28
Daghony stepped from the shadows, behind him, a spacious basement, in front of him, a recently carved tunnel. His wings tight to his body, his disgrace simmered and his skin shrunk two sizes from the foul energy pulsing through the air. Energy so familiar…it called to him, like a passionate lover seeking to reignite their affair. At first, he hated the darkness, then he hated that he loved it. Entering Hell had cost him everything, leaving Hell had cost him just as much.
He strode through the tunnel, his steps sure as he followed the path created by Bane. His residual energy was layered beneath that of the Cruor and in the surrounding ground, along with Michael’s. Three distinct energy patterns. What had Bane gotten himself involved in?
Another energy pattern filtered to him, as familiar as the Cruor. A cave-in blocked his path. With a flick of his wrist, the path cleared, showing him two things—the Cruor half embedded in the tunnel wall, and the last thing he’d expected to see.
“Malphas,” Daghony spat. Time hadn’t changed the Demoni Lord since their previous encounter. Same brownish hair, and similar colored eyes. Same stocky build. Clean shaven when he was once bearded. No wings, though that didn’t mean anything when he could have shielded them.
A slow smile stretched Malphas’s face as his eyes turned to polished onyx. His arms opened in welcome. “Brother, it’s been too long.”
“I am not, nor have I ever been, your brother.” Daghony prepared to strike.
“You and I were created at the same time. If not brothers, then what are we?”
“Enemies until time ends.” Would Malphas stay and fight, or flee as he was wont to do in Hell? Subterfuge was the demon’s MO. Also, manipulation and turning allies against each other for his benefit. Malphas would do any and everything to advance his agenda. If Malphas thought attacking would give him an edge, then he would attack, otherwise he’d save his own hide.
Malphas chuckled. “You’ve become a bit dramatic on this side of Hell. I’m amazed at the change in temperament and appearance.”
Daghony took in the suit, diamond stick pin, and matching cufflinks. “I could say the same thing about you.” Malphas had cleaned up well. Affluence oozed from him. No human would take him for a denizen of Hell.
He nodded once. “Yes. I’ve done quite well here, and I do enjoy my finery.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable. He adjusted the tie at his throat.
Daghony called his sword to his palm. He clutched ordinary steel in his hand, not the empyreal sword gifted to angels of the warrior class or higher. The blade in his hand couldn’t incinerate a demon with the slightest touch; however, its razor’s edge would slice Malphas’s head off in one clean swipe. Bloodier, yet equally effective.
“It was good seeing you, Daghony. I know you won’t see my actions as anything except self-serving, and you would be correct. But it is also altruistic. I’m taking the Cruor.”
Daghony glanced at the pale disk structure embedded in the wall behind Malphas. It was smaller than Daghony remembered with a shiny surface that resembled a Lichtenberg figure—smooth glass on the surface, trapped lightning inside.
“Relieving you of the burden the Cruor represents is a blessing you’ll eventually realize.” He held up a hand. “And before you expound on my many deficiencies, trust me, on this day, I am the lesser of evils.”
Before Daghony could move, a dimensional pocket expanded around Malphas and the Cruor. Both were gone before he reached them.
“Was that who I think it was?” Kushiél’s voice came from the rear of the tunnel.
“Don’t you remember his stench?” Chay’s voice came next.
“I certainly do,” Tahariél said.
Good. They’re all here. No time wasted tracking them down.
“The Cruor. You let Malphas take it.” Razuel, formerly the Keeper of God’s Secrets, stood beside Tahariél. Half in the shadows, Raz was barely visible at the mouth of the tunnel.
Damn. Who else had felt the return of the corrosive effects the portal projected and came running? Hopefully it was only the UnHallowed and Malphas, and not all the other escapees from Hell.
“Let? Is that an accusation?” Daghony pushed past Kush, and Chay returned to the basement as the shadows revealed Rimmon, Gadreel, Zedekiél, and Ioath. The former Archangel of Storms, Weapons, Mercy, and Demons filled the basement. Along with Tahariél, the new arrivals lined up in a semi-circle firing squad.
So they did sense the virulence leeching off the Cruor. The energy reminded all of a place they would do anything not to return.
Chay and Kush stood on opposite sides of Daghony. Three against five.
Tahariél sauntered over to lean on the wall next to Chay. In bold white letters, his gray tee shirt read, KINDA CARE. KINDA DON’T. Seemed today he leaned toward the former instead of his usual latter.
Four against five. Daghony rested his sword and leaned on the hilt.
“Let was a statement. Not an accusation.” Razuel stayed in his corner, his dark gaze skimmed over everyone, seeking for an angle to sway the situation in his favor or glean information for later use. He was the only one of them who could still hear the truth when spoken.
“This place reeks of Bane and the Cruor. How did he manage to keep this from us?” With his thumb and forefinger, Rimmon smoothed his blond mustache and goatee, then he adjusted the sleeves on his suit, hiding the metal cuffs on his wrists.
Zedekiél pulled a blunt from the pocket of his shirt and a lighter from his rear pocket. He took his time lighting the end and taking that first long drag. Only then did he step in front of Daghony. Same height and build, but where Daghony was blond with close-cropped hair and gray wings, Zed’s dark matted hair reached past his shoulders and he had no wings. His full beard and worn clothing made him appear homeless, which was where he spent most of his time, on the streets, hiding in plain sight. “Are we really wasting time on Bane when Malphas is on this side of Hell?”
