God help me.
A small alcove at the top of the temple offered concealment and a vantage point. He gathered his strength, corralled his focus and shimmered to the top of the steps, to the entrance of the alcove. A plasma ball exploded near his shoulder, spraying him with razor sharp shards of rock, slicing fresh wounds into his flesh. Dust plumed in the air. Gideon darted into the alcove. His chest heaved as his gaze whipped around the room. The chamber was large, an altar placed dead center in the room.
Power radiated from the base of the massive stones, throbbing in the air. Hope all but choked him, surging wild and greedy. He was so close, the thrum of the amulet’s energy vibrated in his very bones. His hands shook with excitement. This was it. It had to be. The answer to his prayers lay only a few feet away. With the sacrifice of his blood, with the incantation—please, God, let me have translated everything correctly—the amulet would allow him to touch others once again, let him be touched after an eternity without the simple intimacy of contact.
Gideon took a step forward, his sole focus the massive stone slab atop the altar. He began reading the carvings aloud, searching for the correct stone, the right marker. The air in the corner began to waver and he read faster. Words, phrases jumped out at him. Yes. Yes this is it. This is what I’ve been searching for. Determination shot through Gideon like a river of lava, molten and unstoppable. He would not be thwarted in this. He would not yield.
He felt the stirrings of the monster within and fought to keep control. He could not morph. Not now. Mindless, unbiased destruction would not benefit him. Quite the opposite. In his demonic form, he might be just as likely to destroy that which he desired most and not even realize it until it was too late. It was just too much of a gamble.
No, he would not morph.
And he would not fail.
A demon solidified in the corner.
Mortika?!
One of Lucifer’s cruelest soldiers, the Captain of the Prison Guard for Lucifer’s personal dungeon, stood before Gideon in all his demonic glory. Massive body, grotesquely deformed face, bald head and pointed ears. His flesh was gray, pockmarked and lumpy. Gideon could smell his putrid breath from this distance. The scent of death and decay. Gideon pushed down the urge to morph, mindful of his resolve to remain in control of the beast within.
He was fighting a losing battle.
Gideon had never had a personal bone to pick with this particular demon, no axe to grind, no grudge held. But the Captain of the Guard, Gideon knew, had always seen things differently. He’d resented Gideon’s rise through the ranks of Lucifer’s army. He’d watched Gideon with a jaded eye, waiting for the moment the Demon of Temptation slipped and fell from favor, like a vulture waiting for a wounded animal to stop kicking before it moved in to pick the bones clean. Mortika?’s mere presence threatened everything Gideon had been trying to accomplish. Fury flooded his veins.
“I know what you seek, Temptation,” Mortika? sneered in the ancient Demonic language, his voice deep and layered. Plasma balls hovered over the open palms of his massive hands.
No!
How had he found out? How had he learned of the amulet? Gideon had been so careful in his inquiries, covering his tracks, and, yes, even killing a few demons that’d asked too many questions or seemed to take a little too much interest in his business.
“How accommodating of you to meet me, then, to offer yourself up for my blade,” Gideon taunted, careful to keep his mind off the object of his deepest desires. Though he had no proof, he’d heard rumors Mortika? could read minds, rather like Sebastian had been able to decipher a being’s deepest desires before the Great Fall. “And that’s former Demon of Temptation, by the way.”
“Ah, yes. You are of the Fallen now.” Mortika? spat on the floor, punctuating his disgust. The droplets of spittle sizzled and bubbled like acid on the aged rock. Gideon considered his best plan of attack. Mortika? had few weaknesses. Having become his unwilling target, Gideon had made sure to catalog them all. Something he’d willingly take advantage of in the ensuing battle.
“Such a pity. Heaven won’t take you back, and all of Hell is out to kill you,” Mortika? mused with mock sympathy. “Did you know the Dark Prince raised the bounty on you and your legion of traitors yet again? Still not worth quite as much as the Slayer or the Seer, but you’ll bring a hefty sum all the same.”
“Too bad you won’t be collecting,” Gideon taunted. “You know, being dead and all.”
“Such a waste, Temptation. You were as a god. Now you are nothing. Less than nothing, so pitiful you must rely on legend and human magics to fix yourself.”