ã€ŠSon of Strife - Demonic Urban Fantasy (Book 1 Complete)ã€‹


 Prologue â€“ King Slayer

    Being drawn at high-speed by four large silver-eyed beasts, was an oversized black carriage with gold accents. Inside, lounging on an elaborate padded bench, a youth lazily combed his fingers through his spiky midnight blue hair. Despite his appearance, nearly indistinguishable from a man in his twenties, he was a demon north of four centuries old.

    ¡°Forgive me, my prince, but why do you insist on challenging High Lord Ose at close quarters?¡±

    The prince looked across at his elderly vassal, meeting his hooded eyes. A former assassin, the centuries for which they had known each other had truly taken their toll on the vassal¡¯s lust for battle. Had anyone else asked such an inane question, he likely would have disposed of them straightaway. ¡°Heinrik, the King of Hell cannot be weak in any sense of the word. Ose¡¯s Flair makes him the ideal sparring partner for physical combat. Whether I ever obtain a victory against him is irrelevant. Were I not learning something new from each bout, he would never land...¡±

    ¡°My prince?¡±

    ¡°Brace yourself, Heinrik.¡±

    The older demon¡¯s perception wasn¡¯t on a par with the prince¡¯s, so he took him at his word. He fished out four small throwing knives from inside his jacket, useless weapons in the hands of another who lacked his pinpoint accuracy and skill, undiminished even in his advanced age. There was howling from outside as their carriage skidded to an abrupt halt on the ancient cobbled road they were traversing. Following the sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone, it was silenced. Someone approached and ripped the carriage door off its hinges with their gauntlet-covered hands.

    Remaining stretched out along the bench as an all too familiar face peered in at him, the prince said, ¡°Misery, you better have a magnificent reason for this disruption.¡±

    The tall demon whose well-trained muscles were buried beneath heavy armor, yet added to his hulking physique, said, ¡°Prince Resent, you are to be detained for the murder of King Strife.¡±

    As soon as the final word left his lips, Resent burst out laughing. Rising to his feet and striding forward, he said, ¡°Next time you find yourself feeling frolicsome, General, perhaps spare four of my finest hounds in your hoax. Now, have your Brutes secure me a new carriage before I become violent.¡±

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    Misery blocked the exit with a great sword nearly equal in length to his body. ¡°Have you ever known me to engage in such buffoonery?¡±

    Resent stared hard into his entirely white eyes for a long moment. ¡°Father is dead? Truly?¡±

    ¡°Cease playing the fool. We are all aware that tensions had been especially high between you and the king as of late. You have always been even more power hungry than most of our kind, but to go this far...I believed you were above this.¡±

    ¡°This is absurd,¡± Heinrik snapped, his typically thin voice deepening with indignation. ¡°The prince and I were visiting Erodis for the past several days, whereas the king was surely in the capital. What evidence could there possibly be that he is responsible for this?¡±

    ¡°And did you watch him for every instant of this excursion? Do not feign ignorance. He uses a carriage for the benefit of those with whom he travels. Alone, he could span the distance between the two great cities in minutes,¡± Misery said. Turning to Resent, he added, ¡°Furthermore, these are not baseless accusations. We have several witnesses who swore even under the most rigorous torture that they saw you kill your father. Now, come quietly so this does not end as badly as it could for you.¡±

    Resent pursed his mouth in a smirk, his stare never shifting from Misery¡¯s stoic face. ¡°Return to the castle, Heinrik.¡±

    ¡°But, my prince, I can¡ª¡±

    ¡°There is no need. One who should know my capabilities better than any not only refuses to kneel to his new ruler, but has deluded himself into thinking he can defeat me.¡± The prince¡¯s violet eyes lost all humor, taking on the cold focus of a predator locked onto his prey. ¡°I suppose I ought to rectify the notion.¡±

    Noticing his steel-clad soldiers were heading toward the side door through which Heinrik was taking his leave, Misery said, ¡°Let him be. He was a loyal servant to King Strife long before the prince¡¯s birth. He has no involvement in this.¡±

    Once Heinrik was out of his path of destruction, Resent stretched out a hand and black fumes with purple undertones flowed from it. Misery leapt away as the darkness swirled, tearing the sides and roof from the carriage in an explosion of glass, wood, and steel. With the perpetually hot winds at his back, from the carriage¡¯s remains, Resent looked down upon the royal guard. Those whose sole task had been to protect he and his father. Standing there in their horned helms, tightly gripping spears and blades in trembling hands, as if any of it would give them the slightest chance against one of his caliber, they had failed utterly.

    ¡°Oh? I see some of you have remembered you have good reason to fear me. But your sense has returned far too late. For the all-around incompetence you have displayed, your lives end here,¡± Resent said with indifference.

    And the nebulae at his command began the slaughter.

 Chapter 1 - The End Is Nigh

    Rodrigo Beltran was leaning against a cold steel column, focusing intently on the train tracks below. A pair of rats were having a tug of war over a half-eaten slice of pizza, though from the fat on them, neither was hurting for food. Amusing as the sight might have been, it only served as a welcome distraction from what he was seeing out of the corner of his eye. A man dressed like he was ready to go on a killing spree. And from the way his gaze lingered on Rodrigo, he was on the top of the hit list.

    The weirdo was as tall as an NBA player, and wearing a slim-fitting Gothic trench coat, the hem inches from reaching the filthy concrete of the subway. Beneath his hood, he concealed his face behind a gold mask that resembled a beast baring its fangs. He had to be using contact lenses because his eyes were blood-red with vertical slit pupils. It was December, so Halloween was out, though maybe the man was cosplaying as an obscure character, and on his way to a comic book convention.

    But by the end of the second rock song blasting from Rodrigo¡¯s earbuds since he¡¯d first seen the man, his stomach was in knots. It was early afternoon, and they were in the back of a near-deserted station. The only other person on this side of the platform was a dazed-looking homeless man, slumped forward in his seat on a wooden bench. He raised a brown glass bottle wrapped in a paper bag to his chapped lips, oblivious to Rodrigo¡¯s growing anxiety.

    As Rodrigo felt the slight rumble of an approaching train, he fought the urge to stare right at the masked man, in case he intended to shove him in front of it. When the F train pulled to its familiar screeching halt, he nearly slammed into the parting doors in his rush to get on.

    Now in the last car with at least a dozen people, he blew out the held breath threatening to suffocate him, and took a seat opposite the open doors. As he looked around, he was relieved the man must have been waiting for a different train.

    But as the doors closed, and the train began its slow departure from the station, through the windows, he glimpsed a black shape looming over the homeless man. He was pinned by a gloved hand to the bench beneath him. Eyes widening, Rodrigo shot forward in his seat just as there was a gleam of steel and a streak of red. Then the train left the surreal scene behind, replacing it with the placid white tile wall.

    As the train entered the tunnel and the windows darkened, Rodrigo glanced around at the other passengers. Most people¡¯s faces were lost in their phones or had their headphones plugged in like him. Jaded New Yorkers determined to mind their own business. Still, what was more likely? Being the sole witness to an assault that occurred inside a split-second, or that it had been a hallucination drummed up out of sleep deprivation? After a few more minutes of paranoia, he convinced himself of the latter and became re-immersed in his music.

    Half an hour later, after crossing from the Lower East Side of Manhattan to Brooklyn, the train came to his stop. Still tuning the world out in a haze of guitar riffs and rebellious lyrics, he rose and got off. He went past the dozing token booth clerk and up the subway steps to the surface. Despite the sun¡¯s rays beaming down on him, the chill in the air forced him to button his black denim jacket.

    Rodrigo¡¯s suburban neighborhood, Lunar Peak, was no Park Slope, but it was relatively safe. The worst thing within a mile was an old observation tower with a grim past. Over the years, several people had climbed it and committed suicide by diving off. Supposedly the most recent was a girl, who multiple people witnessed falling from the top of the tower. They never found her body.

    Of course, the local conspiracy theorists and religious nuts had a field day with that one. Even now, crazy rumors about her having been swallowed up by the earth and taken straight to Hell persisted. That earned the tower the nickname ¡°Hell¡¯s Spiral.¡± Ludicrous as it sounded, it still gave off an eerie vibe which kept almost everyone away. And that isolation made it Rodrigo¡¯s favorite place to go.

    His little brother, Carlito, stayed home sick today, so Rodrigo figured he¡¯d surprise him with a decent lunch from Happy¡¯s Chinese restaurant. After racing against Rodrigo to see who could finish their Buffalo wings first, the poor kid¡¯s consolation prize was heartburn. He pulled an all-nighter, watching a smorgasbord of television from cartoons to deep sci-fi shows, while Rodrigo slipped in and out of consciousness in an effort to keep him company.

    He went into the small takeout joint and ordered chicken with black bean sauce for himself, and a mild chicken with snow peas for Carlito. As he took a seat at one of two tables to wait, his phone vibrated in the pocket of his faded gray jeans.

    He pulled it out to see a text from an unknown number. ¡°The end is nigh. You must come accept the urn if you wish to live. Time and location will be disclosed through other means.¡±

    Snickering, Rodrigo deleted the message, and put his phone away. Whatever they were selling, he wasn¡¯t interested.

    ¡°Your order is ready,¡± the frail Chinese man said from behind the counter.

    But if it was a con, that might have been one of the worst sales pitches in history. What urn? What other means? What was that message trying to encourage?

    ¡°The food you ordered is ready,¡± the man repeated, shoving the bag out in front of him.

    ¡°Oh, sorry. Thanks,¡± Rodrigo said as he handed the man the money. He grabbed the bag off the counter and left.

    After walking a few blocks, he reached his single-family detached home. The three-story house was over a hundred years old and looked it. The light blue bricks were spalling in places and the metal rails on either side of the short flight of steps leading up to the porch were rusting.

    ¡°I¡¯m home!¡± Rodrigo shouted as he entered the hallway, locking the door behind him.

    Carlito ambled down the stairs, aged enough they squeaked even under his meager weight, and hugged him.

    ¡°Hey, how you feeling?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Better. Bigger news, though. Your school called about you cutting class. I told them I¡¯d let Mom know,¡± Carlito said, his brow creased in a frown. Then his disapproving expression turned into a triumphant grin. ¡°Not.¡±

    Rodrigo gave him a high five. ¡°Nice save. Hopefully that keeps them off my back until winter break¡¯s¡ª¡± One of the steps gave a delayed squeak. He stared at them over his brother¡¯s mop of curly black hair, fearing he¡¯d find the living storm cloud that was their mother, Miriam, or her little stool pigeon, delighted to have something to report. ¡°No one else is home yet, right?¡±

    ¡°Course not. So, what¡¯d you get?¡± Carlito asked, pointing at the bag of Chinese food. He trailed behind Rodrigo into the living room, where he put the food on the glass coffee table. Carlito tore the stapled paper bag open, and the excitement melted off his face as if he¡¯d missed the lottery by a single number. ¡°I wanted General Tso¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Well, General Tso¡¯s didn¡¯t want you,¡± Rodrigo said as he passed Carlito a plastic fork. His brother turned on the TV, pulled up the newest episode of his favorite pirate anime, and bobbed his head as the upbeat Japanese theme song about dreams and friendship began.

    After finishing their food and the show, they were flicking through channels when the front door opened.

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    ¡°I¡¯m back, loser.¡± Their thirteen-year-old sister stomped into the room with her high, shoulder-length pigtails swaying.

    ¡°Hey, Raquel. I didn¡¯t sleep too well earlier. Going to take a nap,¡± Carlito said, fleeing back upstairs to the room he and Rodrigo shared.

    Raquel¡¯s dark eyes narrowed. ¡°What are you doing home this early?¡±

    ¡°I was sick, so they let me skip my last two periods,¡± Rodrigo lied. In reality, Mr. Nichols had tried to take his phone because he glanced at it to check the time. With history being the one subject he was acing, Rodrigo figured he could apologize, put the phone away, and pay extra attention to the mind-numbing lesson on the Industrial Revolution. But in the end, he was kicked out of class for refusing to have his phone confiscated, until his mother deigned to go pick it up. Then, not at all in the mood for yet another follow-up lecture from the condescending Principal Verona, he had sneaked past the security guards and left the building.

    ¡°Uh-huh. Looks real life-threatening. I¡¯m sure Mom will want to take you to the emergency room when I tell her,¡± Raquel said.

    ¡°Feel free, but do that, and I might let it slip about how you¡¯ve been video chatting with that emo kid she hates. What¡¯s his name again? Johnny? Jimmy?¡± Then, with a snap of his fingers, Rodrigo said, ¡°Jamie.¡±

    The blood drained from Raquel¡¯s round face. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Mind your business, I¡¯ll mind mine.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Raquel snarled.

    ¡°Glad that¡¯s settled.¡± He stretched and loosed an exaggerated yawn. ¡°Think I¡¯ll take a nap myself.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sixteen. Shouldn¡¯t you be out job-hunting or chasing after girls who are allergic to you?¡± Raquel asked, trying to bounce back by getting the last word.

    ¡°Whatever.¡± Rodrigo went up to his room. He wasn¡¯t tired, he just wanted to get away from his obnoxious sister. Carlito was already snoring, so he had to be quiet. He took a seat at his computer desk, cluttered with incomplete homework assignments, textbooks on military history throughout the ages, and odds and ends he was selling online. Hanging off a pair of nails in the pine green wall above it, were two gold fencing medals from the Y10 and Y12 saber national championships. They hung there surrounded by open space, as if in mockery of what could have been, but even years later, he didn¡¯t have the heart to take them down. Enrolling him in the sport when he was seven was probably the most interest his father had ever taken in him.

    Returning his attention to the monitor, out of curiosity, he googled news stories about an assault in the subway. It had been over an hour, so if what he thought he saw actually happened, word should have gotten out by now. Unless it was a murder and the masked man somehow hid the homeless guy¡¯s body. But moving a corpse in the middle of the day...that was ridiculous. Right?

    Next, he searched for what the text message had said. There were no exact or even close matches, so that ruled out it being some pointless chain letter. What it led to was funeral talk and the latest doomsday theories. Everything he came across sounded absurd. On the many forums he visited, they talked about the machines taking over, a zombie apocalypse, and even perishing in hellfire. The only one that ever held any water to Rodrigo was volatile world leaders destroying them all in nuclear warfare. Still, there had been doomsayers since the beginning of time, yet the earth continued to spin.

    Raquel barged into the room after a while.

    Not for the first time, Rodrigo cursed his door¡¯s lack of a lock. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s dinnertime. You idiots have been doing a whole lotta nothing up here for hours.¡±

    In disbelief, he pulled back his window shade and glanced outside. It was already as dark as midnight. He had lost track of time as he sifted through information.

    Raquel snatched a blue handball off Rodrigo¡¯s dresser, used more by him as a stress ball than for play recently, and lobbed it across the room at the back of Carlito¡¯s head.

    He shot up in his bed with a cry, then rubbed the spot where the ball had struck him. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? Do you get your kicks from bullying kids smaller than you?¡±

    ¡°Nope. That¡¯s a treat reserved just for you,¡± Raquel said in her fake sweet voice. ¡°Can we head downstairs now? Unlike you truants, I ate cafeteria food, not a nice Chinese meal.¡±

    After making their way down the steps, the three of them entered the dining room. As he did daily for the last five-and-a-half years, the first thing Rodrigo noticed was his father¡¯s empty chair at the head of the rectangular table. Edward¡¯s mysterious job as a researcher had kept him away from home a lot, but brought in enough cash it supported the entire family. He left suddenly and without explanation a day in June when Rodrigo was eleven. They only discussed the remaining chair once, shortly after it became vacant.

    ¡°Mom, why are we still using five chairs?¡± Rodrigo had asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping it there until Edward comes back.¡±

    ¡°I thought Dad ditched us.¡±

    ¡°Daddy wouldn¡¯t do that, dum-dum!¡± a seven-year-old Raquel yelled.

    ¡°Ignore your brother, honey. He¡¯ll be back soon,¡± Miriam said.

    That was when Rodrigo made the grave mistake of striding over to his father¡¯s chair and plopping himself down in it. ¡°Until then, I guess that makes me the man of the¡ª¡±

    A stainless-steel ladle, still wet with chunky salsa, lashed out, smacking him hard across the face. Miriam had it raised over his head, ready to hit him again. ¡°Get out of that seat, you little parasite. Now!¡±

    Being the first time either parent struck him, Rodrigo had been stunned as sauce and blood trickled down his forehead. Future occurrences would teach him if not for Carlito¡¯s well-timed bawling, his mother would have happily continued.

    ¡°Boy, will you quit standing there looking stupid and sit down?¡± Miriam asked now. With her dark hair disheveled and the deep bags under her eyes, she looked more worn out than usual. Ever since Edward¡¯s disappearance, she had worked a string of dead-end jobs, which she inevitably quit or got fired from for various reasons.

    He took his place at the table next to Carlito and across from Raquel. The farthest seat from his mother.

    The bland yellow rice with broiled chicken she had prepared was eaten quietly, except for Raquel babbling on about her day, which Rodrigo was only half-listening to. ¡°I got a weird text telling me to go to that creepy tower tomorrow at noon for the answer, but I never asked a question.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s fork missed the chicken he was stabbing for, clinking against his plate. He raised his eyes from the soulless food he was staring at to meet hers. ¡°What? Who from?¡±

    ¡°It was an unknown number. What¡¯s got you so pumped up, anyway?¡±

    For once, there was no benefit in lying to her. ¡°I got a strange text from an unknown number, too.¡±

    ¡°Probably one of your moron friends trying to be funny. They¡¯ll get bored after we don¡¯t respond.¡±

    That theory didn¡¯t add up. Rodrigo could count his friends on one hand, and none of them had his sister¡¯s number. It could have been one of his cousins, but neither of them had the temperament for a subtle gag like this. Still, the Spiral was nearby and tomorrow was Saturday. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll check it out, just to make sure it¡¯s a joke.¡±

    ¡°Sounds interesting,¡± Carlito said. ¡°I¡¯m coming, too.¡±

    ¡°We all know Rodrigo¡¯s headed nowhere in life, but aren¡¯t you supposed to be the brains?¡± Raquel asked. ¡°Ever hear of stranger danger?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be two of us and daytime.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯ll stop ¡®em,¡± Raquel muttered, rolling her eyes.

    Raquel¡¯s shooting holes in their plans was all to provoke Miriam into joining the conversation. ¡°Rodrigo, I couldn¡¯t care less what you do, but you¡¯re not taking Carlito anywhere near that tower.¡±

    ¡°Mom, all that stuff about the disappearing bodies is an urban legend. I¡¯ve been there hundreds of times. Nothing¡¯s gonna happen to him.¡±

    ¡°Keep pushing me, boy, and you won¡¯t leave this house for the entire break,¡± Miriam said, her voice hard. She shoved away from the table, the legs of her chair scraping across the floor, and rose. Then she left the room, the matter settled as far as she was concerned.

    Raquel had that slight look of regret she always got whenever her instigation escalated things further than anticipated, yet as usual, her guilt would be short-lived.

    Rodrigo said nothing as he took his mother¡¯s half-eaten plate and his empty one into the kitchen to get started on the dishes.

    After everyone finished eating, Rodrigo and Carlito remained in the living room.

    The instant Raquel¡¯s door slammed shut on the second floor, Carlito asked, ¡°So, when are we sneaking out?¡±

 Chapter 2 - The Spiral

    Rodrigo raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a smile. He wasn¡¯t sure whether his bad habits were rubbing off on the kid, or if his brother just knew his thought process that well. ¡°Leaving now¡¯s our best bet. Mom looked dead tired. If she went to bed this early, no way she¡¯ll sleep in tomorrow.¡±

    Carlito frowned. ¡°What¡¯s the point? Whoever sent the messages won¡¯t be there.¡±

    Though Raquel had been a killjoy at dinner, she was right. If this wasn¡¯t someone they knew playing an elaborate prank, then some creep had gotten Rodrigo and his sister¡¯s cell numbers to lure them to a remote location. Maybe it was some black market trader trying to harvest their organs or something. Regardless, he wasn¡¯t about to risk getting his brother hurt, or worse, playing Sherlock Holmes.

    ¡°If nothing else, you can see the place I¡¯ve been telling you about all these years,¡± Rodrigo said, and Carlito perked up. ¡°All right, so we¡¯re going straight out the front, but we¡¯ve got to be stealthy. Even if she¡¯s awake, Mom won¡¯t be a problem up on the third floor. Raquel hears anything suspicious, and she¡¯ll go off like a smoke alarm.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t get caught before we solve this mystery.¡±

    As usual, Carlito was getting excited by the idea of the unknown. It was probably because of how rarely his intellect was challenged. Even after skipping the fifth grade and going straight into middle school, maintaining top marks required little effort from him.

    They threw on their jackets and gloves before Rodrigo turned the TV on to hide their absence. He set the volume at a level that could be heard from upstairs, but wouldn¡¯t disturb anyone enough to come down. Rodrigo put his finger to his lips, then pointed toward the hallway, indicating for Carlito to tread lightly to avoid the floorboards¡¯ habitual creaking.

    Carlito nodded. Then dashed into the hall and out the door, causing what sounded like a jackhammer in the previous quiet.

    As Rodrigo opened the front door and went outside, he felt the chilly breeze of the night on his face. He locked the door and walked away from it.

    ¡°Dude, what did you think this meant?¡± Rodrigo asked, repeating the motion.

    Carlito shrugged. ¡°Full speed ahead? Why? Do you think Raquel heard?¡±

    ¡°With her bat-like hearing, and you running like you were trying to escape an axe murderer? Yeah, I¡¯d say her snitch-sense is tingling.¡± Rodrigo laughed. Maybe he gave the ten-year-old¡¯s intelligence too much credit. ¡°We¡¯ll have to work on our signals. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    It took them about ten minutes to get to the Spiral. The tower had a menacing appearance to it. Constructed out of rusting black steel and with a high arch at its base, it might have resembled a scaled-down Eiffel Tower. But there was also a long circular staircase surrounding the tower that led up to the top. The guardrail reached only to a person¡¯s waist. A chain-link fence with strands of coiled barbed wire sealed off the tower to the public, but someone had cut a hole in the back years ago.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Carlito said, staring up in awe with his bright green eyes.

    ¡°Yeah, not much else you can say when you first see it up close.¡±

    ¡°How, um...high is it?¡±

    ¡°A few hundred feet. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re scared now?¡±

    ¡°Kinda.¡±

    ¡°I was afraid the first time I climbed it, too, but like anything, after you do it once, it¡¯s way easier. There¡¯s nothing to fear,¡± Rodrigo said as he pushed the spot of the fence where the hole was cut inward and let Carlito crawl through.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t this illegal, bro? I mean, we¡¯re trespassing, aren¡¯t we?¡± Carlito asked.

    ¡°I doubt anyone cares. This isn¡¯t a cell tower. It¡¯s been abandoned for a long time.¡± Rodrigo followed behind his brother and brushed the dirt from his own jeans as he got to his feet. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll bring up the rear in case you lose your footing.¡±

    Carlito puffed out his puny chest, gathering his courage. ¡°Just don¡¯t rush me.¡±

    When they got to the halfway point in the winding steps, Carlito was white-knuckling the rail and looking over the edge as he moved. Maybe bringing him was a bad idea.

    ¡°Need a hand?¡± Rodrigo teased, only half-joking as he reached out for his brother.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a baby,¡± Carlito snapped, though continued shaking.

    ¡°Then keep it up. You¡¯re almost there.¡±

    As they made it to the tower¡¯s summit, Carlito seemed to forget his terror as he looked around. With all the twinkling Christmas lights decorating people¡¯s homes, the view was even more impressive than usual. ¡°No wonder you come up here so much. You can see all the buildings in the neighborhood.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s definitely part of its appeal,¡± Rodrigo said. ¡°And on nights when the moon¡¯s full, the neighborhood earns its name. But seeing how small everything and everyone is really helps me put my own drama into perspective.¡±

    After they took it in for a bit longer, Carlito checked his phone. ¡°It¡¯s 8:03. We better go before...¡±

    ¡°Before what?¡±

    Carlito didn¡¯t respond.

    Rodrigo turned to face him. ¡°Carlito? What¡¯s wrong?¡± He grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him more roughly than he intended. There was no reaction at all. His eyes were unblinking and his lips were still parted, frozen in mid-speech like his brain had malfunctioned.

    Just as he was on the verge of panic, Rodrigo noticed an elderly man suddenly standing only a few feet away. Dressed in a wine-red tuxedo with three coattails, he had graying hair poking out from under his top hat, and held a spherical, black-and-gold pot in his arms. More shocking than anything else, however, were his eyes. Though he was about a head shorter than the masked man from the subway, their eyes were identical.

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    ¡°W-who are you? Have you been following me?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Who I am is irrelevant. All that matters is the gift I am presenting you with today.¡±

    He balled his fists at his sides. ¡°What the hell did you do to my brother?¡±

    ¡°I assure you, nothing long-term or harm¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then fix him!¡± Rodrigo demanded, putting aside the impossibility of Carlito¡¯s condition.

    At the interruption, a fierce look crossed the old-timer¡¯s face that made Rodrigo flinch back. It was like he was a hairsbreadth from exploding into violence, but it was gone as he spoke again. ¡°As long as you comply and take this urn.¡±

    Finally, Rodrigo collected himself enough to put two and two together. ¡°You¡¯re the one who sent me and my sister those cryptic texts?¡±

    ¡°How observant,¡± the man said dryly. ¡°Come now, the truth is you came here, hoping to encounter me. Humans in this age live brief, monotonous lives and are therefore always seeking excitement. Here is your opportunity to rise out of the muck of mankind. An escape from your hollow existence!¡±

    The old man was getting more riled up as he went on. If not for the stunt he pulled on Carlito, Rodrigo would think he was trying to indoctrinate him into a cult. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re on about, but if I touch this thing, you¡¯ll turn my brother back to normal?¡±

    ¡°You have my word,¡± the man said as he placed the urn at his feet and backed away as far as the small platform allowed.

    Rodrigo squatted to study it. Honestly, this was the shadiest situation he¡¯d ever been roped into. Something was clearly inside this thing, though he was guessing it wasn¡¯t as sensible as ashes. His instincts were screaming out for him to grab his brother and run. He might have listened to them if the man told him to open the urn, but what harm could touching the exterior with gloves on do?

    As soon as his hands made contact with the urn, the lid popped off and into the air. He tried to scamper back as a cloudlike crimson substance shot out of it, but it slammed into him before he could move an inch. An immense pressure hit every part of his body, more draining than painful. And it felt...spiteful. His vision blurred as he lost his balance.

    A laugh rang through Rodrigo¡¯s skull that came from neither the old man nor Carlito, right before he fell to the ground.

    #

    When Rodrigo awoke, he was lying flat on his stomach, his face buried in a pillow. Every muscle he had was aching, like when he¡¯d gone door to door last month, shoveling his neighbors¡¯ sidewalks after a snowstorm to earn cash. With a groan, he pushed himself up so he could look around. He was in his room, sunlight breaking through the shades. Across from him, Carlito was snoring in his own bed, as he did every morning.

    Just a dream. Rodrigo closed his eyes, letting his head sink back into the pillow.

    ¡°Unacceptable,¡± a voice said in disgust.

    Rodrigo¡¯s head shot back up, like it was attached to a bungee cord. His eyes darted around the room, seeking the source. He¡¯d heard the word loud and clear, as if someone had spoken directly into his ear. But other than he and Carlito, there was no one in sight.

    ¡°These living quarters would be unsuitable for one of my servants, let alone myself.¡±

    ¡°W-who¡¯s there?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Evidently, I am not out there.¡±

    That¡¯s when Rodrigo thought he understood. To confirm his suspicion, he clamped his palms over his ears.

    ¡°Caught on at last, have we?¡± the voice asked, its volume unaffected.

    ¡°Who...are you?¡±

    ¡°You are irritating me, human. Stop addressing me aloud. I am communicating with you through your mind. I suggest you do the same.¡± Although the voice used the word ¡°suggest,¡± it sounded every bit like a command.

    ¡°So, who are you?¡± Rodrigo repeated as a conscious thought.

    ¡°I am Resent, the Prince of Hell.¡±

    ¡°W-what do you mean ¡®Prince of Hell?¡¯¡±

    Resent scoffed. ¡°You humans seem under the illusion it is where those you deem wicked are sentenced to after death. I have been in your world for less than a day, yet it is already apparent how self-important and ignorant you all are.¡±

    Rodrigo smiled. He was obviously half-asleep and caught in a weird lucid dream, so he played along with the so-called prince. ¡°Okay, so if you¡¯re the Prince of Hell, does that make you, or your dad, the Devil? I¡¯ve heard him called the Prince of Dark¡ª¡±

    ¡°The Devil is another myth concocted by you people. My father was the king until his murder.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that make you the king?¡±

    ¡°I should have been. Instead, I was blamed for his death and ambushed by my traitorous royal guard, the Brutes. Their leader, a demon named Misery, defeated me through a fluke. Now, enough of this inquisition. Feed me!¡±

    Dream or not, the way the demon¡¯s rising voice caused Rodrigo¡¯s head to throb was unnerving. ¡°All right, no need to be rude. I do want more answers if I ever hear from you again, though.¡±

    ¡°What madness are you spouting? You became my slave the moment you touched that damn urn I was recuperating in. You shall get answers when and if I deign to give them.¡±

    Rodrigo was feeling pretty starved. This demon business must have been his subconscious¡¯ long-winded way of expressing his hunger. He got up, stretched, and shook himself fully awake before going over to Carlito¡¯s bed and giving his shoulder a nudge.

    As he crawled out from under the layers of blankets, Carlito rubbed the crust from his eyes. Then he looked up at Rodrigo with a wide grin. ¡°Bro, I had the craziest dream about us climbing the Spiral.¡±

    Rodrigo froze. What were the odds of them having the same dream on the same night? ¡°Y-yeah, right. Like I¡¯d ever take you there.¡±

    ¡°Why not? It was awesome. We went all the way to the top.¡±

    ¡°Then what happened?¡±

    Carlito¡¯s face screwed up in concentration. ¡°I woke up.¡±

    ¡°Oh well. I¡¯m sure something cool would have happened next.¡±

    ¡°Human, cease wasting my time with idle chatter, and procure something to eat. I refuse to tell you again.¡±

    Rodrigo shot out of the room and down the hall. Carlito was calling after him, but he ignored him as he entered the bathroom. After locking the door behind him, he splashed cold water from the sink on his face.

    ¡°Oh, I see. You appeared quite receptive at first, but you were simply in denial.¡±

    ¡°I thought¡­¡± Rodrigo drew a deep breath, barely keeping himself from yelling aloud. ¡°I thought I was dreaming.¡±

    ¡°How naive of me to expect anything more from your kind. Allow me to clarify. This is no dream. It is your new reality.¡±

 Chapter 3 â€“ Prince Of Hell

    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure what to say, or if he should even respond to the voice at all.

    ¡°You okay in there, bro?¡± Carlito asked from outside the bathroom door.

    ¡°Uh, yeah. Just had the runs. Go down without me.¡± Maybe all those blows to the head from his mother had finally knocked a screw loose, but if not, he shouldn¡¯t be scaring his family.

    Rodrigo looked in the mirror. For some reason, he was dressed in different clothes than he had left the house in. And while he was no stranger to waking with bed head, his hair seemed as if he had spent the night in a hurricane. Also, the overhead light must have been on the fritz, because he could swear he was seeing blue flecks in his black hair.

    With a trembling hand, he opened the medicine cabinet to grab one of his plastic combs. As he combed his hair forward in silence, a daily ritual usually preceded by a shower, he felt himself calming. Maybe if he didn¡¯t acknowledge the voice, it would go away.

    Once he had his hair straightened into the Caesar style he favored, he left the bathroom and jogged down the stairs to the living room. His mother was nowhere in sight, but Raquel and Carlito were sitting on the couch watching TV.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Mom?¡± Rodrigo asked, already having a good idea.

    ¡°Out,¡± Raquel said. ¡°Didn¡¯t leave anything for lunch, either.¡±

    Even on weekends, their mother leapt at any excuse to avoid taking care of Rodrigo and his siblings. It made him feel more like a teen dad than an older brother. However, what worried him more was it was 12:30, and he remembered nothing after touching the urn at around 8:00 yesterday.

    ¡°You lost consciousness when I took control. That is why you remember nothing,¡± Resent said, as if reading his thoughts.

    ¡°Oh crap, you really are a demon. You¡¯re after my soul, aren¡¯t you? I don¡¯t care what you offer me, you can¡¯t have it!¡±

    ¡°What are you raving about, fool? Your soul is worthless to me.¡±

    ¡°Well...what do you mean by took control?¡±

    ¡°I refuse to answer further questions until I am presented with a proper meal.¡±

    ¡°You would be pretty mad if I went on a hunger strike, now wouldn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Heh. As if it matters. Demons require no nourishment to survive. Like sleep, food is merely an indulgence for us.¡±

    ¡°So, what are we eating?¡± Raquel asked, pulling Rodrigo out of his internal nightmare.

    ¡°Anybody got a problem with pizza?¡±

    ¡°Nope. I¡¯ll go with you,¡± Carlito said.

    Rodrigo grabbed his jacket that someone had placed on the coat rack by the door. He fished his leather wallet out of the pocket and peeked inside. He had a whopping thirty bucks to his name.

    Outside, seconds after Rodrigo locked the door, Carlito said, ¡°Raquel knows we sneaked out yesterday. She¡¯s going to blackmail us with it.¡±

    ¡°Ah, she never fails to give us something to look forward to.¡±

    ¡°Forget that. Why¡¯d you lie to me?¡±

    ¡°Listen, I¡¯m hazy on the details myself. We¡¯ll talk about it when we get back.¡±

    As they were walking the two blocks, Rodrigo could tell Carlito had a bunch of questions, but he contained himself.

    Once the brothers entered the small pizzeria, two older teens shifted their gazes toward them from their table in the corner by the exposed brick wall. They were sitting there with their hoods pulled up and sipping soft drinks through plastic straws. One was tall and slim, wearing just enough black and yellow to imply he was a Latin King, while leaving himself room for deniability. His friend with the nasty scowl was shorter, broader at the shoulders and with bigger arms, like a gym rat.

    Carlito was oblivious to their attention, pressing his face against the glass they displayed the pizzas behind, as if trying to sniff past it.

    As they returned to their spirited debate about who the hottest girl in their school was, Rodrigo put them out of mind and approached the counter. ¡°Hey, can I get a large pie?¡±

    Ten minutes later, when the steaming pie was lifted out of the oven on the wooden peel and lowered into the white and red cardboard box, he paid the man $15, and took the pizza.

    A moment after Rodrigo went outside with Carlito, he heard the chime as the door swung open again. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the teens exit the pizzeria. Neither of them was carrying anything. The pair were tailing them, and the cynic in Rodrigo could only assume they planned to rob them in broad daylight. He was on the verge of picking up his pace when he noticed his brother strolling along. ¡°Speed up.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Despite his intellect, Carlito was still too innocent to grasp how senselessly cruel people could be.

    ¡°Just do it,¡± Rodrigo said, his voice a harsh whisper.

    ¡°Yo, kid, hold up,¡± the wannabe gangster called from behind them.

    Rodrigo could make a break for it, but Carlito was a foot shorter than him. When his brother got caught, he¡¯d be at their mercy to get him back safely. He took a steadying breath before turning around with a neutral expression, and injecting some bass into his voice. ¡°Yeah? What¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you let us take that pizza off your hands?¡± the gym rat asked, as if they¡¯d be doing Rodrigo a favor. The whole time, he and his friend edged closer.

    ¡°Carlito, go home. Now!¡±

    His brother stood rooted to the spot, glancing from person to person, his eyes wide with uncomprehending fear. By the time he moved, the gym rat grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and held him still. ¡°Where do ya think you¡¯re going, little man?¡±

    As much as Rodrigo wanted to do the reasonable thing and comply, seeing the way Carlito shrank into himself at the thug¡¯s touch made his heart thump in his ears like a drum solo. He learned from a young age there was no such thing as a fair fight. Size, numbers, or even weapons. Someone always had an advantage, innate or manufactured. But to take a kid hostage...

    Hoping his face didn¡¯t betray the rage boiling within him, Rodrigo handed the wannabe the pizza box.

    ¡°And run your pockets, too. I know you got a phone,¡± the wannabe said, his lips split in an ugly smile as he loomed over Rodrigo, trying to intimidate him with the height difference.

    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± Rodrigo said meekly as he reached for his cell with his right hand. Then he drove his left fist up into the wannabe¡¯s chin, causing him to drop the pizza on the ground as his head snapped back. His smile was gone as he staggered away. But Rodrigo wouldn¡¯t let him get the distance to put his significant reach advantage to use.

    He was about to really lay into the wannabe when Carlito cried out, stopping him dead.

    ¡°Ay, chill out, karate kid, or I break his arm,¡± the gym rat threatened, clenching Carlito¡¯s arm as a warning.

    Rodrigo lowered his hands to his sides. Jesus. What was he doing letting his temper get the better of him at the expense of his brother?

    The wannabe wiped the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie. ¡°We just wanted your shit. But you wanna pull a bitch move like that? Aight.¡± He punched Rodrigo in the gut hard enough to make him double over in pain before lifting him onto his toes by his shirt. ¡°Not so tough now, are you, punk-ass?¡±

    Rodrigo gave no response. Impossibly, he felt disconnected from the entire situation.

    Seeing Rodrigo¡¯s glassy eyes, the idea he was zoning out on him seemed to piss the wannabe off further. ¡°Think I won¡¯t beat you like I¡¯m your pops cuz you¡¯re a kid? Swear on my ma¡¯s life, I¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± Resent yelled, bashing the point of Rodrigo¡¯s elbow into the thug¡¯s nose with brutal speed. Before the wannabe even hit the ground, Resent spun and kicked the gym rat¡¯s knee inward with enough force that it cracked. He lost his grip on Carlito and collapsed, screaming.

    Rodrigo couldn¡¯t believe it. He was still seeing through his own eyes, but Resent was in control of his body. Glimpsing his reflection on a tinted car window sent him deeper into shock. In a split-second, he had transformed. His hair had somehow spiked up on the top and sides as if lifted by an invisible force, while flaring downward and out in the back. His pupils narrowed into vertical slits, and his irises had turned purple. The smirk on his face radiated superiority and a savage glee at the opportunity to hurt someone.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Brat,¡± Resent said in a voice that was a blend between Rodrigo¡¯s and the deeper voice Resent spoke with in his head.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Carlito asked, startled by the difference in Rodrigo¡¯s tone and demeanor.

    ¡°Retrieve the food and return home. Do not dare begin eating until I arrive. Understand?¡±

    Carlito nodded, picked up the pizza, and ran.

    Rodrigo tried to follow him, but like a marionette being worked by a puppeteer, his body was obeying Resent. The wannabe started to get to his feet, but the prince raised his leg straight up and brought the heel of his sneaker down on his skull. His jaw struck the concrete with a bone-shattering crunch.

    The gym rat tried to stand, wincing as his busted knee failed to support him. As Resent approached him, he threw his hands up in surrender, fat teardrops rolling down his face. ¡°Come on, man, I¡¯m sorry. P-please, just stop.¡±

    Resent barked a laugh as he smashed his knee into the gym rat¡¯s nose, crushing it in a spurt of blood. The blow sent him flying back several meters, and he hit the ground hard. Rodrigo was wondering whether the guy was even still alive, when Resent continued forward. They were scumbags, but kicking them while they were down would be going overboard.

    ¡°Resent, stop. They¡¯re done.¡±

    ¡°They forfeited their lives once they dared lay a hand on me. Besides, the warm-up I had last night did not suffice.¡±

    Rodrigo didn¡¯t even want to know what that meant. ¡°Why don¡¯t we go home so you can eat that delicious pizza?¡±

    Resent paused, seeming to mull it over before walking away from the bloodied thugs with a sigh. ¡°Never let it be said I am incapable of magnanimity.¡±

    His pupils returned to their round shape, and his irises shifted to the color hazel. When his hair fell back down, Rodrigo was in control again. It took him a moment to come to grips with what had happened. Now that Carlito had interacted with Resent, the prince¡¯s existence was undeniable. Despite all the problems this was sure to bring, at least he wasn¡¯t crazy.

    Rodrigo started speed walking home. Though the consequences were the furthest thing from his mind as he was watching Resent dish out instant karma, now he could think of nothing else. Through some miracle, no one seemed to have witnessed what had happened, and his neighborhood wasn¡¯t the kind with security cameras on every block. But those two might need an ambulance. And that meant police.

    When he got home, the pizza was warmed up and waiting on the table, untouched, as Resent instructed. Raquel and Carlito were seated around it with three paper plates set out. Rodrigo took off his jacket, hung it on the back of his chair, and sat down.

    ¡°Hey. Carlito told me what happened. You okay?¡± Raquel asked, speaking with uncharacteristic sympathy.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Rodrigo said. ¡°What exactly did he tell you?¡±

    ¡°He said you guys were walking home when some goons jumped you for the pizza. But you knocked them down...somehow.¡±

    Rodrigo exhaled. He figured Carlito knew better than to fill her in on the specifics, but with such a scary situation, it was impossible to predict how a kid would react. ¡°Pretty much. Don¡¯t worry about it. Let¡¯s just eat.¡±

    They ate without further conversation, though Rodrigo had little appetite after everything that went down.

    ¡°This is beyond my expectations. You have done well, my slave.¡±

    Rodrigo wondered what they ate in Hell since Resent was getting so excited about a regular pizza. ¡°Yeah, well, you owe me some answers, and can we drop the whole slave thing?¡±

    ¡°How many questions do you have, slave?¡±

    Rodrigo sighed. ¡°More than I can count.¡±

    ¡°I shall answer two. Choose wisely.¡±

    ¡°How is it possible for you to control my body?¡±

    ¡°Simple. This is no longer just your body. It belongs to us both now, which means I can take control to bring out its maximum potential whenever the mood strikes me.¡±

    ¡°Can I switch back whenever I want?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Great. So not only could this demon control him at will, but he could shut Rodrigo out of his own body. If Resent took over again, then he might even hurt his family, and Rodrigo would be powerless to stop him.

    ¡°Okay, so who was the man that brought me the urn?¡±

    Resent withheld his answer until Rodrigo took a sizable bite of the slice he was nibbling at. ¡°Heinrik is one of my most loyal subjects. Like many demons, besides a physical aptitude that makes you humans look feeble, he possesses a special ability, or a Flair, to use the proper terminology. He can temporarily halt the movement and thought process of a single being. It is as if time is frozen for that individual while everything around them continues on.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing he used that nifty trick to get my cell number?¡±

    ¡°Impossible to say. While in the urn, I was unaware of events occurring around me, and I do not know what this ¡®cell number¡¯ you speak of is.¡±

    ¡°Any idea why he picked me?¡±

    Before Resent could reply, Miriam lumbered into the house, swearing at the top of her lungs. She stumbled into the dining room and sat down, as her children watched in stunned silence. Slowly, she slumped forward, falling face-first onto the three remaining slices of pizza.

    ¡°Insufferable woman,¡± Resent hissed.

    ¡°Mom, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Carlito asked as he stood up to shake her. He and Raquel had never seen her like this, but the moment she stepped through the door, Rodrigo knew she was wasted. His mother¡¯s alcoholism started shortly after his father left and had only grown worse since. She usually had the decency to sober up before she came home. At worst, she slipped in late enough that Raquel and Carlito were already asleep. Being only a few minutes past 1:00, this was a record for her.

    Rodrigo clapped his hands to take their attention from her. They had both seen enough TV to recognize a drunk. ¡°Okay, guys, Mom¡¯s sick. Carlito, find an empty bucket. Raquel, get a glass of water and some aspirin.¡±

    Both of them hurried off with concerned expressions. Meanwhile, Rodrigo dragged his mother up two flights of stairs as she protested and cursed his help. By the time he had gotten her into her bed, she had passed out.

    Rodrigo left her room and went downstairs to his. He was sitting on his bed when Carlito walked in. Patting the space to his right, he urged his brother to join him. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mom will be fine. She just needs rest. Right now, I need to catch you up.¡±

    When Rodrigo finished recounting everything that had occurred since their trip to the Spiral, Carlito was staring at him like he had lost his mind. ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me a time-stopping demon gave you an urn? And when you touched it, you passed out? Then since this morning you¡¯ve been hearing the voice of the Prince of Hell, Resent?¡±

    Rodrigo was aware of how ridiculous it all sounded. ¡°That¡¯s the gist.¡±

    ¡°All right, so what happened back there with those guys? Why us?¡±

    ¡°They thought we were easy targets. You know how in the shows you watch and the books you read, there¡¯s typically a bad guy, right? The idea is the same in real life, except most are less ambitious. There¡¯s always going to be people who feel like they have some justification to do something wrong. Worst of all are the ones who basically do it because they can.¡±

    Carlito absorbed that in silence. ¡°So, bro, are you a good guy or a bad guy?¡±

    Rodrigo blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s like when you were fighting, you became some kind of monster.¡±

    ¡°That was Resent,¡± Rodrigo said, not mentioning he had thrown the first punch himself.

    ¡°Is that why your eyes turned purple and your hair became porcupine-ish?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Rodrigo couldn¡¯t offer a better explanation. ¡°Carlito. Things might change from here on out, but whatever happens, I promise I¡¯ll always protect you and Raquel. You two come first, over everything and everyone.¡±

    Carlito nodded before leaving the room.

    Rodrigo stretched out on his bed with a yawn. Despite waking up about an hour ago, he was feeling drained. He only meant to relax for a few minutes. Instead, he ended up falling asleep and entering a dream.

    #

    ¡°Heinrik, where is father?¡± asked a boy about Carlito¡¯s age. His lips moved out of sync with his voice, like a badly dubbed foreign-language film. With the unruly midnight blue spikes that made up his hair, and slit-shaped pupils, Rodrigo could tell he was a demon.

    The demon with the top hat, younger than he had been when Rodrigo met him, looked at the youth with pity. ¡°Unfortunately, Prince Resent, he is meeting with the council today.¡±

    They were in a large, circular room lit by blue torchlight. It was spartan other than the books piled up on the floor, and a bizarre collection of small gauntlets lining part of the wall. A few of them still contained the severed hands of their former owners, long since rotted.

    ¡°Ose¡¯s Flair makes him the ideal sparring partner for physical combat,¡± Resent said. ¡°But how am I to rule if not properly trained in using my birthright?¡±

    ¡°Your father understands. That is why he has assigned you a mentor.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    As if on cue, in came a tall demon, whose size was only accentuated by the heavy black armor that covered his entire body below the neck. His dark green hair was bound in a long ponytail and might have looked mildly absurd on anyone else.

    Heinrik stepped aside. ¡°I believe he needs no introduction.¡±

    ¡°Misery, are you not supposed to be available to exterminate pests unworthy of my father¡¯s efforts?¡± Resent asked.

    If the words insulted Misery, he didn¡¯t show it, though it could have been because his eyes lacked pupils or irises, and were an unreadable white. ¡°Yes, but training you is of greater import for the time being. I warn you now, my prince, it will be more challenging than anything you have experienced thus far.¡±

    ¡°How much stronger will it make me?¡±

    ¡°Possibly more so than your father in due time.¡±

    ¡°Then I shall do it. After all, one day the crown will be mine.¡±

    It embarrassed Rodrigo how long it took him to realize this wasn¡¯t his dream. It was Resent¡¯s. He knew they shared a body, but he never thought they¡¯d be sharing dreams, too.

    #

    ¡°Get up, slave. Now!¡± Resent shouted, pulling Rodrigo out of it.

    When Rodrigo roused, the smell of his neighbors having one of their Saturday night barbecues filled his nostrils. Or so he thought until he noticed how oppressively hot it was in his room. Drowsy, he got to his feet and trudged over to the door. As he opened it and looked into his hallway, he saw smoke and flames everywhere.

 Chapter 4 â€“ The Inferno

    ¡°Fire!¡± Rodrigo yelled, like it might be news to someone other than himself. His voice was drowned out by the frantic beeping of three different smoke detectors, one on each level. The Prince of Hell had stormed into his life just yesterday, and now Rodrigo¡¯s home was an inferno to accommodate him.

    He doubled back into his room and tore the comforter from his brother¡¯s bed. Carlito wasn¡¯t there, so hopefully he was with Raquel.

    ¡°How did this start?¡± Rodrigo demanded.

    ¡°I awoke only seconds before yourself.¡±

    ¡°So much for not needing sleep.¡± He left his room and ran down the hallway, baffled at how he dozed through this chaos.

    ¡°I do not, but being holed up in this body means I must abide by its limitations.¡±

    The fire extinguisher was downstairs, under the kitchen sink. But as the dense smoke in the air assaulted Rodrigo¡¯s lungs and sent him into a coughing fit, he decided to leave the firefighting to the firefighters. They had to be on their way by now.

    He shoved open the garish pink door of Raquel¡¯s room, then jumped back as bright orange flames exploded to life, shattering her windows and blowing out of them like from the mouth of a dragon. Thankfully, the room was empty.

    ¡°They have likely exited the building by this point. Follow suit before you get us both killed,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°No! I have to make sure they¡¯re safe.¡±

    Resent stayed quiet, but it was clear his patience was waning. At any moment, the demon might force Rodrigo to leave by taking control.

    He left Raquel¡¯s room and rushed up to his mother¡¯s on the third floor. As he pushed open the door, exerting caution this time in fear of another backdraft, he saw them. Together, Raquel and Carlito were dragging their unconscious mother along the floor by her thick ankles. In a misguided effort to protect her from the fire, they had bundled her up in the comforter she had been sleeping under.

    Rodrigo ran to them and yanked their hands off her. ¡°I¡¯ve got her. Get out of here!¡±

    Carlito¡¯s face creased into a worried frown. ¡°Bro, I¡¯m not sure you can lift¡ª¡±

    ¡°I can. Now, go!¡±

    Raquel pulled a hesitant Carlito out the door.

    As he heard their feet stamping down the steps, Rodrigo took a knee and shook his mother as hard as he could. He figured his siblings had already tried waking her, but her being comatose was unbelievable. Had she finally gotten alcohol poisoning, or had she chosen today to upgrade to something harder? Either way, they needed to get moving.

    With a grunt, Rodrigo put his mother on his back, wrapping his arms under her thighs and leaning forward slightly so she wouldn¡¯t fall off. He reached the top of the second-floor staircase before his strength gave out. Regularly climbing the hundreds of steps to the Spiral¡¯s summit had reinforced the muscles in his legs built by fencing¡¯s grueling footwork from his childhood, but his arms were still scrawny. And though he was slightly taller, she outweighed him by a few dozen pounds. The fire robbing him of oxygen didn¡¯t help.

    ¡°Pitiful,¡± Resent said, taking over. Sprinting down the stairs quicker than Rodrigo could have empty-handed, Resent made it to the front door in seconds, then returned control.

    After getting outside, Rodrigo crossed the street and nearly dropped his mother on the sidewalk as he took gulps of fresh air. There were no fire trucks in sight, and the neighbors were just coming out of their homes to gawk.

    Carlito was coughing and rubbing his eyes furiously.

    ¡°When and how did this start?¡± Rodrigo asked Raquel.

    In a hoarse voice, she said, ¡°I just smelled it, like, two minutes ago while we were checking on Mom. Didn¡¯t you hear us calling you?¡±

    ¡°How could it spread so fast?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°This was an assassination attempt. And our would-be executioner is on your rooftop.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s eyes shot up. There, he saw the man in the hooded trench coat from the subway. He wore that same gold mask, staring down at him and waving, as if greeting an old friend. Rodrigo took a sidelong glance at Raquel and Carlito. They were both looking at the house, yet amazingly, didn¡¯t notice the man. Whether it was because of their panic or temporary blindness from the smoke, Rodrigo wasn¡¯t about to mention him.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    He dug into the pocket of the jeans he had fallen asleep in, glad to find his phone there, and handed it to Raquel. ¡°Guys, go to Mrs. Martinez¡¯s and tell her to call 911.¡±

    He watched them run a few houses over and start talking to a concerned Mrs. Martinez on her stoop. If nothing else, at least they were relatively safe with that tough old woman.

    His attention returned to the roof. Sure enough, the man was still there. Now he was actually beckoning him over.

    Rodrigo¡¯s good sense succumbed to his rising temper, and he ran back inside his burning house. Everything around him was ablaze, yet between obstructing his vision and the tightness it caused in his chest, the smoke would be what killed him. As he was running up the stairs to the second floor, a beam of smoldering wood collapsed in front of him. He winced, feeling the heat the beam was giving off against his back as he crawled under it and continued to the third. In the hallway, the ceiling hatch was already open.

    Rodrigo climbed the ladder to the roof, which, mercifully, was flat. Though the surface was hot enough it felt like the soles of his sneakers might liquefy, somehow the flames hadn¡¯t reached this high yet. The suffocating heat had made him sweat through his shirt, so he rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, not daring to take his eyes off the man long enough to remove it.

    After catching his breath, Rodrigo asked, ¡°W-who are you and what are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°You can call me Flint. I¡¯m just appreciating a beautiful fire,¡± the man said. Then he stretched out a gloved hand and gestured in a circular motion. The flames from the house soared upward, surrounding them and cutting off the view of any onlookers. Those creepy red eyes were evidence enough, but that settled it. This was yet another demon.

    Rodrigo swallowed, his throat drier than it had ever been. ¡°You...you killed that homeless man in the subway, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Flint¡¯s mask smothered a soft laugh. ¡°Oh, you noticed that, huh? I thought I was rather discreet. But then, you also picked up on my presence in your house yesterday, at least briefly. Those are some keen senses you¡¯ve got there.¡±

    ¡°In my house¡­¡± Rodrigo trailed off as he remembered the single squeak one empty stair gave shortly after he¡¯d come home. ¡°You followed me? Why? Why are you doing this?¡±

    It was a rambling string of questions born of fear, to delay the inevitable. And from the way Flint¡¯s stare narrowed as he stood there cocking his head, he thought so, too. When the demon pointed at his wrist, as if on a tight schedule and his victim was the one inconveniencing him, Rodrigo lost it.

    He was in mid-charge, planning to tackle Flint, when Resent took over. He ducked under the hand that shot out for Rodrigo¡¯s throat with whip-like speed and swept Flint¡¯s feet out from under him. Before Flint could recover, Resent pinned him to the roof with his left forearm. With his right hand, he rained down punches on Flint¡¯s mask that were so fast Rodrigo couldn¡¯t follow them. From the thud of the blows landing, despite its sheen, the mask wasn¡¯t steel, yet Resent couldn¡¯t make a dent. The skin on his knuckles came away torn and bloody.

    Only when Flint was about to slam a small scarlet fireball he had created into the side of Resent¡¯s face, did he jump backward. Darker than the rest of the flames, after leaving his hand, the fireball arced through the air and smashed into the roof. It melted through the concrete and the wooden floors beneath, delving deeper until it reached the earth at the house¡¯s foundation.

    The masked demon rose and dusted himself off.

    Seeing how the attack had eaten through the building, Rodrigo could only imagine the lethal damage it would do to flesh and bone. ¡°This is crazy. He¡¯s a living flamethrower!¡±

    ¡°Cease whining and be silent.¡±

    Suddenly a black mist tinged with purple appeared in Resent¡¯s hands. With his fingers curled like claws, he extended his left arm, overlapping at the wrist with his right. The mist launched forward with outrageous speed. ¡°Let us see how he fares against my nebulae.¡±

    The things Resent called nebulae counter-rotated around Flint from bottom to top, until they converged at the center, merging into a single form about ten feet tall. His eyes widened as he disappeared from sight, the twister engulfing him as it emitted a ghastly low moaning.

    ¡°Tell me you got him,¡± Rodrigo begged.

    ¡°Not quite.¡±

    In a matter of seconds, fire overcame the twister and exploded outward. Through the resulting smoke, flames rippled along the roof, too fast for Resent to dodge, so the nebulae shielded him. The flames clashed with the nebulae, struggling against them for a moment. But soon enough, they burst through the prince¡¯s defense. The impact knocked him down, smacked his head into the concrete, and sent him skidding along the rooftop.

    Rodrigo was forced back into control, and the pain came rushing at him. It was the accumulation of every wound Resent had received from Flint¡¯s last attack. Wounds, which he had somehow not felt when they were inflicted, now left him lightheaded and unable to stand.

    Through the blood leaking into his eyes from his forehead, he could see Flint, unharmed, saunter over with a shrug. ¡°He wasn¡¯t as strong as I¡¯d hoped.¡±

    If this thing could beat Resent, Rodrigo didn¡¯t have a prayer. Knowing the flames had him boxed in with no possibility of escape, he crawled for the hatch. Following this insane turn of events, retreating into the crumbling ruins of his house seemed the safest option.

    Flint kicked him in the ribs and Rodrigo wheezed as he felt at least one crack. Seeing spots, he fell over onto his back and was grabbed by the throat.

    ¡°Yet, you, are nothing but a little weakling.¡±

    As the demon applied pressure, Rodrigo futilely tried to pry his huge fingers off. Knowing he was going to die, he expected to break down in tears for the first time in years, or have his life flash before his eyes. Neither happened. Instead, he latched onto the silver lining. The assassin had been after Resent, and by extension, him. Not his brother or sister. With his death, at least they would be safe from monsters like this, and that was what was most important.

    ¡°An insect like you won¡¯t survive the first hour of the Apocalypse,¡± said a second voice, quiet and feminine. She sounded so near, yet increasingly far away from Rodrigo¡¯s fading hearing.

    Then the world went dark.

