A Devil Named Desire (12 page)

Despite her seeming bravado, she was afraid.

From deep within, Gabriel summoned his inner self—the faithful servant who stood at the One’s right hand—and used it to subdue the human form he currently occupied. He was a protector, not an object of fear or desire. It was his job to save Hope from the Darkness, not throw himself into it alongside her.

“Cover yourself,” he told her, harshly this time, and turned away.

A
shamed, Hope lay awake in the dark, wondering whether it wouldn’t have been better if she’d succeeded at killing herself.

If she’d managed to take her own life, she wouldn’t be in this position, caught in a battle between Heaven and Hell, balanced on the knife edge of fear and desire, no closer to finding her missing sister than she’d been to begin with. She wouldn’t have had to admit to herself that when she’d seen Gabriel standing over her, she’d felt her heart soar, and her soul take wing. She wouldn’t have had to acknowledge, deep in her heart of hearts, that she wanted Gabriel for herself, and that no matter what she did, she’d never be able to have him. His golden brown eyes saw straight through her, and she wanted them, just once, to look at her and see a woman, not a lost, pathetic soul in need of rescue.

She sighed, turning on her side. She’d slept alone for so long, yet the bed had never felt emptier. His shoulders had been so broad, as though they could bear the weight of the world without bowing. His hair had spilled partially over his cheek, the light from the hallway gilding one side of his face, while the other had been in darkness.

When she’d opened her eyes and seen him, she’d felt the way the sirens must’ve felt, once upon a time, willing men to their doom through songs and the sweetness of their flesh, and she hadn’t cared, for nothing had mattered in that moment except the touch of Gabe’s lips against her own, and the chance to feel them again.

Then he’d said no, and it had all vanished, like a puff of smoke, leaving her bereft.

Always, and forever, bereft.

Chapter Twelve

“S
urely you’re not going to let him get away with this, Master.” Nyx was outraged, as was the Dronai warrior at his back. They stood in the center of Unholy of Holies, the throne room Sammy used when he had official business to conduct. “He’s as much as declared war upon you, my lord. The woman belongs to the Darkness, and the Lightbringer knows it!”

Bored, His Satanic Majesty hooked a knee over one side of his gilded throne, and rested his chin in his hand.

“It’s true, Great Shaitan.” The Dronai warrior’s voice rasped like a rusty saw. “He brought forth a sword, infused with light, and has placed seals upon the doors and windows. I barely escaped with my life.”

“Whipped out the Sword of Righteousness already, has he?” Sammy perked up a bit, but not for the reasons his warriors might have thought. “Oh, he’s in for it now, is Gabriel.” A slow smile brought a diabolical curve to his lip. “How delightful.”

“Then we attack? Let me send the Ravenai—they’ll tear his human flesh to ribbons before he has a chance to defend himself.”

“The Dronai can do it,” objected the smaller demon, clearly insulted. “Our honor is at stake! A few dozen of us, and he’ll stand no chance!”

Sammy, deep in thought, waved the idea away. “The Ravenai are no match for Gabriel, and neither are the Dronai, no matter how many I send. His corporeal form may be flesh and blood, but his essence is not.”

Baffled, Nyx loosed a rumbling growl of frustration. “You cannot let this challenge go unanswered, my prince! He has no right to claim the girl, for we have already claimed her!”

A blond eyebrow arched. “
We?
”

Nyx frowned, casting his red eyes down toward the marble floor. “The Darkness, my lord. I refer to your legions, who act on your behalf. I meant no disrespect.”

“I should hope not,” Sammy answered silkily. “For though you are a part of me, you are
not
me, and never will be.”

The heavy doors of the throne room swung open, admitting childish laughter into the room.

“Come on, Tesla,” cried Cain, “Stop being such a wimp! Last one to touch Father’s throne is a—”

Silence fell, pregnant with tension. Sammy’s son stood in the doorway, and behind him, a small imp, who tried desperately to make himself look even smaller. For a moment, Cain looked worried, but he recovered quickly, pasting a sunny smile on his face. “Father,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.”

“As though it would’ve mattered,” Sammy muttered beneath his breath.

