Chapter 10
Lucifer healed Saer’s injuries while consuming more of his blood. He stayed conscious long enough to note the blur of scarlet liquid on his maker’s lips.
Saer drifted off to the fallen angel’s praise, “You’ve done well, my child.”
He slept, soaking in the Hellsfire as the blaze worked to restore and heal what Lucifer could—or would—not.
A familiar, if tentative, caress skimmed his jaw, disrupting his rest.
Saer stirred and squinted his eyes open to take in a blurred version of the chamber he’d recovered in before—one down a long corridor from Lucifer’s throne room. His maker was nowhere to be seen.
Crouched next to him, Neyu’s bewitching face came into partial clarity. His good eye focused well enough, but the one Errshek stabbed swam with fluid, not yet recovered.
The First’s brow furrowed, and his heart went from steady to racing. “Neyu?”
“Saer.”
When she didn’t continue, he blinked in hopes of seeing her clearly. It was little help.
Saer swallowed and tried to work his rough voice again. “Why’re you here?”
She leaned forward so close, their noses brushed against one another. The fluttering in Pride’s abdomen surged.
“You almost destroyed me,” Neyu said.
The fluttering plummeted, ice cold. Saer shook his head and tried to move away, but Neyu’s arm snapped up, her palm gripping the thick horn at the side of his face, keeping the First near. Unable to move, Saer could only utter against her lips, “I wouldn’t have—”
“You would have.” She emphasized the accusation by squeezing Saer’s metallic horn with such ferocity that her limb shook. “If Father hadn’t stopped you, I would no longer exist.”
Neyu’s accusation echoed off the walls and inside Saer’s skull.
“Neyuukhan,” he beseeched her. “You’re my mirror, my match. I wouldn’t end you.”
“Swear to me you won’t.” Her voice dropped, and something about it snared his insides.
“Neyu—”
“Please, Saer.” Her thumb stroked his cheek.
He wanted to reassure her at the same time it unsettled him that she required it.
“Why ask this of me? What are you afraid of?”
“I have one father, one master,” she hissed with the brittle edge of a plea. “I will not have two.”
Saer’s frown deepened. “I have no intention of becoming your master.”
Lust shook her head. “If you hold power over me, you command me. If you command me, I’m your slave.”
“I’m older than you. My power is greater than yours whether I have the ability to destroy you or not.”
A deceptive rumbling, like a kitten’s purr, vibrated in Neyu’s chest. She leaned and brushed her lips against Saer’s ear as she whispered, “Not right now, it isn’t.”
Saer growled in turn and pulled away. This time, she allowed it.
“Are you threatening me?”
The demoness paused, jaw tense. “I won’t harm you unless it’s commanded of me, Dearest. All I want is the same reassurance from you.”
Saer regarded her words, the silence falling heavy between the First and Second. ‘Dearest,’ she called him. The term sent his tired mind into a swirl of confusion and bewilderment...and something else.
Something warm and glowing, a balm on seeping wounds.
“Consider yourself reassured,” Saer murmured.
“Do you swear it?”
He groaned and shut his eyes. “Yes, I swear it. Let me sleep, Neyu.”
She nuzzled Pride’s cheek. “Thank you, Saer,” she said.
He fell back asleep before Neyu exited the chambers.
Lucifer completed the Daemoenica’s human skins while Saer recovered. The moment for his kin to transport to Earth came, and they each shifted into their two-legged frames at the foot of their maker’s dais.
The Twins, Arek and Alus, departed as a pair.
Golden skin and lean but muscular anatomy gave them the appearance of athletic males in their prime.
They came almost, but not quite, to Saer’s above average height.
Wavy, sun-bleached hair fell in a charming and disheveled mess on their heads with bronze patches at their temples.
Arek’s eyes remained lavender, and Alus’s, steel gray.
Runeak, in human form, stood four inches shorter than her eldest brother at slightly under six feet, her flesh carrying hues of the darkest earth kissed by midnight.
The demoness’s hair hung past her shoulders in thick, ruby ropes, save the two segments at her temples—these glittered with the same obsidian hue as her hooves, claws, and horns reflected in her full Daemoenic form.
With a final glare from her equally onyx eyes, she disappeared to the surface in a blaze of Hellsfire.
Errshek and Kalia bickered about going to the surface as a disgruntled and unsure duo.
If it were possible, Errshek’s human form appeared even less remarkable than his Daemoenic one.
He’d been molded with a slight build, neither muscular nor plump, and almost half a foot shorter than the First. With dirty blonde hair falling a finger’s width above his brows, it hid his most remarkable feature—lighter, cream-hued strands of hair which might be found at either side of his scalp, just past his hairline.
Errshek’s flesh didn’t seem pale, nor bronzed, nor dark.
The Sixth’s complexion reflected brown enough to pass muster in almost any setting without calling any attention, wanted or otherwise.
In the right light, a dusting of freckles might be appreciated across his nose.
The auricles of his ears spread just a little too wide, his olive-green eyes barely too close together, and his nose on the wrong side of too broad at the base to be pleasant.
Kalia’s human shell possessed a softness not seen in any of her kin.
Lucifer dotted her round face with dark freckles, topped with shoulder-length honey brown hair.
Shorter than the others, she came to Saer’s chin, though she didn’t miss the chance to look up at anyone with unamused, earthen-brown eyes.
Two small circular, ivory highlights shone at the left and right side of her forehead.
Her complexion reminded Saer—he realized with a twist in his guts—of Ruki’s.
When only he and Neyu stood at the foot of the dais, Saer glanced upwards.
