A Deal in Darkness (Dark and Devilish #2)

31

A WICKED PROBLEM

ENZO

I slam my fist against the wall, irritated that not one fucker around me has the courtesy to look me in the eye as they try to lie to me. I’m beyond pissed and lesser demons quake in fear. They fucking ought to. I’ve reached the end of my tolerance and my wrath knows no limit.

Byron leans against a pillar, arms crossed and resting one foot on the marble column. He’s cocky and his confidence is misplaced if he thinks I’ll spare him.

“DOES. NO ONE. KNOW?”

My roar reverberates and the world shakes. There’ll probably be an earthquake somewhere. Maybe an avalanche. At the very least, some buildings will collapse and mortals will die.

It’s a slight comfort.

“AND. WHERE. THE. FUCK. IS. EVA?”

I know where the devious little bitch is. I sent her away to deal with a problem in the east end, but the rest of the apparently pathetic demons who serve me don’t know that. What they think they know is I’m enraged and about to lose my shit, and if one of them knows something, then now’s the time to speak up—or heads will roll.

After I’ve torn a few limbs off, dismembered some of the less fortunate ones, and flayed anyone left alive.

“Mordecai…”

The name rings out in the air, and it’s like a bell tolling. The only question is whose fucking funeral it’s announcing, and I refuse to let it be mine.

I killed that fucker centuries ago and I made damn sure I performed every fucking rite I knew and some I didn’t to ensure he would stay that way. I dismembered his body and scattered through all the realms in all the planes I could access. Personally. There wasn’t a trace of the fucker left to resurrect him with and even if there were, the enchantments and rituals in place were impenetrable.

Some didn’t believe it could be done.

His followers were a particularly thorny problem, and their tenacity was a pain in my fucking ass. Every decade or so, one of the more assertive cunts would try to start something and insist his spirit or some other such shit had visited them.

It took us two centuries to wipe them out.

Two fucking centuries of chasing those cunts to the ends of the universe and through portals that were as reliable as those who serve me. Admittedly, I claimed the territory I conquered and it increased my power and wealth, but it was a bother I could have done without.

But it bound Byron to me, and I found Eva along the way. She was struggling and barely surviving in a realm that didn’t tolerate shadow demons. She’s been devoted to me ever since, and in her time, she’s become indispensable. Eva’s more organized than Byron. She pays attention to all the fucking details and she’s cunning. Devious. It’s a delight to watch her work.

It's going to be a shame to part with her.

If I’m right and she’s betrayed me, her head will become detached from her body. I’ll have no choice but to make an example of her—anything else would be taken as a sign of weakness. The reason for her betrayal is irrelevant and there are no excuses.

Hell is ruthless, and there are no second chances.

I’ll make it hurt. I’ll drag it out.

It’ll be a public display, and others will relish it. They’ll revel in Eva’s agony and I’ll put on a fucking magnificent display. Partly as a warning to anyone who is even considering thinking about acting against me. Partly as a demonstration that I won’t take prisoners and I haven’t lost my touch. And mostly because I’m fucking livid that she had a hand in threatening Adriana.

My intervention saw to it that my girl wasn’t hurt. Elgios helped a bit, but I saved Adriana. Twice. More than that, if you count the other little interventions I’ve undertaken over the years that she might have had some involvement in.

This is a fucking mess and it’s about time someone sorted it out.

My eyes snap toward the quivering demon who dared to speak that accursed name. The damned thing shakes so fucking much its edges blur and it’s pissing me off.

“Lord, I mean no offense…”

I’m so fucking offended that the word hasn’t been invented to describe how insulted I am.

“There are rumors, Lord.”

“I’M. AWARE.”

Silence screams its deafening thunder around the grand hall of my chambers, and Hell reverberates with my anger. Even the cries of torture fall quiet, realizing their fucking place and bowing to my will. This is my goddamn house and I will have order in the carnage I create.

Byron’s foot stamps a single beat of protest as it hits the marble floor. His blood-red eyes meet mine and he dissents. He’s subtle enough that none of the other cunts here would realize it, but it’s a fucking battle cry when you know what to look for.

