Page 116 of Spit

“The silver on the air might negate the demon magic.” I pointed out.

“We can only hope that human blood will provide some protection against that,” Quinn said. “I will paint the circle. Mars, think of who we should call.”

I chuckled. “Let's just call Legion or Sev. One of the stewards.”

Mars and Quinn exchanged a look.

“The stewards do not have demonic names,” Mars said impassively.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Only those born in Hell are gifted a Cyclian name. We were born in the Summerland. Created by Nova herself. We have a different name and cannot be summoned by the blood of the slain.” Mars explained, his green eyes glinting.

My mouth turned into a circle as I watched Quinn dip his fingers into the pool of blood on the floor. He bent down with his arm straight and began to draw.

“We could call Kiko,” Quinn suggested, his brow furrowed as he focused on his task.

Mars rolled his head from one shoulder to the next as he considered Quinn’s statement. “Kiko requires tribute.”

“A bone, perhaps?” Quinn laughed, pointing to the dead body.

“Good point.” The stoic demon allowed.

I was still hung up on Mars’s statement about names. “One second.” I turned to Mars again as Quinn continued fingerpainting with Dr. Wise’s blood, drawing demonic runes between the lines. “You said you have a name; it's just not a demonic one. What is it?”

Mars seemed to be in pain.

I rolled my eyes before waving away my question. “Fine if you can’t tell me. I get that everyone has secrets.”

Quinn looked up from where he was drawing a lifelike portrait of the three-headed dog from Legion’s estate. “You might as well tell her, brother. It seems that our paths intertwined long before we met. She has bonded to the others, it seems.”

I had no idea what that meant. I needed to find out precisely what the bonding malarky was about and if the bond they kept talking about was as serious astheirbond.

Mars considered his words before coming to a silent conclusion. “My true name is Kindness.” He said, dipping his head regally.

I spluttered, spitting by accident before putting my hand over my mouth and feeling undignified by my response. I hoped they didn’t notice. “Kindness? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Mars turned to Quinn and gave him one of his looks as if to say, ‘See? This is why I didn’t say anything.’

Quinn looked up, the tips of his fingers bloody, though he made no attempt to clean them. “I think our names require more explanation than that, brother.” Quinn turned to me. “We were once known as the seven heavenly virtues. Our position in the Summerland directly balanced to the original sins.”

My eyes widened. “That sounds heavy.”

“Quite.” Quinn agreed. “I represented Liberality. The ability to be open, giving, and without judgment.”

“But now you all represent sins?” I squinted.

“Hell has a way of twisting things.” Quinn chuckled. “Each of us took up the mantle of our opposites when we came to hell to serve the Red City. It is easy to understand the nature of sin when you know its opposition.”

The circle on the floor let out a light pulse, bright enough that stars danced in my vision. I held my hand up to shield my eyes.

“It seems our message has gotten through,” Mars said.

“We can only hope,” Quinn replied.

Chapter Twenty-One

Legion POV

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