Page 24 of Demon Sworn
What is that?
I point up. “Raz?”
He looks over and squints, shaking his head. “I dunno.”
Van chips in, “Looks like an angel attack to me.”
Attack? On the queen’s palace? Angels haven’t attacked here in at least a decade because the last time they did, Lucillania shot waves of fire into the sky until it smelled like a chicken fry. It was all-you-can-eat wings for months. So why would they…? Cold trickles down my spine, and the sweat that’s been beading along my back freezes over.
Shit. We just attacked Heaven’s palace.
I glance back up at the flashing lights. Yes, now that Van’s said it, I think I do perceive little snippets of white wings during the flashes that light up the ominous darkness. I stop walking as my heart starts walloping my ribs. “Perhaps we should turn around.” I’m not quite certain we’re going to get a warm welcome.
Raz growls, “Katrina needs this,” and shoves me roughly.
I shut up, but my balls wither a little. I’m pretty certain I’m walking to my death right now. I wish I’d worn a nicer suit.
When we reach the entrance, Lucy and her hellhounds stand silhouetted in the purple light from her castle, her arms crossed over her chest.
Fuck it. She’s pissed. We’re all about to be zapped—
“I see you worked out your differences?” Her face turns from Cal to Raz, though the look in her eyes is impossible to decipher with those glasses she wears.
My poor heart sags in relief. I don’t know how it’s possible, but somehow, Lucillania’s not furious with us.
The devil turns her gaze to me, and even with the glasses on, I can feel the weight of her gaze as if someone just dropped a piano onto my chest.
“Oh, Zolroth. I am angry. You’ve caused me an awful lot of trouble. God’s a bit miffed. But…for Katrina…” She shrugs and reaches out a hand, laying her fingers on my shoulder.
Did I say piano on my chest? I mean a blue whale. A tyrannosaurus. A planet. I swear my bones curve inward and my ribs crush all my organs.
Lucillania lifts her hand back, and suddenly, I can breathe again. I pant, staring at her. “Don’t worry. I know you’ll pay me back for all this assistance one day.”
On that ominous note, she turns and leads us inside.
What would you expect the interior of Hell’s castle to look like? Thrones made of bones? Intestines used as wreaths? Human hearts on display in glass cases?
While the walls soar overhead in gothic arches, the furniture doesn’t match the stained-glass windows. The windows are caricatures of Hell throughout the ages, all the misrepresentations of mankind, even some of dragonkind from other planets. The glass cartoons show a red devil with a pitchfork terrorizing villagers, a black monster swallowing people alive, and a green dragon with his claws embedded in a golden one.
Those windows show a bit of our queen’s humor, but they are quite a contrast to her actual living space.
The rest of Lucillania’s castle is surprisingly modern, a mismatch of architectural designs, as if she has stolen ideas throughout history and incorporated them to fit her needs. Next to a sleek, black leather couch is a wall telephone that looks as if it’s from the eighteen hundreds. Decorative vases line the wall, some cracked and fading, betraying their true ages. One must be a few thousand years old, while others look as if they were made yesterday.
It’s far too eclectic for my tastes, personally.
She leads us down a hallway, her pet hellhounds winding around her legs, and into a relatively empty room with walls made of jade. Relatively, because while there is no furniture, therearenumerous demons gathered throughout the long room.
I recognize some of them instantly.
There’s Krammore, a demon Akor was forced to torture after he was suspected of conspiring against Hell with Heaven. He wasn’t, but the man is still salty to this day. Cut off someone’s testicles, and suddenly it’s World War III. Or Hell War III.
And there is Lopexia, a female demon who fell in love with Van after a tryst nearly ten centuries ago. Of course, Van didn’t love her back, but it didn’t stop her from obsessing over him in a way that was too creepy even for Hell. Like, she would hide under his bed for weeks just to listen to him sleep. And then, when she was sure he wouldn’t awaken, she would stand over him without blinking. Sometimes, she even sat on his face to feel the vibrations of his snores. The only reason he figured it out was when he announced to us he had trouble sleeping at night, because he felt like was suffocating, and we caught the bitch red-handed. Or red-assed, as the case may be.
I spot Grindyes and Antibar, two demons we beat the shit out of when we were competing to become Lucillania’s most trusted demon murder.
And there’s Billom and Teastfur and—
Oh, fuck.