And I’ve known Byron for a long time. Our blood’s mixed on too many occasions and we’ve slayed thousands upon thousands together. The depravity and destruction we’ve wrought have been glorious and we’ve bathed in the blood of our enemies, crushing their skulls beneath our feet and between our teeth.

My teeth flash a warning, and he ignores it, pressing his point.

Sometimes—rarely—it is better to let the weak speak. They invariably disappoint, but once in a cursed moon, they reveal something that matters. They seldom know the importance of the information they impart and you usually have to extract it from them.

It’s painful for everyone involved.

I sigh, resigning myself to a tedious few hours.

Hours that could be better spent fucking Adriana and instead they’re spent pursuing information to keep her safe.

“SPEAK.”

The acid smell of piss catches in my nostrils, and the predictability of events is beyond belief. At least we’re ahead of schedule, and with any luck, this should be over with sooner rather than later.

My eyes lock onto the demon who spoke earlier, meeting the terror in it with little mercy. It’s not in my nature and my underlings know better than to expect it.

“He’ll reward you,” Byron says in an unpleasant tone, edging toward the loathsome creature lowering itself before me. “He can be quite generous when it suits him. If it suits him. Your silence does not and he is not known for his patience.”

Sniggers rise from the edge of the chamber and Byron roars, extinguishing the laughter that threatens to undermine the little confidence left in this sniveling demon.

It crawls towards us, edging closer to its fate. The aers demon has a nature as vicious as Goetia, but it should be more intelligent. It would be a fucking delight if it would show some evidence of either at this point.

I resist the urge to bare my teeth or rip the miserable thing limb from limb. Mostly because eight limbs are too much fucking hassle for something so insignificant and I need a fucking answer.

“There are rumors, Lord.” It stammers and shudders as more piss dribbles down one of its legs. “I’m sure they’re just rumors—we all are—but they exist.”

Byron cuts in front of me, breaking my eye contact. I’ll remind him of his insolence later, in a suitably punishing manner. The deliberate act of insubordination will cost him dearly despite the fact it appears to have reassured the aers demon that I’m not quite as livid as I am.

“Go on,” he says, turning back to me.

I know the look. It says shut the fuck up and let me do my thing. It’s the expression he wears before the shit hits the fan, and this time, the shit is really going to hit the fan.

“It makes things difficult. When rumors spread,” the aers demon says, carefully. “It’s hard to know what is true and what is not. The shadows merge as the threads become increasingly complex and it is truly difficult to know what to believe.”

Byron rolls his eyes and I flick mine to his, laying the blame for this shit squarely at his door.

“I merely pass on what I have heard, Lord,” it snivels. “I know they are falsehoods for you destroyed Mordecai and wiped the scum who followed him from the circles of Hell. You purged the planes of existence from their filth. You wrought devastation and destruction on any who dared to help them and those who knew of their existence.”

Lucifer spare me from the torment of hearing my achievements recanted as if the praise sated my appetite for destruction. There’s only one thing that has ever tempered my need to demolish whatever stood in my way—and she is the goddamn reason I’m stuck here listening to this drivel.

I have pussy to fuck, and my cock is desperate to sink into Adriana’s wet cunt. My agitation boils over as my desire to play with the special girl who wears the Collar of Ichor takes hold. My collar.

“You do not need to recite my accolades,” I sigh. “I’m more interested in the rumors.”

The aers demon dips its head. “Of course, Lord. It is just that I do not wish for there to be any misunderstanding. I am merely a vessel for that which I have heard. I do not believe it and I have not repeated the filthy lies.”

Byron’s eyebrow arches and his horns sharpen.

“Pray, tell.”

He rounds on the aers demon and his demeanor is far from kind. The fire sparking from his fingers burns sulfur into the air and the infernos of Hell burn brighter. A demon is summoning their strength, and for once, it is not me.

“The rumors are…”

The tragic, odious creature shudders and its legs bend, prostrating itself before me.

