Page 7 of Bellamy
“No surprise the mission failed,” Belphegor said, helping himself to another glass. “That’s what happens when you entrust anything to a demon.” He tipped his head to me. “Mid-level demons, I mean. Not you, of course.”
I bit back a feisty retort and smiled instead.
“If it’s so easy, Belphegor, you go get my sword.” Asa sat in a high-back chair in the sitting room beyond the table, the fire crackling before him. The flames brought out the brighter shades of red in his eyes. “The silver lining? None of the brothers can wield it.”
Light Bringer had been Lucifer’s sword. And when the dark lord was thrown into a cage, the angels took his sword to the celestial realm. The Nephilim brothers now had possession of it. It was a special type of weapon though, one forged from Lucifer’s life force. Only those with the same blood could wield it.
“We’ll retrieve it from them,” Belphegor said. “You have my word.”
“I’m growing bored of small-scale attacks.” Asa tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I want to hit them where it hurts.”
Purah grinned and wiggled his fingers. “Let me play with them.”
He was one of the fallen angels who’d joined us earlier that year. With the power to raise the dead, he had been of great use during the attack on the humans. The conjurer of zombies. However, Purah was pretty fucking creepy. And that was saying a lot given the fact that there were species of demons who were part insect and some that looked like huge tarantulas with crablike pinchers.
Purah was on a whole different level of strange.
Ashy-gray streaked through sections of his black hair, scars covered his pale face, and his eyes were an unnatural shade of green, like the color of toxic chemicals. The real creep factor came from his demeanor. He had an unnerving cackling laugh that more suited a witch living in the middle of a haunted forest, just waiting for kids to come by so she could eat them.
Oh, and did I mention his long nails? Because he had those too. The ends were filed into sharp points.Better to cut you with, my dear.
I shook my head to rid it of my ridiculous thoughts and tuned back in to the discussion.
“Walking corpses don’t excite me,” Asa said with a sigh.
Purah’s shoulders slumped.
“How about another storm?” Vepar stretched out on the chaise lounge in the corner, his tanned body ripped with muscle that he loved showing off any chance he could. Like now, as he sat with no shirt, his silver hair cascading down his chest. Even with him completely still, the ends of his hair moved, as if caught in a current of air.
Vepar had the ability to call forth storms—hurricanes and tornadoes, mostly. He could also make it rain—and make the rain stop. Handy to have around, but only if he didn’t speak. He had a smart-ass mouth that grated on my nerves.
“A storm will help us find my sword how?” Asa asked him. I recognized the tightness of his voice. He was losing patience. “Do you intend to blow the barrier away like the big bad wolf? Come now, Vepar. You only wish to show off.”
“Your father said something similar to me once.” Vepar smiled, arm resting on the cushion above his head. His dark golden skin was a sharp contrast to his silver hair and eyes such a light gray they looked white. “But I know he secretly loved when I showed him my skills. All of them.”
Belphegor glared at the floor.
“Speak such filth in my presence again and I’ll cut out your tongue.” Asa’s nostrils flared. His crimson eyes landed on me. “Phoenix. Give me an idea, and make it a good one. I’m not in the mood for games.”
“Zombies and storms won’t work,” I said, standing against the wall beside the fireplace. “But they’re not terrible ideas. The Nephilim brothers protect humankind, yes? So attack the thing they protect. Draw them out.”
“And then what?” Belphegor asked. “Kill them? Thank you for stating the damn obvious, demon.”
“If it’s so obvious, why didn’t you kill your darling son when you had him in your reach?” I asked. “I heard he came right to your doorstep in Scotland, and you didn’t have the balls to take him out.”
Vepar examined a well-manicured fingernail. “He has a point there, Belphie.”
“I had my reasons.”
“Enough bickering,” Asa said. “Belphegor told me about that unfortunate incident in Scotland, and seeing as to how I’m the forgiving type, I’ve put that behind me. For now. But I may not be so understanding next time.” He looked at Belphegor. “Do you still believe your son will join our side?”
“It’s my hope that he will.”
“Hope matters very little, and we mustn’t make decisions based on such a foolish notion,” Asa said. “I can hope all seven of them will drop dead tomorrow, but the reality of it happening is slim to none. So I’ll ask you again. Do you believe Sloth will join us?”
The muscle in Belphegor’s jaw twitched. “No.”
Something hardened in Asa’s expression. A snake coiling up, eyes on the approaching prey. “Then I expect you to do what needs to be done.”