“I’m as surprised as you are to see Malphas here,” Daghony answered.
Shadows licked up Razuel’s body and cracked, making a whip-like sound as he murmured low, “He has the Cruor.”
“Doesn’t matter. Gideon closed it,” Chay spoke around a toothpick in the corner of his mouth.
Ioath crossed to the mouth of the tunnel. “Has no one caught the other scent flavoring the air?” The former Archangel of Demons had no problem tracking the bastards, when he chose to. “I sense Bane’s energy, smell a Spaun, and the spilled grace of an archangel.” He took the time to glare at Kush, Daghony, Tahariél, and lastly Chay. “Someone had better start talking.”
Silence. Only one person could answer that question and he wasn’t here.
Zed growled, “Where’s Bane?”
It would be effortless for any one of them to track Bane down and possibly disastrous if the individual decided to drag Bane back without his cooperation. The UnHallowed facing Daghony weren’t Bane’s friends. Daghony wouldn’t count himself as a friend either, though they did keep company on occasion, along with Kush and Chay when their purposes matched. Tahariél was the outlier of their group.
“I’ll get him and return,” Daghony volunteered. The shadows cut off further discussion. It didn’t take long for the conduits to spit him out in a dim stairwell. Bane’s residual energy was strong in the space.
With a thought, Daghony shielded his wings from human eyes. Through the hallways of a hospital, he followed Bane’s trail until he found the UnHallowed in the emergency department interrogating a doctor.
“She’s in stable condition.” The doctor couldn’t hide his trembling.
With one hand, Bane grabbed the man by the lapels and lifted him off his feet. “Then why isn’t she awake?”
“I-I-I don’t know. T-time. She nn-needs tttime.” The doctor clawed at the hand around his throat.
Daghony stepped beside Bane and peered into the room. Everything became clear. Amaya, the UnHallowed Halfling of unknown parentage, lay unconscious in a hospital bed. Machines beeped around her. Preternatural stillness didn’t become the vibrant female he had the questionable pleasure of meeting. The way she fought, she moved with a distinct elegance that was equally deadly and erotic. And Bane. If his entanglement wasn’t apparent enough in the parking lot of the bar, it was more than evident now. “Release the doctor. Hurting him will not quicken her recovery.”
The doctor stumbled away when Bane dropped him.
“What happened to her?” Daghony tipped his head toward Amaya.
“A Spaun happened.”
Spaun. The middle men of Hell. Their presence on this side preceded the Great Betrayal. Most kept a low profile, assimilating, waiting for more of their kind to crossover. They served the Demoni Lords, masters and minions. “Leave,” Bane ordered without removing his gaze from the bed.
Daghony took a cursory glance around the room. No one seemed disturbed by the rough handling of the physician or their presence.
Bane gave Daghony his full attention. “I ordered them to ignore me and do their jobs. They won’t remember anything after I’ve left. Why are you here?”
Daghony had hoped Bane’s connection to the Halfling was superficial, something that would pass in a few days once he whet his appetite. By the red-eyed glare and the violence seething in the air, Bane was hooked. Daghony hadn’t seen such a reaction since Chay had found Scarla abandoned in a field. Chay had bonded to the infant as a father to a child. Not the same bond Bane currently experienced, yet just as powerful. “You need to come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
UnHallowed should not bond to humans for the same reasons angels should not. It weakened both races. “It wasn’t a request.”
“I’m not leaving here.”
There was a wildness to Bane Daghony had never seen before. He could force Bane to comply. Not only was the lesser angel out powered, Daghony had the height and weight advantage granted to him when he became an archangel. Others—Zed, Kush, Raz, would’ve had no qualms about using brute force. That had never been Daghony’s way. “Come now, or risk seven UnHallowed showing up here to take you, and her. You have to admit, you don’t want that perilous situation anywhere near Amaya, especially when she is helpless to defend herself.”
Indecision entered Bane’s gaze.
“The quicker you come with me, the quicker you can return to her.” He urged. If Bane refused him again, Daghony would have no choice but to make him comply.
Bane’s gaze went to the Halfling. Daghony had seen that hunger on many a human face. Never had he seen it on an UnHallowed.
Longing.
Daghony understood the emotion, still, it disturbed him to see the raw need on Bane’s usually stoic features. Longing for what you couldn’t possess, claim, own, was useless. Longing for a human, doubly so. They were fragile and fallible. Even though Amaya was a Halfling, the same applied to her. “There are questions you need to answer.”
Bane’s head cranked around. The red in his gaze had dialed down a notch, but not the violence radiating from him. “Questions?” he snorted. “You come to me for answers to questions I posed to you and the others centuries ago.”
Daghony had no idea what Bane spoke of. Wary of the direction the conversation had turned, he gave a clipped nod.
Again, Bane’s gaze returned to the hospital bed. One by one, the lights in the hallway darkened. Shadows crawled across the linoleum toward them. “Where to?”
“We go to the place where you left the Cruor.”