Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fender
We stood in Warrick and Willow’s quarters, watching while War cursed and stabbed at the laptop sitting on the table. He wasn’t much for technology, none of us were.
“So, the Wraiths of Destruction,” War said, still distracted.
“It seems only one can run around fucking things up at a time. So at least there’s no chance of Mayhem or Annihilation joining in on Disease’s party.
They share one physical form, or whatever vessel they snatch from some poor fuck.
The lesser god who created them made it so they can choose who’s in control, which is how they managed to have a thing with the priestesses, but when it comes to end of times, no matter who is in the driver’s seat, they have to wreak their havoc in order.
Disease, followed by Mayhem, then, well, Annihilation, obviously.
That last fucker we do not want running free. If he gets out, shit is going to burn.”
“Can they be killed?”
“Not all at once, unfortunately. Again, it can only happen in order. If these weapons are as good as we think they are, they could kill Disease, but doing that could cause more problems. Taking out Disease means casting the other two from their vessel, and giving Mayhem the green light to go snatch a fresh body for him and his remaining brother, then start tearing shit up.”
“What other options do we have?” Tempest asked.
“If we can stop Disease without killing him, then all of this ends. Lucifer’s looking into it. If there’s a way to do it, he’ll let us know.” Warrick scowled at the laptop and stabbed at it again. “What the fuck is wrong with this thing?”
“Can I help?” Tempest asked.
War turned to her and relief washed over his face. “You know how to use Vidscape?”
“We use it at the clinic. Do you have your password?”
He handed her a piece of paper with his email and password scrawled on it, then stood back and let her sort it out.
Fuck, I’d missed her. For three days straight she’d been working her ass off at that clinic, trying to save her patients.
Wills had been worried sick about Iris and her family, and Magnolia had acted so weird when I’d asked her about Tempest, like she was pissed for some reason, but she’d refused to tell me why.
I was getting sick of all the secrets. My female was strong, I was positive of it, but she was also fragile in a lot of ways.
What we had was tenuous. I would never give up on her, but she wasn’t where I was in this relationship, or at least she wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself.
If I gave her the slightest reason to bolt, she would.
I knew her connection to me had grown, because I felt it.
I knew mine to her had as well, because I hadn’t been able to sleep without her.
I’d literally been able to feel just how exhausted she’d been.
Her distress had been like a beacon sending out an SOS directed right at me, and I couldn’t stay away any longer.
My little female had craved comfort, and I’d stopped fighting it and sought her out.
Dragging in a harsh breath, I worked at cooling my blood.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d rubbed up on me to get herself off, or the way she’d looked sitting up there on top of me, chasing her release.
It was imprinted on my brain, and although it seemed impossible, I wanted her even more than I had before.
“We’re logged in. Was someone sending a link to join their chat?” Tempest asked.
“Fuck if I know,” War said, looking frustrated.
“Oh, here it is, in your email. A Vidscape invitation to join someone named Guardian666.”
“Guardian? Who’s that?” I asked War.
“Garan. Lucifer organized it.”
I frowned. “How?
War shrugged. “Garan’s on his own down there, well, besides Tregan, and I can’t imagine that terrifying fucker is great company. Lucifer gave him a phone and a laptop so he has a way to contact others.”
Tempest turned to me. “They have Wi-Fi in Hell?”
I grinned at the look on her face. “Yeah, and cell service.”
“How do we get this call going?” War asked her.
She clicked the link, and a gray window appeared on the screen, a little blue circle spinning as it connected. A moment later, the screen turned black.
No, it was just darker on Garan’s end. Something moved on the screen.
Garan, he’d stepped back. The black had been his cloak.
He stood in front of us, his face obscured by a hood.
And now that he was no longer filling the entire screen, we could see an orange-yellow glow from hellfire flickering behind him against a stone wall.
The cloak hung open, revealing his red skin and stomach roped with muscle.
He wore dark pants, and a knife, roughly two feet long with a curved blade, was strapped to his waist with a thick leather belt.
“Garan,” War said. “Thank you for agreeing to talk with us.”
He made a deep sound that was either a growl or a grunt. “Lucifer asked it of me.”
Tempest jumped at the harshness of his voice.
