1 PART OF THE PROBLEM
PART OF THE PROBLEM
I T WAS WAY TOO EARLY FOR CONVERSATION.
Raum slouched on the kitchen barstool, head propped up on one hand, the other wrapped around an espresso cup. It was his second one, but he was going to need a couple more before the ache behind his eyes went away.
“Raum was right before,” his brother Asmodeus was saying, making Raum regret whatever it was he’d said.
He wanted no part in this. “It’s the safest course of action.
It’s been almost a month since you reached out, and since no one’s turned up on our doorstep, we can assume that means he’s on our side. ”
Asmodeus reached up to the cupboard and grabbed another cup. Though he lived on the floor below with his Nephilim girlfriend, Eva, Ash often came upstairs for coffee in the mornings.
Raum’s other brother Belial was on barista duty as usual, since he never wanted anyone touching his shit. The former King of Hell guarded his kitchen like he’d once guarded his underworld lair.
Over by the fridge, their fourth brother, Meph, was sitting on the counter—to Bel’s annoyance—with his arms around his girlfriend, Iris, a witch with bright blue hair and tattoos. She stood between his legs, her back to his front, and he was whispering shit in her ear, making her laugh and blush.
At least they weren’t making out. If it was too early for conversation, it was definitely too early for witnessing that.
As for the rest of their crew: Iris’s twin, Lily, and Lily’s boyfriend, Mist—formerly Hell’s Hunter before his defection—were at Lily’s apartment, and Eva was likely still asleep downstairs. She’d never been an early riser—constant gigging as a musician had made her a permanent night owl.
Raum could get behind that. Mornings were overrated.
The newest member of their weird family, a hellhound puppy Iris had named Faust, sat at Raum’s feet with his head in his lap, eagerly awaiting head scratches.
Raum gave him a few. Faust scooted closer, wanting more.
“He’s going to ask for another fucking favor,” Belial growled, slamming the portafilter against the knock box harder than necessary to dump the used coffee grinds.
“It’s not like we have any other options,” Ash said. “You’re supposed to meet with him tonight. We’re kinda past the point of reconsideration.”
“We do have another option: chop his fucking head off.” The grinder fired up as Bel prepared another shot.
Ash raised his voice to be heard over the noise. “We’ve been over this. Like, ten times.”
They had. And they still couldn’t agree.
As powerful demons who’d escaped Hell, breaking every rule in the book, their number one priority was making sure no one knew where they were hiding.
When Raum had first learned that Murmur—a Duke of Hell known as “the Necromancer” and an all-round shady backstabber—knew their location, he’d been the one talking Bel into requesting a meeting so they could negotiate.
Murmur had been open to it before—in exchange for an open-ended favor from Bel, he’d helped rescue Mist, Lily, and Iris from Hell.
Sure, he’d turned around and betrayed them right after, tracking them back to Earth and then selling their location to the highest bidder.
But if they worded the contract specifically enough this time, they could make sure it wouldn’t happen again.
But now … Raum wasn’t so sure.
“If you try to kill him and fail, we’re fucked,” Ash said, sliding onto the barstool beside Raum as Bel ran the next espresso shot. “He’ll retaliate out of spite.”
Ash was right, and only a fool would think Murmur would be easy to kill.
The Necromancer was known for the army of souls bound to his service.
No one knew how he’d prevented them from being trapped in the Nine Rings—the place where souls went upon arrival in Hell—but however he’d done it, they obeyed him mindlessly.
Formless ghosts empowered by necromancy made formidable foes.
Then again … if anyone was up to the task of killing Murmur, it was Bel.
It was said that the only demon in Hell who could best Belial was Lucifer himself, and even that was a point of contention among many. There were factions of demons tired of Lucifer’s rule who plotted to overthrow the High King and put Belial on the throne.
Unfortunately for them, Bel had no interest in ruling Hell. He just wanted to be left alone in his kitchen with a fridge full of food and a cookbook.
“This would be so much easier if demons still wanted your first-born child,” Meph said unhelpfully. “We could just steal a baby and give it to him. Problem solved.”
Iris laughed, shooting him a look over her shoulder. “We’re not stealing a baby.”
“Murmur could be a good dad. You never know.”
“Yeah, and I could be the Easter Bunny.”
Meph grinned. “Oh, yeah? Then where are your cute little ears, baby?”
Iris stuck her tongue out, and he grabbed her jaw and leaned down to kiss her. As usual, they didn’t stop once they started. The mutual looks of disgust exchanged between the rest of them were a bonding experience no one wanted.
