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Hawkyn: A Demonica Underworld Novella by Larissa Ione (7)

Sheoul-gra, and all its ancient Greek glory, was teeming with activity when Hawkyn arrived. It took a minute to figure out why colorful paper lights had been strung up between trees and buildings, food and drink had been set out on dozens of long trestle tables, and music was being streamed via magical conduits that dispersed sound evenly throughout the entire realm.

It was The Celebration of Angels Day, a holiday he figured had been invented to let typically uptight angels release a little pressure. Rumor had it that angels could do whatever they wanted on this day and there would be no repercussions.

Hawkyn wasn’t going to take that chance.

“Hey, man.” Cipher, his long blond hair tied back with a strip of leather, clapped him on the shoulder and drained a cup of mead. The Unfallen angel loved his nasty ancient beverages. “Where’ve you been?”

Journey flanked his other side. “Dude, you were gone for days.”

“Days, dude,” Maddox agreed as he stumbled alongside Journey. Hawk had known Maddox for over a hundred years, and although his brother was older by twenty years, he still acted like a delinquent teen human.

“What, you guys are my babysitters now?”

Cipher snagged another cup of mead off a nearby table. “You missed game night.”

“And movie night,” Journey chimed in. “We watched John Wick.”

“The second one,” Mad added. “It was awesome. If that character was real, he’d totally be Primori.”

“I’ll bet Keanu Reeves is,” Cipher said. “He’s had a big impact on society.”

“I heard he’s a vampire. Or a demon.” Maddox gestured at the nearby gazebo. “And speaking of demons, you just missed Idess. Well, you missed her by a couple of hours, I guess.”

Cipher braced his shoulder against a marble column, propping the heel of his boot on the snout of a demon carved into the base. “Who’s Idess?”

“Of all my father’s children,” Hawkyn said, “she’s his favorite.” He waved to his half-brother Emerico, who headed their way.

Journey snorted. “You could have fooled me.”

“What do you mean?”

“She came to see him with her demon kid, but he barely spoke to her. Totally ignored her demonlet, and then he took off. Left Idess with Lilliana. Our father can be a dick sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Emerico joined them, his spiky black hair looking like something out of a cartoon. “He’s a fucking career dick. I asked him why we can’t enter the Inner Sanctum and he said he doesn’t trust us. Like we’re children. Bastard.”

“Shh.” Mad looked around wildly and lowered his voice. “He’ll hear you.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Journey said, all puffed up like a rooster. “I’ve told him the same thing to his face.”

“To his face?” Hawkyn was more than a little skeptical.

“Well, I’ve said it on the Memitim message boards,” Journey muttered, and yeah, that was more like it.

Maddox hiccupped. “You’re a bully.”

Cipher shook his head. “Bullying requires a power imbalance, real or perceived, in favor of the bully. Azagoth has all the power. Journey has none. Plus, Azagoth doesn’t know what Journey says on the boards. Hence, no bullying.” He punched Journey in the arm. “I think you mean he’s a troll. An idiot troll, but not a bully.”

“Okay, guys, can we get serious for a second?”

Abruptly, Journey lost the swagger and cocky grin. The guy could switch into duty mode faster than anyone Hawkyn had met. “What’s up?”

“You watched over two serial killers in your life—”

“Three.” Journey ticked off his fingers as he spoke. “Plus an assortment of rapists, sadists, mass murderers, and even an emperor who regularly ordered the executions of entire villages of people.”

Yeah, Hawkyn had been assigned a variety of monsters too, but for some reason, serial killers like Drayger seemed extra monstrous. The time they took to plan and execute their evil put them ahead of the rest, in his opinion.

“How do you deal with it?” Cipher asked. “I know you’re not allowed to interfere in your Primoris’ lives, but fuck that, man. How can you just let someone be tortured to death by one of your Primori?”

“Those people are dying for the greater good,” Journey said, reciting the official company line like a good little soldier. “It’s why they were born. They have a purpose to serve. And it helps to realize that their suffering is temporary. A drop in the bucket of time. They go to a better place.”

Maddox jammed his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “It also helps to avoid your scumbag Primori. Don’t even check on them unless their heraldis activate.” He shrugged. “Ignorance is bliss, you know.”

“Preach it, brother.” Emerico bumped fists with Maddox.

It was way too late to be ignorant about Drayger. Besides, Hawkyn wanted to learn about his charges. The more he knew about their lives and their personalities, the easier it was to understand why they required angelic protection and from where any danger might come. Hawk had never understood why people like Maddox and Rico treated their jobs so casually. Hawkyn had always been dedicated to a fault, an all-in kind of Memitim.

“I can’t do that,” he said. “Especially now. I kind of fucked up.”

