Ronen
Chapter
Twelve
My shadows slammed inside my body like the roaring wind against the castle as I moved far and fast away from her rooms. They wanted to go back to her.
Them. And they weren’t alone. Rune padded behind me, slower, sulking.
Probably hoping Lucille would call her back.
That wasn’t going to happen. Nor did I want it to.
She forced us out. She stayed with him. I would not subject my eyes, ears, or mind to whatever was going on in that bathroom. I added yet another layer to the fortress between us, refusing to allow even her strongest emotions to breach my walls. I did not want to feel—
Acid churned in my gut. Its corrosive bite sank into my power.
The wide stone stairwell switched from dark gray to deep blue under my infrared vision.
Two blood-banded maids coming up the stairs took one look at me and abruptly stopped.
Their wicker baskets creaked beneath their punishing hold.
Their bright heat signatures shook the closer I came.
For fuck’s sake.
I had nothing against human blood-banded.
But they spooked easily, especially around me.
I tried to smile as I eased the pressure from my eyes.
Their garish colors bled away as my vision adjusted, sharpening into knotted brown hair, crimson-and-white dresses, and two pale, wide-eyed faces.
They pressed back against the gray stone, the linens in their baskets wobbling like the flames inside the sconces above their heads.
Rune approached them slowly. Their shaking increased.
Rune, you’re huge and swallow people whole. Back.
She sat on the stairs, calming her shadow fur so it moved less and she appeared more like a dog. It didn’t help.
I tried to raise my hands in an appeasing gesture as I walked toward them.
Two steps away, Lucifer’s blizzard crashed against the window at my back.
They yelped and took off up the stairs. Rune, being a menace from Hell, chomped her teeth and growled after them.
They squeaked. One tripped. Linens flew.
Helpful.
Rune’s sulking mood lightened a touch.
“Why did I even bother?”
She bounded down the stairs, her fur dancing with humor.
We continued through the castle and stopped at the healers’ wing. Hopefully, Sam had some insight into the infection that I could give Lucifer. Maybe that would calm the blizzard hindering my Dreads’ efforts.
Only a few assistant healers made rounds on the sleeping patients. We steered clear of them, heading toward Sam’s lab.
I knocked on his door and waited. No answer.
I knew he wasn’t sleeping.
“It’s Ronen,” I said, knocking again.
Sam opened the door a crack, considering me and only sparing a glance at Rune, who made herself comfortable on the floorboards. “I assume you’re here to inquire about the infection?”
“Yes. I’m meeting with Lucifer soon, and I’m sure he wants to know—”
“I’ve stopped the blood study, just like he ordered. The samples are gone.”
“Stopped?”
“Yes,” he answered a little too quickly.
I frowned.
Lucifer had demanded we find a cure; now he ordered Sam to stop?
“What was his reasoning?”
“That we don’t know enough about the infection? And that…” He tapped his lip, contemplating something. “That I’m too valuable to risk exposure if I tested their blood samples.”
Sam’s speech patterns were odd. He never ended a statement with a question. Nor did he pause and trail off in the middle of sentences.
“Did Lucifer say anything else? Suggest a different solution?”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “After I proposed gloves, he proceeded to remind me of the state of the blood-banded in our dungeons and told me to find a different way. Check back with me in a couple days. Hopefully I’ll have a solution by then.
” Then he quickly shut the door, ending the conversation.
Odd. All of it. Sam’s behavior and his explanation of Lucifer’s reasoning.
Sam had been monitoring and studying their blood before he showed me the gory mess. Logically, if Lucifer was concerned about Sam’s well-being, wouldn’t he have told him to stop the moment we saw the three infected angels? Unless he’d had a momentary lapse in judgment and saw reason later?
What the Seven Hells is going on with this kingdom, Rune?
She lifted her head from her large paws and sent confusion through our connection—and hunger.
Dorus has what we need.
Fresh flesh, and a place to settle my thoughts and questions.
The sounds of chopping, stirring, and the hustle of preparation calmed me.
There was a time I never thought they could.
But Dorus had her ways, with her words and food.
She had my favorite breakfast prepared for me in my spot.
And she had bloody chunks of meat for Rune in hers.
I pressed a kiss to Dorus’s cheek in thanks.
We ate. I helped out a little. Then we left and walked to the Hall of Judgment.
Pushing open the blood-red door, I glared at the tortured souls filling the illustration.
My insides felt a lot like the fiery scene.
And I hated it. It wasn’t just jealousy.
Oh, it was there. It never had been until her.
But it was also possession. Protection. The combination of the three was like a poison sneaking beneath my skin and slowly searing through my restraint.
The more I cared about her, the more the carefully kept leash on my shadows corroded.
They wanted the pet gone. Erased from her life.
I had to fight against my dark nature. Only, the more I watched them interact, saw the guardian bond in action, the more I wanted to succumb to my shadows’ desires.
Alexei had been right. I didn’t have the luxury of losing control. If I did, the consequences would be far more disastrous than one murdered male.
I snapped and pointed next to the doors, ordering Rune to stand vigil. Then I rolled my shoulders back, keeping my shadows at the ready, and strode down the throne room toward Lucifer.
He lounged in his wood-carved throne, backlit by the lancet and rose windows.
