After all, it was hard to miss a dragon the size of a mountain. And there was the ledge with the cavern, where we’d been living like outcasts…
I dropped to the ledge and lowered the body to the ground. There was so little time before Satan woke, and while I was free, I had too many things to do and not enough time to achieve them all.
I strode into the cavern, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness.
It was shallow, barely a shelter against the endlessly falling ash, and a small figure huddled in the farthest corner.
We’d found an ancient body in the cavern, one of Azazel’s long-missing Reapers. The black robes had been wrapped around a skeleton that had nearly turned to powder when I touched it, but Vyra kept them tightly wrapped around herself now, more of a security blanket than a real shield.
The Reaper’s scythe was buried in the wall point-first, and she had curled up behind the long handle hanging in midair, like it might afford her some protection. The skeletal remains were on her other side, half a skull and reaching arms all that were left of the unfortunate Grigori.
Her pale face peered out from under the Reaper’s hood, rosy eyes gleaming hard and cold in a way I’d never seen from her before.
Vyra set her lips, staring at me warily.
For a second, I frantically searched my memories. I hadn’t hurt her, had I? I hadn’t… done anything else?
But no. No memories of brutalizing Vyra surfaced. I’d tossed her into the cavern- roughly, it was true- but I hadn’t beaten her, cut her, or violated her.
I knelt down in front of her. If I got a boot to the face, well… I probably deserved it. “Vyra, it’s me.”
She gave me a narrow-eyed look. “Obviously. You’re all I’ve seen for-” Then she stopped, her mouth dropping open before she snapped it shut. “Lucifer?”
There was so much hope and disbelief in that whisper, it broke my heart.
“I don’t have much time.” I searched around for the supplies I knew we kept in there and pressed a skin of water in Vyra’s hands. She fumbled the lid open; her lips were chapped, and there were already hollows under her cheekbones. We hadn’t been feeding her enough. While in Satan’s grip, I doubted I cared all that much.
She chugged the water and handed me the bottle, tucking her hands back inside the robes. “Can’t you run now?” she asked, still whispering as though Satan might hear. “Go while you’re free.”
“I’m not leaving you here. And even if I did, I wouldn’t get far. The soul-bond would just call me back.” I looked into her face. It was my fault she was here. She deserved to lay all the blame at my feet. “But Vyra, if you have the chance to go, take it.”
She let out a soft snort. “Lucifer, when you’re acting on his orders, it’s like you’ve got eyes in the back of your head. I already tried to escape.”
Ah, there was the memory. Dragging Vyra back into the cavern while she screamed at me, railing against me uselessly with her fists.
The tear stains from her frustration were still written on her cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” The words were useless, but there was nothing I could do. She would die if she stayed, but she’d never been a strong flier. If I pushed her out into the sky now, she’d make it maybe a few miles before needing to stop… and in the vast stretch of the Irkallan wilderness, there would be no cover or shelter for her. Something would hunt her down.
She shook her head. “I just keep telling myself it could be worse.”
It was amazing she could hold onto any optimism at all right now. It was as bad as it was going to get for her.
Because Satan wasn’t going to be satisfied with the mangled body I’d brought for him. He’d eventually demand a new one, a whole, fresh, still-living one… and the odds that his grip on the soul-bond would be loosened when I found that new body were minuscule. One of these days he’d get his hands on an intact body to possess, and he’d be able to do every depraved thing he could dream of to Vyra.
It might be more merciful to kill her now.
I briefly contemplated how fast I could make it happen. All I had to do was reach out and twist her head around, and it’d be over. Nothing could hurt her anymore.
Somehow, I couldn’t make my hands move, even while knowing it was the greatest kindness I could give her now. Possibly the only kindness.
“Vyra.” She looked up at me, her eyes empty. “Do I ever sleep?”
Vyra shook her head silently.
I cursed under my breath. I would’ve slipped her a knife, told her to cut my throat while I slept.
“I know what you’re thinking, Lucifer.” She leaned her head back against the stone wall of the cavern. “I don’t know if I could do it.”
“You could. If your life depended on it.”
Not only her life, but mine. My freedom. I’d rather be dead than serving my Father like this, and yet… it was impossible to do the deed myself. Not while I held onto some small thread of hope that Melisande was out there.
It was entirely selfish, I knew. Selfish of me for wanting to stay alive for her when I was nothing but a danger to them all. I’d almost killed her once, and I couldn’t bring myself to do the honorable thing.
“We’ll get through this,” she said quietly.
I laughed bitterly. Just do it now, Lucifer. End it before she actually has a reason to beg for a quick death.
I was still laughing when she drew in a sharp breath. “Lucifer…”
There was no need for her to tell me what the problem was. I already felt it.
It started as a prickling on my skin, like thousands of tiny needles driving into my flesh over and over. My dark tattoos were beginning to lighten, the black giving way to scarlet.
Satan was awakening, and his mind was clamping down on mine.
“Do what you have to,” I hissed at Vyra, and got to my feet, striding quickly from the cavern. The farther I was from her when I lost myself again, the better.
The pain was growing, driving from my limbs and into my chest, a vise-like pressure squeezing around me and stopping my heart.
The Dragon stirred in the chasm. Enormous scales flaked away, peeled from his skin by the sharp rocks of the mountainside.
I had minutes. Maybe seconds. For a brief, desperate moment, I reached out to Melisande through the bond, hoping she was there.
There was a brief spark of light on the other end, and then the pain ate everything, washing away all trace of my mate.
“Did you bring it for me?” My father’s voice was like thunder, echoing into the sky.
I nudged the corpse with the toe of my boot. “Here.”
One of the Dragon’s heads rose above the abyss. It blinked at the body, and sneered at me, baring sharp fangs. “It is imperfect.”
“It’s the best you’ll get for now.” I drew a breath into tight lungs, barely able to stay upright, clinging to the last vestige of myself with everything I had.
“Then release me from this shell.”
Satan reared up, sending boulders crumbling down into the chasm. I picked up my spear from where it leaned against a rock and spread my wings.
The flight was agonizing, ripping through every feather and pore. I hefted the spearpoint and plunged downwards, ripping a gash through the Dragon’s chest that would’ve killed any other demon, but on him… it was barely a pinprick.