Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Val
T heo’s demon face morphs into a blank mask I can’t read, and the transformation from a rogue hellbent—pun intended—on seducing me to this hollow martyr awaiting doom sends sick, ugly fear slithering through me.
The Infernal Palace stretches high above us, a behemoth of an ornate stone that looks part cathedral, part mausoleum, and all terrifying bring all ye virgin sacrifices inside. I half expect the walls to bleed any second now.
Flames shoot up from every arched opening. Hell, the stairs in front of us lead to what looks like a water fountain except it too is engulfed in flame, spewing lava. The heat stings my skin.
“Should we call the fire department?” I ask, reaching for my classic defense mechanism. Snark is my superpower . “Do demons even have fire departments?”
Theo doesn’t give the slightest hint of a smirk. Well, shit, I guess he meant it when he said this meeting with his dad is serious.
Making sure I have a tight hold on the bag carrying Monty, I bump Theo’s side. “Hey, talk to me. Tell me what to expect because right now I don’t know if I’m supposed to pray to the weird castle.” I gesture toward the church-looking architecture. “Or mourn whoever they buried in that hella big, scary-ass tomb.”
“Wrong palace. The tombs are in the Valley of the Gods.”
Oookay . “Right.” I don’t ask where the Valley of the Gods might be, who’s buried there, or if we can stay far from it. “Do we have to go inside for this meeting with dear old demon dad?” I’m hoping he says no.
“Yes.” A muscle in his jaw tics below a cut that has barely healed. “While we’re here, you must stay by my side.”
“Sure.”
He finally stops staring at the palace as though he’s willing it to disappear and locks his scarlet gaze on me. “I mean it, Vicious.”
I grin. “I think I’m starting to like that nickname and the exasperated way you say it. Your annoyance even makes the itty bitty black horns on your forehead dance beneath the big ones.” His growl has me stopping, but at least I made him think of something other than dread for whatever waits inside. “Please. As if I would wander off in a place as sketchy and scary as that. I’m not stupid.”
“You charged into a mob of cyclops.”
“One time,” I argue because it’s better than agreeing he’s right. Ugh, why does he have to be right? “Come on. Let’s go.”
He continues to stare at me, not budging.
“Fine,” I say. “I promise. Can we get this over with now?”
“I would like nothing more.” He sweeps a claw forward, nudging me with his wing. The protectiveness of the gesture makes me melt a little.
Inside, the ceiling rises dizzyingly toward the sky.
“The better to allow flight,” Theo explains in a murmur.
Low purple flames fill a trench that runs along the center of the enormous entryway the same as most would decorate with a nice rug.
“Brimstone fire,” he says.
I gesture to the dozens of blazing torches and pits lining the walls. “As opposed to regular fire like the interior designer overdid everywhere else?”
He ignores my sarcasm. “Its fumes can be poisonous to humans. The high ceiling and open archways should provide enough ventilation if you stay away from it.”
“Great. Is everything here trying to kill me?”
“Probably.”
Clusters of demons gather on either side of the brimstone pit, their skin gleaming in the strange firelight. A few have red skin a similar shade to Theo’s. Others range from a sickly pink to a burgundy so dark it borders on black. I count four shades of blue and at least six of green. A slithering grey monster crawls up a thick column, and I don’t want to guess what fat beasts worm along the floor closest to the pit.
The demons differ in size from tiny ones that could ride the miniature unicorn Theo rigged his casino for me to win to a hulking goliath who sulks in the far corner. Some have wings, but those again go from butterfly-small to long, slender feathers that trail behind them like the cape I wear.
Horns come in every shape from Theo’s twisting ones to massive antlers to blade-like spikes that remind me of the dagger strapped to my thigh. Thank goodness Theo let me bring a knife. I’m like a two-pound, toothless chihuahua parading in front of a pack of rabid wolves.
The only similarity they all seem to share is their judgmental glare aimed my direction. If they could laser off my skin with their eyes, they would. Fear slides through me, chilling the smothering heat of the flames.
“Friends of yours?” I ask Theo.
“Family.” He turns the word into a curse.
“The same family who tried to kill you?” I whisper. “The same who might have opened the portals?”
