16. Mammon
SIXTEEN
MAMMON
I cock my head as I thumb through Asmodeus’s text. Sighing, I get up out of my office chair, annoyed that I’m being interrupted, and head down to the basement. There are about five million things that have to get done today, so I don’t really have time to entertain whatever he has in mind. My brothers and I haven’t been able to spend as much time together as we used to, however, so maybe I can spare a few minutes to see what they want.
That is, until I reach the bottom step to the basement and see Asmodeus, Leviathan, and Luc already sitting on the circular couch.
With an empty chair dead center.
I groan, gripping my phone so tightly I’m afraid the screen might crack. “For fuck’s sake?—”
“We need to talk,” Asmodeus says, gesturing to the chair.
I narrow my eyes at him. “About what?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Leviathan snorts, his head draped over his owner’s shoulder as he begs for attention. “Come on, Mammon. What else would we want to talk about?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose as the thoughts I’ve kept pushing to the back of my mind rise to the surface. Clenching my jaw, I wrestle back control over myself, and huff. “Belphegor is fine.”
To this, Lucifer raises a compassionate eyebrow. “Are you?”
I suck in a subtle breath. No, actually, I’m not fucking fine. Thanks to Bel and Gore, the amount of work I’ll need to do is astronomical. Those two shits had no idea who they killed in their lust-drunk reign of terror. The mayor, for starters, is already a hassle enough to try to replace with someone I know would never betray me. It’s been easier to find others to take the police chief’s and the media specialist’s places, but where the fuck am I supposed to find another mechanical engineer on an island this small? A headache blossoms at my temple. All the things waiting to be accomplished today collect at the forefront of my mind. And the one thing that’s been impossible to escape?
The image of Gore’s big brown eyes filled with tears as he walked out of my office a week ago.
“This is ridiculous.” I snap, gathering my bearings. “I’m not sitting in the fucking circle.”
“You’ll do it because you know we’re right,” Asmodeus says, then urges me to sit once again.
We’ve been doing little meetings like this for most of their lives, always turning to crowd-shaming and peer pressure to get things sorted. It’s never been about right or wrong but as a way of keeping them in line. They can’t play these games with me because I know how it works. Just like I also know I could walk away from this if I wanted to. There’s nothing my brothers could do or say to keep me here against my will, but I hesitate to turn around. If I don’t get this over with, I’m going to be hounded about it, and that thought alone is what makes me cross the room and sit in the chair.
When I do and neither Asmodeus nor Leviathan speak, Luc looks between them and shrugs. “Okay, so, I guess I’ll start? You hurt Gore.”
I nod. “That was the point.”
“Did you need to make it so loudly?” Asmodeus quips, leaning back on the couch as he slaps his small sketchbook against the palm of his hand, the sound bringing back the memories of what started all this.
“How else would the two of them have understood me?” I ask.
“It was cruel.”
When Asmodeus laughs, Luc wrinkles his nose.
“What’s so funny?”
“Wrong choice of word in this family, Luc,” he says before leveling me with a look. “I was thinking ‘unnecessary.’”
“You spanked him in front of us, Mammon,” Leviathan says as he snickers to himself. “Extra as fuck maybe?”
“That too,” Luc says. Giving me a warm smile that I’m sure works wonders on Leviathan. It does nothing but irritate me.
“Are we getting to a point?” I snap, crossing my arms across my chest. “I was there. I know what happened.”
“You know they worship the ground you walk on—Gore the most—and you had to humiliate him like that?”
It doesn’t matter that those two are all I constantly think about. I won’t admit that I adore the way they chase me around like baby ducklings following their mother. It’s things like that that make leaders weak. Favoritism is a weakness that I can’t allow myself to have.
I snort. “Since when do you have a heart, Asmodeus?”
“We’re brothers,” he argues, his jaw clenching in irritation. “That shit needs to mean something, right?”
“Where was that loyalty when you were pulling my teeth out?” Leviathan growls.
