With the next wave of demons entering the room came a pulse of power that shook the floor. My breath got stuck in mythroat even as I parried the strike of the demon lunging for me…and behind the warriors currently attacking us, four figures stepped through the door. Two females, two males.
I’d never seen any of the other archdemons, but even without any personal knowledge of them, I’d have recognized them by their power level alone.
Ashtaroth, Baal, Abaddon, and Gadreel.
Clad in fighting gear much like their soldiers, they appeared cleaner, less sprinkled with blood, as if they hadn’t actually entered the fray. Why would they, when they had magic galore to mow down their enemies?
I only had a second of taking them all in, though, before the taller of the females—her hair blindingly silver-white, her skin a shade darker—flicked her hand.
An invisible blow smashed me into the wall. Pain exploded in my back. I gasped for air, my lungs not working, and I slid to the floor. Next to me, Lucifer suffered a similar fate. With a groan, he tried to scramble to standing.
Another one of the archdemons, his burgundy hair framing a face of dark brown, waved his hand, and magic slammed back into me, pinning me to the wall. Lucifer jolted and was pressed to the floor as if a weight had settled on him.
I couldn’t move a muscle, but with a choked yell, I threw out my power again, aiming to annihilate anyone in front of me and Lucifer.
The other female archdemon, hair of honey and porcelain skin, hissed and parried my magical strike with a slash of her hand. The air shimmered and shook as she blocked a blow that would have melted the skin off a regular demon.
In fact, the demon warriors lingering just a little outside her sphere of influence screamed and convulsed as my power hit them. Their clothes burned to ash in a second, their skinbubbled, melted, and sloughed off their bones, even as they fell to the floor and writhed in agony.
My strike hadn’t killed them, just made sure they were horribly incapacitated.
“You dare,” the honey-haired female archdemon said, her lip curling. “You wannabe upstart. Wielding a power that is not meant for you.”
The next second, she was right in my face, her hand around my throat. I choked and gurgled. Whatever the other archdemon had hit me with still held me immobile, and now the female archdemon’s proximity stifled my power as well. It stuttered out whenever I reached for it.
“Shackles,” she purred and held out her free hand to the side.
One of the unblemished soldiers rushed forward and gave her a set of manacles which she clamped around my wrists. I felt the magic-subduing effect sink into my skin, and the uncomfortable memory of the last time I’d been bound like this surfaced—just before I’d been exiled from Heaven.
The clicking of chains drew my gaze to the couch where Azazel still lay unconscious, now manacled as well by the warriors who’d surrounded him.
Next to me, the silver-haired archdemon stepped up to Lucifer as more soldiers grabbed him and shackled his wrists, too. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulled him up so he kneeled in front of her.
“Oh,” she said with a cluck of her tongue, still holding him by his hair, “this was too easy! I’d expected a real fight, my dear. A show of strength from our former king and master, not this…” She waved her free hand at him in a vague gesture, her face scrunched up in disgust. “Whatever pathetic display of frailty this is.”
Lucifer bared his bloodied teeth at her. “You wouldn’t know power if someone forced it down your throat. Or else youwouldn’t have had to enlist the help ofthreeother archdemons to take us down.”
She was about to snap something back at him, when the second male archdemon spoke up.
“Seems like you were right after all, Ashtaroth.” He sauntered closer, studying Lucifer with pity glinting in his eyes. He had dark curly hair that fell to his shoulders, and a soft brown tan. “He has lost his edge.”
Ashtaroth, whose similarities to her son I recognized now, smirked. “I told you. He’s been fading for a while now.” Leaning down to Lucifer, she whispered, “Your time is over. But not your life—I will enjoy keeping you around for entertainment.”
I shivered at the cruel undertone in her voice. I could just imagine what her idea of entertainment would be.
A demon ran inside the room, drawing everybody’s attention to him. His armor splashed with blood, he caught his breath and said in a rush, “Highnesses, we need reinforcements in the east wing. The dragons have entered the fight and are decimating our numbers. We need an archdemon over there. More than one.”
At that, Ashtaroth straightened and glanced at the others. “Go ahead, then. I shall take our prisoners to the throne room for the public execution.”
The blood froze in my veins. I knew this was their goal, but to hear her casually say it out loud…
Power pulsed in the room, coalescing into an invisible mist so thick that it nearly choked me.
The other female archdemon, who had to be Gadreel, narrowed her eyes. “I think not.Yougo with Abaddon and Baal, and I will take our captives.”
The burgundy-haired archdemon snorted. “As if I would trust you not to claim their deaths for yourself!”
“I agree with Baal,” the curly-haired male—Abaddon—added. “I will not hand the prisoners over to any of you while I godo the dirty work, lest the question of who may ascend to rule be decided by the one who takes them to the throne room.”