 Chapter 5 - Regeneration

    In the middle of a wasteland, under a deep red, starless sky, Resent stood with his arms across his chest. He looked to be around thirteen this time.

    In front of him was his mentor, Misery. In his hands, he held an immense sword nearly equal in length to his own body. ¡°You may still be quite far from your father¡¯s level of strength, but you have certainly made good progress, Resent.¡±

    ¡°When shall father bestow some of his oh so valuable wisdom upon me?¡±

    Misery ignored Resent¡¯s mocking tone as he stared off into the distance. ¡°You are not lacking in wit, my prince, so I fail to comprehend why I must repeat myself with such frequency. Not merely the capital, but all six great cities look to him for guidance, as most of the high lords yearn for him to show a hint of weakness. I have been training you all this time precisely because he cannot do so himself.¡±

    Resent spat on the ground. ¡°I realize that, but only father can teach me the 666.¡±

    ¡°According to the king, it is not a technique that is taught. When the nebulae deem you worthy, they will grant it to you. Yet double-edged as it is, it is a deathblow intended for only the direst of circumstances. For now, let us continue honing your skills.¡±

    Abruptly, Misery barreled at Resent, bringing the blade down on his head. With a slight wave of his hand, the black and purple nebulae emerged to block the attack. Misery drew back, dashing away from Resent. For someone covered in such heavy-looking armor, Misery was surprisingly agile.

    Resent stretched out his hand and the nebulae chased after the white-eyed demon. They were quick and almost seemed to catch Misery, but as he spun and cleaved through them with ease, it was clear he was only warming up.

    #

    Rodrigo awoke, staring up at white ceiling tiles. He was in a hospital bed, dressed in a powder blue gown with nothing underneath. Raquel and Carlito were sleeping in chairs by his side. They were wearing drab, ill-fitting clothing that his sister wouldn¡¯t be caught dead in under normal circumstances.

    Another one of those dreams. No, it was too concrete. He was positive now. It was one of Resent¡¯s memories. And if he was seeing Resent¡¯s memories, was Resent seeing his?

    ¡°Awake at last?¡±

    ¡°Resent,¡± Rodrigo said aloud. Then remembered to think what he needed to say. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°You tell me. They found you unconscious on the ground near your hovel.¡±

    What did that mean? Did the firefighters reach the scene before Flint could finish the job? No. If he wanted Resent dead, he could have snapped Rodrigo¡¯s neck in a heartbeat. Or was the unseen woman to thank for his survival? Her words certainly didn¡¯t make her sound like an ally. Maybe she was the brains to Flint¡¯s brawn and reined him in for some reason.

    Before Rodrigo could get his thinking cap on, something distracted him. He wasn¡¯t feeling any pain. He sat up to examine himself. Beyond the mildly disturbing fact that someone had bathed him in his sleep, scrubbing the blood and soot off his skin, as far as he could tell, he wasn¡¯t burned or even bruised. ¡°This doesn¡¯t make sense. There¡¯s not a scratch on me.¡±

    ¡°Fortunately, my regeneration seems unhindered by your frail human body.¡±

    ¡°You can heal, too?¡±

    ¡°The power and speed vary, but all demons regenerate. Mine is particularly powerful, able to heal from nonfatal wounds within minutes.¡±

    While that was reassuring, Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure how confident he was in Resent¡¯s strength. He could take down humans easily enough, but Flint handed him his ass. How would either of them survive if even stronger demons appeared?

    He was so deep in thought he didn¡¯t notice a smiling Carlito until he rose to hug him. ¡°Thank God you¡¯re okay!¡±

    The joyful shout roused Raquel. Seeing Rodrigo conscious, she breathed a sigh of relief, then flushed with anger. ¡°Why would you go back in there? What could¡¯ve been so important you had to scare us like that?¡±

    ¡°So you guys really didn¡¯t see him?¡± Rodrigo asked, instantly regretting the question.

    ¡°Who?¡± Raquel and Carlito asked in unison.

    ¡°Forget it. The smoke must¡¯ve had me hallucinating. How bad did the fire get before they put it out?¡±

    Both of their faces darkened, and now he saw how red and puffy their eyes were. Like they had cried themselves dry.

    Raquel spoke up first. ¡°We lost everything, Rodrigo. Everything. The fire trucks showed up a few minutes after we got to Ms. Martinez¡¯s. But by then...¡± She trailed off, nothing else needing to be said.

    With this new world Rodrigo had been so violently introduced to, losing games, clothes, books, and various other possessions should have felt inconsequential. It wasn¡¯t like he was a collector of anything valuable or lost something irreplaceable. But he had lived in that old house all his life. It was impossible not to get a lump in his throat.

    When he was sure his voice would be steady, Rodrigo asked, ¡°How¡¯s Mom?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s all right,¡± Carlito said. ¡°She¡¯s in the hallway talking to Officer Gibson about the fire. He¡¯s been waiting for you to wake up for the past day and a half.¡±

    ¡°Day and a half? What¡¯s with all this sleeping I¡¯ve been doing lately?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°The body had not yet adjusted to containing a second entity. It should no longer pose an issue.¡±

    Rodrigo gently slid the tube for the IV machine out of the back of his hand and detached the health monitor from his finger. He got out of bed and put on the non-slip hospital socks before heading to the door.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care how the hell it happened. I just know it did and I deserve compensation,¡± Miriam said.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, we went through this yesterday. You don¡¯t have any insurance that would cover this. There¡¯s nothing the police can do about that, anyway,¡± a deep, irritated voice said. While Rodrigo could hardly blame her for falling behind on insurance payments with having to support the four of them, what were they supposed to do now?

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    As Rodrigo opened the door, the tall officer¡¯s blue eyes locked onto his, clearly desperate for a release from his current conversation. ¡°Rodrigo Beltran? I¡¯m Officer Gibson.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. I heard you wanted to talk. Can we go somewhere private?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, kid.¡± Officer Gibson looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties, but had a toughness to him. More battle-tested soldier than cop. Rodrigo was curious how he got so many scars on his face.

    Miriam glared as she brushed past him and into the room, without so much as a ¡°nice to see you.¡± Since she had waited around for him to wake up, he almost thought seeing her firstborn in a mini-coma had revitalized her maternal instincts. Silly him.

    Officer Gibson took Rodrigo into an empty patient room and pulled out a little black notepad. ¡°Tell me everything you can remember about what happened.¡±

    Rodrigo summed things up as best he could, keeping the supernatural aspects to himself. He also didn¡¯t bring up the woman, unsure what her role in this was. Lying to the police wasn¡¯t the smartest idea, but he didn¡¯t want to appear a nut job, either.

    ¡°The fire investigator passed on some witness statements. Admittedly, with how quickly it burned down, no one saw much but the obvious. I spoke with your family yesterday, though, and you¡¯re the first to tell me about a potential arsonist. Can you describe the suspect?¡±

    Mentioning Flint may have been a mistake. If by some miracle the police found the demon, who seemed to have selective invisibility, what could they really do to stop him? But maybe he couldn¡¯t conjure fire as fast as bullets could fly. Despite Resent¡¯s grumbling, Rodrigo described every aspect of Flint¡¯s appearance.

    ¡°So, about six-and-a-half feet tall, dressed in black, and wearing some kind of Kabuki mask? Sounds like a scary individual,¡± Officer Gibson said.

    Rodrigo was about to say the mask closer resembled the iron ones samurai wore under their helmets for intimidation starting in the 15<sup>th</sup> century, when an eerie thought occurred to him. Even a Kabuki theater mask was too accurate a term going off his description alone. Almost as if the officer had seen it. Maybe even worn it. And what better way to dispose of evidence than to work the case yourself, like some sort of demonic Dexter Morgan?

    Officer Gibson was a few inches shorter than Flint and his voice wasn¡¯t as high-pitched or jovial, but that could easily be explained by lifts and acting. The long-faded scars were harder to dispute. If all demons regenerated, lasting wounds weren¡¯t something any of them should have. His instincts had proven right often lately, though this was probably just a guy with a passing interest in Japanese culture, like him.

    Either not noticing or disregarding Rodrigo¡¯s brief discomfort, Officer Gibson pressed on, ¡°Why go back into a burning building to confront him? Did you have a death wish?¡±

    ¡°I know it was dumb, but I wasn¡¯t thinking straight. I knew he was responsible once I saw him up there waving at me and I snapped.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Officer Gibson scratched at the short brown hairs on his head with the ballpoint of his pen. ¡°So, why was your mom unconscious?¡±

    Rodrigo contemplated how to spin his answer. Would they have bothered to test his mother¡¯s alcohol level under the circumstances? And if they did, would it still have been in her system at the time? It couldn¡¯t have been more than seconds, but felt like minutes under Officer Gibson¡¯s probing gaze.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what was wrong with her. A few hours before the fire, she came home sick and just passed out.¡± Rodrigo figured Raquel and Carlito might have said something similar.

    Although Officer Gibson didn¡¯t look to be buying his ignorance, he left it alone. ¡°All right, I think we¡¯ve got enough information for now. I¡¯ll contact you when we hear anything.¡±

    Rodrigo nodded, feeling embarrassed about his crackpot theory, and shook the officer¡¯s outstretched hand.

    ¡°About time,¡± Miriam said as he returned to his room. ¡°Can we go now or are you not done hibernating?¡±

    ¡°Go where? A homeless shelter?¡± Rodrigo asked. ¡°I heard you talking with the cop.¡±

    Raquel and Carlito wore matching expressions of dread, as if their situation had only now sunk in.

    Miriam was quiet for a long moment. ¡°After hearing about the fire on the news, Emelina suggested we come stay with her in her new house down in Flatbush. At least until I can find an affordable apartment.¡±

    ¡°T¨ªa did?¡± Carlito asked in an overexcited tone only he could get away with. Even Raquel would¡¯ve earned a sharp look from their mother. For as far back as Rodrigo could remember, she and her older sister had never seen eye to eye. Emelina was one of the few people who knew just how self-destructive his mother could be.

    ¡°Yes, she did,¡± Miriam acknowledged through clenched teeth. Then she turned back to Rodrigo. ¡°Now, get dressed. I already signed you out. I¡¯m calling the car, so hurry it up.¡±

    Considering the needle puncture on the back of Rodrigo¡¯s hand had vanished, it was probably best if none of the medical staff checked up on him. Too hungry and drowsy to argue, he went into the bathroom and dressed himself in the clothing his mother had gotten him, insufficient for winter weather.

    The half an hour-long ride gave Rodrigo the chance to think. He sat between Raquel, who was keeping everyone she knew updated about the aftermath online, and a pensive Carlito, staring out the window as they drove past Prospect Park. His mother was next to the driver, reading a romance novel.

    ¡°Do you actually think you can beat Flint, if he comes after us again?¡± Rodrigo asked. ¡°I want to make him pay, but he¡¯s so strong.¡±

    ¡°Hard to say. As is, my nebulae are only a fraction as powerful as they once were. Because of that, I must teach you how to control the nebulae as well. It shall be to a basic degree, but your body should attune itself to them, in turn, strengthening me. In the unlikely event you succeed, that is.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, about that...what exactly are those things? I mean, you call them nebulae, but they¡¯re clearly not the space clouds NASA studies on a slow day. At first, they looked like some sort of mist. But then they turned into a twister.¡±

    ¡°Obviously, they are not of that kind. The word precedes your entire vernacular, let alone the invention of the spyglass which allowed man to even observe such things. I can generate the nebulae at will. Their initial shape is that of intangible ¡®mist¡¯, as you succinctly put it. But I can manipulate them to take whatever form I deem necessary.¡±

    The car stopped in front of a gray two-story house on East 18<sup>th</sup> Street. The front porch¡¯s roof was supported by cedar columns, the white paint on them also trimming the wooden window frames and edges of the building. Most of the surrounding homes were complete with lush lawns, often behind fences, some picket, others steel. His Uncle Antonio¡¯s auto shop must have been making a killing for him to claw his way here from one of the worst housing projects on Staten Island.

    As Rodrigo got out of the car and looked his temporary neighborhood over, he already missed the sight of the Spiral looming high overhead. Besides the beautiful view and privacy, over the years it had grown to have a calming effect on him.

    When the car sped off, Miriam forced a wad of small bills into his hand. ¡°We¡¯re going inside. Find a store and get us some breakfast.¡±

    Rodrigo stood there, dumbstruck. Every time he thought he had a handle on his mother¡¯s callousness, she surprised him. He had just gotten out of the hospital, and she was already using him as her errand boy.

    ¡°Well? What are you waiting for? Fanfare?¡± Miriam asked.

    Rodrigo looked down, unable to meet her stony stare. ¡°It¡¯s not like she won¡¯t have anything for us to eat.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯d both like that, wouldn¡¯t you? Trying to make it look like I can¡¯t even feed my own kids. Just stop being useless and go.¡±

    ¡°How useless was I when I saved your life?¡± he muttered.

    Miriam had been walking away to join Raquel and Carlito, already out of earshot as they excitedly rang the doorbell. But his words made her round on him with a scowl, her hand instinctively twitching upward. Seeming to remember they were in public, she lowered it, her fingers flexing at her side like a gunslinger itching to draw. ¡°What was that?¡± When he didn¡¯t dare repeat himself, she continued in a fierce whisper, ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened to make you think you¡¯re grown all of a sudden, but you need to remember how to shut your damn mouth.¡±

    Rodrigo nearly snapped. It wasn¡¯t like he expected gratitude for carrying his mother out of the fire, but he felt he had at least earned the right to not be treated like shit for a few days. Knowing what he¡¯d be rewarded with behind closed doors if he kept pushing her, he grit his teeth and controlled himself. He turned and hurried away before he cut her with the words on the tip of his tongue that couldn¡¯t be taken back.

 Chapter 6 â€“ The Nebulae

    As Rodrigo was wandering through the small neighborhood of Prospect Park South, he was a bit put off that hardly anyone was on the streets. Granted, it was early morning, but it was also winter break. He thought he¡¯d at least be seeing other kids scattered around.

    He was walking his second long block, shivering the whole way, when he noticed the unique houses varying in style from imposing Colonials to fairy-tale-like Victorians had transitioned into rows of near uniform brownstone apartment buildings. Fearing he had zoned out and gotten lost, he did a double take, checking across the street behind him and seeing the squat Catholic church he¡¯d passed on the end of Emelina¡¯s block.

    Rodrigo was still mulling over the jarring divide when a thin teenager with slicked-back reddish-brown hair came jogging toward him. He stopped a few feet away, removing his white earhook headphones blaring a reggaeton rhythm. ¡°Hey, Ruy.¡±

    Only one person still called him by that childhood nickname. ¡°Jett.¡±

    They clasped hands, pulling each other into a quick one-armed hug. Rodrigo hadn¡¯t seen his cousin in the flesh in over two years. Living boroughs apart and with the tiresome feud between their mothers, they¡¯d drifted apart after entering high school.

    ¡°Hey, man. I heard you were living out here now. Why are you running in this weather, though?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I be asking you that? I cut my morning jog short and was on my way home since I heard you guys were already here.¡±

    ¡°My mom sent me on a food run. And we just got here. How did you know?¡± After a second, Rodrigo answered his own question, ¡°Raquel.¡±

    ¡°Yep. Unlike you, she doesn¡¯t act like social media¡¯s a plague. Haven¡¯t seen you in a while. Barely recognized you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, right. I look exactly the same.¡±

    Jett hovered a hand over Rodrigo¡¯s head and drew it to the bridge of his own nose. ¡°True. You¡¯re still peque?o.¡±

    Rodrigo chuckled, giving his cousin a playful shove. ¡°And you still look like you¡¯re capped at one meal per day.¡±

    ¡°Weak comeback, but I¡¯ll let you have it.¡± Banter out of the way, Jett frowned. ¡°Man, I can¡¯t believe what happened to your house. I can still picture every room. This seriously sucks.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Rodrigo said glumly as reality came crashing down on him.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t been having the best week myself. Actually...¡± Jett trailed off, twisting one of the small diamond studs in his ears. ¡°You know what? Never mind me. Gotta look on the bright side. At least we¡¯ll have time to hang out now. Ever been around here?¡±

    ¡°The park, yeah. Not so much the surrounding area.¡±

    ¡°You gotta go up a couple of blocks to Church Ave or cross over into Flatbush proper to get where the stores and everything else¡¯s at. If you still like fast-food, you¡¯ll be in heaven. I¡¯ll walk you.¡±

    After leaving the residential area, the cousins ended up in front of a Middle Eastern deli Jett recommended. Rodrigo went inside, grabbed a two-liter bottle of Coke, and ordered sandwiches for his family. Barely having enough to cover it, he left the deli, and with Jett, started heading back.

    On their way, taking a different route than they came by, Jett pointed out places of interest amid the dizzying amount of shops and restaurants. Within the quarter mile they traveled, there must have been a store for every major phone carrier and a church for every prominent religion. Across the street from Kings Theatre was a gym, conveniently between a doctor¡¯s office and a Taco Bell. Not like getting ripped would be much help against demons, but at least it would be something.

    ¡°How¡¯s Geo?¡± Rodrigo asked, as the Vega home came into sight.

    ¡°He and Pa are visiting family in D.R. I didn¡¯t feel up to it this year, so Ma stayed home with me. They¡¯ll be back by Christmas.¡±

    Unlike Rodrigo¡¯s parents, Jett¡¯s kept in touch with their ethnic roots. It was the reason Jett was fluent in Spanish, while Rodrigo only had the hundred or so words he could retain from his high-school language classes. Isolating him further from his heritage, his grandparents on his mother¡¯s side had all but disowned her and moved to Miami with unfulfilled plans to return to Cuba before he was born. He had never met them.

    ¡°Besides that, you know him,¡± Jett continued. ¡°Unlike Saint Carlito, nothing but drama with my little bro. I try to keep him outta trouble, but he¡¯s fallen in with a bad crowd...wow, can¡¯t believe I just said that. Feels like I¡¯m my old man or something.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I get you. Carlito¡¯s a good kid and you know how brainy he is. I¡¯m more worried about him shutting everyone out than getting involved with shady people. But Raquel¡¯s practically dating one of them.¡±

    ¡°Ay Dios. They grow up so fast,¡± Jett joked, reaching up and pretending to brush away a nonexistent tear. He walked through the path cutting across his lawn, up the five stone steps, and unlocked the door, leading Rodrigo inside.

    As they entered the maroon living room, Emelina rushed over, sweeping Rodrigo into a tight hug. Despite being a few years older than his mother, she had a more youthful appearance with her auburn hair styled in curls and her tan skin not aged prematurely by binge drinking. But more than any of that, it was the lack of her sister¡¯s wretched unhappiness in her lighter eyes. ¡°Lo siento mucho, sobrino. I still can¡¯t believe what happened.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. We lost everything, but at least no one was hurt,¡± Rodrigo said. Raquel and Carlito were sitting on the alabaster L-Shaped sectional sofa, and seemed so absorbed in the cartoon they were watching, they didn¡¯t notice he¡¯d come in. Jett took the bag of sandwiches from Rodrigo and headed over to greet his cousins, but his mother snapping her fingers rapidly after him made him turn back.

    ¡°?Bandejas, chico!¡± Emelina chided. Recognizing the word for trays, Rodrigo let a small smile slip. She always was a bit of a neat freak.

    Jett glanced heavenward and disappeared into the kitchen.

    ¡°I wanted to fix them something to eat, but Miriam...well, you know how stubborn she is,¡± Emelina said. ¡°She went to rest in the guest room almost the minute she came through the door. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s slept since you¡¯ve been in the hospital.¡±

    Rodrigo didn¡¯t mention he doubted her insomnia was born from any concern for him, and simply nodded. Did she know just how much worse her sister had become recently?

    After Rodrigo had wolfed down his bacon, egg, and cheese hero, and washed it down with some soda, Resent said, ¡°My expectations were high after that pizza, but you disappointed me, slave.¡± The sandwich was nothing extraordinary, but it wasn¡¯t bad. Like virtually everyone else on the planet, Resent must have developed a fondness for pizza.

    ¡°You kids should shower before you play those silly games of yours,¡± Emelina said. ¡°Jett, dales ropa. Dig through Geo¡¯s old clothes from the bags going to the Salvation Army for Carlito, if you have to.¡±

    ¡°On it, Ma,¡± Jett said, running up the steps.

    ¡°Rodrigo, we need to talk.¡± She glanced at Raquel and Carlito coming closer. ¡°Later.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure.¡± It had to be serious for her to want to talk to him about it alone.

    Though spending the last thirty-six hours bedridden had left Rodrigo clean enough, he went into the upstairs bathroom. He heated the water to just below scalding, wanting to escape the chill that followed him even indoors, and stepped into the shower. Getting out after twenty minutes, he grabbed one of the unused rolled towels and dried himself off. When he opened the door, he saw Jett left him everything from a new pair of boxers to a red baseball jacket. He felt a pang of nostalgia, seeing the black and purple cashmere scarf with frayed edges. It was a gift from one of his closest friends growing up, left in Jett¡¯s old apartment the last time he¡¯d visited. Part of him had hoped to never see it again.

    After he got dressed, he headed into Jett¡¯s room. The teal walls were lined with small black wooden shelves stacked with games dating as far back as the PlayStation 3 era. Carlito and Jett were sitting on the top bunk of the bed, gripping white wireless controllers and furiously mashing buttons. They were competing in some shooting game on the PS5. Raquel was at the computer desk in the corner, phone in hand. She occasionally looked up at the flat screen hanging above the dresser and snorted.

    ¡°Bro, go take a shower,¡± Rodrigo said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. He glanced at the score on the screen. ¡°You¡¯re getting destroyed, anyway.¡±

    Carlito groaned before hitting pause, handing the controller to him, and climbing down the ladder.

    ¡°Know how to play?¡± Jett asked as Rodrigo unpaused the game.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a good enough idea. Don¡¯t forget, I used to have an Xbox One until my mom threw it out the window thanks to Carlito¡¯s Minecraft addiction.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re soft. I wouldn¡¯t let my ma do me dirty like that.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Rodrigo smiled. ¡°Uh-huh. Yet, I¡¯ve seen you and Geo hide from her flip-flops like soldiers in a foxhole.¡±

    Jett sucked his teeth. ¡°Come on now. Why you gotta bring the chancletas into this?¡±

    Unfortunately, with Rodrigo¡¯s preference for strategy games, shooters never were his forte, whereas Jett played them daily. By the time Carlito came back into the room fifteen minutes later, Rodrigo had just lost the rematch.

    ¡°And still the undisputed champion!¡± Jett barked in an exaggerated ring announcer voice.

    Rodrigo was stretching the controller out to Carlito, but Raquel swooped in and snatched it from him.

    ¡°Strange. These ¡®video games¡¯, as you call them, simulate dangerous situations while not actually putting the participants in any peril.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the point. To experience things you can¡¯t do or don¡¯t want to risk doing in real life. A break from reality.¡±

    ¡°You humans certainly find baffling ways to entertain yourselves.¡±

    With the others distracted, Rodrigo slipped out of the room and headed downstairs to see what his aunt wanted. As he was making his way down the steps, Miriam¡¯s shrill voice drifting up from the kitchen made him halt. ¡°Three twin beds in the guest room, huh?¡±

    ¡°Rodrigo can take Geo¡¯s bunk until he and Antonio are back from Santo Domingo,¡± Emelina answered calmly over the sound of running water and scrubbing. ¡°Jett and I¡¯ll do some Christmas shopping tomorrow morning. Get you guys some stuff to get back on your feet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a charity case. And nice try dodging the subject. We both know none of those beds were meant for me. What, two kids not fulfilling enough for you, sis? You want mine, too?¡±

    ¡°We also both know¡­¡± Emelina exhaled, the sound of scrubbing intensifying. ¡°Never mind. You¡¯ve been through a lot. I didn¡¯t invite you here to argue.¡±

    ¡°No, say it. You¡¯ve never held yourself back from slinging judgment from that high horse your bony ass has always been saddled in. Say it! Say it, you uppity¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a mental case! Loca!¡± Emelina snapped, dishes clattering. Then she lowered her voice enough that Rodrigo had to strain his ears to hear her. ¡°Mam¨¢ y pap¨¢ would have had you committed if you hadn¡¯t run away when you had. You broke their hearts. So, yeah, I wanted my nephews and niece to have somewhere safe to go if you ever have another episode like that.¡±

    There was a long silence before Miriam spoke again. ¡°You know what? We¡¯re not teenagers anymore. I don¡¯t need to take this. You want some quality time with my kids so bad? Knock yourself out.¡±

    ¡°S¨ª. Corre, hermanita. Correr,¡± Emelina said as Miriam stomped away and the front door slammed. ¡°It¡¯s what you¡¯re best at.¡±

    Rodrigo waited a few minutes before continuing down the stairs, as much to give his aunt time to cool off as hide his having eavesdropped. In the cream-colored kitchen with marble counter-tops, he found her washing dishes. ¡°Emelina.¡±

    His aunt dropped the plate she was scrubbing into the sink, and looked over her shoulder at him. ¡°Caramba, ni?o! Skulking around like a cat. You¡¯re free to talk now?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the others are playing a game.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Emelina said, rolling her eyes as she squeezed the sponge out and returned it to the caddy. She took a seat at the round dining table, near a sliding glass door leading into the backyard. Rodrigo sat in front of her, and she continued, ¡°It¡¯s about your father. He called a few days ago, upset he couldn¡¯t send money this month.¡± Maybe because of the shared grief Miriam caused them, Emelina had stayed on good terms with Edward, even after he left her sister.

    ¡°What, like, child support?¡± Rodrigo asked. ¡°I know he doesn¡¯t pay alimony since they¡¯re not technically divorced.¡±

    ¡°No, the money he sends for your personal use,¡± Emelina said, staring at him with concern. ¡°Honey, he¡¯s been sending cash monthly since you turned fourteen. You haven¡¯t gotten any of it?¡±

    Rodrigo was at a loss. As far as he knew, Edward had cut all ties to his family, except for what was legally required of him. According to Emelina, he should have gotten about thirty-one envelopes filled with cash. If it wasn¡¯t her saying it, he would think it was some sick joke. ¡°I¡¯ve never gotten anything from that man. But then, the mail used to be delivered pretty late, so Mom was usually the one to get it from the mailbox.¡±

    After it was out in the open, both of them came to the same conclusion within seconds.

    ¡°You don¡¯t really think Miriam would...steal from you, do you?¡± Emelina asked.

    ¡°She¡¯d do it in a heartbeat.¡±

    Despite having been the first to suggest it, his aunt¡¯s arched brows rose in surprise at the conviction in his voice. ¡°Okay. Listen, don¡¯t mention this to your mother yet. We¡¯ll talk to her about it together when she¡¯s in a better headspace. I¡¯ll call Edward tonight and tell him maybe he should send the money another way.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Emelina. Oh, and when you call him, I¡¯d like to speak with him.¡±

    Rodrigo didn¡¯t know how much money Edward sent, but no matter the amount, it could definitely have helped the family. His mother had canceled his fencing classes shortly after his father left and he hadn¡¯t argued, assuming it was just too much of a financial strain. Was she even employed or was she just wasting that money, drinking the days away? He was so frustrated he considered scouring the nearby bars and liquor stores for her. But instead, he did what he was so accustomed to, and swallowed his anger. ¡°I guess now¡¯s a good time to get started.¡±

    After telling Emelina he was going for a walk to clear his head, Rodrigo left the house. Resent had insisted the best place to train would be somewhere both secluded and spacious. He tensed as he noticed security cameras were everywhere, at least one by the entrance of most apartment buildings, then cursed himself for how Resent¡¯s presence had him thinking increasingly like a criminal. Finally, he ended up in an alley, where he could only hope no one happened to look out their back windows.

    ¡°This should do. If someone stumbles upon you, kill them,¡± Resent said.

    Rodrigo had no intention of doing that, but he didn¡¯t argue. ¡°So, how¡¯s this work?¡±

    ¡°It will be arduous. You must make a trigger in your mind that can bring the nebulae out with a thought. However, there is no guarantee this will work, since the Flair is mine.¡±

    ¡°Did you have to make a ¡®trigger¡¯, too?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Demons can use their Flairs from birth, but besides certain anomalies, cannot call on them with ease prior to making a trigger. Now, close your eyes and block out all sound except for my voice. Like most Flairs, the control over nebulae stems from the hands. Stretch them out and tighten the muscles solely in your arms.¡±

    Rodrigo did as he was told. The initially unsettling quiet of the neighborhood made concentrating much easier. He placed his arms out in front of him and flexed them.

    ¡°While keeping that pose, you¡¯ll need to visualize the nebulae I control. There will be no result unless it¡¯s done flawlessly.¡±

    Rodrigo noted that was the first time he heard Resent use contractions. But put it out of mind as he thought back to the dream from the hospital. The black nebulae with traces of purple were crystal clear in his memory. A chill coursed through Rodrigo that had nothing to do with the cold. Opening his eyes, he saw pure black mist emitting from his hands. Lacking the density of Resent¡¯s nebulae, they swirled all around Rodrigo without any input from him. It was almost as if they were alive and judging him. Eager to dispose of him if they found he wasn¡¯t up to par.

    Only when the nebulae calmed and settled at his palms, did Rodrigo stop shuddering. ¡°I-I did it?¡±

    Resent didn¡¯t respond. From how difficult he made the process sound, Rodrigo could only assume he had somehow completed it faster than anticipated.

    ¡°I did it,¡± he repeated, sure of himself now.

    ¡°I suppose, if little else, humans always had impressive imaginations. Now imagine the same nebulae in your hands dissipating.¡±

    Rodrigo did so, and they disappeared.

    ¡°Good. The trigger is complete. Now that you can call on them whenever you choose, you need to learn how to use them. While your hands will direct the nebulae, it is your mind that will need to alter their form. Practice.¡±

    Rodrigo imagined them even more vividly than the first time, and they appeared instantly. That he had to intend to bring them out should prevent accidents. He pointed his hands downward and envisioned himself ascending with the nebulae. Nothing happened.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Trying to shoot nebulae at the ground so I can fly or something.¡±

    Resent laughed. ¡°Fly? You fool. At best, that would make you jump.¡±

    After countless failed attempts at making the nebulae do anything more than flail uselessly, Rodrigo was becoming discouraged. As someone who spent his more recent years trying to stay under the radar, he knew he wasn¡¯t an ideal candidate to command such power. Despite that, he had to learn so he could stand up to Flint. Especially now that he was a guest at Emelina¡¯s house. His presence there might put her and Jett in danger. Most importantly, he needed the strength to protect Raquel and Carlito.

    As if responding to that core desire, the nebulae lashed out at the ground, propelling Rodrigo up into the air. His excitement was fleeting, as he had to cover his head to stop it from smashing into the steel gratings of a fire escape platform. With a grunt, he fell onto his back, hitting the ground hard.

    ¡°Sad.¡±

    ¡°Look, I¡¯m trying my best. Sorry I¡¯m not some hotshot prince who was born for this.¡±

    Resent ignored the gibe and kept laughing at his every mistake. However, as Rodrigo kept practicing, determined not to let the prince¡¯s jeers distract him, Resent eventually eased up and started throwing some tips his way.

    This went on for over two hours, with a few brief breaks. It was more mentally demanding than physically, but by the end, Rodrigo was lying down, gasping for breath as he wiped sweat off his forehead. He had expected the regeneration to take care of his fatigue as well, but that didn¡¯t seem the case.

    ¡°If basic training tires you so, I hate to estimate how long you will last in combat. Nevertheless, now that the body is more familiar with the nebulae, I can already feel an ounce of my strength has returned.¡±

    ¡°Resent, after Flint knocked you out, someone else showed up. A woman, or a she-demon, I guess.¡±

    ¡°You guess?¡±

    ¡°I never saw them and might¡¯ve been delirious. I¡¯d just gotten my ass kicked and Flint was choking me, I thought, to death. Anyway, whoever it was said I wouldn¡¯t survive the first hour of the Apocalypse. Any idea what that¡¯s about?¡±

    ¡°Heinrik informed me I was in that urn for fifteen years, so I would not know. If the vermin approach us again, I¡¯ll beat the answers out of them. For now, carry on with your pedestrian existence...while you still can.¡±

 Chapter 7 â€“ Playground Dreams

    ¡°Enjoy your walk?¡± Jett asked, handing Rodrigo a PS5 controller as he reentered the room. He wondered how much more Emelina had told him, if anything.

    ¡°Yeah. Sorry about dipping out,¡± Rodrigo said, taking a seat on the bed¡¯s bottom bunk. ¡°What are we playing?¡±

    ¡°This role-playing game I downloaded with 4 player co-op. I had it installing in the background this whole time. Heard it¡¯s sick.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on. RPGs are lame,¡± Raquel said, her hair still damp from an earlier shower and hanging down to her lower back. She was dressed nearly head-to-toe in Geo¡¯s signature blues. ¡°Is this you being a sore loser because I started wiping the floor with you?¡±

    ¡°?Oye! Don¡¯t get cocky. I was going easy on you while you learned the ropes,¡± Jett said, neglecting that he¡¯d mercilessly stomped on any delusions Rodrigo and Carlito might have had of having careers in esports. ¡°We can have a rematch later. At least we can play this as a team.¡±

    The four of them lost themselves in the virtual world and its dungeons for hours, but the whole time, both older boys were distracted. Rodrigo was arguing with Resent, who at first mocked him for wasting so much time playing a game, then criticized the decisions he made in it, even analyzing his performance in every battle. Jett was constantly glancing at his phone and got up hourly to look out the window.

    When night fell, Jett turned his controller off and docked it in the charging station. ¡°Let¡¯s take a break.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? My rogue just got this sweet crossbow,¡± Raquel whined. ¡°You mad your barbarian is absolute trash, while I¡¯ve got the best stats in the party?¡±

    ¡°Sure, it¡¯s breaking my heart. Look, play another game for a while. Ruy and I¡¯ve gotta do something real quick.¡±

    Though clueless about what Jett had in mind, Rodrigo grabbed his jacket and scarf. If he had to keep listening to Resent denounce his character¡¯s liberal use of mana, he was going to have an aneurysm. He followed his cousin downstairs, where Emelina was in the early stages of cooking something that smelled heavenly.

    ¡°Ma, we¡¯re stepping out for some fresh air,¡± Jett said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be too long. Dinner will be ready in an hour.¡±

    The cousins left the house and walked at a brisk pace. There were lights on in homes and vehicles were passing by, so the neighborhood wasn¡¯t deserted. While there were more people out now, there was a weird hypervigilance to them. Rodrigo didn¡¯t think of himself or Jett as threatening-looking, but nearly everyone that passed by gave them a wide berth, and fixed them with unblinking stares.

    ¡°Dude, what¡¯s up with this neighborhood?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Dunno. It¡¯s just an odd place, I guess,¡± Jett answered in a monotone. The way his cousin was acting was creeping Rodrigo out. After all, the Jett he had grown up with was almost always smiles and sunshine. Wherever they were headed, he was unusually somber about it.

    After fifteen minutes, they stopped nearly a mile away, at the entrance to Prospect Park.

    ¡°What are we doing here, man?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°I wanted to tell you earlier, but I had to wait until it got dark. Not as many people are out thanks to the cold, but plenty still go ice skating at the rinks over on Lakeside.¡± Jett led him around the blue-green lake, where swans, geese, and ducks were floating peacefully, and off the road to a spacious grassy area, dense with surrounding trees.

    It seemed like a good spot to murder someone. ¡°Man, I know I was getting some great loot in the game earlier, but if you brought me out here to shank me over it, I think you¡¯re overreacting a bit.¡±

    ¡°Hilarious,¡± Jett said in a humorless tone. ¡°Look, Ruy, I¡¯ve got a big problem. Back when we were younger, we used to talk about everything, and help each other out. I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m expecting from you now, but I-I need to show someone.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s stomach dropped. Until now, the bleakness in Jett¡¯s face made him think his cousin had gotten some girl pregnant. ¡°Show me what?¡±

    ¡°Just watch. And try to stay calm.¡± Jett put some distance between them. After glancing around to make sure no one was in sight, he closed his eyes, his features straining as if he were in pain. No, that wasn¡¯t it. He was concentrating. Concentrating so intensely, he was trembling as a flush crept up his face. Then Rodrigo squeezed his eyes shut against a blinding flash of light.

    When his vision returned seconds later, he shrank back, his every muscle tensing involuntarily to fight...or run. What stood in front of him resembled his cousin only in its wiry build. Unnatural, opaque green electricity coated its entire body. Erratic bolts that popped and sizzled stabbed out of its head like elk antlers, as a tail of lightning swished behind it. What he was seeing was more inhuman-looking than Resent or even Flint.

    The anxiety in those brown eyes was the only definitive proof that this being and Jett were the same. In a distorted voice, he said, ¡°Please, help me.¡± The crackling electricity died down, revealing the boy beneath. His knees buckled, crunching the fallen leaves under their weight. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna be like this, man. I¡¯m a monster.¡±

    In Rodrigo¡¯s brain, a million questions entered a battle royal for control of his tongue. When he spoke, it was with enough composure Jett might¡¯ve found it suspicious, if he was in a sounder state of mind. ¡°Does it hurt when you do that?¡±

    ¡°No, and that just makes it worse.¡±

    ¡°Do you hear a voice in your head? Maybe constantly carrying on about how inferior humans are?¡±

    ¡°Insolent bastard,¡± Resent said.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°What? No.¡± Jett¡¯s gaze dropped to the ground.

    ¡°When¡¯d it start?¡± Rodrigo asked, cutting to the chase.

    ¡°On Wednesday. My friend Eric was getting jumped by some kids behind our school. No one else was around, so I ran over to help him. But once I showed up, and they started focusing on me, Eric bailed. They beat the crap outta me until I felt this weird rush of energy and lifted my foot to kick one of them.¡± Jett paused, tears he had barely been holding back now streaked down his cheeks. ¡°I electrocuted the guy, and somehow it spread to the other three. They were all flopping around on the sidewalk like fish outta water...I think I really hurt them, Ruy. Haven¡¯t been to school since.¡±

    Rodrigo applied cold, hard logic. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been five days, right? If they were really hurt, or even dead, it would¡¯ve made the news by now. Hell, if even one of them was seriously injured, the others would¡¯ve ratted you out to the cops, and we¡¯d be seeing sketches of your mug all over. I think you just stunned them, physically and mentally.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense, I guess,¡± Jett said, some of the stiffness leaving his shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ve been checking the news on my phone, feeling like the Men in Black are gonna break my door down any minute. Still, why me for this?¡±

    Seeing his cousin ready to slip back into self-pity, Rodrigo switched tactics. ¡°Jett, remember when we were kids, and we always used to run around the playground acting like we had superpowers?¡±

    ¡°What about it?¡±

    ¡°It was a bit of an obsession for us. Other kids were constantly playing ball, learning an instrument, or blowing all their parents¡¯ money on trading cards, but not our clique. We were in our own little world.¡± Rodrigo snickered at the memories of a simpler time. A happier time. ¡°That was never purely make-believe, was it? Even at that age, I think we grasped the world¡¯s unfairness and wished we could be powerful enough to do something about it. Sure, it was an impossible fantasy that only got further away with age, but if it would¡¯ve been a dream come true then, why not make the best of it now?¡±

    Jett looked up at Rodrigo again, but with a livid expression. ¡°Are you kidding me with that bullshit? This is real, not some kiddie crap from grade school!¡± He shot to his feet, swiping his tears away. ¡°This was a mistake. The more you talk, the clearer it gets. You can¡¯t even begin to understand what I¡¯m going through.¡±

    The corners of Rodrigo¡¯s mouth tugged upward at the irony in those words. He thrust his arms out in front of him, palms facing the night sky. ¡°You shared this with me because you wanted advice? Sadly, I¡¯ve got nothing. But that¡¯s cuz if you¡¯re a monster, so am I.¡±

    Jett gaped at the black nebulae spinning in Rodrigo¡¯s hands for a long moment, as if he thought it were a mirage. ¡°What? How?¡±

    ¡°It all started with me touching an urn,¡± Rodrigo began.

    He planned to recount everything at once, but after a few minutes, Jett exhaled deeply, interrupting him. ¡°Wait, wait. You¡¯re kinda blowing my mind here. So you¡¯re saying your powers are on loan from a demon?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Resent, the Prince of Hell. Sometimes he takes over my body.¡±

    Jett shook his head and looked at him like he was a lunatic. ¡°Are you sure? What if, when you touched this urn, it took something already...inside you, and made it into a split personality?¡±

    The idea made Rodrigo doubt himself momentarily, but there was too much evidence of Resent¡¯s existence. ¡°Aren¡¯t you Catholic? Shouldn¡¯t demons be right up your alley?¡±

    ¡°Only cuz Ma¡¯s been forcing us to go to church every Sunday since forever.¡±

    ¡°Well, trust me, you¡¯ll get it if you ever see him.¡±

    ¡°Either way, at least you know how you got your powers. I have no clue about mine.¡±

    ¡°How about you?¡± Rodrigo asked. ¡°I mean, it can¡¯t be a coincidence I met you two days after Jett got his powers, can it?¡± Maybe Jett had a demon in him, too. One who didn¡¯t love the sound of their own voice as much as the prince did.

    ¡°Perhaps, or perhaps not,¡± Resent said, as enlightening as a Magic 8-Ball.

    Jett cracked a half-smile, his first sign of optimism since entering the park. ¡°Still, dude, you dunno how much better it makes me feel to know I¡¯m not the only weirdo.¡±

    ¡°Same here,¡± Rodrigo said. ¡°Have you figured out how to use your electricity yet?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been testing it out here since I got it. No matter what I do, I can¡¯t use it at all unless I armor up like I showed you. And even then, it¡¯s rough.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. Enough emotional drivel. Let¡¯s see what he is capable of,¡± Resent said, and Rodrigo got that horrible out-of-body feeling as control was yanked away from him. His hair spiked up and his eyes turned purple. Resent¡¯s lips split into a malicious grin as he stared at Jett.

    Jett staggered back as if someone had struck him. ¡°Holy crap! Are you the demon?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I am Prince Resent. Show me what you can do, human.¡± Without further warning, he rushed at Jett and punched him square in the jaw, knocking him into the grass.

    Jett was on hands and knees, spitting up blood. ¡°W-what are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Your sparks. Bring them out,¡± Resent said as he picked him up by the collar of his jacket and tossed him against the trunk of a tree. He rebounded off it and threw an awkward punch, which Resent deftly sidestepped, then retaliated with a knee to the solar plexus. Jett doubled over, gasping for air.

    ¡°Come on, take it easy,¡± Rodrigo said, hating to see his own limbs brutalize his cousin. The closest they¡¯d ever come to blows was play-fighting as kids.

    ¡°I am holding back tremendously. His deplorable lack of tenacity is no fault of mine!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna fight you,¡± Jett said softly, not moving. The look on his face was a combination of fear, pain, and confusion.

    ¡°Submission won¡¯t make an opponent after your life cease their assault,¡± Resent said. Seeing the comment had fallen on deaf ears, he looked into Jett¡¯s eyes and spat in his face.

    Jett blinked, flinching as the spittle sprayed him, but continued studying his sneakers in an effort to pretend he was elsewhere. Although he didn¡¯t go seeking trouble like his brother, the middle school Jett went to wasn¡¯t very good, so he was no stranger to violence. Had high school changed him that much, or was he still mistaking Resent for Rodrigo?

    ¡°Look at me, you damn coward!¡± Resent roared. ¡°I shall dine with your family shortly. If you presume this runt I¡¯m inhabiting can protect any of you from me, you¡¯re sorely mistaken about the nature of our relationship. It is one of master and slave. If I start beating you all to death, there¡¯s nary a thing he can do to stop me.¡±

    Though Rodrigo knew Resent was trying to provoke Jett, the naked truth of the statement terrified him. It had been his immediate concern when the prince first took control, but had fallen into the background with the threat of Flint. Before he could interject, Jett finally met Resent¡¯s gaze. He spoke in a whisper, ¡°If you hurt any of them...I¡¯ll make you regret it.¡±

    Resent yanked Jett closer so their faces were inches apart. ¡°Oh? And what exactly does a mewling twig like you intend to do? Plan on telling your mother on me? Go ahead. I¡¯ll strangle the life out of the sow right in front of you.¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Jett yelled as electricity surged, rising from his feet to encase his entire body, forcing Resent to let go. The fury of sparks made violent circles around Jett as he tackled Resent and sent him sprawling across the ground. His voice distorted, he said, ¡°You wanna fight so bad? Fine. You¡¯ve got one.¡±

 Chapter 8 â€“ Electric Clash

    Resent rose with a smirk as the nebulae materialized in his hands. Stretching his right arm forward, he began constructing dark webs to catch the now furious boy. Jett was darting and weaving around the nebulae like a wide receiver headed for a touchdown. Both of them seemed to have forgotten they were in a public park. And while the nebulae blended into the night, the electricity zipping back and forth was like a tweaker operating the beacon of a lighthouse.

    ¡°Damn, he¡¯s swift,¡± Resent said, sounding almost impressed.

    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s always been fast, but never like this.¡±

    ¡°Let us ascertain precisely how fast.¡± Resent put his left arm under his right. The network of nebulae stopped chasing Jett and coalesced in the center of the clearing, spinning around each other until they created a twister twice the size of the one Resent used against Flint. Branches, litter, and leaves were being pulled in with ease, and its intensity was only increasing.

    ¡°Stop! You¡¯ll kill him!¡±

    Jett was getting closer and closer to being sucked in, while Resent just stood by, watching. Before Rodrigo could protest further, all the electricity surging around Jett¡¯s armored body concentrated at his heels. He bolted out of the twister¡¯s range, swerved around an oncoming trashcan, and threw a wild punch Resent struggled to catch and immediately released after being zapped by it. Then Jett doubled back out of reach. That all happened inside a second.

    ¡°He was trivializing his Flair by referring to it as armor. Not only does it counter every instance of contact with an electric discharge, but it greatly enhances all aspects of his agility. Thanks to your inferior human senses, I could scarcely see more than a blur,¡± Resent admitted. ¡°Is scurrying around like a rodent all you can do?¡±

    ¡°Screw you!¡± Jett yelled as electricity focused at his feet again. Flitting past Resent, he ran up the trunk of a thick elm tree behind him, springing off it and into a kick just before reaching the midpoint. At the speed he was moving, his foot might¡¯ve knocked Resent¡¯s head off his shoulders if the nebulae hadn¡¯t been there to shield him. For a second, it looked like Jett¡¯s attack might break through, but then his electricity died down, the armor fading away.

    The nebulae Resent had used to protect himself, wrapped around Jett¡¯s legs and held him upside down in midair. ¡°You left yourself defenseless with that maneuver. Someone so dependent on speed should not be so eager to remove his feet from the ground.¡±

    Jett¡¯s face crumpled. ¡°I wasn¡¯t winning otherwise. It was all-or-nothing.¡± He let his trembling arms drop to hang loosely over his head. ¡°I¡¯m done.¡±

    ¡°And just when I was thinking you may have some potential. How unfortunate.¡± Once Resent returned control to Rodrigo, his nebulae dissipated, and Jett fell to the grass with a grunt.

    ¡°Is he gone?¡± Jett asked, panting in exhaustion.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Rodrigo said as he helped his cousin up. ¡°I know it was harsh, but in his own twisted way, he was trying to help you. At least you got some experience using your ability in a fight. That¡¯s more than I can say.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not brain-dead. I get it. But maybe he coulda talked to me instead of just kicking my ass. Dude¡¯s a jerk.¡±

    ¡°No argument here,¡± Rodrigo said, putting a hand on Jett¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I think you¡¯ve gone through enough drama for one day. Let¡¯s go back and get some grub.¡±

    Emerging from the thicket of trees, they crossed the small Terrace Bridge that overlooked the lake. As they passed the large white boathouse at the water¡¯s edge, the Camperdown Elm, with its gnarled, downward growing branches, came into view. Rodrigo remembered it being pointed out to him and his classmates during a field trip when he was a kid. Even in the darkness, it didn¡¯t look nearly as spooky as he¡¯d thought it back then. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was a perk of getting older, or the result of having seen and experienced so much worse than a depressed tree in the years since.

    The walk back to the house took longer than it did coming. When they arrived, Emelina was already serving food from the steaming pots and pans on the stove. ¡°Good timing. I didn¡¯t want to have to dry out the food warming everything up.¡±

    Once Raquel and Carlito entered the dining room, everyone took a seat at the table and dug into the smothered pork chops with yellow rice. Black beans, avocado slices, and sweet plantains rounded out the mouth-watering meal. Carlito was shoveling food into his mouth with the zeal of a starving man. Raquel¡¯s table manners were forgotten as she spoke around bites of the savory pork. They all loved Emelina¡¯s Spanish food. It was delicious, authentic, and something their mother, who was still absent, couldn¡¯t even be bothered to attempt.

    As Rodrigo took another bite out of his second pork chop, he realized how much he envied his cousins. They ate like this regularly. Their home was clean and beautiful. And they were loved by their parents.

    ¡°A satisfying meal,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°But pizza¡¯s still your favorite?¡±

    ¡°Of course. After all, if one desires it, meat is easy enough to obtain in Hell.¡±

    When everyone had finished their food and given their compliments to the chef, Raquel asked, ¡°Auntie, can we go outside for a while?¡±

    ¡°Awful lot of that going on today. ?Por qu¨¦?¡±

    ¡°Uh...¡± Raquel paused, glancing toward Carlito in a plea for support.

    Carlito must have found the table¡¯s woodwork riveting because he refused to raise his eyes from it as he spoke. ¡°You said something about exploring the new neighborhood.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s it. So, can we go?¡±

    Emelina studied Raquel¡¯s nervous face and Carlito¡¯s guilty one for a few seconds, clearly skeptical, but eventually she sighed. ¡°Clear the table and then you can all go. Be back by 10:00.¡±

    Outside, Raquel and Carlito moved a fair distance away from the house, waving Rodrigo and Jett over, as if Emelina could hear through walls.

    ¡°All right, so, Jett, you¡¯ve noticed how there¡¯s apparently something off about this neighborhood lately, right?¡± Raquel asked. ¡°While you two were out doing whatever lameos do, we got a call from Geo, who heard something very interesting from his friend Wilson.¡±

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    ¡°Ay Dios,¡± Jett said, dropping his face into his palm.

    ¡°What?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°The kid is one of those tin foil hat types. Ninety-nine percent of what he says is bull, but he still gets Geo riled up every time.¡±

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Raquel snapped, refusing to be sidetracked. ¡°Geo says it¡¯s because of this house on Swan Street. Says it¡¯s legit haunted, and that¡¯s what¡¯s got people on edge.¡±

    ¡°Okay...and you¡¯re buying this, Carlito?¡± Jett asked.

    ¡°I mean, she put Geo on speakerphone, and he sounded really freaked out.¡±

    As far as Rodrigo remembered, his little cousin¡¯s voice was usually boisterous and brimming with bravado, so if he failed to put up that front, he must have genuinely believed what he¡¯d heard. Rodrigo couldn¡¯t say he wasn¡¯t curious about all the neighborhood¡¯s shut-ins. But with the mountain of recent problems he was facing, he didn¡¯t want more. ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s strange, but ghosts aren¡¯t real.¡± Then, to the undead demon inhabiting his body, he asked, ¡°Right?¡±

    ¡°Souls can linger for a time after being disembodied, though to my knowledge they wouldn¡¯t be able to interact to the level some humans believe.¡±

    Jett seemed surprised by Rodrigo¡¯s reaction, but nodded. ¡°Exactly, and this isn¡¯t any of our business.¡±

    For a moment, they looked discouraged. Then a mischievous smile crossed Raquel¡¯s face. ¡°I knew you guys were far from alpha males, but yikes. Think you¡¯ll ever get girlfriends being this gutless? The way you two act, you¡¯d be better off in an old-age home where the nurses can take care of your boo-boos.¡±

    ¡°What? We¡¯re not scared. It¡¯d just be a waste of time,¡± Jett replied.

    ¡°You hear something, Carlito?¡±

    ¡°Yep, it sounds a bit like...bawk, bawk, bawk,¡± Carlito taunted, as he began flapping his arms. Raquel joined in, and they started running in circles around them. Rodrigo had forgotten how annoying Carlito could be in the rare instances he was influenced by their sister.

    ¡°I suppose doing something real is preferable to those tedious virtual diversions.¡±

    ¡°All right already,¡± Rodrigo submitted.

    ¡°Told you it¡¯d work,¡± Raquel muttered as she bumped fists with Carlito.

    ¡°If you guys are all dead set on this, I guess I¡¯m in, too,¡± Jett said. ¡°But let¡¯s stay together. We¡¯ve got over an hour before we have to come back. No need to rush.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only three blocks away. Let¡¯s go!¡± Raquel yelled and took off running.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Rodrigo said, chasing after her.

    When Raquel finally stopped at the corner of Swan Street, it was as a distant third in what had developed into an impromptu race. Jett ran track and had the longest legs, so it astonished no one that he came in first, though with all the physical exertion Rodrigo had been through lately, he made him work for it.

    ¡°So, this is it?¡± Carlito asked as he caught his breath at last and looked at the old detached house made of dark bricks with a conical roof. Blackout pleated shades blocked the windows, dashing any hope of ending this with a quick peek inside.

    Jett grimaced as he examined the neglected front yard, teeming with overgrown plants and littered with garbage. As if they¡¯d waltzed into a bad part of the neighborhood, many of the surrounding houses also looked like they¡¯d seen better days. A couple had red and white ¡°For Sale¡± signs posted in their yards.

    Busybody that Raquel was, Rodrigo still hadn¡¯t understood why she¡¯d been so intent on this until he saw her phone in hand. She was recording this little ghost hunt, probably not believing a word of it, but hoping something might happen that she could post on social media. Fearless in her pursuit of clout, she pushed past the waist-high weeds and went up to the rusting metal door. She pounded on it, then waited for all of five seconds. When there was no response, she grabbed the knob and shoved the door open. ¡°Who¡¯s taking the lead?¡±

    ¡°Pull back for a sec. Ruy, let¡¯s talk,¡± Jett said, putting some distance between himself and the house. ¡°Look, I hate to be that guy right now because it seemed like a joke when we were talking about it. But I can¡¯t be the only one getting bad vibes from this place. It looks like a squatter¡¯s paradise, or a drug den. Should you really let them go in? Wouldn¡¯t go myself if I didn¡¯t know hearing we backed out would only make Geo more interested, and he¡¯d come here without me, pronto.¡±

    ¡°I get what you¡¯re saying. But this was their idea. If we tell them it could be dangerous and then just go in ourselves, they¡¯ll be pissed.¡± Giving it some thought, Rodrigo said, ¡°Follow my lead.¡± They walked back over to Raquel and Carlito. ¡°Listen, you guys need to stay out¡ª¡±

    Before Rodrigo could even finish his sentence, Raquel sprinted for the door.

    Jett blocked her path. ¡°Stop, Raquel, this is important.¡±

    ¡°Uh-uh. No way you¡¯re leaving us out here, so we miss out on the fun.¡±

    ¡°But we need someone outside just in case,¡± Rodrigo said. ¡°What we¡¯re doing is illegal. If a cop drops by while we¡¯re all in there, we could end up getting arrested. This way, if you guys see anyone, you can walk away and text one of us.¡± Even though he was playing it up to keep them out of harm¡¯s way, it wouldn¡¯t be the worst thing to have lookouts.

    Holding the door open, the little Rodrigo could see inside looked fairly normal as far as abandoned houses went. Broken furniture, scattered possessions, and paint peeling off the walls. Still, not as bad as he imagined. As he stood in the middle of the living room, he could hear indistinct noises from above.

    ¡°Stay there, or I¡¯ll delete your rogue¡¯s save data when we get home,¡± Jett warned a seething Raquel before closing the door behind him. Without the light from outside, they were in almost complete darkness. ¡°Hello!¡±

    There was no response.

    ¡°Let¡¯s check upstairs.¡± Rodrigo took his phone out, intending to use its flashlight, but having gone days without being charged, it was dead.

    As they crept up the steps to the second floor, it became pitch-black. He heard the noise again, this time louder. It sounded like...gnawing. Maybe an animal had broken in. The stench of something rotting was also becoming stronger the farther up they went. At this point, the bad feeling Rodrigo had gotten from seeing the front yard was intensifying, but morbid curiosity pushed him onward.

    ¡°Find a light switch or something,¡± Jett whispered.

    ¡°Have you seen this place? No one¡¯s paying Con Ed a dime here.¡±

    ¡°If it doesn¡¯t work, I should be able to fix it. For now, let¡¯s just find one.¡±

    As flies buzzed around him, Rodrigo slid his hands along the wall, trying not to fall down the stairs. He felt something wet and sticky on them. He held his hands up to his nose, smelling a vaguely familiar odor. His pulse quickened as he recognized the coppery scent.

    ¡°Got it,¡± Jett said, turning on the light, which amazingly still functioned.

    Although it was flickering, it allowed Rodrigo to fully absorb the horror before him. His hands were slick with blood. Stunned, he took a slow look around. Gore was splattered all over the hallway and various decomposing body parts, covered in masses of writhing maggots, cluttered the floor. Jett vomited and Rodrigo barely kept down the urge to do the same as he gagged, his stomach churning.

    In front of them, a person with long, straggly hair, wearing blood-soaked rags, was crouching and devouring something. Startled by the sudden light, the being spun, dropping its meal to the ground. Its long, gaunt face held unfocused red-rimmed eyes and a wide mouth baring bloody yellow fangs. The creature glared at Rodrigo as it scraped its four-inch claws against each other, twitching erratically. Now, his eyes fell on what it had been eating.

    A human heart.

