Chapter 6 Get Out of Here
Get Out of Here
Oriel
“Idon’t like this,” I grumble as we watch KK follow the odd little twerp into his tent.
Jasper gives me a knowing look, but replies, “O, you never like seers or soothsayers or prophets or—”
“Because they’re either fake, which means their goal is to steal from us, or they’re real, which means they are messing with the future,” I shoot back as I cross my arms over my chest. “My line is greedy, but there’s a limit to what acquisitions are not worth the risk.”
Zav coughs. “Not for some of them.”
Well, isn’t he feeling his tails today.
“I know that many well-known cautionary tales used by humans and supes alike were actually demons from Greed, Zav. However, as time has passed, all of our family heritage has gotten smarter about limitations. Or, at least since our folks grabbed the throne.”
Slash arches a brow at me. “You’re saying our parents have tempered the extreme ends of their family lineage? I doubt that.”
A small, thin acolyte in a billowy robe of red stops the conversation.
I can’t see his face, only a hooked nose, so I assume he must be a hybrid Fae—they have a lot of gnarly little idgits in their less conventionally attractive species.
The being interrupts with a scoff before I can reply and that alone makes me want to throttle him.
“The soldier is right—naught has changed but the setting, young Duke. However, Rakshasa will take him to read, then construct our bargain.”
Jasper opens his mouth to protest, but like our favorite unemerged demon, Slash shakes his head. He looks down at the smaller acolyte with a toothy smirk. “I will join you, seer, but know that any shenanigans will lead to consumption.”
“Y-yes,” the now shaky hybrid says as his hood trembles. “Join me in the larger tent.”
I watch them walk away, the growing sense of distrust in my gut making me huff.
My crow is not fond of things I cannot swipe and no one can actually steal knowledge from a species with crystal ball powers.
It’s probably why I dislike them, but I’m sure there’s some natural distrust of those I deem as fellow thieves who are too crooked to admit their gambits.
It’s complicated, but I don’t have to explain it to anyone.
“Oriel, you’re fluffing up,” Salem says as he grins at me. “You’ve got feathers flying from your hair, man.”
Shit, my bird is really pissed at this.
“Sorry,” I mumble as I pat down my head. “I’ll get it under control.”
Xerxes looks at me pointedly as they click their tongue. “Everyone has buttons, Oriel. Obviously, this is one of yours, and well… no one is excited about KK being in that tent with the bald guy.”
That makes Jasper growl with a hint of his dragon and we all turn to look at the Prince. His face is like a storm cloud, and I decide not to poke that beast as originally planned. He huffs a few smoke rings as he looks between the two tents our friends are in, then goes back to gnashing his teeth.
“Danger zone,” Anton whispers as he moves closer to me. “Jas is not happy about those two being ensconced with acolytes outside of his control.”
“Hello, young demons,” a voice interrupts. “Batar is here to read the fiery fox. Please follow her to her abode.”
Zavida looks worried until he sees the very short, rotund demon in a pink robe with fuzzy looking gray hair. This acolyte seems like an imp’s grandma, and though I’m sure she’s powerful, her visage doesn’t make our Kitsuné lose his shit. “Um, okay. Where is it?”
My inclination to snort is tempered by the puff of pink smoke that reveals a flowered tent next to the one Kit Kat went into.
It wasn’t there before… unless she was cloaking it.
I could see that, especially because this Batar chick seems like she’d be a Hello Kitty fan with what we can see of her tastes.
That’s not very intimidating for the entire group, so it fits that her ‘abode’ would be cloaked.
“Come with me, gentle one.”
Now our prince looks like he’s going to go flying off the ledge, and I walk over to him.
“Jasper, you gotta get a grip, man. This is probably on purpose. If they’re the real deal—which is doubtful—then they know enough to pick and choose how they run this little con game.
Your hot buttons are a good place to start. ”
“The shrimp stepped forward on his own.”
“Uh, of course he did. Do you think grifters can’t read body language and vibes and shit?” I sigh, shaking my head. “I know you and Slash deal with more… outwardly aggressive bad guys, but my duties often require finesse and subterfuge. I know those kinds of demons, man.”
Xerxes gives me a weird look, and I frown.
Why does he look like he wants to snicker?
I’m not lying to Jasper; I really have to read people a lot.
Turning to Anton, I notice he seems perfectly normal—albeit worried—but not smug like his lover.
The dichotomy irritates me, so I turn to Salem and note that he, too, looks a bit amused by my declarations.
What the fuck is with my brothers today?
“Regardless of your experience, Oriel, I dislike putting our brothers or our futures in the hands of unknowns. But I did not see another solution to wandering this wanna-be hellhole for longer than I prefer.” The Prince growls softly and crosses his arms over his chest as he struggles to push back his animal.
“And the reward may well outweigh the risks, but…”
His words trail off when Slash stomps out of the large tent with an annoyed look on his face. The hooked nosed Rakshasa is following the enforcer as he approaches us. “Jas, it is your turn to bear the burden of this turd’s company.”
I blink, biting my lip to keep from bursting into laughter. Slash’s description makes the hybrid tremble again, but I assume this time it’s from anger, not fear. “I guess it didn’t go so well, huh?”