“The exact same,” he says.
The crowd parts, and a grotesque throne looms in front of us. It twists upward in a collection of horns, wings, and bones. From between the fanged teeth and hollow eye sockets of skulls, dark flames flicker, casting eerie shadows that dance along the floor in a macabre writhing as if the beings reaped to provide those awful trophies still suffer, trapped in an eternal torment.
I’m opening my mouth to ask Theo to tell me it’s a product of my overactive imagination when his monstrous mommy storms our way. Memories of my last meeting with her flood me—what she called me, when she’d told me I would never be good enough for her son, how she’d dug into my deepest insecurities. That I’ll never measure up. That I’ll never be worthy. I want to curl into a ball with Monty in the tiny bag I carry.
“Theodopolis,” she says on an angry hiss. “You make a mockery of this court by bringing your human pet.”
Pet? Who’s she calling pet? I stiffen my spine, ready to tell this woman who terrifies me what I think of her name-calling nastiness when Theo interrupts my suicidal intentions.
“Father ordered me to bring my mate, Mother,” he counters smoothly. “Even if he hadn’t, it’s my right as the crown prince.”
Well, damn. His regal go fuck yourself is way better than any insults I’d come up with in the nanosecond I had to think.
Except his mother hasn’t finished. “Not this human. Pick any other mate from all the species in all the realms. But not her . She’s not the one for you.”
That’s it. I’ve done nothing to this woman for her to put me absolute last on the world’s least desirable daughter-in-law list. I mean, I don’t want the title. I glance at Theo. I don’t think. But I don’t want someone finding me unworthy of it, of him . “What did I ever do?—”
Theo wraps his wing tighter around me. “What have you done, Mother, to make you so afraid of us being together? Most would celebrate the Fates deciding a mate is worthy of me. They’ve decreed Val to be my destiny?—”
“You ungrateful child,” his mother cuts in, and I see where he gets his interrupting tendencies. I can blame my ADHD brain and misfiring neurotransmitters. What’s her excuse? “I’ve sacrificed everything for you and your sisters, and you can’t even grant me this small favor?”
Theo shakes his head. “Refusing a divine gift is anything but small. Until you answer my question honestly, we’ve nothing to say. Shall we, my love?”
I blink. My love ? In that honey-coated, sex-dripping voice? It does things to me I can’t stop to process when we’re in a mob of enemies. Instead of dwelling on the overwhelm of his words and his mother’s hostility, I let him lead me past her toward the throne.
“Maybe we got your worst parent out of the way first?” I whisper.
“Hardly,” he says. “Normally, there would be two other thrones flanking the king’s. As his heir and chief advisor, I am my father’s right hand. My mother would sit on his left.”
The meds help me focus on what he said and sort through possible reasons without the barrage of extra chatter in my mind. I seize on the best option. “Is finding a fated mate really such a big deal here?”
He stops scanning the crowd to let his gaze drift from my eyes to my mouth and back again. “Fated mates are revered. A match can be arranged for anyone, but our kind live for the possibility of being granted a true mate.”
I suddenly want away from this place and back in bed curled against him again so I can feel cherished…if only for a moment, even if it’s only pretend. The scorching heat of the flames reminds me we’re surrounded by monsters who meet the definition in every sense of the word. Theo needs me to be strong, not to fling myself at him and test whatever this attraction is zipping between us.
“So could there be a reason that there’s only one throne is a good thing?” I ask. “Maybe instead of an official court judge and jury thing, this will be more of a yay, you found your mate party?”
“Doubtful.” He scowls at green-skinned demons leering at me. “It might have been to meet you if Father had summoned only us. Instead, he has dragged the entire family into court.”
My mouth goes dry. The monsters seem to close in around us. “When’s the last time your dad did this?”
“Decades ago. The night he officially named me as his successor.”
“Then what—” My breath whooshes out of me as a mass of swirling darkness stretches toward me.
Pretty human . A rasping voice snakes through my mind, dragging its claws to shred my attention span. I press my fingertips to my forehead, trying to get it out of me.
Theo hisses, the sound making me think of a lion more than any housecat. He unsheathes his claws until they stretch longer than my dagger and his face twists into a nightmare of fangs. He’s my best chance at a protector tonight. My ally. My mate. The last doesn’t scare me as much as maybe it should.