“A fire imp?” questioned the Dronai, clearly astonished. “What is
that
vermin doing here?”

Sammy rolled his eyes, knowing quite well how competitive his legions could be. The Dronai, though mere foot soldiers, thought themselves far above the imps, who were never allowed to leave Sheol. The Ravenai thought themselves far above the Dronai, the Vulturi thought themselves above the Ravenai, and the ethereals thought themselves above all, save the Ruler of the Abyss himself.

“Tesla isn’t vermin,” shot back Cain, clearly not intimidated by the Dronai’s disapproval.

Somewhere, in the nether regions of his chest, Sammy felt a stirring of pride. He fixed a warning eye on his son, nonetheless.

“Take your pet and go play elsewhere, child. This room is off-limits.”

Cain flushed, accepting the rebuke. He backed from the room, the imp skittering nervously behind him, and closed the doors as he left.

Nyx gave an inelegant sniff. “The creature reeks of brimstone. He doesn’t belong in the inner temple.”

“He certainly doesn’t,” rasped the Dronai, in a rare show of support.

“I don’t believe I asked either of you for your opinions,” Sammy rapped out sharply. “Have you any other suggestions on how to raise my son?” He stood, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down upon the two demons. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me how to run my kingdom, as well.”

Nyx, far taller than the Dronai, drew himself to attention. “Of course not, O Dark One.”

“Of course not,” echoed the Dronai, doing the same.

“If I choose to give Cain a playmate, it’s no concern of yours,” Sammy said, addressing himself mainly to Nyx. “You’ve proven yourself unable to keep up with him . . . if he’s to stay safe, he must stay within my stronghold, not roaming the Underworld.”

Too well trained to betray his annoyance at being found wanting in front of a lesser demon, Nyx remained silent.

“The imp keeps him entertained, and out of trouble.” The statement wasn’t entirely true, as evidenced by the current situation. “As long as he does so, I see no problem.”

“Nor do I, Master.” Nyx inclined his head, and like a puppet, the Dronai did the same.

“Go,” snapped Sammy, unaccountably irritated. “Leave me, both of you. I’ll let you know what’s to be done with the Lightbringer, but in the meantime, do nothing.”

A few moments later, and he was alone, in an empty throne room. The golden columns that encircled the room glittered, as did the chandeliers above his head, reflected in the shining marble floors. Annoyed at himself for being annoyed, Sammy took a deep breath, drinking in the silence.

Had he been wrong to spare the imp? It seemed a harmless enough way to keep the boy occupied, and saved him the trouble of crushing the creature beneath his heel.

Liar
, said a voice in his head. To his chagrin, the voice sounded much like Gabriel’s.
The Great Deceiver, who deceives even himself. You didn’t want the boy to hate you . . . you, who claim to thrive on hate.

“Damnation,” Sammy muttered, and quit the throne room, looking for somewhere less overwhelmingly ostentatious to spend his time.

Knowing just the place, he soon found himself on the shores of an underground sea, where the water was as black as his soul, the sky leaden, scudded with gray clouds. The Sea of Sorrows, he called it, for it was here that the shades of regret lingered, seeking fruitlessly to leave their footprints in the sand. They never would, of course, for by the time they got here, they were incorporeal, mere figments of the humans they’d once inhabited. The wind wailed, and the waves crashed, and in its own way, the sea was as beautiful as the blue-green oceans on the planet above.

Sammy made his way along the rocks that littered the shore, enjoying the thunder of the waves, ignoring the wisps of regret that passed him by, unseeing. He soon found himself in a small cove, sheltered from the worst of sea’s fury. There, combing her long, black hair with a comb made of mother-of-pearl, sat a Nereid, singing a song of loneliness and longing, with no one to hear it save the wind and the sea. Half woman, half octopus, the Nereids were treacherous, but beautiful, at least above the waist.

Intrigued, for the Nereids were shy creatures, Sammy stood, and listened.

Weep for the secrets you never revealed

The time you lost while striving,

Mourn the passing of the years

Like the dead, no hope of reviving.

Pearls on a strand were the days of your life

The string now snapped, and broken,

Mourn for the secrets you never revealed

And the words you left unspoken.

