Chapter 6
I was a mess.
I’d felt self-disgust many times. I doubted anyone who’d screwed their family’s killer wouldn’t feel that.
I’d felt shame many times since my return too.
But this shame was different. Not because I’d relinquished control to our mating lust last night—or because I’d treated Darthy so cruelly.
This shame was different because I couldn’t feel myself.
The woman who’d returned here, all her fire and drive and reason for being—saving her son.
Everything she was dangled out of reach, like a wall existed between her and me.
Like she was a memory. I could imagine what she might say and do, but then those reactions didn’t resonate in me any longer.
Not through the shame.
Not through whatever this joining had done to me.
I stared at the stack of books in the corner and crossed to them. The urge to discover exactly what was going on within me was so faint. I could hardly summon enough fight to seize hold of that urge.
I forced my hand to the top book and flipped back the heavy cover.
The Origins of Demon
I’d read every book on demon mating in the royal archives at sixteen. This wasn’t the subject I needed to read about, and yet it was a start. If I had to go to the archives and find a relevant book, then the motivation to understand what was happening to me might disappear altogether.
I read.
Born of smoke, rising from the ashes to disappear in flame.
From our dawning we have existed this way.
So we always shall.
This wasn’t all new to me. The first question any human may ask when discovering a magical being was How?
That was the same of any species. How had we come to be?
For the Magus, we arose from the mother, and our power was granted and passed down by our ancestors.
I didn’t know the origin legends of Luthers and Vissimo.
Or any other supernatural species, now I came to think about it.
Parts of the pages were worn, and some of the writing faded. I squinted at the words in the next paragraph.
First came demons to a barren world without any other kind. When the natural instincts of demon threatened them to the point of extinction, then the strongest sought to form another race. One that upheld the power of demons and left behind the self-destructive tendencies of the race.
Werewolves were born, and soon after called themselves Luthers.
The two races could not understand each other. Luthers possessed a powerful pack bond and would go to great lengths to protect each other. Something that they termed loyalty, a word that did not exist in the demon tongue, and does not to this day.
With the Luthers’ departure, they took the demons’ hopes of a community, and perhaps took their ability to display loyalty.
They also left envy behind in the hearts of demons, and no small share of despair and confusion—for if this was what demons had to achieve to form a community themselves, then they could not see how to begin.
Next came witches and warlocks, who soon referred to themselves as Magus.
They quickly formed large and organized communities, calling their vast homelands “covens.” With their creation, demons lost half of their power, which the Magus twisted from darkness to light to become the incompatible opposites of their mother species.
Not deterred by their failures, and fueled by a dwindling demon population, the strongest original demons convened yet again.
Vampires were formed. Vissimo, they wished to be known as.
Strong and fast, they possessed a natural drive to live in clans whereby their power and age determined their rank.
Vissimo had inherited the demon drive for violence.
And for a time, the original demons believed they had succeeded in their mission.
However, where demons preyed on their victim’s pain from a distance, a Vissimo preyed directly on their victim, in the form of drinking blood.
Ironically, there was a lack of cunning and finesse in this species that demons—though unable to maintain a community as Vissimo could maintain a clan—detested in the other species.
But with the departure of the Vissimo, they took half of demons’ need to inflict pain.
Enough, the originals discovered, that demons gained some control over their previously undeniable drive to feed on the nearest victim.
The strongest demons gained least from the creation of the new species, with far more power to control, and a larger drive to feed.
The weakest demons fared best, possessing a smaller need to feed.
A hierarchy started to form. Under the rule of yellows and whites, demons began to live in progressively larger groups.
With the arrival of humankind on Earth as a food source, war between Vissimo and the demon race was largely ended.
The four species spread to the vast distances of the world, and demons were left at its molten heart where they had first been born, and where they had given life to Luthers, Magus, and Vissimo.
I closed the tome. “Whoa.”
Not that I believed all of this, necessarily.
But if this was true, then all supernatural species—or four of the strongest at least—were derived from demon.
What was more, I could see the mother in this.
Demons had come from somewhere. They liked to believe their origins were in smoke, but perhaps Magus had been able to admit the truth where demons never had.
