by S J Doran
“Jez.” She shook the angel’s shoulder lightly, for whatever maggoty reason trying to be considerate of Agate who was sleeping across his lap. The two interlopers passed out on her sofa some time ago, chaperoning duties forgotten once Cass had fallen asleep.
Jez squinted open his eyes, his brow furrowing at the sight of her leaning over him.
“Crawl in bed with Cass so he doesn’t wake up. I’ve got to go deal with some stuff.” She didn’t want him reaching for her and finding the bed empty, feeling that same sensation of loneliness which plagued her each time she’d woken to discover him gone.
Taking the time to bathe and change only gave her temper more time to build. Did they discuss her in pitying whispers? Or perhaps it was sport to mock the warlock who would be queen over tea and crumpets? Were they plotting Cass’s downfall? Worse yet — devising new ways to keep them separated? She could handle anything but that. She needed him, the intensity of that need building with every passing moment.
If he were dangled before her any longer, she’d likely turn vicious, like an animal denied sustenance only to have it constantly waved in its face. Could be she was just irrationally angry due to sexual frustration too.
She fastened the small chains on her robes. Either way, Lucifer was about to get an earful.
One thing she could say about Mephistopheles’s odd choice of servants was that they were congenial. Had no problem leading her straight back into his private suites, opened the door for her with no fanfare. Didn’t bother to see if he had company first. Her feet froze at the sight of him entwined with Domina Elmira, both starkly nude and… sweaty. Dark gods. Another thing to add to her list of things she’d rather never have seen.
Elmira squealed, pushed Mephistopheles off her — making the whole thing worse — because now Mara could see… the whole thing.
She wanted to close her eyes and cringe, instead, she planted her feet and notched her chin, knowing she had the upper hand.
“Whatever would make you think it’s any business of Levistus what I am doing or what I intend to do?” Her voice remained steady, even as Lucifer proudly stood, maintaining eye contact as he shrugged a housecoat over his shoulders. Really, rumors suggested he had good reason to be proud, but she didn’t need proof. “Domina, odd place to find you. ”
“Sarratum sa.” Elmira had to clear her throat to make her voice work.
“Tea?” Meph asked as he wandered over to a sideboard held up by a disturbed looking mortal specter.
“Whiskey?” Her brow lifting in question.
“Why are you here, Amara?” He poured her a drink of questionable looking whiskey and handed it to her, holding the glass until she made eye contact.
She scowled, wrenching the glass away, sniffing it before she drank. Far too sweet to be whiskey. “Because you told Levistus I met with the Captain and what I purchased. Neither of which was any of his concern.”
“Ah. But you are his concern.” He sipped at a cup of tea that Elmira had handed him. “Why do you need payment for the Ferryman? Does it have to do with your ex-fiancé in the crystal?”
She hissed, couldn’t help it. “Also none of your concern, old man.”
“Can’t I be concerned, Amara? I had to watch you die, after all.” A flash of what could have been honest remorse went through his eyes. “I saw what it did to my King.”
“You’ll need a gatekeeper,” Elmira said, stepping closer now that she had suitably clothed herself, her eyes narrowing as they ran over Mara’s face. Whatever her Domina saw, it surprised her. “The Prince of Pleasures would suit well, but his sister took him and escaped before the commotion died down that day.”
“You’re after Basileus?” Meph stood straighter. “If you kill him to gain Charon’s attention, you’ll be cutting off Asmodeus’s only link to the outside world, driving him to desperate measures.”
“I know, I know.” She rolled her eyes, having been through this already with her demon. “Openly declaring war, got it. Still going to kill him, hoping it to be a violent death.”
Meph winced. “Watch your pride Amara, it comes at a cost. Asurim is in as much upheaval as the Hells themselves, can the two of you afford another enemy at this time?”
“Better an enemy we know.” Her voice may have given away the quakes that had started up inside of her.
“Is it?” Meph raised his brows and placed his teacup on a side table, crossing his arms and tapping his thumb on his lip. Funny in that moment how much he resembled Aza. Made her almost miss her former tutor. Traitor. Almost.
