Page 23 of His Infernal Purr
The question strikes at a fear I’ve been carefully avoiding—the inevitable brevity of Finn’s lifespan compared to my eternal existence. But I push the thought aside, focusing on the immediate threat.
“My choices are not your concern,” I reply coldly. “State your terms clearly and be done with it.”
Valefar smiles, clearly sensing he’s struck a nerve. “My terms are simple. Return with me now, and I’ll leave your human untouched for the remainder of his natural life. Stay, and I will take him—not his life, that would be too merciful, but his mind, his soul, his very essence. I’ll keep him as a pet in my collection for eternity.”
I feel rather than see Finn stiffen behind me.
“Or,” Valefar continues, examining his claws casually, “there is a third option. You could fight me for the right to remain here undisturbed. Winner claims all—your territories, your legions, and the fate of your human pet.”
“Stop calling me a pet,” Finn mutters, though only I can hear him.
I consider the options, calculating probabilities. Returning to Hell means abandoning Finn but ensuring his safety. Staying without fighting means eventually losing him to Valefar’s cruelty. Fighting means risking everything on my ability to defeat a rival whose power nearly matches my own.
“I’ll fight,” I decide, the words emerging with certainty. “Here and now.”
“Morax, no,” Finn protests quietly. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do,” I interrupt, not taking my eyes off Valefar. “Name the terms of combat.”
Valefar’s smile widens, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. “Traditional rules. No weapons beyond our natural capabilities. No outside interference.” His gaze flicks meaningfully to Finn. “First to yield or be incapacitated loses.”
“Agreed,” I nod. “But not here. There’s a vacant warehouse three blocks east. We fight there.”
“Concerned for your human’s furnishings?” Valefar mocks. “How domestic you’ve become.”
“Concerned for unnecessary collateral damage,” I correct. “The warehouse or no deal.”
He considers this, then nods. “Very well. The warehouse. Ten minutes.” With a mocking bow, he steps backward into his portal, which collapses in a shower of green sparks.
The moment he’s gone, Finn grabs my arm. “Are you insane? You can’t fight him!”
“I assure you, I’m quite capable,” I reply, already preparing myself mentally for battle. “I’ve defeated Valefar before.”
“When you were at full power in Hell!” Finn argues. “Not after weeks of helping me spay cats and eating Thai takeout on the couch!”
Despite the gravity of the situation, I find myself smiling slightly at his description. “My power is not diminished by proximity to neutered felines or pad thai, Finn.”
“You know what I mean,” he insists, genuine fear in his eyes now. “He set this whole thing up. The curse, finding us—it’s all been leading to this. It’s a trap.”
“Undoubtedly,” I agree, placing my hands on his shoulders. “But it’s a trap I must walk into regardless. The alternatives are unacceptable.”
Finn searches my face, his own expression a complex mixture of fear, frustration, and something deeper I’m still learning to name. “There has to be another way.”
“If there were, I would take it,” I say softly. “I have no desire to risk what we have built here.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then straightens his shoulders with sudden determination. “Take me with you.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Yes,” he insists. “He said no outside interference, but he didn’t say no witnesses. I’m coming with you.”
I open my mouth to refuse again, but the stubborn set of his jaw tells me this is an argument I won’t win. “You will stay completely out of the fight,” I stipulate. “No matter what happens. Promise me.”
“I promise to stay out of the fight unless you’re actually about to die,” he counters. “That’s the best you’re getting.”
I growl in frustration but recognize it’s the most concession I’ll receive. “Fine. But you stay by the door, ready to run if necessary.”
Chapter 9
