Chapter 19

A visit to Hell reveals new truths

Devlyn paced her bedroom, chewing the inside of her cheek in frustration. This entire situation was intolerable. None of this was her decision�"never had been, never could be, she realized that now. Bane�"Nykosas�"had no more say than she did. He was as stuck as she was, he just accepted it a lot better. He accepted her. She could see all that now, without the blinders her defiance had created.

He had been trying to ease her into the situation. She could see that now too. He was getting her to fall in love with him, or at the very least like him, so that she could accept the inevitable as easily as possible. He had let her go hoping that time could heal her hurt feelings, clear her head, and diffuse her tremendous anger. In a lot of ways, her passage here had done all of those things. Only she had grown too fond of life here, had immensely enjoyed her freedom, and had been clinging to those hard memories of emotions as a shield to protect her, to keep her from admitting what she was trying so damn hard to resist.

But this! His life! She might still not want to be tied to him forever, but she wasn’t going to risk his life for her own happiness. Even she wasn’t that selfish. She was going to acquiesce in whatever way possible. She wanted those marks on his back gone. If she was going to be bound to him, he was damn well not going to be walking around with such an obvious and well-known Achilles Heel. He meant too much to her for him to be taken away like that.

She knew who would know the most about such a mark: the two who had put it there. Her father and his father. The latter was out of the question. What kind of man�"or god�"would try to kill his own son? But she could talk her father into and out of almost anything. The big exception was her nuptials, and she understood why now. He wasn’t going to deny her this though.

In a flash Devlyn was at the entrance to her father’s personal lair. She sucked in her breath. She hadn’t been here in ages, but there wasn’t much that appeared different. There was no sulfur smell, no pits of lava. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was cold, cavernous, and dark. Rock surrounded everything. It was all grey in this world, or at least in this part of it. Different parts held different atmospheres, but this place was always cold. It was Bane’s father, Arrykos, who held fire in his realm. If Arrykos was fire, then her father was definitely ice. 

She approached a great metal door, the gate to her father’s chambers. As a child she would enter without announcement, but that had been so long ago, before the Big Rebellion, and she wasn’t as carefree as she had been then. She was nervous, she realized. There was a definite apprehension to seeing her father and telling him, admitting to him, her feelings for a man. A man whom she had slept with. She suddenly felt a little dirty all over.

There was a large knocker and gave it three heavy blows. She stepped back a moment as a beautiful woman, wearing a tight red leather pantsuit and four-inch matching leather boots, walked out from the door. It had been centuries but the creature did not look like a day had passed.

The woman tossed her long, dark curls and narrowed her almond-shaped yellow eyes. “Eliyana? What are you doing here? You know Darmour is not at all pleased with you.”

Devlyn’s smiled toyed on her lips as she took in the older woman, spiked pupils dilating in her angered eyes. Whoa, Ely had definitely pissed everyone off around here. She smiled broadly, a facial expression her half-demon half-sister rarely used, if she ever had. “Has it really been that long, Xania?” she asked impishly, putting a hand on her hip.

A brief look of surprised flitted across the woman’s face before it was masked and a small smile was placed across her mouth. “There is no way this beauty before me could be little Devlynaria!”

Devlyn shrugged. “I’m afraid so. Is my father available?”

“For you, I’m sure. Let me go tell him.” The demon disappeared, melting back into the door. Xania was a perplexing creature, known to be pitiless, merciless, and as deadly cold as the metal she was capable of bending to her will, which explained the easy transport through the door. Devlyn, fortunately, had only seen the best side of her, most likely because she was her father’s favorite, and he was Xania’s master.

Suddenly, just Xania’s head popped through the door. “You can come in, child.” And the door swung open, Xania’s head floating with it. Devlyn had forgotten just how strange some things were around here. Once upon a time that had seemed normal, and as a child Devlyn had longed for Xania to teach her how to perform that little trick. She just ended up with a bruise on her forehead for her efforts.

She liked that outfit, though, and she could easily see Katerina sauntering around the club in it. Or Bane ripping it off of her, though that was highly unlikely. The soft-looking material had not been dyed that deep color red, but came from a goughan, whose hide was naturally that brilliant color and quite difficult to make into clothing because the hide was so strong. Xania was damn near impenetrable wearing it. That was smart, working for Devlyn’s father as she did, especially with his nasty temper.

She mentally shrugged away any lingering doubts about this visit with her father. Absolutely no one here could see doubt in her countenance, her sire included. He tolerated absolutely no weakness, and emotions such as doubt and nervousness he considered weakness. She knew he loved as much as it was possible for him to love, but she also knew that these demons down here were a special breed of piranha that ate what they took as frailty like carrion. Even Xania, as much as she liked Devlyn, was ruthless enough take advantage of all she could.

 “Devlynaria!” her father’s strong, deep voice echoed though the chamber. A quick scan of the large, cavernous room found him sitting behind a broad ochre desk, relaxed and composed as he sat back comfortably in a massive leather chair.