“Get over it, Jesus fuck. You’re fine.”
“And so are they,” I say as calmly as I can. “All of you have received punishments in the past.”
Leviathan shakes his head. “It’s not the same.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “And why’s that?”
“Because you always make me do it and you didn’t this time.”
I swallow harshly at Asmodeus’s point. I can’t deny he’s speaking the truth. I find punishments necessary but am never the one to dole them out myself. I’ve never felt the need to. I’m the one who passes the sentence and knowing that my word alone commanded it is sufficient enough for me.
You also tend to think about it for more than a second.
I was rash, I know that. I would normally never punish one of them so swiftly—publicly, yes—but something about the two of them standing in front of me, freshly-fucked and covered in blood, made me lose my mind. I trusted them to take care of something, and seeing them so…cavalier about it, after all the hard work I’ve put into this uprising, was far too much for me. It’s almost like I saw it as a betrayal, as a way they demonstrated their lack of respect for my authority. But even thinking that sounds wrong…
Once again, that nagging feeling in my gut returns, almost like I did something wrong. But I stand firm.
“ Bel and Gore …” Luc tries to find the words, fumbling with his hands as he looks to Leviathan for help. “You know the two of them are…”
“Different,” Leviathan deadpans. “They’re not like us.”
Asmodeus nods. “The shit you do actually impacts them. Emotionally and stuff.”
That’s extremely true. While all of us—Luc included now—are connected by a deep-seated darkness we try to manage—we’re all different in our own regards. Leviathan is a mutt who needs an owner. Luc is a psychopath who’s lived in the skin of a human for so long that he doesn't even realize what he is. Asmodeus is a sociopath who can hide his deviancies well.
Bel and Gore…
There’s no doubt they’re lunatics. They’re completely deranged. Bel deals with anything he doesn’t understand by fucking it or tossing it a sarcastic comment as he chops its fingers off, completely letting the madness reign. Gore, on the other hand, becomes delusional. He can’t see the world clearly like the rest of us and it makes it easy for him to follow along with whatever Bel tells him to do. Bel’s lack of impulse control and Gore’s need to please is a deadly combination that always ends up leaving me with a shitstorm to clean up.
“You should apologize,” Luc suggests. “And not just to Gore. You know hurting Gore hurt Bel the most.”
“I don’t apologize,” I state. “I meant what I did and I don’t regret it.”
Luc looks at me in disbelief, jaw dropping just a tad as he shakes his head. “Don’t you at least feel a little bad?”
I clamp my teeth down hard on the inside of my cheek. Even though I acted quickly, I knew what I was doing. Bel takes pain and punishment in stride just like Leviathan. They don’t see it as actual attacks to themselves, but more of a not-so-gentle reminder to correct their behavior, like when you spray a cat with water to stop it from scratching up the couch.
Gore… Gore takes things personally.
He’s sweet and kind, so tender and sensitive. My words did more damage to him than my belt ever could. I was looking to inflict maximum damage, to make it clear just how up to the end of my rope I was, and I knew that hurting Gore would make it very clear.
But I also know that Gore’s insecure about…everything. He seeks my approval and my affection like a dying man seeks food and I took that love and loyalty and tossed it in his face. Bel sees Gore as I do—a perfect princess to pamper and take care of—so having no choice but to stand by and do nothing as I humiliated him put him in his own place.
They haven’t spoken to me since it happened. They’re always around, always wanting my attention, always bringing a much-needed reprieve to my days, but they disappeared into their rooms and haven’t even come out for dinner.
I don’t want to admit how much that hurts.
So, I don’t. I clear my throat and stand as I put an end to this ridiculous and weak attempt at an intervention. “This is over. Dinner is at seven. Don’t be late.”
Luc looks disappointed, not that I give a shit. Leviathan seems like he couldn’t care less, but Asmodeus frowns. “You should make it right, Mammon.”
And I chuckle dryly and cruelly on my way up the stairs.
Because none of us know the meaning of that fucking word.