He finally looked back at her, then to Elmira. “Might be the time has come for all the players to take the board. Locate Basileus for her?”
Elmira nodded and Mara jerked back. Taking an order from a demon and not her Sarratum? She was lucky she hadn’t directly asked. Did no one take her seriously anymore? They’d all ignored her orders that day, some had since. Small instances that added up to a big alarm. She’d lost their respect and her authority had diminished. Going to have to fix that. And soon.
“Princess Feirna has been entertaining the Prince of Pleasures. His sister was with him, but her essence is fainter.” Elmira spoke, still partially in a trance. “The Rod…”
“By a ribbon connected are the sword and rod,” Elmira repeated the echoes of her own prophecy. Amara’s markers.
“There you have it. If Feirna has him, he’s in Belial’s realm,” Meph said, picking up his teacup, balancing the saucer in one hand and taking a dainty sip. “Don’t let Cassius go after him. Aside from his history with Basileus, Feirna likes him a little too much.”
“Wasn’t planning on it. That’s why he has a Herald.” Her nostrils flared as she prayed for inner strength to fight back the jealousy that was rearing its ugly head. “Thank you for your help.” His brows rose in surprise and she was nearly offended. “You gossip about me with that old goat again, I’ll have your balls made into a broach to gift to my Domina.”
Mephistopheles was smiling so brightly when she left him it caused her to wonder about his sanity.
As soon as she returned, she shook Jez awake. “I know where Basileus is. Leira was with him, might catch both if you act fast.”
Jez hurried out of bed, tucking the blankets back up over Cass and walking back over to where Agate still slept on the sofa.
“Gatie?” he whispered, “we might be able to get Leira. Get up and dressed, quick-like.”
“Remember I want her head on a garden spike,” Mara said as she slipped back into bed beside Cass, where she belonged.
The Way We Were
“You’re absolutely certain this is what we need?” Cass swirled his drink, watching the mini whirlpool. Opposing forces, creating a vortex. Fascinating stuff.
“I have no idea how else to proceed,” Mara said, placing her hand on his chest. “If there’s a way she can help… I have to believe there’s a way.”
He lost interest in his drink and set it down, needing both hands to touch her. His hands slid around her waist and pulled her flush to his body, brushing his cheek across the top of her head.
“She wasn’t strong enough to help… before. What if…”
Mara pulled back, glaring at him. “I would never consider myself the eternal optimist, but I refuse to play the ‘what if’ game. Until we exhaust all options, I will still fight for our chance. Why else would we have survived?”
“Someone’s idea of a joke?” He smiled as he said it, trying to break the building tension.
“Works for me, I enjoy getting the last laugh.”
They both knew Bas’s time was counting down, wherever he was, he was living his final moments. Cass highly suspected it meant different things to each of them. He hadn’t pried for details of all Bas’s crimes against Mara; he had a vivid imagination and his own experiences to draw on. He didn’t want confirmation. Instead, he finished his glass of potent liquor and hoped it would be enough to numb him from his thoughts. Dwelling wasn’t going to help anything.
/>
The portal finally flared to life, both him and Mara stiffening. Bracing themselves.
“We’ve got Basileus for you,” Jez said to him as he hauled the unconscious demon prince into the center of the room, dropping him unceremoniously. “And a message from Belial. He wanted you to know he was not aware that his daughter was harboring this criminal and so on and some bullshit.”
“Leira got away,” Agate said as she followed Jez in. “And I don’t think Feirna was as innocent as en-Belial was trying to convince us.”
“The princess is mostly harmless,” Cass said with a shrug, his eyes glued to Basileus’s lax expression, the demon eternally beautiful while he slept.
“So is herpes...” Agate’s biting tone carried no love for the demon princess with a vast reputation for tormenting her subjects.
“Speaking of venereal disease, thanks for securing our key into the underworld,” Mara said, her voice back to its usual imperious tone as she pressed the toe of her boot into the demon prince’s side.