Cipher shoved away from the column, his interest fully engaged. “Ooh, do tell. It’s always good to have dirt on you.”

Cipher hadn’t changed a bit since the day, almost two years ago, when Hawkyn had dragged the guy here against his will for fucking with another of Hawkyn’s Primoris. Ciph was still a bit of a scammer. But he did have a moral compass, and despite their rocky start, they’d become good friends, and Hawkyn trusted him with his secrets.

Journey and Maddox were a little more iffy, but they were his favorite brothers and he didn’t think they’d betray him.

Probably.

Emerico? He’d been raised by professional con artists, and while he was generally reliable, he tended to look for all the angles in any situation that would benefit him.

Ah, what the hell. Hawkyn needed advice, and these four idiots were the best source of it he had. “I interfered with my Primori’s abduction of a victim,” he blurted.

Journey let out a drawn out oh shit whistle. “Dude.”

Maddox concurred. “Dude.”

Rico did a face palm.

“I know I’m not up on all your crazy Primori rules,” Cipher began, “but even I know that interference in Primori actions is crazy bad. Like, the most forbidden of the forbidden.”

“There’s worse,” Hawkyn said, “but not much.”

“So what happened?” Journey asked, his dark eyes wide with morbid curiosity. Because who didn’t love a good train wreck?

“I’m fucked, that’s what happened.” Hawk swiped a cup of wine from the table and drained half of it. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he could use some alcohol right now. Good thing wine was approved by the Memitim Council, because he was tempted to drink it by the barrel. “I caught him trying to grab a woman. She mistook me for his partner, and she blasted the fuck out of me with a photon torpedo or some crap before he managed to subdue her.”

“Ah, shit,” Maddox said. “So did you take damage meant for him?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m worried about.” Hawkyn looked at each of his buddies and wondered who was going to freak the most when he said, “So I rescued her.”

“Holy shit,” Maddox blurted, spewing wine all over Hawk’s boots.

Groaning, Journey scrubbed his hand over his face. “You dipshit. You fucking dipshit.”

Rico gaped. His eyes were going to dry out if he didn’t blink.

Cipher stood silently, his gaze analyzing Hawkyn’s words, expression, posture... The guy was a master at reading people. No doubt he knew exactly how much shit Hawkyn was in. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Take her back,” Rico suggested, as if Drayger’s House of Horrors had a return policy.

“You’re an idiot,” Cipher said. “Even if Hawk did that, there’s no guarantee that it’ll repair the fated timeline. Like Maddox said, what if she was supposed to have killed the Primori? She never would have been taken. He could be returning her to a killer for no reason.” He looked at Hawkyn. “Man, you’re fucked.”

“Thank you,” Hawkyn muttered. “That was helpful.”

“You said it first.” Cipher shrugged. “So what is your plan?”

“I don’t have one. Which is why I’m talking to you guys. But, as it turns out, you’re idiots.”

“Well,” Journey began, “can you contact the Memitim Council and see what they know about your Primori’s fate?”

“I tried. Talked to someone from the embassy. Got nowhere.”

“Is your Primori human?” Rico asked.

That was the question of the day. “I’m not sure. The files and diary Atticus kept on him before he Ascended indicates that Drayger’s human, but he can somehow track his victims once he sheds their blood. Atticus wrote that a victim escaped, but she didn’t go to the police because she was a werewolf and she feared being caught.” A lot of cops were secret Aegis members, so the victim’s paranoia was justified. “Instead, she used a Harrowgate to go from Portland to Sydney, and the bastard caught up to her within days.”

Atticus had spent every available minute watching Drayger, documenting his every move. For some reason Atticus had been obsessed with the bastard. He might have even admired him. The diary he’d kept had been detailed and often complimentary.

He has a single-minded focus. He can’t sleep or eat. His only desire is to find Lexi. He took leave from work. Spends his time hunched over his computer and a giant map of the world. He’s looking for her.

Next entry: Jason Drayger is fascinating. Everything I’ve learned about the man leads me to believe he’s human, and yet he can sense supernatural abilities in females. (But not males.) And as far as I can tell, he can track anything once he tastes their blood. I’m certain that he practiced many times before Lexi escaped and forced him to hunt her. I think he’ll find her.

Several entries and two days later later: He found her.

Lexi’s death photos now took up five pages in Drayger’s serial killer album.

“So you’re left with a choice,” Cipher mused. “Leave her be and see if he catches her and the fated timeline fixes itself, or protect her to keep her out of his hands in case she wasn’t meant to be a victim.”

“Exactly. And if he can track her, I’ll have to make sure I keep her someplace where he can’t sense her or where he can’t access her even if he does find her.” He could bring her here, he supposed, just until he could figure out what to do next.