    ¡°Wake up, slave, that¡¯s a demon!¡± Resent shouted as the drooling creature speed-crawled toward Rodrigo.

 Chapter 9 â€“ The Creature

    In mid-crawl, the creature sprang to its feet. Standing so tall its head nearly hit the ceiling, it had scaly, grayish skin, and contrary to the carnage proving its voracity, was thin to the point of emaciation. The demon¡¯s piercing screech rent the air as it lunged at Rodrigo.

    Self-preservation overrode shock, forcing him to stumble back. Still, the creature¡¯s claws tore through his jacket and raked down his shoulder, slicing it into a gory mess. The pain didn¡¯t register immediately. But as the creature licked his blood from its claws, its eyes rolling back into its head in euphoria, Rodrigo collapsed. He screamed at a pitch he hadn¡¯t been able to reach since hitting puberty. His shoulder felt like it was on fire, far eclipsing any pain he had ever experienced.

    Rodrigo clutched his shoulder, like that would keep it from splitting apart. The blood flowing down his chest, the blinking overhead light, and the nauseating reek of death and decay were paralyzing.

    ¡°Exit the building, now!¡± Resent commanded. The desperate shout echoing in his head wrenched him back from the brink of despair.

    Jett was trembling, crossing himself in prayer repeatedly as he edged farther up the hallway to help somehow.

    Rodrigo scrambled away from the creature and onto his feet. Willing his quivering lips to form words, he choked out, ¡°No! Find another way out, away from the kids!¡±

    Jett bolted back downstairs. Ignoring his cousin, the twitching creature slashed at Rodrigo again. The taste of fresh blood must have driven it berserk, because it swung wildly at his head and missed, burying its claws deep in the wall. He was backing away at a glacial pace, watching the frenzied creature in horrified fascination.

    ¡°Down here!¡± Jett shouted as the creature ripped its claws out and escaped.

    Rodrigo made a break for the staircase, but tripped over a severed arm so small it must have belonged to a child half his brother¡¯s age. He pitched forward and tumbled down the steps, spitting out a string of the worst curses in his vocabulary.

    ¡°Ruy!¡± Jett yelled, turning back for him.

    ¡°Keep going!¡± Rodrigo got up and ran. He could hear the creature in pursuit as it dragged its claws against the walls, and now, it was hissing. He saw the window Jett had opened and vaulted over the windowsill after him, not daring to look back. ¡°Take the kids and run!¡±

    ¡°Oh God! Don¡¯t die, man,¡± Jett said as he rushed away.

    The creature crashed through the raised windowpane, shattering it, and landing nimbly on its bare feet, not looking hurt in the slightest. It trampled over shards of glass toward Rodrigo and slashed down at him. He smashed the nebulae into the ground, just in time to ascend out of the way. But with the monster¡¯s height and hands that reached its knees, a hop was enough to rob any notion of the sky granting him safety.

    Rodrigo cried out in agony as the creature¡¯s claws gouged a chunk of flesh out of his left thigh. He smacked into the pavement, bleeding profusely from his leg as darkness threatened to overtake his vision. This thing was going to murder and eat him.

    The creature craned its neck up, sniffing the air like a bloodhound, and turning to where Raquel and Carlito last were.

    ¡°I must have been deranged to think you could be useful and kill it,¡± Resent said as he took the reins. ¡°Eyes over here, you putrid beast!¡±

    The creature hissed and spun, dashing at Resent with its claws set low enough to gut him. Resent dodged and attempted to sweep its feet from under it, but the monster was faster. It cackled as it caught Resent by his ankle in a crushing grip, hoisted him over its head, and slammed him into the concrete.

    The prince recovered within a second, rolling into a heel kick to the creature¡¯s wrist that broke its hold on his other leg. He engulfed his right fist in the nebulae, and slid between the creature¡¯s legs. The creature whirled as Resent rose behind it and swung at its chest. It ignored the approaching attack and stabbed for Resent¡¯s throat. However, the strike was powerful enough to send it spinning backward as something in its sternum audibly cracked and its claws missed.

    Resent¡¯s eyes gleamed with exhilaration, his typical hubris replaced with something far more primal. ¡°Come on then. You¡¯ve gone and stirred my bloodlust. Don¡¯t disappoint me now.¡±

    For a moment, the creature wavered. It couldn¡¯t have been used to its prey putting up such a fight. But it quickly regained its ferocity and rushed at Resent. Before clashing with Resent¡¯s punch, the creature¡¯s claws veered under his fist, slicing the tendons and ligaments in his wrist.

    Resent growled as he jumped backward. He coiled nebulae tightly around the wound to form a makeshift bandage, aiming to avoid hemorrhaging as it regenerated. Beneath the tattered, bloodied fabric of his jacket, Rodrigo¡¯s shoulder could already be seen eerily mending itself back together, as if rewinding time.

    Resent put his left arm under his crippled right. His nebulae shot forward, trying to trap the creature inside a twister, but it slipped away. Then the creature squatted, stuck its long claws into the ground, and waited for it to subside. Rodrigo was wondering if that attack ever worked, when something clicked.

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    ¡°If we switched right now, would the twister keep going?¡± Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure. Every time he had traded places with the prince, his nebulae had dissipated. ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea.¡±

    Resent hesitated for a long moment. ¡°Fine. Don¡¯t get me killed.¡±

    As Rodrigo was returned control, greeted by a fresh wave of mind-numbing pain from his lacerated wrist, Raquel and Carlito climbed through the broken window. They must have heard Rodrigo and Jett screaming at the top of their lungs and come to investigate. He just hoped they spared themselves the nightmare fuel of the second floor.

    ¡°Bro, w-what¡¯s going on h-here?¡± Carlito stammered, his tan face drained of color. The monster with its claws plunged into the ground, the twister of nebulae, and his brother covered in blood must have made quite the picture.

    ¡°Who? Who the hell is that?¡± Raquel demanded, aiming her phone at the creature like she was filming a Tiktok video. ¡°Is this a prank? Payback for us calling you chickens?¡±

    Woozy from blood loss, Rodrigo didn¡¯t have time to explain or drive them away. While the twister was ongoing, the creature was defenseless. He brought a shaky left hand up in front of him and focused. A nebulous sphere the size of a handball burst from his palm and launched forward.

    ¡°This was your grand plan? Have you not been paying...¡± Resent stopped as two black tendrils protruded from the sphere. Rodrigo had envisioned the spiked tips stabbing through the crook of the creature¡¯s elbows, making it lose its grip on the ground. Instead, using only its claws for balance, the creature lifted and held its entire body weight in the air. Raising both legs high, with its heels, the creature kicked the pair of spikes downward, straight into the concrete.

    Raquel¡¯s phone clattered to the ground. ¡°Am I crazy? Could¡¯ve swore I just saw...¡±

    As the twister dissipated, the creature yanked its claws free and got to its feet.

    Carlito had retreated through the window, and was crouching as he peeked out from inside the house.

    ¡°For God¡¯s sake, come on, you two!¡± Jett shouted as he came around the corner. ¡°The only reason Ruy¡¯s not running is to give you a chance to stay alive!¡±

    ¡°Fat chance of me leaving my brother behind.¡± Raquel picked up one of the house¡¯s loose bricks and chucked it at the creature¡¯s head. As if composed of rubber, the brick ricocheted off the monstrous face. The creature¡¯s eyes darted onto her and she shuddered, taking a big step back. Her determination evaporated by the time the creature hissed, striding in her direction. The sound alone made Raquel trip and sent her crawling backward until she hit the wall.

    Now that the creature was mere meters away, and any delusions it was a giant homeless lunatic were torpedoed, Carlito shrieked and disappeared into the house, sprinting faster than Rodrigo ever thought his brother could.

    Generating his electric armor, Jett dashed toward the creature in a blur of brilliant emerald light, and did a baseball slide that knocked it down.

    Raquel wiped away welled up tears as she tried to steady her breathing. ¡°Jett, t-that you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah! Now, get outta here before it kills¡ª¡±

    Rodrigo never heard the rest of what his cousin was shouting. Pain detonated in the back of his head and spine. The creature had bounced up and tackled him to the ground, kneeling over him with its claws hanging above his skull. He was a nanosecond from death as its rancid breath assailed his nostrils. Its near-perpetual snarl had curved into a grin, fangs parted for a feast.

    A scorching blast of flame struck the creature¡¯s hand, melting it. Rodrigo screamed as its liquefied flesh dripped on his face, scalding him. The creature leaped off him with a screech and bounded in the opposite direction until it was out of sight.

    Rodrigo couldn¡¯t even stand as he tried to unravel what had occurred. Blinking back tears of pain, he looked over his shoulder. As he saw the masked figure standing there, it was like he had traded one circle of Hell for another.

    ¡°Uh, Ruy, you know this guy?¡± Jett asked as he helped Rodrigo to his feet.

    ¡°You could say that. This is the demon that burned our house down.¡±

    ¡°Whoa, whoa,¡± Raquel said. ¡°Demons? What are you talking about? They¡¯re not real.¡±

    ¡°What else would you call that monster?¡± Carlito murmured. Though he was referring to the creature, his eyes were locked on Flint.

    ¡°Could¡¯ve been some kind of rare animal...like Bigfoot or¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hush,¡± Flint ordered as he passed Raquel by. He was making a beeline for Rodrigo. ¡°Is your better half asleep on the job? That¡¯s the only reason I can fathom you would be allowed to fight something of that caliber.¡±

    Resent took over, and Flint stopped in his tracks.

    ¡°I figured as much,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°In our last fight, the thrill of being in battle after so long made it difficult to think with clarity. In hindsight, I was struck by how odd it was you avoided hand-to-hand combat when I took control. Yet again, once we switched, you decided to keep your distance. Even after unleashing the full potential of this boy¡¯s body, the competent demon you present yourself as should be strong enough to overpower me.¡±

    Flint clapped slowly, seeming impressed by Resent¡¯s deduction. ¡°I never expected you to see through me. Good to know you weren¡¯t just lounging around your castle all those years.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Raquel asked Carlito.

    ¡°Remember when we sneaked out Friday night? The way bro told me, he was possessed by Resent...the Prince of Hell.¡±

    Raquel stared blankly at him for a moment and then loosed a short high-pitched laugh. Carlito looked at her like she had lost her mind, but Rodrigo knew she didn¡¯t believe him. She shook her head. ¡°Do you know how stupid you sound right now? Maybe there was a gas leak in that house, or auntie fed us expired meat.¡±

    ¡°Pipe down, brats,¡± Resent snarled, making them both flinch, then returned his focus to Flint. ¡°Awfully impudent for a pretender. I¡¯ve had my share of experience with illusionists. Now, are you going to reveal yourself, or must I make you?¡±

    ¡°Check your arrogance. As you are, you couldn¡¯t make me do a thing. That said, at this rate, if I leave the pair of you in the dark any longer, you¡¯re guaranteed to get yourselves killed.¡± Flint reached up for the mask on his face.

 Chapter 10 â€“ Beneath The Mask

    The instant Flint removed his mask, every aspect of the demon¡¯s appearance changed. In front of them stood a young woman with snow-colored hair and brows. Her angled bob, which fell just below her chin, had a slightly messy look, and was combed to the right side of her face, nearly covering her eye. An eye that wasn¡¯t red at all, but a light blue. She was slightly taller than Rodrigo, but a good deal shorter than the demon they had been staring at a second ago. Even her clothes, while still black, were more modern.

    Rodrigo was as baffled as the rest of his family looked, but kept his questions to himself for the moment.

    ¡°How did that mask allow you to impersonate a demon?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°It lets me change into whatever I want my target, or in this case, targets, to see. If I want to be seen at all.¡± That¡¯s why no one else saw her on the roof.

    From her first word, Rodrigo recognized the girl¡¯s voice as belonging to who he had mistaken for Flint¡¯s accomplice. She wasn¡¯t working with Flint. She was Flint. He must have heard her real voice when he was losing consciousness because his mind was too distracted by pain to be suckered into the illusion.

    ¡°Interesting, but not enough so to stop me from killing you,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°Another fight would be pointless. Not only would you lose, but we¡¯re on the same side.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hear her out,¡± Rodrigo said grudgingly.

    Apparently displeased with the idea, Resent returned control.

    ¡°First, my name is Adena. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re confused by my actions, but you should have at least realized it was never my aim to kill you.¡±

    ¡°How am I supposed to believe that after you burned my house down? That easily could¡¯ve killed us all!¡±

    Adena narrowed her eyes. ¡°You can¡¯t be this dense. Do you think if I was trying to kill you, you could have left, then reentered a burning building? I scouted the place out beforehand and made a path for you and your family to escape. And who do you think carried your unconscious body off the roof so you weren¡¯t incinerated? No. If I wanted to kill you, you¡¯d be dead.¡±

    Rodrigo paused because regardless of her bluntness, what she said made sense. ¡°All right, but that still doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯ve done everything you have.¡±

    ¡°I was testing Resent, seeing if I could use him for what¡¯s coming. Your house was just collateral damage. It doesn¡¯t matter either way. Houses will be the least of anyone¡¯s concerns by January 1<sup>st</sup>.¡±

    ¡°And what happens then?¡± Jett asked.

    ¡°Hell invades earth.¡±

    ¡°What!¡± Resent yelled so loud Rodrigo¡¯s head ached.

    ¡°Calm down. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll explain,¡± Rodrigo said. ¡°A little more detail would be nice.¡±

    ¡°I have a contact from Hell who keeps me posted. Basically, to ring in the new year, legions of demons are going to make their way here and demolish everything in their path, under the orders of King Misery.¡±

    ¡°Misery, the King of Hell? What nonsense is this?¡±

    ¡°Contact from Hell?¡± Rodrigo asked, taken aback by how mundane she made it sound. ¡°Well...did your contact explain why Misery¡¯s doing this?¡±

    Adena scoffed. ¡°Does a child need an elaborate reason to burn ants with a magnifying glass? No. He sees something incapable of defending itself he can assert his dominance over. And that¡¯s the mentality demons have toward us. All that¡¯s known is it¡¯s happening, and he has no interest in our surrender.¡±

    ¡°And what do you plan to do about that?¡± Jett asked.

    ¡°The idea is to survive, which will be easier if our kind sticks together.¡± As Jett opened his mouth to argue, Adena added, ¡°Did you delude yourself into believing it was serendipity that you got off scot-free for electrocuting people? I cleaned up your mess because I have a use for you as well.¡±

    Jett¡¯s throat bobbed. In a tight voice, he asked, ¡°A-are they...dead?¡±

    For the first time, Adena hesitated. ¡°No. You temporarily paralyzed them and gave them minor electrical burns. But you won¡¯t have to worry about them reporting you...so long as you cooperate.¡± Then to Rodrigo, she said, ¡°We¡¯ll meet again soon, but for now, I have to go.¡±

    She turned and walked away, without giving any of them a second glance.

    When she was gone, Raquel asked, ¡°Okay, so, guys, she belongs in a nuthouse, right?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Resent knows a demon called Misery, so that much at least¡ª¡±

    ¡°Uh, bro,¡± Carlito said, glancing around anxiously. ¡°Can we take off before that thing comes back to finish the job now that the pyromaniac¡¯s gone?¡±

    At the mention of the creature, Rodrigo noticed his hands were still shaking. He¡¯d never frozen like he had at the sight of it. And if that thing did return, injured and furious, he didn¡¯t see it leaving until they were all dead.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Rodrigo said, running at a pace Raquel and Carlito could keep up with. They didn¡¯t stop until they were outside Jett¡¯s house.

    ¡°I think we might need an ambulance,¡± Carlito said with wide, watery eyes.

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    ¡°Why? Is anyone hurt?¡± Rodrigo asked, giving them all a once-over.

    ¡°You,¡± Carlito responded, pointing at him with a trembling finger.

    Rodrigo examined himself in the porch light. With the amount of blood he lost, anyone else would have died. Resent¡¯s regeneration had closed the wounds before they became life-threatening, likely creating new blood cells, and even took away the pain, but blood still soaked his clothes. ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t make sense, but I¡¯m fine. Thanks to Resent, the wounds are completely healed. We can¡¯t let Mom or Emelina know about any of this.¡±

    ¡°Why not? We need the marines, or the FBI, or something!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being too loud,¡± Raquel said in a low, irritated tone.

    ¡°How do we even hide this?¡± Jett asked. ¡°Ruy¡¯s clothes are wrecked and Carlito...had an accident.¡±

    Carlito looked down at the dark wet spot that had spread on his jeans, his face reddening. ¡°Liar! I didn¡¯t pee myself! This was something else!¡±

    Raquel smacked him upside the head, their short-lived coalition broken. ¡°Shut up, you baby! If anyone sees us now, they¡¯ll call the police, and this turns into an even bigger disaster.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Jett said. ¡°I dunno how much you two saw in that house, but plenty of people have probably called the cops by now, so they might be extra motivated. They show up, maybe figure out what Ruy and me can do, and we end up on lab tables in some black site.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Besides, that thing is long gone,¡± Rodrigo said, trying to reassure himself as much as them. He didn¡¯t like seeing his sister mimic their mother¡¯s abusive tendencies, and though understandably, his brother was bordering on hysterical. ¡°Okay. Jett, you and Raquel go in first, and distract Emelina somehow. While you¡¯re doing that, me and Carlito run for the stairs. Then we change our clothes.¡±

    ¡°Sus, but better than nothing. Take whatever you need from the dresser,¡± Jett said. ¡°All right, nobody says another word about what happened until we get into the room, okay?¡±

    They waited outside in contemplative silence for a few minutes, composing themselves the best they could. Fortunately, when they entered, Emelina was watching a novela, and was so captivated by it she greeted them without turning away from the screen. Miriam was still nowhere in sight.

    ¡°Bathroom,¡± Rodrigo blurted as he hurried to the stairs.

    ¡°Same,¡± Carlito said, following behind him.

    In the bedroom, Rodrigo went to dig through the six-drawer dresser Jett and Geo shared. He took out a purple long-sleeved shirt, black running pants, and an empty drawstring bag. Stretching a pair of Geo¡¯s underwear and sweats out to Carlito, he said, ¡°You go first.¡±

    Staring out the window with a faraway look in his eyes, Carlito didn¡¯t seem to hear him.

    ¡°Bro,¡± Rodrigo said softly, nudging him with the clothes.

    ¡°Oh, s-sorry.¡± His brother took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯ll knock when I¡¯m done.¡±

    Once Carlito left, Rodrigo removed the ruined jacket, shirt, and pants, putting them in the bag. Other than a few specks of blood, the scarf made it out unscathed. When he heard the three knocks, he waited a few seconds before heading to the bathroom.

    Looking at himself in the mirror, he decided to take a brief shower. After the water that swirled down the drain was no longer streaked with red, Rodrigo got out, drying himself off. Other than the pants needing to be rolled up, the clothes were a good fit.

    When Rodrigo reentered the bedroom, they were all there, edging toward the breakdowns adrenaline had delayed. Carlito was the worst off, lying down and crying quietly, while Jett patted him on the back.

    Raquel was pacing the room. ¡°What the hell happened in that house? What was that thing? How do you guys have powers? And did that Athena bitch really burn our house down? Can we sue her?¡±

    ¡°Adena,¡± Jett corrected.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I said,¡± Raquel snapped.

    ¡°I think you better tell us everything, bro,¡± Carlito said through hiccups. He was sitting up now, the blanket drawn around him like a cloak.

    If anything Rodrigo could say would help, then he¡¯d gladly fill them in. ¡°All right, this is going to take a bit, but don¡¯t say anything until the end.¡±

    When everyone nodded, he began. The only thing he held back was Resent¡¯s dreams. Rodrigo didn¡¯t even know if Resent was aware he was seeing his memories. There was an awkward silence as everyone tried to take all that in.

    ¡°With what we saw, maybe I can buy demons, but I still don¡¯t buy this whole prince thing,¡± Raquel said, crossing her arms. ¡°You could¡¯ve just been deepening your voice and using fancy words. Show me him.¡±

    Resent took over, nebulae billowing from the index finger he held a few inches below her chin and tipping her head back to give her a good look at him. ¡°Here I am, girl. If it¡¯s proof of my lineage you desire, the nebulae speaks for itself. Summon me like some serf again at your own peril.¡± His point made, he ceded control back to Rodrigo.

    Raquel backpedaled, her eyes wide from seeing the stranger that was just in front of her. Then as she shook her head, in almost a whisper, she said, ¡°I...I can¡¯t believe it. This is insane.¡±

    ¡°And then there¡¯s the demons invading on New Year¡¯s Day to worry about,¡± Carlito said.

    ¡°If she¡¯s right, it¡¯s nice to have a heads-up, but I dunno what she expects from us,¡± Jett said. ¡°The military¡¯s always itching to test out new weapons. They can handle it.¡±

    ¡°Can they?¡± Rodrigo asked. ¡°I mean, if just one demon¡¯s been causing all this mayhem, imagine when they come in hordes. Worse comes to worst, we might need to chip in.¡± As Carlito¡¯s mouth opened to form a perfect O, he continued, ¡°Not you two. Me and Jett.¡±

    ¡°Chip in?¡± Jett echoed in disbelief, rising off the bed. ¡°Yeah, no. I don¡¯t care what she tries to blackmail me with. If you and your sketchy albino girlfriend wanna throw on costumes, and assemble the Avengers, have fun. You can leave me the hell outta it. I swear, it¡¯s like you missed the part where we were nearly torn to pieces by t-that thing.¡±

    ¡°Hard to forget, since I was the one bleeding,¡± Rodrigo said, not intending for it to sound so accusatory. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you guys had to go through that. It was a rough introduction to all this, but the best thing we can do is move past it.¡±

    ¡°Now, I remember why I stopped hanging out with you so much. That creepy way of yours of shrugging off just about everything that happens to you. I¡¯m not convinced you¡¯d be shook even without the magical healing and a demon explaining this crap. Wanna know why the rest of us can¡¯t move past it? Because, unlike you, we were terrified of getting killed out there!¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s temper flared, and for a second, he almost exploded. But he bit his inner cheek until he tasted blood and kept his cool. ¡°Well, I guess we¡¯ll just have to see what happens.¡±

    ¡°Forget it,¡± Raquel said, clearly not wanting the friction between Rodrigo and Jett to grow further. ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about any of this anymore.¡±

    ¡°What else matters right now?¡± Jett asked.

    ¡°Nothing, but that thing¡¯s eyes are gonna give me nightmares tonight. Maybe for life.¡± Raquel turned the PS5 back on and grabbed a controller. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the game. At least we can kill things like that there.¡±

    As Raquel stretched out a controller to him, Jett¡¯s expression hardened as if he was about to slap it out of her hand or yell. Instead, he sighed and stormed out of the room. Rodrigo couldn¡¯t fault him for being angry. Jett was frightened, confused, and looking for someone to blame. The infuriating thing was how in his cousin''s mind, that person was Rodrigo. As if he had suggested they go to that house. As if he hadn¡¯t held the line and stopped anyone else from being hurt. As if life was so meaningless to him, he hadn¡¯t been afraid to die.

 Chapter 11 â€“ Sires

    Over an hour later, everyone had moved on to solitary activities. After only Raquel was in the mood for gaming, she went back to the shooting game, playing online. Despite having encouraged the others not to dwell on the creature, it had impressed Rodrigo how well Raquel was coping. Until he noticed how much worse she was playing than earlier. The whole time, she was trash-talking everyone over the microphone, teammates included.

    Jett was pointedly ignoring them all, scarfing down chocolate chip cookies Emelina had baked while they were out. He covered his laptop in crumbs as he searched for credible information on demons and the state of his neighborhood.

    Oddly enough, at least outwardly, Carlito was the most composed of the three, as if he had taken a Valium at some point. He had been so quiet, lying on the top bunk, Rodrigo was sure he managed to fall asleep through the racket of Raquel¡¯s tantrum. But when he checked on his brother, he found him wide-eyed, staring up at the ceiling with a preoccupied frown.

    Rodrigo wished Adena had given him the chance to ask more questions. Mysterious motives or not, she was more forthcoming than Resent. Other than his ominous introduction to Raquel, the prince hadn¡¯t even spoken since learning his mentor-turned-killer was now usurper of his throne as well.

    A little after 11:00, Emelina called Rodrigo from the living room. She was probably already talking to Edward. As he traipsed down the steps, his chest grew tight as anxiety crept in. The missing money had become a distant concern in light of everything else that had happened in the hours since he¡¯d learned of it. Yet here he was, about to speak with his father for the first time since he was eleven. Maybe he¡¯d get an explanation for why the man had carved his children out of his life.

    ¡°He¡¯s right here,¡± Emelina said as she passed him the phone, then walked off to give him privacy.

    Slowly, Rodrigo raised it to his ear. ¡°Um...hi.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Son. How are you?¡±

    He had to fight the insane urge to answer honestly. ¡°All right, I guess.¡±

    ¡°I heard you haven¡¯t been receiving the money I¡¯ve been sending.¡± The softness in Edward¡¯s voice was disorienting. Since his father was never one for being photographed, he could only vaguely recall what Edward looked like. Foremost, fairly tall for a father of two boys who had always been shorter than most of their peers. His skin was also paler than theirs, closest in complexion to Raquel. But over the years, Rodrigo had built him up in his mind as a callous human being. Then again, a single sin had its way of poisoning your entire perception of a person. ¡°Son, are you still there?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here, and I¡¯ve never gotten any mail from you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a problem. The first envelopes I sent when you were fourteen each contained $2,000, but they increased annually. I had intended for it to be an allowance for all of you.¡±

    Despite trying to feign nonchalance, Rodrigo gasped, surprised at the amount. In recent years, his family had been living as if paycheck-to-paycheck. Even if his mother had remained unemployed since Edward left, if she¡¯d been using that money to supplement the child support he sent, shouldn¡¯t they at least have had property insurance? ¡°When¡¯d you send the last one?¡±

    ¡°Exactly a week ago. Emelina tells me you suspect your mother of theft.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve had my issues with Miriam, but that the woman would stoop so low...¡± The sudden harshness to Edward¡¯s words spoke of an animosity Rodrigo had never been aware of. Incredibly, he felt a flicker of offense on his mother¡¯s behalf at being vilified by the man who¡¯d put her in such a position. ¡°Rest assured, I will discuss this with her. For the time being, Emelina has agreed to receive the money instead, so you can pick it up directly from her.¡±

    ¡°Works for me.¡±

    ¡°Good. Oh, and how is your memory treating you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have dementia yet,¡± Rodrigo joked. Edward didn¡¯t spare him so much as a chuckle, so he added, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°When you were younger...no, never mind. If there are no new gaps, you must have outgrown it.¡± After dropping that disturbing tidbit on him, Edward said, ¡°Hmm. Well, if that¡¯s all, I¡¯m in the middle of some crucial work. I¡¯m glad we could clear this up. Take care of yourself.¡± Edward hung up before Rodrigo could even say goodbye.

    He had made the mistake of getting his hopes up for a heart-to-heart, as if the universe felt like cutting him a single break today. Irrational thoughts of potentially reuniting his family had blossomed and withered within minutes. Edward couldn¡¯t even be bothered to simulate sympathy over the fire, or inquire about his other children¡¯s well-being. All that interested him was ensuring Miriam didn¡¯t get more of his money.

    His disappointment must have been palpable, because when he returned the phone, Emelina said, ¡°Honey, he would¡¯ve loved to talk more, but he has a lot of time-sensitive work.¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Yeah, I get it. Thanks,¡± Rodrigo said with as much gratitude as he could muster.

    Back in the bedroom, Raquel was still playing, but thankfully, had switched the TV¡¯s audio output to a wireless headset and gotten off the mic. Whether because she had blown off enough steam, or the others had grown tired of her shouting, ¡°Fight me in real life!¡± he couldn¡¯t be sure.

    Rodrigo stretched out again on the bottom bunk. The first conversation with his father in over five years took less than five minutes. He tried to set it aside because thinking about it was making him sick to his stomach. Covering up and closing his eyes, he wanted to be conscious less than ever.

    ¡°What are you doing? I realize you struggled with that demon, but you can¡¯t be this tired,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°Oh, he speaks. And that¡¯s after training for hours. I¡¯ve had to deal with more craziness in the past few days than I have in my entire life. I¡¯m overdue for a break.¡±

    ¡°Listen, I¡¯m bored and not at all weary. If we spend the next several hours training, I just might feel so inclined to provide some answers to your seemingly infinite questions.¡±

    ¡°Withholding info that could be the difference between life and death as a prize for obedience? Real smart. I know you¡¯re probably not used to hearing no, being a prince and all, but I¡¯m sure you know what it means.¡±

    ¡°Such cheek. I suppose I have been too lenient. According to your sire, you¡¯re an amnesiac, so allow me to refresh your memory.¡± Resent slowed his speech, like he was dictating to a toddler, ¡°You are the slave. I am the master. You do as I command. Refusal is not an option.¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Rodrigo muttered.

    ¡°What?¡± Resent asked, incredulous. ¡°What did you just say?¡±

    ¡°Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!¡± Rodrigo yelled, his internal voice rising with each repetition. They were two simple words, and yet, they were intoxicating. ¡°I¡¯m sick of this shit!¡±

    Flipping out on a demon that could possess him whenever he wished wasn¡¯t wise. But Rodrigo was fed up with Resent acting like he owned him. Any other day, he would¡¯ve played it safe, bottled up his rage, and given in. Today, though, was hands down the worst day of his life. With Adena being needlessly cryptic, his mother stealing from him for years, Jett lashing out at him, that creature nearly killing him, and what his father considered a conversation, almost everyone was pushing him around. He half-expected Raquel to kick him in the nuts before the night was through.

    ¡°I¡¯ll simply take control if you want to be this much of a wretch.¡±

    ¡°Give it your best shot,¡± Rodrigo snapped, trying to block out Resent¡¯s voice.

    The splitting headache that followed was easily the most painful Rodrigo had ever suffered. His vision was blurring, his ears were ringing, and he was pretty sure he was bleeding slightly out of his left nostril. He couldn¡¯t move a muscle to reach up and confirm it. Gritting his teeth was all that was stopping him from screaming aloud. If he wasn¡¯t already lying down, he would have collapsed.

    And yet, for some reason, the prince wasn¡¯t able to seize control. Rodrigo didn¡¯t understand why, but soon, a sullen Resent stopped ranting and allowed him to rest.

    #

    ¡°Father, Misery is of common stock,¡± Resent stated. The prince looked a few years older than he had been in the last dream. ¡°How is he capable of accomplishing such feats?¡±

    The question was directed at the demon sitting next to him. From the lines on his face, he appeared to be Misery¡¯s senior, but younger than Heinrik. He was in heavy, blood-red armor, and had short straight hair the same dark shade of blue as Resent¡¯s. On his head was a crown the color of his armor, studded with brilliant obsidian gems, and adorned with three curved spikes sticking out of the front to mimic horns.

    The pair were sitting in thrones, looking down at a vast arena from several hundred feet. Misery was in battle against five armed opponents, who each wore a cape with a different intricate symbol emblazoned on it. On Misery¡¯s black cape was a gold symbol that resembled the skull of a tri-horned demon.

    ¡°Misery had a tremendous talent for combat even when we met in our youth. Only later did I recognize the shrewd mind and determination that would mold him into our city¡¯s finest general.¡± The king paused as he took in the battle. The warriors Misery was up against were all skilled, but he was cutting them down with relative ease. ¡°As the centuries pass, you come to realize all a strong bloodline grants you is an advantage. There are demons who have never set foot in any of the six great cities, yet have strength surpassing my own.¡±

    ¡°Strength that surpasses yours? You are the king! No one should have strength that rivals yours, let alone surpasses it!¡± If not for the blood-thirsty demons cheering and screaming all around the arena, Resent¡¯s outburst might have been heard. The highest-seated row of audience members were about fifty feet lower than the king and prince, however.

    ¡°If you are to retain a single lesson from me, then let it be that factors such as rank or upbringing are merely indicators of what one may be capable. Overestimating your competence due to your position will deservedly get you killed.¡±

    Before the prince could respond, the crowd went wild. Misery had decapitated his last opponent.

    ¡°Incredible!¡± a voice boomed, on the opposite side of the arena from where the king and prince sat. ¡°Misery has single-handedly slain a conqueror from each of the other great cities. He has proven once again why our capital of Dreadmus reigns supreme!¡±

    ¡°King Strife, I am your will!¡± Misery roared with a smile, pointing his sword up at Resent and his father.

    ¡°Strife, Strife, Strife, Strife!¡± the demons in the arena chanted.

    Strife smirked as he looked around at his subjects. Resent scowled as he stared at his greatest obstacle, seated on the larger throne.

 Chapter 12 â€“ Breaking Point

    Rodrigo woke to a bare foot kicking him in the chest. He shot up to look at his attacker, only to find Carlito sleeping upside down next to him. Yesterday¡¯s trauma either made him forget or not want to sleep in his bed in the guest room. Jett was already gone from the top bunk, possibly out with Emelina doing the Christmas shopping she mentioned.

    As he went into the bathroom to gargle with some mouthwash, seeing his reflection stopped him dead. The dark blue flecks in his hair had developed into immediately noticeable streaks. Rodrigo wasn¡¯t particularly attached to his black hair, but he didn¡¯t enjoy calling attention to himself, either. Worse, if Resent¡¯s presence was somehow permanently altering Rodrigo¡¯s body to resemble his own, were his eyes next?

    Thinking about their argument last night, though he was sick to death of being controlled and bullied, he may have overreacted somewhat to the prince¡¯s latest ridicule. His bigger concern was how that would impact their strange partnership. If the demon was conscious, he was unusually silent.

    After nudging Carlito awake, Rodrigo went to the guest room next door and knocked, figuring they and Raquel could have breakfast together. A couple of thumps later, she opened up. Her eyes were red from crying, and she had a busted lip. He gently grabbed her chin in his thumb and index finger, turning her face from side to side. There didn¡¯t seem to be any other bruises. Not visible ones, anyway.

    ¡°Where is she?¡± Rodrigo demanded, doing a poor job of concealing his anger. His mother had done worse to him frequently, but she never laid a finger on Raquel or Carlito. And to risk doing it under his aunt¡¯s roof. He wanted to stay calm, but he could already feel his heart pulsing through his entire body.

    ¡°She¡¯s in the kitchen, but she isn¡¯t herself,¡± Raquel said, her voice quavering. Great. Not even noon and his mother had been drinking. ¡°I-I told her a little about what happened yesterday. Not about you, but about that t-thing, and she just lost it.¡±

    Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Carlito shambled out into the hallway, and within seconds of seeing the dark intensity on his brother¡¯s face, judged the situation appropriately. He pulled Raquel into Jett¡¯s room, closing the door. Rodrigo could hear the television turn on, then steadily increase in volume until he could clearly make out SpongeBob chanting, ¡°I¡¯m ready!¡±

    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t. He paused, shutting his eyes and counting down from ten. If he approached her as he was, he wasn¡¯t sure what he might do. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the kitchen. ¡°What did Raquel do to deserve that?¡±

    His mother spun, and with her glassy eyes, it was obvious right away she was wasted. ¡°When did it become your b-business how I discipline my kids?¡±

    ¡°You beat on me and that¡¯s one thing, but Raquel and Carlito have always been off limits. So, what happened? Miss having easy access to your favorite punching bag the past few nights?¡± He wasn¡¯t yelling, yet he couldn¡¯t help his aggressive tone. ¡°Emelina¡¯s not gonna let you get away with this.¡±

    ¡°Shut your damn mouth! You¡¯re just full of lip lately. Think a few whacks here and there is a beating? Adorable. And that selfish cunt won¡¯t do a thing. She puts up a saintly front, but when you actually need her...¡± Her slurred speech trailing off, Miriam squinted at the top of his head, as if trying to bring a blurry image into focus. ¡°Now you¡¯re doing whatever you want with that hair of yours. Reminding me more and more of your goddamned father every day.¡±

    Rodrigo clenched his fists. ¡°That¡¯s another thing. I heard you¡¯ve been taking the cash he¡¯s been sending me for nearly three years now. Where is it?¡±

    ¡°Ed-Edward¡¯s money is mine. Count your blessings I give you lunch money, you greedy little bottom feeder!¡± He was stunned she didn¡¯t deny it.

    ¡°I finally understand why Dad left. It had nothing to do with us. It¡¯s you. It¡¯s always been you!¡± Rodrigo flinched at the unexpected hurt in his mother¡¯s eyes. He knew he had overstepped, but he refused to apologize.

    ¡°You know what, I¡¯m done,¡± Miriam muttered as she grabbed a chef¡¯s knife from the dish rack. ¡°If that monster doesn¡¯t want to raise his bastard...¡±

    ¡°What are yo¡ª¡± Rodrigo yelped as she stabbed him in his left arm. He lurched back, clutching his bleeding wound. The pain was nothing compared to what he had endured from the creature, but the contempt on his mother¡¯s face stung deep. He had always known she disliked him, maybe even despised him, but drunk or not, he had no idea she would go this far.

    ¡°So, you want me dead, huh?¡± Rodrigo asked, not meeting her gaze.

    ¡°You were a mistake. One that should have died in the womb.¡±

    Rodrigo took a shuddering breath. That his mother felt this way about him brought on a mix of depression and exasperation. What had he done for her to hate him so deeply? Or was it something Edward had done? Not for the first time, he wondered if he was the product of an affair. He almost asked her, but part of him was too scared at the possibility there was no rational reason behind it.

    ¡°What did you do with the money?¡±

    Miriam had the briefest look of remorse, but then snorted with laughter. ¡°What do you think? I spent it trying to make more. Most of that money¡¯s long gone.¡±

    Thousands of dollars a month on drinking alone seemed far-fetched, but bring gambling into the mix and it added up. Rodrigo glared at her, mirroring her hatred. ¡°I¡¯m taking Raquel and Carlito, and we¡¯re getting the hell away from you.¡±

    ¡°Oh no, you won¡¯t!¡± She raised the knife dripping with his blood and rushed at him.

    For the first time in his life, hitting back seemed reasonable. Justified even. But he was still hesitating when Resent took control.

    ¡°Enough,¡± Resent growled as he caught her wrist in his hand and crushed it. The knife clattered to the floor as she screamed. Rodrigo prayed Raquel and Carlito wouldn¡¯t come downstairs right now. The demon flung her to the kitchen floor. He looked down at her with his cold purple eyes like she was a cockroach.

    ¡°Finally,¡± Miriam said, struggling to her feet. ¡°About time you showed your true colors!¡±

    Resent sighed as Miriam snatched a frying pan off the stove and tried to bludgeon him over the head with it. He sidestepped and backhanded her, knocking her into the sliding glass door. The sound of it shattering was like a gunshot as she plunged through it and fell to the grass in the backyard. With her eyes shut and her face covered in small bloody cuts, for a horrifying moment, Rodrigo thought she was dead. Resent went over to her and pressed his fingers to her neck. ¡°The wounds are superficial. She¡¯ll live.¡±

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    With that, Resent returned control. Even knowing how much she loathed him, Rodrigo couldn¡¯t help feeling relieved. And yet, despite having proven he could yesterday, he¡¯d done nothing to prevent the demon from retaliating against her. He hadn¡¯t uttered a single objection. ¡°Um...thanks.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it. I simply couldn¡¯t bear another second of that hag¡¯s drivel.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m, uh, sorry abo¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t go regretting your actions from yesterday now. If anything, they made me gain a smidgen of respect for you. What you should be concerned about is your current predicament.¡±

    Rodrigo massaged his temples as he tried to consider all the angles. If he told Emelina that Miriam had attacked him first and with the bloodstained knife corroborating his story, she¡¯d naturally want to see the stab wound, already knitted closed. She might give him the benefit of the doubt and kick her sister out, letting them stay here. But devout Catholic that she was, what if she discovered Resent, an increasingly open secret? Rodrigo couldn¡¯t handle being shunned by the only adult in his life worth a damn. And if she called the cops, social services could split Miriam¡¯s children up. That would happen over his dead body. They needed to leave.

    Even knowing his aunt and cousin could burst through the front door any second, Rodrigo rinsed the knife in the sink for a full minute to make sure it was spotless. Then he furiously scrubbed at the stain on his sleeve with a soap-covered sponge. Finally, he returned the frying pan, now with a loosened handle, to the stovetop.

    With the kitchen less resembling a crime scene, Rodrigo went out into the backyard. Surrounded by a tall, tightly-spaced wooden fence and with the windows in Jett¡¯s room facing the street, he should be out of anyone¡¯s sight. He slipped one of his mother¡¯s shoes off and snapped the heel, placing it near what was left of the sliding door. He hoped to make it seem like Miriam had drunkenly fallen through.

    Seeing her laying there looking battered, yet strangely peaceful, his guilt began to eat away at his resolve. What the hell was he doing? She may have just tried to murder him, but she was still his mother. He couldn¡¯t leave her out here in the cold, hoping Emelina returned soon enough to help her.

    Rodrigo slid his phone out of his pocket, intending to call an ambulance, when an authoritative voice behind him said, ¡°Freeze.¡±

    His heart leapt into his throat as he dropped the phone. He raised his hands in surrender before the slightest motion could be misinterpreted as resistance and he ended up shot in the back. He hadn¡¯t heard sirens, but between their yelling and the explosion of glass, it made sense a neighbor had called the police. Without so much as a paper cut on him, no one would believe he wasn¡¯t the aggressor. It was over. He was going to rot in juvie while his ticking time bomb of a mother recovered, and vented her ill will on Raquel, and eventually Carlito.

    No. Resent wouldn¡¯t allow himself to be detained. Neither would he.

    Half-feral, Rodrigo slowly glanced over his shoulder, then nearly collapsed with relief as the tension left his limbs.

    Adena was leaning against the fence, wearing a black leather jacket with a heather gray fur collar and cuffs, cargo pants, and combat boots. The dark colors she dressed in contrasted starkly with her white hair and porcelain skin. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be so happy to see me.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were five-o. You scared the crap out of me.¡± Now that the panic of being caught was dying down, Rodrigo reminded himself he was dealing with someone infinitely more dangerous than a cop. ¡°Why are you here, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Relax, I¡¯m not here to cause trouble. On the contrary, I figured since the days are counting down, I should fill you in on some things.¡± She was pacing the backyard, her eyes downcast and shifting from thing to thing, even glancing into the kitchen. With her boot tip, she adjusted the angle of the shoe to better line up with his mother¡¯s unconscious body. ¡°Of course, I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be so preoccupied.¡±

    ¡°How much did you hear?¡± Rodrigo asked, his face heating at the thought of her standing in a corner, invisible with her mask on, since the argument began.

    ¡°You understand this little fiction you created doesn¡¯t hold up under scrutiny, right?¡± Adena asked, countering his question with her own. ¡°Your mother has a broken wrist and a bruised cheek. There are drops of your blood on the linoleum. And the spray of the tempered glass shows she struck it with more velocity than tripping over her own feet would¡¯ve generated. Even a particularly incompetent detective would see the signs of a struggle.¡±

    ¡°It was self-defense,¡± Rodrigo protested childishly, alarmed by how many small details he¡¯d missed. He didn¡¯t bother mentioning Resent, imagining how well ¡®the demon did it¡¯ defense would play in court. ¡°You think I planned any of this? I¡¯m winging it here. She¡ª¡±

    Adena held a gloved hand up. ¡°Stop. I don¡¯t care and you¡¯re wasting time. We can¡¯t afford for you to spend the days leading up to the invasion in jail because of a crisis of conscience. If she regains her senses while we¡¯re still standing here, I¡¯m going to have to kill her. I assume you don¡¯t want that, or you¡¯d have done it yourself. So, come with me.¡±

    ¡°Where to?¡± Rodrigo asked, trying to keep the chill out of his voice from how offhandedly she proposed homicide. It wasn¡¯t paranoia if each encounter only made you more suspicious of the person.

    ¡°For a drive to start. We¡¯ll talk more in the car.¡± Adena paused. ¡°If you bring your brother and sister along, she¡¯s more likely to pursue you, you know?¡±

    If he left alone, Miriam would probably see it as a blessing to finally be rid of the family¡¯s black sheep. But Raquel and Carlito¡¯s safety was the biggest reason he never seriously considered running away. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m leaving them here.¡±

    Adena rolled her eyes. ¡°You do enjoy making things difficult for yourself. Fine. Tell them I¡¯m taking you all shopping to make amends for the house. Don¡¯t let them see any of this and make sure they leave their phones. Hurry it up.¡± She jumped and effortlessly pulled herself over the fence with a strength that belied her willowy frame.

    ¡°Do you trust her around them?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°Trust isn¡¯t the word I¡¯d use, but she has answers we need.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. So be it.¡±

    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure he had heard correctly. Was Resent actually willing to accept a decision he made without complaints? He headed back to the kitchen and went over to the fridge, pulling out an ice tray. Popping out four cubes, he wrapped them in a dishcloth and went upstairs to Jett¡¯s room. He handed Raquel the ice pack to reduce the swelling of her lip and turned off the near-deafening television, which neither of them were watching.

    ¡°That sounded real bad, bro. I¡¯m used to her screaming at you, but you were yelling back this time,¡± Carlito said. He hoped the TV prevented them from hearing the conversation in detail.

    ¡°I know. She¡¯s sick again, so she went to sleep.¡± Rodrigo knew he¡¯d have to come clean soon, but he wasn¡¯t prepared to ruin their image of the only parent they had left. They all needed fresh clothing and only he overheard Emelina¡¯s plans, so the shopping trip made a believable excuse for them to leave the house together. ¡°While she gets some rest, we¡¯re going shopping.¡±

    ¡°I need some new clothes, like, right away,¡± Raquel said. ¡°But with what money?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s on Adena¡¯s dime. Her way of trying to say sorry, I guess. Oh, and we¡¯re going phone free today so we¡¯re not distracted. I¡¯ll bring mine only for emergencies.¡±

    The words felt ridiculous tumbling out of his mouth, and his siblings exchanged a knowing look. If his shouting match with Miriam wasn¡¯t telling enough, that piss-poor excuse confirmed something had gone wrong, even if they couldn¡¯t deduce the extent of it. Still, they took their phones out and left them on the dresser. He was halfway out the door when he turned back, remembering the drawstring bag under the bed. With all the drama he¡¯d already brought to Jett¡¯s doorstep, no reason he should have to dispose of Rodrigo¡¯s bloody clothes as well.

    As Rodrigo led them downstairs to the front door, he reconsidered upending their lives for the second time in under a week. But the fact was, staying here would be dangerous for everyone involved. Especially for his mother, if she ever hurt Raquel or Carlito again.

 Chapter 13 â€“ Runaways

    Outside, Adena was waiting by a black Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows. The SUV¡¯s exterior was spotless, as if fresh off the assembly line. She looked old enough to drive, but with all the city¡¯s public transit options, hardly any teenagers he knew even owned a vehicle, let alone one this high-end.

    Rodrigo¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°This yours?¡±

    Adena nodded. ¡°It¡¯s not my best, but I¡¯d be lying if I said it wasn¡¯t one of my favorites.¡±

    Raquel was staring at her with knitted brows. ¡°Are you actually taking us shopping or is this a kidnapping? That why you told our brother to make us leave our phones?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a mall not too far from where I live,¡± Adena said airily, ignoring the accusation. She took out a small remote and pressed a button twice, simultaneously unlocking all the car¡¯s doors, then got in.

    Reluctantly, Rodrigo opened the door and slid in next to her up front, separating himself from Raquel and Carlito in the back. Maybe because, for the first time, he didn¡¯t have the luxury of keeping his distance, he couldn¡¯t help admiring Adena¡¯s high cheekbones and pointed chin. She wore a small amount of dark makeup, like purple smokey eyeshadow, that added to her air of intimidation, while also emphasizing how striking she was. Seeing her at night, right after nearly being killed by the creature, he hadn¡¯t noticed.

    ¡°Listen, you two,¡± Adena said as she began driving. ¡°Your brother and I need to chat. There¡¯s a foldout television back there, so turn it to any channel you want.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a TV back there?¡± Rodrigo asked, spinning in his seat to look.

    ¡°Stay focused,¡± Adena chided as she brought up a limo-style partition, cutting Raquel and Carlito off from them. ¡°It¡¯s soundproof. They won¡¯t hear a thing.¡±

    ¡°Where do you get the money for this stuff?¡±

    ¡°Never mind that.¡± She jerked her chin at the half-open drawstring bag on his lap. ¡°You¡¯re going to want to be less lax when carrying around clothes bloody enough to be mistaken for a killer. Leave it here. I¡¯ll burn them later. Anyway, let¡¯s work on making you less ignorant. What¡¯s on your mind?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got loads of questions, but I bet you can guess the one that¡¯s really eating at me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still sore about the house?¡±

    Rodrigo glared at her. ¡°Considering I lived there all my life and then, out of nowhere, you just nuke it. Yeah, that¡¯s gonna take some time to let go of. But I want...no, I need to know you didn¡¯t do it for giggles. Maybe I¡¯ve got you all wrong and you¡¯re just some well-to-do ice queen who doesn¡¯t get how much something like that means to a normal person, but I¡¯m thinking there¡¯s more to the story than ¡®collateral damage.¡¯¡±

    ¡°So predictable.¡± Adena blew out a breath. ¡°I wanted to keep this hidden for as long as possible to avoid panic, but with the reckless way you behave, a dose of fear would benefit you. From what my contact told me, Heinrik, the demon who brought Resent to the human world, was tailed under Misery¡¯s orders. Despite his roundabout methods, his pursuers still realized he had singled you out to become the prince¡¯s vessel, and they decided to observe you. In other words, Misery knows you, he knows your family, and most importantly, he knew where to find you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Why me?¡± It was only the second time Rodrigo was voicing the concern that plagued him since meeting Resent.

    ¡°Most demons that choose to possess humans long-term are seeking a young host with a long life expectancy, but old enough that they can use the body to fight back if necessary.¡±

    ¡°I guess that makes sense,¡± Rodrigo said, though it still didn¡¯t answer why the potential candidates had been whittled down to him. ¡°But if Misery knew about me before Heinrik reached out, why not have me killed before we met up?¡±

    ¡°Oh, he tried. Do you remember seeing me in the subway before Resent was even in the picture? You noticed me killing the homeless man, but didn¡¯t realize he had been following you since you cut school. He was possessed, an energumen. And unlike your unique situation, possession is typically total, the host completely in thrall to the demon. He would have slit your throat the second I took my eyes off him. So, I dealt with him like I dealt with other demons before and after.¡±

    As Rodrigo flashed back to his first encounter with Flint and thought beyond his fear at the time, he was astonished. He¡¯d seen that man, seemingly in a drunken stupor, and disregarded him until his murder. This girl, who only yesterday he believed was his worst enemy, had actually saved his life a bunch of times prior to them even meeting. But he knew better than to think she went to so much trouble without an ulterior motive.

    ¡°While I¡¯m grateful you¡¯ve been watching my back before I could do it myself, you didn¡¯t play guardian angel for no reason. Yesterday, you said you were testing Resent to see if you could use his help to survive the invasion. But I feel like you could do that much alone.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think I could have done it out of the kindness of my heart?¡± Adena asked.

    Rodrigo raised an eyebrow, but her expression remained deadpan.

    Adena lapsed into silence while she drove across the Brooklyn Bridge. Sitting upright in his seat to look through the passenger window, past the bridge¡¯s steel beams and cables, Rodrigo glimpsed part of the East River drifting by below them, sunlight gleaming off its greenish waves.

    By the time they entered Manhattan and its congested traffic, he was convinced Adena had tired of sharing, when she continued, ¡°I¡¯m not exactly in the mood to re-visit the worst day of my life, so I¡¯ll get to the point. Misery¡¯s existence has caused me nothing but grief. Because of that, Resent and I share a common goal. We both want him exterminated.¡±

    Rodrigo shook his head in disbelief. His high threshold for madness had finally been crossed. ¡°You¡¯re not talking about taking down the schoolyard bully here. You want to dethrone someone who has ¡®legions of demons¡¯, your words, at his command. And you call me reckless?¡±

    Adena took a sidelong glance at him and scoffed. ¡°Did you think Resent was going to pal around with you until you grew old and died? If the prince ever wants to become king, Misery has to go.¡±

    ¡°Though her avoidance in explaining where it originates from is dubious, I can see in her eyes that her hatred for that wretch Misery is genuine,¡± Resent said. ¡°In my current state, I¡¯m not confident I can kill him alone, so I shall tolerate her. For now.¡±

    Adena pulled the vehicle to a stop in the cacophony of Midtown. Honking car horns, chattering voices in various languages, and aggressively colorful Christmas decorations assaulted his senses. Not that Rodrigo was going to complain about a free ride to someone who could immolate him with her bare hands, but if he knew she was bringing them to this tourist trap, he¡¯d have requested to stay in Brooklyn.

    ¡°Now that you have a better understanding of things, I¡¯d bring the kids up to speed, but I left it up to you,¡± Adena said. ¡°At least that way they won¡¯t be blindsided like the rest of the population.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we tell everyone?¡± Rodrigo asked. ¡°If the government and military knew what was coming, maybe we could stand a chance.¡±

    Adena stared at him for so long, he became uncomfortable and broke eye contact. ¡°Are you soft in the head? Even if they believed us, which they wouldn¡¯t unless we showed them what we¡¯re capable of, there¡¯s no way they could do anything significant before it started. Just accept it. The invasion is inevitable.¡±

    Raquel and Carlito, at least, were pleased with what they saw as they got out of the car. Surrounded by skyscrapers, the square mall building covered in windows was five stories tall and took up the entire block. Without waiting, they ran up a short flight of steps and through the automatic doors.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Rodrigo made to follow them, but Adena hadn¡¯t gotten out of the car. ¡°You coming?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve always preferred online shopping myself. Here.¡±

    As he took the Chase Sapphire Preferred card she held out to him between two fingers, several questions popped into his head, but he led with, ¡°Who the hell¡¯s Ryan Alexander?¡±

    ¡°Your alias for the foreseeable future. Consider it an extra layer of security against any demons trying to find you. There¡¯s enough on it to tide you over until New Year''s if you don¡¯t splurge like a high-roller. When you¡¯re done, go to the Bloodstone.¡± Rodrigo¡¯s furrowed brow must have sufficiently expressed his confusion, because she said, ¡°It¡¯s a hotel.¡±

    ¡°For who? Vampires?¡±

    Adena¡¯s lips twitched upward on one side, but the flicker of humor was snuffed out so fast he might have imagined it. ¡°The arrangements will be taken care of. I¡¯ll be in touch.¡±

    And then, just as abruptly as yesterday, she departed, her vehicle merging into the traffic.

    When Rodrigo entered the mall, he found Raquel and Carlito sitting on a wooden bench. He was glad they hadn¡¯t wandered off. Thanks to the last-minute Christmas shoppers, the mall was packed with people of all ages, and it made him feel claustrophobic. Distantly, he was aware of the absurdity of going shopping as a runaway with a demon prince in his head and a potentially catastrophic attack imminent. But he felt like a man drowning in a sea of the bizarre, desperately clinging to any piece of passing driftwood that resembled normality.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t she a bit tall for you?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°No, I guess that¡¯s not important. You, managing to get a girlfriend that¡¯s not only good-looking but wealthy, too, is mind-blowing. Even if she did torch our house, I guess beggars can¡¯t be choosers. Where is she, anyway?¡±

    Rodrigo couldn¡¯t help but toy with the idea of letting the misunderstanding be for a while. Maybe Raquel would start showing him a little respect. But if Adena got wind of it, her reaction probably wouldn¡¯t be pleasant. ¡°She has her own stuff to deal with, and we¡¯re not like that.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Then what were you two talking about when the window went up?¡± Raquel asked, springing to her feet.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later. We came here to shop, didn¡¯t we? First stop¡¯s Target.¡±

    Inside, it didn¡¯t take Rodrigo long to find an ATM to get a cash advance of a few hundred dollars from. He blinked and had to strangle a triumphant whoop as he saw he had a credit limit of $10,000. Regrouping with Raquel and Carlito, who ran off in opposite directions as soon as they entered the store, was the real time waster. He didn¡¯t argue with them about the various items spilling out of their arms, only insisting they picked out backpacks as well, then went over to the checkout area.

    About twenty minutes later, after a frustrated man squabbled with the cashier over his expired coupon, and an old woman took her sweet time finding her debit card, Rodrigo at last reached the register. With all the ¡°necessities¡± Carlito had thrown in like Yu-Gi-Oh cards and a Rubik¡¯s Cube, $249.25 was less than expected.

    During the next few hours, they went to an assortment of shops on the first four floors. When they were done, Raquel looked like a fashionista wearing a fur-trimmed pink pea coat with white buttons, white skinny jeans, and light brown boots. Carlito was in a lime green jacket, blue jeans, and dark green snow boots. Rodrigo was dressed in a gray wool coat, black pants, and a pair of biker boots Resent had chosen after making him sample a wide variety. Each of them had a couple of bags of things.

    ¡°I¡¯ve endured enough trivial ¡®shopping¡¯. I demand sustenance,¡± Resent said.

    Rodrigo agreed. ¡°All right, guys, let¡¯s go eat something upstairs.¡±

    ¡°What about all the other stores we passed?¡± Raquel asked, pouting.

    ¡°I think we¡¯ve bought enough for one day.¡± He had lost track of how much they spent, but knew it was closing in on $1,000.

    ¡°Fine. I am pretty hungry since we skipped lunch.¡±

    It was nearly 8:00, so the crowds were thinning as stores shuttered for the night. Rodrigo had considered taking them to a fancy restaurant for the first time since Edward left. But at the food court up on the fifth floor, everyone could eat whatever they wanted.

    ¡°What should we get, bro?¡± Carlito asked.