“Come, leader of demons.”
Jasper looks furious as his eyes cut from me to Slash, then back to the hooded seer. “Fine. Then Slash is in charge while I’m inside. Do not take your eyes off the tents.”
Slash gives him a sharp nod, but he immediately focuses on the small tent where our newest member is still consulting with the chubby demon. “Understood.”
Hopefully, Jasper’s session doesn’t go worse than the big guy’s.
Jasper, like Kit, stays in his tent for what feels like forever.
By the time he comes out, the rest of us have followed the small female acolyte into her abode and come back out.
His jaw is tight as fuck as he stomps over to us, and I know he’s been holding himself back so he didn’t piss off Rakshasa.
The first thing he does is walk over to Zav and check in, then he turns to the rest of us with an assessing look.
“Have you gone? Where is the shrimp?”
I sigh, knowing this will not help. “Still with the bald dude.”
“Zaesil,” the female says with a decisive nod. “He is the elder of our group. His readings last much longer and he chooses those who have much to discuss. It is not surprising that we have finished with the rest of your group before he is done.”
That’s just fucking fabulous—the kid has enough shit to agonize over.
“When will they be done?” Salem asks as he paces behind me. “It’s been a very long time.”
Slash frowns as he eyes the tent. “I do not like this.”
Jasper comes over to glare down at Batar menacingly. “If any of you break the pacts that comprise our bargains, I will—”
“Now, now, young royal. We are not aligned with any players in schemes that can affect the cosmos.” Batar shakes her fluffy head as she chides him.
“We know far too much about too many things to tempt the wrath of those who are more powerful. The weavers would not allow us to remain if we did not comply with the ethos of their children.”
Anton’s head whips around when he hears her statement. He steps closer, studying the round demoness carefully. “I should hope not. There’s not a demon in Hell who would chance the three who hold the threads of reality for all the realms.”
“Indeed.” Rakshasa bobs his head, the hood moving with him. “Not a crown, nor a pauper, a human, nor a god, not even a magical ancestor, may cross their boundaries without fear. The songs and poems stretch across the divides between to warn those who might try to defy the core of the universe.”
Bullshit like this is why I despise all the oracle types; everything they say is so vague that no one can accurately understand what they mean—and it’s by design.
“Demons can always find a way around things,” I mutter as I run my hand through my hair.
My ‘prophecy’ wasn’t very impressive, but it wasn’t surprising, either.
For all of this fanfare, Batar decreed I have secret feelings for someone in the group, my line will have a major disruption that will force me to take action, and that I am headed for tough decisions in the coming competition.
All of those things were cloaked in a bunch of fancy fuckery and mystical mojo, but it’s the gist of her reading.
I offered nothing I couldn’t handle—I will receive a message to retrieve an object stolen from the acolytes a century ago.
It could be something ridiculous or something that I’ll have to bust my tail feathers to get my hands on, but once I realized she absolutely knows who the caliphate is, I couldn’t say no.
If the heir to Greed cannot find and return their object, it will reflect badly on the entire court.
She’s a crafty little shit, and I’m sure she used that with the others as well.
It makes me wonder what Rakshasa and the friar demon got out of the others.
I sense Batar is the least powerful of the three, despite looking the oldest in her humanoid form.
“They can if they are not practitioners of the divinatory arts,” Rakshasa says sternly. “We must adhere to the rules or we will lose our ability to access our gifts. You may verify that however you choose when you leave this place, but you will find we are being truthful.”
“Fine,” Jasper growls as he looks at the two demons. “I accept your words for now. When will your leader be finished with our brother?”
Now all of us are looking at the breakable acolytes with determined gazes. They don’t shrink back—I have to give them credit for bravery. The silence hangs for a few moments until, finally, Batar clears her throat nervously.
“Zaesil cannot be rushed. Your friend will be out when he is—”
The sound of footsteps pries our attention away from her and as Kit walks out of the tent, the tension among us lessens slightly.
He doesn’t appear to be harmed, nor having a complete freak out, but his shoulders are slumped as he moves toward us.
The demon he met steps out, his hand folded at his waist as he stands quietly.
“KK, are you okay?”
Salem and I move at the same time, ignoring Xerxes’s question as we rush over to our newest member to look him over.
The panda reaches down, tipping the kid’s chin up so he looks at him, then sighs in relief.
I circle him as Salem rubs the back of his neck, my eyes checking every inch I can see carefully.
“I’m okay, guys.”
Jasper’s eyes narrow, and I wonder if he’s finally going to admit he’s been worried. Instead, he points at the leader of the acolytes, his voice dark as he says, “If there’s one mark on my brothers, one scar in their psyche… you will regret the day you were summoned, seer. Know that.”
Kit looks surprised, but he murmurs softly to us. “Can we go back to Hell now? I’ve definitely had enough of this fucking place for a lifetime.”
“Little demon, it would be our pleasure to take you home.”
That’s when Dottie scrambles out of the bag again, perching on Kit’s shoulder as she pumps a tiny fist in victory.
I guess that’s her way of saying ‘there’s no place like home’.