Chapter 22 The Daemon Olethros
THE DAEMON OLETHROS
Marina
Corpses, each covered in an icy cloth, lined the alleyway below.
“Five fresh recruits of the Blood Heretics.” Soren propped his elbow up on his knee, looking over the ledge of the building.
His hood obscured his profile as he looked down at the massacre.
“It’s bad fucking news. Another Olethros.
The Daemon.” Soren looked back at her, the city’s crimson glow casting over his masked face like a dying neon sign.
The days of unnerving silence from Acacius had come to an end. He’d made his move.
Marina leaned forward to look around him. A crew of Blood Heretics filled the alley, a smattering of individuals in suits and long trench coats. Snow slowly piled on their shoulders as they used spells to clean the blood from the concrete and gently load the bodies into nearby vans.
She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, knocking the snow free. “You saw the monster?”
Soren nodded once. “Sure did. It’s just as the books described it.”
He referred to apocrypha written by the deities’ most favored scholars, who ventured into Tavora and supposedly caught a sighting of one of the creatures. The credibility was misguided, but Soren confirmed that the reports matched perfectly, giving more weight to their inked words.
Marina massaged her sternum with her fingers in an attempt to process the information without rash action. She was unable to take her eyes off the limp hand flopping out from underneath a sheet as its body was loaded into the darkness of a van.
Soren cocked his head, studying her intently. “You actually look disappointed.”
Marina crossed her arms, not bothering to hide the emotion on her face. “If the Daemon are in Hollow City, then Ash is in immense danger.”
Betrayal, yet again, cracked through her insides. Though, her hope in Acacius, the belief that he might actually care enough for her to do the right thing, was all her fault—especially when he’d made his feelings on Ash and Naia perfectly clear from the beginning.
“Is that all?” Soren’s voice softened, a friend asking about a friend.
Marina pursed her lips and drew in a sharp breath through her nose. “Perhaps you saw wrong.” She shook her head, doubtful. “I—”
Soren rotated his body and flicked his chin to the heart of the city, where the buildings pierced the dense fog into the upper atmosphere.
“If you want to see it for yourself, it fled that way when the Blood Heretics arrived. My guess is that it’s hiding up on one of the buildings to keep from being seen. ”
Marina peered out into the darkness, the steady blanket of snow drifting in its depths. What was she even saying? Soren wasn’t one to make assumptions. He knew what he saw.
“I just don’t want to believe it,” she murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s nothing against you.”
“Lord Acacius is selfish, and from what I’ve heard, he gets off on creating bullshit for others to deal with.” Soren brushed the frost from his hood and continued to watch below as the Blood Heretics loaded up the last of the bodies.
Marina pressed her tongue against the backs of her teeth, her disappointment squeezing her chest.
Soren reached out and lightly pinched her arm. “I’m here to help, Marina. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
She searched his eyes, the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. “Thank you, Soren.”
He blinked at her, dramatically placing his hand over his heart. “Nina, did you just show gratitude?”
She turned away, her cheeks flushing. “Nevermind, bastard.”
Soren chuckled, playfully maneuvering to reappear back in her line of sight. “Are you expressing your deep-set appreciation?”
She scowled, waving him off. “Go. I don’t want to worry about Ash.”
He laughed, placing his hand back on her forearm. “I’m teasing. You’ve just never thanked me before.”
A sign of growth, for this expression of gratitude had come easier than when she thanked Mansi and Viviana for helping her fight off Acacius.
“Continue to keep an eye on Ash,” she instructed. “Take out anyone or anything that threatens him.”
Soren gave her arm one last squeeze before stepping back, the somberness returning to his demeanor. “Done. What about you?”
She stared out at the silhouette of skyscrapers in the distance. “I am going to find the Daemon. I need to see it for myself.”
Stars hung in the night sky like glimmering gems. They were only visible high above the city lights, when she stood on the rooftop of a skyscraper, its piked top grazing the clouds.