Closing his eyes, Sammy let the song wash over him, the words resonating more than he wished, and less than they would had he ever been human. What was it like, he wondered, to know that your existence was finite, and that every step you took led you closer to death? That every decision you made was meaningless in the big scheme of things, and that everything you thought was important was, in reality, nothing?

“Hail and well met, O Prince of Darkness.”

Sammy opened his eyes to see that the Nereid had slipped into the water and swum to where he stood. Her black hair flowed around her like ink, darker than the Sea of Sorrows itself, as she bobbed in the water near his feet.

“I thought the stories of your magnificence were exaggerated,” said the Nereid, “but now I see the truth of it myself. You gleam like the treasures beneath the surface of the deep.”

“Thank you,” Sammy replied, amused by the Nereid’s flattery. “Your song was lovely.”

“I am Galene,” she said, “and I am honored. Swim with me, and I will sing for you again.”

With a laugh, he shook his head. “Oh no, my pretty one, for I know what would happen. You would seek to entwine me in your coils, and I would be forced to kill you.” He tilted his head, admiring her bluish-gray skin, the onyx glitter of her upturned eyes. “What a shame that would be.”

“I am what I am,” Galene said simply. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

Such modern-day speech from such an ancient creature made him laugh again. “Sing for me anyway,” he ordered, and took a seat on the rocks, leaning his back against one of the largest.

The Leviathan stirs, dark currents swirl,

Woe to the man, and joy to the girl

Who spins her web, unknowing of fate

And snares the one who thought himself safe.

Like the dark River Styx

That flows to the sea

Woe to the one who thought himself free.

Sammy stiffened, and sat up.

Love unrequited, yet sweeter by far

Than a kingdom of darkness, ruled by a star

Who once dwelled in the Heavens

Yet now is cast down

Woe to the one who chafes at his crown.

“That’s enough,” he said sharply, but the Nereid went on.

Where mercy is shown, mercy is given

Woe to the one, himself unforgiven,

Who pines for that which he’ll never possess

Denied her touch, love’s tender caress

Kisses like wine, yet to be tasted

His kingdom at risk, his true glory wasted.

“Enough,” Sammy roared, and came to his feet. He trembled with rage, and something else—something that felt suspiciously like pain. “Save your words for those who deserve them, for those who come here hounded by regret!”

“
You
came here,” Galene said simply. “And I but sing what the sea moves me to sing.”

Scooping up a loose rock, Sammy flung it at the Nereid, who dodged it easily, slipping through the water like an eel.

“Why so angry, O Great Shaitan? Everyone has things they regret, and whoever the dark-haired girl was, are you not better for having known her?” Galene eyed him curiously, unruffled by his loss of composure. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, you know.”

“Then I am a Colossus,” he shouted, and raised his arms wide. Staring up at the leaden sky, he let the anger come, let the memories of Nicki Styx flood his brain, and felt anew the rage and frustration he’d felt when he’d finally accepted she could never be his.

Nicki, wide-eyed and frightened, yet refusing to give in when faced with a choice between good and evil. The unconscious sway of her hips as she walked the streets of Little Five Points. Laughing with her friend Evan as they worked together in her store. The Halloween party at the Vortex, the first time he’d laid eyes on her. The scent of her hair, like cherries, the one and only time he’d ever kissed her.

He’d had to let her go to keep her safe, for his world had no room for a kindhearted young woman with pink streaks in her hair. She would have had no defense against the malevolent forces that surrounded him. His one and only selfless act of mercy, which hurt more than anyone would ever know.

“You are indeed a Colossus,” Galene agreed, treading water at his feet. “But now you must be wary, for it is the nature of others to mistake strength for weakness. There are those within your kingdom who would snatch your crown from your grasp.”

“What do you know of strength?” He lashed out with scorn, seeking to wound. “You’re nothing but a cold-blooded freak of nature, with no idea what it means to rule a kingdom.”

“I am friend to the Leviathan, and friend to you as well,” said the Nereid, unperturbed by the insult. “The Leviathan sleeps, but sees all in his dreams. He sent me here, to tell you in song what you refuse to hear otherwise.”