Lucifer slumped over one arm of Its throne, face buried in the pillow of Its upper limbs. Labored breaths lifted and dropped the fallen angel’s shoulders and wings in a steady cadence.
You will work apart, the command Lucifer had given him on their first day together replayed in the back of his mind. Once again, the bitter thought that his maker created Neyu to be his match, just to keep them apart, slithered through his conviction. The oaths he’d taken.
His maker couldn’t come to the surface in Its given form, so It had told Saer.
A lie?
But if it were a lie, his maker would have no reason to send Its creations to Earth in Its stead.
With a hard swallow and one final stare at Lucifer’s diminished form, Saer made a beckoning gesture to Neyu as he tip-toed from the throne room, out of eyesight and earshot of the fallen angel.
She padded silently behind.
Neyu’s human form begged to be touched, as was only befitting of Lust herself.
Voluptuous curves blended with exquisite musculature under her flesh, as flawless and pale as a pearl.
The delicate lines of her face carried a symmetry to make artists weep, her lips full and pouting.
Rich waves of sable cascaded just past her shoulders with gleaming silver crescents at the forefront.
Just as Pride maintained his pale blue eyes, hers endured in a magnificent azure hue, pulling every unsuspecting passerby into their depths.
Her nails maintained their silver glint atop each lithe finger.
She inarguably carried every physical asset to draw anyone’s attention at every turn.
Saer saw everything she offered beneath the perfection. Her cunning and revolutionary spirit. The kind-hearted and sometimes infuriating boundary-tester. Fierce protector of their own.
Though, to say he possessed immunity to her appearance would also be a mistake. She tied his insides up in knots for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom.
A human thing, Saer argued to himself. Let it go.
After they’d made it to a chamber far enough from the throne room, Saer held a hand in offering.
Neyu’s attention settled on his open palm. She stared.
She hadn’t spoken to him since retreating from his chambers. After he’d used the spark of unmaking on her. How could he blame her?
The corners of Saer’s eyes tightened, and the instant before he dropped his arm, she placed her hand in his.
He just stopped from saying her name, offering her a quiet growl of gratitude instead. Her gaze flicked to his, and he summoned Hellsfire to take them before Lucifer could call them back.
A buzzing, both light-hearted and anxiety-ridden, addled his brain. As though he’d been fresh-born again. Yet, he’d never experienced anything like it.
Ruki once tried to explain nervous excitement to him, like butterflies in the stomach. The memory of the boy sparked a whole round of other conflicting emotions, and he shoved them away.
What in the Hells is wrong with me?
Alone. With Neyu.
Able to speak with absolute freedom, learn from each other, embrace their power as a team.
The flames died around them, and the familiar chill of the surface brushed against his bare, pale skin. As the blinding glare faded, his demoness melted into focus.
Neyu seized his attention without trying, then shifted her attention upward.
A thrill ran through him when she gasped as she took in the sky, then her lips broke into a brilliant smile.
He’d not paid any mind to the endless expanse overhead during his time with humanity, other than to acknowledge how it changed. The sun, clouds, rain, stars—all these he relayed with point-blank disinterest when discussing Earth with his kin.
Neyu, he swore, saw magic.
“It’s breathtaking,” she whispered.
Saer pried his eyes off her and tilted his head in an attempt to see what she did.
Midnight sky. Thousands of glittering stars. A full moon cutting through the dark. The brush of their vaporous breath when it touched the atmosphere.
Saer dragged his eyes back to his demoness, his heart full to observe her wonder. His eyes lingered on her face as he murmured, “Yes. It is.”
Expression still alight, she closed lips over her full grin and lowered her attention to glance about the rest of their surroundings.
They’d arrived in an endless expanse of golden plains. Rare, thick-trunked trees dotted the landscape, their silhouettes haunting against the background of night.
Some distance away, fires burned. Saer spotted grass huts, recognizing them as a variation of those he’d known before. He switched to his heat sense, only to have Neyu’s warmth blind him to all else. It seemed fitting, somehow.
Don’t forget why you’re here.
Saer blinked to return to normal sight and instead lifted his chin towards the fires. “A human settlement. We should find clothes, then we can begin there.”
Neyu squeezed Saer’s hands, drawing his attention back to her. “Are you so eager to take more souls and return home that you wouldn’t watch my first sunrise with me?”
Saer’s lips parted, but she released one of his hands to touch her fingertips against his mouth, and his heart sped. “Let go of your duties for one night,” she murmured.
He’d made an oath. They both had. He’d already tempted fate by sneaking away with Neyu.
But he couldn’t deny her.
Saer nodded, whispering, “One night.”
Loath to break contact with her, Pride lowered Neyu to sit upon the grass, the fingers of one hand still laced through hers. “I didn’t desire to hurt you,” he said. The words left him before he considered their impact.
Neyu knew what he meant without any additional explanation, and she shook her head, turning her face to the stars once more. “We start again. Here. I don’t want to be afraid of you.”
The words punched him in the chest, and he forced down a hard swallow. He despised that she’d felt fear at all, but also sensed she didn’t wish to be pressed.
The sky lightened, and Saer didn’t take his focus away from Neyu’s stunned and stunning face as she witnessed her first dawn. The wonders of the world threaded through her in ways he’d never considered, yet he experienced them for the first time with her.
Birds woke and chirped. Wind rustled her sable hair, and the Second tilted her head back with a slow blink to drink it in. The warmth of the sun kissed her naked skin, glistening off her silver crescents, and she released a long and languid exhale. “Show me the humans.”
Pride stood and helped his match to her feet.
Together, they walked towards the huts.