Her father was still incredibly handsome. The slight gray at his temples only added a distinguished air to his already-arrogant countenance. His skin had a darker complexion than her own, he was tall, nearly as tall as Bane, but he could be ten times as terrifying. Eyes the same brilliant color as her own now looked at Devlyn in clear elation, mixed with curiosity. Her dad. Even through the apprehension, she had missed him terribly, and the lump tightening her throat had nothing to do with fear.

“Hello, aniedi,” she said pleasantly, trying to cover with her voice the feeling of her stomach dropping to her toes. Nervous, happy, scared, and a little guilty were not emotions to be mixed together in hopes of an enjoyable reaction.

He was up in an instance and moving around the wooden edifice to embrace her. “My beautiful child. It has been entirely too long,” he scolded softly. “More than two thousand years too long.” The gentle tone was one she had only heard him use with her. For whatever reason, she was a soft spot for him, and though ordinarily he would never reveal that, she knew no one would be so stupid as to threaten to harm her. If her dad didn’t kill the person responsible, Bane and both of his brothers would be sure to tear them limb from limb. That knowledge gave her father the freedom to love her that he did not have with his other progeny. Even their mothers would exploit that kind of emotion.

She still hadn’t let go, and neither had he. There was really nothing else like her father’s hug, with those strong arms wrapped around her so protectively. And he smelled just as she remembered, like fine tobacco and vanilla. She felt like a little girl again, sneaking here to hear his stories and rants, running off to spend time with her nefarious sisters, not all of which were evil, but none were close to her in age, so she had idolized all of them.

“I know. I just didn’t understand what you all were trying to tell me. But I understand now.”

He pushed back to look down at her. She raised her chin and met his eyes, not daring to drop eye contact with him, lest he think her weak. She wasn’t weak. Far from it. She was here to fight, because she had been foolish and someone else had taken her punishment for her, and that just didn’t sit right with her in the least.

“Do you now?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes,” she said evenly. “But we still have a large problem.”

Darmour dropped his arms from around his most precious daughter. He moved to lean against the front of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. She angered him like no one else could, except her mother. Both women drove him to distraction. It was why he could never love Reisha the way she deserved, because he did love her, and emotions were not something he was particularly good at. The daughter before him could push his buttons just the same as her mother. Though he was pleased that she was here paying him a visit, he wasn’t so naïve as so think she did not have an ulterior motive for it. “Alright, let’s hear it, Devlynaria.”

Would no one ever be willing to shorten her blasted name? Geez! “His back. I want the symbol removed.”

He arched a brow. The obstinate tilt of her chin had her mother written all over it, but the deadly serious glean in her eyes was every bit himself. “How do you know about the punishment on his back?” he asked, suppressing a smile. He had been waiting for more than twenty-seven hundred years for her to see reason.

She wouldn’t blush, by gods, she would not blush! “I saw. I asked. He answered,” she said shortly. “He told me what they are, what they mean, and why the Council put them there. I want them gone.”

“Why, Devlyn?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“What does it matter to you if the marks remain?”

“Because they shouldn’t stay.”

“Why?” he pressed.

“Because it was my fault! And he should not be punished forever because of it.”

“Why?”

She didn’t remember her father being this unrelentingly annoying. “Because he will always be a half step away from death. Anyone who chooses can add that one mark, and he is gone forever.”

“I would think that would please you.”

Once, not so long ago, it would have, or so she’d thought. But she knew better now. “No. That’s not how it is supposed to be.”

“And just how is it ‘supposed to be’?” he mocked.

She growled in frustration. “If he’s going to die because of me, then I damn well want to do it myself, not have some a*****e with a loophole take him from me. I want them gone,” she repeated.

“Why, Devlyn? You don’t want him, so he should be none of your concern. He made his decision. So leave it be.”

“He’s my betrothed!” He was more than that now. In all likelihood she was pregnant with their child, which would have sealed their bond, which meant he was her husband. He was her lifemate, and she didn’t want him to be taken from her unexpectedly so soon. Or at all. But she couldn’t tell her father that. She was not a complete fool. She could not admit, here of all places, that she…. She what?

“He needs to be alive so we can have our destined children. A little difficult to do if he’s dead.”

“Thank the gods you are not a lawyer. You couldn’t argue the innocence of a saint.”

“D****t, you had no right to put them there in the first place! Even if a punishment had to be dealt, a death symbol should not have been used!”

Darmour looked at his nails in mock-fascination, audibly yawned, and gave her a level look. “You’re boring me here, Devlynaria. Your guilt. Your anger. Right and wrong. None of this is of any consequence, and it is certainly not reason enough to remove that which is for all intents and purposes permanent.”

“Because I love him!” she yelled, not caring now if half of hell heard her. “Because I love him and don’t want to lose him now that I see what I should have seen twenty-seven hundred years ago. I do not want him marked for death. It’s a wonder one of your creatures hasn’t finished the job already.”

Darmour smiled. “Actually, my dear, it would have taken you to mark the center. You were the object, the source, after all, and it was in your name it was created. You had to be the one to complete it. Now you have finished it.”

All blood left Devlyn’s face. Had she just inadvertently killed him by admitting she loved him? Holy evolutionary f**k!