Cass straightened and pulled himself together. If she could do it, he could do no less.
“Going to explain how this works?” He faced Mara, schooling his expression, suppressing the feelings that were running far too close to the surface.
“Easy,” Mara said with a careless shrug. “Once you end his worthless existence, we have our entrée with Charon. The ferryman will answer the call of the grieving if the circumstances are right.”
“And what circumstances would those be?” Cass said, leaning over the desk, still staring at Bas.
“One who has access to the ether,” she gestured to herself, “and one with the blood of the old gods.” She held her hand toward him and his stomach sank.
He didn’t want to owe anything to his mother’s contribution to his make-up. As it was, he resented it more than anything. Not enough of a demon to fit into his father’s realm. Not enough celestial blood from his father to have their attributes, nothing ‘godly’ about him to speak of. Just a watered-down version of each. He owed neither anything.
He tried to hold on to the anger. Everything that had been done to him, every scheme Bas had orchestrated. Memories of sky bright eyes sparkling with laughter as they walked through the halls of the fortress…
No.
He could do this. He knew the only reason he felt any connection with Bas was because he was manipulated into it; it wasn’t truly there. Knew it, didn’t mean his feelings agreed.
“Has to be done, right?” He tipped back the drink, swallowing it before the taste could coat his tongue. “It’s overdue.”
Her eyes flashed. “Past overdue.” She snatched the glass out of his hand and refilled it. “Think of how freeing it will be after it's done. You won’t ever have to worry about him again. One less viper within the nest.”
He nodded, took a deep breath and took out his ceremonial dagger. Time was up, procrastination was no longer an option; Jez and Agate had been efficiently successful.
Those two now sat angled towards each other, Jez quickly moving his hand from her lap and looking up at Cass as he and Mara walked into the center of the room. His eyes were full of some poignant emotion, possibly reflecting the turmoil that Cass was feeling inside. He stood and walked over to Cass, placing his hand on Cass’s shoulder with a light squeeze, his mouth opening then closing again, rethinking whatever he’d been about to say.
Jez wrapped his hand tight around the back of Cass’s neck and put his forehead onto Cass’s. “Just… remember why you’re angry with him.”
He should have mentally prepared a lot better than he had. Whiskey burned in his gut, warming his blood, relaxing him—a bit too much. This was far different from being in the heat of battle. Would that he had killed him then.
He swallowed reflexively, trying to keep his stomach contents down, gave a brisk rub against his chest when cold started seeping through. He shot another quick look at Amara, but her expression was fixed on Basileus’s prone form and gave away nothing.
“Is he drugged?” Cass turned to ask Jez, who had been watching him and Mara. “Should I wake him up? I don’t know what…”
“Leave us,” Mara said to Agate with a nod towards Cass and Jez.
It was time.
“Will you go get Levistus?” Cass whispered, not trusting his voice. Jez nodded and stepped back. “He’ll be waiting.”
“We won’t be long,” Agate said to Mara over her shoulder as she tugged on Jez’s sleeve.
He focused on Mara as Agate dragged Jez the rest of the way out of the room, studiously avoiding the passed out heap in the middle of the room.
“I can’t do this for you,” Mara said, her voice emotionless, but he could feel her simmering anger. “Your sacrifice grants your petition with the ferryman.”
He nodded, turning the ivory-handled dagger in his hands.
“He’s helping himself to what’s yours.” Bas’s saccharine words floated through his memory. “One day, you’ll grow to love this.”
He had more reasons to hate him than to spare him.
He dropped to his knees and pulled the full weight of Bas’s body up to his, cradling the back of his head with one hand as he pressed the dagger to the back of his neck with the other. He looked up to Mara, for strength, some assurance, but her eyes were on the parchment she held between her hands.