He’d just have to be sneaky about it, because no one besides these four morons could know what was up. Not even Suzanne could know. He trusted her, but he was her mentor, and he couldn’t hold the moral high ground if she knew he’d buried himself six feet deep. He was in a definite do as I say, not as I do moment.

He was so fucked.

“Sucks to be you,” Cipher said, his nose in the air as he sniffed out the charcoal aroma of something being grilled nearby.

“Says the guy who got his wings cut off and his ass booted out of Heaven.” Maddox dug a Sheoulin coin out of his pocket and flipped it into the nearby fountain that had run with blood for thousands of years before Lilliana tamed Azagoth’s inner demon. Two seconds later, the fangfish that lived in the fountain spit the coin out.

“My punishment was totally unfair,” Cipher muttered as he snatched the coin out of the air.

Hawkyn stared at his friend in disbelief. “You seduced my Primori, which affected her status and left a big black mark on my record.”

“I didn’t know she was a Primori when I seduced her.”

“Bullshit. I told you.”

“Sure you did.” Cipher’s gaze locked on a female Unfallen standing near the newly constructed stage that would soon be the battle ground for a band competition, and later, for wrestling matches—except these matches were fought with the mind. “After I decided I wanted her.”

“It didn’t matter, you jackass. She was human. Angels are forbidden from sleeping with humans.”

“Wrong. She was part angel.” If the heat in his gaze was any indication, Cipher probably had that Unfallen across the way half undressed in his head by now.

“Yeah, like from ten generations ago.”

“See? Part angel.”

“And did that argument work during your sentencing?”

“No,” he conceded, finally turning back to Hawk. “But archangels are assholes.”

Hawkyn wasn’t going to argue with that assessment. “Look, I need help. I’m open to suggestions.”

“Bring her here for now. She’ll be safe. Then we can look at ways to get you out of this mess.” Cipher could be an immature whack job at times, but when shit hit the fan, he could always be counted on to help clean it up.

“Okay—” He broke off as the ground beneath them rumbled, and a charge in the air made Hawkyn’s hair stand up. “Uh-oh.”

“What is it?” Cipher asked.

“Azagoth.” Everyone had stopped what they were doing as a blast of fury blew like a shockwave across the land. Glass shattered and pillars tipped over, and oh, shit, this could be bad.

As a group, Hawkyn, Cipher, Journey, and Maddox ran toward the epicenter of the rumbling—the portal to and from Sheoul-gra.

Hawkyn looked back over his shoulder at Rico, who was staring down at the heraldis on his arm. He flashed out, most likely to defend a Primori. Hawkyn sped up, beating the group before skidding to a halt at the sight of Azagoth, his eyes glowing like hot lava and his skin threaded with black, pulsing veins. In his clawed hand, he held a ruby-winged angel by her throat.

“Don’t fuck with me, Ulnara,” he snarled. “I. Want. My. Children!”

Ulnara? Hawkyn sucked in a harsh breath. Ulnara was his mother’s name. The female struggling to escape Azagoth’s grip, the female with Suzanne’s brown hair and eyes and Hawkyn’s nose was his mother.

She laughed, a raspy, choking sound that was no surprise given that Azagoth had a death grip on her neck.

“As if you care about your children. This?” She waved her arm in an encompassing gesture. “All of this is either a show or a means to an end that will benefit only you. Do any of them actually believe you love them? Are you even capable of love, you evil maggot?”

“I’m far more capable of it than you are,” he yelled, slamming her against a nearby pillar. Feathers floated in the air around them as her wings, pinned between the stone column and her body, flapped uselessly. “You will convince the Council to give me what I want, and you’ll do it now.”

“Or what?”

Azagoth let out a roar of fury. Wet, ripping noises rent the air as his body morphed into something bigger, with horns and scales and black, leathery wings tipped with serrated bone hooks. He flung the angel away from the pillar and snapped his massive jaws mere millimeters from her face.

“Father, no!” Hawkyn had never met his mother, hadn’t thought he ever would. But that was her. He was sure of it. And he had to stop Azagoth from killing her.

He charged, slamming full force into the Azagoth-demon and knocking him sideways. Azagoth released Ulnara, and in a motion so seamless and instantaneous that Hawkyn didn’t have a chance to avoid it, he popped Hawk in the throat and power-slammed him into the ground.

The air whooshed from his lungs from both the impact and the giant, clawed foot on his chest. Azagoth looked down at him, drool dripping from a mouthful of teeth a dragon would envy, and snarled.

“Today is not the day to piss me off.” He spun around and jabbed one long finger at Ulnara. “You can thank our son for saving you from all the screaming you were about to do.” He flapped his wings and launched into the air, where he hovered about thirty feet up. “Ulnara, you have one week.”

