Ronen
Chapter
Fifteen
Adraft from Lucifer’s never-ending storm snuck through the leaded windowpanes, flickering candlelight across my desk and brushing my bare chest. The chill helped the pounding in my head but didn’t cure it.
Maybe I needed to subject myself to another frigid shower to ease my hangover.
Or sleep. But I couldn’t. I had too many problems to fix.
After writing the missive Lucifer failed to send out, I picked up Alexei’s reports. The first pulled a heavy sigh from my mouth. My inebriated speech scared the majority of the Bowels and Trenchers, and enough blood-banded in the higher squadrons that they refused to leave the barracks or arena.
That’d have to be dealt with.
I read the second report twice.
It seemed the nanny had told Xavier and Ian that Cecilee stopped in for a couple minutes, then left.
If it had been that quick, was Ridigar lying about waiting? Or was the nanny protecting Cecilee?
To desert Hell’s military was to either forfeit one’s life or be recycled. If she deserted, I had to find and punish her. And if she didn’t… it was possible the infected Damned had a hand in her disappearance.
I needed to question Ridigar again.
And the last report I slammed onto the pile with all the rest. They all stated the same damned things.
Verdant Forest—no sightings.
Hoar Hollow—streets clear, no reports of missing persons.
Eternal Forest—tracks reported, then gone within yards.
All in all, unable to locate the infected Damned.
“What are we missing?” I glared at the slashed circles marking the map on my desk.
They were everywhere, outweighing the few Xs noting confirmed attacks or my own sightings.
Alexei and I had gazed at this map until we were both so frustrated we had to punch it out in the arena. None of it made sense.
The infected Damned had soul-bodies; they weren’t apparitions that could slip through barriers and disappear…
My desk chair squeaked as I leaned forward, dragging a finger between the scattered Xs.
Eternal Forest. Veil Forest. Hoar Hollow. Shard Field.
No line. No pattern.
My hand stilled.
We continued to think the infected Damned were invading and holed up in a secret hideaway.
But only half of that was fact. The rest was a theory—the only logical one.
Except the idea that the Damned could invade the Redemption Circle wasn’t logical.
It was impossible. Unfathomable. So what if our theory needed to be just as impossible?
What if the infected Damned were entering and leaving the Redemption Circle at will without Lucifer knowing?
That’d explain why every search came back empty. But Lucifer had said the darkness was lessening and growing.
Unless—
No.
If the infection were spreading, we’d see it. Liquefied flesh piles. Other infected souls. Panic in the streets.
Instead, we had footprints that led nowhere.
But if they were leaving our circle, how could Lucifer still feel them in the land at all? He was only connected to the Redemption Circle.
If only I could follow one. But that’d require finding one. Unless I released the infected we had in our dungeons under the guise of an execution and accidentally let them escape.
I heaved a sigh. It wouldn’t work. I didn’t believe Lilith was their only creator. And if she wasn’t… then someone else led them. Someone who prepared the infected Damned in the event they met me.
They’d never believe I’d accidentally let a prisoner slip through my grasp.
So that again left me with the task of finding one.
I rubbed my hands over my face. The pressure of everything, our utter lack of progress, screamed failure into my head.
Even Lucille added to the noise.
Her beautiful name rested in my mind before becoming squashed by the bitter image of her entering his room.
Before I lingered on those thoughts and my shadows threw a fit, I went to my closet and put on loose training clothes. Rune opened her eyes, growling softly.
“You can stay here,” I assured her. The grump.
Satisfied contentment hummed through our connection as she settled her head back onto the bed. Rune loved her sleep. When she rolled to her side, exposed her belly, and peeked at me, I snorted.
“You’re pushing it.” But I gave her a belly rub anyway.
I swore the little demon smiled, knowing I’d give in.
My shadows came out from the contact, intertwining with hers.
They danced back and forth, from my skin to her nebulous fur, reacquainting themselves as if long-lost friends.
We both enjoyed the peace and oneness we felt as we allowed our shadows to bond.
I had to be careful, though. A Soulhound’s life was created by a soul ascending from the Immolation Circle, then solidified when they chose to bond, taking on their keeper’s power.
If I let our shadows connect for too long, they’d eventually meld and come back to me, killing Rune.
So I kept these moments brief and to a minimum. The price of peace was too high.
“Rest up, pup. I imagine tomorrow will be long.”