    It was then Rodrigo remembered he needed to invent an excuse for why they couldn¡¯t go home. ¡°Listen, guys, I¡¯m going to call Mom. Grab me a cheeseburger and fries from Nathan¡¯s.¡±

    After that, he walked away and pretended to be talking on his phone for a few minutes, in case either of them looked in his direction. He didn¡¯t even turn it on, dreading the text and voicemail messages from the rest of his family that had likely piled up in the hours since his escape. How long would he be able to get away with this before his face was on the news?

    ¡°What did Mom say?¡± Raquel asked as Rodrigo rejoined them on line.

    He sighed, doing his best to look dismayed. ¡°Sounds like the guest room¡¯s crawling with bedbugs. She said we should stay away for a couple of days.¡±

    Raquel gagged. ¡°Gross! Thanks for putting that image in my head before I eat.¡±

    ¡°Wow. So, we¡¯re not going back to Jett¡¯s at all tonight?¡± Carlito asked.

    ¡°Well, once I heard from Mom, I called Adena, and she set us up at a hotel until an exterminator can disinfect the room,¡± Rodrigo said.

    ¡°If she thinks she can just buy our forgiveness...she should keep it up,¡± Raquel said as she paid for her two hot dogs, and went off to find a table.

    ¡°Did you order already?¡± Rodrigo asked his brother.

    ¡°Yep. Mac and cheese,¡± Carlito said, watching him carefully. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just that you haven¡¯t stopped lying since your fight with Mom.¡±

    ¡°Lying? About what?¡± Rodrigo asked, unsure which particular lie he had been caught in.

    ¡°T¨ªa not cleaning enough to have bed bugs? No. There¡¯s no way that¡¯d happen. And even if I believed that, why wouldn¡¯t Mom meet us somewhere? Because, for some reason, you don¡¯t want us around her. Don¡¯t want us calling her or being tracked by her, either, so you made us leave our phones.¡±

    ¡°Why would I want that? The fight we had? She goes off on me all the time. It¡¯s nothing new.¡±

    Carlito¡¯s eyes took on an unusual intensity. ¡°Maybe, but the rip on the left sleeve of that shirt you threw out earlier was. Doesn¡¯t take Batman to put the pieces together.¡±

    ¡°How the...¡± Rodrigo stopped talking. His ten-year-old brother had already unraveled most of his story simply by observing him. If the conversation continued, he might figure out the rest. How he¡¯d let a demon and an arsonist convince him to leave their mother bleeding in the grass. He dramatically threw his hands up in defeat. ¡°All right, bro, you caught me. There¡¯s no bed bugs. I just think Mom needs a vacation from us for a bit. I mean, you¡¯ve seen how out of it she¡¯s been lately. Don¡¯t tell Raquel anything about this yet, okay?¡±

    Carlito studied him for a few more seconds before paying for his food and walking over to the small wooden table by the window Raquel was sitting at. Rodrigo paid quickly and joined them just in case Carlito blabbed.

    ¡°So, what hotel are we going to?¡± Raquel asked, stealing some fries from Rodrigo¡¯s plate to go with her hot dogs. Resent growled internally, and fearing what he might do, Rodrigo swatted her hand away as she reached for more.

    ¡°The Bloodstone,¡± Rodrigo said before picking up his burger and taking a bite.

    ¡°What...what is this?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a cheeseburger. Something wrong?¡±

    ¡°This is merely meat, bread, and cheese. There is no conceivable reason it should taste this good. At this rate, I might need to have my castle¡¯s chefs advised by humans.¡±

    When they finally made their way out of the mall, daylight had long since faded. Still, with people all over and busy stores as far as Rodrigo could see, the night was just starting for many. A few blocks from here, Times Square, with its neon lights and giant screens, would be a madhouse right now. He watched the ball drop on TV every New Year¡¯s Eve, and always questioned the mindset of the hundreds of thousands who waited hours in the cold to see it live. This year, his only concern would be whether the demons would descend at that exact moment.

    Rodrigo had been standing on a corner, flagging down cars the old-fashioned way for several minutes, when a black cab jerked to a halt.

    ¡°Thanks. Do you know how to get to the...uh, Bloodstone Hotel?¡± Rodrigo asked the salt-and-pepper-haired driver, feeling like he was requesting to be driven to a seedy nightclub they both knew wouldn¡¯t let him through the door.

    ¡°That¡¯s where I¡¯m headed, but sorry, didn¡¯t stop for you. Got a call.¡±

    A young woman in a flared orange coat and a slouchy, black beanie with her hands full of shopping bags passed Rodrigo by to get into the car. Seeing her through the window, her face, framed by chestnut brown curls that fell to her chest, was so familiar. But she was older than she was in his memory. When their eyes met, he remembered, backing away slowly, hoping she wouldn¡¯t recognize him. Then her eyes dipped to his scarf, the one she¡¯d given him, and widened.

    ¡°Hey, isn¡¯t that Hannah¡¯s sister?¡± Raquel asked, nudging Rodrigo. He hadn¡¯t seen her in over five years now, but no longer needed the reminder. As soon as he saw the amber eyes of the girl who had once been one of his best friends, it hit him. Along with the violent incident that had torn them apart.

 Chapter 14 â€“ The Bloodstone

    Leila smiled at Rodrigo and his siblings as she rolled down the car window. ¡°Hi, guys. Been a while. So that was you trying to steal my ride, Ruy. Why didn¡¯t you say anything?¡±

    ¡°I, uh...sorry.¡±

    ¡°Where are you headed?¡±

    ¡°Same place as you.¡± Then realizing how creepy that sounded without context, Rodrigo hastily clarified, ¡°The driver told me you were going to the Bloodstone, too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m visiting my bestie, who¡¯s back in town for the holidays.¡±

    ¡°We going somewhere here, lady?¡± the driver asked.

    ¡°Sorry. They¡¯re coming, too,¡± Leila said, pushing open the door and scooting over in the backseat. Raquel and Carlito got in the back with her, while Rodrigo put the bags in the trunk. Then, grateful for the space to get his thoughts together, he sat up front, and the driver took off.

    ¡°How¡¯s Hannah?¡± Raquel asked. For the first few years of elementary school, Leila¡¯s younger sister had been Raquel¡¯s closest friend, regularly coming over to the house, sometimes even to sleep over. It was through their friendship Rodrigo got to know Leila, who he¡¯d been in the same class as, but never had much cause to interact with. Jett and the other boys in Rodrigo¡¯s clique were going through their ¡°girls are icky¡± phase, and had no trouble expressing how weird they thought he was for hanging out with one.

    As Leila still hadn¡¯t answered, Raquel said, ¡°We haven¡¯t talked since graduation. I feel kinda bad about it, but I don¡¯t have her number or anything.¡±

    Finally, Leila said, ¡°She¡¯s okay.¡± It sounded like they weren¡¯t on the best of terms. Maybe Hannah had turned on her with age, like Raquel had on Rodrigo.

    During the fifteen-minute drive, Raquel and Carlito became reacquainted with Leila, while Rodrigo kept to himself. He wasn¡¯t sure what he expected from a place called the Bloodstone, but he was torn between a run-down motel whose sinister name had scared off numerous potential customers, and a Neo-Gothic structure easily mistaken for a church.

    Instead, the car pulled up in front of a comparatively normal near-skyscraper on 7<sup>th</sup> Avenue, a stone¡¯s throw away from Central Park. The dark green building was almost onyx in the night, accented by red-tinted windows. Softening its striking appearance, strands of multicolored Christmas lights hung elegantly from the hotel¡¯s awning and twinkling wreaths flanked the etched glass doors.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± the driver said.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Rodrigo said, handing the man a twenty-dollar bill before Leila could. After he got the bags out of the trunk, the car drove off.

    As they went inside and saw a large, mermaid-themed fountain in the center of the lobby, it dawned on Rodrigo that these were lodgings for the wealthy. The hotel was bustling, the clientele mainly young and middle-aged adults in formal wear, some having brought their kids along. Vibrant potted plants the size of small trees surrounded them. A grand, polished marble double staircase led farther up. In between where the stairs split, stood an illuminated Christmas tree that nearly reached the ceiling, decked out with shiny red and gold ornaments.

    Rodrigo was surprised Leila looked as amazed as they were. ¡°First time here?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s wild how the other half lives,¡± Leila said, wearing her envy on her sleeve.

    ¡°But aren¡¯t you chummy with the ¡®other half?¡¯¡± Raquel asked. ¡°I mean, unlike us, your friend¡¯s paying to stay here, right?¡±

    Leila tilted her head to the side, considering. ¡°Huh. Y¡¯know, you¡¯re right. Bianca¡¯s been starting weird fashion trends since we were in middle school, but it¡¯s only started making her money as an influencer recently. Now, she goes on all-expenses-paid trips around the world for photo shoots.¡±

    Raquel leaned closer, her dark eyes sparkling in the light from the crystal chandeliers overhead. ¡°Seriously? How do I get in on that?¡±

    ¡°All right, guys, say bye for now, and wait for me over there,¡± Rodrigo told Raquel and Carlito, pointing to the closest leather couch. When they were out of earshot, he said, ¡°Nice seeing you again, but I¡¯ve got to go sign in.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so it¡¯s like that?¡± Leila asked.

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°You were just being polite in front of the kids. You¡¯re still mad.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not mad. You just can¡¯t drop out of somebody¡¯s life and expect to pick up like nothing happened. It¡¯s not that easy.¡± Rodrigo hated how snippy he was coming off, but he couldn¡¯t help it. He hadn¡¯t seen Leila since shortly after he turned eleven, when she, and every other kid who wasn¡¯t his relative, had cut him off like a gangrenous limb. And now here she was, all grown up and gorgeous, acting like they were still friends.

    ¡°Uh-huh, you¡¯re not mad at all.¡± Leila snickered in that familiarly disarming way of hers, making his agitation seem silly. Remembering the reedy girl, her small face often lost in a mass of curls, and not the young woman in front of him, Rodrigo noticed their years apart had made him taller than her, if only slightly. ¡°I like the hair, by the way. The streaks are just dark enough not to look tacky. It suits you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Rodrigo said, though Resent probably got more satisfaction from the comment than he did. Still, he nearly returned the compliment by mentioning how well she filled out her silver sequin top, before coming to his senses and discarding the thought.

    Then Leila gave him a nervous look and asked, ¡°Did you ever see them after the...fight?¡±

    The mention of it was enough to re-sour Rodrigo¡¯s mood. From what he could remember, back when he was in fifth grade, two of his bigger classmates had been bullying Raquel, a second grader at the time, for her tomboy attitude. She had been crying at home for over a week, but because it was near the end of the school year, was apparently trying to tough it out. It was Hannah who filled Rodrigo in on what was going on. He had planned to hash it out with the boys. But when he saw them swagger into the lunchroom, within minutes, he went from playing UNO cards with his friends to being covered in chocolate milk and blood, handcuffed to a chair in the principal¡¯s office. The only reason Rodrigo comprehended he had been in a fight was because they had suspended him for the duration of the year over it.

    But he wasn¡¯t about to admit to Leila he had no memory of it. ¡°The school sent my diploma in the mail. Never saw them again. You?¡±

    She shook her head, her small gold hoop earrings swaying slightly. ¡°No. They didn¡¯t show up for graduation, either.¡±

    Rodrigo didn¡¯t like reflecting on the incident. Nine times out of ten, when someone won a fight in school, it only bolstered their cred. One of many similarities it shared with prison. But according to Jett and the few spectators still comfortable speaking with him after, what Rodrigo had been involved in was less of a fight, and more of a savage beatdown. A beatdown, his biggest regret about wasn¡¯t that it had happened, but that he couldn¡¯t recall inflicting it.

    ¡°Listen, I should go meet up with Bianca. I¡¯d give you my number so we could stay in touch, but you don¡¯t seem to want to.¡± Leila headed toward the elevators, stopping briefly to stare back at him as if she expected him to chase after her.

    When she was gone, Rodrigo approached the granite-topped front desk decorated with white tulips on either end. Behind it, a balding middle-aged man with a thin mustache was talking on the phone, growing more annoyed by the second.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°For the last time, ma¡¯am, what you were quoted was the reduced nightly rate, not the weekly rate. I¡¯m sorry about the confusion. Best of luck finding somewhere else to stay.¡± After hanging up the phone, the receptionist sighed deeply, then looked Rodrigo up and down. A smug smile crossed his face. ¡°Good evening. Can I help you?¡±

    ¡°Hey, I have a reservation, I think.¡±

    ¡°You think?¡±

    ¡°Well, my friend told me she¡¯d take care of¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sorry, but are you waiting for a parent? We don¡¯t allow unaccompanied minors here.¡±

    Rodrigo took a breath. He was already frustrated enough with how things had gone with Leila. He needed condescension right now like a hole in the head. ¡°No. Look, like I was saying, this girl Adena should have called.¡±

    The man¡¯s smirk flattened into a look of contained fear as he straightened his posture. ¡°Oh, good lord. Forgive my unprofessional conduct, sir. Miss Eckhart mentioned two children accompanying you.¡±

    Rodrigo pointed over his shoulder at them on the couch. ¡°Wait. Miss Eckhart? Is Adena on the board here or something?¡±

    ¡°You could say that. She¡¯s the hotelier. Her father, Lucas Eckhart, purchased it nearly two decades ago,¡± the receptionist explained, and Rodrigo was glad the man glanced down at his computer screen so he didn¡¯t see his mouth hanging open stupidly. ¡°Ryan Alexander staying until January 1st, correct?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Do you need me to sign something?¡±

    ¡°Unnecessary,¡± the receptionist said, handing him a key card. He rang a small silver bell, signaling the bellhop. The slim older man who answered the call was wearing a green-and-red uniform that matched the building¡¯s exterior. ¡°Jonathan, show our special guests to their suite.¡±

    Raquel and Carlito came over, and they all followed Jonathan as he carried their bags into the elevator. They stopped on the sixth floor and Jonathan led them to a mahogany door numbered 612. Holding it open for them, he said, ¡°Please, come in.¡±

    Rodrigo was ecstatic to see it was fancier than anything he had imagined. The furniture, cushy carpet, and impressive abstract paintings all along the ivory walls made the main room pop. The television was the biggest he¡¯d ever seen outside of a store and boasted 4K Ultra HD. There was a glossy Ferrari red grand piano in the corner which he didn¡¯t know how to play and had no intention of touching, but added to the room¡¯s sophisticated air. From what he could see of the bathroom, it was gigantic and mostly made of marble.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± Raquel said, walking off to explore.

    Jonathan placed Rodrigo¡¯s bags on the floor. ¡°There are several excellent restaurants downstairs. If you need anything, give room service a call at no expense. The number to contact them is on the night table in each bedroom. I hope you have a pleasant stay.¡±

    Rodrigo stretched out a ten as a tip.

    Jonathan gently shook his head. ¡°Thank you, sir, but your money is no good here.¡± He left the room, closing the door behind him.

    ¡°I am thoroughly enjoying the unease and respect we suddenly command,¡± Resent said. ¡°Are all Adena¡¯s slaves on loan to us?¡±

    ¡°Uh, no. I can imagine the slave trade is thriving in Hell, but fortunately, you¡¯re nearly two centuries too late in these parts. These people choose to work here and probably get paid well for it.¡±

    ¡°The beds are huge!¡± Raquel yelled from one of the bedrooms.

    Following her voice, Rodrigo found Raquel and Carlito with their shoes off, jumping on a king-size-bed and giggling like they were far younger than they were. Seeing them enjoy themselves so much, knowing nothing but trouble was on the horizon, a wistful smile tugged at his lips. He¡¯d let them savor the rest of today and leave breaking the cruel realities for tomorrow. After they had tuckered themselves out, he asked, ¡°So whose room is this going to be?¡±

    ¡°Dibs on the bed we didn¡¯t just jump all over,¡± Raquel said.

    ¡°Bro, come check out the fridge!¡± Carlito yelled, having already run off to another room. Rodrigo joined him in examining the minibar packed to the brim with non-alcoholic beverages and snacks.

    ¡°Enough procrastinating. It¡¯s time we trained.¡±

    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t about to argue. Resent had been amazingly patient today, and after facing his first real demon, he knew training was essential. ¡°Guys, I¡¯ve got some exercise to do. I¡¯ll be back in a couple of hours. Watch a movie or something. Just don¡¯t leave the room or open the door for anyone.¡± When they agreed, he left.

    He considered contacting Adena about a training spot, but she¡¯d already done more than enough for him for one day. If the roof was off limits to the public, it would be perfect. The hotel was the tallest building in the area, so no one in the surrounding buildings should see anything. Even if someone did, with his nebulae being pitch black, they¡¯d probably think he was doing Tai Chi. Rodrigo rode the elevator to the top floor and searched the corridor.

    ¡°How about that decrepit one, over there?¡± Resent asked.

    An elderly janitor was coming out of a doorway that had a staircase beyond it. The man locked the door with a normal key and ambled to the elevator. Rodrigo waited until the man was out of sight before walking over to the door. He glanced around the empty corridor for security cameras and when he found none, thought about forcing it open.

    Resent took control. He pressed the tip of his index finger to the keyhole, then turned it. When he pulled his finger away, Rodrigo glimpsed the bit of a key on it made from the nebulae before it dissipated. That they could be used as a skeleton key was something to keep in mind. He gave Rodrigo back control. ¡°Feeble-minded fool.¡±

    The roof was spacious, and it wasn¡¯t too windy out. Rodrigo didn¡¯t foresee any problems, so long as he kept an ear out for passing helicopters. He put his coat and scarf aside, then started off by working on how high he could propel himself upward.

    After about an hour, Rodrigo slammed the nebulae downward and rose into the sky higher than he ever had. At about twenty feet in the air, he dared throw in a flip. When he was five feet from hitting the ground, he broke his fall by using the nebulae like a parachute.

    ¡°Congratulations. You can finally jump higher than most demons can while on the verge of death.¡±

    ¡°Come on, give me some credit. That time was practically perfect.¡±

    ¡°And if you can execute it that way under duress, it¡¯ll be useful for evasion and maneuvering. You¡¯re still sorely lacking in offense.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m working on something,¡± Rodrigo said, creating a small sphere in his left hand with the nebulae. Maybe because he hadn¡¯t been fighting or training since yesterday, he formed it with a surprising amount of ease. Forming the spikes on it while it was in motion was the tricky part. And yet, the creature revealed a greater flaw in the technique. He needed to make more spikes emerge than an enemy had limbs to counter with, but he struggled to make two.

    After another hour passed with middling progress, Rodrigo sat down for a break. ¡°I should check on them.¡±

    ¡°They are in a locked room full of sustenance and have a picture box to entertain themselves. They¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°I know, but they might...¡± Rodrigo¡¯s thoughts froze and Resent went silent as well.

    Floating a few meters away on small leathery wings was a gray creature, maybe two-feet tall, with a pair of horns, pointed ears, and a barbed tail about the same length as it was. It had on what looked like a red toga that only covered the left side of its chest. The creature waited there, relaxed, fixing Rodrigo with a gaze from its entirely black eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s an imp. This might be an excellent opportunity to practice,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°But it¡¯s not attacking.¡± It was flying around in a circle. ¡°Hey, what are you doing?¡±

    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t expecting an answer, so he recoiled when the imp stopped circling and responded in a guttural foreign language.

    ¡°It says they are not here for you. It can sense my presence inside you.¡±

    ¡°It can sense you? How does that...wait, ¡®they?¡¯¡±

    That¡¯s when they started reaching the top of the building, one after another. They varied in height from nearly one foot to three. Eye color, skin tone, number of horns, and the clothing they wore all differed. Judging by their small breasts, a good portion of them were even female. Altogether, there had to be twenty of the imps, bickering in their demonic tongue.

    ¡°Inside, now!¡± Resent yelled. Rodrigo scooped up his clothes as he bolted for the door. The imps didn¡¯t pursue. He thrust his arms into the sleeves of his coat and hurried to the elevator, mashing the button again and again. It didn¡¯t work. When he heard a wave of screams from below, he decided to take the stairs.

    ¡°Dammit! Why are they here?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you understand yet? This is it. The invasion has begun.¡±

 Chapter 15 â€“ Ambush

    Rodrigo stopped running. ¡°What? How? We were supposed to have more time!¡±

    ¡°Misery is a cunning bastard,¡± Resent said. ¡°He must have spread a false date for the campaign, so if any of his enemies heard about it, they would be confounded like you are now.¡±

    The strength left his legs, and he collapsed in the middle of the hotel''s hallway, leaning against the wall for support. ¡°Then we¡¯re screwed, aren¡¯t we? I¡¯m nowhere near ready.¡±

    ¡°Get a hold of yourself! You have more of an advantage than everyone in this building and most of humanity. Succumb to cowardice, and those brats of yours will be ripped apart.¡± Resent paused, then enunciated each word, ¡°If. They¡¯re. Lucky.¡±

    Rodrigo fiercely slapped his own cheeks to push back the panic, then shoved off the wall and got to his feet. As he rushed down the steps, taking them two at a time, he saw others running as well, though thankfully not enough to clog the stairs. He picked up snippets of conversation as he blew past people.

    ¡°What the hell¡¯s going on?¡± a man asked, collected enough that he must not have seen the demons yet.

    ¡°Monsters! Monsters everywhere!¡± a woman screamed.

    It took Rodrigo two minutes to get down to the sixth floor¡¯s narrow hallway, where he heard frenzied shrieking. Having smashed their way in through the windows, the imps left so many shards of tinted glass in their wake that the sound of it cracking as people trampled over it was nearly as noisy as their cries. The imps were tearing into people¡¯s clothes and flesh with their small, sharp claws. He didn¡¯t want to ignore everyone under attack, but he had no choice. Raquel and Carlito were all that mattered.

    When Rodrigo arrived at room 612, his breathing ragged, someone had broken the door off its hinges and the room was in shambles. Two armored warriors were exiting the bedroom Raquel had chosen. They were dressed identically, in frayed black surcoats worn over dark chain mail, and steel helmets that showed only their eyes. Their surcoats were emblazoned with the gold insignia of the tri-horned demon that had been on Misery¡¯s cape in Resent¡¯s memories. One warrior held a spear, the other a sword. Both weapons were dripping blood onto the plush white carpet at their feet.

    ¡°Ah, another one,¡± the warrior with the spear said, his voice muffled by his helmet.

    Rodrigo¡¯s vision went red as he brought out the nebulae, formed the sphere in his left hand, and pitched it forward like a fastball. Four spikes thrust out of the sphere. Two impaled each demon through their metal pauldrons and into their shoulders, pinning them against the wall at their backs. The sphere hung in the air between them, pulsating ominously, smaller spikes rippling along its surface.

    ¡°What did you do?¡± Rodrigo muttered, plodding forward, his face contorted with fury. When neither demon offered an answer, he willed the spiked tendrils to twist in their wounds, dragging pained grunts from them both. He asked again louder, his voice cracking at the most plausible explanation, ¡°The kids that were in here! What did you do to them?¡±

    ¡°Bro?¡± Carlito asked, his voice small and frightened, coming from beyond the bathroom¡¯s closed door.

    ¡°We¡¯re okay,¡± Raquel said.

    Rodrigo felt the invisible hand crushing his heart loosen its grip. ¡°All right, stay hidden.¡±

    ¡°Behind you!¡± Resent shouted as a third demon Rodrigo couldn¡¯t see nearly rammed a spear through his back. He barely dodged it and tripped the warrior with a lash from the nebulae. As the demon hit the ground, Rodrigo picked up his spear, at least a foot taller than he was, and stepped back. He held the weapon with all the confidence of a draftee who¡¯d been rushed through boot camp and airdropped into a war zone.

    ¡°Do you even have an inkling of how to use that?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°No. You?¡±

    ¡°Behold!¡± Resent took over and mockingly twirled the spear in his hands.

    The irate warrior rose and yanked out a wickedly curved short sword. Resent backed up to put some distance between them before slashing the demon¡¯s sword hand, ripping open a red line in the leather gauntlet. As the blade clattered to the floor, he plunged the spear straight through the demon¡¯s mail coif and into the soft flesh of his throat. With Rodrigo¡¯s nebulae having dissipated, the two others had gotten free and were creeping up behind Resent. Like he had eyes on the back of his head, he ducked their slashes and spun, sweeping the spear in an arc and cutting the nearest warrior¡¯s feet from under him. He kicked the groaning demon¡¯s helmet off and stabbed him in the forehead, burying the entire spearhead into his skull, the shaft vibrating from the impact.

    Like most demons Rodrigo had encountered until the imps, this one appeared fairly human. The only obvious difference from a man¡¯s face were the irregular eyes, frozen wide with the terror of imminent death.

    ¡°Okay, so if you¡¯re such a hotshot with a spear, why don''t you use one more often?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°As a prince, learning to use every weapon of merit was a requirement. But even in my youth, I had always found hand-to-hand combat far more thrilling.¡± Resent smirked, crooking a finger at the remaining demon that was approaching cautiously with his blade pointed at him.

    The warrior backed away, his red eyes scanning the room for an escape route. ¡°You are...Prince Resent. King Misery must know of this.¡±

    ¡°Misery is no king.¡± Resent grabbed the warrior¡¯s legs with the nebulae and flung him into the ceiling. He wrapped his fist in the nebulae and smashed it into the falling warrior¡¯s helmet. The punch crumpled the metal, turning the enemy¡¯s head into a bloody pulp.

    A long moment after the fighting was done, Rodrigo asked, ¡°So, are you giving me back control, or what?¡±

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    ¡°Why bother? Your brats have foreknowledge of the situation. Demons are everywhere, and I am clearly your best chance at getting out of this alive. I¡¯ve permitted you to stay in control so often because your world¡¯s customs bore and vex me. Now, that you¡¯re effectively in mine, there¡¯s no longer any reason to conceal myself.¡±

    He was right, but Rodrigo doubted having a demon around for prolonged periods of time would reassure his family. And more than that, he didn¡¯t like Resent using his body if it wasn¡¯t necessary. But saying either of those things was sure to antagonize the demon. ¡°True, but remember what you said about me getting stronger? If I do, so do you. Look, if I mess up, then you can take over.¡±

    After a disturbing silence, Resent returned control. ¡°Fine. Go collect your albatross so we can vacate.¡±

    Rodrigo considered hiding the bodies, but they¡¯d be seeing more soon enough. ¡°Guys, it¡¯s safe. Come on out.¡± They ran out of the bathroom and into his arms. He hugged them both tightly, their tears wetting his coat.

    ¡°Is this a nightmare? W-what we saw in the hall...¡± Raquel mumbled.

    Carlito noticed the dead demons on the ground and covered his mouth in horror.

    Rodrigo grabbed his sister by the shoulders, trying to keep at least her attention fixed on him. ¡°Listen, both of you. I¡¯m sorry. I thought we¡¯d have more time to get ready. But just like Adena promised, the world¡¯s being attacked by demons. I get that this doesn¡¯t make much sense and that it sucks, but we can talk more later. For now, please just fill the backpacks up with food, water, and maybe a change of clothes or two. Then we¡¯re out of here.¡±

    Raquel nodded and ran toward the minibar, but she tripped over one of the bodies. She looked around herself without getting up, taking it all in for the first time. ¡°Did you...do this?¡±

    ¡°No, but I¡¯ll do what I have to, to protect you two,¡± Rodrigo said, lifting her to her feet. His voice was soft yet firm, trying to at least present the illusion of composure. Though his hands that trembled nearly as badly as hers told a different story.

    While Raquel and Carlito packed the bags, Rodrigo picked up the sword one demon had tried to murder him with. It was heavy for a weapon about thirty inches long. As a child, the heaviest fencing sabers he¡¯d used were 300 grams, or slightly over half a pound, and even the size 0 blade he¡¯d started with had been longer than this one¡¯s. Curving like a scimitar at the halfway point, the black blade had three spikes jutting out of the edged side, pointed downward. It had a silver cross-guard and the black hilt felt comfortable in his left hand. The silver pommel, similar to a crescent moon, made it a work of art.

    Having more than twice the reach, the spear might be the wiser choice. But it would be cumbersome indoors, and though a background in modern fencing wasn¡¯t ideal for actual combat, it was better than learning a new weapon from scratch.

    ¡°You realize a human entering a sword fight with a demon is tantamount to suicide, correct?¡± Resent asked. ¡°In your case, not only is there the speed and strength gap, but an absence of skill as well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll only use it as a last resort,¡± Rodrigo lied as he spotted the ornately decorated metal scabbard on the waist of the sword owner¡¯s corpse. He wrenched it free, then strapped the scabbard onto the right side of his own belt. He was momentarily stumped by how the spikes would fit into the rigid scabbard, but as he was sheathing the sword, they retracted on their own.

    In the next instant, there was a bang from downstairs and the whole building shook, like it might topple over any second.

    ¡°All right, enough packing, guys,¡± Rodrigo said, struggling to keep his tone even, while considering the new and exciting possibility of being crushed to death by the ceiling caving in on them. ¡°We have to move. Fast. Don¡¯t stop unless a demon¡¯s directly in the way and then...I¡¯ll handle it. Got it?¡± They nodded, and he took off jogging, keeping pace with them.

    But as soon as they entered the hallway, they all froze. Gore stained the once bright walls. With all the blood spreading across the floor and the savaged bodies scattered everywhere, the area was reminiscent of the house on Swan Street. It was the sight of the smallest bodies, bodies of children younger than even Carlito, staring up at Rodrigo with their lifeless eyes, that made his mind want to shut down.

    Raquel fell down, crying more intensely than before, and Carlito vomited up his macaroni from hours earlier. Rodrigo wished he could make them feel better, but anything he could say would be hollow. There were no soothing words for a massacre. He told himself they needed a moment to calm down, as if he wasn¡¯t suppressing the urge to react the same way.

    ¡°Those imps did all this, in the few minutes we were in that room?¡± Rodrigo asked, guilt gnawing at him for how he had left these poor people to their fate. Amid the fight, he had been dimly aware of the screaming intensifying in the background before dying down, but he had been too preoccupied to speculate on why.

    ¡°While imps are fully capable of causing carnage, many prefer to embarrass and harass when their lives aren¡¯t at stake. This was probably the work of diavoliks.¡±

    ¡°Dia-what?¡±

    ¡°Die-ah-vo-lik. The race of demons I and those we just faced are a part of.¡±

    Rodrigo wanted to know more, but this wasn¡¯t the time. Seeing Raquel and Carlito had pulled themselves together somewhat, he asked softly, ¡°You guys ready?¡±

    They both nodded, trembling and teary-eyed. Rodrigo didn¡¯t bother trying for the elevator again as he continued forward. Operational or not, getting stuck in a metal box during this mess would be the icing on the crap cake. He raced down the staircase, passing by a few more victims, but no one living and strangely, no demons, either. Desperate cries increased in volume the farther they descended.

    Upon reaching the lobby, they were met with chaos. The once luxurious hotel had become a slaughterhouse. The beautiful fountain and its bronze mermaid statues, smashed to pieces, its red-tinged water soaking the floor. Explaining their malfunction, every elevator had been crushed inward, with blood pooling at the bottom of some. The shining glass entrance and Christmas decorations shattered. And, of course, more mutilated corpses.

    Dozens of survivors, most wounded in some way, were milling about, almost aimlessly. A number of baffled faces expressed a refusal to acknowledge the grim reality of their situation. Parents were clutching their screeching, shivering children to their chests. Others sat quietly on the ground, appearing to have given up all hope, though a few had their hands folded in prayer. There weren¡¯t many demons there, but it was apparent at once why everyone was so miserable.

    Blocking the wrecked entrance, stood a barrel-chested, freakishly muscular giant. Its skin was a dark red, like lava cooling after a volcanic eruption. It was wearing only a black loincloth and spiked shoulder pads smeared with gore, as if it had recently impaled someone on them. In its right hand, it held a hammer with a head huge enough to flatten a person into paste. It wasn¡¯t attacking, just standing there, muscles tensed, so no one could escape.

    ¡°W-what the hell is that?¡± Rodrigo asked, not moving a step since he saw it.

    ¡°An ogre. What they lack in intelligence, they make up for with brute strength and durability. We should seek another exit.¡±

    As if Rodrigo wasn¡¯t scared enough, now Resent wanted to avoid a fight. He studied the group of people, searching for an employee of the hotel. The building had to have emergency exits, which shock was preventing the staff from leading everyone to. Then he saw Leila, slumped against the wall, completely still.

 Chapter 16 â€“ Chains of Malice

    ¡°Go back up the stairs and wait for me,¡± Rodrigo said. Raquel and Carlito did as they were told. He didn¡¯t want to separate from them, but if Leila was dead, they didn¡¯t need to see it. Besides, the farther they were from that giant, the better. He hurried over to her. The demons around mostly ignored him. ¡°Leila?¡±

    She looked up at him slowly, her unblinking eyes puffy. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you.¡±

    Rodrigo exhaled deeply. He had forgotten how to breathe until she spoke. ¡°Are you okay? What happened? Other than all this, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Bianca...my best friend. She was killed a few minutes ago.¡± Leila dropped her face into her hands as sobs wracked her body. Then in a hoarse voice, she muttered, ¡°She was going to make it. I needed her to make it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Rodrigo paused, not sure what else to say. He had been lucky enough to never have lost anyone he cared about. Not to death, anyway. ¡°I know this is all insane, but can you really let yourself die here?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Leila asked, glancing up at him again.

    ¡°Hannah. Are you just going to leave her alone?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, she¡ª¡±

    Rodrigo grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to her feet, drawing his sword as an imp approached. Due to the sword¡¯s weight, his slash was slower than he expected and the laughing demon effortlessly dodged it, causing the blade to strike the wall. Between his rusty technique and the thickness of the wall, a top-tier man-made sword might have snapped in half. Rodrigo¡¯s demonic blade cut into it like butter.

    The imp raised both middle fingers at him with a sneer before flying off.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Rodrigo said, releasing Leila¡¯s hand and hurrying up the staircase.

    ¡°Did we not have enough dead weight? I can grudgingly accept the brats, since they¡¯re your kin, but this girl is irrelevant,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°So what? Just leave her here to die, even though I¡¯m all she¡¯s got right now? I won¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°Leila!¡± Carlito yelled, sprinting over to hug her. Having been so young when she was in their lives, he barely knew her, but someone he was familiar with surviving this crisis was enough to bring him some small solace. She hugged him back gently, saying nothing.

    Rodrigo was trying to determine whether using the nebulae to parachute out one of the second-floor windows with three people clinging to him was feasible, when Raquel¡¯s legs abruptly gave out. For a split-second, he feared something had hit her, but then he followed her disbelieving gaze to the brutality taking place below.

    The demons were seizing anyone too sluggish or stunned to move out of their way. Most of those slain were mercilessly torn apart while their killers laughed. It wasn¡¯t all the blood or the screams of the innocent that truly sickened him, but that the demons could kill them all so easily if they chose to. Instead, they trapped the humans between themselves and the overwhelming mass of the unmoving ogre. Taking their time to relish every second of tormenting something weaker than themselves, simply because they could. The depravity of it all made rage rise like bile in Rodrigo¡¯s throat, threatening to choke him.

    A blond boy, around Raquel¡¯s age, was trying to sneak past the ogre. He only came up to the demon¡¯s knee, and it appeared distracted by the mayhem, so the boy probably figured his chances were good. A sly kid, shrinking smaller the closer he got. It looked like he was going to make it, until the ogre¡¯s pitiless gray eyes locked onto the crouching boy. The demon smacked him with the hammer, catapulting his small body through the air and thudding into the wall.

    ¡°No!¡± Rodrigo shouted, propelling himself upward with the nebulae.

    ¡°Have you lost your damn mind?¡± Resent demanded.

    Soaring toward the ogre, Rodrigo stuck his left hand out in midair, forming the sphere from the nebulae. He launched it forward and two spikes exploded from it, piercing the unready giant through the eyes in a spurt of blood. It let out a ferocious roar as it lost its balance and fell backward into the bed of glass shards, causing the ground to tremor. The panicked screaming of the humans, the disgusting laughter of the demons, and Resent¡¯s protests, all ceased.

    Rodrigo somehow managed to land on his feet at ground level, nearly fracturing his ankles. He pointed toward the exit. ¡°Uh, clear out of here everybody.¡± Though he had intended to sound authoritative, his voice sounded young and afraid, even to his own ears.

    There was reluctance at first, but then someone spoke up. ¡°What are you all waiting for? The boy¡¯s given us a chance! It¡¯s now or never, people!¡± To Rodrigo¡¯s surprise, it was the once smug receptionist. As he ushered people past the downed ogre and out of the building, he gave Rodrigo an appreciative nod.

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    The demons didn¡¯t give chase, all twisted humor gone. Apparently, they were convinced taking their eyes off Rodrigo would be a fatal error. Having essentially sucker-punched the ogre, his show of strength was a total sham. But, since he had their undivided attention, he¡¯d take advantage of it. ¡°Leila, get them out of here!¡±

    She moved down the steps, holding Raquel and Carlito¡¯s hands, gaping at him in awe. Cautiously, she made her way past the fallen ogre and to the exit. With everyone out of harm¡¯s way, Rodrigo¡¯s focus turned toward the demons. There were ten imps and diavoliks in front of him. Even with Resent¡¯s help, he didn¡¯t like their odds against such a large group. And yet, turning his back now would lead to not only his death, but the deaths of everyone who just left.

    ¡°So, we doing this?¡± Rodrigo asked, swirling his nebulae around him for effect. There was a growing sense of unease among the demons. Miraculously, they started backing away. Then they retreated in a rush. He wasn¡¯t sure where they were headed, but it wasn¡¯t through the front. When they were out of sight, he sighed in relief. ¡°That went better than expected.¡±

    ¡°Fortunately, they were intelligent enough to recognize what the nebulae signify.¡±

    ¡°Oh? And here I thought I did it all on¡ª¡±

    An enormous hand clenched Rodrigo¡¯s leg, and he was scooped off the ground. The presumably dead ogre, that likely weighed at least a ton, had gotten onto its feet like a goddamn ninja. The demon raised Rodrigo, dangling him upside down in front of its face. It flashed a crooked smile at him as blood oozed from its ruined eye sockets, and for a terrifying second, he thought the ogre would rip his head off with its yellowed fangs. Then it released a deafening roar, spraying foul-smelling spittle onto Rodrigo¡¯s face before hurling him into the demolished fountain.

    Every bone Rodrigo possessed wailed in anguish, and he did with them. The sounds of them cracking throughout his body were like fireworks exploding in his eardrums. ¡°H-how...um...¡± he began, the blow rendering him unable to string together a coherent thought.

    ¡°How is it alive? As I said, they¡¯re quite durable. You did manage to blind it and ogres don¡¯t have particularly sharp senses, so maybe you can finish it off.¡±

    In his state, Rodrigo didn¡¯t feel like he could defeat an ant, let alone a giant. Although he could feel his bones painfully popping back into place, the dizziness was lingering. Forced to crawl along the ground as his body repaired itself, Rodrigo hoped the demon¡¯s remaining senses weren¡¯t acute enough to spot him. The frustrated ogre was swinging its hammer along the area where it had thrown him, crushing everything it connected with into dusty rubble.

    ¡°Any ideas?¡± Rodrigo asked, taking cover behind the overturned front desk.

    ¡°A plethora. However, if you can¡¯t defeat this lone demon on your own, you might as well not bother fighting at all.¡±

    ¡°Helpful as always.¡± Rodrigo struggled to his feet, wiped blood from his mouth, and tiptoed around the ogre. When he was behind it, he slammed the nebulae into the ground and drew his sword. He stabbed it through the nape of the ogre¡¯s beefy neck. ¡°Hey there,¡± Rodrigo said into one of its short, pointed ears, while latched onto the beast. The ogre turned its head and attempted to swat him with its hammer, but Rodrigo released his grip on the sword as soon as it swung. The demon brought the hammerhead down on itself, dropping its weapon and falling to its knees.

    Rodrigo stood up, breathing heavily as he visualized the nebulae. He wouldn¡¯t turn his back on the ogre again. Rodrigo stretched out both hands toward the demon and the nebulae extended, wrapping around its throat and waist like chains. The ogre started to rise, dragging Rodrigo forward with it. He pulled on the chains as hard as he could. There was no effect. Before he could be lifted off the ground, he made the nebulae dissipate.

    Resent laughed. ¡°What did you think you were going to do? Tear it apart with your puny physical strength?¡±

    As the ogre roared and charged at him, Rodrigo dove aside, causing it to run headfirst into the wall. The wall crumbled from the impact, but the demon was dazed. It aimed its hammer in Rodrigo¡¯s general direction, and he once again lengthened the nebulae in his hands. One wrapped around the ogre¡¯s raised wrist and the other around its throat. If pulling on the chains was pointless, then he¡¯d have to imagine the nebulae doing what he could not. They tightened as the ogre violently resisted, veins bulging under its skin from the strain. The demon roared in pain and anger while the nebulae continued to decrease in circumference, strangling its flesh.

    For a moment, Rodrigo considered stopping. He had proven to Resent, himself, and even the ogre that he could win. Wasn¡¯t that enough? But in that instant, he remembered the boy this demon had smacked away like a mosquito. And that was when the links of chains pressing against the ogre¡¯s skin sprouted countless fangs, like baby teeth erupting through the gum line, and took the enraged monster apart. The ogre¡¯s hand and head popped off its body in a shower of blood. Its remains collapsed, shaking the ground for the final time.

    Part of Rodrigo was disgusted with himself. Watching through his own eyes as Resent used his body to kill and doing it himself were two different things. Until now, the biggest thing he¡¯d ever killed was a mouse that had gotten stuck in a glue trap in his kitchen when he was twelve. Knowing his mother would either let it starve to death or drown it in a bucket, he¡¯d disposed of it himself. Even though it was a mercy killing, the way the rodent had tried to fend off the chef¡¯s knife in his hand with its teeth, desperate to survive, had left him guilt-ridden for days.

    But now, in killing something so much stronger than himself, something that had genuinely deserved it, most of him felt...proud. It took an entire minute for his adrenaline to die down enough for him to think about anything beyond the kill.

    ¡°And here I thought you would have some drawn-out moral dilemma about slaying it. I suppose you¡¯re fine with it because it was a demon,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°You¡¯re in my head. What do you think?¡± Rodrigo walked over to the ogre¡¯s headless corpse and yanked his sword out of its neck. He wiped the blood from the blade on the ogre¡¯s loincloth before returning it to the scabbard.

    On his way out, he noticed the red smudge high on the wall that trickled down in a thin streak, ending at the boy¡¯s broken body on the floor. The kid¡¯s eyes were still open and blood dripped down his face from his hairline. Had Rodrigo acted a few seconds sooner, this boy would be alive. He choked back tears, closing the boy¡¯s eyelids with his hand. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

 Chapter 17 â€“ Anarchy

    Outside the hotel, it was so dark now that it was as if the sky was mourning the tragedy occurring beneath it. If there were demons nearby, Rodrigo couldn¡¯t see them. He turned his phone on, the glow from the screen cutting through the blackness, and was about to search for the others when he heard whispering from the rosebushes to his side.

    ¡°Guys?¡± Rodrigo asked. Raquel, Carlito, and Leila came out, all looking relieved initially, and then terrified.

    Leila slapped a hand over her mouth. ¡°Oh my god, are you okay?¡±

    Rodrigo glanced down at himself and realized he was coated in blood. ¡°Most of it¡¯s not mine. I know you¡¯re probably freaking out about me and what I can do. I swear I¡¯ll explain, but first we need to get somewhere safe.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much about that,¡± Raquel said. ¡°We¡¯ve been filling her in.¡±

    ¡°Err...never mind, then. Do you believe it?¡± Rodrigo asked, looking toward Leila.

    ¡°With what I saw you do in there, I don¡¯t know how I couldn¡¯t,¡± Leila said with a smile that didn¡¯t reach her eyes.

    Rodrigo¡¯s phone vibrated. He took it out and looked at the caller I.D. It was private. ¡°Hello?¡±

    ¡°I assume you understand what¡¯s happening by now,¡± Adena said.

    ¡°Yeah, your source gave you some crappy info.¡±

    ¡°I see you just left the hotel.¡± Too much else was going on for him to make an issue out of how she knew that. ¡°I¡¯d pick you up and bring you to my place, but it¡¯s best to stay in motion. Listen carefully. Make your way north, about halfway through Central Park, exit to your right, then cut left a few blocks until you reach the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I¡¯ll meet you outside. I have a backup plan that I¡¯m sure is better than whatever you¡¯ve cobbled together.¡±

    Rodrigo thought back to his stroll through Prospect Park with Jett yesterday. They hadn¡¯t even gone from end to end, yet the curving pathways had made it time-consuming. Central Park was nearly twice the size and while normally, the scenic walk would be pleasant, in this darkness, with monstrosities lurking around every corner, they might as well be running blindfolded across a minefield. ¡°That park is huge. Can¡¯t we go around it?¡±

    ¡°You could try, but I wouldn¡¯t advise it. Resent¡¯s presence should offer you some protection, making the demons think you¡¯re one of them, but you¡¯re going to want to keep away from crowds and off the streets. Otherwise, you¡¯ll get lumped in with everyone else. Don¡¯t get yourselves killed,¡± Adena said before hanging up.

    ¡°Who was that?¡± Leila asked.

    ¡°Adena. She¡¯s a friend of mine and said we can go to her house. Downside is, to get there we have to head through the park and to the Metropolitan Museum.¡±

    ¡°Uh-uh. We need to go to auntie¡¯s and get back to Mom,¡± Raquel said.

    Rodrigo had a thousand things on his mind with all that was happening. Sad to say, his mother hadn¡¯t been one of them.

    ¡°Walking home from here tonight isn¡¯t really an option. Let¡¯s just call her and make sure everyone¡¯s okay,¡± Carlito said, snatching Rodrigo¡¯s phone out of his hand.

    ¡°Okay, as soon as he¡¯s done, we need to move.¡±

    The whites in Leila¡¯s doe eyes expanded with barely suppressed panic. ¡°Move somewhere, yeah, but I¡¯ve been to the Met for a school trip. It¡¯s got to be at least a mile away.¡±

    She had a point. If Rodrigo didn¡¯t have Adena guiding him, he¡¯d be going for immediate shelter, not traversing wide open death traps like Manhattan¡¯s largest park. Then again, without her, he would already have been dead several times over. ¡°No kidding. But Adena¡¯s...kind of a specialist on this stuff, so unless anyone has a better idea, I think this is our best shot.¡±

    Carlito¡¯s shoulders sagged as he lowered the phone. ¡°No answer.¡±

    Rodrigo was thinking of something comforting to say when he noticed a group of imps flying toward them. ¡°Go, go, go!¡±

    They ran full pelt, the fear of death pumping adrenaline through their legs, temporarily granting them the speed of Olympic Sprinters as they continued up 7<sup>th</sup> Avenue. Rodrigo stayed in the rear, staring over his shoulder. The imps were gaining on them. Rapidly.

    ¡°Keep moving, don¡¯t stop!¡± Rodrigo yelled, skidding to a halt and turning to face the demons. To his misfortune, there were even more imps than he had first seen. As usual, they were screeching at him and making a variety of offensive gestures.

    Just as Rodrigo was about to bring out the nebulae, a ray of light tore through the skull of an imp. It fell to the sidewalk, convulsing for a couple of seconds before lying still. The imps and Rodrigo looked around for the source of the attack, but saw nothing. Then another ray came and then another, each one ripping through an imp and leaving a fresh corpse on the concrete.

    When their numbers had halved, the imps finally flew off. Rodrigo waited for his savior to come out of hiding, but they didn¡¯t.

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    ¡°Thanks!¡± Rodrigo shouted, hoping he was heard, then ran off to catch up with the group.

    ¡°Do humans actually have weapons capable of such power?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°Never seen anything like that outside of sci-fi, but for all I know it could be new military tech.¡± At the corner of the block, he found Raquel, Carlito, and Leila crouching behind a car.

    Across the street, the trio of flags hanging over Carnegie Hall¡¯s entrance were on fire. People scurried in all directions as they burst from the illuminated building¡¯s glass doors, shoving and trampling each other to escape the demons. Their screams, blending together to make an indistinguishable racket, sent chills racing up Rodrigo¡¯s spine. A few, maybe the venue¡¯s security, had guns and were shooting, but if their bullets were doing anything more than annoying the demons, the creatures didn¡¯t show it. Vehicles had been abandoned throughout the street, making it even more difficult to wade through the madness. A swarm of news and police helicopters were circling overhead as the blaring of sirens resonated through the city. Watching as order collapsed, he wondered if things were the same everywhere in the world.

    As Raquel noticed Rodrigo behind them, she glared up at him. ¡°People are dying here. Aren¡¯t you going to do something?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be hard enough saving ourselves. Let¡¯s try another street. Going through here would be a nightmare.¡± Rodrigo averted his eyes from the ill-fated victims, knowing that if he watched for too long, he¡¯d be compelled to interfere again. What else could he do? Wrap his scarf around his face and charge in like some kind of wannabe superhero?

    Luckily, the street they ran to was less crowded. There were several small clusters of people running past them and only a couple of imps.

    ¡°Good thing there¡¯s not too many demons around here,¡± Raquel said.

    ¡°Yeah, but why?¡± Leila asked. ¡°There were tons of them right on the next block over. Now there¡¯s only a few here and there.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re after, but if their goal is killing as many of us as possible, it makes sense they¡¯d be drawn to crowds,¡± Carlito said glumly.

    ¡°Checking up on someone?¡± Leila asked.

    ¡°

    ¡°What about you? Don¡¯t you have to call Hannah? Or your parents?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°They don¡¯t live around here anymore,¡± Leila said.

    ¡°So what? You should still call them to make sure they¡¯re okay.¡±

    Rodrigo threw his hands up and walked backward slowly. Following his example, Raquel, Carlito, and Leila jolted to their feet as well.

    ¡°Are you serious? We were just taking a breather,¡± Leila said.

    As the security guard¡¯s eyes lingered on her face, then dipped to take in the rest of her, he licked his lips. ¡°Mmm. Awfully cold to be sitting out here, darling. Matter of fact, why don¡¯t you come on in and warm yourself up?¡±

    Leila pulled her coat closed, tucking her hands under her armpits. ¡°Yeah, no thanks. I rather freeze to death.¡±

    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure whether Leila was brave or disregarded the gun because she had faith in him to deal with it. He hoped it was a healthy mix of both.

    ¡°Now see, that was rhetorical. I was you, I¡¯d play nice, cuz the boy will be the one to pay for you getting mouthy too soon.¡± Still leering at her, the man barely looked at Rodrigo as he addressed him. ¡°You, take these kids and get the hell outta here. Leave me that spiffy sword you got, though.¡±

    ¡°Look, sir,¡± Rodrigo said, doing his best to mask his disgust. ¡°I¡¯ll give you the sword if it means we can all go without a problem, but leaving her with you? Not happening.¡±

    The man¡¯s invasive gaze flicked from Leila to Rodrigo, his eyes widening, as if noticing the blood on him for the first time. ¡°Ooh. Well, damn, son. Either you got one hell of a high pain tolerance, or you¡¯re a bad little hombre with that there blade.¡± He snorted, adjusted his mesh hat with one hand, and wagged his firearm around like it was a toy with the other. ¡°Good thing I got the gun, ain¡¯t it, boy?¡±

    After everything Rodrigo had faced, a man with a shotgun shouldn¡¯t have seemed earth-shattering. But as he stared down the barrel, Resent¡¯s regeneration didn¡¯t seem so reliable. Worse, the stench of alcohol radiating off the man meant his aim might be off and the shot would hit someone else instead. Even with everything that could go wrong, there was no way he was going to run off and leave Leila alone with this sicko.

    ¡°Hey, are you not seeing what¡¯s out here?¡± Carlito asked, gesturing toward the street. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be more worried about the monsters killing everyone?¡±

    The man swung the gun to point it at him and before Rodrigo could react, Resent took over. He was on the man faster than he could squeeze the trigger, shoving the gun barrel upward so the deafening shot punched through the top of the awning and into the sky. A vicious throat jab dropped the man to his knees and left him gagging. Then Resent kicked him in the side of the head with such force that there was a dull crack as his face rebounded off the concrete

    or the man¡¯s pulse.

 Chapter 18 - Hunted

    Raquel, who had been as still as a mannequin during their encounter with the security guard, gasped and backed away as blood trickled from his skull down the stone steps.

    ¡°I was handling it,¡± Rodrigo said.

    ¡°Yes, poorly. Honestly. Agreeing to hand over your blade to that lout as if he had you at a disadvantage. Pathetic.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Leila said as she walked over to the body. She snatched the shotgun from the ground and searched the pouches of the man¡¯s vest, pulling out extra ammunition. For once, Rodrigo was glad he wasn¡¯t in control because her response caught him completely off guard. It was as if the man¡¯s death hadn¡¯t fazed her at all.

    ¡°Maybe this one isn¡¯t such a waste of space after all,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to,¡± Carlito muttered.

    ¡°Sorry? I don¡¯t comprehend whimpering, brat. Speak up if you have anything worth saying.¡± The gruffness of Resent¡¯s voice made Leila flinch, seeming to just realize how dramatically Rodrigo had changed.

    ¡°I said you didn¡¯t have to do it,¡± Carlito repeated. ¡°Kill him like that. I could have talked him down. No one had to die.¡±

    Resent stared at him, as if genuinely contemplating his words, then burst into a fit of raucous laughter. When he settled down, he wiped away welled up tears. ¡°Oh, how I so look forward to seeing the naivete melt off you.¡±

    ¡°Are we switching back?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Considering you were nearly killed by a human, no, not anytime soon. I¡¯ll actually neutralize threats instead of kowtowing to them.¡±

    ¡°The demons are bad enough,¡± Raquel said. ¡°I can¡¯t believe there¡¯s guys screwed up enough to be perving out during all this.¡±

    ¡°Sweetie, the biggest creeps will only take this as an incentive to get creepier,¡± Leila said. She had tied her curls into a low ponytail and removed her earrings in what seemed an effort to avoid inviting any more unwanted attention. She was peering through the glass panes of the door and into the apartment building¡¯s lobby. ¡°Should we go inside? See if he kept anything useful behind the security desk, like more guns or ammo?¡±

    ¡°But...what if his family lives in there?¡± Carlito asked.

    ¡°What does it matter? If they¡¯re hostile, they can join their degenerate patriarch,¡± Resent said, prodding the man¡¯s corpse with his foot. He was reaching for the gilded door handle when something faint that resembled a howl became audible to them.

    ¡°W-what was that?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Never mind the spoils. Onward.¡± Resent hurried across the street with the others behind him. He vaulted over the chest-high slanted stone wall that wrapped around the park¡¯s perimeter, not breaking his stride while the others clambered over it.

    ¡°Sounds like wolves,¡± Rodrigo said.

    ¡°Hell¡¯s hounds are superior in every aspect to such lower life forms. As a pack, they can easily bring down ogres.¡±

    All of them were on edge as they kept to the park¡¯s paved roads, careful not to pass underneath any bridges where they would be totally blind. In their umpteenth stroke of bad luck, most of the cast iron lamp posts were off. The lights from the surrounding buildings shining through the spaces between the tree branches, many denuded by winter, provided little illumination.

    Hardly another person was in sight, which made sense. The park was near closing time. Attractions like the zoo or carousel had shut down hours earlier. Most joggers, tourists, and even the homeless had probably gone indoors when this all began, hunkering down for the night. The few people they did come across, saw a belligerent boy crusted in blood from head to toe and with hair spiky enough it could have been the weapon responsible, and found any other direction to go in.

    As Rodrigo watched Resent step foot onto the wooden walkway of the curving Bow Bridge, he found the sight of the lake glimmering beneath it in the moonlight vaguely threatening, as if demonic acid-spitting mermaids would pop out any second. They paused in front of a green sign posted by one of the few working lamps that informed them they were entering the Ramble, a famous bird-watching spot. A red marker on the map indicating their location showed they¡¯d been going the wrong way, having veered off to the left.

    A flashlight flicked on behind Resent as he continued forward, the wobbling beam of light cutting through the darkness ahead, and sending restless squirrels scampering away.

    ¡°Shut that off,¡± he hissed, without turning to see who was responsible.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know where you¡¯re going because none of us can see anything,¡± Raquel said.

    ¡°I can. And so can other demons. Off.¡±

    The same warped howling filled their ears, louder this time. It was high-pitched and warbling, the haunting noise echoing from every direction. Resent came to a halt.

    Raquel¡¯s face slammed into the back of his shoulder as she was putting her flashlight keychain away. She stumbled backward. ¡°Ow! What¡¯s wrong with you? Why¡¯d you stop?¡±

    ¡°All of you, conceal yourselves in the shrubbery. Keep a fair distance from one another. Do it now,¡± Resent ordered.

    Carlito and Leila did so right away. Raquel stuck around. ¡°Why? And where¡¯s my bro¡ª¡±

    Resent clamped Raquel¡¯s lips shut between his thumb and index finger. ¡°Listen here, you little ingrate. In case you failed to notice, your brother just proved inept at keeping you lot safe. One useless human would be burden enough. Three of you are an affliction. So if you fancy serving yourself up for the hounds to feast upon and lightening the load, be my guest. Otherwise, if you have any interest in staying alive, you will follow my every command.¡±

    Raquel glared at Resent, eyes burning with defiance, but then multiple howls tore through the air in rapid succession, and she ran off.

    ¡°You¡¯re not leaving my sister to them,¡± Rodrigo said with an edge to his voice.

