Chapter 71 Call It What You Want
CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT
AZ
Az pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes so hard that it felt like his eyes would be forced to pop beneath the pressure.
But it still wasn’t enough.
They were doing nothing.
Waiting, waiting, for the perfect moment to rescue Luella. It all felt useless.
Something warm and furry curled around his legs, and he glanced down, finding Ven blinking up at him with her golden, glowing eyes.
She trilled, as if to comfort him.
A choked sob fell from Az’s lips. He crouched down, and the feline didn’t scurry away from his imposing form. Most animals were wary of demons, but not Ven—as if she carried a piece of her owner inside her, finding Az’s ferociousness more comforting than frightening.
"I know. I miss her, too." Az stroked his hand over Ven’s sleek fur coat.
"Talking to a feline, really, Azgorath?"
Az looked up, finding Tharen standing at the curtains of the room. It was Luella’s.
The demon found himself coming here more often than not, sitting on the bed, lifting the pillow to his face and pressing his mouth into it to catch traces of her scent.
Strawberries and cream-tipped roses, fleeting as if he’d inhaled all that was left.
Even the barest remnants of her scent were being etched away by time.
Az stood, swaying barely. He’d not had an appetite as of late; he wasn’t the only one.
Bastian hadn’t been drinking, but Vale quickly put a stop to that as he told the vampire, We need you to help get her back.
You cannot grow weak. All of us must be strong.
If you do not drink, you will stay here when the time comes to rescue her.
After that, Bastian had sated himself more often. Az allowed the vampire to drink from him, too. Blood of Luella’s Vincire was the strongest he could find since he couldn’t have Luella’s blood.
"You’re weak," Tharen spat. "Not eating, talking to animals… She’d be so fucking angry with you."
Az swallowed. "I know."
He was angry with himself, too, but didn’t know how to fix it.
They were all breaking. She’d been the only thing to keep them sane, to give them all a purpose—now she was gone, and they were grasping for anything to find her again.
Tharen ran a hand through his hair. Blood was flecked on his split knuckles and tiny droplets misted on his neck.
Az eyed the blood. "You’ve been with the others, then?"
"Yes, Graves brought back an Umbra spy that was trying to cross the border from Luna into Terra. He got him right over the border. He was a little roughed up before Graves brought him back, but he was already primed to talk then. It made it easier for us." Tharen laughed, dark and low. "I won’t fucking let him do that again. It’s not fun when they’re already trembling before I can wreck them. "
Tharen’s words were quiet, holding notes of resignation, yet fury sparked as he detailed the violence enacted on the Umbra they’d been bringing back to the Ilses to torture for information on Luella—and any hint of weakness that they could prey upon.
"Good. That’s good." Az watched as Ven pranced out of Luella’s room, tail held high as she sought out Tharen’s wolves, no doubt. "What did you learn?" The demon didn’t let hope fill him.
Tharen stepped further into the room, the curtains falling closed behind him. He ran his hands along the walls, trailing fingertips over the dresser and the fluttering drapes. "Not a fucking thing." He fisted the curtains of the canopy, yanking hard enough that the fabric strained.
"She’s in Luna," Tharen said. "The Tenebrae has her hidden at the castle, with no plans to move her for now. As soon as he does—whenever we hear word of it—that’s when we move. Because he’ll grow complacent, thinking that he’s untouchable just because he’s a godsdamned, well—god, or whatever the fuck he is.
And then we go get her and make him regret ever even thinking about her. "
"Then we bring her back to us—where she belongs," Az vowed quietly, voice broken. "It’s been three weeks. Do you think she’s… What do you think has been done to her? What if she’s hurt?"
Tharen was the last male Az should ever go to for comfort. He waited for the mage to scoff or call him too soft, but Tharen merely held Az’s gaze and said:
"If she’s hurt, we’ll make her better. If she’s broken, we’ll have to put the pieces together. Call it weak, call it what you want, but I’m fucking done pretending."
An echo of a smile touched Az’s lips. The action felt odd—the last time he’d smiled had been with Luella. "It took you long enough to come around. She’s too sweet to ignore."
"Tell anyone I ever said that and I’ll fucking gut you, beast."
Az merely nodded, wishing their conversation had left him a touch lighter. But it didn’t.
So he had to take matters into his own demonic hands. The things he’d done for her—the things he would do for her… It didn’t scare him any longer.
Az passed Tharen as he left Luella’s room, not looking back even as he heard the rustle of sheets, as if the mage had sat down on her bed.
Just as he thought, Ven was curled up on the lounges with Dyara and Lya wrapped around her, all while Akira sat on the floor, keeping watch over the three females.
Vale, Graves, and Bastian weren’t around.
As Az ambled down the stone steps to the water, the absence of rain was undeniable.
The twilight sky was free of clouds, a faint summery breeze rustling the high tree tops and sending the faint scent of brine to him as he boarded a small boat and began to row to the prison island on the far outskirts of the Isles.
It was deserted here. Luella’s storms and fury had ravaged the outer reaches of the Isles. Still, they were slowly being repaired by a constant team of Fallen workers, lifting water in buckets and clearing away the wreckage of huts and flooded walkways.
The moon rose as he finally docked at the prison island. Fires had scorched through the trees, leaving the once tree-dotted and green piece of land barren and charred—it felt like an omen.
He heard the screams far before he took the winding stairs that led below.
The prison was a stone structure, rising from the ground. That was why the underground hadn’t been flooded.
As the steady dripping of water began to faintly echo the rising symphony of screams and thumps of skin on skin, Az felt the need for vengeance fill him. He shoved open the thick stone door, and within, he found Vale pummeling a strung-up male—an Umbra.
Bastian stood against a wall, arms crossed. His red-tinted eyes met Az’s as the demon entered and let the door clang shut behind him.
Vale didn’t stop.
The Umbra was sobbing, white hair hanging dirty and soaked in gore, face a bloody pulp.
One eye was protruding from his skull wickedly, blood vessels popped.
The skin around the socket was inflamed and busted, like the force of the dragon King’s blows had been enough to rupture the fragile state of his eyeballs in his skull.
Az had to look away. He wanted to love violence like demons did, but he often felt like he had to force himself to do so.
He could stomach this—for Luella, he would endure.
He would listen to every scream, be the cause of the Umbra’s screams, too.
He’d force himself to watch, to listen, to rage, to hang on to every word and ensure nothing was missed.
"He’s useless," Bastian pronounced tiredly as he watched the display of violence without a drop of hesitation. "His mind holds nothing of note. The Tenebrae does not allow the Umbra to carry anything worthwhile."
The Umbra gave a scream as Vale lashed out at his stomach. Bone cracked. Blood bubbled up past the Umbra’s lips.
"Where’s Graves?" Az asked Bastian.
"Searching for more Umbra."
Az sighed. "Right."
They wouldn’t stop. Not until Luella was back with them, and everyone was so scared of them that they didn’t even attempt to harm her without quaking at the thought.
It was necessary. So why did Az feel a void in his soul, which was once filled with sweetness and strawberries at the mere memory of his Vincire?