Malum whimpered.
Orion reached for me, and I skirted around him pointedly, then slammed the bathroom door closed behind me. Malum bellowed on the other side.
“Why do you keep antagonizing him?” Vegar asked, and Zenith shot him a glare like he wasn’t supposed to speak to me.
They were sitting on the floor playing a card game, and the twins were asleep in their beds.
I shrugged. “Because he deserves it.”
The demons nodded like my answer was acceptable and said, “Good work.”
I saluted them and climbed into my bunk.
Sleep claimed me quickly.
That night, I dreamed of a handsome, blind devil with a voice like sin, whose nails dug into my skin as he ravished me. He whispered huskily in my ear and promised to kill for me.
In my dream, I thanked him.
Chapter 25
Aran
WAR
Amok (adjective): possessed with or motivated by a murderous or violently uncontrollable frenzy.
DAY 14, HOUR 7
Last night, the scouting angels had returned with the coordinates for another ungodly settlement.
Today, we went to war.
Snow fell in thick chunks as we marched through the quiet forest.
“I’m going to steal Scorpius and Orion from you,” I whispered to Malum, just to terrorize him.
He scoffed beside me. “Please, we both know any relationship with them means you’re one step closer to being mine.”
“You’re delusional,” I whispered as I discreetly inhaled his tobacco whiskey scent.
A vein pulsed on his forehead.
He leaned down, and his breath was hot against my ear. “Stop pretending with the twins. It’s pathetic—we both know you belong to me.”
My hands curled into fists. “That’s my future husbands you’re talking about.” He was so high-handed that it was infuriating.
Flames whooshed as they jumped off his arms. “Stop fucking saying that,” he said darkly. “They will never have that title.”
I rolled my pipe between my lips. “Are you sure about that?” I drawled.
His jaw clenched. “Yes.”
I shivered as the storm picked up. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” I whispered. The twins walked in front of me and formed a protective wall. Darkness shimmered around them.
Malum’s voice was rough like broken glass. “I would.”
I narrowed my eyes at the twins’ darkness. It seemed to form a shape on their heads, but I couldn’t discern the object.
“What would you bet?” I asked mindlessly.
Malum answered immediately, “My soul.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence.
I unraveled at the seams.
The battle raged.
The world devolved into shades of black and pain.
Smoke.
Screams.
Pleas.
Women and men bellowed as we murdered them.
A bear shifter roared, and the sound reverberated menacingly down the dark corridor.
Demons swung swords made of nightmares.
Crystal wings clattered as the angels hovered along the ceiling and struck from above.
Pincers slashed desperately. Hands grabbed helplessly.
An enchanted blade sliced through an ungodly carapace.
Red poured from flesh.
Green gore splattered.
This settlement was like the last. It was a maze of dark, twisting corridors, false walls, and sprawling rooms where the battles spilled into.
These infected also had enchanted swords. Little good it did them.
We hunted them through the halls.
The Necklace of Death pulsed with energy against my chest bone like a heartbeat.
I tripped as a body slammed against me.
John grabbed my arm and pulled me off the wall that I didn’t remember leaning against.
“Focus, Arabella!” Malum shouted harshly. “Don’t you dare lose us again.”
I fought numbly.
Jinx’s voice garbled in the back of my skull.
The twins flanked my front, and the kings flanked my back.
I spun and thrust, dodged a flying projectile, stabbed, decapitated, slaughtered. I did it all and felt nothing.
Time warped around me.
It was quiet.
My chest heaved from exertion. I was drenched with sweat and covered in disturbing substances.
The battle was over.
“Do you need help standing?” Scorpius asked.
“No.” My voice was hoarse, and my lungs ached like I’d run for miles.
Sadie limped over and patted my back.
“Good work,” Malum announced to the soldiers. “Let’s stay together, exit the structure, and convene with our troops on the perimeters to make sure no ungodly escaped.”
I blinked, and I was laying in my bunk.
A sheen of ice covered me, and I couldn’t move.
I was frozen.
Part Three
Eccedentesiast
“Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?”
―Nietzsche
Chapter 26
Aran
FUNERALS
Sepulchre (noun): a place of burial; tomb.
DAY 18, HOUR 19
The funeral processed in the war camp’s forest.
An enchanted camera flashed.
A line of witches stood off to the side and hummed a dark melody. Runes glowed on their skin. The ban on silence was temporarily lifted because an expensive timed enchantment had created a sound boundary.
Dick, Lothaire, and the cloaked man stood off to the side and watched with solemn faces.
Lyla performed the ceremony a few feet in front of us.
The rest of the soldiers stood apart.
Up close, the runes on Lyla’s skin shone with a much brighter light than the runes on the other witches. Lyla practically glowed like a star, while the rest were muted. She pulsed with power.
The left side of my face prickled under the weight of Lothaire’s attention. Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t watching Lyla perform the ceremony.
His jagged scar pulled tight as he frowned.
He stared at me.
“Keep up the good work,” he mouthed silently.
I nodded back and tried to appear stronger than I was.
The witches hummed louder, their voices dropping to an eerily deep octave that no other creature could replicate.
Lyla spun a ball of energy between her hands.
The glow emanating off her intensified.
The High Court had returned to help us mourn. At least, that was the excuse they’d given when they RJE’d into the camp after we’d given our progress update on the last battle.
Sharp light blinded my corneas as another camera flashed.
They’d brought journalists with them from across the realms.
The funeral was a PR stunt.
Branches clattered in the frozen wind.
An enchanted broadcasting stone hovered high above our heads. Dick stooped like he was overcome with grief.
My stomach churned at his fake display.
He didn’t care about soldiers.
The High Court only cared about themselves. They cared about their image and how the public perceived them.
The witches hummed. A camera shuttered and dots danced in my vision.
Snow fell softly, and the steaming dirt created the illusion of fog. The setting sun cast the pines in ominous shadows.
Lyla waved her arms and spun. Her green hair defied gravity as it lifted around her head, and the energy of the universe strummed around her in a display meant to inspire the viewers across the realms.