    ¡°Yes, yes, of course not. Because what a terrible loss that would be.¡± Resent tightly wrapped his hands in the black and purple nebulae like he was wearing a second pair of gloves. As he approached one of the tallest oak trees in the vicinity, spikes formed on the knuckle of every finger except his thumbs. He punched into the trunk with his left hand. Then did the same with his right and pulled out his left. He climbed it with impressive speed, reaching a thick branch and squatting on his haunches, as he looked below.

    Minutes passed, and the howling died down. Rodrigo began to think Resent was overreacting. Then they crept into sight. He counted six of them, but there might have been more. Their pitch-black fur made them meld into the shadows. He could only spot them because their entirely silver eyes were glowing. They padded along the narrow winding path, sniffing their surroundings.

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    ¡°Won¡¯t they smell the others?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Possibly. However, there are humans everywhere, and they don¡¯t have our specific scent, so if fortune favors us, they¡¯ll pass us by.¡±

    When one wandered toward a working lamp, Rodrigo got a better look. It was huge. Closer to a horse than a wolf and with brawny hind legs twice as large as its forelegs. Its long, pointed ears, covered in fur, jut out of the upper part of its head, which was skeletal.

    ¡°Perfect, Dreadhounds,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°As in, of Dreadmus, Hell¡¯s capital. The hounds are titled by what cities they were born and trained in. Only hounds aligned with Dreadmus don masks crafted from the bones of their first kills.¡±

    One of the bushes rustled. Every hound locked onto it at once, converging on the bush and growling as they drew nearer.

    ¡°Dammit! Surrounded by incompetence,¡± Resent said as he got to his feet.

    Before he could dive from the refuge of the tree, screams came from farther down the path. The pack spun and darted after a man and woman who had broken into an all-out run.

    The tension left Resent¡¯s limbs. ¡°Excellent. As long as they have those two to play with, they should forget about whichever one of our brigade of halfwits went spastic.¡±

    The hounds were so obscenely fast, they would pounce on the couple in seconds. Unlike the horde of suffering people from earlier, Rodrigo might make a difference here. ¡°We should help them. Maybe you could scare that pack off just by showing up.¡±

    ¡°Let me understand this. You expect the Prince of Hell to fight against his fellow demons, more so, his own subjects, for the sake of some insignificant humans?¡±

    ¡°All right, let me just¡ª¡±

    ¡°Be killed in seconds? Because that¡¯s what would occur without my intervention. Now, I know your sense of self-preservation is tenuous at best, but why risk the lives of your kith and kin over complete strangers?¡±

    Though Rodrigo hated to admit it, Resent was right. He wanted to help, and allowing these people to essentially be used as sacrifices, even to lure the hounds away from his family, was flat-out the worst thing he¡¯d ever done. But what good would he be to Raquel and Carlito if he ended up dead? As long as they were vulnerable, he couldn¡¯t act impulsively.

    It was minutes later when Resent regrouped with the others down on the ground. The couple had run far enough to be out of sight by the end. Their screams had lasted mere seconds before dying with them. If there was the thinnest silver lining, it was that the hounds didn¡¯t play with their prey. Their howling faded as they got farther away.

    Rodrigo half-expected someone to call Resent out on letting those two die, or at least talk about how horrible it was. But other than the trembling that had become a natural state for them since the hotel, no one seemed to have much of a reaction. Maybe it was because with all they¡¯d seen, two more deaths paled in comparison. Or maybe it was because the cries of people being butchered already surrounded them, and had become like white noise.

    ¡°What were those things?¡± Carlito asked as they reached the park¡¯s exit. ¡°I couldn¡¯t see anything.¡±

    ¡°Hounds,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°L-like Cerberus, the three-headed guard dog of the underworld?¡±

    ¡°Never heard of it. Sounds like more rampant human imagination. Though demons having multiple heads isn¡¯t unprecedented.¡±

    ¡°Kay,¡± Leila said. ¡°So, there¡¯s the goth knights, the douchey little winged ones, the not-so-gentle giant, and now...hounds. What else do we have to look forward to?¡± She started off trying to sound blithe, but by the end, her cracking voice was pleading, as if hoping Resent would say they¡¯d already seen the worst Hell had to offer.

    ¡°Far too many races to delve into.¡±

    When they finally arrived across the street from the museum, the others all seemed on their last legs. Carlito was especially exhausted, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead and fighting to catch his breath. Resent took one look at him and shook his head, repulsed.

    On the broad staircase of the Met, flanked by a pair of square granite fountains, each spouting dozens of jets of water arcing into the air, a brutal battle between diavoliks and a SWAT team was in progress. Armed with assault rifles, you would think the officers would at least be on equal footing with the demons, brandishing swords and spears. But with bullets that were barely denting the armor of the diavoliks, the police were struggling to keep them at bay.

    ¡°Uh, what¡¯s that?¡± Carlito asked, pointing up into the distance. They followed his finger and saw a gray, flying figure carrying a screaming person. At first there was one, then several others appeared, each of them holding at least one captive.

    ¡°The malformed,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°Why do they call themselves that? Low self-confidence?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t choose the name. It was given to them when a diavolik and imp first procreated and wound up dissatisfied with the result. Of course, now there are so many malformed that they can mate with each other.¡±

    Rodrigo gagged. ¡°Thanks for that lovely mental image.¡±

    ¡°What are they doing with those people?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Transporting prisoners to Hell, where they will use them as slaves, meat, or for a brief bit of amusement. No matter, they seem to be leaving.¡± Resent took out Rodrigo¡¯s vibrating cellphone and stared at it. It was unclear whether he was at a loss or just didn¡¯t want to bother, but he returned control.

    Adena spoke as soon as Rodrigo answered the phone. ¡°I see you made it.¡±

    Maybe it was because everyone around him was in such an uproar that he was starting to find the sound of her calm, even-tempered voice a salve for his frayed nerves. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re on East 82nd Street, across from the museum. Now, where¡ª¡±

    Raquel shrieked.

    Rodrigo spun and saw a malformed lifting her into the sky. Like the imps, it had a tail and pointed ears, though like diavoliks still had some white in its eyes. Where its mouth should have been, there were folds of torn flesh that looked like lips had been materializing, but gave up halfway. Up close, it wasn¡¯t as big as he thought. Being about the size of a tall man with an athletic build, it was its proportional wingspan that made it come across as far larger.

    Leila was already shooting with her shotgun, in a picture-perfect stance, firing again and again at the demon¡¯s back to avoid hitting Raquel. Each ear-ringing blast hit the demon, but failed to pierce its skin, or even stun it.

    Rodrigo tossed a backpedaling Carlito the phone. The malformed was airborne with Raquel flailing in its arms, when Rodrigo slammed the nebulae into the ground and gripped its right wing. He was hoping to weigh it down, but the demon didn¡¯t seem to notice him. He put his left palm inches from the malformed¡¯s head and formed the sphere. Four spikes protruded from it and...bounced harmlessly off its skull?

    If nothing else, he now had the malformed¡¯s undivided attention as it dropped Raquel. Before he could let go of its wing, the malformed shot into the sky. It flew in a frenzy, trying to shake him off, but Rodrigo was holding on for dear life as they were now hundreds of feet in the air and rising. The more their altitude increased, the further his vision deteriorated as the frigid wind stung his eyes.

    Unlike every other demon so far, the malformed was silent. Nothing but the sound of beating wings. And that was only more frightening. Rodrigo drew his sword, stabbing at the demon¡¯s other wing, but again, he might as well have been striking a boulder.

    ¡°Do you not yet grasp that a malformed¡¯s skin is thicker and their bones denser than the majority of demons?" Resent asked. "If your plan is to let this mute bastard drag us into deep space, then let me know now.¡±

    Rodrigo sheathed the blade. So if stabbing this thing wasn¡¯t bothering it, he only had one other option before he completely succumbed to his rising sense of vertigo. With his free hand, he stretched the nebulae into a chain and wrapped it around the malformed¡¯s throat. He was hoping to somehow steer its flight, but all it accomplished was alarming the demon. It began plunging toward the earth.

    ¡°Oh, crap.¡± If Rodrigo kept clinging to the malformed, within seconds, he¡¯d end up a stain on the pavement. He dissipated the nebulae and released the wing. The malformed grabbed for him without stopping, but it was descending faster than he was. Once the view stopped looking like it did from the Spiral¡¯s summit, Rodrigo brought out the nebulae so that he could parachute down. But the demon was already launching itself back up at him.

    As Rodrigo looked at the oncoming malformed, in wide-eyed horror, a column of blistering flame erupted from the ground. With the silence its lack of a mouth cursed it to, the demon didn¡¯t make a peep as the flesh melted off its bones, leaving a charred skeleton behind. Rodrigo landed without difficulty, and the others hurried over to him.

    ¡°What was that fire just now?¡± Leila asked.

    Rodrigo glanced around until he spotted her. The white-haired girl dressed in black was standing on the sidewalk, unfazed by the pandemonium that surrounded her. ¡°Adena.¡±

 Chapter 19 - Blight

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°Believe it or not, a lot of this blood didn¡¯t come from me.¡±

    ¡°I can tell. Even if it¡¯s red, theirs tends to run darker than ours. You¡¯d still be dead if you couldn¡¯t heal.¡± As she spoke, her eyes were in constant motion, scanning the area for immediate danger. She was walking at a brisk pace, but her face was impassive. ¡°By the way, who¡¯s the girl? You didn¡¯t have a girlfriend last time I checked.¡±

    Rodrigo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like he was being accused of something. ¡°Leila¡¯s just an old friend...and how would you even know that? Did you bug my phone?¡±

    ¡°No. I implanted a microchip under your skin.¡± When Rodrigo patted himself down as if it¡¯d be protruding from somewhere, Adena rolled her eyes. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve been tracking your phone. I¡¯m not a savage. Anyway, you should have mentioned you were bringing her.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, that sort of slipped my mind while we were running for our lives.¡± It was only after Rodrigo said it, that it hit home. The whole time, people were rushing past them, being pursued by demons, but his group was being ignored. ¡°What¡¯s going on? It¡¯s like we¡¯re suddenly invisible.¡±

    ¡°Demons aren¡¯t mindless zombies out to attack anyone they see,¡± Adena said. ¡°They can sense that I have a Flair and that you¡¯re an energumen. For now, they¡¯re surrounded by easier prey, so most of them won¡¯t bother us.¡±

    As if her words had been a direct challenge to it, a lone diavolik with a sword and shield blocked their path. Dressed in a slimmer variation of the armor that the other diavoliks wore, this one had a female physique.

    ¡°Then again, there¡¯re always the ones with more pride than sense seeking a battlefield promotion,¡± Adena said.

    ¡°Flair or not, you are still a mere human. Simply speaking in your shallow, archaic tongue disgusts me. What right do you have to be so pompous?¡± the diavolik demanded.

    ¡°Good question,¡± Resent said.

    Several other demons were now taking an interest in the standoff, forgetting about the humans they had been chasing and joining the female diavolik. Rodrigo gripped the hilt of his sword. He knew Adena was strong, but the demons¡¯ numbers were growing by the second, and soon they¡¯d start creeping up behind them. Leila had her shotgun raised, for all the good it would do, standing in front of Raquel and Carlito protectively.

    ¡°Relax,¡± Adena said from beside him. Her gloved hands ignited, casting an orange glow over her pale face. ¡°I¡¯ll make this quick.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no,¡± the diavolik said, stepping back. Most of the demons appeared as confused as Rodrigo was. ¡°I failed to recognize her without that accursed mask. She is one of them.¡±

    ¡°One of whom?¡± an imp asked in a shrill tone.

    Through the slits of her helmet, the diavolik¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°One of the Blight.¡±

    Blight. The uttered word rippled through the gathered demons, sending some bolting in the opposite direction of Rodrigo¡¯s group. Others, like the female diavolik who instigated the confrontation, stomped off with their dignity intact, simply seeming cheated and disappointed. Adena kept moving like nothing had happened.

    Before Rodrigo could ask for an explanation, Resent took control, as he was becoming disturbingly accustomed to doing since the invasion began, even in non-violent situations. ¡°I¡¯ve grown weary of speculating about what your connection to Hell is. Time to speak up.¡±

    Adena halted and looked over her shoulder at him, aloof. ¡°Not now. We¡¯ll talk inside.¡±

    ¡°As you stated, the other demons have little interest in us without provocation. Either divulge what this Blight nonsense is about now, or we¡¯re done here.¡±

    ¡°Are you nuts? If anything, she just proved being around her is one of the safest places to be,¡± Rodrigo said.

    ¡°And you have no qualms about this woman leading us around, despite demons fleeing at the sight of her?¡±

    ¡°She said we¡¯d talk about it when we get there. Let it go for now.¡±

    After a few more seconds, Resent returned control, and Adena turned, striding on.

    As time passed, it was growing colder. Or maybe Rodrigo had been too worried about being killed before to notice. They continued on, unspeaking, as they crossed the long city blocks of 5<sup>th</sup> Avenue. Traffic lights were now irrelevant, as the cars still in use were speeding past regardless.

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Adena said, as she stopped in front of a tall wrought-iron gate. At the press of a button on a remote, the gate parted and swung inward. Beyond it was a massive Gothic mansion, wider than it was tall, and built from stone. The building¡¯s inviting, large white windows were contradicted by the shut dark curtains inside. The slate roofs and spires gave the impression of a cathedral or castle from a bygone era. A cobblestone walkway was encircled by trimmed hedges, which were surrounded by grass, and led to a small, well-tended garden. Everyone was in awe at the regal presentation of the place as they followed her.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know private mansions like this even still existed in Manhattan,¡± Rodrigo said.

    Adena unlocked one of the double front doors. ¡°Besides Gracie Mansion, where the mayor lives, they¡¯ve mostly been torn down or made into historic landmarks. My father had this place built from scratch.¡±

    Waiting in the hall to greet them was a man wearing a red dress shirt and a black vest. ¡°Good evening, all of you. Welcome back, Miss Adena.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Her voice softened ever so slightly as she addressed him. ¡°Everyone, this is my butler, Stefan.¡±

    Rodrigo found it odd that the man was so young. Mid-thirties at most. To some extent, years of TV and movies had brainwashed him into thinking butlers were all old and British.

    Stefan went around collecting everyone¡¯s coats and bags, not even flinching as he took Rodrigo¡¯s gory gear. ¡°Would anyone care for refreshments?¡±

    At the mention of food, Resent was ranting away about his next meal, but with all Rodrigo had seen today, he doubted he¡¯d be able to keep anything solid down. The others must have been on the same wavelength, because nearly everyone agreed on water.

    ¡°Coffee for me,¡± Adena said.

    ¡°I realize this may seem an absurd request with all that¡¯s transpiring, but please do take your shoes off so you don¡¯t track blood in,¡± Stefan said gingerly, eyeing Rodrigo in particular. Not sticking around to see if they would comply, he disappeared deeper into the mansion.

    ¡°Um...is getting comfortable really a great idea?¡± Leila asked. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, what if demons show up and we have to run for it?¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°

    They did as she said and saw a gold necklace with a gray, rhombus-shaped gem hanging from a nail. Rodrigo had the vague feeling he had seen one of those before. Maybe an item he had picked up on subconsciously in one of Resent¡¯s memories.

    ¡°It¡¯s a fade periapt, and what it does is make sure that the demons won¡¯t sense anyone in this house. Since most of them are only here to slaughter, they won¡¯t bother with an empty building,¡± Adena explained.

    ¡°How does that work?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Usually it¡¯s worn by demons for stealth, but by placing it in an enclosed area, anyone

    ¡°No, not that. This whole thing where they can sense stuff about people without seeing or hearing anything. I heard you talking to my brother about it earlier, but I still don¡¯t get it.¡±

    ne sense that¡¯s as common for demons as sight is for us is to feel life energy, like an internal radar,¡± Adena said. ¡°For example, if they were approaching this house and that amulet wasn¡¯t there, they¡¯d know how many people were in here, and that Rodrigo and I are different from the rest of you. Basically, hiding from or sneaking up on a demon isn¡¯t easy.¡±

    ¡°But we have been able to hide from some of them,¡± Raquel said.

    ¡°Right now, with them not used to so many humans being around, most demons are probably having a sensory overload and finding it difficult to pinpoint people. But they¡¯ll adapt to that soon.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not good, but something you said before worries me more,¡± Carlito said, speaking for the first time since they met up with Adena. ¡°You said ¡®most¡¯ won¡¯t bother with an empty building. What about the ones that do?¡±

    Then Adena did something unexpected. She smiled. It was thin and brief, but Rodrigo had at least noticed. ¡°You¡¯re sharp. I thought you had gone into shock, which I wouldn¡¯t have blamed you for under the circumstances, but you¡¯ve been paying attention. More than some, anyway.¡± She cast a withering glance at Leila, who had walked away at some point and was staring at a spot on the polished wooden wall.

    ¡°Y¡¯know, just because I¡¯m not huddled around you like you¡¯re the quarterback, doesn¡¯t mean I stopped listening.¡± Though Leila¡¯s tone was mirthful, it made Rodrigo realize he, Raquel, and Carlito had crowded around Adena in a loose circle. She pointed at the wall in front of her. ¡°I was just surprised seeing this. I wouldn¡¯t have guessed that was your natural color.¡±

    Unable to see what she was referring to from where he was, Rodrigo went to stand by Leila. It was a gold-framed oil painting of a family in formal attire, all with a severe shortage of melanin. A man smiling slyly, who looked to be in his late-twenties, stood with a hand resting on the right shoulder of a beaming boy, and the other on the left shoulder of a sullen Adena. Appearing to be about seven or eight in the portrait, same as her brother, she had been even paler at the time, seeming sickly compared to the rest of her family.

    ¡°Are they here? Are we gonna meet them?¡± Raquel asked, taking a keen interest in the boy. If Adena was anything to go by, he¡¯d be an intimidatingly handsome young man by now.

    ¡°No,¡± Adena said with finality.

    Leila¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°Wait. You own the Bloodstone Hotel?¡±

    ¡°

    ¡°That¡¯s terrific. So that means you¡¯re pretty much set here,¡± Leila said.

    ¡°Maybe if it wasn¡¯t finite. The dimmer it gets, the less effective it becomes. Unfortunately, it won¡¯t hold for more than another day with how many demons are roaming around. But we won¡¯t be here by then. We¡¯ll be leaving for a more secure location at daybreak.¡±

    ¡°The fade periapt is a rarity, but certainly obtainable in Hell. However, this foul orb...¡± Resent trailed off.

    ¡°Is it affecting you?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. Did you fail to hear her say ¡®the average demon?¡¯¡±

    Rodrigo didn¡¯t bother arguing because he knew Resent had to be putting up a front. He had been feeling dazed himself since entering the living room. Using his phone, he gave Jett another call. A recorded, emotionless female voice told him the number couldn¡¯t be reached right now, suggesting nothing good. How long would it be before they saw a power outage and cell towers went dead, turning their phones into paperweights? Maybe he should¡¯ve bought a couple of handheld radios at the mall.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go get those drinks,¡± Adena said. ¡°You all look dehydrated after that trek.¡±

    She led them into the elegant dining hall. There must have been twenty high-backed chairs around the long, rectangular table. Adena sat at its head, with Rodrigo and Carlito to her left, and Raquel and Leila to her right. Stefan brought her a resin skull mug, almost whimsical for its solemn owner, filled to the stainless steel brim with black coffee. He poured the rest of them glasses of ice water from a pitcher, which he left on the table before leaving the room.

    Adena took a swig of her steaming coffee without so much as a wince. ¡°As for Resent¡¯s earlier question, I¡¯m sure by now you all know about how more than a few humans have either stumbled into or been taken to Hell.¡±

    Resent took over, making Carlito shift uncomfortably in his seat.

    ¡°What are you doing now?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°To tell if she¡¯s being truthful, it¡¯s best if I meet her eyes when she tells her story.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Resent said the demons use us as slaves,¡± Carlito said with a quaver in his voice.

    ¡°Personally, I don¡¯t much care for enslaving you humans. Your frailty and short lifespans make you of little use to me,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°So why does it happen?¡±

    ¡°All you need do is review the history of your own species. You have few misgivings about enslaving one another as long as it benefits you with monetary gain. Why should it come as a shock that your superiors would treat you similarly?¡±

    ¡°Just because it¡¯s happened in the past doesn¡¯t make it right,¡± Carlito said, finding his nerve. ¡°You could have set an example for the other demons.¡±

    Resent scoffed. ¡°Forgive me if I don¡¯t heed a human child¡¯s advice on governing Hell. Besides, my father harbored similar delusions about revolutionizing our world, chastising his fellow demons at every opportunity for their nature and traditions. Such sanctimonious thinking surely contributed to his demise. After all, someone must do the menial labor that not even the lowest of demons will.¡±

    Adena huffed dismissively. ¡°Fascinating a topic as this is, you two can debate on it on your own. My point lies with the humans that aren¡¯t enslaved. The ones given a weapon and some armor and forced to fight demons in the arena with the incentive that, if they win, they¡¯ll be sent home. Of course, with the tremendous gap in capability, even one-on-one, the average human never makes it out alive.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard tell of a few lucky survivors,¡± Resent said, his interest in the subject waning as he scanned the area for Stefan.

    ¡°That¡¯s just it. The majority of those exceptions barely pull through the fights and succumb to their wounds soon after. It¡¯s rigged. But there are six people who shattered all expectations and ended up tearing the demons apart. A Blight on Hell itself.¡±

    The reemergence of the word took Resent¡¯s mind off his appetite. ¡°Humble, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Raquel raised her hand like she was in a classroom, but didn¡¯t bother to wait to be called on. ¡°So you were kidnapped by a demon like the one that tried to snatch me up?¡±

    Adena paused and as she reached the bottom of her coffee mug, sighing deeply, Rodrigo could tell she wanted to withdraw from this conversation. Yet, she continued, ¡°I inherited my Flair for fire from my father, but if one parent is normal, like I was told my mother was, it¡¯s a coin flip. My twin brother, Flint, was born without a Flair, and the demons murdered him in that arena. The one who arranged it all? King Misery himself. In a blind rage, my father, who was nowhere near as strong as I am now, went after him. The stupid man never even made it past the royal guard.¡± Adena absently lifted her mug to her lips, then when she found no coffee, poured some water instead. ¡°I¡¯ve been planning Misery¡¯s death since I was ten.¡±

 Chapter 20 â€“ The Armory

    The silence in the wake of Adena¡¯s story was suffocating. Resent had stared at her for a long moment, then returned control to Rodrigo. Raquel was kicking him under the table, prompting him to say something, but he was at a loss. Assassinating the King of Hell had seemed an absurd fantasy when Adena had first mentioned it. But clearly, with her smokey eyes, glazed over in dark remembrance, this was very real to her. She would never have any semblance of peace until Misery was ash and bone. At least, that¡¯s how Rodrigo would feel.

    Leila, who had been quiet the whole time, other than the sound of her nervously tapping her fingers on the table, broke the silence. ¡°I know we don¡¯t know each other or anything, so it might not mean much, but I¡¯m really, truly, sorry for what happened to your family. But...this Misery guy. What exactly is your plan?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not there yet,¡± Adena said. In a startling motion, she sprang out of her chair and onto her feet, the caffeine apparently now in full swing. ¡°I have something to show all of you. I would rather get this done today so we¡¯re better prepared for tomorrow.¡±

    Since everyone was too wired to sleep, they went up to the second floor where two guest rooms had been prepared for them, then continued up another flight of steps. There were several doors, but Adena stopped in front of the first and unlocked it with a key. As she pushed it open, jaws went slack and eyes grew wide. Guns, swords, polearms, knives, and other weapons of all kinds and sizes hung on the walls. Some were on tables and others were on standing racks.

    ¡°Welcome to my armory,¡± Adena said. ¡°As I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed, normal weapons have little effect on demons and won¡¯t do anything to the stronger ones. However, these are all either from Hell or have been enchanted. Take some time to pick what you like.¡±

    ¡°Now, when you say enchanted, can you define that? For the kids, I mean,¡± Rodrigo said in a vain attempt to mask his ignorance on demonology.

    ¡°After my fight in the arena, I started taking occasional trips back to Hell with weapons from our world. A necromancer there, who isn¡¯t fond of Misery, strengthens them for me.¡±

    ¡°A necromancer¡¯s abilities revolve around harvesting the souls of the recently deceased,¡± Resent said. ¡°I suppose if they could pry the aspect granting a demon their Flair from a soul that no longer has use for it, they could imbue a weapon with it.¡±

    Rodrigo was eyeing a basket-hilted cavalry saber, about ten inches longer and with a less drastic curve than his short sword, when he heard Raquel. ¡°How come these bullets are all different colors?¡±

    ¡°With guns, things are a bit more complicated,¡± Adena said. ¡°Guns aren¡¯t native to Hell as demons have been unimpressed when they¡¯ve encountered them, so it¡¯s not the firearm but the cartridges that are enchanted. I had these cast in specific colors, representing their effects.¡±

    Carlito glanced at the open crate of ammunition. ¡°Red¡¯s fire, blue¡¯s either ice or water, and yellow¡¯s electricity.¡±

    ¡°Points for you.¡±

    ¡°Nerd,¡± Raquel muttered. ¡°Still, that¡¯s so cool. That means if I got a gun, it¡¯d be like I had powers, too.¡±

    ¡°Raquel, look at the other weapons. You can¡¯t use a gun,¡± Rodrigo said.

    ¡°Wanna bet?¡±

    ¡°If you want to try out a couple of guns with normal rounds, there¡¯s a small target range in the next room,¡± Adena said, ignoring his objection.

    ¡°Raquel, come on, just put the gun down and pick something else,¡± Rodrigo insisted.

    ¡°I could show her how to use it the right way if you¡¯re, like, worried she¡¯s gonna shoot herself,¡± Leila said.

    The truth was, Rodrigo didn¡¯t want Raquel and Carlito carrying weapons. It would encourage them to take risks instead of staying hidden. Then again, that malformed nearly abducted Raquel right off the sidewalk. If he had reacted a few seconds later, she could have been gone forever. At least for a while, they¡¯d be in harm¡¯s way regardless. And a ranged weapon was probably the safest way for a human to take on a demon.

    ¡°I guess I¡¯m okay with that.¡± Rodrigo followed the girls out of the room while Carlito kept browsing the weapons.

    As Leila went over the basics of firearms, Rodrigo was glad to see his sister focused and taking it seriously. Despite only being interested in edged weapons, he paid attention, too, just in case there came a time he had to use one. Once Raquel was ready to start shooting, Adena handed them each a pair of safety glasses and earplugs.

    ¡°All right, the targets will pop up ten yards from you, five seconds from now,¡± Adena said as she clicked a red button and a bell rang.

    ¡°So how do I do it?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Before you pull the trigger, show me how you¡¯d shoot on your own,¡± Leila said.

    Raquel bent her knees and leaned forward slightly, mimicking Leila¡¯s posture from when she had shot at the malformed. She held the gun in her right hand and closed her left eye.

    ¡°Kay, so first, use both hands. You¡¯re not a pro or a character in a movie. And even if closing an eye can increase accuracy, it restricts your field of vision and considering what¡¯s outside, that¡¯s a no-no. Your stance is pretty good, though, so let¡¯s see how you do.¡±

    Raquel opened her eye, cupped her right hand, and squeezed the trigger. The kick of the pistol sent it bouncing upward, but not enough to miss the target completely. She squealed with delight and kept shooting until she ran out of ammo. ¡°How was that, teach?¡±

    Leila nodded in approval. ¡°You¡¯ve got good aim. Even with the recoil you didn¡¯t miss once. That Makarov¡¯s too high a caliber for you, though. Adena, do you have anything more kid-friendly?¡±

    ¡°Try this,¡± Adena said, handing Raquel a little red box.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    She opened it and out came a sleek black pistol with a pearl white slide. It was resting in a black leather holster. ¡°This is amazing. What kind is it?¡±

    ¡°A custom Beretta Px4 Storm SubCompact. It¡¯s a 9mm and was going to be used by someone younger than you are, so it should be a good fit.¡± Adena¡¯s face twitched after she said that, and she made her way to the door. ¡°It¡¯s yours now, so take good care of it. Anyway, you should all clean yourselves up and try to get some rest. If you thought today was rough, tomorrow will be a nightmare.¡±

    ¡°I wonder whose gun this was going to be,¡± Raquel said, after Adena had left the shooting range. Rodrigo couldn¡¯t be certain, but from the pained manner in which she had presented the weapon, it only made sense to have been intended for her brother.

    ¡°Who knows,¡± Leila said, in a sad tone that implied she was thinking along the same lines. She also headed for the exit. ¡°Be back in a few. I need to pick out a new shotgun. Don¡¯t want to carry that pervert¡¯s any longer than I have to.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go with you,¡± Rodrigo said. The eagerness in his voice just then was cringeworthy, so he tried to gloss over it. ¡°You know, to see what Carlito¡¯s up to. Raquel, no more shooting until Leila gets back, all right?¡±

    Raquel sucked her teeth and scowled at him, but eventually gave a reluctant nod. Just because she knew the basics now and had half-decent aim, didn¡¯t mean he was okay with her shooting unsupervised. Not unless there was no other choice.

    Back in the armory, Carlito was nowhere to be seen. Rodrigo¡¯s eyes darted around the room, like his brother was playing hide-and-seek and would turn up crouching behind a weapon rack.

    ¡°He probably went to sleep,¡± Leila suggested, soothing Rodrigo¡¯s mounting panic. ¡°Today¡¯s been...well, I don¡¯t even have the words. But if he didn¡¯t, it¡¯s not like he¡¯d leave the mansion.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. He¡¯s not that reckless.¡± Not like Raquel toting a brand new pistol would be. ¡°What kind of shotgun are you in the market for, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Since regular ammo can¡¯t really hurt the demons, I might as well pick out something in a smaller gauge with a little less kick.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s crazy how much you know about this stuff.¡±

    Leila put her hands on her hips and gave him the stink eye. ¡°Is a girl knowing about guns really that big of a shocker to you?¡±

    Rodrigo took an involuntary step back. ¡°N-no, that¡¯s not what I¡ª¡±

    Leila cracked a smile before he could finish. ¡°Relax, I¡¯m just playing. I know unlike Adena, I don¡¯t seem the type. But growing up, my dad made plenty of time to teach me and Hannah how to defend ourselves.¡±

    And that was when it dawned on Rodrigo that not once had he stopped to question why Leila was so proficient with guns. Based on what he remembered of her family from his elementary school days, it just seemed fitting. ¡°He was a soldier back in Lebanon, right?¡±

    Her eyebrows rose in surprise at his memory. ¡°Yeah. The Lebanese Armed Forces. Back when he and my mom were living there it was mandatory for guys once they turned eighteen. But my dad liked it enough that he volunteered to serve longer.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think he liked me much,¡± Rodrigo said, recalling Mr. Azar¡¯s intensity. ¡°Whenever I came over, and he was home, he would sort of hover. Crossing his arms and glaring, like he was waiting for me to do something wrong.¡±

    Leila¡¯s laugh, her first real laugh since their reunion, was like music to him. He had forgotten how much he missed the sound. ¡°Oh, please. You got it easy compared to every boy that came after. He totally had a soft spot for you. After what happened, he told me it was a good thing you could protect the people you cared about.¡±

    Just like that, Rodrigo¡¯s reminiscence of a better, more innocent time evaporated. He had convinced himself that after the fight in the cafeteria and his suspension, Leila¡¯s parents had forbidden her from hanging out with him. Surely, that was the only way four years of close friendship could amount to dodged calls and being turned away at the door. ¡°And you couldn¡¯t tell you were one of them?¡±

    ¡°Oh my god, why are you being such an asshole over ancient history?¡± Leila snapped, her cheerfulness ebbing away with such speed that it was as if it had been a mirage. ¡°Sorry I was an eleven-year-old, who saw my best guy friend suddenly go postal and found it scary as hell!¡±

    Despite how petty it was in the grand scheme of things, Rodrigo wanted to be upset with Leila. Or rather, he wanted to have the option to be. It was bad enough losing so many friends and having no recollection of why. Worse, was losing your first crush without ever getting the chance to tell her how you felt. He would have preferred outright rejection to the lack of closure.

    But the longer he was near her, the more his indignation felt like a facade. When he looked at her, not timidly through her or in her general direction, but straight on, at her pretty olive-skinned face, anger was low on the spectrum of emotions he felt. And even then, he couldn¡¯t be sure if it was at her, or because of the downward spiral his life took after losing her.

    Leila was silent, examining the various guns in the room. Rodrigo was turning to leave when she grabbed his hand. ¡°Wait a sec. Look, I¡¯m sorry for losing it like that. I just...I need a friend right now, not someone reminding me of the crappy life choices I¡¯ve made. If anything, I should be thanking you.¡±

    ¡°What for?¡± Rodrigo asked, taken aback by the one-eighty of the conversation.

    ¡°I mean, when Bianca was...killed, it messed me up. Bad enough that she was my best friend. But what was happening in that hotel...I couldn¡¯t accept it. If it wasn¡¯t for you, I really don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve moved from that spot. So, thanks.¡±

    Leila leaned forward, invading Rodrigo¡¯s personal space so thoroughly that he could smell the remnant of strawberry shampoo applied earlier in the day. And for a delusional second, he thought, no, hoped, she was going to kiss him. He must have been more transparent than he felt, because her full lips curled knowingly as she gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. ¡°I would¡¯ve hugged you, but...¡± Leila pointed at him, wagging her finger up and down.

    Rodrigo felt the sting of insecurity, until he realized she was referring to the dry blood on him, then flushed beet red at his own self-doubt. ¡°You don¡¯t have to. It was no big thing.¡±

    ¡°Is making a bigger fool of yourself than usual a necessary part of the human mating ritual?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°S-shut up.¡±

    ¡°Goodnight,¡± Leila said.

    ¡°Night,¡± Rodrigo said.

    After leaving the armory, he went downstairs and pushed open the door of the nearest guest room. Carlito was stretched out in a queen-size-bed, sleeping on his back. Rodrigo went over and covered his brother with the red satin comforter he had already kicked off. Then he sat down on a bed of the same size across from his. He detached the sheathed sword from his belt and placed it on the nightstand. Even with everything that had happened tonight, personal hygiene dictated that he change into something clean. After a brisk shower in the adjoining bathroom washed blood as dark as ink from his skin and hair, he threw on some fresh clothes from his backpack.

    Rodrigo imagined he¡¯d pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn¡¯t. Now that it was quiet, he could hear noises from outside. They were faint, but there was definitely screaming and gunfire nearby. Since he had entered Adena¡¯s mansion, he somehow repressed that people were being murdered en masse beyond its gate. The worst part was that there was no way for the average person to defend themselves. They couldn¡¯t outrun the demons, or hide from them, and any weapons they had would be useless. It was so ridiculously one-sided that it was utterly obscene. And all for what?

    Rodrigo tossed and turned for about an hour, unable to stop replaying the day¡¯s horrible events in his mind before he shot up and seized his sword. With Raquel and Carlito safe here, he could actually go find out how the rest of his family was doing. Maybe he¡¯d even be able to save some lives on the way. At least two, to balance the scales.

 Chapter 21 â€“ Crossing Blades

    ¡°How do you envision your pitiable attempt at rescuing the oh-so blameless humans going?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t just do nothing while the world¡¯s falling apart around me.¡±

    ¡°How about at least learning the basics of the sword, instead? The way you use it is downright shameful.¡± Refamiliarizing himself with the weapon wasn¡¯t a bad idea, and it¡¯d definitely distract him from thoughts of a doomed one-man war against demonkind. But he would need a wider area.

    Going from the dark room to the brightly lit hallway made Rodrigo squint in annoyance. As he drifted toward the staircase that led up, steps partially covered at their center by a burgundy Persian stair runner, a voice came from behind him, ¡°Good evening. Are you looking for Miss Adena?¡±

    Rodrigo jumped. He was surprised to see Stefan still awake and was a bit unsettled by how easily the butler had sneaked up on him. ¡°Not really. I can¡¯t sleep and was wondering if there was anywhere in the house I could go to work out?¡±

    ¡°We have a small gymnasium that might suit your purposes. Please, follow me.¡± Stefan started up the steps and Rodrigo trailed behind him.

    It seemed rude to say nothing, so he made small talk. ¡°So, Stefan, been working here long?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been employed by the Eckhart family for twenty years now.¡± At Rodrigo¡¯s puzzled expression, he elaborated. ¡°Yes. I was hardly much older than you when Master Lucas hired me, and I had nothing in the way of professional experience. Bonds forged through hardship run deep, you see.¡±

    After accepting that Stefan wasn¡¯t going to describe said hardship, Rodrigo went with a less intimate question. ¡°Do you keep this place running all by yourself?¡±

    Stefan chuckled. ¡°Oh God, no. I am the sole live-in employee, but we typically have a full staff here during the day, including twenty-four-hour security to guard the premises.¡±

    Rodrigo didn¡¯t say anything about not having seen a single security guard outside. He figured Stefan was aware, and imagined no matter how well they were paid, it wasn¡¯t enough to worry about their employer while their families were in danger. ¡°Has Adena always been...how she is?¡±

    The butler paused for a few beats. ¡°To you, she must come across as rather cold. What you need to understand is that during her life, Miss Adena hasn¡¯t had many opportunities to connect with people her own age. Or, of any age, for that matter.¡±

    Stefan stopped in front of double doors on the third floor, just past the shooting range. ¡°Here we are. If you need anything else, I¡¯ll be on the first floor.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± As Rodrigo shoved open one of the doors, he staggered back, his head swimming. It was like he had teleported in front of an open-hearth furnace. Standing in a space away from the weights and exercise machines, was the obvious source of this dizzying heat wave. Adena was wearing a black sports bra and leggings, with scarlet flames dancing in the palms of her outstretched hands. The surrounding air seemed to be bending in response.

    Since she had been bundled up all this time, Rodrigo hadn¡¯t realized how lean with muscle she was. Her arms and long legs were toned, and she even had well-defined abs. Below her neck, the skin he could see was covered in flat, pale scars of varying sizes. Whatever she was doing must have been enthralling, because she ignored his entry. The air conditioner blowing furiously in the corner was doing little to counteract the sweat dripping off her in rivulets.

    Rodrigo felt like he was intruding on something private and considered coming back later, but curiosity got the better of him. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Seeing how high I can raise the temperature before I get second-degree burns,¡± Adena said, unperturbed by his presence.

    ¡°You¡¯re not immune to fire?¡±

    Adena sighed as the intensity of the flames died down, brightening into a more standard orange, then fizzling out entirely. She went over to a small fridge and grabbed an ice-cold bottle of water. She chugged down half of it before rubbing the bottle over the swelling red spots on her hands. ¡°I¡¯m resistant to it, but I have to keep building up my tolerance. And what do you want?¡±

    ¡°Just came to brush up on my sword skills. Didn¡¯t you say you were going to sleep?¡±

    ¡°I said the rest of you should. No one who drinks twenty-ounces of coffee has any intention of sleeping. Anyway, why a sword?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°

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    ¡°Who knows? Maybe I¡¯ve watched one too many samurai movies,¡± Rodrigo said.

    Adena frowned at him as she dried herself off with a towel. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and her skin was glistening with perspiration. This close, he could feel the heat emanating from her body, and decided that was the reason his mouth had gone dry.

    ¡°Honestly? Ever since we met, I¡¯ve felt like a newborn, having to learn everything from demonology to the nebulae from square one. And I¡¯m more dependent on you and Resent than I¡¯d like to be. That¡¯s why when I saw this sword, something I know at least a little about, I took it as a back-up. But I¡¯m years out of practice, and if my life ever depends on it...¡± Rodrigo stopped because Adena walked past him and out of the room.

    ¡°Your stupidity sickened her to such a degree she had to distance herself from you,¡± Resent said. ¡°So, you were a fencing champion, eh? How low the bar for swordsmanship must be in this world.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just teach me how to use this thing.¡±

    As he waited for the room to stop feeling like the Sahara, Rodrigo noticed the gym had no TVs or mirrors. He could appreciate that. For someone whose training could be the difference between life and death, the fewer distractions, the better.

    Seconds after Rodrigo drew his blade, Adena returned with a razor-sharp long sword in her right hand. He recognized it from period dramas set in ancient Rome, as a spatha, successor to the better-known gladius.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time to re-drill proper technique into you, and frankly, most of what you learned would be counterproductive,¡± Adena said. ¡°In a fight with a demon, the goal¡¯s not to score touches, but dismember, or better yet, decapitate them. So, we¡¯ll do this.¡±

    He scarcely raised his sword in time to block her blade from slicing into his cheek, the impact reverberating through his arm. ¡°Whoa, wait up. I barely remember what I¡¯m doing here. Shouldn¡¯t we use practice swords?¡±

    ¡°Because the demons will be using sticks, right? I won¡¯t get cut and you¡¯ll heal, so it¡¯s fine.¡± She came at him again, this time faster than he could defend, and slashed his right shoulder. He gritted his teeth. It was a shallow cut, but it still stung.

    ¡°Advice would be great!¡± Rodrigo yelled.

    Being a prick, Resent ignored him, probably agreeing with Adena¡¯s sink or swim method. Rodrigo went on the offensive and attempted an overhead strike. She parried it effortlessly and then stabbed him in his left thigh.

    ¡°

    ¡°If I let your mistakes slide, you¡¯ll get killed out there for repeating them. So, tell me, how did you rise to the top of your age group as a child?¡±

    ¡°

    Adena scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m sure that helped, but it¡¯s deeper than that. Right now, your every move is full of hesitation. Just like on the roof, you don¡¯t think you can beat me, and your family isn¡¯t in immediate danger, so you¡¯ve lost the drive to try. This is usually the point in the fight where Resent takes over, right? But what if he can¡¯t? You die. And now that nowhere is safe, who do you think dies next?¡±

    Rodrigo sucked in a breath. She was right, of course. If he was going to commit to this, he couldn¡¯t concern himself with how wide the gap between him and anyone else was. Only with doing everything he could to close it.

    She gave him a few seconds to collect himself, then whirled at him again.

    ¡°Give me your sword,¡± Adena said.

    Rodrigo passed it to her and went over to the fridge for a bottle of water.

    Her arm slumped slightly at its unexpected heft. ¡°No wonder you were so slow. This would be heavy for a .¡±

    Rodrigo realized his movements had been sluggish, but he was hoping he¡¯d adjust to it. The blade didn¡¯t seem too bad while using it briefly, though prolonged use left his arm aching and the rest of him exhausted. ¡°Aren¡¯t all the demons¡¯ weapons like that? I figured their swords weigh more since they¡¯re way stronger than us.¡±

    ¡°Weapons and armor from Hell are made primarily with nethntine, a metal of a quality that makes titanium and carbon steel seem like  That¡¯s why they¡¯re far more effective. The trade-off is they¡¯re several times heavier than their human equivalents would be. To demons, this weight is nothing,¡± Adena said and then returned Rodrigo¡¯s sword.

    ¡°What other choice is there, then? I¡¯ll have to get used to it.¡±

    ¡°You did see my armory, didn¡¯t you? The majority of the weapons there are¡±

    Stefan barged into the room, looking several shades paler than he had half an hour ago. ¡°Miss Adena! Something¡¯s wrong. The radiant orb you placed in the living room has gone dim.¡±

    ¡°Impossible. It should have lasted at least until...no. It doesn¡¯t matter. If that¡¯s the case, then demon activity has increased, and we need to move.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you still have the other thing that dulls their energy sense?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Not enough. Without that orb, we risk any demon breaking in here and catching us unaware. Wake the others up. Now.¡± Rather than waiting for a response, she stormed out with Stefan hurrying after her.

 Chapter 22 â€“ A Higher Power

    The next ten minutes passed in a blur as Rodrigo woke up Carlito, Raquel, and Leila, who seemed to be sleeping about as poorly as he had, before explaining the situation to them. Down in the living room, they met up with Adena, now back in her outdoor clothes.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Raquel asked, rubbing her eyes drowsily.

    ¡°To the warehouse I¡¯ve set up in Dumbo,¡± Adena said. ¡°Ideally, we would have been there long before this all started, but Misery accelerating his timeline, threw mine off.¡±

    ¡°What about our mom?¡± Carlito asked. ¡°We need to pick her up.¡±

    ¡°How about this?¡± Rodrigo suggested to Adena. ¡°Since we¡¯re headed to Brooklyn anyway, before we stop at your warehouse, we check in on her, Jett, and my aunt.¡±

    She glared at him. ¡°You make it sound like a minor inconvenience, but you¡¯re talking about going roughly six miles off course, twelve for a round trip, in the middle of a war zone.¡±

    Rodrigo knew she was already irritated with him for bringing Leila, and now he was talking about potentially adding three more people. If their roles were reversed, the idea of taking in even more strangers probably wouldn¡¯t appeal to him, either. And unless his aunt was hiding her stint as a bounty hunter somewhere between culinary school and now, they were three more mouths to feed, only one of which added to their combat power. He was at least grateful Adena had left all that unsaid. Especially how this dangerous detour could end up being for nothing.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget, Jett¡¯s like you guys. He can help,¡± Carlito said, seeming to grasp Adena¡¯s thought process.

    Rodrigo parted the curtains and peeked out the window. It was too dark to see much, but the gate was intact. He checked the cherry Bordeaux grandfather clock in the room to see it was past 3:00 am. He put on his coat and backpack, along with the rest of them.

    Adena led them outside to the garage where a dozen different vehicles were parked, all in dark or muted colors. She went over to her Escalade and unlocked the doors with her remote. ¡°Get in.¡±

    Rodrigo saw no sign of her butler. ¡°What about Stefan?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re parting ways with him here. He¡¯s going to go be with his wife and daughter.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just pick them up and take them all to the warehouse with us?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re in Connecticut. All I could do was give him access to my equipment and wish him luck. It was his choice. Now, can we get moving, or do you have more ignorant meddling to do?¡± She seemed unusually touchy about the subject, so Rodrigo dropped it.

    As soon as everyone was seated, Adena took off. The garage door closed automatically behind them. When they returned to the outside world, Rodrigo was relieved to see things actually looked calmer. Demons were still roaming the streets, hunting for victims, but it seemed by this point, most people had rounded up the sense to get indoors.

    ¡°None of you roll down your windows,¡± Adena said. ¡°This vehicle¡¯s not indestructible, but it¡¯s been heavily customized. Not much can stop it.¡±

    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re really into cars, aren¡¯t you?¡± Leila asked.

    ¡°I suppose.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s cool. My dad taught me how to drive when I was, like, thirteen, but I never had my own car. Hey, I know this might not be the best time, but I¡¯ve been wondering about something. Eckhart¡¯s a German name, right? But Adena¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no offense, Leila, but I¡¯m not in the mood for chitchat.¡±

    Rodrigo understood Leila was trying to keep herself, and anyone who would listen, distracted from the insanity of their predicament. Adena surely thought she was a ditz. Leila let her be and instead talked with Raquel and Carlito about the friends they were worried about. Raquel¡¯s would-be boyfriend, Jamie, seemed her second biggest concern after their family.

    With how fast Adena was driving, they reached the Manhattan Bridge¡¯s Chinatown entrance in twenty minutes. She had to maneuver around abandoned, wrecked cars and slammed into a couple of average-sized demons along the way. Still, they managed to make it without any major incidents. Only to find the road through the bridge¡¯s stone arch and colonnade, as well as the two roadways flanking it, jammed up with honking cars, bumper-to bumper.

    Rodrigo read somewhere that the set of sculptures built into either side of the colonnade, illuminated by the streetlights, were meant to be inspirational. The spirit of industry on the left and the spirit of commerce on the right, not that he would have guessed either on looks alone. Still, he found it ironic how the angelic figures, each surrounded by a pair of kneeling humans, were looking down upon the panicked passerby with stony indifference. Because if any higher powers actually existed, that must have been exactly what they were doing now.

    Adena gripped the steering wheel, resting her head against it in exasperation. ¡°I should have known better. All it takes is a few impatient idiots abandoning their vehicles, like the ones hopping across hoods right now, to bring traffic to a grinding halt.¡±

    ¡°We could try one of the other bridges,¡± Carlito suggested from the bench seat. Then, with less enthusiasm, added, ¡°Or maybe...the tunnel?¡±

    ¡°I glanced at the two bridges we passed on our drive here. Both see less use normally, yet mirrored this one tonight. And you¡¯re right to hesitate about Battery Tunnel. Bad as being stuck on a bridge is, trapped in a sea of vehicles in a nine-thousand-foot-long underwater tunnel would be worse.¡±

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    ¡°All this money and you didn¡¯t think to buy a helicopter or a boat?¡± Raquel asked rudely.

    ¡°No, because thousands of feet in the air or in the middle of the river isn¡¯t where I want to be when flying demons attack,¡± Adena said, her voice increasingly tight. She raised her head. ¡°Now, does anyone have any ideas I haven¡¯t already considered and discarded?¡±

    Rodrigo was staring out the passenger window to his right, where a crush of hundreds, if not thousands of people were streaming out of the narrow walkway, enclosed by a pair of chain-link fences. Some were weeping and others were screaming. Most seemed uninjured, yet shell-shocked, covered in a white chalky substance that was either dust or rubble, and were coughing their lungs out. Somehow, these more subdued reactions were more unnerving than the hysteria in and around the hotel. ¡°W-what if we walked? Maybe hot-wire a car on the other side.¡±

    Leila leaned forward in the seat behind him. ¡°Y¡¯know, hot-wiring a car isn¡¯t as easy in real life as pressing two exposed wires together, right? Modern ones actually have chipped keys to prevent it.¡±

    ¡°Why do you know that?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you?¡± Adena asked before Leila could answer. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, anyway. We¡¯d be walking against the crowd. It¡¯d take too long, if we weren¡¯t trampled first.¡±

    That¡¯s when Rodrigo realized even in the Brooklyn-bound traffic lane in front of them, the vast majority of people and cars were headed into the city. ¡°Wait a minute. Why are they all coming over here? Wouldn¡¯t it be worse on this side?¡±

    ¡°Not yet. The demons would have struck Brooklyn first before spreading out to go after the other boroughs. It¡¯ll be hit hard initially, but probably won¡¯t be focused on for more than a few days. That¡¯s why I set the warehouse up there.¡±

    Rodrigo knew Brooklyn had the larger residential population, but if the demons were trying to rack up the death toll, it¡¯d have made more sense to attack Manhattan during rush hour. Unless that wasn¡¯t an option. With the obvious exception of Resent, he hadn¡¯t seen any demons appear in daylight. ¡°Why¡¯d they start there? And why now? Are they afraid of the sun or something?¡±

    From the way Adena looked at him, as if he¡¯d said two plus two equals three, Rodrigo figured he was on the wrong track. ¡°Why would they fear our sun when theirs¡ª¡±

    Resent¡¯s soul pushed its way to the forefront. ¡°Are you fools content to sit here chattering on and on, awaiting your deaths?¡± As much as Rodrigo wanted to argue the prince¡¯s sudden seizure of control, he was right. They could analyze the demons¡¯ motives when they¡¯d reached their next haven.

    ¡°If you have a solution, I¡¯m open to it,¡± Adena said.

    ¡°Humans. You pride yourselves on your ingenuity, yet are all so limited without the aid of some technological nonsense or the other. I am not some lemming with the luxury to wait for a road to clear.¡± Resent lowered the window on his side, thrusting his right hand out with nebulae swirling at his fingertips. Rodrigo had a sickening premonition of the dark power surging forward like a wave to upend all the vehicles in their path. Instead, impossibly, a wide ramp began to form at the wheels of the SUV, arcing over the hood of the red Ford pickup truck in front of them and bridging into the sky. ¡°I am Hell¡¯s rightful king. I pave my own.¡±

    Adena drove forward, tentatively at first, seeming unsure whether the nebulae would bear the car¡¯s tons, then more confidently, as if on a normal open road. Resent kept pace with her, continuously extending the nebulae out in front of the car like he was rolling out a red carpet.

    People on the bridge below got out of their vehicles to point and gawk at the car soaring through the air. In the night, the platform materializing before their eyes must have been near-invisible at ground level. And though Rodrigo didn¡¯t expect any better from him, as Resent paid them little mind, already dissipating the ramp so no one could follow, in that moment, he likened the prince, and by association himself, to the angelic statues. A higher power, doing nothing but ignoring the helpless.

    Without having to compete with traffic, they had reached the other side of the bridge within a minute. Resent¡¯s Bob the Builder stunt must have been more draining than he let on, because he returned control the instant the SUV touched down in Flatbush Avenue, out of the sight of the long line of vehicles waiting at the bridge¡¯s less decorative Brooklyn entrance.

    There were more cop cars congregated on this side than Rodrigo had ever seen outside of the immediate vicinity of a police station. The NYPD officers were more heavily armed than some militaries, with high-powered rifles and bullet-proof vests overflowing with extra magazines of ammo. Their presence must have been why so many were able to make it onto the bridge. The wailing sirens and red and blue lights flashing through the night were reassuring in a way he never would have imagined until now.

    From there, it was a straightforward drive down the avenue, around Prospect Park¡¯s Grand Army Plaza, and onto Ocean Avenue. The farther they strayed from the bridge, the more they glimpsed the true devastation unfolding. Shattering any notions of the demons being interested in conquest, they weren¡¯t only attacking the few people left in the streets or forcing their way into homes. Some were ripping apart everything in their path from buildings to abandoned vehicles. Just wanton destruction.

    It took about thirty minutes to reach Jett¡¯s house on East 18<sup>th</sup> Street. Adena turned off the car¡¯s lights to blend into the darkness, but kept the motor running.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go,¡± Carlito said, pushing the door open.

    ¡°No. You and Raquel, wait here,¡± Rodrigo said as he left the car.

    From outside it looked relatively undisturbed, but he wasn¡¯t willing to risk running into those savages with Raquel and Carlito in tow. Alone, Rodrigo jogged up the steps of the porch and approached the door. He gave it a hard knock that made it creak open. The first thing that struck him was the reek permeating the air. An amalgam of over-cooked meat and sulfur, so acrid it overpowered the coppery odor he was now intimately familiar with. Around the living room were five dead hounds, the fur burned off their charred bodies. A horizontal, jagged scorch mark lined the walls, as if a whip of fire, or rather lightning, had been cracked against them. Jett was curled up in the corner with his head between his knees.

    ¡°Jett...what happened here?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    His cousin didn¡¯t so much as raise his head to glance in his direction.

    Rodrigo searched off to the side and saw a woman¡¯s slender hand, too dainty to be his mother¡¯s, peeking out from behind the torn sofa. He went stock-still as his chest tightened, not wanting to go any closer to confirm who the hand belonged to. But then, as if it might be the body of a stranger, some guest the Vegas had over before this all started, he stepped forward.

    ¡°No,¡± Rodrigo whispered as his knees buckled beneath him.

    His Aunt Emelina, laid in a pool of her own blood, mangled almost beyond recognition. Chunks of her beautiful auburn hair were missing from her scalp. Vicious bite marks riddled her body, where the hounds had chomped off pieces of flesh. Sniffling hard, fighting a losing battle to keep down the sobs, he reached out with trembling fingers to check for a pulse. He was already sure she was gone, but longing for a miracle, he did it anyway.

    There wasn¡¯t one.

 Chapter 23 - Devourer

    Having been kneeling beside his aunt¡¯s corpse, lost in grief and dark thought, Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure how long had passed by the time he managed to pull himself together enough to stand. It couldn¡¯t have been more than a few minutes or someone would have gotten out of the SUV to check on him. He went over to Jett, still sitting in the fetal position, and gently grabbed him by the shoulders to ask a question he wasn¡¯t certain he wanted answered. ¡°Where¡¯s my mom?¡±

    Finally, Jett looked up at him and Rodrigo flinched. On the right side of his face, from just under his eye to slightly above his chin, were four diagonal claw marks. They were deep, uneven, and caked over with blood that stained his jeans at the knees, where his face had been resting. His neat, slicked-back hair from yesterday was disheveled, falling in long frayed layers down into his eyes. His expression was blank, haunted by unfathomable loss as he shrugged. In a hoarse voice, he croaked, ¡°Gone. We...I haven¡¯t seen her since I got home.¡±

    Rodrigo exhaled in unexpected relief. If she¡¯d been in good enough health to leave on her own, hopefully she was someplace safer than here. ¡°I came with Adena and the others to take you somewhere safe. There¡¯s a black SUV parked outside, so get in and I¡¯ll be right out. I need to grab the kids¡¯ phones from upstairs.¡±

    Jett rose to his feet and stumbled to the steps. Glancing at Emelina¡¯s corpse, he took a steadying breath. ¡°Nah. I¡¯ll get them. You go ahead. I can¡¯t let Pa and Geo find her like this when...if they come back.¡±

    There was an emptiness in Jett¡¯s eyes, as if he might do something drastic, that made Rodrigo reluctant to leave him unsupervised. But trusting in the God-fearing part of his cousin, he nodded and left. He got back into the car, taking his seat up front beside Adena.

    ¡°What happened? Were they there?¡± Carlito asked.

    ¡°Mom wasn¡¯t,¡± Rodrigo said. ¡°Jett will be right out.¡±

    ¡°J-just him?¡± Raquel asked, her voice quaking as understanding dawned on her. ¡°Does that mean¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    After a tense five minutes, during which Rodrigo was so busy second-guessing himself about leaving an unhinged Jett alone, he was almost numb to the passing demons, his cousin finally came into the car. Jett was speechless and still didn¡¯t seem fully present, as he handed Raquel and Carlito their phones. Carlito was sobbing uncontrollably. Seeing the tears drip off his chin and onto his jacket as he tried to speak but could only wail, was actually painful. Raquel was crying, too, though less intensely. Leila was gazing out the window in silence as Adena drove.