“Others say Mordecai has found a way to circumvent death. That he has spent years in the wilderness between the planes of actuality, eking out an existence so abominable that even he could not bear it. They say he found just enough matter to haul his pitiful ass in front of our Master, and that he was so vile he disgusted even the Great One.”

The aers demon pauses and time beats on, working neither for me nor against me. The demon seeks reassurance that I am not angered and I can’t provide it. Yet it lives and that is proof enough that my wrath is tempered, although there is little comfort to be had in these hallowed halls.

“They say Mordecai has pledged his eternal devotion to Lucifer himself and, in return, Lucifer restored him. Temporarily, Lord. The rumor is that Mordecai was only restored in part and he must prove his worth for Lucifer to return his power to him permanently.”

The smoke gathering at Byron’s ankles rises and its grey-green cloud bellows as it spreads its vile venom across the ground.

If the rumor is true, and Lucifer himself helped Mordecai, then he will have demanded a heavy price. One too high for most to even consider paying, let alone considered able to meet its terms.

And Lucifer is not to be trifled with. His intentions are never clear, but he serves only himself and the other Princes of Hell prostrate themselves at his feet, afraid to cross him despite their power and prowess. You never reneg on a deal with him and you do not cross him.

Any deal Mordecai struck puts him at risk, but attacking him while he is under Lucifer’s protection risks a wrath no demon would survive. Even I could not withstand the onslaught that would be brought to bear if I interfered with Lucifer’s plans and there is no peaceful solution.

The moving parts and interdependent factors make this problem difficult to solve. The rules of the game are undefined and there are too many complexities in the murky waters, and we haven’t even begun unpicking Eva’s involvement in this. This problem is wicked in every sense of the word.

“What did Lucifer ask for?” Byron asks.

His voice is as sharp as a scythe and cuts through my reasoning. This is the lynchpin on which the enigma hangs, and unpicking it may solve the whole damn puzzle.

“I do not know.”

The aers demon lies and it will not save it.

“I will not ask again.” Byron snarls and the world shakes. “Tell us now and you will go free and be rewarded for your loyalty and service. Hesitate and your reward will be less pleasant.”

The threat laced in his tone is brutal and there’s no fucking way even a cretin could misunderstand it.

“I cannot be sure…” The aers demon looks petrified. More than petrified. It’s about to shit itself and if it doesn’t hurry the fuck up, I’ll gut it and save everyone the inconvenience. “I do not know the full details, Lord, but… the rumor is… that the deal he made with Lucifer is connected to the Altair.”

Demons fall to their knees and prostrate themselves, pleading for mercy as the inferno inside me ignites. I’ve spent more millennia than I care to remember chasing down the legendary angels who walk among the mortals—serving Lucifer as I pursued them without fear or favor.

I chased ghosts and stories, getting little in return but dead ends and squandered effort. In the end, Lucifer and I concurred they were a legend created to waste his time when it could be better spent on more enjoyable and effective abominations.

“The Altair does not exist.”

“Lucifer believes it does, Lord,” the aers demon says. “They say Mordecai promised to hunt the Altair down and bring them to the Great One for his pleasure. They say it is an impossible task and Lucifer will claim Mordecai’s powers for himself.”

The smoke billowing from Byron ignites into flames and the hall burns as his fury rages through it. Demons quake and their flesh burns as they endure a lashing that reminds them of their place. The smell of singed muscle and melting fat catch as Byron cools, turning his attention to the rancid demon quivering in front of us.

I’m far from calm, but I need to keep my composure.

There’s only one thing to do and it is far from ideal.

It’s the thing I should have done the last time I visited my domain.

Byron hauls the aers demon into the air and its feet scramble to find their footing, struggling against the hold of a demon far more powerful than it.

“Take the damn thing away,” I say, hissing with irritation. “Give it its reward. It’s earned it.”

I turn my back and leave Byron to interpret my words. All my underlings heard them and they know my mood and inclination. This isn’t the time for hesitation or moderation. It isn’t the time for leniency or feebleness, and it sure as fuck isn’t the time to wait for things to fall into place.

It’s time to find the goddamn Seer and ask him what the fuck is going on.