Wind threw her long hair around, slapping her cheeks, as she waited. Up this high in the middle of the night, she did not have to worry about mortals sighting her without her glamor.
After teleporting from skyscraper to skyscraper, she was sure this was the one.
She flicked her index finger over her thumbnail, analyzing the veil of darkness before her. The air buzzed with a predatory aura. Nests were stuffed in the crevices of the steel, and yet, not a single bird was hunkered in the bed of twigs and grass.
The hairs rose on Marina’s nape as the silhouette of a large creature fabricated in the shadows in front of her.
She swallowed, her disappointment chiseling deeper.
This Olethros did not feel like the others that she’d come across. Its presence unnerved her, like she was back in the corridors of her mother’s palace, being hunted by hungry gods all over again.
It sauntered out into the light, revealing a gnarled, beastly skull in place of its head and the horror of its full form.
Gaunt, gray skin stretched over its slender frame, exposing the divots of its ribs.
Its chest was coated with crimson, as if it recently had a meal.
Patches of pale fur lined its shoulders.
Marina’s breath locked in her diaphragm.
The creature was emaciated, unnaturally tall with lanky, long limbs.
The front of its chin was split down the middle, reaching up toward its forehead.
Teeth jutted out from the layers of bone.
Flaps of skin lined with fangs extended off its neck and rested on its clavicles, made to devour.
Four horns crowned its head, two on each side, like massive, curled talons.
On its face were five holes: two large ones for its eyes, and three smaller ones constellated above them.
Adrenaline roared in Marina’s pulse, beating loudly in her ears.
The Daemon Olethros.
Acacius had really sent them.
Her heart shrunk.
You are pathetic if you thought he genuinely cared for you.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no time to grieve with a malignant beast before her.
It slowly advanced, hunched over on its legs and two of its hands, monstrous and starved of the desolation it craved. Its other two arms curled like wings behind its back.
Marina’s body stiffened as she pulled her divine energy to the tips of her fingers.
For the first time in a long time, she felt afraid, a feeling that stirred the bleakest parts of her back to life—the reservoir of power responsible for crafting her nightrazers. All she had to do was call on it.
But she wasn’t there to fight.
The Daemon twisted its head, the new angle of its long horns more intimidating than before, as if it were intrigued by her stillness. Did it expect her to panic? Perhaps it thrived on the fear of its victims.
She blinked, and its form glitched and reappeared within arm’s length of her. Its thick nails raked inches from the front of her neck as she jumped back.
She drove her arm out, ripping up the darkness swirling at her feet. The fog banded together in an elongated, curved shape, like a crescent moon. Its edge was thin but sharp as a guillotine.
The beast’s form warped into a blur and reappeared yards across from her, on the other side of the rooftop.
This was careless, even for Acacius. While he thrived in insanity, he was not one to boast his power like this. The Daemon Olethros were sacred to him, blessings of his Chaos rarely ever seen. He kept the worst of his tendencies in Tavora, including the Daemons. The idea was too profane.
The twist in Marina’s gut told her something was off. Or perhaps she’d only evolved in her foolish ways, holding steadfast to her self-destructive faith in him.
Though, some part of her refused to believe this was his move—sending the Daemon to absolve her sins by devouring Hollow City whole.
Acacius was volatile, but in their short time together, she’d learned too much about his character to accept this creature.
He was respectable in his own way, and he fought fair.
It was why he’d punished Torin on his own time.
The middle god had fought with poor etiquette, bathing in the carnage when she didn’t even strike back.
Marina analyzed the Daemon one last time before it could strike again—the way its muscles and tendons flickered under its frail skin, the slash in the center of its skull parting wide in its low growl.
She memorized every small feature of its appearance, down to the spired engravings on the base of its horns.
The night churned around her like an obsidian maelstrom, sucking her below and sending her to her next destination: the realm of Ruin.