The pool of darkness emerges into a humanoid shape. Golden eyes flash where a face might be. I would’ve finished killing you, cousin, if I’d known such a pretty prize was up for grabs.
My skin goes clammy. Revulsion and fear twist inside me.
“Touch her and die,” Theo vows. Or I think that’s what he said. It’s hard to tell with all the growling.
The voice continues in my head. Don’t need to touch her to make her scream, but I will. She’ll be fun to break.
What the hell does that mean? I curse the thought the next second because an image floods my mind—carnal, awful precursors of what this monster would like to do to me. I suddenly wish I hadn’t taken the meds because, oh god, oh god, this is too much of a violation. I won’t be able to unsee whatever comes next. The images blink to black as inky as whatever kind of demon this might be.
Theo stabs forward with his claws, swiping through air where the darkness had been a split-second before.
I stare where the shadow phantom or wraith or whatever this is reforms. Only to vanish again. “Theo? What’s happening? Who?—”
“Reginald,” he says, not taking his gaze away from where the creature last disappeared.
“Reginald?” I ask. This badass, terrifying thing’s named Reginald?
“My cousin’s a shadow demon,” Theo says as if that explains everything. “Mostly demon, but part shadow monster—you know, shadow monsters, the horrors that terrorized the hell dimensions before my ancestors vanquished them.”
I didn’t know, and I could’ve gone my whole life not knowing. My pulse pounds in my ears, my breathing goes shallow, and freaking Theo is giving me a history lesson. “That’s great. But where’d he go?” My words come out too fast, too choppy.
“He’s circling us,” Theo says, and he rounds slowly as though tracking the invisible threat.
Stalking my pretty prey. The voice swarms from all directions. Something brushes against my arm, trailing through my hair, and prickles rush over the nape of my neck.
Other demons push closer, the crowd pressing against us.
Theo stabs at them with his claws, shielding me with his wing.
Screw this.
I won’t play damsel for anyone. Not against an enemy I can’t see and have no idea how to fight. Not against whatever the blue-skinned hag with spiders for hair might be or that pony-size worm slithering toward us. Pushing aside fear worked earlier today when I’d tossed caution and common sense to go against the cyclops.
Reaching for the dagger, I draw it from its holster with a soft whisper of metal against leather. I clutch it in front of me, scanning the crowd and plastering myself against Theo’s side.
We’re outnumbered, outmatched.
Seems you’ll be mine, pretty . The phantom voice rushes through my head again, invading like a virus. I like my prey to fight before I take them.
“Come out and show yourself, Reggie boy,” I taunt. “I’ll give you a taste of metal before I lop parts off.” I might as well talk big even if I feel fragile and vulnerable.
My bag shakes and shudders, popping open and hanging in the air a moment before a flash of copper and gold flies up and out of it.
Monty .
“Montejanus.” The name repeats through the crowd, rippling over the demons like a horrid wave of worry.
A moment of silence and stillness has me thinking maybe we’ve gotten through this, maybe the standoff is over.
Then madness erupts in a clash of antlers and horns, claws and talons, grunts and snarls. I duck and swing, keeping behind Monty’s flames and within the protection of Theo’s wings. I lose count of the number of blows the mob land against Theo’s already battered and bruised body. He’s too busy protecting me to defend himself properly.
“Enough.” A bellow echoes through the throne room, and the crowd freezes. A demon drops from above, a heavy-looking iron crown around his brow below his horns. He’s the same shade of scarlet as my demon, but cracks cross his skin like veins of molten lava.
The demons around us drop to their knees, their gazes falling to the floor. At least Theo’s still standing next to me, and Monty hovers at my side.
“Father.” Theo bows his head.
I don’t bother with the same courtesy. Not with the ugly look the king gives me. There’s no way I’ll take my eyes off Theo’s scary dad. I’m not sure if I should curtsey, stab him, or try for both.
“One of you needs to die,” the king announces to the crowd.
Panic squeezes my chest tight, and I curl my fingers around the dagger’s hilt. Looks like it’ll be stabbing after all.