“We have a couple questions—”
“Who does the female belong to?” he asked, leaning forward. His face was still concealed by his hood, but he could obviously see through it.
He’d seen Tempest well enough. I slid my hand up her back and curled my fingers around the nape of her neck. “She’s mine,” I said, my voice laced with all the dominance and menace I could muster.
Tempest stiffened, and I massaged her neck, hoping she’d understand why I’d said it. Yes, it was true, she was mine, but she didn’t know that. She’d convinced herself we weren’t serious, that anything more was out of the question.
Garan grunted again. “Ask your questions.”
“We’re looking for weapons, specifically weapons forged in Tregan’s fire. They’ve been concealed,” I said. “This is a long shot, but we wanted to know if there’s any way you could track them from where you are?”
“I have forged many weapons since my banishment.” He leaned in again. “Why don’t you come here and I’ll make you some.” The hood slipped back, revealing his square chin and mouth. Garan smiled. “Bring your female with you.”
Garan had been banished thousands of years ago for one simple reason: he enjoyed murder far too much.
As one of Lucifer’s earlier creations, he was special to our king, but he also quickly became a liability, killing indiscriminately.
Lucifer didn’t have the heart to put him down, so he banished him to the deepest pits of Hell to watch over Tregan.
“It would take us too long to journey to you, Garan,” War said. “We believe the weapons are here, above ground, and much easier for us to acquire. Time is of the essence in this situation.”
He laughed, a deep grating sound. “Do I smell fear, alpha of the hellhounds?”
War jerked forward, planting his hands on the table with a snarl. “I fear nothing, demon. Definitely not you. You have been ordered by your king to give us this information. Does this refusal mean you have chosen to defy him?”
Tempest had pressed back against me, and she was trembling. I slid my arm around her, holding her to my side. “It’s okay,” I said low, for her ears only.
She nodded but stayed where she was.
Garan stared back, well, I assumed he was since only his mouth was visible.
The massive demon grinned. “It is possible to get the information you want, but I want something in return.”
“What is it you want?” Warrick said.
His head tilted to the side. “Is your female a witch?” he asked, and by the way his chin had angled, he was talking to me.
“You need to stop worrying about my female and focus on what we need,” I said, then moved her out of screenshot.
He ignored me. “Only your female can get me what I want.”
“And what’s that?” I said through gritted teeth. If I could reach through the screen, I’d fucking wrap my hands around his huge red throat.
“A potion.”
I hadn’t expected that.
Tempest stepped forward, and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close to me.
It didn’t matter that Garan couldn’t touch her, or that he was so deep in Hell that it would take a month or more to journey out even if he could leave.
I was a male standing beside his female, his mate, and another male was taking an interest in her.
I had no control over the possessiveness pumping through me.
“What kind of potion?” she asked.
Garan didn’t answer, his Adam’s apple slid up and down his thick throat, and his square jaw tightened as his lips pressed into a thin line.
Was Garan, a demon thousands of years old, guardian of Tregan, the most terrifying creature in Hell, and vicious mass murderer…embarrassed?
Tempest stepped away from me, and I barely resisted snatching her back as she stepped up to the screen, blocking War and me out of the frame, attempting to make him feel as if it were just the two of them.
I choked down my growl but stepped forward, unable to stay back.
War grabbed my shoulder and shook his head.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he was my alpha…
and he was also right. We needed to make this deal, and Tempest was safe.
He couldn’t reach her. Every muscle in me tightened as I stepped back, though, and I curled my fingers into fists as I fought for control.
War squeezed my shoulder and dipped his chin.
A silent, you got this. And I’ve been there in his gaze.
I blew out a slow breath. It didn’t help, but I managed to stay put and not snatch her away from the computer.
“What kind of potion do you require, Garan?” she asked again, and this time her tone was kind, almost cajoling, but there was a softness to it that lifted goose bumps on my arms and made my stomach tighten.
“Does my appearance frighten you, female?”
She was silent a beat. “No, not really,” she said. “But you are intimidating, Garan, especially when you conceal your face like that, something you must know if you’re asking me that question.”
“Yes,” he said.
War looked at me and his brows slid higher. “What the fuck?” he mouthed.