He flushed with heat, then the cold settled in, numbing his hands, his body shaking with it. Sweat beaded at his temples, the dagger grew slippery in his grip. He pressed harder, the rubbery snick of the skin giving way causing a wave of dizziness that nearly made him collapse. The tip of it hit bone, and he had to adjust his slick grip, trying to find the leverage he needed.
Bas’s eyes blinked open, glazed with pain and the agony of looking into the eyes of his once-lover stole his breath. Bas opened his mouth to speak, and with a burst of strength, he rammed the dagger through the vertebrae, wrenched up to separate them, and watched the light fade from the Prince of Pleasure’s eyes.
Mara was speaking words of an ancient incantation, all Cass could focus on was the vacant stare of the once-powerful demon prince. For hundreds of years, his only friend.
There would be a void now the Hells would have to fill. The number of Princes never changed, the power would be passed on to another. His father was now without a herald. And Cass would never have to lay awake at night and worry about Bas entering his bed again.
He lowered Bas’s body to the floor and sat back on his heels, staring down. Mara’s hand rested on the top of his head and he leaned into her touch, wrapping his hands around her waist to drag her down on to his lap.
He got lost in the cyan depths of her eyes, her fingers swiping across his brow, a gentle reminder to release the tension. He wasn’t sure how he was feeling. Relief? Certainly. His chest was heavy with grief though, and it shouldn’t be. Damn it to the hells, he should be happy about this.
Mara shifted, wrapping her legs around his waist and laying her head against his chest, her hand pressing to his rapidly beating heart. He brought up his hands to wrap around her, realizing he still had a death grip on the dagger. He dropped it and looked at his blood-coated hand with disgust.
“Off.” He said, his voice breathless. “Please. Off me.”
She looked up at him, brows drawn in confusion, but she moved anyway, slowly standing. He got to his feet, moving mechanically to the closest bathroom, slamming the door behind him and turning the tap to hot.
He scrubbed at the blood with the soap, watching the water go from red to pink as it swirled down the drain, his mind buzzing, his body numb.
It needed to be done.
He should be relieved.
Someone was pounding on the door, rattling it against its hinges.
“Cassius, it’s time.” Levistus’s voice boomed over the sound of the running water.
Levistus was here, it was time to move forward. The entrance of the long-forgotten underworld would be revealed. Once again there were poss
ibilities to explore. Hope. He had armor to put on and his priestess, his wife to protect.
Between vengeance and mercy
Those sightless eyes mocked her. Lifeless lips were slightly parted as if begging to be kissed even in death. Except for the first nine years of her life, not a day had gone by she didn’t give thought to Basileus’s end. In all her fantasies, it had never been a peaceful death. He didn’t deserve it.
“Cassius showed you mercy, I, however, am not so inclined...”
“I believe our King might not appreciate what you’re about to do.”
Acid filled the pit of her stomach at Levistus words. “Good thing he isn’t here then.”
She could sense him standing behind her, watching her every move as she pried open the mouth of the dead prince, pressing her athame against his tongue before hacking its blade into moist flesh. “Tell me, old man, would you be acting differently had this been Asmodeus and not his herald? Would you be able to show mercy?”
“No, I’m no longer able to claim that level of benevolence. He destroyed it when he killed her, corrupted the best parts of me. But it’s likely Cassius’s ability for compassion that protects him from the corruption within the Nessus. Try to remember that before you judge him too harshly.”
Fresh blood coated her hands by the time she’d victoriously held the severed tongue between her fingers, wiggling it at Levistus a few times for good measure. “I’ll manage.”
She cleaned off her blade with the folds of her robes, then stuffed the bloodied appendage into a satchel attached to her waistband. “Besides, vengeance means little when I have him. He’s all I truly need.”
“Are you sure you have him?”
She was up in an instant, sharp nails digging into his chest. “One more word out of you, old goat, and your deceitful tongue becomes part of my new collection.”
Those dark eyes of his stared down at her, but not with the hostility she expected. Worse. Levistus actually dared to gaze at her with pity. “You would harm me for speaking the truth, priestess? We both know Armageddon knows no mercy. Cassius does.”