    Emelina had been the mother Rodrigo wished he had. With all the hideous wounds she had received, an atrocity now seared into his brain, her death would have been nothing short of agonizing. And being the kind soul she was, her final thoughts were probably on the safety of her children. Did she ever learn how well Jett could defend himself, or did she die with the dreadful belief that her eldest would follow her? If he had trusted her to take his side and stayed in the house after his fight with Miriam instead of running like a coward, would it have made all the difference? Rodrigo slouched in his seat, covering his mouth with his fist to refrain from screaming.

    ¡°Quiet those blubbering brats at once!¡± Resent snapped.

    ¡°I know being an asshole is a hobby of yours, but this is not the time.¡±

    ¡°Everything dies, imbecile. Before my kind have had their fill, countless more humans shall join her. My interest lies in how the twig, a rank amateur, managed to annihilate those hounds. A feat that surely rattled the other lesser demons in the area, or we would have found him in worse shape than his mother. But that¡¯s a conversation for later. I need to distance myself from this racket before I strangle someone.¡± Resent took control. ¡°Stop the vehicle.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Adena asked.

    ¡°With fewer humans wandering about, demons are becoming less selective in their prey. I¡¯m going to make your job easier by standing up top and dealing with the ones that stray too close.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t fall off and inconvenience me instead.¡± Adena pushed a button over the rearview mirror. Within seconds, the tinted panoramic sunroof above their heads slid open. Without waiting for Adena to even slow down, Resent pulled himself through it and up onto the van¡¯s roof. Rodrigo expected him to rock back and forth, but his balance was solid.

    Resent stretched both hands out and in the fraction of a second, tiny orbs of darkness appeared on every fingertip, covering them up to the nail. He fired them, one at a time, at any demon bloodthirsty enough to try to impede the speeding car. The impact of each absurdly fast shot sent their target spinning backward, whether they were wearing armor or not.

    Staring ahead, Resent detected something in the distance Rodrigo¡¯s vision wasn¡¯t sharp enough to perceive. For a moment, he seemed perplexed. Then a giant pair of eyelids cracked open in the sky in front of them, revealing luminous yellow eyes. Resent yelled, ¡°Halt!¡±

    The tires screeched as Adena pulled to a violent stop half a block away from an immense, black toad covered in warts. Camouflaged in the night¡¯s dimness, the abomination flicked a slimy, puke green tongue out of its mouth that wrapped around the vehicle and began to pull them in.

    From the top of the car, Resent shrouded his fist in the nebulae and mercilessly pummeled the toad¡¯s tongue. If the blows caused any discomfort, the demon didn¡¯t show it and merely continued dragging the SUV forward. Its tongue had ensnared the vehicle, wrapping around the doors and windows so they couldn¡¯t be pried open. Inside the car, Adena mashed the button to re-open the wide sunroof, then stood on her seat and jumped out, landing in a roll.

    ¡°Do something!¡± Rodrigo yelled.

    Using an arm for each, Resent wrenched Raquel and Carlito out of their seat belts, and through the sunroof, tossing them away, careless of how they fell. Jett languidly climbed out of the car, as if exiting an unpleasant amusement park ride. It was halfway in the toad¡¯s mouth as Resent swept Leila up in his arms and sprang back toward the concrete.

    Once everyone was on their feet, they looked up in horrified awe at the enormous toad chewing on the remains of the car like it was bubblegum. About the size of a two-story house, this thing dwarfed the ogre. But more intimidating was its width. It took up the entire street, just barely leaving the sidewalk uncovered.

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    Even Adena seemed unnerved, though she swiftly recovered her poise. ¡°Between making a meal of my favorite vehicle and all the supplies in the back, you¡¯ve cost me a small fortune. In compensation, I¡¯ll be taking your life.¡±

    The toad stopped chewing and spat out a compact metal ball that smashed into the blinking neon sign of a movie theater. It leaned forward and squinted down at her, mystified for a few seconds before laughing hysterically in a shrill tone, startling them all. ¡°Did you believe yourself threatening, little human? Puh-lease, Sonneillon, Captain of Bittervale, is so far beyond you,¡± the demon said in a singsong voice.

    Resent crossed his right arm over his left and unleashed whirling nebulae that matched the toad in size. The demon was big enough that he wouldn¡¯t be pulled into the twister, but consequently, dodging it as it enclosed around him was impossible. So Sonneillon opened his mouth and, with a sound of rushing wind, inhaled the twister, breaking the eddying nebulae down to their base mist-like structure as he did so.

    ¡°W-what just happened?¡± Raquel asked.

    Sonneillon¡¯s body bloated all the way up to his bulbous chin.

    ¡°Hit the sidewalk!¡± Adena ordered, already in motion.

    The demon spewed Resent¡¯s nebulae back at them in the form of a gigantic, gaseous blast. The mass of dark energy narrowly missed them as it tore down the middle of the street, forming a fissure in the concrete and obliterating a small building in its path. A shock wave shoved all except Resent to the ground as debris and white dust swirled around them, sending everyone into coughing fits.

    Sonneillon licked his thin lips in a slow, exaggerated manner. ¡°Yes, the former prince¡¯s nebulae undoubtedly have a unique flavor.¡±

    ¡°You know who I am and yet you still challenge me?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°Were you in your prime, I surely would have leapt away. However, in your gelded state, you are no more menacing than the humans you crawl with.¡±

    ¡°Is that so? Then why not try me?¡±

    ¡°Certainly. But first, permit me an appetizer.¡± Sonneillon reached behind him with his tongue. Even Resent seemed at a loss as the toad held a closed dumpster suspended in the air. When the groans and sobs were heard coming from inside the container, everyone understood. If Rodrigo had been in control, he would¡¯ve tried to prevent it, but there was no time. All at once, Sonneillon flipped the dumpster upside down, pouring people too battered and broken to even muster a scream into his mouth, then tossed the empty receptacle aside. He retracted his tongue and gnawed on the humans with his rows of teeth that allowed him to chomp through steel.

    ¡°This m-monster...¡± Raquel¡¯s voice died in her throat at the sound of crunching bones.

    Resent was unimpressed. ¡°Are you quite finished with the theatrics?¡±

    Sonneillon whipped his blood-soaked tongue out to entangle him.

    Three blasts of blue electricity slammed into the tongue, stopping it short and making the demon give a guttural cry of pain. The toad hastily reeled his singed tongue back into his mouth.

    Resent glanced over his shoulder.

    Leila stood a few paces behind him with her sleek new semi-automatic shotgun raised. ¡°We¡¯re not going to just sit around and let you eat us!¡±

    ¡°That actually stung, you nasty little bitch!¡± Sonneillon yelled, all levity gone as his voice dropped several octaves. ¡°I shall devour you while you remain of sound enough mind to fully comprehend your agony!¡±

    ¡°Maybe the tongue¡¯s his weak spot,¡± Rodrigo suggested.

    ¡°Doubtful. When I struck it before, I failed to do any damage. This was barely an attack, yet the fool¡¯s gone apoplectic. It¡¯s the electricity he fears.¡±

    Adena exchanged a look with Resent and nodded, apparently coming to a similar conclusion. To keep their true intention hidden, she said, ¡°Resent, Jett, if we attack together, it¡¯ll go down.¡±

    Resent looked at Jett, still sitting on the pavement, his eyes glazed over and downcast. ¡°Twig, are you ready?¡±

    Jett said nothing.

    ¡°Let me talk to him,¡± Rodrigo said. Resent grumbled, but returned control. ¡°Jett, we need your help.¡±

    ¡°Why bother? What¡¯s the point? Survival? Is it even worth all this trouble?¡±

    Rodrigo blinked. ¡°Look, man, I get that what happened to Emelina has you in a dark place, and you know how much I loved her. I¡¯m so sorry. I should have gotten there sooner. And maybe I could have if I hadn¡¯t gotten sidetracked. I don¡¯t know if that would¡¯ve been enough to...¡± His voice cracked, and he had to suck in a breath. ¡°Enough to save her, but you can¡¯t give up. Do you seriously think she¡¯d want that?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about Ma. That was just the wake-up call. If we make it through this fight, all we¡¯ll be doing is fighting again and again until we die. Why struggle so hard...to live a little longer in a world like this?¡±

    Rodrigo was shuffling through his mind for something, anything, he could say to bring Jett back from the brink, when he picked up the sound of a stampede in the distance.

    Sonneillon, who had been mesmerized by Jett¡¯s anguish as if watching a Broadway play, snapped out of his trance, his jolly attitude renewed. ¡°You little humans are just precious. I especially adore how you persist in histrionics while your lives hang in the balance. Such a shame. If I am to consume you all before my voracious soldiers return, this performance must come to a premature end.¡±

    Rodrigo looked around at the others. Raquel had her pistol aimed at the demon, but her whole body was trembling. Adena and Leila were peering behind them, trying to spot the incoming soldiers. Carlito was...sprawled out on the ground.

    ¡°Carlito?¡± Rodrigo called.

    ¡°We need to go, now!¡± Adena yelled, eyeing a manhole.

    Rodrigo tuned her out, sprinting toward his brother as Sonneillon¡¯s tongue darted out and split into three. Two tongues were coming after him and the other was reaching out for the unconscious Carlito. The rest of the group was too distracted to help in time, and the tongues were approaching faster than he could run. Rodrigo slammed the nebulae into the ground to give himself a better vantage point, then quickly converted them into chains that extended to the inside of the toad¡¯s open mouth. Carlito was being drawn toward Sonneillon like a fly, when Rodrigo¡¯s nebulae crushed the base of the tongue, rupturing it. The demon squealed as his oily tongue drooped out of his mouth and crashed to the asphalt.

    Rodrigo could feel his blood hammering in his forehead as he landed and growled, ¡°Don¡¯t you dare.¡±

    ¡°Finish him!¡± Resent yelled.

    To say he wanted to kill the toad would be an understatement. If Sonneillon¡¯s tongue regenerated anywhere near the speed of Rodrigo¡¯s body, he would be back to gorging himself on humans shortly after they made their escape. Demons killing for sport was infuriating enough, but this one was taking things further by eating people alive. However, his backup would be on Rodrigo in seconds. Besides, past the red mist and his racing thoughts, he was vaguely aware of the others calling for him. He yanked Carlito free of the severed tongue that had coiled around him and threw him over his shoulder.

    Adena had burned around the edges of the manhole cover with surgical precision, letting it plunge into the sewer tunnel below, and everyone was scurrying down a ladder. Rodrigo jumped in last, just seeing the horde of advancing demons, dozens of which were in flight, making for far more than he would have guessed. Once the group was all there, Adena set fire to the entrance behind them and took off running at top speed, lighting the way with a bright orange flame in her hand. The splashing of their shoes echoed through the tunnel.

 Chapter 24 - Sanctuary

    After a few minutes of fleeing through the sewer tunnels from Sonneillon¡¯s approaching reinforcements, Adena came to a stop. ¡°Let¡¯s take a break.¡±

    With Carlito weighing him down, Rodrigo had been gradually falling behind the others. ¡°It¡¯s not me, is it? If I tag Resent in, he should be able to carry him easily.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°I just wanted to put some space between us and them as a precaution. They probably sensed us, but with their captain¡¯s tongue ripped out, I don¡¯t see them putting in an immediate effort to push through the flames and pursue us.¡±

    Now that there was a moment to breathe, Rodrigo started to worry. His brother hadn¡¯t woken up through all the movement and commotion. A terrifying thought crossed his mind as he carefully placed him against the damp brick wall. He unbuttoned Carlito¡¯s jacket and put an ear to his chest. Rodrigo exhaled when he heard a steady heartbeat.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡± Raquel asked, teary-eyed.

    ¡°No idea, but at least he¡¯s alive. Adena, can you bring the fire closer?¡±

    She did, and Rodrigo looked Carlito over for injuries. Other than a few minor scrapes, he couldn¡¯t find anything.

    ¡°Maybe it was the shock wave,¡± Adena said. ¡°It even knocked me off balance. Carlito likely hit his head on the ground hard enough to pass out. Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s not a concussion.¡±

    ¡°Oh my god, can we please just get out of this hellhole?¡± Leila begged, sounding more panicked now than in front of Sonneillon. ¡°When we were running, I nearly tripped over a chihuahua-sized rat because it¡¯s pitch-black down here.¡± She was right. Besides the flame in Adena¡¯s hand, they were practically in total darkness.

    ¡°You could always use the flashlights on your phones if they still have any power,¡± Adena said. ¡°Or maybe Jett could help out some, unlike he did in that fight.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just not seeing the point. I mean, what¡¯s the upside of living in a world where so many demons are running wild that even with powers, we¡¯re helpless to stop them? Why even put ourselves through that?¡±

    Something in Adena seemed to snap, because she backhanded Jett, on the unwounded side of his face, with such force that he lost his footing and landed in a puddle of dirty water.

    ¡°She¡¯s growing on me,¡± Resent said.

    Though Raquel and Leila gasped almost in sync, Rodrigo couldn¡¯t blame Adena. Jett¡¯s words were discouraging, and their morale was already low enough. Even worse was that these weren¡¯t the ravings of a madman or someone with a history of depression, but questions from one of the more optimistic people Rodrigo knew.

    ¡°You know what, Jett?¡± Adena asked. ¡°If you want to die so badly, I¡¯m not about to try to convince you otherwise. In fact, I¡¯ll even give you a hand if you¡¯re too soft to do yourself in. But if Sonneillon hadn¡¯t been amused by your little meltdown out there, it could¡¯ve gotten all of us, including your cousins, killed. In other words, get a goddamned grip, or we go our separate ways as soon as we make it outside.¡±

    Rodrigo was about to intervene when Jett laughed dryly. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s that easy for you, huh? You¡¯d just brush off seeing your ma torn apart and keep pushing your way through this literal Hell on earth? Are you even human?¡±

    She grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and drew him in so their faces were a foot apart. ¡°Of course I am. I simply haven¡¯t been sheltered like you. Demons are responsible for the death of my entire family, so I know the despair you¡¯re feeling quite well. Thing is, you still have people depending on you. Unless you want to increase the odds of them dying alongside you, then you don¡¯t have a choice other than to push it down somewhere deep and dark, and keep moving.¡±

    With that, she released him and walked away.

    Jett sat there for a few seconds while the two other girls traded concerned looks. As their source of light got farther and farther away, Rodrigo was thinking Jett had truly given up, but then he rose with a resigned sigh. ¡°Nobody get too close to me.¡±

    When everyone was a decent distance away from him, green sparks flickered at his feet before rising to encompass the rest of his body. Immediately, the tunnel was illuminated, showcasing the decayed brick and the graffiti that covered it. Seeing Jett¡¯s transformation for the first time, Leila was visibly uneasy.

    ¡°Dude, as much as I appreciate you being a human flashlight, is it safe to be using your ability in a wet place like this?¡± Rodrigo asked as he picked Carlito up again.

    ¡°It¡¯s all right. Turns out I¡¯m like an electric eel or something. Nearly stroked out when I lit up in the shower, but somehow I didn¡¯t electrocute myself,¡± Jett said in that distorted voice of his. ¡°You guys should go ahead of me, though. I might electrify a puddle by accident.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°That¡¯s pretty cool. I¡¯m Leila, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. Glad to see at least one of Ruy¡¯s new friends isn¡¯t a sociopath.¡± But then Jett did a double take, and his stare narrowed, which under the crackling electricity looked outright hostile. ¡°Wait. Leila from grade school?¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah. Why? Did I do something to you, too?¡± Leila asked defensively.

    ¡°Not me, no.¡±

    Rodrigo cleared his throat, wanting to stop this discussion in its tracks. He was rather stoic as an eleven-year-old, or that¡¯s how he remembered himself, anyway. When Leila ghosted him, though, he had whined something awful for months, to anyone who would listen. That was primarily Jett, and clearly, it had left a lasting impression.

    As they continued along the cramped walkways, one thing that puzzled Rodrigo about the sewer was its smell. The scent wasn¡¯t exactly pleasant, but it was nowhere near as bad as he was expecting. He had been in public restrooms with more of an odor.

    Adena was waiting by a ladder. ¡°Resent should handle this one. Best not to destroy the covers if we don¡¯t have to.¡±

    Resent took over, climbed the ladder while still carrying Carlito and lifted the manhole cover one-handed.

    When they all reached the surface, the Manhattan Bridge visible in the near distance, they were surprised to not see a single demon nearby. Adena led them to a ramshackle warehouse on the same block with huge steel doors and windows that were blacked out like the ones from her mansion. There was a chain-link fence on the rooftop, but nothing at ground level.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t the fence be around the actual building?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°A normal fence wouldn¡¯t stop even the weakest of demons. Plus, we don¡¯t want it to look like an attractive shelter to other people. There are defenses in place here similar to the ones back at my house, but in larger quantities.¡± Adena fished into the pocket of her cargo pants and pulled out some sort of ID card. She inserted it into a slot on the wall that Rodrigo wouldn¡¯t have seen if he hadn¡¯t just watched her use it. That prompted a small, pale blue screen to appear next to it, which she slipped off her glove and placed her index finger on.

    The screen turned green and the doors parted. Inside was a fully furnished home with exposed brick walls. The high ceiling and rooms that led into one another seamlessly gave it an airy feel. Behind them, the doors shut automatically, as quickly as they had opened. Beside the door, was another fade periapt, dangling from a screw drilled into the mortar between the bricks.

    ¡°Where can I put Carlito?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    Adena hung her leather jacket on a standing coat rack by the entrance and moved toward one of two staircases with a steel and glass railing. ¡°It¡¯s best if we assign rooms now, since most of you look like you¡¯re about to drop.¡±

    They followed her up the steps to the open hallway on the second floor, which wrapped around the first level, overlooking the living room below. The hallway had two doors to either side of each staircase, one door in between them, and a ladder that led up across from it. Beside each door were card slots much more noticeable than the one outside.

    ¡°The rooms are all more or less identical. Each one has a bunk bed, a computer, and a private bathroom. They haven¡¯t been set up to lock yet. I¡¯ll be issuing unique key cards to all of you later, which will also be the only way in or out of the building,¡± Adena said.

    ¡°What about the windows?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°They open, but unless it¡¯s an emergency, don¡¯t. They¡¯re bullet-proof glass framed by nethntine. A strong enough demon could still shatter them, but it would probably take long enough that we¡¯d have time to react.¡±

    Jett opened the closest door to his left and disappeared inside without a word. Rodrigo wished he could have brought himself to regurgitate an uplifting platitude, like ¡°she¡¯s in a better place¡± to ease his cousin¡¯s pain, but to say that with any real certainty struck him as hypocritical. Sure, earth wasn¡¯t a great place to be right now, though at least as long as you survived on it, there was a chance, no matter how small, that eventually you would be able to fight back. All he could do was be there for him whenever he felt like talking and keep getting stronger to reduce the risk of losing anyone else.

    Raquel looked at Leila and asked, ¡°Roomies?¡±

    The older girl seemed taken aback, but nodded. Though the fourth empty room meant they could each have had their own, neither one came across as wanting to be alone.

    Rodrigo went for the door in between the two staircases, only to find it locked.

    ¡°That one¡¯s mine,¡± Adena said. Of course. She would take the most strategic location.

    Raquel and Leila took the room by the right, so he settled for the one next to theirs. The room was fairly bare, but it was about as big as a studio apartment. Rodrigo removed Carlito¡¯s jacket and boots before placing him on the bottom bunk of the bed. He patted around his head in case all that curly hair was hiding a bump or a cut, but again, there was nothing. Rodrigo considered going to sleep himself, but he was still too on edge.

    Instead, he put his coat and bag on the top bunk, then went back into the hallway. Adena had gone downstairs to watch the news on a large flat screen television mounted on the exposed brick.

    ¡°People are dying at such a rate that the number of casualties are incalculable, and so far there seems to be no end in sight to this tragedy,¡± a fidgety anchorwoman said. The redhead couldn¡¯t have been older than her mid-to-late twenties. It made Rodrigo wonder whether the veteran anchors had all cut and run or been killed off on their way to the newsroom. ¡°Worldwide, a state of emergency has been declared. Authorities urge everyone to stay indoors, keep lights off, and stay as quiet as possible to avoid the attention of the creatures some are referring to as demons. This is Caity Wright, reporting for CNN on the ninth hour of this unprecedented catastrophe. May God keep us sane.¡±

 Chapter 25 â€“ Know Thy Enemy

    ¡°It¡¯s been nine hours?¡± Rodrigo asked, taking a seat on the red velvet couch in front of the TV. He wasn¡¯t sure when exactly the invasion had started, since the time was low on his list of concerns while in the midst of the mayhem. But he remembered not leaving the mall¡¯s food court until slightly past 8:00 pm. That was a few hours before he saw the imps on the hotel¡¯s roof, and now it was almost 5:00 am.

    Adena was stretched out on a nearby recliner, sinking into the plush material. ¡°Probably nine hours since the first reported demon sighting. There¡¯s no reason to assume they appeared everywhere simultaneously.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the President doing? Laying low in a bunker somewhere?¡±

    ¡°By now, he¡¯s almost certainly dead. Misery sent the bulk of his forces to take out the government and military branches. The Pentagon¡¯s been obliterated. Most air force and naval bases were destroyed within the first few hours, too. As far as I know, there¡¯s no contingency plan for something of this magnitude, and with all the deaths, the chain of command is probably in such flux there¡¯s no time to develop a solid defense strategy. And if that¡¯s the state one of the strongest militaries in the world is in, you can imagine the rest.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s head was spinning. Distantly, he wondered whether countries with smaller populations, especially islands like the Dominican Republic where his cousin and uncle were, would be less likely to draw attention or be completely steamrolled. ¡°Hold up. I get the Pentagon¡¯s a no-brainer as a target, but doesn¡¯t the U.S. have thousands of bases hidden around the world? And those are just the ones they admit to. How could the demons discover and take out even half of those so quickly?¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have to think too hard about their method. You¡¯re living proof.¡±

    It took Rodrigo a few seconds, but then his eyes widened. ¡°Possession?¡±

    Adena nodded. ¡°A single highly capable demon could possess the commander-in-chief of every country Misery deemed a threat, rip the locations of bases and other vital information from the deepest recesses of their host¡¯s memories, then leave without a trace.¡±

    ¡°And that is, perhaps, the greatest failing of your species. By putting all your faith in such a meager percentage of your populace, the majority has been rendered helpless. Misery¡¯s trounced you humans royally.¡± There was a sense of pride in Resent¡¯s voice that Rodrigo was tempted to comment on, but he let it be. If things had turned out differently, the prince could have been the one leading the assault on humanity.

    Live footage of the chaos, captured by some brave cameramen in circling helicopters, was playing on screen, when Rodrigo asked, ¡°Is there somewhere I can practice around here?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Come on.¡± She rose, walking with Rodrigo trailing behind her. Adena stopped in front of a metallic door, which, like all doors in this building, needed to be unlocked with a key card. She inserted hers and it revealed a room half the size of a high school gymnasium. The equipment inside wasn¡¯t simply weights and exercise machines, but practice dummies, complex target ranges, and various other equipment to train for combat with. Much like her armory in the mansion, the far wall was lined with a vast selection of weapons.

    Rodrigo was spacing out, thinking about how to best utilize his time, when Adena came to him, sword in hand. He quickly reached for his hilt.

    Adena¡¯s lips quirked slightly. ¡°Calm down. I wasn¡¯t going to attack you right off the bat...though, I liked that reaction.¡±

    ¡°So, are you gonna teach me something this time or am I just getting wrecked again? Either way, I need a lighter sword.¡±

    ¡°No, what you have will do for now.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°What do you mean? You¡¯re the one who pointed out how slow I was with it.¡±

    ¡°And you are, but if you keep using it, you¡¯ll gradually adapt to its weight. Then when you¡¯ve improved to the point where it¡¯s barely a strain on you, the transition to a normal sword will be more beneficial.¡±

    Rodrigo followed Adena to an open area where she rolled up the sleeves of her burgundy turtleneck and took a stance. At least this time she had the decency to wait for him to draw his sword and prepare himself before laying into him.

    They practiced for about an hour, with several brief breaks in-between. Even if the soreness of his arm and injuries disappeared within minutes, he was still feeling burned-out. Adena looked tired herself. Throughout, Resent had given him tips disguised as insults like, ¡°Stop being so damn rigid. If the woman intended to kill you, you¡¯d be dead many times over,¡± and ¡°Why are you squirming around so much? It only serves to squander energy and throw off your balance. Or are you a masochist?¡±

    Rodrigo hadn¡¯t responded since acknowledging or thanking the demon might have scared away his helpful side.

    ¡°Am I getting any better?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Little by little,¡± Adena said. ¡°I could still kill you in ten seconds and I wouldn¡¯t recommend challenging a demon with a sword, but yes, there¡¯s progress.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡±

    ¡°About your progress or being able to kill you in less than ten seconds? Because you still haven¡¯t landed a hit on me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying I could beat you, just no way it¡¯d be that fast.¡±

    A surprisingly smug smile spread across Adena¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯ll make you a deal. If you can last more than ten seconds against me, I¡¯ll give you a million dollars.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡± Rodrigo asked, his voice rising in pitch. But after the allure of potentially becoming a millionaire wore off, he said, ¡°Then again, money¡¯s not much more than a novelty with the way things are now.¡±

    ¡°Fair point.¡± Adena reached under her shirt and pulled out the fade periapt she had removed from the mansion¡¯s entryway before they left. ¡°Make it ten seconds and I¡¯ll give you this. Lose in nine or less and you¡¯ll know how desperately you need further training.¡±

    Now that was a prize worth fighting for. If he gave it to Raquel or Carlito, they¡¯d actually be able to hide from the demons. Rodrigo nodded and drew his sword.

    ¡°Starting...now.¡± Adena closed in on him rapidly, slashing at his lower body. Years of dormant muscle memory was beginning to kick in, Rodrigo¡¯s footwork quickening and the blade moving more smoothly in his hand. Still, unable to match her speed, he took a different approach than he would have if the goal was to hold out longer. Instead of hurrying to block the light cuts, he dodged what he could and endured what he couldn¡¯t. He was entirely focused on guarding his vitals.

    Realizing what he was doing, she backed off. Those azure eyes of hers looked him over for a second before she moved in again with a thrust of her sword. Rodrigo caught her attack with one of the downward spikes on his blade and was trying to yank her weapon from her hand when his feet were swept from under him. He lost his grip on his sword and hit the ground hard.

    Adena straddled him, her knees pinning his arms to the polished floor at his sides, as she pressed the edge of her blade against his throat. She couldn¡¯t have been more than a year or two older than him, yet she was superior in practically every way. Was she what he could have been like if he¡¯d been allowed to continue fencing? How many hours had he idled away playing video games, or watching TV shows he could hardly remember the details of, while this girl was molding herself into something so dangerous even demons feared her?

    ¡°That was bull,¡± Rodrigo spat, wrenching the blade out of her hand with the nebulae and flinging it across the room. ¡°You didn¡¯t say we could use anything besides our swords.¡±

    Adena¡¯s eyes narrowed as she shoved off his chest and rose, giving him that look she was so fond of, like what had just been uttered was idiotic to the point of being offensive. ¡°It was the least painful way to take you down. Your strategy, if you can even call it that with a straight face, was garbage and would¡¯ve gotten your legs chopped off in a real sword fight. Doesn¡¯t matter. Sparring¡¯s one thing, but how many demons do you picture fighting fair?¡±

    ¡°I guess she¡¯s got a point. How many seconds was that?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Eight. Utterly abysmal. If nothing else, at least you¡¯re increasing your tolerance for punishment.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I need a break,¡± Rodrigo groaned, biting back his frustration as he got to his feet. ¡°Breakfast?¡±

    Adena took him to the kitchen and let him rummage through the fully stocked cabinets as she brewed herself a pot of coffee. Now, seated at the cherry wood dining table, Rodrigo nibbled on a frosted blueberry pop-tart as he studied Adena. Sitting at the head of the table, across from him, her head was lolling back and under her thick eyeshadow, bags were starting to show. If they were safe here, at least relatively, why was she so opposed to the idea of sleep?

    As she took her first sip of black coffee, her attention snapped onto him. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°How long¡¯s it been since you slept?¡±

    ¡°Longer than you.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was a competition. Maybe I should drink coffee to keep up.¡± Rodrigo gave her a slight smile, but Adena sat there stone-faced, so he wiped it away. Though he could understand being uninterested in small talk, barring his mother, she had to be the hardest person to converse with he¡¯d ever met. And that included Resent, in his boundless arrogance.

    ¡°What do you think of Jett?¡± Adena asked suddenly.

    Despite the vagueness of her question, Rodrigo didn¡¯t need to think too deeply about her meaning. ¡°He¡¯s grieving. Doesn¡¯t help that he hasn¡¯t been in the best state of mind recently. Neither of us could figure out how he got his ability in the first place. It kicked in when he was getting jumped by...oh, right. You were there, weren¡¯t you?¡± Remembering her hesitation when Jett asked if his attackers were dead and seeing the charred corpses of the hounds, he asked, ¡°He killed them, didn¡¯t he?¡±

    Adena straightened in her chair. ¡°Not quite. But I undersold their injuries. Last I checked, all four were comatose. I made it seem like a downed power line was responsible, so if they do wake up and happen to remember, their stories about a boy slinging lighting should fall on deaf ears. I don¡¯t think I need to tell you, but considering his mental state, keep all this to yourself.¡±

    Rodrigo touched the tips of his thumb and index finger, sliding them across his mouth. He didn¡¯t like keeping his cousin in the dark on a matter that personally concerned him, but Jett didn¡¯t need this additional burden right now. ¡°I doubt investigating a freak accident is going to be a priority anytime soon, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Adena relaxed in her seat, seeming relieved he wasn¡¯t arguing. ¡°As for how he got his Flair, if it had happened after you met Resent, I might think it was arranged by an ally of his. But since Jett came first, I don¡¯t think there was any significant reason he was chosen. It could have been years ago, or even when he was a baby, and just activated the first time he¡¯d ever truly feared for his life. I¡¯m assuming Resent hasn¡¯t explained the process to you due to it being an embarrassment for his kind. Truth is, any human can get abilities like ours.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so where do these abilities come from? Demons?¡±

    ¡°Of course. They¡¯ve been sent to earth to examine our ways and assess our potential as a threat long before Misery was in charge. Typically, it¡¯s demons capable of possession or diavoliks, who can blend in if they hide their eyes and don¡¯t stay in one place long enough for their decelerated aging to be noticed. Being nearly immortal, after living for centuries with violence as a constant companion, some demons grew to enjoy the human lifestyle and when they returned to Hell, found they missed the comparative peace humanity took for granted. They knew if they tried to stay on earth unsanctioned, the high lords would have them destroyed. So, the majority obeyed their superiors.¡±

    ¡°Wait, high lords? I can imagine, but who are they exactly?¡±

    Adena almost choked on the coffee she was in the middle of swallowing. ¡°He hasn¡¯t even told you that much?¡±

    Rodrigo shook his head. ¡°He gets a kick out of keeping secrets behind more paywalls than a free-to-play game.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, fine. Basically, each one is an extremely powerful demon in command of one of the five great cities surrounding the capital. Together they form the council that convenes to decide on matters that impact all of Hell. The only one they answer to is the current ruler. Can I get back to the story now?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°While most demons remained in Hell, even if they were unsatisfied, the more rebellious ones refused to abandon their new lives. This led to them being hunted down without mercy. The few demons that survived spent their lives on the run, getting those that associated too closely with them killed, and finding it impossible to put down roots. Eventually, they decided that before they were inevitably destroyed, the best revenge would be to bestow their power upon humans.¡±

    ¡°So, who were the people that got their powers?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, they¡¯re mostly random. Same as with possession, the only real factor is age. Since it¡¯s almost a way for their spirit to live on, unless the demon chooses someone they became close with over the course of their life, they¡¯ll aim for someone young. Fittingly, this bestowal also offers a degree of protection against possession.¡± Adena hesitated. ¡°My father was seventeen when his Flair activated and his house became an inferno. Unlike us, he didn¡¯t have the benefit of someone more experienced to guide him, and so, I never had the opportunity to meet my grandparents.¡±

    Good God. Whenever Adena did speak at length, it was always something so grim and heavy. Rodrigo was pondering what he could say to ease the tension when there was a knock at the front door. It was so light and non-threatening that the wrongness of it didn¡¯t immediately register. His ludicrous notion that Adena¡¯s butler, Stefan, had brought his family to the warehouse was squashed as she checked her phone and somehow grew even paler.

    Inhaling sharply, Adena slid the phone across the table to him. Seeing her so spooked made Rodrigo¡¯s heart thunder in his chest. He didn¡¯t even want to look at the screen, imagining the footage from the hidden security cameras would show Sonneillon, tongue regrown, waiting out there with his army to storm the building.

    When he worked up the nerve to glance at the phone, he was underwhelmed. Two pale-skinned diavoliks, dressed from head to toe in lightweight armor, were on the other side of the steel doors. Though the armor they wore was nearly identical and riddled with red spikes, one was a glaring gold while the other was a muted silver. Unlike other diavoliks Rodrigo had seen, these two ditched sleeves and gauntlets for vambraces on their forearms. Continuing that bold trend, were horned helmets that openly displayed their faces.

    ¡°Do you know them?¡± Rodrigo whispered, in case either demons¡¯ hearing was keen enough to hear through walls. The pair had made it past all the protection Adena put on the place, so it was obvious they were abnormal.

    ¡°Only by word of mouth. The smaller one in gold is Verin. The one in silver, built like he¡¯s on steroids, is Xanthos. They¡¯re conquerors of Hell¡¯s arenas, and I rather not fight them.¡±

    Resent took over before Rodrigo could get another word out. ¡°Enough! At last, I¡¯m unencumbered by brats and the weak. I have no intention of fleeing because these flamboyant dolts won a few tourneys.¡±

    There was a bang on the door, much louder than the first, and Rodrigo was starting to think they might break it down.

    Adena cocked her head at Resent. ¡°Did I say anything about running? No. I¡¯m going to tell you precisely how we¡¯ll kill them.¡±

    A moment later, after Resent had climbed the ladder to the roof, Rodrigo heard the hatch snap shut behind them. The sound seemed deafening, but the argument taking place below, just outside the warehouse doors, had drowned it out.

    ¡°Admit it, little brother. You were wrong,¡± Xanthos said in a gruff voice, his beefy arms crossed. He had stepped back from the building and appeared eager to leave. ¡°If anyone was here, we would have heard their panic by now. Just be ready to part with that precious spear of yours upon returning home.¡±

    Verin had his ear pressed to the steel door. ¡°There has to be something. You saw how the fodder were skirting this area.¡±

    ¡°Yes, because our inferiors have wisely decided not to waste their time here. Stall if you must, but I sense no signs of life inside, and shall hold you to our wager.¡±

    Verin¡¯s gaze snapped up, and Rodrigo knew his silent prayer that the duo would go away had fallen on deaf ears. ¡°And your perception has long been lacking, Xanthos. There is a human lurking atop this very building.¡±

    ¡°Hey, here¡¯s another idea,¡± Rodrigo said. ¡°How about we try to squeeze them for information? I mean, if they don¡¯t recognize you right away, then¡ª¡±

    In a gravity defying stunt, Verin ran up the wall of the warehouse and hopped over the ten-foot-high chain-link fence in an instant. He examined Resent through orange eyes, ringed by what was either some kind of war paint or human blood. ¡°Now that I am closer, there is demon in you as well. Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Captain Boladach, hailing from the great city of Erodis,¡± Resent said, performing some sort of sorcery on Rodrigo¡¯s vocal cords to speak with booming authority. ¡°I suggest you address me with more respect, whelp. My inhabiting this human vessel does not make me incapable of sending you to an early urn.¡±

    Verin¡¯s eyebrows shot up, then he sketched a slight bow. Turning away, he said, ¡°Apologies, sir. My brother and I shall be on our way.¡±

    ¡°Not yet. I have some que¡ª¡±

    Resent¡¯s canine teeth nearly bit through his tongue as a flying knee to his jaw was unleashed so fast he couldn¡¯t defend himself. It wasn¡¯t enough to knock him off his feet, but the impact forced him backward and the small spikes on Verin¡¯s greave left a nasty wound.

    ¡°A convincing act. You were even cautious enough to choose the smallest of the great cities to be a denizen of. Unfortunately, the energy I sense from you tells a different tale. Now, once more, who are you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re about to learn.¡± Resent lunged with an uppercut at a grinning Verin, who raised his arm to block. A split-second before his knuckles connected with the golden demon¡¯s jagged vambrace, the nebulae enveloped Resent¡¯s fist and ruptured the metal. Verin¡¯s eyes widened as Resent¡¯s punch broke his arm and sent him flying. He gained control of his course in midair, jumping onto the top of the fence, and perching himself there, like a vulture sizing up its prey.

    ¡°Ah, I suppose the strangeness you radiate makes some sense now. I have to admit, that was fairly impressive. Show me what else you can do, Prince Resent,¡± Verin goaded as he backflipped and landed on the sidewalk below gracefully.

    Taking the bait, as Rodrigo knew he would, Resent rushed up the fence and dove toward the pair of demons, damning Adena¡¯s plan with his descent.

 Chapter 26 â€“ The Deathblow

    As Adena saw Resent burst into the video feed on her phone from the warehouse¡¯s front security camera, she took a long breath. Why was it that the Prince of Hell, north of four centuries old, couldn¡¯t follow a strategy as elementary as divide and conquer? Much like Resent, Xanthos and Verin reveled in hand-to-hand combat, but unlike him, they excelled at teamwork, having had all their lives to discover how to best cover each other¡¯s weaknesses. Granted, from what she¡¯d heard of the prince, in his prime, he would have made short work of them both. But that was in the body of a full-grown diavolik, not a scrawny, callow sixteen-year-old.

    To be fair, Rodrigo was learning as fast as could be expected of someone uninitiated to the supernatural as of a few days ago. Faster, really. He was improving at such a rate that she had to humble him in their latest sparring session to keep him from getting a swelled head, and hopefully curb his growing dependence on Resent¡¯s regeneration. She had slightly regretted it later, when she found him staring at her through his long lashes with genuine concern during breakfast. It wasn¡¯t a look she was accustomed to getting from anyone other than Stefan. Expressions she was most used to eliciting included shock, rage, and unadulterated terror. The last of which, on the faces of those who didn¡¯t truly deserve it, had plagued her dreams for years.

    Even with Adena¡¯s second cup of coffee, exhaustion was nagging at every inch of her after thirty-seven hours of sleeplessness. One at a time, she risked rubbing each heavy eyelid with a finger trembling from over-caffeination, never fully taking her gaze off the chaotic melee playing out on her phone¡¯s screen. For being outnumbered, Resent was doing remarkably well. While not as agile as Verin, who was a blur of kicks, even with his right arm hanging loosely at his side, or as hard-hitting as Xanthos, the prince made up for it with defensive use of his nebulae and technique. Technique, her research showed, Resent had honed from a young age through training with one of Hell¡¯s best martial artists, the High Lord of Erodis.

    Adena had almost convinced herself that she could stay out of the fight and conserve her dwindling energy, when Xanthos drove his fist into Resent¡¯s gut with such incredible power that he was catapulted out of the camera¡¯s view. Immediately, she closed the video and pressed a button on her phone to raise the garage door in front of her. Unruly as he was, Resent was her greatest asset and therefore a necessary evil. At least until he¡¯d served his purpose.

    #

    Xanthos¡¯ punch sent Resent spiraling into the side of a parked car, the impact busting a few of the windows as it swayed. At this point, Rodrigo half-believed Adena was leaving him and Resent to fend for themselves as punishment for botching her plan. Since she admitted she wouldn¡¯t be of much use in close combat against these two, the idea had been for Resent to lure one of them onto the roof and keep him there. In the meantime, she would have flanked the other one from the garage that opened at the back of the warehouse and incinerated him in a single blast, turning this into a two-on-one. There hadn¡¯t been time for backup plans, but she had been crystal clear about not letting this drag out. While the lesser demons were being warded off by that god-awful orb of hers, it wasn¡¯t like they had been struck blind and would ignore this brawl occurring under the rising sun.

    ¡°How is he still wriggling around with so many broken bones?¡± Verin whined, struggling to his feet. Hard to catch as he was, he was more fragile than his brother, and so Resent had been concentrating his strikes on him. Despite the brutal blows he received from Xanthos as a consequence, Verin¡¯s injuries were adding up nearly as fast as Resent¡¯s.

    ¡°Remember, the nebulae manipulators were also infamous for their accelerated regeneration.¡± Xanthos strode over to the rear of the car Resent was slumped against and gripped the bumper with enough pressure to dent the metal. With a grunt, he hefted the vehicle off the street, then held it overhead diagonally, the front aimed down at Resent. It would be comically over the top, if it wasn¡¯t so horrifying. ¡°No matter, all we need do is destroy him thoroughly.¡±

    ¡°Holy crap,¡± Rodrigo mumbled. Adena had warned that like the brothers¡¯ physiques suggested, compared to the average diavolik, Verin was far nimbler and Xanthos was herculean, but with her typical nonchalance, she hadn¡¯t given the pair enough credit.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a particularly impressive feat of strength for my kind...¡± Resent began, giving Rodrigo a flicker of hope. ¡°Nonetheless, it¡¯d certainly be enough to annihilate this body.¡± And immediately snuffed it out.

    Resent was skidding back, when molten metal rained down onto Xanthos¡¯ head and exposed arms from the vehicle in his hands. Yelping, he dropped the smoking car with a hole burning through its center to his side before it could completely melt on top of him. He tore off the charred helmet that had saved his brain from being broiled and threw it aside, revealing golden wavy hair slick with sweat.

    Inside a second, Verin swerved around, scanned the area for his brother¡¯s attacker, then spun back to Resent, his eyes wide. ¡°Who else is with you?¡±

    ¡°From the fear on your face, I imagine you can hazard a guess. I have a Blight in my employ.¡± Resent smirked, like he was talking about an underling instead of their de facto leader.

    Verin blinked. ¡°From Dreadmus? But why would she¡ª¡±

    ¡°Focus, brother!¡± Xanthos barked, the blackening burns on his arms lacing his voice with pain. ¡°We can deliver her head to Misery alongside the former prince¡¯s. Find her!¡±

    As Verin ran off toward the warehouse, Resent sprang to his feet, arms outstretched, dark orbs already generated on his fingertips. All at once, he fired them at Verin¡¯s back, but Xanthos slid in front of their trajectory, guarding his face behind charred forearms. The nebulae smashed into his vambraces, snapping off several of the spikes but not piercing through. The motion of raising his arms was enough to make Xanthos grit his teeth.

    ¡°Pathetic,¡± Resent said. ¡°With the way the Blight was singing your praises, I expected more. But it seems the two of you are only halfway decent as a set.¡±

    ¡°Easy to say for someone born into such privilege. Your nebulae, your regeneration, your elite mentors...can you honestly say you would be as accomplished as you are without even one of those advantages?¡±

    Resent scoffed. ¡°Oh, conqueror, my estimation of you lowers with each asinine remark that escapes your mouth. The tables turn, and so like a child, you resort to hypotheticals? Have it your way, then. Die in disgrace, at the hands of your contemporary.¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you thinking?¡± Rodrigo asked as Resent gave him back control.

    ¡°Crippled as he is, Xanthos is as good as dead. That slippery bastard Verin¡¯s the real problem. Kill this one off, while I study the other.¡±

    As Rodrigo looked at Xanthos¡¯ face, twisted with vehement fury, he couldn¡¯t help but think of Resent as a matador who had waved the muleta in front of a bull, then pulled Rodrigo out of the audience to be gored in his place. He was tempted to argue the absurdity of this, but this was the first time the prince was choosing to rely on him, and he didn¡¯t want to ruin that newfound trust.

    Still, he wasn¡¯t deluded enough to think Xanthos¡¯ injury put them on equal footing. Since Adena had filled him in on how long-lived demons were, all those centuries of experience had become the most frightening thing about them. Xanthos being able to beat Rodrigo to death, even without his arms was a safe bet. Letting him close the distance wasn¡¯t an option. Not on his terms, anyway.

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    Rodrigo discreetly hid his right hand behind him as he thrust his left out, forming the sphere from the nebulae, then directed it downward. It was actually the creature countering him that taught him the tendrils were sharp enough to burrow through concrete, as they did now. The pair of spikes burst from the ground a few feet away from Xanthos, stabbing upward for his torso. The conqueror raised his leg to kick them away, only for a third tendril to sprout up behind him from Rodrigo¡¯s concealed hand and slice the back of his other knee open above his greave. It was a vulnerable point even in most medieval armor, protection being sacrificed for mobility and comfort. Off balance and hamstrung, Xanthos fell with a grunt.

    No sooner than Rodrigo had gripped the hilt of his sword and started running forward, Verin rushed back over and booted him in the chest. His momentum working against him, he was knocked away and flat onto his back. It wasn¡¯t the power behind the hit, but the swiftness of it that left him gasping for air.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Xanthos demanded, wobbling as he rose yet looking annoyed at his brother¡¯s interference. ¡°You think me incapable of dispatching some mongrel?¡±

    ¡°No, but if you avoid damaging your arms further, they should heal in a few hours. Stay back, and watch for the Blight. She is using a fade periapt, as those of her ilk favor.¡± As Verin was approaching Rodrigo, he came to a halt and squinted down at him, seemingly just noticing the change in appearance. ¡°Unbelievable. The coward switched places with you? How does he believe that will benefit him?¡±

    ¡°Maybe...I¡¯m more competent than you think,¡± Rodrigo said through ragged breaths as he stood up.

    Verin snorted before darting at Rodrigo faster than he could move a muscle. As his foot was about to kick Rodrigo¡¯s head off his shoulders, Resent popped in and caught Verin¡¯s leg with the nebulae. Not wasting a second on taunts, he crushed Verin¡¯s nose and mouth under a vertical fist. The jab was hard enough to knock off his helmet and hurl him a fair distance.

    Resent raised his right arm, pointing his index and pinky fingers at the downed Verin. He took a deep breath as his nebulae raced around him erratically. Once calm, they gathered at his hand, cracks beginning to spread throughout the concrete beneath him. Rodrigo restrained himself from asking for an explanation since Resent seemed to be in a deep state of concentration. By the end, hovering less than an inch from his fingertips, were two small nebulae with an odd shine to them, resembling dark stars.

    It wasn¡¯t until Xanthos, who had been hurtling to his brother¡¯s aid despite his wounded leg, made it a few meters from Resent that Rodrigo saw what the previous seconds of buildup had been for. Resent shifted his hand toward Xanthos and the nebulae burst into dual beams that bore straight through his skull, dropping his limp body in an instant, and piercing the building behind him. The beams kept moving, out of sight, but audible as they continued to wreak an indeterminable amount of havoc.

    ¡°Xanthos!¡± Verin screamed as he rose and ran to his older brother¡¯s side. He scooped his brother off the ground with his one good arm and got a safe distance from Resent before pausing. The lower half of his face was smeared with blood, and tears, actual tears, were welling in his eyes. To think, the two brothers must have been part of each other¡¯s lives for several times longer than Carlito had been in Rodrigo¡¯s. He almost felt like the bad guy.

    The black slits in Verin¡¯s orange eyes constricted, animal-like in their ferocity, as he glared back at Resent. ¡°I swear on my brother¡¯s corpse, Prince,¡± He spat the title out as if it were a curse, his mocking tone from earlier gone. ¡°I will return with a legion and tear you, the Blight, and anyone else cowering in that building limb from bloody limb!¡±

    As soon as Verin was gone, Resent fell on hands and knees, taking big gulps of air.

    Rodrigo was forced back into control. ¡°Uh, are you all right?¡±

    Resent hesitated. ¡°The 666 is a technique that every member of my bloodline learns. It¡¯s a deathblow, an attack on the soul itself, that there is no regenerating from. But it comes at the considerable price of leaving oneself in an exhausted, vulnerable state, which is why I¡¯ve avoided using it thus far. I do not repeat my mistakes.¡±

    ¡°What mistake?¡±

    ¡°Never you mind. Just return to the building so I can recuperate.¡±

    Adena was standing by the entrance of the warehouse. ¡°See what happens when plans aren¡¯t followed?¡±

    Rodrigo raised an eyebrow. ¡°So, what? You let him get away for a teachable moment?¡±

    ¡°Since I don¡¯t share Jett¡¯s interest in self-destruction, no, I didn¡¯t let Verin do anything. Fast as he was, if I failed to end him in one attack and gave away my position, he could have killed me in seconds.¡±

    Rodrigo found anyone being able to kill Adena in seconds hard to imagine, but she was looking run-down. After Adena had used her key card to open the doors, she pressed a button on her phone. Rodrigo covered his ears as a blaring alarm went off throughout the warehouse.

    Jett was the first to react, racing out of his room and down the stairs, coated in electricity. He glanced around frantically before relaxing as much as could be expected. When the electricity died down, Rodrigo was glad to see his cousin had at least pulled himself together enough to clean the blood off his face. Those claw marks were definitely going to leave some nasty scars, though.

    Indistinct screams and frenzied movement was heard from the others upstairs until Adena turned off the alarm. Rodrigo went to the bottom of the staircase and yelled up, ¡°It¡¯s okay, guys, we¡¯re not under attack or anything!¡±

    One by one, the group, including a yawning Carlito, came down the steps.

    ¡°The hell was that? A fire drill?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Something important has come up,¡± Adena said. ¡°Feel free to get some breakfast first.¡±

    Rodrigo went over to Carlito, who was in line with the others, to rummage through the huge 4-door refrigerator. ¡°Glad to see you up and about, bro. You had us all worried.¡±

    Carlito stared blankly at him. ¡°Sorry. I still don¡¯t know what happened to me. Did I miss anything big?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯ll hear about it soon enough, anyway.¡±

    Everyone stuck to easy to make foods like toaster pastries and cereal, so after a few minutes, they were all seated around the table.

    ¡°All right, what¡¯s this about?¡± Raquel asked, and all eyes flicked to Adena.

    ¡°This location is no longer secure. While you were in your rooms, two powerful demons discovered us. Resent and I killed one, but the other one escaped, vowing to return in force. I don¡¯t plan on being trapped in here, so we¡¯ll be leaving in the next twenty minutes.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Leila asked. She checked the time on her phone. ¡°It¡¯s only been a few hours since we got here. I thought this place was supposed to be safe?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true. We¡¯re having a streak of bad luck,¡± Adena said. ¡°First a captain, and then a pair of conquerors. But we have advantages normal people don¡¯t. If we can find an abandoned building, which shouldn¡¯t be hard with everyone fleeing the borough, then we can transfer over the portable defenses I have here and make a temporary safe house out of it.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a good idea,¡± Carlito said, drumming his fingers on the table. ¡°But what about getting there? I don¡¯t know where we are, but we¡¯re going to have a bad time on foot.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem. Look, our priority is to survive. Staying here all but guarantees our deaths. It¡¯s that simple,¡± Adena said. What choice did they have? Verin was enough of a handful alone. If he came back healed up and with an army, there would be no way to defend against that.

    ¡°So, now that we¡¯re clear on this, pull yourselves together and meet me in the garage,¡± Adena said as she stood up. ¡°And one more thing. We¡¯re not out there to be humanitarians. I don¡¯t want to see any of you endangering your lives for anyone outside this room.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Raquel asked. ¡°If I see some little kids being attacked by demons that I shouldn¡¯t try to help them?¡±

    ¡°Precisely. Playing hero when you¡¯re out of your depth is a surefire way to get killed. We¡¯ll be seeing plenty of awful things out there. It¡¯ll be hard for some of you, but you need to suppress any altruistic impulses. If not for your own safety, then for the sake of the rest of the group, let those that will die...die,¡± Adena said before walking away.

 Chapter 27 â€“ Animals

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°I wish this would end already,¡± Carlito said wearily.

    Leila hooked him in for a hug. ¡°We all do, sweetie.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get going,¡± Rodrigo said, heading for the right staircase.

    ¡°Now that we don¡¯t have to worry about being inconspicuous, the Knight XV should serve us best.¡± Adena noticed Rodrigo¡¯s eyes glued to the red one and said, ¡°This has the edge in speed and comfort which we need more. After all, there¡¯s no man-made vehicle that will provide sufficient protection from the demons.¡±

    ¡°Then why bother with armor? Shouldn¡¯t we just take the fastest you¡¯ve got?¡±

    ¡°Wow, you don¡¯t get it, do you? This is to protect us from humans.¡±

    ¡°Good. So if you¡¯re all ready, get in,¡± Adena said, either not picking up on, or disregarding how everyone was on the brink of panic. She unlocked this car with a key instead of her phone. Inside, the leather seats were red and the rest of the interior was a mix of gray and dark brown. In the back, Raquel and Carlito sat on a bench, while Jett and Leila sat in front of them, in two individual seats that faced backward, conference style. Rodrigo took a seat next to Adena as the garage door rolled up. She pulled out of the back of the warehouse and onto the street.

    Everything beyond a one-block radius of the warehouse was beginning to resemble the apocalypse Adena had prophesied. So much smoke billowed up from burning buildings, which no one in sight was trying to extinguish, that it coalesced into a dark cloud the sun failed to penetrate. Overturned vehicles, some of which contained bodies, littered the road, making driving complicated.

    Adena drove carefully for some time, avoiding collision with anything until she saw a blond woman lying in the middle of the street, her clothes stained with blood.

    ¡°Help me,¡± the woman said, her voice faint. Because of the various abandoned vehicles and the width of their own, driving around her didn¡¯t seem possible. The other immediate routes forward had worse blockages. ¡°Please, help me.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯re no demons around. Why won¡¯t you help her?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°We just talked about this,¡± Adena said, examining two small screens that displayed footage from the car¡¯s front and rear cameras.

    ¡°But this is different. She¡¯s right in the way. What are you gonna do, run her over?¡±

    From the apathy on Adena¡¯s face as her foot rested on the accelerator pedal, Rodrigo could tell she was considering it, so he opened the door and hopped out before she decided. He made his way to the woman slowly, checking for any demons in his immediate surroundings that the car¡¯s cameras might have missed.

    ¡°Hey, how bad is it?¡± Rodrigo asked gently, kneeling at her side. She wasn¡¯t much older than him. If the wound wasn¡¯t fatal, maybe they could drop her off at a hospital...if those were even still open.

    Hehadn¡¯t been prepared for the blowto the back of his head in the slightest, so he couldn¡¯t even use his hands to break his fall.He was crawling along the ground, his vision blurring as he tried to put space between him and his attacker.

    Someone¡¯s knee dug into his back, pressing his torso down and pinning him under the person¡¯s weight. ¡°Nothing personal, kiddo, but yours is the first ride come by in more than an hour, and it looks like a damn good one.¡±

    Rodrigo glanced over his shoulder and saw a large man with a shaved head looming there. He was twirling an aluminum baseball bat in his hand.

    Adena got out of the car and slammed the heavy bullet-proof door, exasperated with the entire situation. In hindsight, Rodrigo felt like an idiot. The improvised roadblock and the injured woman¡¯s convenient position had screamed trap, but after being unable to save the couple in the park, those people Sonneillon ate, and his aunt, he was just so determined to do something right.

    ¡°Now, I know what you¡¯re thinking, doll,¡± the man said, not even tensing as Adena strode closer. ¡°¡®Why¡¯s the handsome man trying to take my car when there¡¯s plenty throughout the streets?¡¯ But those junkers didn¡¯t help the people in ¡®em escape these freaks, did they? So, if you¡¯d just leave us the key for that beast, you and anyone else inside can¡±

    Adena exploded into action, lunging at the man and jabbing her gloved thumbs deep into his eye sockets. He cried out and fell off Rodrigo, scurrying back as he blindly lashed out at the air with his bat. The woman, covered in the odorless liquid masquerading as blood, rose and took a halfhearted swing at Adena. She dodged it and pivoted, smashing the point of her elbow into the blond¡¯s jaw and knocking her unconscious with a crack.

    ¡°What are you assholes waiting for? Kill that bitch!¡± the man, now bleeding from his lower eyelids, yelled. Two guys stood up from behind the broken-down cars that had been blocking the road and vaulted over the hoods toward Adena.

    Still dazed, Rodrigo got to his feet next to her, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

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    She waved him off. ¡°Don¡¯t bother. Just get back in the car.¡±

    Adena danced around the two men with practiced ease, softening them up with a flurry of sharp knees and elbows, as she capitalized on every opening left by their telegraphed punches. It was like watching Bruce Lee dismantle a pair of lumbering drunks. But as the men were worn down from the blows, Adena¡¯s fighting style grew even more vicious as she attacked their groins, throats, and eyes. It was then their grunts of pain became shrieks. Every move she made was executed with ruthless efficiency...to leave her opponents so maimed and broken that retaliation would be impossible.

    ¡°Hold up, hold up, hold up,¡± a manic voice urged from behind them.

    Rodrigo whirled to see a dark-haired man with his arm barred across a writhing Raquel¡¯s neck. He was pressing the barrel of a pistol to her temple, his knees bent to hide behind her like a human shield. On closer inspection, the gun was hers. One of the car¡¯s windows was rolled down and Leila was aiming her shotgun at the man, her hands shaking. Making that shot without a stray pellet hitting Raquel would be challenging, even for a sharpshooter. He had been so mesmerized by Adena that he didn¡¯t realize what was happening back there.

    ¡°Somebody better drop the keys and all of you start walking or I¡¯ll blow her brains out. Swear to God, I will.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s blood roared in his ears, logic abandoning him. He materialized the nebulae in his left hand, formed a chain from them and snapped it around the wrist of the hand holding the gun. He made the nebulae crush it, breaking the bone, and then he yanked the wailing man forward as Raquel slipped out of his panicked grasp. Rodrigo caught him by the throat with his right hand and slammed him into the concrete, falling over him.