She scrambled onto the portal pad, her hand poised over the hilt of the sword at her hip. An instinct and nothing more, because she had to realize that no blade could so much as scratch Azagoth. Not in his own realm, and certainly not while he was wearing his demon suit.

“Not this time, Azagoth,” she said, her voice powerful and confident, but she never took her nervous gaze off the demon in the air. “We’re done appeasing you.”

“Don’t test my will, angel,” he warned, his voice dredging the very pits of hell. “On this matter I will go to war.”

War? What the hell was going on?

Azagoth flicked his wrist, done with her. Literally. She disappeared without ever activating the portal, returned either to Heaven, or dumped somewhere that amused Azagoth. Like inside a sewer treatment holding tank. Or a hot dog factory.

Without bothering to even glance at Hawkyn, Azagoth flapped his great wings and shot skyward, vanishing into roiling clouds that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Well,” Cipher drawled as he offered Hawkyn a hand, “at least you’re consistent, always rescuing females from crazy males.”

“No matter how stupid it is,” Maddox said.

Journey shook his head. “I can’t believe you fucking did that.”

Hawk couldn’t either. “The angel was my mother.”

Cipher cocked a blond eyebrow, and both Journey and Maddox gasped out loud.

“Damn,” Journey said. “I’ve never met any Memitim dam, let alone mine.”

“No one has,” Maddox said.

“Would you want to?” Cipher asked, and both Journey and Maddox shook their heads.

After all, what did one say to the female who gave you up, not for your own good, but because you were a means to an end, a pawn in a game you were bred to play whether you wanted to or not?

“Hawkyn!” Lilliana jogged over, fingers playing with the ends of the long blond braid draped over her shoulder. “I saw what happened. Are you okay?” At his nod, she smiled and dropped her hands to her sides. “Good. Next question. Are you completely stupid?”

He glanced at his friends, who were nodding vehemently. “The consensus seems to be yes.” He glared at all the onlookers, shaming them into heading back to whatever they’d been doing before he tackled his father. “What did Azagoth mean by going to war?” he asked Lilliana. “Over what? The children he was talking about?” And what children?

“I don’t know.” She crossed her arms over her chest, ruffling her silky blue blouse. “I have no idea what’s going on with Azagoth, but you all need to tread softly around him for a while. I haven’t seen him this volatile since I first arrived in Sheoul-gra. He loves you—all of you—but I think he might have loved some of the people he turned into living statues, too.”

“Does he?” Journey asked quietly. “Does he really?”

Lilliana frowned. “Does he what? Love some of the statues?”

“No. Love us.”

“Of course he does,” she said, but Hawkyn swore he heard a note of doubt in her voice.

Maddox snorted. “He’s an angel wrapped in a demon wrapped in an asshole. He doesn’t give a shit about anything but himself.”

In an instant Lilliana was in Maddox’s face, her eyes glowing with anger, her wings, which Hawkyn had never seen, held high, engulfing his brother in shadow. She was shorter than Maddox by at least six inches, but somehow she seemed to tower over him.

“How dare you, you ungrateful wretch,” she snapped, compelling Mad backward with the force of her anger. Anger Hawk hadn’t known she was capable of. Lilliana had always been so calm and sweet. “Do you not see what he’s done for you? For all of you? Are you completely blind to what he’s built here for you? He didn’t do it for show or personal or political gain, no matter what Ulnara said. I saw his misery and felt his pain when your brother Methicore managed to shut down Sheoul-gra to Memitim access a while back. But your father called in about a million favors to have the decision reversed—favors that cost him dearly.” She jammed her finger into Maddox’s chest. “So if you can’t show him a little respect, I will personally show you the door.”

Maddox held up his hands in surrender, but he was careful not to spill the wine in one hand.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said meekly. “I apologize.”

For a long moment, Hawkyn wasn’t sure she was going to accept his apology, but just as he was weighing ways to de-escalate the situation, she stepped back with an irritated flap of wings.

“Good,” she said crisply. “Now, I’m going to go check on him. You boys enjoy the party.”

Hawkyn assured her he would, but he didn’t plan to stay. He needed to go over the notes he had about Drayger’s past, and then he had to figure out what to do with Aurora.

He was about to wave off his buddies when his arm seized up and pain shot from his wrist to his shoulder. Hissing, he looked down at the row of seven heraldis that extended from the heel of his hand to the crook of his elbow. The one in the middle was pulsing, red, angry.

One of his Primoris was in trouble.

“I got your back,” Journey said. “Let’s go.”

“I’m in,” Cipher said. “Let’s kick ass.”

Maddox downed his wine and threw the cup down on the ground like a victory spike. “Kick ass!”

Hawkyn would sideline Maddox’s drunk butt if he needed to, but for now he was just happy to have friends and family at his back.

On this matter, I will go to war.

Especially now.