Rune licked my hand, then curled into a giant, undulating black ball as I left for the arena. I swore she only spread out when I was sleeping next to her, digging her paws into my back.
Passing the pet’s room quickly, I kept the barriers between Lucille and me thick and impenetrable. I didn’t want to hear or feel anything from her. I couldn’t.
The halls were quiet at this hour. Even the blizzard that had been pummeling the castle minutes ago had calmed. Maybe Lucifer was finally seeing reason.
Nearing the arena’s doors, a soft thunk sifted through the wood, then another.
Who else was up at this time?
Entering, I found MJ shooting arrows from one side of the arena to the other. She made hitting a target from three hundred yards look easy. After twenty years of witnessing her skill, she still impressed me. Her accuracy and efficiency with a bow were unparalleled by anyone I’d come across.
“Should I be concerned you’re up?” MJ called out, releasing an arrow with a twang.
I walked over. “Are you surprised?”
“No.”
“Should I be concerned you’re up?”
“It’s Knox’s creation day,” she stated, pulling back another arrow. Fire burst onto the tip before she let loose. Flying through the air, the flame grew and grew, hitting the target with a forceful blast. It melted the canvas and incinerated the straw base. “What’s your excuse?”
I arched a brow. “You do know we pay for those, right?”
MJ rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you back the measly Hellmarks you pay me.”
“Measly?” I scoffed.
MJ and Alexei were paid very well. Most of the higher-level military members were.
If they desired, they’d have enough money to purchase a house in Hell.
Although, I had a feeling Alexei enjoyed being in the castle and close to the barracks.
People were his thing. Unlike MJ. Our military tended to avoid her if they could, finding her rough around the edges and blunt.
A secluded home on the outskirts of Hoar Hollow seemed perfect for her, but she continued to stay here.
“You’re avoiding my question, Ro. Spill it.”
I didn’t need to explain Alexei’s reports to her. She already knew. So I filled her in on my new theory. She appeared skeptical at first, then her pursed lips turned to a begrudging nod.
“I’m assuming you’ve already considered some kind of blood-witch magic.”
“Yes. But the information on them is nonexistent. I’ve already checked with Cato.”
“What about Anya?” MJ suggested, sounding doubtful.
I snorted, then paused to consider it. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” She was the closest thing we had to a witch in residence. “But we can’t limit ourselves to thinking it’s some kind of witch magic. We have to exhaust every outlier and possibility.”
She hummed her agreement and raised her bow. My shadows slipped out of me, picked up another target, and positioned it in front of the one she destroyed.
MJ released her arrow and twisted toward me before her shot thwacked into the bull’s-eye. “Are you going to tell me why you’re actually here now?”
I crossed my arms and contemplated my chances of leaving without repercussions. MJ lifted a brow as if to say, do it and see what happens.
I peered into the shadows of the empty arena, wishing for someone to walk through the doors and save me from this conversation. Unfortunately, it seemed everyone wanted to sleep. “The hellion seems to be rekindling her relationship with the pet.”
From the corner of my eye, a smile grew on MJ’s face.
“Why are you smiling?” I snapped.
She laughed, disbelief ringing in the sound. “Because you actually admitted it!”
“You would’ve stabbed me if I didn’t.”
MJ shrugged. “Maybe. But it took you almost two months to admit to your bond, and I had to pry it out of you. I still question if you would’ve said anything if I hadn’t figured it out when I shot her.”
“Fine.” She was right. MJ had that habit. “What do I do?” I gritted out.
Seven Hells, it hurt to ask for help. I was more than three hundred years old and didn’t know how to start a relationship? Pathetic.
MJ’s grin stretched wider, something teasing lurking in her fiery amber gaze.
“I will volunteer you to change Lex’s bandages next and salve up his wings as he regales you with all his sexual escapades,” I seethed, narrowing my eyes.
Her grin fell into a glare. “I’d rather get bitten by an infected.”
“I’m sure you would.”
She sighed as if I ruined her fun. “Show her who you are, Ronen. She barely knows you outside of this.” MJ waved her hand around the glass-encased sandpit.
“That’s nothing special. You want her heart.
You’re going to have to open yours and give her every piece you’ve kept to yourself. Good. Horrible. Annoying. Honest.”
Honest. The word sliced into my gut.
“And what if I haven’t been totally honest?”
MJ waited for me to explain.
Fuck.
“What if I knew Lucille was draining her mother?”
“Might as well tell Aspen she’s his then.”