    The man muttered something incoherent, but Rodrigo said nothing. He wasn¡¯t worth the words. Still choking him with his right hand, Rodrigo hammered on the man¡¯s face again and again and again with his left. People...no, animals like this, they were no different from the demons preying on the weak and innocent at every opportunity. The world didn¡¯t need them.

    Eventually, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder and Jett said, ¡°Ruy, come on. You got him. He¡¯s had enough.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s breath hitched as he looked down at the man¡¯s disfigured, bloody face. He was missing a bunch of teeth and his facial bones were misshapen in several places. Then there were the red fingernail indentations on his throat, which looked like someone had tried to claw out his windpipe. The only sign that he was still alive was his uneven breathing.

    ¡°Quite brutal, human. I commend you,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been awake this whole time? Why didn¡¯t you deal with this?¡±

    ¡°Obviously, because I was curious as to how you would handle it. I have to admit, I didn¡¯t believe you would be as inclined to kill one of your own as you are with demons. I stand corrected.¡±

    Rodrigo gave no response as he went to a horrified Raquel and looked her over. Besides a fresh bruise on her cheek, she seemed unharmed.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry. I know I shouldn¡¯t have left the car, but...this was because of me,¡± Raquel said, her lower lip quivering as she fought back tears.

    He embraced her before watching as she got back into the car. Returning his attention to Adena¡¯s fight, he cringed at the sight of four corpses burned to a crisp. He walked over to her side, mouth agape.

    ¡°Don¡¯t act shocked. On top of everything else, they saw what you could do,¡± Adena said.

    Rodrigo shrugged. ¡°So what? They wouldn¡¯t have been the first.¡±

    ¡°If this world ever regains any sense of order, do you want enemies who can describe you and what you¡¯re capable of, walking around?¡±

    ¡°Is there a reason you¡¯re pestering her? She did nothing I would not have done myself,¡± Resent said. But that was exactly the problem. Rodrigo never particularly considered himself the sensitive type, but was struggling to accept he had hurt another human being so severely, whereas Adena killed those people like it was nothing. Like they were nothing. Now, with the state of the world, was it him or her whose way of thinking was flawed?

    ¡°I hope you all learned from this,¡± Adena said. ¡°These weren¡¯t hardened criminals or lunatics. Just desperate people doing anything they could to survive. And the longer this goes on, the more like them we¡¯ll see.¡± Although Rodrigo and Raquel were responsible for making her stop, she didn¡¯t single them out. He would¡¯ve loved to think she was being considerate, but it was more likely that she felt the rest of them judging her before.

    They had been driving for a while, through light snow growing heavier by the minute, when a malformed dropped out of the sky and smashed into the windshield. Everyone except Adena screamed, but even she jumped, hitting the brakes and narrowly avoiding a crash. Rodrigo was sure they were under attack until the malformed rolled off the hood of the vehicle, clawing at an inky substance covering its eyes.

    ¡°Oh, no,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°Oh god. What now?¡±

    ¡°That webbing belongs to the festered. If they¡¯re here, we don¡¯t want to be.¡±

    The malformed wrenched the webs off, along with a patch of its gray skin, then beat its wings and returned to the skies with haste.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go down another street. Resent says something called the festered is close and I don¡¯t want to find out more if we don¡¯t have to,¡± Rodrigo said, looking through the window at his side. When there was no reply or movement for several seconds, he turned to Adena. She had a death grip on the leather-wrapped steering wheel and was sweating profusely. ¡°H-hey, are you all right?¡±

    It was a stupid question. He sat up on his knees in the seat to look back at the others. Raquel was shuddering and Carlito was wheezing hard. Jett was squeezing his eyes shut, mumbling prayers in Spanish, and clutching rosary beads he had pulled out from under his t-shirt. Leila had her shotgun in hand and was steadily bringing the barrel closer to her chin.

    ¡°Jesus, what are you doing?¡± Rodrigo yelled as he reached out and snatched the gun from her. Leila screeched and slapped at him repeatedly, as if he meant to harm her.

    ¡°The effect is inordinate. There must be many of them,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°What exactly is happening and how much worse is it going to get?¡±

    ¡°The mere presence of the festered induces panic to varying degrees, dependent on the individual. And at this rate, things will continue to deteriorate far more quickly than we can control them.¡±

    Before Rodrigo could ask anything more, something with four blade-like legs and four thick arms slunk by his window. On the opposite side, one with six longer legs and two thinner arms rushed past. They were coming faster than he could count, heading toward something. With each glimpse of the festered, Rodrigo became more aware of his heart drumming against his rib cage. His breathing grew increasingly unsteady until it felt like he was suffocating.

    Resent took over and used the nebulae to confiscate Raquel¡¯s pistol to prevent a repeat of what they witnessed with Leila. He ignored her outburst, placing both guns underneath the glove box, and then stared through the cracked windshield. Up the road were three M1 Abrams tanks supported by a huge group of army soldiers. The festered were charging at them, spewing ebony webs from their mouths and being met with a deafening volley of machine-gun fire that seemed to be achieving little.

    In the sanctuary of Rodrigo¡¯s mind, his surge of anxiety was dying down. The festered were diverse in their features and clothing, but there were some consistencies. Most of them were fairly humanoid from the waist up, though less so than the diavoliks. The ones with six legs and longer lower bodies were female. And the ones with four legs and burlier upper bodies were male. Regardless of gender, arranged on each of their faces in distinct patterns, were multiple pairs of beady black eyes that showed no white.

    It was fortunate Jett¡¯s eyes were closed. Years back, on one of the rare occasions where Rodrigo¡¯s cousins had come to his house for a sleepover instead of the other way around, a small spider crawled on Jett while he was sleeping. He woke up, freaked out, and made the rest of them sweep the room for spiders for close to an hour before letting them go back to bed. With the shape Jett was in now, Rodrigo could only hope that he didn¡¯t get a good look at these things.

    The three tanks fired their cannons, one after another, into the advancing horde of festered. Because of how tightly packed in against each other they were, this had far greater success than firearms as the ear-ringing explosions scattered them and more than one demon was blown to pieces.

    The decrease in the festered¡¯s numbers lessened the strain on Adena enough to snap her back to her senses. In the next instant, she put the car in reverse, outright ramming smaller cars out of her path. As they turned the corner at full-speed, the last thing they saw was the demons swarming the soldiers and binding the treads of their tanks with webs. The chorus of screams that followed, blending in with the various others throughout the city, signaled the worst.

 Chapter 28 â€“ Fatal Attraction

    During the ride away from the battle, Resent had returned control to Rodrigo. Though the prince hadn¡¯t shown any signs of panic like the rest of them, that he had nothing derisive to say and had been content to let the military and festered fight among themselves, spoke volumes.

    Only when they were miles away did Adena gradually slow down, then pull the SUV to a stop in an outdoor parking lot. She released the steering wheel. ¡°That was bad. I¡¯ve encountered them over the years, but the fear could always be worked through. There were just...so many.¡± She was the closest to frightened Rodrigo had ever seen her. She wouldn¡¯t meet his stare and seemed to be fighting the urge to bite her nails through her gloves. Seeing she was as human as the rest of them might have been endearing, if he and his family weren¡¯t so reliant on her.

    Adena took a deep, steadying breath. ¡°Demon presence seems to have been lowered by the snow. While it¡¯s still foreign enough to worry them, I¡¯m going to find a building we can use. Anyone who wants to can come, too. Leila, stay here in case someone needs to drive.¡± She left the key and a fade periapt on the dashboard. With that and the windows tinted, they were just one car of dozens.

    ¡°Do what?¡± Rodrigo asked, turning to her.

    ¡°Not be afraid.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? I¡¯m plenty scared, too.¡±

    ¡°Back in the hotel, you were. At least a little. But you¡¯re not anymore. Like when the rest of us were losing it back there, you were still calm enough to take my gun from me.¡± Leila frowned, a look of regret crossing her face. ¡°Sorry about hitting you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. You weren¡¯t yourself and I¡¯m used to worse.¡±

    ¡°You are?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You know, from the demons,¡± Rodrigo amended. As nice as it might be to have someone to confide in about his disastrous relationship with his mother, he had no desire to be viewed as a victim in need of sympathy.

    By the pity in her eyes, Leila had seen through the lie, though had the courtesy to not try forcing the truth from him. ¡°Anyway, like I was saying, I get it with Adena. She¡¯s been dealing with demons for years. You were new to them and it¡¯s like you¡¯ve already adjusted.¡± After a bit, she threw in, ¡°It¡¯s not, like, a bad thing, of course.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I mean, having Resent to talk me through things definitely helps, but it¡¯s for Raquel and Carlito, too. I¡¯m sure you know how it is with Hannah. When things get rough, you don¡¯t want them to see you¡ª¡±

    ¡°My sister¡¯s dead.¡±

    Rodrigo blinked. ¡°W-what?¡±

    ¡°Hannah, my mom, and my dad. All dead for over a year now.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯sthroat tightened. He knew something was wrong by the evasive way she reacted to any mention of her family, but he was thinking something like a falling-out.

    so

    Shame engulfed Rodrigo. She he had been hassling her about elementary school nonsense. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry...Did he, uh, get arrested?¡±

    ¡°He shot himself before the cops showed up.¡± Leila paused, her eyes starting to glaze over. ¡°Bianca made it even through all that. She was the only person who actually still knew me and now she¡¯s gone. Feels like I¡¯m next.¡±

    Suddenly, Rodrigo clasped her hand in his and locked eyes with her. ¡°I know you, and I won¡¯t let that happen. I¡¯ll protect you.¡±

    Leila re-focused her attention on him. ¡°Can you promise that?¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t,¡±

    But the longer he gazed into those large amber eyes, the less rational he felt. ¡°I promise, if you die, it¡¯ll only be after I died doing everything I could to prevent it.¡±

    ¡°Or, we could shelve the doom and gloom, both try to stay alive, and see where that leads us,¡± Leila said softly. She broke eye contact and started taking glances at his mouth. He felt his face heat as she snickered in that cute way of hers. Then she was looking at his lips again.

    Was she expecting him to make the first move? He didn¡¯t have the skills for this. Almost always concerned about Raquel and Carlito, outside of school, he spent little time with kids his own age. Especially girls. He had kissed a grand total of two, and neither of them were anything like Leila. Not just in age or appearance, but there weren¡¯t years of history and feelings connecting them. While he was nervously contemplating his strategy, she became impatient and leaned in.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°excuse

    Rodrigo chuckled at the absurdity of the suggestion, knowing full well that if it wasn¡¯t life or death outside, he might have taken her up on it. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll be fine,¡± Leila said with a smile. ¡°Get some rest. You¡¯ve earned it.¡±

    With that, Rodrigo laid his head back against the seat¡¯s headrest and finally allowed himself to drift off.

    #

    Leila watched Rodrigo sleep for a bit. Even while getting some shut-eye, peace eluded him as his left hand rested on his sword¡¯s handle. Wild how he thought fear was something that could be flicked off like a light switch. Then again, growing up, that was how she remembered him. Horror movies, roller coasters, bigger kids throwing their weight around, like anyone else, all of it scared him. But not for long.

    Funny how she was now relying on, and maybe even a bit attracted to, his capacity for violence, which she was so frightened of as a kid. Too bad it took losing her family to understand his desperation to protect his own.

    Still, she had gotten caught up in the moment before. Once upon a time, when she used to date regularly, it was mainly with guys older than her. Rodrigo, who lacked even a hint of facial hair, was way too young.

    Nope, that was a lie. Other than being adorably shy when it came to boy-girl stuff, he was more mature than a lot of the seniors in her high school.

    He was the first person besides her court-ordered therapist she opened up to about the incident. Even if she left out how after she rejected Vincent, she told her friends about it, and they all laughed at him, except Bianca. Even if she forgot to mention how it spread around her school and resulted in him being constantly bullied for a solid two weeks, during which she didn¡¯t lift a finger to stop it. Even if she hadn¡¯t told him that she was the one who shot Vincent dead. Right through his stupidly grinning face. All because she didn¡¯t want the way Rodrigo looked at her, like she was flawless, to change. If anything, it was probably she who was too immature for him.

    Leila got out of the vehicle. ¡°Where¡¯s Carlito and Ms. winning personality?¡±

    ¡°Still checking out buildings,¡± Jett said, pointing across the street. ¡°I dunno what exactly she¡¯s looking for, but it felt like a waste to be there.¡±

    ¡°Kay. I need to stretch my legs. You know how to drive?¡±

    Jett looked sheepish, which was a pleasant change from the constant melancholy and anger she¡¯d seen on his face so far. ¡°Yeah...well, good enough, anyway. I was taking lessons.¡±

    ¡°All right, hold down the fort. I¡¯ll be back in a few.¡±

    With what Jett had seen, she knew from experience that he wouldn¡¯t be falling asleep anytime soon. After the massacre, she had stayed up for nearly three full days because every time her eyes were shut, she saw her family in the darkness. Or at least what was left of them. When his trauma wasn¡¯t as fresh, hopefully talking to him about it could be of some help to them both.

    Leila grabbed her shotgun, a 20-gauge Escort Gladius, and crossed the street. The real reason she was going was to try to build a better relationship with Adena. Leila realized Adena didn¡¯t have much respect for her. And honestly, she was the type of girl a younger her would have loathed. Beautiful, intelligent, tough, and condescending all rolled into one tall package. Okay, maybe she didn¡¯t like her much even now. But in this absurd new world, someone like her was exactly who you wanted on your side, and that meant putting in the effort to play nice.

    She wondered, not for the first time, how Bianca¡¯s parents were fairing. With how inseparable she and Bianca had been since middle school, they had been kind enough to take her in after her own parents were killed. Now she had to inform them that their only child was dead, through means that were somehow hazy in her mind, and the weight of that responsibility terrified her more than any demon.

    Leila was approaching the staircase, picking up snippets of a conversation going on above her, when a vaguely familiar voice came through loud and clear. A voice too feminine to be Carlito¡¯s and too high-pitched to be Adena¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯ve already sent word. It shouldn¡¯t be long now.¡±

    Leila stopped in her tracks.

    ¡°I wish you hadn¡¯t,¡± Adena responded. ¡°It makes me look...uncooperative.¡±

    There was a long pause before the other spoke again. ¡°Dena, be a dear and take care of the eavesdropper below.¡±

    Leila¡¯s blood froze in her veins. She could scream, but she doubted the others would hear her over the noise of the city. She could run. She had a head start and as far as she knew, super speed wasn¡¯t one of Adena¡¯s many talents. But turning his back on a threat was exactly how a veteran like her dad got killed by an amateur like Vincent. And Adena was no amateur.

    ¡°Why are you just standing there?¡± the voice asked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s not Resent. It¡¯s one of his little pets.¡±

    Leila thanked God she still had her shotgun loaded with electric rounds and not fire or ice. She couldn¡¯t imagine either of those stopping Adena. She tried to keep her hands steady as she braced the stock of the gun against her right shoulder and aimed up to the top of the stairs. Six shots should be enough. Right? No matter how capable she was, Adena was only human. Right?

    Leila heard a drop of liquid falling to the tile floor behind her. She didn¡¯t think much of it at first. Then she heard the sizzle. She spun around in time to see the ceiling melted through. In a panic, she squeezed the trigger and fired off three shots through the hole before getting even a glimpse of Adena¡¯s bleached hair.

    A fireball came through in retaliation, striking the barrel of Leila¡¯s shotgun with pinpoint accuracy. She threw it to the ground with a curse as the weapon started to liquefy in her hands.

    While Leila fumbled to free her sidearm from its holster, Adena dropped through the hole, landing nimbly a few feet in front of her. With some sort of gold knife in her right hand, she reached out to slit Leila¡¯s throat.

 Chapter 29 â€“ Trial By Fire

    Resent stood in the center of the arena, significantly taller than in past dreams, he appeared to be in early adulthood. Drenched in dark blood from head to toe, he was clad in ebony-and-gold ornate armor that bared lean arms corded with muscle, and wore fingerless gauntlets that still had bits of flesh clinging to the spiked knuckles. He was surrounded by numerous butchered demons dressed in tattered bright hues of yellow and white. In front of him, crawling away, was the sole survivor, a lithe female with golden hair that cascaded down her back.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Devika? With your incessant boasting, even I was almost convinced you could rise to the occasion.¡± Resent kicked her hard in the ribs, and then using the nebulae, lifted her into the air by her slender neck. Unlike Misery¡¯s battle from the previous dream, other than a few scattered cries for the prince to end it, there was a tense silence among the spectating demons. Resent glanced up to the throne where his father sat.

    King Strife had shut his eyes and was pressing his fingers against them, as if to blot out the scandal brewing below him.

    Resent snarled, dispersing the nebulae and dropping Devika to the ground.

    ¡°Astonishing!¡± a voice announced from high above the arena. ¡°Prince Resent has decimated a hundred soldiers, and humbled the great city of Vicearia¡¯s most prominent conqueror. Clearly, he has the makings of a peerless king.¡±

    ¡°Pleased with yourself, whoreson?¡± Devika spat. ¡°The only reason you are capable of anything is because you have been privileged with the nebulae. Were it not for that, my forces and I would have torn you apart.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Is my birthright to blame for the loss of your wits? Not your own bitterness?¡± Resent drawled, yanking her closer so that their faces were inches apart. He spoke in a tone so low that not even the sharpest-eared spectator would hear. ¡°Allowing you to warm my bed for a time was merely my way of fulfilling a curiosity. That your ambitions of escaping your father¡¯s thrall made you aspire to anything more is no fault of mine.¡±

    Devika¡¯s upturned blue eyes shone with mild amusement. ¡°Speaking from personal shortcomings, Prince?¡±

    Resent¡¯s angular jaw tightened as he ran his fingers through Devika¡¯s silky hair with a lover¡¯s tenderness, then seized it in an iron grip near the base of her skull. ¡°How often I would wake to find you combing this mane of yours. Lacking a demon¡¯s regeneration, it must have taken a great deal of time and caution for it to reach such an impressive length.¡±

    ¡°Stop,¡± she mumbled as fear born of vanity began to replace her defiance. ¡°Please, stop. Apologies for my impertinence.¡±

    ¡°Your words are as hollow as my affection for you. If you are truly sorry...¡± Resent paused, contemplating an appropriately humiliating punishment, then flashed his teeth in a feral smile. ¡°Lick my boots.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Resent pointed down to his sabatons that ended in short, tapered points. ¡°You see how blood-covered they are? It all belongs to you and your soldiers due to your ill-conceived challenge to me. Now, clean up your mess.¡±

    Devika¡¯s elegantly thin brows narrowed. Any fear driven out of her by the demeaning suggestion. ¡°Absolutely not, you degenerate.¡±

    ¡°Well, if nothing else, I can respect that about you,¡± Resent said, and then in a single tug, ripped most of her hair out at the roots as she screamed. The crowd howled with laughter as he strutted around, using the nebulae to launch it up to them in bloody clumps. Devika¡¯s face revealed no sadness or shame. Only simmering rage as she glared at the prince with such pure hate that if he were any less conceited, he would have executed her on the spot as a precaution.

    Later, as the tournament continued, Resent joined the king at the pair of thrones that overlooked the arena. Even seated, it was clear he was now both broader and taller than his father, if only slightly. ¡°Did you see? How utterly I dominated them?¡±

    Strife¡¯s gaze remained on the battle below, his elbow resting on the arm of his throne, leaning his chin on his fist. ¡°You take pride in that? Slaughtering nameless warriors and needlessly persecuting High Lord Semiazas¡¯ daughter? And to what end? To assuage your bruised ego? Were we not in Dreadmus, your actions today could have ignited a war.¡±

    ¡°I would have welcomed one. It is long past time the Vicearians learned their place. They grow far too pompous for being led by one of them.¡±

    ¡°And because of what he formerly was, you imagine yourself a better leader than Semiazas?¡±

    ¡°Naturally.¡±

    Strife snickered. ¡°Do not let the flattery deceive you, boy. You do not have the ¡®makings of a peerless king,¡¯ or even a decent one. Your life has been spent training and having your inane narcissism stoked by easy victories in this arena. You have led no one, nowhere. Continue on this path and all you will ever prove to be is a vacuous tyrant.¡±

    Resent rose from his throne. ¡°It is remarkable, father. Most days you willfully neglect my existence, yet in the rare instances that you do not, you wag your condescending tongue, as if lecturing a simpleton. I grow oh, so weary of it all.¡±

    Resent tried to strike his father across the face, but without the king moving an inch, black nebulae, flecked with gray, caught the punch, snaking up the prince¡¯s arm and ending in a barbed tendril, ready to burrow through his ear canal with a thought.

    Strife turned his head with a predatory slowness, violet eyes radiating such an eagerness for violence that Resent lurched back. ¡°My foolish son, I realize you are little more than the product of this brutish society of ours, leaning into the basest instincts of our species, but I urge you to oppose your nature and think. If this ends here, I will excuse it. However, attack once more, forcing me to leave my seat, and I will award you the death such hubris deserves.¡±

    Strife¡¯s nebulae dissipated, and he relaxed on his throne, returning his attention to the battle. He was indifferent to all the hostile posturing and glowering Resent did in the next minutes. Only when the prince stormed away did the king even spare a glance in his direction.

    #

    Rodrigo jolted awake to voices hollering over each other from outside the car. Though that was nothing new lately, this racket was coming from nearby. He looked in the backseat and saw Raquel still resting. He decided against waking her. Even if whatever was happening wasn¡¯t as dire as it sounded, better she was hidden here than in harm¡¯s way.

    He quickly left the car and found himself in the midst of a snowstorm. In the hours he had slept, at least half a foot had piled up and it was coming down heavier than ever. As he slipped on his leather gloves and pulled his scarf higher up his shivering face, he was regretting not buying a hat in the mall.

    In the distance, he saw several shapes. He recognized most of the silhouettes as his friends, but one stood taller and broader than the rest. The figure appeared to have three curved horns growing out of its forehead, the center horn longer than the other two. Balanced on its shoulder, glinting against a black pauldron in the moonlight, was the crimson blade of a scythe.

    Without explanation, Resent took control and ran wildly toward the scene. The demon wearing the tri-horned crown, spun the scythe with a single hand, smacking the onrushing Resent away using the blunt end of the pearl white snath.

    Resent slid back, shrugging the glancing blow off and swallowing his fury as he scanned around them. His eyesight must have been sharp enough to see clearly through the blizzard, because he asked, ¡°You came alone?¡±

    ¡°Why would I not?¡± With a full forest green beard and shoulder-length hair tied back into a short ponytail, in human years, Misery looked close to a decade older than he had in Resent¡¯s previous memory dream. His distinctive white eyes, devoid of pupils, were as Rodrigo remembered them, but under his left was something that would be out of place on any demon. A scar. One long enough that it nearly stretched down to his beard. ¡°Since the beginning, I have had knowledge of your whereabouts and your new limitations. In my estimation, you are the one woefully unprepared.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°What are you prattling on about?¡± Resent demanded through gritted teeth.

    Misery tossed the scythe he was carrying to Adena. She snatched it out of the air effortlessly by the bone-like snath and walked over to his side. Jett and Carlito watched in terrified silence.

    ¡°You certainly took long enough. Still, well done, my Blight,¡± Misery said. And suddenly, Verin¡¯s shock from hours earlier at a Blight working with Resent made sense. Not just any Blight, either, but the Blight of Dreadmus, Hell¡¯s capital. It had been a warning sign, exclamation mark and all. One Rodrigo had overlooked, because he didn¡¯t want to believe that Adena¡¯s story, or the sorrow on her face while telling it, were fabricated to elicit sympathy.

    ¡°Oh, no. Who could have possibly foreseen this betrayal?¡± Resent drawled, raising a hand to cover his mouth in mock-horror. ¡°Wait a moment. That¡¯s right. I did.¡± He was trying to appear nonchalant, but with each word, the anger in his tone became plainer. No matter how suspicious of Adena he had been early on, whether he admitted it or not, the prince had come to trust her, and it showed.

    ¡°I¡¯m no traitor,¡± Adena said. ¡°That implies we were ever allies. I strung you along from the start, and your lack of awareness of how Hell¡¯s evolved in your absence made it all too easy.¡±

    Resent opened his mouth to reply, when his attention flicked to something hanging loosely from Misery¡¯s other hand. It was a burlap sack with dark stains spread all over it.

    Misery followed his gaze. ¡°Ah, how could I forget? I came bearing a second gift.¡± He undid the sack¡¯s knot and fished out a severed head by its graying hair, holding it still so Resent could get a good look. It was the head of an old man, his lower jaw slack. It took Rodrigo a few seconds to identify it as the elderly demon who had brought him the urn. Mainly, because since then, his eyes had been gouged out, his ears sliced off, and his face was covered in dry, dark blood. ¡°As you well know, true loyalty is a rarity in a demon. You should be proud to hear that regardless of the unrelenting pain inflicted upon him, Heinrik was loyal to you to his end.¡±

    Then he chucked the head into the snow at Resent¡¯s boots. Initially, the prince did nothing but stare down at his former servant¡¯s head, clenching his fists so tightly his nails were tearing through the gloves. Soon after, Resent lost all self-control, hurtling himself at Misery, consumed by grief and fifteen years of festering hatred.

    Adena stepped in his path, holding the scythe with both hands, the blade close to the ground. She moved in on Resent, slicing at a frenetic pace. He was managing to dodge, but the difference in speed between the two wasn¡¯t as large as Rodrigo expected. As Resent ducked under the arc of the blade, getting within striking distance, the scythe in Adena¡¯s hands seemingly disintegrated into flames. It re-materialized instantly, withdrawing solely to her hand that had been farther down the snath, and slicing across the bridge of Resent¡¯s nose.

    ¡°What just happened? Did she even move?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    Resent offered no answer. He kicked at Adena¡¯s shin, but she used the curved blade to hook the back of his foot and drop him to the ground.

    Adena stood over Resent with her lips curled into a thin, bloodless smile as she pointed her scythe down at him. ¡°Enough games. You can either come back to Hell with us on your feet, dignity somewhat intact, or I can drag you back after I¡¯ve dismembered you. Go ahead. Give me a reason to choose the latter.¡±

    Resent flashed Adena a murderous glare, and she was back on the hunt. As he rolled aside, the scythe¡¯s blade missed him by a hair, ripping through the snow and into the ground beneath it in a shower of sparks.

    ¡°We have to help him!¡± Carlito yelled from the sidelines.

    ¡°Interfere and I kill you,¡± Misery said distractedly, showing little interest in him and Jett as he watched Resent spring to his feet.

    Carlito¡¯s throat bobbed, but he seemed oddly unafraid otherwise. Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure whether the kid had developed balls of steel from trauma after trauma, or was failing to understand what it meant to be king of Hell¡¯s more frightening-looking monstrosities.

    Either way, it was a good thing Jett put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Carlito, don¡¯t do anything Geo would. Resent can handle this much.¡±

    He must have noticed the same thing Rodrigo had. Adena¡¯s attacks were slowing down. That scythe looked to have some heft to it and the constant barrage was tiring her out. The magic of the scythe disappearing and reappearing at will meant nothing if her hands couldn¡¯t move fast enough to grasp it.

    Other than a few minor wounds, Resent was still fresh. Generating orbs made from the nebulae on every finger, he said, ¡°You put up a decent fight, for a human. But you chose your master poorly.¡±

    Rodrigo couldn¡¯t figure Adena out. Most signs, including her, somehow, colder than usual expression, painted her as an enemy. And yet, she had chosen to fight Resent close up, instead of at range where her chances would have been far better. Just like she had chosen not to use her scythe with the lethal efficiency he knew she was capable of. But more than anything, it was her pale, bloodshot eyes that kept glancing off to where Misery stood behind her.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Rodrigo yelled, breaking Resent¡¯s concentration.

    ¡°This is hardly the time for your sentimental nonsense.¡±

    ¡°Just look her in the eye. She¡¯s trying to tell us something.¡±

    ¡°Enough! She chose her side and now she dies with the consequences.¡±

    The prince was far too blinded by rage to be rational, so Rodrigo did the only thing he could and started trying to wrest control from him.

    ¡°You stupid child,¡± Resent growled. ¡°You¡¯d throw away our lives based on a look?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong with you, but I¡¯m grateful for the opening,¡± Adena said, the frigid air making her breath come out in clouds as she looked upon Resent¡¯s strained face. She raised her scythe high and began heating the blade. As it exuded thick smoke from a small spike on the back, Rodrigo was beginning to think that, like with her sob story, she had played him again.

    Then Adena whirled. Before Misery could evade, she slashed and a wave of scarlet fire sprang from the blade. The demon king yanked the black great sword free from the sheath under his cape, trying to shield himself from the attack, but the pressure sent him spiraling back.

    ¡°Just die,¡± Adena hissed as Misery¡¯s armored body was set ablaze, and he disappeared from view. The fire grew larger, entirely unaffected by the storm. No one could take their eyes off the inferno Adena had created. The flames roared as they grew even more intense, darkening to a red so deep they looked black, and the surrounding air became hard to breathe.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Carlito screamed, half-choking on the rising wisps of smoke.

    Adena fell to a knee, panting from exertion. Seconds later, the flames burst in all directions, igniting some cars in the parking lot and leaving a steaming crater in the ground. The fire had melted the snow, the concrete, and anything else in its immediate vicinity.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Jett said as he hurried over to the empty hole, then lurched back from the heat of the windblown embers. ¡°Dude straight up exploded.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you inform me of this?¡± Resent demanded, sounding eager for an excuse to continue where they left off.

    ¡°None of this was part of the plan,¡± Adena said, her voice hoarse as she struggled to her feet. In the next second, the blade of her scythe was at Carlito¡¯s neck. ¡°It¡¯s all her fault.¡±

    Rodrigo took over before Resent could move a muscle. His sword whined as he drew it from its scabbard and placed the tip at Adena¡¯s back, ready and willing to stab her through the heart. ¡°Explain. Fast.¡±

    Adena took a long breath before glancing over her shoulder at him. ¡°Carlito¡¯s been possessed by a demon named Jezebeth. It¡¯s the reason he passed out during our encounter with Sonneillon. And she¡¯s the one who let Misery know we were here.¡±

    ¡°He looks the same, though,¡± Jett said, paying close attention to Carlito¡¯s eyes. They were the light green they had always been.

    ¡°That means nothing,¡± Resent said. ¡°A demon more experienced in possession than myself could hide all traces of their presence.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her, bro. She¡¯s a psycho. She killed Leila!¡± Carlito spat.

    Rodrigo had been aware of Leila¡¯s absence, but between Adena and Misery, he had been reacting to this train wreck in stages. Now he glanced around, his heart hammering through every inch of his body as he prodded Adena with his blade. ¡°What did you do to her?¡±

    ¡°You can take it off now,¡± Adena said coolly.

    As if out of thin air, Leila manifested a few feet away from them, a pistol in her shaky right hand, pointed at...Carlito. In her left, the golden mask with bared fangs Adena had worn to disguise herself as Flint through the illusions it created.

    ¡°What?¡± Carlito squeaked in a voice that wasn¡¯t his own. ¡°Your father¡¯s mask? But you killed her! The ashes¡ª¡±

    ¡°Were easy to produce with all the bodies around here,¡± Adena said. ¡°Conveying what she needed to know without you picking up on it was the challenge.¡±

    Rodrigo pulled his sword away from Adena, having no choice but to accept the sickening truth of the situation. ¡°How do we get her out of him?¡±

    Resent was quiet for what felt like an eternity. ¡°Death.¡±

 Chapter 30 â€“ My Brotherâ€™s Keeper

    Seeing the raw panic in Rodrigo¡¯s eyes, Jezebeth forced the corners of Carlito¡¯s mouth upward in a twisted grin. She swayed forward, pressing Carlito¡¯s throat slightly into the blade of Adena¡¯s scythe, drawing a thin line of blood. ¡°Clever of you, Dena. But I think you misjudged just how badly bro over there wants this boy to live. I left that girl¡¯s body halfway through for a reason, after all. A cute face and all those curves paled in comparison to brotherly love.¡±

    Leila¡¯s eyes went wide with sudden realization, and she staggered back, dropping her pistol in the snow. She stared down at her trembling hands with shame and revulsion. ¡°Bianca¡¯s death...you made me...¡±

    ¡°Yes, underestimation is one on a long list of many of our young Blight¡¯s recent failings.¡± The voice came from a few meters beyond the crater. There, readjusting his crown as he skirted the ruined chunk of land, was Misery. His face was covered in soot and his long cape had burned to tatters, but he was otherwise unscathed.

    ¡°I knew the obstinate bastard wouldn¡¯t die so easily, but I assumed he was at least injured,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°How?¡± Adena asked, pulling her scythe away from Jezebeth. ¡°I waited for the perfect moment and put everything I had into that. I don¡¯t care how dense that armor of yours is. The flesh should have melted from your bones.¡±

    ¡°Had I not come suspecting your disloyalty, I may have had cause for concern,¡± Misery said, shaking his head in slow disgust. ¡°You thought yourself so cunning, yet in reality every move you made was obvious to the point of being insulting. Disposing of the additional demons I sent to observe the boy. Burning his house to rubble so that I was forced to rely on you for information. And of course, refusing to check in and provide said information. Is it any wonder I had Jezebeth investigate?¡±

    ¡°If you had me figured out, then why give back Leech?¡±

    ¡°I returned your precious scythe as a show of good faith. One final chance to redeem yourself. And as expected, you turned around and lashed out at me. Like father, like daughter.¡±

    That must have hit a sore spot, because even with her exhaustion, Adena mustered the strength to rush at him. Misery seized her by the throat, mid-run, with such force that she lost her grip on her scythe. He lifted her a foot off the ground so that she was at his eye level. ¡°Is that what this is? You blame me for Lucas¡¯ ineptitude? What a bitter disappointment you are.¡±

    Coated in his emerald electricity, Jett bolted forward, going for a sliding tackle. But as the soles of Jett¡¯s feet collided with Misery¡¯s greaves, the king didn¡¯t even sway. He looked down at Jett, a living embodiment of crackling electricity that looked more demonic than he did, with only mild interest. Then he slammed Adena to the ground. The wet thud of her body crunching against the powder to form a broken snow angel could be heard even through the storm, and her short-lived scream of pain made Rodrigo flinch.

    ¡°I have heard little of you. I wonder, is it because you are so insignificant that you escaped Jezebeth¡¯s limited attention, or did Adena intend for you to be a sort of secret weapon?¡± Misery asked, making a grab for Jett.

    Jett swerved out of his reach, dragging Adena¡¯s limp body back along with him by her jacket¡¯s fur collar. He was careful not to touch her skin and shock her. ¡°Dunno, don¡¯t care. The only thing I want out of you is an answer. Why choose now to ruin the life of every person on this planet, when until yesterday, barely anyone could prove your kind existed? How can you justify tearing so many families apart?¡±

    Being a question that weighed heavily on his own mind, Rodrigo was glad that Jett voiced it and was impressed he had the composure to do so mid-combat. Somehow, whenever he himself entered a fight with a demon, the why ceased to matter.

    Misery slashed at Jett, but he was too quick. He was literally running circles around the king, searching for a gap in his armor below the neck. And that predictable pattern was his mistake. Misery stuck his sword out low, as if to cut Jett off at the legs. He hopped over the outstretched blade with ease, and right into the back of Misery¡¯s other gauntlet-covered fist. Despite his protective layer of electricity, Jett¡¯s velocity worked against him as his right arm was crushed inward. He cried out and crashed into the snow, his electricity dying down.

    ¡°That is a question for your comrade Resent,¡± Misery said as he glared down at Jett, fighting to stay conscious.

    Ever since Adena told them that Misery knew about Resent¡¯s return, Rodrigo had a feeling that it was part of the motivation behind the invasion. He just never thought it¡¯d be the driving force. How many millions of people were now dead because of the feud between these two royal pains in the asses?

    Rodrigo took a step forward to help, but Jezebeth wagged Carlito¡¯s index finger at him. ¡°Uh-uh-uh.¡± A razor-sharp dagger she must have stolen from Adena¡¯s supplies was poised to slit Carlito¡¯s throat. ¡°You stay right there. The first sign of the nebulae, or a single hair on that pretty little head of yours spiking up, and this boy becomes meat for the hounds.¡±

    Rodrigo was gripping the hilt of his sword so hard, he was convinced it would break off in his hand. Even before Resent or the nebulae, he had never felt so helpless. He was entirely at the mercy of this perversion of his brother, sneering at him with the certainty of someone who knew exactly where Rodrigo¡¯s priorities lied. He had to smother his temper as it flared to dangerous new heights.

    ¡°Leila, take the car and get out of here,¡± Rodrigo said, trying to keep his tone even. He could hear the clank of Misery¡¯s armor as he trudged through the snow, getting closer by the second. But Rodrigo¡¯s eyes were glued to Carlito¡¯s face. Just what was going on in there? Was Carlito watching, a prisoner in his own body, as Jezebeth leveraged him against them, or was he not even aware of what was happening?

    ¡°With a fork...I, no, that demon made me do it. We were eating cheesecake in our hotel room and once the screaming started...oh my god. It was with my own hands...I stabbed Bianca so many times. But I didn¡¯t want to. I swear I didn¡¯t,¡± Leila rambled.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Rodrigo muttered, the leash on his fury fraying by the second.

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    Had her voice always been so grating, or was the pounding in his head inflaming everything else? ¡°Bianca¡¯s dead! How she died doesn¡¯t matter! Now get the hell out of here before you get yourself and my sister killed, you stupid¡ª¡±

    Calm down and stop looking at him,¡±

    Rodrigo forced himself to take a breath and pulled his gaze from the enemy hiding in his brother¡¯s skin. Once he saw Leila¡¯s shuddering face, her eyes bleary and tear-soaked, he felt like an unbelievable prick. There were a lot of people to blame for what was happening. She wasn¡¯t one of them. ¡°Leila, I¡¯m sorry. Just, please, go back to the car. Save yourself and Raquel.¡±

    Carlito¡¯s body, the knife still not a centimeter away from his throat, flit past Rodrigo before he could react.

    No. This couldn¡¯t happen. No matter what, Rodrigo wouldn¡¯t let it. He had his hobbies, but he never had any real passions or aspirations in his life. Protecting Raquel and Carlito was it. Watching them grow and learn and live. That was the basis of his existence. He¡¯d slaughter anyone who tried to take that from him.

    Rodrigo sheathed his sword and moved forward. Jezebeth stiffened, her grip on the knife tightening. She watched with a flicker of amusement as he walked past her and stood protectively in front of Carlito¡¯s body, glancing around at the empty air. ¡°Leila. I get it, okay? A demon comes into your body, uses you as their puppet, and does things you never would have imagined. K-kills people at the drop of a hat. If anyone understands that infuriating feeling of powerlessness, it¡¯s me. And as much trouble as Resent¡¯s been, there¡¯s no doubt you had it ten times worse. But killing my brother? That¡¯s not going to solve anything.¡±

    In a fit of madness, Rodrigo wrapped his hands around Carlito¡¯s neck. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you!¡±

    ¡°Do it,¡± Jezebeth purred, Carlito¡¯s eyes shifting from green to that all too familiar demonic red. She was dropping all pretense, trying to goad him into murdering his own brother, and loving every second of it. As Rodrigo¡¯s grip loosened, his arms falling impotently to his sides, Jezebeth wheezed a laugh. ¡°Of course not. You see, I was downright studious when it came to this brat and the girl¡¯s memories of you. I now know you better than anyone alive. And the big brother I know would let everyone else die before¡ª¡±

    Jezebeth coughed roughly, covering Carlito¡¯s mouth with his hand. When she pulled the hand back, it was smeared with blood.

    ¡°The brat...f-fighting back,¡± Jezebeth said through clenched teeth.

    ¡°I won¡¯t let you use me like this!¡± Carlito screamed as he momentarily wrenched control from Jezebeth. ¡°Get out of my head and stop hurting everyone!¡±

    No! Don¡¯t encourage him,¡±

    ¡°What are you¡ª¡± Rodrigo¡¯s heart threatened to give out on him as he saw the veins throbbing all over Carlito¡¯s face, blood trickling out of the corners of his eyes, his nostrils, mouth, and ears. This wasn¡¯t anything like his and Resent¡¯s mental tug of war. Holding Jezebeth back could be the death of Carlito.

    Rodrigo turned to Misery and slumped to his knees, doing away with any sense of pride as he bowed his head into the snow. ¡°Tell her to get out of Carlito¡¯s body and I¡¯ll do anything you want. Please, sir. He¡¯s the most innocent person here.¡± His voice cracked as warm tears streaked his frozen cheeks. ¡°Please, he¡¯s my baby brother. Please, your majesty.¡±

    Rodrigo shot up and bound Carlito¡¯s arms together with the nebulae. ¡°Carlito, it¡¯s okay. I¡¯ve got you now. I¡¯ve got you. You can stop fighting her.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too late,¡± Resent said, in almost a whisper. ¡°His sensory faculties are already failing.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s mind was running a million miles a minute, scrambling for something, anything, to stop this waking nightmare. ¡°Go into his body.¡±

    What?¡±

    ¡°Possession! You¡¯re the prince, aren¡¯t you? The rightful king? So go into his body and push that psycho bitch the hell out!¡± If Resent could pull that off, then Carlito should be able to regenerate the¡ª

    Carlito staggered forward and fell against Rodrigo¡¯s shoulder, his small body wracked by breathless sobs and convulsions. The blood was now oozing out of every visible orifice. ¡°Bro, are you there? I¡¯m so scared. I can¡¯t see you.¡±

    Rodrigo wrapped his arms around him so tightly, he might be hurting him, but he just needed his brother to know he was with him. That he loved him more than anything or anyone in this world. ¡°I¡¯m right here, Carlito. It¡¯s going to be okay. Your big bro will handle this, like always.¡± ¡°RESENT, DO SOMETHING, YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!¡±

    I-It¡¯s not that simple.¡±

    ¡°Bro. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re there...but I love you. And Raquel. And Mom. And Jett. And...¡± Carlito¡¯s mouth continued to move, but his words became too quiet to decipher.

    Rodrigo fought to breathe, his heart jack-hammering inside him as Carlito grew stiller in his arms. ¡°Okay, okay, okay. Jezebeth, what do you want, huh? Anything you want, anything, and I¡¯ll get it for you. You say you know me so well? Then you know my word¡¯s worth something.¡±

    Using his chin, Carlito weakly pushed his body away from Rodrigo so he could look up at him. Jezebeth¡¯s red eyes were there, but they didn¡¯t focus on his. She was as blind and deaf as Carlito. And yet, as if she could sense his desperation. As if she could hear his silent prayers to any deities willing to listen, she began choking with high-pitched laughter.

    The sound rang through Rodrigo¡¯s skull, until her eyes faded back to Carlito¡¯s light green, which stayed open even after the rest of him went completely still.

 Chapter 31 â€“ Rage Awakened

    The scream that tore its way out of Rodrigo¡¯s throat as his brother died in his arms was one of the most wretched sounds Resent had heard in his 431 years. The cries of tortured souls in their death throes paled by comparison. Resent watched through Rodrigo¡¯s watery eyes as the nebulae binding Carlito¡¯s arms behind him dissipated, and they dropped limply to his sides. The boy made every effort to revive his brother, from shaking and slapping at him, to more thought out, equally futile attempts, like using his sword to cut open his own palm and forcing the blood past his brother¡¯s still parted lips. Resent would have explained that regeneration wasn¡¯t transferable, and that even if it was, it was too late. But then, with a sudden callous acceptance, Rodrigo let Carlito¡¯s corpse slip from his embrace and sink into the white fluff at his feet.

    ¡°

    Rodrigo slashed at Misery¡¯s eyes with the sole remaining spike on his broken blade, but Misery caught his wrist and crushed the bones in it so thoroughly that it resembled loose flesh. If the boy felt any pain, he masked it well, refusing to drop his sword as razor-sharp nebulae erupted from the point where the blade had fractured. Misery cocked his head to avoid being impaled by the branching darkness, and Resent saw the curiosity in his former mentor¡¯s gaze ebb away, and be replaced with a detached, lethal calm.

    Misery clouted Rodrigo on the temple with the back of his fist, and the boy¡¯s entire body whirled from the blow as his sword flew out of his grip. He hit the ground in a daze, the blood leaking from his forehead staining the snow red. The usurper¡¯s strength was certainly a cut above the average demon¡¯s, but it wasn¡¯t on a par with that of Resent¡¯s in his own body, or even that second-rate conqueror, Xanthos¡¯. It was his nethntine gauntlets with the bolts over the knuckles that made his punches dangerous.

    Now that Misery was through toying with them, Resent tried to take control, but in that irksome way that spoke of his dual-heritage, Rodrigo prevented it. He was barely holding his torso up with his battered hands as black spots started to overtake his vision.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Resent roared. ¡°I don¡¯t care whether you deluded yourself into thinking you ever actually stood a chance, or if you intended to die here as some form of atonement. I allowed you your tantrum, but you will sabotage me no further.¡±

    Just then,

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    At the sight of her, the boy appeared to come out of his murderous rage. He had fallen into despair surrounded by the dead, dying, and injured, and in his regained clarity, it seemed to dawn on him just how outclassed he was. ¡°Raquel, that¡¯s the King of Hell. Get out of here!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care who he is. I won¡¯t just run away and let him kill my family,¡± Raquel said. To Misery, she stammered, ¡°I¡¯ll g-give you one chance to turn around and leave, you...you gorilla, or next time, I¡¯ll shoot to kill.¡±

    Perfectly composed, Misery strode toward Raquel, sword in hand. Summoning an admirable amount of courage, she fired off shot after shot at him. Using the flat of the blade, he blocked each one that neared his face with a flick of his wrist. Even with the leisurely pace he was moving at, the gap would be closed in seconds. And then all it would take was a single slice to cleave her in two.

    Tear him apart,¡±

    ¡°No half-dead Brute to trip me up and save you this time,¡± Resent growled.

    With his free hand, Misery didn¡¯t strike him or try to break free. He merely reached up and touched one of the obsidian gemstones on the crown.

    The scenery changed from the storm to an oval-shaped chamber with pools of dark boiling water on either side about twenty feet below the ground. A few feet away was a long row of steps that led to the throne. It was an uncomfortable-looking thing, sculpted in the image of the skull of their liberator, the diavolik that bore three horns, and the basis for the crown. The same insignia was present in some form on the attire of every member of Dreadmus¡¯ military.

    Because of the brain damage he was still regenerating from, Resent¡¯s understanding was delayed until he recognized the symbol directly underneath himself and Misery. The ruler¡¯s private portal. To instantaneously return to this exact spot in the throne room, no matter your location. He had only seen his father use the crown in such a way a handful of times. Nonetheless, he should have anticipated this.

    Misery punched Resent in the throat, knocking him off. This was maddening! He still wasn¡¯t accustomed to being so feeble. In all his decades sparring with Misery, he could always overpower him at close quarters. Using a blade had been the one reason he could challenge Resent.

    ¡°A fitting setting for our final confrontation,¡± Misery mused, a note of self-pity in his voice as he rose to his feet. ¡°Right where you assassinated him, and I was nowhere in sight to stop you. In truth, neither of us is a worthy successor, failures that we are.¡±

    ¡°You still cling to this fallacy that I committed patricide?¡± Resent asked, eager to keep Misery talking so his own wounds could heal. ¡°And assassination? Have you ever known me to engage in such cowardice? No. Unlike you, I¡¯ve always taken the direct approach to my battles.¡±

    ¡°As I told you before, there were several witnesses who swore even under the most rigorous torture that they saw you disposing of your father¡¯s corpse. It has been fifteen years. Take responsibility for your actions at last, you filth!¡±

    Resent scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s no secret I would have been thrilled to kill Strife, but another stole the opportunity from me. I never had any reason to lie about this and your insistence to the contrary proves one of two things. Either your unrequited adoration of my father has made you irrational, much like I¡¯d expect from a human. Or, you disposed of him in a way specific enough to incriminate me and pull off this grand scheme of yours that landed you on the throne.¡±

    ¡°I was nothing until your father found me!¡± Misery barked. ¡°Just another low-class demon with an aptitude for violence. To even entertain such lunacy shows the lack of comprehension you had for our relationship.¡±

    ¡°Even if I had killed him, who are you to condemn me? Whether blood-related or not, many a demon has killed their predecessor to succeed them. Rarely has it been considered a crime. If it were left to the council¡±

 Chapter 32 â€“ Fallout

    impressiveamazing

    Raquel, it¡¯s just me,¡± Jettsaid, his voice thick with grief as he stared past her and down at Carlito. His right arm was hanging loosely at his side.

    ¡°Why are we still alive?¡± The groggy question came from Adena, who was walking toward them, unsteady.

    ¡°Not all of us are,¡± Jett muttered. Then he turned to Adena, his features twisting in such anger that Raquel knew she had slept through something divisive. ¡°You know, I warned Rodrigo that you were sketchy the night we first met. I told him that this whole demon hunting bullshit was for crazies and bound to get someone killed. He didn¡¯t listen to me, of course. Ruy sees a pretty face and wants to forgive the owner of all her sins.¡±

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    Adena sighed like she was the most put upon person in the world. ¡°Is this rant getting around to a point, or are you just looking to vent? I told you, Jezebeth showing up ruined everything I was working toward. Now, maybe we should get indoors before the rest of you catch hypothermia in this¡±

    ¡°No! People are dead! A kid who never did anything bad to anyone in his life is dead because he trusted you!¡± Jett spat, veins bulging in his lean neck, as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Carlito¡¯s body. Noticing him for the first time, Adena inhaled sharply, and Jett continued, ¡°Because you wouldn¡¯t trust anyone with the truth, we got blindsided, so now you owe him and the rest of us better than some half-assed explanation.¡±

    ¡°He died fighting,¡± Adena said, her eyes still on Carlito.

    ¡°What?¡± Jett asked.

    ¡°The hemorrhaging. It¡¯s the telltale sign of a human opposing a demon¡¯s control over them. If he hadn¡¯t done that, and Misery had killed him instead, Jezebeth could have just jumped into one of us next.¡±

    Raquel felt a hollowness spreading through her, like this was all happening to someone else. Their conversation had her so lost that she couldn¡¯t even form the questions that needed to be asked. Instead, her mind latched onto something Jett had said. ¡®People are dead!¡¯ As she wandered off, it didn¡¯t take long to spot Leila flat on her back in the snow, a knife sticking out of the center of her chest. She was wearing a creepy gold mask Raquel didn¡¯t recognize. The wound was bloody, but...shouldn¡¯t there be more?

    Jett and Adena were still arguing, so Raquel yelled, ¡°Both of you shut up and come here!¡± By the time they reached Raquel, she had a bittersweet smile on her face, having confirmed it. ¡°She¡¯s alive.¡±

    As if Raquel¡¯s word wasn¡¯t good enough, Adena knelt down and placed her fingertips on the side of Leila¡¯s neck. Her eyes widened, and she had the beginnings of a smile. Then with her enviable strength, she scooped Leila up in her arms. ¡°We need to find a hospital. The knife¡¯s staunching the wound for now, and I can cauterize it on the way so that she doesn¡¯t bleed out, but there¡¯s no way of telling what internal damage there is. She¡¯s lucky. The illusion of the mask must have thrown Jezebeth¡¯s accuracy off by just enough.¡±

    When Adena finished, she took Jett¡¯s place in the driver¡¯s seat, and he went in the back with an unconscious Leila. The reek of seared flesh was trapped with nowhere to go since they couldn¡¯t risk opening any windows and having the demons sense them. Still, they were all used to the stench of death at this point. Adena used the GPS to find the nearest hospital, which was twelve blocks away. Raquel hoped the doctors there were still alive. The farther they went, the more danger Leila was in.

    ¡°So, is someone going to tell me where Rodrigo is?¡± Adena asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Raquel said. ¡°He...Resent was on top of the king, looked like he had him, when they both vanished.¡±

    ¡°Did Misery touch his crown at all?¡±

    Raquel had been on the edge of a full-blown panic attack at the time, so it was only when Adena mentioned it that she recalled that tidbit. ¡°I saw him put a finger or two on it. Why?¡±

    ¡°I needed to confirm that they transported back to Hell. Specifically, to the castle in the capital. I¡¯ve heard that the crown can do that.¡±

    Raquel bolted upright in her seat. ¡°Wait, what? Why do you sound so calm about that?¡±

    ¡°Because in the best-case scenario, Resent¡¯s killed Misery, and we don¡¯t have to do a thing. The worst-case, Misery killed him, and we lost our best asset. What¡¯s most likely, though, is that Resent¡¯s been imprisoned like Misery planned from the start. That leaves us with time.¡±

    ¡°None of us are in top shape. We don¡¯t have to¡±

    ¡°Tell me how to get there and I¡¯ll go myself! I already lost one brother to a demon. I won¡¯t leave the other to rot in some cell surrounded by them!¡± And when Raquel saw Misery again, she would take far more than a chunk of his ear.

    When Adena pulled to a stop, they only knew they were in the right spot because of the GPS. The entire hospital building had been knocked onto its back as if struck by a natural disaster. Shiny broken glass and debris everywhere. Bloodstained snow blanketed the shapes of the dead. Nothing living could be seen. An absolute waste. The priceless minutes spent getting here ticked away from Leila¡¯s life.

 Chapter 33 â€“ Welcome to Hell

    When Rodrigo¡¯s eyelids cracked open, the first things he saw were bones of various sizes and shapes beneath him, illuminated by pale blue torchlight streaming in from above. All around, in a circle, were decaying stone walls. He tried to rise to his feet and groaned. Stripped down to his underclothes, his wrists and ankles were shackled to the wall at his back, leaving him with little mobility. But that wasn¡¯t the worst of it. The shackles weren¡¯t simply there to restrain him. He could feel them now, biting into his skin with what felt like rows of tiny fangs, somehow draining his blood more rapidly than he could regenerate. Keeping him weak and the nebulae unresponsive.

    ¡°As you can see, inessential movement is not recommended in your predicament. The more you strain against the fetters, the faster they will consume, and the feebler you will become.¡± The warning came from overhead.

    Rodrigo tilted his head back. Past a rusted iron grate a few meters above, Misery stood with his face cleaned of soot, and his left ear completely healed, looking down at him. He was so disoriented that he hadn¡¯t even recognized the demon¡¯s distinctly resonant voice.

    Rodrigo licked his chapped, dry lips before speaking in a rasp, ¡°Where are the others?¡±

    ¡°Leave us,¡± Misery ordered, and several pairs of armored feet stomped away, slamming a steel door behind them. ¡°Fortunately for you, no one else was killed after you lost consciousness.¡±

    No one else? So Carlito and Leila, two people he had naively sworn to protect, really were dead. He was just reconnecting with Leila, but during their short time together, he had already been reminded of why she remained such a bright spot in his memory. Why even after more than five years apart, he still cared more for her than the myriad of faces he saw daily at school. It was almost scary how much of an effect that girl had always had on him.

    And yet, when it came down to it, he had been prepared to kill her if it meant protecting his brother. The thought of Carlito stolen from him, all that wonderful kid¡¯s potential, hopes, and dreams, snuffed out on the whim of this remorseless bastard before him, should have had Rodrigo struggling against his binds and spewing curses until he was breathless. But he didn¡¯t have the vitality for anger, and he had no delusions of snapping chains made to imprison demons.

    ¡°Do you know where you are?¡± Misery asked.

    ¡°If this isn¡¯t Hell, then I don¡¯t know what is.¡±

    ¡°The dungeon in Dreadmus¡¯ castle, to be exact. Were I to kill you now, Resent¡¯s soul would drift into another vessel, and the hunt for him would begin anew. This is where you will remain until my necromancers can devise a method of removing and containing him somewhere he can no longer inconvenience me.¡±

    ¡°And then I can die, right?¡± Rodrigo heard the plea in his own voice that he was too listless to disguise, and supposed it made sense. More so than a world where a defenseless ten-year-old became a casualty of a supernatural war, anyway.

    ¡°Is he awake?¡± Misery asked.

    ¡°Are you?¡± Rodrigo asked. Resent¡¯s silence spoke for itself. ¡°Why does it matter?¡±

    ¡°Because what I have to say will only complicate circumstances further if he overhears. So, I ask once more, is he awake?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now, do you recall when I said I had a theory about you? Since bringing you to Hell, it has been all but confirmed.¡± Misery paused for a long moment, then stifled a laugh. ¡°Apologies. This is all merely so...how do the humans call it? Ironic?¡±

    Rodrigo had no clue what the king was referring to, so he waited.

    ¡°Tell me, Rodrigo, since this all began, do you still feel like one of them? A human, crawling along the ground too feeble to put up any true resistance. Or, rather, do you feel powerful and filled with violent impulses that are becoming increasingly difficult to control? Have you started to accept yourself as one of us?¡±

    ¡°If this is the part where you tell me you¡¯re my father¡ª¡±

    ¡°Come now, you are cleverer than that. Or at least you should have the potential to be. You see, King Strife never showed much interest in carnal desires. For all the centuries I knew him, I can count the females he bedded on a single hand. However, shortly before his death, a slave girl caught his fancy. She was fairly intelligent by human standards, and I suppose, pleasing to the eye, yet it still surprised me when he allowed that young woman to return to the human world, pregnant with his progeny. And, you, resemble her greatly.¡±

    Rodrigo was suddenly feeling a bit more energized. He wanted to believe he was being manipulated, but what would the king have to gain by telling such a lie? His mind scrounged for something, anything, to disprove Misery¡¯s claim, but all he could find were reasons that supported it. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying Heinrik came to me because I¡¯m...¡±

    ¡°Because you are half-demon, half-human. In a word, cambion. That and Resent¡¯s agnate brother.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you want to kill me even more, then?¡± Rodrigo asked, self-preservation giving way to bewilderment.

