Chapter 13
Coffee in hand, I made my way back to the Demon Faction’s floor.
I had left the building not long after the meeting ended with the founders, since I didn’t really have any clue what I was doing.
I’d been thrown into the deep end with no life jacket.
Thrusting myself into a world I didn’t know well wasn’t granting me any favors.
But I hadn’t expected to be in the position of making decisions just days into moving here, either.
I couldn’t decide if I’d be better off spending my time at home or diving deep into the shit going on.
I wanted to see the Pax thrive, so I figured my expertise would be best situated actually doing the damn work, much as I didn’t want to.
When I was leaving Hell, I was finishing up one last torture session with a previous president of the United States.
He’d been accused and convicted of human trafficking, and my job was to bring his worst nightmares to life.
The man was a leech. I shuddered in revulsion at how easy it was to get his secrets out of him.
It was satisfying to chop off his manhood and feed it to him in his dreams. He deserved that and more, honestly.
So did every other human who committed atrocious acts against other humans.
Samael was leaning against the wall as I stepped off the elevator.
His long frame made him appear as if he didn’t give a fuck about anything, and usually that was the case, but I could see the tension radiating throughout his body from the clench in his jaw to the way his shoulders drew up near his ears.
Bracing myself for a fight, I waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, I spoke first.
“Samael, you waiting for little ol’ me?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He stood up, stretching his neck from side to side. “I think we started off on the wrong foot. I should have introduced you to the faction to welcome you here, but I’m shit at this. Sorry you had to walk in on what you did.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “Samael, you know where I came from. That was nothing. But I was peeved that you’re the de facto leader of a faction, and that you were completely oblivious to what was going on. If you want to lead, then you need to be responsible for the people around you.”
“That’s why I’m standing here. I don’t want to fucking lead.
It’s one of the reasons why I came here in the first place.
I was tired of making life-altering decisions.
With Pan’s death, there wasn’t anyone else stronger than me.
I couldn’t let that slide. My pride wouldn’t allow it.
The only person who can give me a run for my money here is you,” he said, eyes pleading.
I put my hands up and took a step back. “Oh, fuck no. I didn’t come here for that either.
I don’t know enough about what’s going on to even be considering this.
I only know enough about this damn world because I pay attention.
Knowing on an intellectual level and living it are two completely different things,” I admonished.
“Yeah, but that’s why you’d be great in this position. I think you should consider it. There are folks here who need a new perspective. Your history makes you the perfect fit.” Sam was persistent, I’d give him that, but that wouldn’t change my mind on this.
I looked everywhere but at him while trying to think my way out of this.
He had a point, but I wasn’t here for a leadership role.
The timing was awful. I had single-minded focus toward one very stunning redheaded Fae.
I was tired of court politics—tired of the constant power struggles that plagued a Demon’s existence.
I was, nevertheless, interested in learning more about the Demons here and what changes they’d made to their own lifestyles since leaving the Demon Realm. I told Samael as much.
Samael started walking toward what appeared to be a main street of sorts.
It had businesses along a sidewalk selling various wares.
I guessed you could take the Demons out of the realm, but not the capitalistic mindsets away from the damn Demons.
Even in a post-currency world, there would always be material needs that must be met.
I was curious how those Demons fared when given an opportunity to walk away from that life.
Did they genuinely enjoy spending their time peddling goods and services, or was it compulsory for them?
Samael and I walked in silence while people on the sidewalks stared at us.
I ignored them in lieu of checking out the area we were in.
“So, tell me, Samael. What differences are there between Hell and here? Right now, nothing really appears any different. If y’all were so ready to leave Hell, why make this place in its image?” I asked.
“You know Demons are resistant to change. A lot of us were more comfortable having familiar surroundings here, to ease us into living somewhere none of us really knew or understood.” Longing crossed his face as he stared into the window of a shop.
Curious about what caught his attention, I stopped next to him.
Poe was browsing the shelves. Smirking, I wondered what she was doing here instead of working with the Goddesses. Curious.
“Okay, I get that, but what differences have been made here that you couldn’t find in Hell?” I asked, trying to get us back on topic.
“Not a ton, honestly. There is more respect between different races here, so not as much infighting. The faction provides almost anything any Demon race needs, so folks aren’t struggling as they were in Hell.
It’s left us open to things we wouldn’t be able to do in Hell, like not taking shit deals from curious or desperate people to stay afloat,” Sam said.
I was happy to hear this. The Demons needed to see that we were worth more than we were given in Hell, and it was probably time they had the opportunity to learn innovation from people who weren’t corrupt as fuck.
Demons should’ve always been allowed to think for themselves, but that wasn’t always the case.
We had a lot of smart and innovative folks who never got the opportunity to stretch their wings, metaphorically speaking.
Some of the best conversations I’d ever had about philosophy, and about the human condition, came from Demons you’d never expect to think more deeply than their next kill.
Samael stopped near a water fountain in the middle of a square.
It was quaint and not what many people would expect to see in Hell.
I was sure the Biblical version of Hell seemed like all torture, fire, and brimstone to humans on Earth, but honestly it wasn’t much different than medieval architecture on Earth.
This was a little more modernized than Hell was, but not by much.
There was lovely terracotta cobblestone throughout the “street,” and at the center of the fountain was a stone statue of Lucy and some of his concubines.
The only difference really was that instead of water, it appeared to be blood.
The Demons who’d been tracking our movements started toward us, and I anxiously watched them gather.
I had no desire to become a spectacle here.
I just wanted to be left the fuck alone.
We had a prophecy to fulfill, and I was beginning to think that the murders had something to do with it.
Was me coming here what set off the events?
Samael sent out a wave of his power, garnering the attention of the onlookers and others in the vicinity.
They circled around us, and Samael planned to put on a bit of a show.
I rolled my eyes, trying hard to act as if I belonged here.
This was the kind of spectacle that I’d avoided as much as I could in Hell, but apparently some things never changed.
I had dressed up a bit today, forgetting about that fact as I gazed down at my shoes and crossed my arms. I wore gray slacks with a white button-down and suspenders.
My leather Chelsea boots completed the outfit.
I had my hair down for once, thrown over one shoulder.
I hadn’t considered making first impressions when I left the apartment, only that I’d maybe get to see Adaela today.
Standing here now, I realized I came in as if I were prepared to become the next faction leader. Fuck.
If this were Hell, I wouldn’t just be standing here being introduced to the faction, so I knew of at least one difference between Hell and St. Louis. Duels would have already broken out. I snorted to myself. I’d heard many stories even in Hell about how St. Louis wasn’t much different.
“Everyone, I know rumors are flying about this woman right here, so I figured I would formally introduce her. This is Vada Livinicus. She is quite possibly the strongest succubus to ever exist, considering she is also the first succubus,” Samael started.
He had a habit of talking with his hands, and because he wanted to show off, he also had his wings on display.
Since he was a fallen angel, his wings were massive.
They were retractable, too. I wasn’t sure how the magic worked, but they unfolded from his back in a grand display.
Bright white plumage rose above his head by a couple of feet and almost touched the ground.
They were impressive, I’d give him that, but everyone gathered around had seen this song and dance before, and it was clear they no longer gave a fuck.