“This is a goddamn embarrassment,” Bel snapped, sliding the fresh shot toward Ash and smacking a hefty palm on the counter. “We have no bargaining power and no choice but to give Murmur what he wants. It makes us look fucking weak.”
“What else can we do? He knows we’re in Montreal, and that’s probably the most valuable information in all of Hell right now. He already sold it to Valefor, and he’ll sell it to someone else now that we killed Val. His asking price for silence is going to be high.”
With that optimistic proclamation, Ash sipped his coffee and dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling it back from his face. That jet-black, hip-length mane was his secret pride, and as a former lust demon, he would always be a little vain.
“What if we found something to bargain with?” Raum suddenly said, and everyone looked at him. Faust lifted his head off his lap. Even Meph and Iris stopped kissing for a second.
Raum wasn’t shy about speaking, but he tended to stay silent until he actually had something useful to say. Meph was already good at filling every possible silence with noise, and there was no need to compete.
“If we find something he wants and take it first, then he’ll have to bargain on our terms.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Bel asked. “Like Asmodeus so helpfully stated, if he thinks we’re trying to fuck him over, he’s going to fuck us back. Hard.”
“Kinky,” Meph said.
“Shut up, Meph,” everyone said simultaneously.
Except Iris, of course. She just laughed and patted his leg like he was adorable and not annoying. The poor witch had really lost her marbles since they’d started dating.
But then she stiffened suddenly and said, “The book.”
There was confused silence.
“Suyin’s book, The Book of Gamigin . Murmur had Valefor steal it for him, remember?”
Suyin, the leader of Iris’s coven, still wasn’t aware that Iris consorted with demons, but ever since the grimoire had been stolen, she’d been on high alert.
“That was Murmur’s price for giving Val our location so he could go after Meph,” Iris reminded them. “Whatever that book is, it’s important to Murmur.”
“I knew who Gamigin was,” Ash said, sipping his coffee, “but I never heard of him writing a book. Demons aren’t exactly known for their literary endeavors.”
Raum snorted into his espresso cup. Speaking every language was just an innate part of a demon’s nature. If reading and writing required any effort for them to learn, he was pretty sure all of Hell would be illiterate.
“I don’t know if he wrote it,” Iris replied. “Maybe it’s just named after him.”
“Pretty sure he’s dead,” Bel said, “so you won’t be able to ask him.”
“I still don’t get why Murmur wants it,” Meph said.
“Let’s steal it,” Raum blurted.
Once again, everyone stared at him. This time, he knew it was because he couldn’t keep the anticipation out of his voice.
He cleared his throat and tried to pretend he hadn’t reacted as he had, but Meph knew him too well. The bastard started to grin. “You would get a boner at that, wouldn’t you?”
Raum shot him a glare.
He didn’t like to talk about his addiction. It wasn’t even an addiction. It was just a mild itching that lived under his skin that grew into unbearable burning, crawling torment if he didn’t assuage its need from time to time.
So what if he had a stash of stolen goods in his closet so large he could no longer risk opening the doors? So what if no matter how often he fed the urge, it was never satisfied?
He could control himself. He could .
He’d once lived in constant war with other demons over territories he didn’t want, simply so he could raid their lairs for treasure like a fiendish dragon. He’d kept stashes of loot all across Hell in secret locations.
But he’d risen above that now. He was in control. The insatiable need no longer ruled him.
Yet he couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of stealing Murmur’s grimoire.
Until Belial said, “No.”
“Why not?” Meph jumped to Raum’s defense. “We know Murmur wants it. If we steal it, he’ll have no choice but to bargain with us to get it back.”
“It’s too risky.”
“And straight-up murdering him isn’t?”
Bel’s jaw shifted. “It’s simpler. Less complications. That’s how I like to do things.”
“You’re being obtuse,” Meph said.
“You’re so obtuse, I didn’t realize you even knew such a big word,” Bel retorted.
Ash looked at Raum. “Bel’s right. Way too much could go wrong, and once again, we risk Murmur getting wind of it and turning on us.
Not to mention, you seem to forget that Bel is supposed to meet with him tonight .
We can’t pull off that big a heist in so little time, and if we try to reschedule it’ll look suspicious. ”
Raum made a sound of frustration. “But—”
“We’re not stealing the book.” Bel pinned him with a sharp look. “End of story.”
And that was that.