Chapter 41
SIMONE
Lana enters our dining room first, her auburn hair bouncing around her freckled shoulders. She's followed by Ashtaroth, who moves with an unnerving grace that still makes me nervous, despite interacting with him a few times now.
“Where's my nephew?” Lana demands, scanning the room like Leander might be hiding under the table.
“Napping,” I reply, gesturing toward the bassinet we've moved into the corner. “He should wake up soon, though. Perfect timing for dinner.”
Az stands to greet his brother and sister-in-law, slapping the older archdemon's shoulder, much to the latter's consternation.
We're just settling around the table, admiring the spread Forneus has prepared for us—roasted duck with cherry sauce, a delicate fish that definitely didn't come from Hell's rivers, and vegetables that look too fresh to come from the Underworld either—when the air in the room shifts.
“Damn it,” Az mutters, his shoulders tensing.
I don't need to ask who it is. There's only one being whose presence feels like standing too close to the sun.
Sataniel strolls into our dining room like he owns it—which, technically, I guess he does. His hands are casually tucked into his front pant pockets, an expression of mild amusement on his perfect, angelically beautiful face.
“Asmodai,” he greets, his voice like silk over steel. “Ashtaroth. And the lovely ladies, of course.”
Lana's fork clatters against her plate. I'm not sure I want to know what kind of encounters my former team leader had with the Devil.
“My Prince,” Az says carefully, rising from his seat. “To what do we owe this... honor?”
Sataniel's diamond eyes sparkle with mischief. “I can't drop by to congratulate new parents? I heard the birth was quite dramatic.” His gaze slides to me, and I resist the urge to shrink in my chair.
“My son is sleeping,” Az says, his tone carefully neutral.
“Oh, I'm not here to disturb the little prince,” Sataniel waves dismissively. “Though I do hope to meet him properly soon.” He turns that unsettling attention back to Az. “But I have to admit I'm feeling quite... neglected. You never invite me over for dinner.”
You could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows.
“Our apologies, Master,” Ashtaroth says smoothly. “We did not know you desired to be included. We will happily correct the oversight in the future.”
“Wonderful.” Sataniel's smile doesn't reach his eyes. “But that's not the only reason I'm here.”
From the bassinet comes a soft sound—Leander stirring. My maternal instincts kick in immediately, and I start to rise, but Sataniel's gaze pins me in place.
“Stay seated, my dear. I'm sure the little one will settle.”
It's not a request.
“As I was saying.” Sataniel begins pacing around our table like a predator circling prey. “I was surprised to feel my daughter-in-law's presence, Ashtaroth.”
Ashtaroth goes very still. “My Prince?”
“You see, I had asked you to arrange a meeting with Nephithar's lovely angelic consort some time ago.” He pauses deliberately. “Yet somehow, she made it to Hell and back without coming to me.”
“The circumstances were extraordinary—” Az begins.
“Were they?” Sataniel stops pacing and faces Ashtaroth directly. “Because from where I stand, it looks like she came running the moment you called.”
Lana looks between the two archdemons and the Devil, her face pale but determined. “She came to help save Simone and the baby. That's all.”
“Ah, the fierce little mortal speaks.” Sataniel's attention shifts to her, and I see Ashtaroth's hands clench into fists. “You always were… refreshing.”
Leander's soft sounds grow more insistent. I can't help myself—I look toward the bassinet, every instinct screaming at me to go to my child.
“Ashtaroth,” Sataniel continues, still looking at Lana with those unsettling diamond eyes, “you will arrange that meeting. Soon. Or I might begin to question where your loyalties lie.”
“Of course, My Prince,” Ashtaroth replies evenly. “I will see that it's arranged.”
“Excellent.” Sataniel straightens, smoothing down his perfectly pressed shirt. “Then I wish you a lovely remainder of the evening.”
With that, he disappears, only leaving behind a miasma of power.
I stand up so fast my chair almost tips over, rushing to Leander's side. Even though he's not crying, I can't help myself—I need to hold him in my arms, reassure myself that he's safe.
No one says anything as I cradle my baby against my chest, struggling to calm my racing heart.
“It's alright, little fairy,” Az says. “Come here.”
He reaches for me as soon as I get close enough. Maybe he's reassuring himself I'm fine too.
“That was weird,” Lana says, a frown on her face. “Wasn't it?”
Come to think of it…
“He didn't even look at Leander,” I murmur.
“What's that?” Az asks gently.
“When we were in the Pits, he kept saying he had an interest in our baby, right?” I carry on, settling down at the table again with Leander in my arms. “But he didn't even look at him now. All he cared about was Syrin.”
“What are you thinking, Simone?” Ashtaroth asks, those unfathomable eyes fixed on me.
I roll my lips together, rocking Leander as I gather my thoughts.
“I'm thinking that he doesn't care about our offspring at all. Or… or maybe he doesn't care if they're boys.”
Lana cringes. “I don't like where this is going.”
“What if he knew?” I continue. “What if he knew our baby was going to be a boy and he… and he only wanted Az and me to do the soul bargain so that I stay alive for the birth. Long enough for Syrin to come to Hell.”
“It's a leap,” Az says, not unkind. His hand rests on my shoulder, his thumb gently stroking the skin exposed by my sleeveless dress.
“It is plausible.” We all look at Ashtaroth. “He told me he wishes to speak to Syriniana about an ancient prophecy. And he certainly does care about our offspring. At least some of it. I believe you are correct in your assumptions, Simone.”
“He needs a daughter from one of us…” Lana swallows hard. “He thinks it has something to do with a prophecy.”
Ashtaroth takes her hand in his, surprising me with the display of affection. “Whether it is our child he needs, or Asmodai's, we will not let him use her.”
“But what can you do?” I breathe, struggling to raise my voice. What if he's somehow still listening?
Az squeezes my shoulder, drawing my gaze. “We will defy the Dark Prince or the Council or anyone who stands between us and protecting what we love.”
Leander makes a cooing sound, and I subconsciously adjust him in my arms.
“Yes,” I say, louder now, like I'm drawing strength from my baby. “We won't let him or anyone else hurt our children.”
“I'll drink to that,” Lana says, raising her wine glass.
I give her a shaky smile. “So will I. If I ever stop breastfeeding. With how potent my man is, I'll likely be a teetotaler for a very long time.”
Even Ashtaroth cracks a small smile at my joke.
“The food is getting cold,” Az murmurs, squeezing my shoulder one last time before picking up his utensils.
I nod, standing up to return a dozing Leander back to the bassinet. Whatever the future will bring, right now we have to keep living.