Chapter 11 #2
“‘Demons,’” Caleb repeated. “What about the souls who were condemned to Hell for the sins they committed while alive? Are they going to have free rein to come back here and commit those crimes all over again?”
Vinea waved a negligent hand. “Oh, we have no intention of setting them free. As you said, they are souls only. They have no corporeal forms like we demons do. Even if they managed to cross over, they would be nothing more than empty spirits, unable to do much at all.”
Caleb wasn’t so sure about that. He remembered how the spirit of that dead serial killer had almost pushed Delia into an empty pool when the two of them had gone to inspect his current house before he bought it.
Somehow, Caleb doubted a soul like that would be content to merely float around and observe what humans and demons were up to.
However, he had a feeling the demon lord wouldn’t care to hear such arguments, so he thought he had better try a different tack. “What about the humans who are already here? Something tells me they might not be too enthusiastic about this ‘integration process.’”
Vinea’s smile might as well have been the rictus of a corpse.
“Change is always difficult, nephew. But humans are remarkably adaptable. Those who embrace the new reality will find their lives greatly improved. Those who resist….” He gave an elegant lift of his shoulders, the sort of negligent shrug Caleb might have expected of a member of the French nobility back in the days before the Revolution.
“Natural selection has always been a harsh mistress.”
Such a casual dismissal of human concerns only served to remind Caleb exactly of who…
or, more to the point, what…he was dealing with.
Whatever sympathetic motivations Vinea and his demonic cohort might have for wanting to escape Hell, his final solution involved the subjugation — or downright elimination — of anyone who got in his way.
“How many are we talking about?” Caleb asked. He was trying his damnedest to sound disinterested, as if such concerns didn’t matter much to someone like him and that he was inquiring only to satisfy his intellectual curiosity.
Inwardly, he knew he wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his fingers around Vinea’s thin neck and squeeze as hard as he could. If that made him a murderer, fine. He thought he was okay with sacrificing one demon lord to save all of humanity.
Too bad that he knew he would never get away with such a gambit. Vinea would swat him like a fly the second he made even the slightest hostile move.
“How many what?” the demon lord asked, his tone utterly indifferent.
“How many humans are you planning to kill or displace?”
Vinea considered the question for a moment, his head tilted and mouth slightly pursed, as if he was doing nothing more consequential than trying to determine how many board-feet of flooring he needed to order for a remodel.
“Initially? Perhaps a few million, while the transition period works itself out. Long term? It’s difficult to say.
Much will depend on how quickly the remaining humans learn to accept their new place in the hierarchy. ”
A few million. Was that all?
Caleb forced himself to nod, as if the numbers were regrettable but acceptable. Inside, though, his stomach roiled, and he had to pray that none of his nausea was reflected in his expression. “And my friends from Greencastle? The other quarter demons who got trapped with the cambions?”
“They’ll be among the first to cross over,” Vinea assured him. “Think of it, nephew — you’ll be reunited with people who truly understand what you are. No more hiding, no more pretending to be something you’re not. You could all live openly, using your abilities without fear of discovery.”
The same temptation that the demon lord had dangled before him during their previous conversation.
Sure, Caleb couldn’t deny that seeing Sean and Keith and the others again, being part of a community where he didn’t have to hide his demon heritage, tugged at emotions he’d tried to suppress and downright ignore for most of his life.
The need to belong. Anyone looking in from the outside — anyone who didn’t know what he truly was — would have thought he’d had the perfect life in Greencastle, with his wealthy family and his role as the hometown hero star quarterback at his school.
It had all been a lie, though. Sure, the other quarter demons had known what he was, but everyone else only saw a shell, a facade.
But then he thought of Delia, of how she’d been startled to learn the truth about his identity but had accepted him into her life anyway. Of how she’d made him believe Las Vegas could become the home he’d always wanted.
Of the expression on her face when she told him she loved him. No artifice there, just a simple, honest acknowledgment of feelings she knew she couldn’t ignore any longer.
And then there were Pru and Ty, who also knew what he was and didn’t seem to treat him any differently than they would anyone else.
True, Ty wasn’t exactly your regular guy off the street, either, but it had to mean something that the half angel was willing to work with someone who should have been his bitter enemy.
There were all the others as well — Delia’s parents and her cousin and her fiancé, and all the innocent people in Las Vegas who were going about their daily lives with no idea that their world was about to be turned upside down.
He was the only one standing between them and the fall of night.
A swallow, and then Caleb asked, “When do we start?” About all he could do was hope that his voice conveyed reluctant acceptance rather than his growing determination to sabotage every damn thing Vinea was planning.
“Tomorrow evening,” Vinea replied. “The celestial alignment reaches its peak at 11:47 p.m. on May thirtieth. We’ll need to begin the final ritual phase several hours before that to ensure everything is properly synchronized.”
Tomorrow night. May thirtieth. The same day as Olivia’s wedding.
Of course it was.
“All right,” Caleb replied. He was somewhat proud of himself for sounding as if none of this was a terribly big deal. “What’s my role in the ritual?”
Vinea gestured toward one of the wall screens, which immediately shifted to show what looked like a detailed schematic of some kind of arcane circle.
“You’ll be positioned at the central nexus point, here beneath the chapel.
Your blood will be drawn slowly over the course of several hours, ensuring that the energy release is gradual and controlled. ”
That sounded like tons of fun. Maybe he should ask the demon lord to throw in a root canal while he was at it.
“Drawn how slowly?”
“The process should take approximately three to four hours to complete,” Vinea said, his matter-of-fact tone somehow far more chilling than any demonic hiss.
“And don’t worry — we’ll make sure you remain conscious throughout the procedure.
Your willing participation is essential for the stability of the network. ”
Of course it was. So…three to four hours of having his blood slowly drained while remaining awake and aware the entire time, feeling himself getting weaker and weaker.
Even a part demon could withstand a lot more physical abuse than a regular human, but Caleb still didn’t want to think too hard about how that would feel.
No, better to focus on the tactical possibilities the setup might allow. If the ritual ended up taking that long, all those hours would provide his team with multiple opportunities to intervene and get him out of there.
Assuming, of course, that they could actually infiltrate the building and at the same time come up with a way to disrupt a citywide supernatural working that was being overseen by an earl of Hell.
No pressure at all.
“I understand,” he said aloud, hoping he hadn’t paused long enough to rouse the demon lord’s suspicions. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Just one.” Vinea moved closer, close enough that Caleb could see his own reflection in the creature’s black eyes.
His tone turned silky as he went on, “I hope you understand that any attempt to sabotage this operation will result in the immediate and extremely painful deaths of everyone you care about. Ms. Dunne, in particular, would suffer exquisitely for your betrayal.”
The not-so-casual threat sent a flare of rage through Caleb, and his demon blood roared, wanting to strike out. For just a moment, the air around him shimmered with heat, and small flames licked up and down his arms before they disappeared again.
Impossible for Vinea not to notice, of course. His smile widened, revealing those too-sharp teeth.
“Excellent,” the demon lord said, sounding amused. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d lost your edge during your time playing house with the mortals. But I can see the fire is still there.”
Caleb forced himself to take a deep breath, wrestling his demon blood into some semblance of control. Getting angry wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Delia.
He needed to be smart about this.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice steady despite the fury that still coursed through his veins. “I’ll do what you need me to do.”
“I’m sure you will,” Vinea replied. “After all, you wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to your precious mortal while you’re helping to usher in a new age for our kind.
” The demon lord turned away then, the very movement utterly dismissive.
“Take him back to the holding room,” he told the guards.
“Make sure he gets some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day.”