The Luthers taking our loyalty.
The Magus, half of our power.
The Vissimo taking half of our need to inflict pain.
Enough that demons had survived. Wasn’t that balance? Wasn’t that a sign of the mother?
Of course, I hadn’t failed to notice the mention of “under the rule of yellows and whites.” Whites.
I wasn’t chasing this particular subject before, but the distraction from my pathetic life was very welcome.
Opening the tome again, I thumbed through the pages. Were the leaders listed through the ages? The only white demons in this realm were animals now. That hadn’t always been true, if this book were to be believed.
I closed the book again. “No list.”
I needed a book about past kings. The motivation to walk to the archives had found me. That felt like a tiny win. But I didn’t want to face Carmine yet.
Diving within, I felt around my heart for the mating that coated it. A golden spear was embedded in the iron casing around my heart, and a thread was attached to the arrow’s end.
From the beginning of our mating, this thread had attached me to Carmine, but now I could feel Carmine’s location and see the thread so clearly.
The thread had changed color from gold to black and crimson, and the thread was thicker, like a braid.
The braid shot off through the wall toward his exact location.
Where was he now?
I grunted after feeling along the braid and arriving at the end of the thread, only to find it dangling in space.
Huh?
I retraced the thread, then left my chamber to follow it.
Weaving through halls and past the training hall, I then stopped in my tracks at the sight of guards blocking a door beyond. I’d never been down here.
“I need to see Carmine,” I said to the guards.
They glanced at each other.
The bravest answered, “Mate-intended, the king is at war.”
At war? The demon gates were through there? “I see. Will he be long?”
“Just a recon mission, mate-intended,” the other said, bowing after. “He just left, but we have orders to send the army if they do not return in three hours.”
I dipped my head. “Thank you, soldiers.”
I kept my steps slow and steady until out of sight and hearing. Then I opened a portal to my room and slammed the door shut.
I couldn’t feel Carmine’s location, which meant he couldn’t feel mine.
There was no hesitation in me, and perhaps there should have been more, but I’d opened a portal to a midway location before releasing my held breath.
I stepped through and checked for physical and magical company before opening another.
This time to my baby boy. This time to Adeuto.
For a moment, I just stood on the dunes overlooking our shack. Even from here a person could miss it. We’d disguised our hideouts well.
My son was down there. I wanted to hold him. I took a single step, then halted.
I can’t go to him in this mess.
Because I’d been a mess since the joining ritual, and that feeling was growing worse. I had to get a grip on myself before going to my son. I had to tap into my strength again. Find it again.
I drew in large breaths and dredged up my happiest memories: those of holding my son for the first time, of his laughter and smile, and of my childhood with my family.
Those things felt so distant. I was still here, right?
A sob left me.
Had I lost myself to the mating with Carmine at last?
I whirled to look behind at the sound of shifting sand.
I sagged. “Neti. You scared me.”
The white-scaled animal was somewhere between a horse and ox. Stocky, but with long legs that helped the creature navigate the sand with ease. “Where is your baby?”
She stared past me.
I peered back. “Inside the shack?”
She didn’t say yes. Then again, she couldn’t speak. I was glad to deny that a nismus may be living with the boys for a few minutes longer.
“Honestly, girl. I’ve missed you. Desert life was simple even if it was false freedom. Now I have less every day.”
That was the truth. And why was that the truth? I should care about why, and yet that question kept slipping away before I could find purchase on it.
Neti edged closer, and I wasn’t bothered. She’d let me touch her calf. This creature had bonded to my family for reasons I couldn’t understand. “Why did you choose us, Neti?” I smiled. “Hey, you have white scales. Don’t suppose you know the names of past rulers with white scales too?”
She touched her nose to my boot.
“I need new ones.” I grimaced.
She nudged the boot again.
“What is it?”
She did the same again. Rougher this time.
“Oh, the blue gem? I forgot.” Slipping Adeuto’s gem in my boot was a habit these days. I reached inside and wiggled the gem free, holding it to her. “Do you like it?”
Neti stepped forward and touched her nose to the gem.
And the world exploded.