Page 7 of Ashes to Ashes

Ashe closed her eyes, and for the first time since her arrival, she dreamed, her subconscious flooded with visions of a man with emerald eyes, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume her.

CHAPTER 4

Leviathan’s footsteps echoed ominously as he approached the study door, the sound of his footfalls announcing his presence to any trying to hide. He rapped lightly on the darkened oak, the spiked tip of his wings brushing against the wall behind him as he waited.

Only a demon like Belial could get away with keeping the Prince of Envy waiting, and even then, Leviathan’s patience was thin.

“Enter,” a cold voice called out from within.

With the grace of a predator and the confidence of a conqueror, Leviathan pushed open the door and stepped into the opulent chamber, his eagle-like eyes taking in every luxurious detail with a mix of disdain and appreciation.

The study was a lavish space adorned with richly decorated furniture, expensive tapestries, and shelves filled with ancient tomes and artifacts. The air was heavy with the scent of tobacco and power, both of which came from the dark figure seated behind the desk.

A sinuous trail of smoke wafted from an ornate pipe perched in the corner of Belial’s mouth, casting an otherworldly glow across his cruel, yet beautiful, features.

The Crossroads demon could shift his shape, taking on whatever guise was necessary to gain a signature on his contracts.

Contracts were born almost entirely out of human envy. Certainly, there were a few humans who only sought to save an ailing friend or lover, but the typical requests dealt with the human’s desires over their baser needs—greed, lust, and envy being the top three.

The two demons were old rivals. A rivalry fueled by their mutual desire for power and control.

“Levi,” he purred, a twisted smirk playing on his lips. “To what do I owe this displeasure?”

He paused, working as hard as he could not to correct the demon at the use of his nickname. “I have come to discuss our latest acquisition,” Leviathan said smoothly, cutting straight to the point.

Belial leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together thoughtfully. “Ah yes, the mortal kingdom of Aldor,” he said with a sly smile. “I must say, I am impressed with your abilities.”

Leviathan smirked at the compliment. He had always prided himself on being able to outmaneuver and outwit his enemies, but hearing it was always delicious.

“But I must caution you,” Belial continued. “Do not let your greed blind you. The other princes will not take kindly to your sudden rise in power.”

Leviathan’s smirk turned into a scowl at the warning. No one gave him a warning except the king. He despised being underestimated or told what to do by anyone, especially by someone beneath him.

“Do not worry about me,” Leviathan retorted coolly. “I have no intention of sharing my new kingdom with anyone.”

Belial chuckled darkly. “That is where our differences lie,” he said cryptically before changing the subject abruptly. “Nowtell me, is the other reason you’re here? You’ve never come to discuss business before.”

“I have an invitation, one that I have decided to personally deliver to the highest demon lords in my realm,” Leviathan began, brandishing the crisp parchment adorned with his seal of the realm. “A ball, Belial. And you are expected to attend.”

Belial’s eyes shone with cruel delight as he set down his quill, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “The highest demon’s soirees are always so entertaining, aren’t they? The amount of envy that courses through the guests is positively delicious. Is that your play?” His gaze lingered on Leviathan’s form, as if he could see right through to the covenant that bound them.

“Indeed,” Leviathan replied curtly. He didn’t appreciate the way the demon continued to try to one up him. “We are to bring our most cherished. . . possession.”

Belial’s eyes narrowed. “And why would you think I’d keep my most valuable trinkets on display, Levi?”

“As a Crossroads Demon, your contracts yield very fruitful goods,” Leviathan shot back, his voice low but laced with steel. “Besides, I’m certain you wouldn’t want word getting around that you couldn’t back up your grandiose claims of being the richest demon lord in the realm. Would you, Belial?”

Belial’s fist clenched tight around the pipe as he finally took it from between his lips, but he eventually relented with a careless wave of his hand. “Fine, I’ll attend your ball. But for now, I must bid you adieu, Levi.” His voice dripped with false politeness as he stood, towering over the other Leviathan who still sat.

Leviathan’s wings twitched in agitation, but he knew better than to antagonize Belial further, and if he killed the demon, which there is no doubt would, he’d have a supply issue.

“Until then,” he said stiffly, spinning on his heel to leave.

“Oh, Belial,” Levi called out, stopping for just a moment. “Don’t be late, or I’ll be forced to. . . entertain myself with whomever is your most recent acquisition.”

Just before crossing the threshold, his gaze caught something in the corner of the room, stopping him a second time. A stunning woman in dirt-covered rags stood with fiery red hair cascading down her back. She was unlike any he had ever seen before. Dirt smudged her face, and tears streaked down her cheeks, but even in her disheveled state, she was undeniably beautiful.

Belial noticed Leviathan’s lingering stare and smirked knowingly. “Ah, my latest acquisition,” he said, gesturing towards the woman. “I just couldn’t resist adding her to my collection.”

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