“I’m not afraid of you, Azagoth.” In the background, Azagoth heard a whimper, and he prayed it hadn’t come from Lilliana. “Release the Dark Lord. You have forty-eight human hours.”
The line went dead.
Hawkyn went taut as Azagoth lowered the phone from his ear. “What did he say?”
“He said I have forty-eight hours to release Satan. He also said he’s not afraid of me.”
He felt icy hatred expand inside him, slowly at first, and then building to an avalanche of malevolence. He ran his tongue across one fang and savored the sharp sting, the metallic taste of blood he imagined to be Moloch’s.
“But soon, he will be.”
Chapter 12
When Idess arrived in Sheoul-gra, she was greeted by toppled statues and trees, buckled swaths of ground, and a half-dozen grim faces.
Not a good sign.
Jasmine, barefoot and dressed in multicolored harem pants and a midriff-baring black tank top, sashayed forward as Idess stepped off the portal’s platform. “We’re so glad you came.”
Hawkyn nodded in agreement. “Thank you for coming.”
Truthfully, Idess had been grateful when Hawkyn’s text had given her a reason to escape the heartbreak in her extended Seminus family, if only for a little while. Her mate, Lore, had only known Wraith—and his other half-brothers, Shade and Eidolon—for a few years. But they, along with Lore’s twin, Sin, had grown close. So close that when Idess and Lore wanted a child but couldn’t conceive due to Lore’s sterility, the brothers had volunteered to help.
Now, not only had their son lost his uncle, he’d also lost his birth father.
A crushing sadness wrapped around her at the memory of telling Mace about Wraith. Mace’s brown eyes had filled with tears, and the first thing out of his mouth had been concern for his half-brother.
“Poor Stewie,” he’d said. “He doesn’t have another daddy like I do. I can share with him, Mama.”
Losing Wraith had sent the entire family into a state of deep mourning, and as she looked around Sheoul-gra, it seemed that things weren’t much better here.
Journey’s and Maddox’s deaths were an awful blow, but the fact that Lilliana was still alive left room for hope.
Which was why Idess suspected she was here.
“I’m not sure how you expect me to help with Father,” she said. She couldn’t even help her mate right now. Hugs and refills of the whiskey glass only went so far.
Jasmine gestured to the destroyed surroundings with a sweep of her arm, her dozens of bracelets tinkling delicately. “Take a look around. He did this. His mood isn’t getting any better.”
And why would it? A monster had his mate. “What’s being done to locate Lilliana?”
“He’s called in pretty much every favor owed to him,” Hawkyn said. “The Horsemen are helping, and Cara has sent hellhounds on the hunt.”
Her brother’s tone was riddled with apprehension. “But?”
“But Moloch has raised an army of Satan’s supporters with promises that he’s going to free him. There are rumors that Revenant has been imprisoned— or destroyed, depending on who you talk to. Without Revenant around, no one fears his retaliation and they’re flocking to Moloch’s banner.”
“Dammit,” Idess breathed. “We’ve heard similar stirrings at the hospital. Eidolon asked all staff members to question patients about anything they’ve heard. He wants Wraith’s killers, and he’s convinced everything is connected.”
“It has to be,” Cipher chimed in, his eyes glued to his iPad. “The fallen angels were in the parking lot to force Lilliana to use the Harrowgate. We’re not sure how Wraith’s death and trapped soul play a part, but we’ll figure it out.”
She glanced up the ruined path to the fountain that had once run with blood, that had just yesterday run with crystal water. Now, it lay in ruins at the base of Azagoth’s palace.
“Where is Father now?”
“He’s in the Inner Sanctum.” Jasmine’s eyes flickered to Hawkyn, almost as if seeking permission to continue. And then she finished in a low, grave voice, “With a Charnel Apostle high priest.”
Idess gasped. Charnel Apostles were evil even by Hell’s standards. Demons who celebrated violence and pain with religious zealousness, their priests and high priests possessed powerful, murderous abilities. But that wasn’t even the part that left her reeling. It was that no one was allowed in the Inner Sanctum except Azagoth, Hades, Cat, and the fallen angel wardens who ran the place. The millions—perhaps billions—of demons imprisoned there could take advantage of a visitor’s physical form and the powers inherent to it. A single human fingernail could allow a soul to escape into the human world. A hair from an angel could be fashioned into a weapon capable of killing all the wardens.
“Why?” she asked, still stunned by the news.
“We don’t know,” Jasmine said, and everyone traded glances, their discomfort clear. “That’s why you’re here. He needs counsel, and he’s not going to listen to any of us. He’s suspicious of almost everyone, but he trusts you. And Hawkyn.”
She cut a glance at Hawk. “Then why aren’t you handling this?”
“Because I need backup, Idess.” He looked exhausted. Everyone did. They had to know that the odds of getting Lilliana back weren’t good. “I’ve already delivered bad news to him. As the offspring he’s known longer than any of us, it’s your turn.”
It was such a sibling thing to say, and she actually smiled a little before crashing back into reality. And the reality was that she was going to be a sacrificial lamb. The daughter who got disinherited for trying to take her elderly daddy’s keys away before he killed someone.
“Fine,” she sighed as she shrugged out of her jacket and laid it across her arm. “You said in your text that you recovered Wraith’s body. Has Father taken care of his soul? His brothers and sister would like him returned.”
Hawkyn shook his head. “His soul is tethered to his physical form by someone more powerful than our father. Hades is watching over Wraith for now.”
How bizarre. Poor Wraith. Who would have messed with his soul? And why?
A minor tremor shook the ground, and Hawkyn looked up sharply. “You should go to Father.”
This was not going to be pleasant.
Hawkyn fell into step beside her on the walk to Azagoth’s office. They had to take several detours around objects, clearly the wreckage of Azagoth’s wrath. She didn’t bother asking what it had been about. His mate and unborn child were in danger; she was surprised the damage wasn’t worse.
Then she saw the courtyard.
Chunks of roof, soot, and a thick coat of dust covered everything in sight. The inside of the palace was even worse, with collapsed walls and several broken living statues. She’d never felt sorry for the evil beings Azagoth had encased in stone and put on display in his Hall of Souls, but she couldn’t help but wince when she had to step over some poor jackass’s shattered torso. That had to hurt.
“You should see the library,” Hawkyn said, kicking aside a stone head with two broken horns. “I have a feeling there’s going to be a lot of collateral damage before all of this is over.”