Page 20 of Burn for the Devil
“You are replaceable,” he hissed, spittle covering my face. Fury tingled across my skin as a thin red mist entered my line of vision. My jaw twitched, aching, while daggers of pain crossed my gumline.No. I couldn’t let him get to me; I wouldn’t allow him to embarrass me like this. There was no way I would fight him in my lesser form, with hundreds of knife-like teethmarring my countenance in a perverse parody of a shark. While handy on a battlefield, it was an abomination in a world where aesthetics ruled. He knew exactly what he was doing, and my pride wouldn’t bend.
I sprang to my feet, focusing on lowering my heartbeat. “Replaceable by whom? All you have is me,father.”
Julian snorted. “Prince of darkness you shall no longer be if you continue on this path.” I winced at the odd manner of speaking he sometimes resorted to. He lifted a hand toward the door Adam had exited through and I heard a feminine scream, and then a cracking sound. “I washed the dishes for you.”
A fissure of pleasure teased the base of my spine, and I opened my eyes. Julian’s lips were parted, inhaling the terror and pain that had just been liberated from the pretty girl. My own mouth opened on instinct, the flavor of a decadent dessert slipping across my tongue.
I couldn’t remember my childhood, but I did remember some of my much younger years and recalled my father bringing me to bloody scenes, cackling by my side. Scenes tinted in orange and red, pain in the air, and the irresistible urge to consume strangling my throat and piercing my brain. The compulsion had been like an innate addiction and Julian had nurtured it at every opportunity, whether I’d wanted to or not. Vaguely, I recalled sequestering myself, tiring of the destruction. I built my estate in the Fourth Realm during those clandestine moments.
“Your kingdom is falling apart. What are you doing to correct this situation?” He drained the contents of his glass. “You’re the wrong kind of good, boy. Good boy. Woof.” Julian chuckled
Lowering myself to the sofa opposite the infernal creature, I answered, “I don’t know what to do. I’m meeting with Ilya, Stefan, and some others soon to assess the situation. I suspect you were already aware of this.”
“Indeed, indeed,” he said, eyeing the cups on the sideboard. “Find another source or I will disown you. I haven’t lived this long to fail again. You wouldn’t be the first son I’ve extinguished.” My father spun on his heel, facing me again. “Your disobedience will cost you everything, including your side piece.”
“My what?”
He cocked his head at me. “For you, it's only a source. Male or female, no matter. Perhaps if you get me one, I’ll allow you a human companion.”
Fear prickled up my spine. He was threatening Samantha. “If you touch her, I will destroy you myself.”
“All she’ll ever be is a pleasant distraction, she’s not magical or a witch. Fulfill your duty and refrain from hollow threats.”
Being the Third Realm’s version of Satan, he was truly indestructible. Not even tearing his heart out or dismembering him were enough to rid the universe of the pest. The most I could hope for was to render him incapacitated, or that the Creator himself would absorb him somehow.
Julian disappeared, an orange tinge hanging in the atmosphere. The veil was thin this evening, allowing a foggy glimpse into my birthplace, the Second Realm. The barren wasteland had never truly felt like home, but I still had an affinity for the kingdom. It was the one place I was worshipped for what I was, being the favorite god amongst its citizens. Nobody liked Julian or appreciated his company, so they clung tome.
My father couldn’t see what I saw in Samantha; she had an affinity for magic. While I hadn’t tasted magic when I’d fed on her, I knew in my soulsomethingwas there. There had to be, or I wouldn’t be so drawn. He was wrong about her.
There was no evidence of Julian having had other children. No photographs, no paintings or statues, no books, or evena song. Humans assigned names to many of us, inaccurate or retired monikers with most of those gods having been extinguished thousands of years ago and newer deities having been set in their place.
Those who engaged with what was considered darker magic would occasionally conjure a demon, however they never received who they’d asked for and they were never the wiser. Fortunately, I’d never been conjured. It was unnecessary, regardless, as I was already here quite often. Not that I would answer, anyway.
With the threat of extinguishment and losing my birthright hanging over my head, I’d have to find another source of magic. A fool’s errand, as Kiara had been the recent sole wellspring. Sources were rarely born. There was no access to the higher realms, not for beings such as me, and she was unable to leave. Not that she’d ever attempt to return, in all likelihood. I couldn’t really blame her.
Ilya had attempted such a feat, a rescue mission of sorts, and was soundly reprimanded by the elevated, higher gods, the moron. While we were also gods, they never bothered with us until someone was arrogant enough to disturb their peace.
Everything had descended into chaos and ruin while Ilya and I had been in relentless pursuit of Kiara. There had to have been a connection between those events and the tainted elixir, the wine. I rose from the couch and sat at my desk and began digging through the piles of books intent on finding answers. Many humans had studied demonology and recorded the history of my kind. Of course, I possessed extensive knowledge. However, humans experienced us from differing perspectives and being present for world-changing events, they diligently noted what they saw and felt. They provided unique details in these tomes, ones that tended to be left out of polite dinner conversations.The older the book, the better. Modern tomes tended to be abysmally censored.
“Sir?” Adam darkened the doorway, and I met his gaze. “I am retiring for the night.”
The man appeared flustered. I picked up my phone, and realized the sun would rise soon if the hour was any indication. “Very well.”
He generally wasn’t present for my extracurricular activities and was likely shaken by Julian’s brutality. Adam nodded and left, closing the door snugly behind him. He rarely, if ever, spoke. The fact he just had disturbed me. He must’ve been deeply shaken by my father’s arrival.
Shortly after Adam’s dismissal, I found myself lying in bed, my mind a turbulent storm. I’d forgotten the relative peace I used to possess, the calm that surpassed any understanding. Longing for the oblivion I’d treasured, I focused on Samantha. Her grace, and her class. The way she held her head up high, a queen in her own right, blessing those who crossed her path with a kind smile. How did she maintain such empathy and elegance in such a broken world? She should have throngs of devotees supplicating at her feet, her throat dripping with rubies, her enemies' heads on gilded platters.
I would give her all this, and more. Much more. Every part of my being.
If only I could bring myself to talk to her.
Ilya was waiting in my office when I arrived. Rubbing my forehead, I walked past him without greeting and moved to sit behind my desk. I wasn’t mentally prepared—for him to havehelped himself to my space, or for this meeting. After checking my emails and texts, it was clear everyone would be joining us.
“I made some notes,” the fucker mumbled. He was answered with a grunt. “Take them or leave them,” he said, dropping a file folder on top of my closed laptop.
Removing it and placing it to the side, I stood up, intent on pouring myself some alcohol.
“What’s with the roses? What happened to gardenias?” Ilya frowned at the glittering vase. “Do you have a new interest?”