Page 3 of A Harmony of Procellarum

Thankfully, Torrent is safe inside the walls of the institution. At least I have something to be happy and relieved about. I won’t have to worry about his feelings as I hunt down Tiny.

Chapter two

Torrent

Istareupatthe ceiling and at the fan slowly rotating, doing absolutely nothing to move the stale air around the room. My head turns slightly to look out of the window, a small square hole in the concrete wall decorated with bars. I can see the snow falling outside, the white flakes beginning to gather on the window’s ledge.

It’ll be Christmas soon, and even though Raiden and I had a few good Christmases with our parents, I can’t remember them at all. No, the only ones I remember are from Loving Beginnings, and needless to say, those weren’t festive at all.

Before I killed Father Robert, our Christmas Eves were spent on our knees, servicing the lord through his disciple here on Earth. Christmas morning was rising to a bitter cold room and forcing down lukewarm porridge. Then I took it upon myself to rid the place of evil, discarding the demon who walked the halls and tormented us children. At least I thought I did.

The demon only jumped from one host to another. Me. I can still feel it deep inside, like heated coals simmering in a cool breeze. He whispers in my ear of things I wish I could ignore. How much of a burden I am to my brother, how much I torment Squall, and his loudest proclamation: How much they all need to die.

Maybe I do need to be monitored around the clock and doped up on hardcore meds to be a safe and functioning part of society. The doping up part I can manage on my own, I have been for the past forty years, it’s the functioning in society bit I can’t master. That responsibility has fallen on my bandmates to take care of for as long as I can remember.

So when the demon taunts me about being a burden, I know he’s telling the truth.

Raiden now has a mate, Tempest Skeigh, and even though I hate the whore, I know he deserves a life outside of the Order and if she’s the one he wants, I can’t do anything about it. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Hail found his mate too. Sky Martin may be an unassuming female in all of this, but she’s more entangled in the Order’s web than we are, being her aunt is the new Luciphia. All the females are connected and each of them is more annoying than the last. But the one who takes the fucking cake? Tiny Charles.

She’s sank her claws so deep into what’s mine, or what used to be mine, and she’s my biggest failure. I tried to kill her, tried to free my love’s heart from her greedy clutches, but I failed.

I let out a long, exasperated sigh and turn back to face the ceiling. I had one chance to bring him back to me and I let the ball drop by trusting another inside the Order. Kenny was fucking useless and I should’ve known that, but I needed the help. I couldn’t do it all on my own and keep up the farce of being the faithful brother and drummer of Deluge. My mind was slipping more and more under the pressure, and I let the demon take over when I needed to release the stress.

It left a trail of bodies in its wake, but I was freer because of it.

Now we’re trapped inside this room together—my demon and me—and I have no other choice but to listen to his goading and provocation. Sometimes when I let him spew his insults, I can see how Father Robert was swayed to do the things he did. If only because it promised a moment’s reprieve. I can see how he was driven to shut this thing up when it became too loud, even if it was at the expense of the children he was meant to protect.

Would I do the same? No. I don’t have the same proclivities my old caretaker priest had, but I do enjoy watching a beautiful woman bleed at my hand for the entity I believe in.

The door to my room opens, disrupting my peace filled with blood and still-warm hearts.

“Torrent James,” she purrs, her voice like a soothing balm over my tortured soul. “What are you thinking of in here?”

“Am I late?” I sit up, dropping the hood off my head and shaking out my shoulder-length locs. I try to mull over the things I needed to do today as her warm chuckle slips through my ears, stalling my thoughts.

“No, you did good today,” she assures as she sits on the bed beside me. “Do you need more rest, or are you feeling up to another task?”

“How could I deny you?” I grin. “You freed me from hell. I am indebted to you.”

“Torrent, what I am offering you is monumental. There can be no mistakes and you must let go of your ties to your family. I need you to be one hundred percent here. Can you give me that?”

The lure of power is like the most potent form of drug. The way it slips its hold around your throat and claims your breath for its own is intoxicating. I’ve always been just out of reach of its grasp, narrowly escaping its pull for all these years. Not by choice. I’ve been hunting power, salivating for just a touch from its corrupted fingertips. It seemed the harder I pushed, the farther away it got, and I craved it all the more.

Or maybe none of that was me. Victor James was once a boy, unstained by the extended hand of God, untarnished by the cruel facade of fame. All of that changed when I became a host to an unwelcome guest. One I’ve adapted to, and in some instances, used its power to feed my needs.

“Torrent.” She snaps her fingers in front of my face, pulling me from the inner workings of my villainous mind.

“Sorry.” I smile and lick my bottom lip, watching as her eyes drift down to the forked ends of my tongue. “What were you saying?”

She throws the mask to my lap, the eerie double-faced metal giving me a gleefully sorrowful look. “I need another task from you. Are you feeling up to it? Can I count on you?”

My fingers brush over the cool surface, the chill seeping through my skin and creeping along my arm. I can feel the omnipotent power emanating from its design. Its weight in benevolence is so much greater than the slight form containing it.

“Yes, Luciphia.” My eyes never waver from the Melpomene face. “I am yours to use however you wish.”

“Vanquisher, I have a target for you.”

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