Red light filtered through the stained glass, smearing blood across the black marble floors.
A quarter-full crystal decanter of whiskey sat at the foot of his throne right next to the carved head of a weeping angel.
And in his hand dangled an almost empty tumbler.
His eyes were glassy, suit wrinkled, legs spread apart like an indignant youth—something I’d never seen before. I imagined he had already polished off half the decanter.
I kept my steps measured and my frown behind an impassive mask as I approached.
“My liege,” I intoned, bowing.
“General.” He nodded, his gaze unfocused.
I took my spot beside him on the dais. It wasn’t my place to question him in public, but I itched to demand if he was in his right mind to perform his duties.
Shoving down my inquiries, we waited. And waited.
No souls came in. After a few more minutes watching him sip his drink, I lost my grip on my words.
“Are we judging souls, or am I to watch you drink yourself into a stupor?” As if he wasn’t already in one.
He slowly inclined his head toward me, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Please, General, by all means, find us some souls to judge.”
“That is your responsibility,” I hissed.
We didn’t have time for this. I could be searching for more infect Damned, informing my military of the infection’s new developments, planning an operation to search for Oliver’s sister, or training with Alexei to remove the wrath desperate for an outlet.
Anything but watch the king drown in his suffering and slack in his duties.
“You told Sam to stop his study. Yet you want a cure. How do you suspect he’ll accomplish that?”
“He’ll find a way.”
That was pretty much what Sam expressed. Still, I needed a better answer.
“Has the land given you any other insight on the infected?”
He screwed up his face in thought. The grip around his glass tightened. The veins in his neck strained. Then all at once, he relaxed. “No.”
At this point, I didn’t know why I bothered to ask. But I had one more question.
“Why didn’t you send out the missive?”
“Missive?”
I opened my mouth to remind the drunk of his words when the doors to the hall creaked open.
“Wonderful, a soul to judge.” Lucifer smirked and raised his hand, tipping his drink to the newcomer. The moment I twisted, the temperature plummeted, and the female was fully encased in ice.
For fuck’s sake.
“That is not how you judge souls.”
Lucifer straightened. “And you would know this how, General? Are you connected to Hell?” He stood. “Can you see what I see?”
“No.”
“Then remember your place.” He punctuated his words by flinging out an icicle and shattering the female’s body. Flesh shards clattered to the ground, then dissolved and seeped into the marble down to a circle of Hell.
Over the years, I had judged souls with Lucifer. There was almost a ritualistic pattern to the process, down to the words he said. It changed slightly when the Damned came into play, but he had never once skipped the whole process.
“You didn’t inform her of your reasons behind her sentence or the circle she’d be placed in.” My fingers twitched, tempted to rip his sloshing drink from his hand.
He smiled. “I imagine she’s finding out right now.” He threw back the rest of his drink and steadied himself on the arm of his throne. “I think you’re done here.”
“I disagree.”
Saraqael had broken him. He hadn’t seen her in twenty years.
Their bond had been severed for much longer, and still her death defeated him.
But I shouldn’t be surprised. He never stopped loving her.
For fuck’s sake, he allowed me to stay hidden in his kingdom so I’d one day replace him, so he could be with her without fear the council would punish them.
He couldn’t handle judging souls right now.
Lucifer formed an icicle and slowly raised the tip to my carotid while he continued to hold his chair for support. “I am not asking. I’m ordering.”
I could’ve knocked him down with one kick to his knees. But what would it do?
I wasn’t the king. I had no leverage here. He alone had the ability to look into a soul and deem them fit for redemption or recycling. I was backup, so it wasn’t like I could take his place. Nor did I want to. But I feared what leaving him alone would do.
“Go.”
I stepped into the icicle, feeling it pierce my flesh as I went boot-to-oxfords with him. “Yes, my liege.” My shadows covertly threaded from my palm and absorbed the rest of his drink in the glass and decanter.
Cutting him and infiltrating his mind to speed up his detox pathways wasn’t possible, not unless I wanted a deadly fight. We’d tried that before. It never ended well. That left me with one other option: absorbing his alcohol.
My shadows were designed to absorb blood, assimilating the cells at unnatural speeds through my saliva, giving me the instantaneous power to control minds. Without my saliva, my shadows couldn’t purge whatever we absorbed.
Which meant, as my shadows seeped into my mouth, I had just risked my own impaired judgment by absorbing the rest of his whiskey and had seconds before it affected me.
Before he noticed his lack of alcohol, I luscelered out of the hall and ordered the servants on standby to ignore any demands for more and to remove any from his rooms. It might do nothing.
He might leave and find more. But at least I tried to do the right thing by this kingdom and Lucille’s father.
My head felt light. My movements were jerky. I didn’t remember the last time I was this compromised.
I staggered to the arena, knowing I had a responsibility to inform my warriors of the new dangers, seeing as the king wasn’t in his right mind to.
All I had planned was to give them a debrief and stand in the shadows until my system metabolized the alcohol.
As a Seraphim, it wouldn’t take too long.
Maybe a few hours. I didn’t predict any consequences from my intoxication.
Maybe that should’ve been my first warning regarding my judgment.
Well, besides steadying myself on Rune at every step.