightened up, notching her chin, and Cass looked around her, meeting Levistus’s gaze as his hands slid around his Mara’s waist from behind.
He bent down, his lips tracing up her neck, his eyes closed as he absorbed her scent.
A bottle slammed down on a table, shaking Cass back to his senses. Mara was fully leaned into him, both of their powers humming—
He stepped back a bare inch and moved his arms up to her shoulders, unwilling to forsake touching her entirely.
Levistus stood, red-faced, his hand clenched around a goblet of amber liquor, glaring at them.
“Why are you not in the Malebolge?” Cass said, caging Mara in his arms. Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, tingling with magic.
“Because I am starving there! If you two children care to remember, you sacked the sixth temple and left it in ruins, no worship can be offered there, no sacrifices make their way to the Malebolge.” His chest heaved with exertion.
“Because he is looking to resolve a bargain,” Mara’s tone was cold. “One he never met his end of.”
Levistus’s black eyes gleamed with defiance. “Cassius. Amara will be back for you. She didn’t leave you by choice,” he said with a tight smirk. “You never gave me a deadline.”
Cass’s head jerked back at the zap of power that leaked out of Mara’s palm. She quickly turned to face him, her fingers resting lightly on his lips, eyes blazing with ire.
“He wants to join us when we go to Kur,” she whispered up to him, and he ran his hand into her hair to cradle the back of her head, his gaze riveted on her lips.
All the shit he was expected to do and all he wanted was her. Alone with nothing but a bed for a month would do. To start with.
“We’re going to Kur? You talked to her?” His thumb tugged at her lower lip, his heart pounding. Want. Need.
… Just a kiss.
“I really couldn’t care less if the two of you end existence as we know it,” Levistus snarled, “but could you at least wait until I speak with my Benzosia one last time?”
Mara blinked, the lust haze clearing from her eyes, replaced with calculation. A malicious little smirk turned up her lips.
“He found out I went to Barnaby for the Obols.” She smiled with evil delight and leaned in closer. “I never intended for this to be to his benefit.”
“The obols. For the ferryman.” Levistus’s voice was hushed as he contemplated the contents of his glass. His eyes raised, pinning Mara with their intensity. “So why now? Obviously, it’s not for my benefit.”
“Avrogale has answers I need.” Mara shrugged off Levistus’s burning ire with casual nonchalance. “Cass needs,” she whispered.
He chuckled low, securing his hold on her and rocked her side to side.
“My brilliant assat-shi.” He brought his lips down to hers, hovering. “She spoke to you? We’re actually going to see her?” The thought made him more excited than it should. She abandoned him. No good mother would have done that.
She smiled, but there was hesitation in it. “I have to show you some things I kept. For you.”
“Why did you return to her, boy? Who is here acting as a buffer between the two of you?” Levistus’s cold tone burst their intimate bubble.
He snarled over at Levistus. “You need to be in the Malebolge, holding it secure. I asked you to do this. I could have made demands.” I’m still your King hung in the air between them.
With an exaggerated bow, he turned back to Mara. “By your leave, then. I shall gather up Jez to accompany the two of you, and see my way back to my barren realm, until such time as you are ready to find Benzosia.”
Levistus stormed out of Mara’s room, out into the temple, towards the portal, giving him and Mara a few precious moments alone.
“I’ve had a pretty damned terrible day. I don’t want to be alone.” He nipped the lobe of her ear, his hand wandering from her hip to her thigh, then up, his fingers seeking. “I’m starved. For you. Will you feed me, amata?”
“Yes.” She turned her face to his, her mouth finally meeting his.
Feasting. Devouring. Dark gods, was there anything better? He gripped her hips and ground up with a groan, her soft moan urging him on.
“We playing poker?” Jez’s booming voice carried through the room, followed by Agate’s nervous giggles.
Cass jumped, but there was no damned way he was letting her go.
“Levistus suggested we stop in and check on things,” Agate said, her meaningful gaze on Mara.
“Cass, you need to go feed,” Jez said, his brow scrunched as he studied him.
“Mara and I were just going to read,” Cass snapped back, glaring at his herald, trying to swallow down the guilt.
Mara gave him a questioning look, then
her expression shifted. “Yes. Read.” She nodded and ran off.
She came back carrying a massive tome with both arms wrapped around it, setting it gently on the floor in front of the mantle and laying on her stomach in front of it. She looked up at him and patted the floor beside her while Jez and Agate made themselves comfortable with a large bottle and a deck of cards at one of the side tables.
“I saved our secrets,” Mara whispered to him. “Everything you told me about your mother.”
Cass’s stomach dropped. He bumped his shoulder against hers, laughing a little. “You little… secret hoarder. Fuck I love…” he swallowed his words down and lowered his mouth to hers.
Jez cleared his throat, loud. He jumped back from Mara and dropped his head to his arm.
He growled over his shoulder, “Aren’t you supposed to be tracking down Bas?”
Mara smirked up at him, placed two fingers on his chin and turned his face back around. “Pay attention. This will be important.”
“Just… tell me what I need to know, Mara.” He couldn’t even look at her. His heart was openly bleeding out inside of his chest. He just hoped the end would come soon.
Oddly enough
Seeing Cass starved served as a cruel reminder she was not allowed to ease his hunger, see to his needs as was her right, or even her own.
Restless nights and unsatisfied lust affected her mood, fueling that sense of anger, disappointment, and resentment within. It all blended together into a toxic mix that coursed through her, consuming her; one she needed to purge.
In his tirade, Levistus had provided her with the perfect target to unleash her venom upon. How dare Lucifer put her up for topic at his tea-time gossip sessions? With the old goat himself, no less.
Crawling out from under Cass’s arm, she left the demon passed out from exhaustion, between grueling court sessions and not properly feeding, her demon was wearing himself thin. A scowl knitted her brows.