I share a look with Nos as if to say, can I lock this prick up in my basement? I can already feel the darkness swirling unchecked in my brain from being away from Dawn. At least while she was here I could take it out on her and she helped keep it in check, but now it flows through me and I never know what it’s going to do next.
Nos sighs and sits down. “We need to get serious. We all know the council is behind this. I will do as you suggested as well as stay outside of the chambers of the council in case anything goes wrong with you. You find her and get her out, Griffin…”
“I hear a but coming,” I prompt, clenching my fingers into my palm to push back memories of the last time I lost someone to the council.
“But we need someone who can take the council down. Yes, we could kill them and then we would all be executed, including Dawn. If they are truly behind this, they aren’t doing it with sanction from the sleeping council. I suggest we involve them, let the councils fight between themselves and that is when we extract Dawn.”
“You know she’s going to want revenge. If you haven’t noticed, she’s a little bloodthirsty, our mate.” I grin, remembering her covered in blood and grinning at me. What a woman, and to think I tried to fight it, fight her.
“That comes after.” Nos nods.
“Then that is what I do,” the dragon adds, and we both look at him. “I know some witches I can trust, they will find the location of the sleeping council.”
“Which has been hidden for thousands of years,” I point out, but he ignores me.
“And instruct them on what is happening and make them come here to deal with their own council’s disobedience,” he finishes. “It will not be easy, but you’re right, if it is the council it is the only way to stop them.”
“It has been coming for a long time,” I mutter, and they both look at me. “Oh come on, we all know the council is corrupt and full of assholes. All they want is power, they don’t care how they get it. We wanna fuck the system, then let’s do it. I will be your biggest supporter.”
“Griffin!” he shouts, eyes flared in panic as they grab him. He fights them, but it’s no use, there are too many. From the smoke comes a man in a suit. “Run! Take her!” he screams helplessly, his eyes on me as I hesitate, and the man in the suit smirks.
“Grab that one, bring him to me, oh, and the female.”
“No!” I yell, grasping Gabriel’s fallen sword and rushing the man.
Pushing away the memories, I cut my palms with my nails, focusing on the flash of pain and my own blood to fight the madness, clinging to that little bit of sanity I have. “Are we doing this?” I look around at them both. “For her?”
The dragon lifts his head stubbornly. “Whatever it takes. They are nothing but old men sitting in chairs in their castle.”
Nos inclines his head. “If they have taken my little monster, they die. I will send word to those I have spoken to that we have a suspect for the disappearances and let them know to be ready. The council falling will cause uproar and a scramble for power. We need that sleeping council to stop an all-out war between the races.”
“War is always on the horizon.” The dragon sighs. “You are right, we can’t fight all the races though. We put the sleeping council in place before extracting our mate. Fallen, can you protect her in there?”
I grin then. “Have you ever met her? She doesn’t need my protection, they will need it from her.”
My resting place is sealed with the strongest magic on Earth to protect us from those who mean us harm. A last defence while we slumber. I can’t break it, so I simply bypass it.
“Sire?” comes a trembling voice, as the servant flattens himself onto the cold, stone floor where our sleeping bodies are housed and protected beyond anything else in this world. He must have been the one tasked with watching us on this day, ensuring our bodies remained secured and our surroundings cleaned. He lowers his face, unable to look at me as I float through the cracks and fill the room like black smoke. I know what he will see—nothing but bright red eyes flaring in the dark. A nightmare beyond anything this world is accustomed to.
And I am awake again.
“Sire?” he whispers, undoubtedly feeling my malice. “Y-You are not to be awake for another two hundred years.”
“I am aware,” I reply, my voice floating around the room, making him shiver and compress himself further.
“Sire, would you like me to fetch Master Xaph?” he inquires with a whimper.
Of course it is that winged bastard who is awake and in charge right now, the only one of us whom I hate. Not that we care for each other, we are simply together due to power and position, but that goddamned angel and I have always butted heads. Probably due to what we are, it is ingrained into us to detest one another. He will not take this lightly, he will see this as a slight against his power.
I sigh at the discussions that are to come, aching to race into the world and locate the female whose call awoke me, but this must come first.
“Go,” I order, and he scrambles up, still bowed and not looking at me he goes to fetch the angel.
I reform myself as I wait, holding out my arms to watch as they fade from black mist to a corporeal body. Cracking my neck, I confirm I am all there, my golden and black armour in place—another thing the angel hates about me. He thinks gold should be his colour and red mine.
I walk across the floor on bare feet, passing the burial areas where the others are still sleeping, and settle into the throne. Throwing one leg over the golden arm, I lean back and wait, preparing myself for the imminent argument.
I wonder idly what year it is. I keep up to date for the most part with the knowledge funnelled to us, but the last time I was truly awake and in charge, the Romans were in power. They were quite amusing, so much anger. I did like the Vikings best though, easily feeding from their battles. So much hate and rage, not to mention blood. I almost shiver at the memory of how much power I syphoned from them.
The angel felt otherwise, and where I tried to start wars, he attempted to stop them. You see, the world can be nothing without balance, just as an angel sits on this throne, so do I.
A demon, one of war and pain. Not just any demon.
The demon.
Most supernaturals are created through their bloodlines and reproducing, but I wasn’t. I was simply here one day when this world was first created. Called by the need for balance. I have walked through the ages, seen it all, always alone. Constantly feared, the very ground burning under my feet, and the stories of my power spread and were repeated, sometimes in different names.
My favourite is that of the ruler of the underworld. Though the pictures of me were eerily close sometimes—my own fault, I find amusement in scaring the humans of this world.
I go by many names.
Lucifer.
El Diablo.
Hell Spawn.
Evil.
The Snake.
What will she call me?
“Papa!” comes my little girl’s scream. I jerk up in bed. Antoinette is awake by my side and staring at me with fear in her dark brown eyes. Her curly brown hair is up in rollers and askew from sleep. Yanking away the covers, I grab my gun and stumble from our farmhouse in just my sleepwear.