    ¡°With Strife¡¯s blood coursing through your veins, you are rightfully royalty, yet the narrow-minded aristocracy would never allow a half-breed to rule, and therefore you are of no threat to me. Though I failed with Resent, I will train you and mold you into something your father could be proud of. It is his lineage, not you, that I wish to keep alive.¡±

    Rodrigo kept his face neutral, biting back the humorless laugh that wanted to burst out at the ridiculousness of the idea. Was it carelessness, a mind-blowing amount of arrogance, or a warped understanding of human nature? Maybe for a being who had lived for centuries, a bond a decade old was like the blink of an eye, and the one responsible for severing it should be easily forgiven.

    If Misery wanted to grant him the opportunity and skill to avenge his brother, then so be it. He would learn from the king, as Resent had, and follow his every command. No matter how cruel, or degrading. No matter how horrified and ashamed Carlito would be to see such atrocities committed for his sake. His fealty to the king would never be in doubt, the most loyal pawn, the right-hand man...until years, or even decades from now, when he had the strength to inflict twice as much pain and fear as Carlito had died in. Rodrigo would prolong Misery¡¯s suffering for every life he took in his name, and then, finally, he would carve his still-beating heart out of his armor.

    ¡°Yes, clever, indeed. So few of mankind grasps the value of quiet,¡± Misery said, and from his knowing smirk, Rodrigo knew his revenge fantasy would never come to fruition. ¡°Of course, I would never repeat the mistake with you I made with Adena. As she went to great lengths to prove, that would be hazardous to my health. No, I think when the necromancers go rooting through you to extract Resent¡¯s soul, it should be simple enough for them to...remedy your memories. I shall have them discard your human life, and imbue, not merely obedience, but an undying devotion to me, as I had for your father.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s throat felt like it was closing, and for the first time since waking up, he was afraid. There was a small, selfish part of him that wouldn¡¯t object to a mind-wipe. To losing the good, the bad, every experience that made him the person he was, if only to escape the endless torment of Carlito¡¯s last moments. The echo of Jezebeth¡¯s dying cackle in his body. But that would be like denying his brother had existed at all. An unacceptable betrayal to Carlito, and a fate worse than death for himself.

    ¡°You know, your majesty, I would have thought someone slaughtering millions over the death of a single demon would know better. No amount of brainwashing bullshit is going to make me your puppet, because what you stood by and let that psychotic bitch do? It¡¯s seared into my retinas. The sound of her laughing as he died, unaware I was even there with him, is pounding in my head. And the smell of his blood on me stands out from every other irredeemable piece of trash, like you, that deserved it.¡± Rodrigo¡¯s words were strangled, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to break the skin. Rage, more suffocating than the heat in this pit, punched through him, overpowering his fear, exhaustion, and self-loathing. ¡°So don¡¯t mistake our having a civil conversation while I¡¯m chained up as me turning the other cheek. Because mark my words, the first chance I get, I will wipe you the fuck out.¡±

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    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure what sort of reaction he wanted or expected from the king. Disappointment, anger, maybe even the slightest hint of apprehension? But instead, Misery studied him with a perplexed frown. ¡°Does your wrath cloud your sense, or do you truly believe I have done all I have for vengeance alone?¡± At Rodrigo¡¯s uncomprehending expression, Misery shook his head and walked out of sight. ¡°Flanked by Hell¡¯s prince and its greatest living assassin, two founts of knowledge of our world, yet neither chose to enlighten you.¡±

    It was like he hadn¡¯t heard beyond Rodrigo¡¯s first sentence. ¡°Are you deaf? We¡¯re past the point where I give a shit about your mot¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough infantile bluster!¡± As a lever creaked nearby, and the grate above Rodrigo¡¯s head parted, both halves sliding inward, he grew quiet. When Misery reappeared, he stepped over the edge of the pit and dove in. The ground trembled as he landed mere feet away from Rodrigo, the bones of the dead fragmenting under the soles of his sabatons. As Misery gripped the red-wrapped hilt of the sword on his back, Rodrigo felt fear worm its way past his fury. Down to his skivvies, chained to the wall and unable to even stand, he was like a penned pig waiting for the butcher. Was the king taking him at his word and executing him to save himself a future threat?

    In a single motion, Misery ripped his sword free of its sheath and slashed downward. If Rodrigo hadn¡¯t heard the clank of steel striking steel, he might have thought he was already dead, and his mind was just seconds behind. But, no, for whatever reason, Misery had cut the chains from the wall, freeing him. Before Rodrigo knew what he was doing, he was moving, slamming the nebulae against the ground, desperate to escape the pit. He¡¯d only risen a few feet in the air when Misery yanked him back down to earth by the remnants of the chains still dangling around his wrists. He landed on his feet with a grunt, the impact surging through his legs.

    ¡°Allow me to alleviate your ignorance,¡± Misery said, sheathing his sword. Then, while still holding Rodrigo¡¯s chains in his fist, he used the index finger of his other hand to touch the obsidian gem left of the crown¡¯s center horn. Their surroundings changed abruptly. They were in a large, oval-shaped room, standing over the symbol of the tri-horned demon that seemed to be plastered on everyone from Dreadmus¡¯ army like some sort of deity.

    ¡°What just happened?¡± Rodrigo demanded.

    ¡°To return to the throne room at will is the privilege of the one who wears the crown. Now, come,¡± Misery said, pulling him along by his chains. As the king led Rodrigo past the skull throne, and through a doorway to its right, he considered his options. The chains had stopped draining him after Misery had cut them and he could feel his strength slowly returning. Maybe he could slice through the chains with the nebulae while Misery¡¯s back was to him. But then what? He didn¡¯t know the first thing about the castle¡¯s layout. He could escape Misery only to run into some guards who saw no reason to keep him alive. Still, going down fighting was better than the alternative.

    As Misery dragged him up a flight of spiral steps and into the open air of the roof, the first thing Rodrigo noticed was the heat. Bad as it had been in the pit, it was easily over 100 degrees Fahrenheit up here. He¡¯d seen the red sky in Resent¡¯s memories before, but what he saw now, as he peered over the parapet, shocked him to the point that it halted his half-baked escape plan of parachuting off the roof. ¡°Is that...a moon?¡± It was a blood red sphere hanging in the distant sky. He wasn¡¯t exactly on the road to a theology degree, but he¡¯d never heard anything about Hell having a moon. Were they on another planet? Mars?

    ¡°Not a moon. Your moon. Even in your time it is reddening with rust, and with the changes to the atmosphere and the constant fires ravaging this land, the sky has long since come to match.¡±

    Rodrigo blinked, looked back at Misery to search his face for some sign that he was lying. ¡°My time? What are you saying?¡±

    ¡°Has it never struck you as odd how some of the most prominent demonic races align so perfectly with how you humans have always envisioned us? Imps, ogres, and the like, with their odious countenances, conform so much better to your simplistic views of evil than a mere man who rapes and carves up children for sport. This is because true demons do not exist. Eons ago, as the earth devolved into chaos and infighting, the artificial intelligence you were all so fascinated by at the time failed to advance quickly enough to meet the ever-changing demands of warfare. And so, to mitigate the loss of human life, a new breed of soldier was engineered.¡±

    Rodrigo was beginning to understand, but all he could do was gape stupidly.

    ¡°Beings that were powerful, long-lived, and that their arrival on a battlefield would inspire such dread, mortal soldiers would loath to confront them. In the demons, humanity created a superior life form to fight their battles, but were wise enough to embed unwavering deference into their genetics. That first generation of demons were simpler creatures, both in intellect and ability, and would have killed themselves if one of their creators requested it.¡±

    ¡°Wait. But diavoliks. They¡¯re...you¡¯re nearly identical to humans.¡±

    Misery smiled. ¡°Yes. Always overreaching, some scientist or the other likely decided to be adventurous and breed with one of their pet demons. Thus, the tri-horned demon, the first diavolik, and technically a purer cambion than you, was born. To not have killed him outright, the humans must have seen this as the next step in evolution, and in a sense, they were correct. But because of his human half, the tri-horned demon lacked the compulsion for obedience his fellow demons were ingrained with, while also having the ability to command them. He led the demons against their masters, all while humanity continued to war with itself and destroy the planet around them. Eventually, he was victorious, eradicating the majority of humanity and enslaving the survivors, as they once did us. And the tri-horned demon, the alleged progenitor of your bloodline, became the first ruler of this war-torn earth we call Hell.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s head was throbbing. He would have massaged it if his hands weren¡¯t bound. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying Hell is actually just my world¡¯s future?¡±

    ¡°In a sense. But that implies you live in the present. You see, your world did not even exist until a breed of demon, all but extinct now, opened portals that led into the past of ours.¡±

    ¡°What was the point in that if you weren¡¯t going to fix what went wrong? Couldn¡¯t you have stopped this place from becoming Hell?¡±

    ¡°You misunderstand. Essentially, your world is merely a ghost of ours. Nothing that happens there impacts our present. One of your party questioned how I could justify my actions. Everyone you know and love, as well as every human currently dying at the hands of my army? Your grief and empathy is wasted on them, as they have all been dead for countless millennia.¡±

    The weight of those words hit Rodrigo hard enough to make him stagger. Was knowing this why Resent and Adena were so indifferent to death? Were they actually trying to protect him and the others by keeping the truth from them, or did they just not want to deal with the fallout?

    ¡°And as for why those portals were opened? It was long before my time, but the answer should be obvious,¡± Misery said, thrusting a gauntlet-covered hand out to their surroundings. ¡°This oppressive heat on a winter night. This land, largely barren for as far as the eye can see. Droves and droves of monsters who can think of little beyond violence. Humans all but destroyed this world, birthing us into it just in time for us to feed on the scraps. In that case, successors to humanity that we are, why are we not entitled to enjoy the earth at its zenith? Be it years or decades into your future, the self-destruction of their species is imminent. Why then should I stand by and allow them to take the planet down with them a second time?¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s dwindling anger began to rise, as he glared up into Misery¡¯s white eyes. ¡°So, what? You¡¯re telling me my brother died over crimes the human race hasn¡¯t even committed yet, while you¡¯re some kind of tragic hero trying to save the world from our selfishness? Give me a goddamned break! Apparently your army hasn¡¯t gotten the memo, either, because they¡¯re out there burning and destroying everything in sight.¡±

    ¡°True. My goals are beyond the understanding of some. Many, having adapted to the harshness of this world, have no interest in yours beyond as a target for pillage and destruction. But the reality is, there is little the millions of demons I sent there could do that will damage the earth as severely as the billions of humans did themselves during the 21<sup>st</sup> century of your calendar.¡±

    ¡°Why tell me any of this? It doesn¡¯t change a thing,¡± Rodrigo said, looking away, because it changed everything. In the increasingly unlikely event of Misery¡¯s death, the demons had a legitimate grudge against humankind and would never stop coming. Even if by some miracle they did, without intervention, humanity was as likely to destroy themselves within his lifetime.

    ¡°You may have lived alongside them, yet you were conceived in this very castle, and our blood runs through your veins. So, perhaps, if anyone, I imagined you might understand. I hoped you would be capable of looking beyond your animus for me and at the larger scope, like I know your father would have. Unfortunately, you are so disappointingly...human.¡±

    The blow to Rodrigo¡¯s head came so fast and suddenly that he was on the ground bleeding before the pain even reached him.

    Seeing the darkness of unconsciousness was closing in on Rodrigo, Misery released the chains, letting them rattle to the stonework at his feet. ¡°But do not fret. I shall salvage your world, even if I must stamp out every last phantom of man on it to do so.¡±

 Chapter 34 â€“ Deranged Field Trip

    It was the third hospital Jett and the girls visited, Brooklyn Methodist in Park Slope, that was finally in working order. There was a small platoon of army soldiers posted outside the round emergency room entrance and around the building¡¯s perimeter, but these weren¡¯t the grizzled veterans found in war dramas. Most of them looked fresh out of high school, and even in their fatigues, gripping assault rifles, seemed only slightly less scared than the average person.

    With the demons having passed through the area without bothering the hospital, Jett might have believed it was under divine protection. But exposing that thought for the pipe dream it was, the Baptist church on the corner across the street had been reduced to a pile of brick, metal, and glass, almost as if to taunt the faithful and say, ¡°Your God is powerless against us.¡± The hospital was teeming with injured, crying, and screaming people who hadn¡¯t been able to escape the borough. The understaffed doctors, nurses, and volunteers were working furiously to help as many of them as they could, though some were beyond saving.

    Jett was in the beige and tan room they had placed Leila in. There were two other patients packed in there with thick blue curtains separating them from each other. At first, since the frizzy-haired Dr. Romano saw how Adena had sealed Leila¡¯s wound with expert precision, and the medical monitor read her vital signs as noncritical, he wanted to bump her down to, ¡°as soon as possible.¡± But once Adena explained a knife had been flung and buried up to its handle in Leila¡¯s chest, she was rolled out of the room on her bed for a CT scan.

    Since then, despite their emotional and physical fatigue, neither Jett nor Raquel managed to get much sleep. With the second death in their family in under twenty-four hours, he had been trying harder than ever to reach his dad and brother more than 1500 miles away. And for it to be Carlito, the youngest of them, and the one with, perhaps, the brightest future. He always felt like the kid was the only sane one in their family of hotheads and prospective mental patients. For him to be murdered by a demon...no plan God could have justified his allowing such a thing. Allowing any of this, really.

    With his right arm in a cast and sling, Jett was sitting on the floor, since there weren¡¯t enough chairs to go around. Between track and fights at school that seemed so pointless now, he had broken his fair share of bones. Like this one, it always hurt badly for the first week or two, even through the numbing haze of pain medication, yet all the things he couldn¡¯t do while the injuries healed bugged him more. And what a time for his dominant arm to be rendered useless.

    Disproving his working theory that she was an android, Adena had started slipping into microsleeps, with her phone in hand. Now and then she would slump in her seat, and her eyes would slowly flutter closed for a few seconds before she jerked upright, refocusing on the screen. He had a whirlwind of questions brewing, but since they couldn¡¯t exactly speak freely with so many people around, he let her get whatever rest she could.

    Jett watched as Raquel paced the small space like a claustrophobic, the long black ponytail she had pulled her hair into, bouncing relentlessly. She was still wearing her pea coat, fidgeting with the holstered gun on her hip underneath it as she seethed. He was getting worried she might start waving her pistol around if the wait persisted much longer.

    It didn¡¯t help that the suicide mission Raquel wanted them to embark on was to save Rodrigo as soon as Leila was taken away for surgery. If it wasn¡¯t for knowing his cousin would come for him were their fortunes reversed, Jett wouldn¡¯t even consider this deranged field trip to Hell. Honestly, he wouldn¡¯t be going at all if Adena hadn¡¯t caved to Raquel¡¯s threats of going solo.

    Rodrigo and apparently following in his footsteps, Raquel, seemed to go loco whenever the other was in danger. Jett¡¯s strongest memory of that tendency of Rodrigo¡¯s came from way back in fifth grade. They had been playing UNO with their clique like they usually did at lunchtime. All sorts of sugary snacks were being gambled and being one of the better players, Rodrigo should have been cleaning house. But he wasn¡¯t putting any thought into the game that day. It was when two of their school¡¯s biggest kids came into the cafeteria that Rodrigo laid his cards on the table and picked up his unopened chocolate milk carton.

    Usually when there was a fight in the lunchroom, kids went nuts, chanting, ¡®fight, fight, fight!¡¯, or took advantage of the chaos to start throwing food or swiping tater tots from the Styrofoam trays of the distracted. Once the milk carton went off like a bomb in Andrew¡¯s face, and his friend, whose name Jett couldn¡¯t recall, tripped over the spill, no one really knew what was happening. Rodrigo was known for being laid-back, so to see him hulk out without any build-up left everyone shaken and confused. It took three burly security guards to pry him from the battered boys, and the whole time he was repeating, ¡°Touch my sister again and I finish it!¡±

    It was only through gossip Jett learned the two had been bullying, a seven-year-old Raquel, because she liked rough-housing, and playing with action figures instead of dolls. How Rodrigo¡¯s dad, Edward, got him off without time in juvie or assault charges, when both boys were hospitalized, no one seemed sure. Rodrigo himself drew a blank on the whole event, even calling Jett for clarification on why he had been suspended. After that, everyone walked on eggshells around Raquel and Carlito, at least for as long as Jett was in grade school.

    It was natural to want to protect your family, but in the recent incident, Rodrigo would¡¯ve beaten that man to death if Jett hadn¡¯t stepped in. Actually, since they left him out in the street hurt so badly, with his friends dead...he probably didn¡¯t make it. The messed-up part was, more than anything, it made Jett question the strength of his bond with Geo. Could he go that far? Take another person¡¯s life if his brother¡¯s depended on it? And even then, now that Carlito was dead, Jett had the feeling Rodrigo would do far worse so long as it meant Raquel got to live another day.

    Minutes later, Dr. Romano came back into the room, his lab coat swishing behind him. ¡°Sorry for the delay. I have some bad news about your friend.¡± Jett braced himself for the newest addition to his mental graveyard. ¡°The x-rays disclosed the knife was thrown with enough force and velocity to cause heavy internal bleeding on impact. Normally, we would proceed with surgery immediately, but...it¡¯s a delicate operation that could take hours, and would require several surgeons. Y-you have to understand, with how many patients are coming in, we have to prioritize them by their odds of survival.¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Raquel growled. ¡°Do you have any idea how much time we¡¯ve wasted coming here and sitting around waiting for you to help her? And now you¡¯re saying you won¡¯t even try? The life of a seventeen-year-old girl¡¯s not worth your effort?¡±

    Then Jett unconsciously uttered words he doubted ever worked on any female in history. ¡°Raquel, calm do¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡± she hissed. He didn¡¯t respond. There was no point arguing with a grieving thirteen-year-old.

    Adena sighed. ¡°Listen, Doctor, while I can respect the efficiency of the triage system, and it¡¯s not like I¡¯ve known this girl long, I have invested my time and energy in keeping her alive. So, tell me, how much do you make in a year?¡±

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    ¡°W-what?¡± Dr. Romano asked, jarred by the shift in conversation.

    ¡°Your annual salary,¡± Adena said as she fished into her jacket for a brown leather wallet.

    ¡°This hospital doesn¡¯t take bribes, young lady.¡±

    Adena took out a black card and twirled it in her fingers. ¡°Well, off the top of my head, I believe the average salary for a physician in your field is around $300,000 right now. Quite a nice sum. If you¡¯ve been prudent, surely enough to put little Adrian through college when he comes of age. But, if you can save Leila¡¯s life, I¡¯ll pay you twice that, and maybe after this all blows over, you can go on that vacation to Venice your wife, Clarice, has been pushing for.¡±

    Dr. Romano blanched, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Jett cringed at the subtlety of the threat. The way Adena made blackmail seem like generosity. When the doctor left without another word, Jett felt bad for the guy. He was just doing his job in an impossible situation.

    ¡°Were you planning to get this specific doctor or something?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Social media was the death of personal privacy.¡± Adena held up her phone, flicking between the profiles of the entire Romano family with a finger. ¡°Okay, are you two ready?¡±

    ¡°Raquel, are you sure you¡¯re up for this?¡± Jett dared to ask. ¡°You¡¯re a good shot, yeah, but these are demons. And I¡¯m pretty sure Ruy would rather I hog-tie you before letting you go.¡± Also, if anything happened to her, Rodrigo would probably try to kill him, and he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d try too hard to stop him.

    ¡°Uh-huh. Remind me, of the three of us, who actually took a piece off Misery?¡± Raquel gawked at them both with mock surprise before slowly raising her hand.

    Adena groaned. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ve waited enough. The storm¡¯s stopped, and the sun¡¯s already coming up.¡±

    They left the room, quietly closing the door behind them, and took the elevator downstairs. Pushing their way through the crowded lobby, they left the building and got into the car. For all its security features, Adena¡¯s fancy SUV didn¡¯t have a trunk, and Carlito¡¯s body was stretched out on the bench in the back, now covered by a white sheet. With Raquel riding shotgun, Jett was left to the rear-facing seat, right across from the empty husk that used to be his cousin. And as they drove away, he couldn¡¯t fight the sinking feeling that they would all be joining him soon.

    They had been driving through the snow-blanketed streets for a while, a somber silence descending on them in the presence of Carlito¡¯s corpse. Jett loosed a deep, steadying breath, glancing over his shoulder at Adena. She looked younger and less standoffish since she had washed off her smudged eye makeup in the hospital¡¯s bathroom. But it had also been concealing the dark circles under her eyes. Further proof she was running on fumes. ¡°So, care to share this brilliant plan of yours, or are you just enjoying keeping us in suspense?¡±

    ¡°Why are you assuming there¡¯s a plan?¡±

    Jett¡¯s eyes bulged, and he considered snatching the steering wheel out of her gloved hands, until he heard her scoff at his gullibility. He had a low tolerance for snarky antisocial types on a good day, so he had to beg God for patience before speaking again. ¡°In case you forgot, your need-to-know way of doing things ended with us getting our asses kicked by two demons. Two. And now, like lunatics fresh out of the asylum, we¡¯re going to their home turf, with less than half the people we started with. So, I don¡¯t care how much of a brainiac you think you are, you need to fill us in.¡±

    Adena regarded him in the rearview mirror for a long moment. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±

    ¡°For starters, where are we even going? I mean, I know where we¡¯re going, but how do we get there?¡± Now that the enormity of what they were attempting was dawning on him, Jett refused to say the word, like it would give the place even more power.

    ¡°Spread throughout our world, typically in secluded locations, are symbols etched on the ground and walls, invisible to the human eye,¡± Adena explained. ¡°When these symbols come into contact with demonic energy, a portal opens, connecting our dimension to Hell. The closest I know of is under the Spiral.¡±

    Raquel¡¯s head whipped toward Adena. ¡°Hell¡¯s Spiral from my neighborhood?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s one of the demons¡¯ main portals and not far from the capital on their side, which is why I said Brooklyn would get hit hardest at first. A lot of the rumors you probably grew up hearing about that tower are true.¡±

    ¡°Wait, if it needs demon energy, how do we use it without Resent?¡± Jett asked. ¡°Are we taking a hostage?¡±

    ¡°We might¡¯ve had to resort to that if I hadn¡¯t gotten my scythe, Leech, back,¡± Adena said. ¡°Misery confiscated it for more than just the strength it gives me. Somehow, he discovered I was moving against him and wanted to make traversing between the two dimensions without an escort harder for me. According to demonic legends, Leech is part of a set of twelve weapons, the Primeval Armaments. Each one belonged to one of the first six higher demons and one of the first six angels.¡±

    Jett choked on a breath, jolting forward in his seat as he dared to hope. ¡°Hold up. Do angels really exist, or is it just part of the legend?¡±

    ¡°Oh, they exist all right. The only reason we could stay relatively safe at my mansion, and then the warehouse, is because I bartered with the fallen angels for a bit of their radiance. When concentrated, it acts as a temporary demon repellent. Though, I¡¯ve yet to see an angel that still has their wings.¡±

    ¡°So, where are they? Why are they letting the demons massacre people?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I wouldn¡¯t count on them showing up to save the day. From what I¡¯ve learned, they¡¯re not quite as invested in humanity as the pious would like to believe,¡± Adena said, and suddenly Jett wished he hadn¡¯t bothered to ask. ¡°Anyway, the twelve armaments aren¡¯t just unique for being the oldest functional weapons in existence. They¡¯re...alive, in a sense. The common belief is that they¡¯re imbued with some small part of their original owner¡¯s life energy. And that¡¯s why even eons later, they¡¯re still able to open their former owners¡¯ respective portals.¡±

    ¡°If these things are so ancient, how did you get one?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°My father stumbled upon it when he was...no, that doesn¡¯t matter now. The point is, the weapons change in appearance based on their owner, making them nearly impossible to track. That is, until you¡¯re holding an unclaimed one in your hands, and hear its voice in your head. For Leech, as the name implies, it demanded a third of the blood in my body at the time.¡±

    ¡°If you got it back, didn¡¯t you get off easy?¡±

    ¡°The blood loss was nearly significant enough to make me slip into a coma, but in hindsight, you¡¯re right. That¡¯s why I¡¯m convinced Leech is on the low-end of the spectrum.¡±

    When Adena stopped a short distance from the Spiral, though the chain-link fence that once surrounded it had been trampled down, the rusted black tower still stood tall, the stairs coiled around it, like a serpent ready to strike. On the few occasions he came there with Rodrigo, Jett had always found the old metal structure vaguely creepy. It seemed like a place that might attract tourists, or at least be a popular hangout for teens, craving escape from their helicopter parents. But they never saw anyone else there. Now he knew why. Right underneath the spot where they would admire the view was home to countless demons. And everyone in their right mind subconsciously picked up on that.

    A disgusting squelching sound pierced the unnerving quiet. Jett¡¯s mouth went dry as his eyes fell on something he had privately dropped to his knees and prayed to never see again. He gaped at the narrow back of the twitching creature, the hand Adena had incinerated regrown, as it crouched over a dead imp and intently picked through its bloody entrails.

 Chapter 35 â€“ Die!

    ¡°Y-you both see that demon, right?¡± Jett whispered, as they got out of the car. That Raquel was staring at it, too, her pistol already in hand, killed any hope that he was hallucinating. Being half a block away, the creature seemed far enough that they could talk normally, but he wasn¡¯t willing to risk a reunion with it. It had been their first real demon and if Adena hadn¡¯t shown up when she did, there was a good chance it would have killed them all. Though from a giant man-eating toad to the king himself, they had encountered worse at this point. That¡¯s what he was desperately trying to convince himself of, anyway.

    ¡°That thing isn¡¯t a demon,¡± Adena corrected. ¡°I don¡¯t know the specifics, but it used to be a human, until a necromancer experimented on him. Its lingering memories are probably why it¡¯s been hanging around here since before¡ª¡±

    In one horrifyingly swift motion, the creature spun, hissing at them as it sprang to its full height. Despite herself, Raquel jumped, squeezing the trigger without taking aim, and firing a few rounds off into the snow, burning holes through it.

    ¡°Jett, the key¡¯s in the ignition and my wallet¡¯s in the glove box,¡± Adena said quickly. ¡°Head back to the hospital.¡±

    Regardless that he only had one good hand, and wasn¡¯t even an experienced enough driver with both to have a learner¡¯s permit, Jett had to resist the temptation to thank God and listen. ¡°Uh, why?¡±

    ¡°With your arm, you¡¯re only going to slow us down. Besides, someone should be here for Leila on the off-chance she survives.¡±

    Raquel seemed unsurprised. Did they bring Jett just so he could drive the car back and prevent it from getting stolen or destroyed? Was this why he still knew so few details about the plan? If that was the case, then he couldn¡¯t help thinking the girls were absolutely mental. Adena looked ready to keel over any minute. Back in the hospital, he had seen her drink at least three cups of black coffee. She¡¯d probably been awake for even longer than he had, and he was approaching forty-eight hours.

    As the creature launched itself at them, Adena brought her scythe into her hands in a burst of flame. Charging his body up with green electricity, Jett darted ahead of her. He stopped short, sending an electric current at the creature, somewhat paralyzing it.

    ¡°Go, you two!¡± Jett barked in that garbled voice, still foreign to his own ears. ¡°I¡¯ll keep this thing busy.¡± He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

    ¡°Don¡¯t play the hero, idiot! You¡¯ll get killed, too!¡± Raquel yelled.

    Jett was grateful for the crackling electricity masking the shame and terror on his face. The same terror that had made him shrug off Adena¡¯s warning about the invasion, and shut down Rodrigo¡¯s suggestion that they, ¡®chip in.¡¯ He had been so sure that he was the sensible one of the three. So secure in his belief that nothing severe enough would happen that the military couldn¡¯t contain it, and if it did, it wasn¡¯t his problem. And then, while he was playing some stupid video game, those wolf demons had broken into their home and ripped his mom apart. In those precious few seconds between their howls and her heartbreaking shriek, he had frozen, forfeiting the chance to even try to protect her. To show her he had the power to protect their family.

    Jett swallowed the growing lump in his throat and ignored the sting of tears. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m not saying I can win, but you guys have the tougher job. If me playing the decoy saves you some energy, that¡¯s what I¡¯ll do.¡±

    Adena studied him for the briefest moment, then turned on her heel. ¡°Don¡¯t overdo it.¡±

    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Raquel snapped. ¡°It¡¯s three-on-one!¡±

    ¡°This is his choice. Respect it.¡± Adena continued toward the arch at the tower¡¯s base. The arch had to be fifty to sixty feet high, and easily wide enough to accommodate even the most massive demons he¡¯d seen so far.

    Raquel gritted her teeth and started following Adena, then turned back to face him. Sorrow and rage battled for dominance in her dark brown eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t die, Jett. I¡¯ve...we¡¯ve all lost enough.¡± Jett was glad she ran off without waiting for any promises, because they would be worthless.

    Regaining full control over its muscles, the creature screeched as it sprinted at Jett, faster than he¡¯d ever seen its spindly legs carry it. He thrust a hand out to shock the creature, but it ducked, slashing low and raking its three-inch claws across his left knee. Pain exploded through his leg as he fell into the snow, wailing in agony. He was only saved from a killing blow because the creature shocked itself in the process and staggered away.

    ¡°Jett!¡± Raquel screamed, doubling back, pistol raised.

    Adena reached out, grabbing her by the arm, and pulling her along. There was a faint red glow, then the two of them vanished.

    Jett wasn¡¯t sure whether Adena knowingly left him there to die, or actually believed he could handle it. Either way, now it was just him and the once human demon. No, that didn¡¯t matter. The person this used to be was gone. All that was left was an abomination, and to grant it death would be a mercy.

    Electricity hugging his body, Jett rolled out of the way of a vicious stomp that would have crushed his skull. He stood with a wince. As if his steadily bleeding knee wasn¡¯t bad enough, his sling had come off in all the accelerated movement. If not for the Tylenol a kind nurse had given him earlier, the combined pain of his injuries might have made him faint. Jett knew his wounded knee wouldn¡¯t support him while running, so making a break for it wasn¡¯t an option. But that was fine.

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    The creature stalked toward Jett, who was hobbling back as quickly as he could.

    ¡°Take this!¡± Jett yelled as he shot a bolt of electricity from his good hand. The creature showed no interest in the electricity that blew past it, raising its claws for the coup de grace. Then, defying the laws of physics, the bolt reflected off a wall in the distance, boomeranging back, and striking the demon from behind. The creature screeched and scratched its smoking spine hard enough to peel off skin.

    Jett knew this would be his only chance before the creature realized how badly it had crippled him. He focused the electricity at the tail-like appendage sprouting from his electric armor¡¯s backside. When he had seen those beasts sinking their fangs into his mom, already dead by the time he managed to get downstairs, as if the tail had fed off his revulsion, it electrocuted the six of them in one fell swoop. The sixth, had been on top of him and slashed his face before being vaporized.

    Now, the tail lashed out like a whip, wrapping tightly around the creature¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Die,¡± Jett muttered, as the electric current coursed through the creature and it began convulsing. It had all started with this monster. Seeing its carnage in that damned house, and the way it nearly killed Rodrigo, planted fear in him so deep that he had hesitated when it counted most. And he was sick of living in fear. ¡°Die,¡± Jett growled, as the tail nourished itself on his hate, increasing the voltage. The creature collapsed to its knees, now at eye level, screeching and clawing at the tail, only speeding up its imminent death as the skin on its gnarled hands charred faster than the rest of it. ¡°Die!¡± Jett roared, and the surrounding traffic lights flickered, then short-circuited, giving him more energy than he could generate on his own.

    But when the creature¡¯s arms drooped to its sides, almost as if resigning itself to its fate, in its bloodshot eyes, there was a flicker of humanity. Like the man it used to be was finally at peace. And for a split-second, Jett paused, relenting. That was all it took for the creature to disregard the danger to itself, and reach up to give the tail a violent yank. Jett lost his footing and went skidding forward.

    As exhaustion took hold and his protective layer of electricity deserted him, he could see his knee had been sliced open to the bone. The tiny amount of courage he had drummed up, when he told the others to leave this to him, was gone. All that remained was the hope that if they were still alive, his dad and Geo would forgive him for getting killed over a selfish grudge.

    The half-dead creature crawled over to Jett, reeking of burning flesh and hair. On its long, gaunt face, there was none of the amusement, or hunger, from when it had knelt over Rodrigo. Only fury as it aimed its claws at Jett¡¯s throat. In a guttural, broken voice, the creature hissed, ¡°Die!¡±

    As Jett stared up into the hollow-cheeked face of death, he felt strangely at ease. At least now he could finally rest. No more running, fighting, fear...or overwhelming guilt. He would leave this earth knowing he had done his best, and God willing, the girls would be able to save Rodrigo, if nothing else.

    Jett blinked against a beam of sunlight, as the creature lurched forward, close enough to bite his throat out. As he felt the warm spray of blood, the pain not even reaching him, he fixed his gaze on the sky above. It seemed brighter this morning than ever before, and he wondered if he¡¯d get the chance to beg his mom for forgiveness in Heaven. Maybe meet the absentee angels. That was assuming he wasn¡¯t turned away at the pearly gates. Intentionally or not, he had done serious harm. In self-defense, sure, but despite Rodrigo¡¯s and even Adena¡¯s clumsy attempts to downplay it, possibly as many as four teenagers had lost their lives when his powers first kicked in. There had to be consequences.

    ¡°You still alive, kid?¡± a gravelly voice asked from behind him. Jett craned his head to look toward its source and saw a tall man with multiple pale scars on his face marching closer. He was wearing winter camouflage, and in his gloved hands was a modern sniper rifle with a white finish.

    Too shocked to speak, Jett turned his eyes to the still creature sprawled out on top of him, its head resting in the snow beside his. There was a golf-ball-sized hole in the middle of its forehead. The blood that had splattered on him belonged to it. Jett was a bit disappointed he wasn¡¯t able to put the creature down himself, but he was just glad to see it dead, and even more glad to delay damnation a while longer.

    The man stopped in front of Jett, shoving the creature¡¯s electrically burned corpse off him with a hard kick. He cocked his head, staring down at it. ¡°Huh. Ugly bastard almost looks grateful.¡±

    Before Jett could see what the man meant, he pulled the trigger again, and again, and again, sending silent rays of dazzling light ripping through the creature¡¯s skull, one after another. When he stopped at last, the creature¡¯s head was an unrecognizable pulp. Under the man¡¯s pencil-thin mustache, his mouth curled into a small, satisfied smile as he admired his handiwork.

    When he noticed Jett watching him, the man wiped it away, slipping on a mask of neutrality, as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. He stretched out a hand to help Jett up. ¡°Always good to make sure with these things.¡±

    Jett grabbed the hand, and as he was pulled onto his feet, the pain in his knee flared up bad enough to make him gasp. The entire leg felt limp, and he had to shift his weight to the other one just to keep upright. He didn¡¯t know how he was going to make it back to the car, let alone to the hospital. ¡°Uh, thanks, sir, you saved my life.¡±

    ¡°No problem. I¡¯d been tracking that thing for a while, but I swear, it hopped around like it had a beehive up its ass. Your distraction kept it still just long enough.¡±

    Did that mean he had seen Jett¡¯s brawl with the creature? ¡°So, if you don¡¯t mind me asking, who are you? Are you a demon hunter or something?¡±

    ¡°Officer Gibson,¡± the man said absently, frowning at the arch at the Spiral¡¯s base, like he knew exactly where it led. Gun to his head, Jett wouldn¡¯t have guessed the man was a cop, and he wasn¡¯t about to ask to see his badge, either. The man seemed to take a certain pleasure in killing that was scarier than Adena¡¯s indifference. Officer Gibson refocused on Jett, and pointed at his knee, his pant leg soaked with blood. ¡°You should really wrap that up and get it looked at. Filthy as it was, that thing¡¯s claws are almost guaranteed to have infected the wound.¡±

    ¡°For sure,¡± Jett agreed. He took a few excruciating steps toward his dark blue sling, half-buried in the snow, before his knee gave out completely, and he collapsed. Oh, how he wished he was lucky enough to regenerate like Rodrigo.

    ¡°Christ, I didn¡¯t sign up for this,¡± Officer Gibson grumbled. Jett realized he must have painted a pitiful picture, crawling for the damaged, snow-covered bandage with a broken arm and shredded knee. But he was too exhausted to worry about his dignity. The hardened officer blew out a long breath. ¡°You want some help, kid?¡±

 Chapter 36 â€“ Best Laid Plans

    After dragging Raquel through the tower¡¯s arch, as was usual during the transport, Adena was left feeling like she had passed out, yet remained standing. When she regained her senses, she was nauseous and had a minor headache, temporary side effects that hadn¡¯t lessened in intensity since she first used the portal eight years ago. The demons claimed it was instantaneous, but even holding a stopwatch, her brief disorientation had always made it impossible to verify.

    The two of them were inside a vast underground chamber made of black stone. Down here, the air was especially stifling, though with the high temperatures she¡¯d trained her flames to reach, the climate didn¡¯t much bother Adena. Other than the portal behind them, its symbol in the image of Hell¡¯s alleged first ruler, visible on this side, and the torches along the walls, the space was empty. Ahead of them was an opening to a lengthy tunnel that led up to the surface.

    As if just remembering the danger she¡¯d last seen Jett in, Raquel ran back to the portal. After nothing happened, she eyed Leech, still in Adena¡¯s hand. ¡°We have to go back!¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Adena said firmly. She could tell Jett had noticed how bone-tired she was. How fighting the necromancer¡¯s experiment would have drained what meager strength she had left, delaying them hours more. But for whatever reason, it was also personal for him. ¡°He was scared, but he chose to pull his weight and fight. He didn¡¯t want us sticking around as a safety net. Live or die, it was his¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no time for lame excuses!¡± Raquel spat, leveling her pistol at Adena. ¡°I¡¯m done losing my family piece by piece. If you¡¯re not coming, gimme the scythe, and I¡¯ll go alone.¡±

    Adena¡¯s eyes narrowed, and Raquel shuddered, the gun in her hands, Flint¡¯s gun, shaking slightly. She knew the girl was being driven mad with grief, because the same had happened to her when she lost her twin. As much of a nuisance as Flint had been, since she¡¯d always been home-schooled to avoid the risk of revealing her Flair, he was the only person her age she saw regularly. In the vacuum his death had left in her life, she had become putty for Misery and Jezebeth to mold as they pleased, filling her naive mind with half-truths and turning her against her own.

    But surrounded by billions of demons, Raquel¡¯s overconfidence and trigger-happy attitude would form a noose for her. Adena herself had killed for less than having a weapon pointed at her. Far less. ¡°I realize you¡¯re not as quick-witted as Carlito was, but I think you know better than to shoot the best chance of ensuring your living brother¡¯s safety. I warned you about taking the time to rest and prepare. You wouldn¡¯t listen, and now that things are in motion, Jett will have to take care of himself.¡±

    Raquel¡¯s jaw moved, but nothing came out for several seconds. Eventually, she pulled back her garish pink coat and holstered her gun. ¡°What¡¯s in motion?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been in contact with the High Lord of Erodis, one of the six great cities,¡± Adena said. ¡°He¡¯s an old mentor of Resent¡¯s, and has been looking to rebel for as long as Misery¡¯s been on the throne. But he doesn¡¯t have the numbers for all-out war. We¡¯ve been using his Blight as a liaison to trade information since Resent¡¯s resurrection. According to the last text I received from him in our world, a carriage was going to be waiting here to take us to Erodis.¡± And she was counting on those priceless hours of sleep she would get on the ride there.

    Raquel blinked, then huffed a bitter laugh. ¡°You always sound so smart, but are you actually just a moron with a fancy vocabulary? Why would you be crazy enough to trust a random demon? I don¡¯t even trust Resent.¡±

    Despite Raquel¡¯s sass testing her patience, Adena had to respect the girl¡¯s skepticism. Maybe there was a little more between her ears than she gave her credit for. ¡°Good. Don¡¯t trust any of them. Trust in their self-interest. This high lord rules over the smallest of the great cities, and having Resent on the throne would only benefit him.¡±

    ¡°Whatever. I guess it¡¯s not like we have any better options,¡± Raquel said, glancing around. ¡°Anyway, where are all the demons? You said this is one of the main portals they¡¯re using to invade us, right? Shouldn¡¯t the place be busier than Grand Central?¡±

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    ¡°At this point, the demons who were going to invade already have.¡± Still, if they lingered there too long, they were bound to run into the stragglers trickling in or those returning early with captured slaves. Adena reached around her neck, unlatched her fade periapt, and stretched it out to Raquel. ¡°Put that on. Invited or not, if the demons see a free human wandering around, it¡¯s sure to cause problems. At least with that they can mistake you for possessed, or a shape-shifter.¡±

    Raquel lifted her brows, not yet taking the amulet. ¡°What about you?¡±

    ¡°Like you saw the other night, my status as a Blight is known throughout the great cities, so most demons will think twice before hassling me.¡± She pulled her mask out of her bag and slipped it on over her face. Even if the illusions it created weren¡¯t as effective against large numbers of demons, it made her instantly recognizable to many.

    After Raquel put on the fade periapt, placing it inside her shirt, they left the chamber and entered the tunnel. Walking through the broad passage illuminated by blue flames, they could see the debris, shattered weapons, spots of dried blood, and even the recently trampled skeletons of varying sizes that littered the tunnel. All left where it fell, to serve as a warning to those who would try to leave Hell without permission. After all, like many of the preceding rulers, Misery¡¯s original end goal was to inherit the earth before irreparable damage could be done to it, but not until mankind¡¯s technology was advanced enough to reverse the harm already done. Yet the royal agenda meant little to the average demon. Were they allowed to come and go as they pleased, the human race of old would¡¯ve been eradicated long ago.

    Intellectually, Adena knew earth was Hell¡¯s past. She¡¯d had years to move past the existential crisis that knowledge caused and come to terms with it. And yet, even if it resulted from the largest war the planet had ever seen, the invention of the demons, and the rising sea levels caused by the increase in heat and the melting of Antarctica¡¯s ice, she still found it difficult to believe it wasn¡¯t another world entirely. Because of the demons¡¯ success in erasing nearly everything of human origin that predated their creation, from their technology to their historical records, it was impossible to say how many thousands of years had passed since the 21<sup>st</sup> century. Regardless, that the remaining shrunken continents of the old world had somehow been crushed together like Pangaea, the supercontinent that broke apart 175 million years ago, was something the scientists of her time hadn¡¯t foreseen happening for at least another 200 million years. And that was one of the dimension¡¯s milder mysteries.

    It was about five minutes later when they came to the tunnel¡¯s end, reaching a spiral staircase. Unlike the ones from the tower, these steps were much wider, and there was no flimsy guardrail. When they got to the top of the steps, a large portcullis that led outside had been raised and waited in front of them. Adena was used to the hound-drawn carriages that Misery sent to retrieve her being in plain sight before even stepping through the gateway. Not being able to see the high lord¡¯s carriage put her on edge.

    She held a finger up for Raquel to wait, and hoped the girl wouldn¡¯t argue, or do anything to give away her presence. Normally, formidable guards were on either side of the gate, monitoring who came and went. They likely abandoned their posts given how much unregulated use the portal¡¯s been seeing lately.

    Adena raised her mask onto the top of her head and rubbed her eyes. Even caution was strenuous at this point. She stepped over the threshold to the outside, where a bright red sky hung overhead, as if the sun were setting despite the early time of day. The surrounding land was desolate, and far from civilization. Which was fortunate, because if the portals were in the cities, even under guard, the allure of an alternate world would¡¯ve attracted far more demons than the occasional stray.

    As Adena glanced to her right, she froze as blood-ringed orange eyes stared back. Not ten feet away, Verin leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed as he watched her with a smirk. With his speed and the element of surprise, he could have killed her the millisecond he saw her. But, no, like all that gaudy gold armor, still damaged and lacking the helmet from his fight with Resent, suggested, he wanted to be seen. And he wanted her to make the first move. All to give her a humiliating death for her part in his brother¡¯s demise.

    Without taking her eyes off Verin, Adena tossed her scythe far over Raquel¡¯s head, feigning panic that had long been ironed out of her, as she screamed, ¡°Run!¡±

    Verin¡¯s smirk faltered, proving he had been relying on his energy sense rather than listening for footsteps. As he dashed forward, curious to see who could be important enough to make a callous Blight risk her own life, Adena summoned Leech back to her with a thought, intending to bisect Verin at the waist by using his own momentum. But with as sluggish as she had become, her hands were too slow to grasp it. The scythe clattered to the ground.

    The counterattack came so fast, all Adena saw was a blur of gold before the world returned to darkness.

 Chapter 37 - Separation

    Rodrigo was in total blackness, sweltering in the enclosed space of the pit. He¡¯d long since given up trying to free himself of the replaced shackles. As Misery said, the more force you exerted, the worse off they left you, like a Chinese finger trap. Unfortunately, while relaxing was the best choice, it didn¡¯t allow you to slip out of them.

    In the time since he¡¯d regained consciousness, Rodrigo¡¯s thoughts had drifted from an all-consuming desire to flay the king alive, to all the ways Carlito¡¯s death might have been prevented. If he had never met Heinrik at the Spiral, he wouldn¡¯t have even been on Misery¡¯s radar. If he had been less distracted by Leila, he might have noticed something off about Carlito sooner. If Adena had been candid from the get-go, instead of constantly trying to manipulate him, they could have come up with a strategy together. If, if, if.

    Jezebeth¡¯s shrill laugh boomed through his head for the millionth time, and Rodrigo savagely slammed the back of his skull against the wall to silence her. Once, twice, and then the shackles worked their magic, guzzling his blood down at such a breakneck pace, it was dizzying. He was beginning to suspect she hadn¡¯t died with Carlito at all, but had moved on to possess him. It might explain why Resent hadn¡¯t made a peep all this time.

    Rodrigo still wasn¡¯t sure what to think about all the revelations Misery had dropped on him. From Resent being his brother, to the earth as he knew it just being some window into the past of this one¡¯s present. The knowledge didn¡¯t make the people there or their suffering any less real, but it did leave him feeling something very near hopelessness. He¡¯d thought the situation was black and white. The clearest demonstration of evil the world had seen since the Nazis. However, if the invading demons were time travelers, determined to take the world out of incompetent hands before its inevitable ruin, was there even a point in fighting against them? The future could be changed, but the past was set in stone. Wasn¡¯t it?

    As the overhead lid shifted, letting in a faint bit of light through the grate, Rodrigo squinted, his adrenaline spiking. He was expecting Misery, but all he saw were two diavoliks in blood-red plate armor and helms with short golden horns sticking out of the sides. Each one had a broadsword sheathed at their left hip and were the ones pulling the lid back. Floating between them was an imp swathed in black robes with a hood shrouding its face. In its small hands was an urn, similar to the one that had ruined Rodrigo¡¯s life, and he understood immediately. This was the necromancer, here to transform him into Misery¡¯s willing slave, and part him from Resent.

    As the lever creaked again, and the grate above Rodrigo¡¯s head parted once more, he closed his eyes, and took a series of deep breaths. Leathery wings flapped down toward him, and the warmth seemed to seep from the pit the closer the necromancer came. Then, as loudly as his hoarse voice would allow, he began chanting four simple words, as if to imprint them on his soul. ¡°Protect Raquel, avenge Carlito! Protect Raquel, avenge Carlito! Protect Raquel¡­¡±

    #

    Resent awoke to pained, high-pitched screaming in his own language. He refused to move an inch, not even opening his eyelids until he got his bearings. He was lying on a padded bench, inside a carriage being drawn at high-speed by four furiously galloping hounds. A sign of wealth, considering the standard was two. Hovering across from him, he could sense an imp, the source of the wailing. The torturer was concealing their presence, presumably with a fade periapt. Only then did it occur to him that this was the first time he sensed life energy since taking refuge in the boy¡¯s body.

    ¡°Make no mistake, little one, if this is a ruse, what you have endured thus far will seem pleasant in retrospect,¡± a silvery voice said. A voice as familiar to Resent¡¯s ears as Misery¡¯s.

    Resent¡¯s eyes snapped open, and he was staring up at an unexpectedly shabby wooden ceiling. It was the everyday carriage used by commoners, which the prince had seldom seen the interior of, unless traveling in secrecy. As he glanced down at himself, he inhaled sharply. He was dressed in ebony-and-gold royal attire, his frame much longer, and his skin fairer than the boy¡¯s was. If not for the reduced muscle mass, he might have believed he was back in his original body.

    ¡°Look, look!¡± the imp cried with joy. ¡°I did as you commanded! Now, please, my lord...have mercy.¡±

    Resent turned his head. With the loss of Heinrik, Ose, the demon he now trusted most was lounged across from him, his spotted tail strangling a battered imp garbed in bloodstained necromancer robes. As he remembered, the High Lord of Erodis wore no armor over his red fur, instead dressing in lightweight, loose-fitting clothing, a habit many once misread as arrogance. In reality, he was the only demon Resent had ever met that he would never want to face in hand-to-claw combat.

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    ¡°Granted,¡± Ose said, and with a flex of his powerful tail, severed the imp¡¯s head from his body before the immense relief could even leave his features. Spurting blood, the imp dropped to the carriage floor in two pieces, where a half-broken urn was rolling around. Seeing it, a memory tugged at Resent. He had briefly stirred some time earlier, as his soul was extracted from the half-breed. The boy had been muttering something on cracked lips, so quietly it was inaudible. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying and failing to contain the tears streaking down his filthy face, as Resent writhed against the necromancer¡¯s control, to no avail.

    ¡°Where is the boy?¡± Resent blurted, sitting up, and instantly wishing that hadn¡¯t been his first question. No demon partook in random acts of kindness, and unlike Heinrik, despite their centuries of history, the high lord was far too ambitious to be counted on for loyalty alone. To show...concern for his former host was a sign of weakness this predator would exploit.

    Ose¡¯s long whiskers twitched with barely suppressed amusement. ¡°I suppose still in the castle¡¯s dungeon. I never laid eyes on him myself. I ambushed the necromancer and his guards in the courtyard, taking the nearest carriage, and paying the hounds handsomely for their discretion. Why? Should I have rescued him as well?¡±

    And there it was. Dammit! There was little more the prince hated than indebtedness. ¡°How did you even know what had transpired?¡± Resent demanded, changing the subject.

    ¡°I see your Blight told you nothing.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Shortly after the Eckhart girl was assigned to follow Heinrik to the human world, she contacted me through my Blight. In the interest of dethroning Misery, together, they were to protect you until you recovered enough of your strength to defeat him, remedying the widespread belief that he managed to kill you in single combat.¡±

    Resent had several problems with what Ose said, but one word seized his attention. ¡°Widespread? How foolish has the populace grown in my absence? Hundreds of battles in the arena, often against far greater numbers. Not one loss. Yet they think me killed by a sword-wielding general?¡±

    ¡°Heinrik attempted to assert the truth, but the crux of the matter is that they wanted to believe it.¡± Ose¡¯s gray eyes were cold and penetrating, gauging Resent¡¯s mood. ¡°To be blunt, the army has largely tired of the aristocracy, and those like you, born into power. Say what you will of Misery, but even having Strife¡¯s favor, he did work his way up through the ranks, in a way unseen for millennia. Many a soldier can remember fighting alongside him in his youth, and having him serve as an inspiration to them. And now, he has acted on a long-held wish and temptation for many by permitting them to raid our forbidden past. For those soldiers, no better ruler exists.¡±

    Resent held back his torrent of obscenities. Unlike in human society, Hell¡¯s soldiers made up most of the population. Slaves did most of the labor, and trades were reserved primarily for the weak and withered. But were Misery¡¯s reign not in question, Ose never would have involved himself.

    Ose lazily combed his clawed fingers through the unruly hair on his pate, free of the rosettes that covered his pelt. ¡°Naturally, the council wants him eliminated. His triumph has had far-reaching consequences throughout all the great cities. Mutiny has become commonplace as every semi-skilled soldier tries to replicate Misery¡¯s success. Why aspire to be a general when you could be a lord, or even a high lord?¡±

    And yet, with Dreadmus already having the largest army, the high lords wouldn¡¯t dare an outright assault on Misery, and risk large portions of their own soldiers deserting, or worse, changing allegiance. Resent had to give the usurper credit. For one so unqualified, he had the overbearing council in check, and a chance to become a true autocrat. Honestly, Resent was tempted to let them annihilate each other as he amassed power and influence in Erodis. Southwest of the capital, it hid in the center of a labyrinthine jungle, in which unwelcome visitors tended to die. The city was filled with some of Hell¡¯s fiercest warriors, bestial in appearance, yet fairly intelligent, like Ose. More importantly, he felt weaker in this new body than in the half-breed¡¯s, and that needed to be rectified immediately.

    But as Resent was strategizing, something nagged at him. Something there were a number of rational explanations for, from the guaranteed to be occurring espionage to a far less likely stroke of fortune. ¡°Ose? How could you be certain Misery would not be at the castle to witness, or hear of your actions?¡±

    ¡°Simple,¡± Ose said, turning to Resent from the window he had been gazing out of, as the cobbled streets of Dreadmus blurred by. ¡°I gave him what any ruler would be helpless to resist. A traitor to be made an example of.¡±

 Chapter 38 â€“ The Arena

    When Raquel regained consciousness, she found herself in a cold steel cage, so cramped standing was impossible. Her hands were bound behind her back, but the demons hadn¡¯t bothered to take any of her stuff besides the necklace Adena had given her. She wasn¡¯t sure whether to count her blessings or be pissed off by how nonthreatening they considered her.

    The flickering torches lining the walls made for poor lighting, but Raquel could see Adena asleep in an identical pet-sized cage beneath hers. Her mask was gone from her head, and someone had taken the extra precaution of shackling her wrists and ankles to the cage. After Adena had gotten knocked out by Goldilocks, Raquel felt a sting across her cheek before she could draw her pistol. The last thing she remembered was the ground racing closer.

    Wherever they had been whisked off to, they weren¡¯t alone. There were several other people in cages around the vast cavern, and rows of cells jam-packed with demons of all kinds. A few demons were bickering among themselves, though most just awaited their fates, too chained up to do much else. Not long ago, the stink of so many unwashed bodies and their urine would have driven Raquel crazy. But now it was just another of the invasion¡¯s persistent foul smells.

    A female demon with alabaster skin, dressed from head to toe in form-fitting leather, sauntered into view. Above her eyebrows, ribbed horns protruded from her forehead, curving back and upward, ending in sharp points. With her full ruby lips and shimmering long black hair, she might have been beautiful, if not for the way her eyes, gleaming with bloodlust, raked over the prisoners. Some demons started hollering in their language as soon as they saw her. Raquel couldn¡¯t guess a word of it, but anyone could tell it was nasty. The demoness showed no concern as a giant, somehow larger than the one from the hotel, came stomping behind her, and any demon with half a brain hushed.

    When the demoness caught sight of Raquel and Adena, she broke into a shark-like grin, revealing vampiric canines. She shouted a quick order in Demonic, and the giant froze in place, stiff as a member of the Queen¡¯s Guard. Raquel squirmed in her cage, the hair prickling on the back of her neck, as the demoness drew closer.

    ¡°Relax,¡± Adena whispered from below. Raquel didn¡¯t even try to follow such a ridiculous suggestion. Especially now that Adena¡¯s usual poker face was replaced by an expression teetering between outrage and anxiety. She glared at the demoness squatting down in front of her cage. ¡°How did Verin know where to find us, Jezebeth?¡± The last word struck Raquel like a blow. Assuming the name wasn¡¯t the John Smith of Hell, Carlito had died for nothing.

    ¡°I see all those sleepless nights have made you delusional, Dena. Did you truly think you could get away with using one of the portals I introduced Lucas to back in the day?¡± Jezebeth¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Of course, a tip from a certain high lord helped narrow it down.¡±

    ¡°That two-faced leopard,¡± Adena growled, and Raquel had to swallow her, I told you so. ¡°Is Misery even concerned with how Ose learned my whereabouts?¡±

    Jezebeth was distractedly cleaning crusted blood out from under her nails with the arrowhead-shaped point of a short metal rod. ¡°Do you actually believe you¡¯re in any position to cry Judas? From what I heard, after you visited the overgrown feline with plans of regicide, he had his Blight monitor you to uncover any co-conspirators you may have had.¡±

    ¡°How noble of him,¡± Adena said dryly. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re buying that rubbish. He probably got cold feet after learning about Resent¡¯s capture.¡±

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    The silent giant came forward, the earth quaking with his every step, and scooped up Raquel¡¯s cage with his left hand, and Adena¡¯s in his right. Raquel was trembling. How pathetic could she get? She strong-armed Adena into coming here with her, and now she was more terrified than ever. Despite the circumstances, she wished so badly that Rodrigo was there with her. She¡¯d never admit it while he was in earshot, but even before the powers, her brother was the strongest person she had ever known. He didn¡¯t go seeking trouble, but when it found him, he adapted and dealt with it. Simply being around him made Raquel feel braver.

    And now Rodrigo was probably dead. Like Carlito, Auntie Emelina, and maybe Leila and Jett, too. That was on top of her parents. In the end, having a gun didn¡¯t make a lick of difference. Her family, friends, and she herself would all be ghosts soon. Raquel choked back tears, knowing that once that dam burst, plugging it would be no small feat.

    As they entered an open, better lit area, Raquel was struck with yet a deeper sense of hopelessness. The sky had turned an even darker shade of red, and they were inside what looked like an enormous Coliseum. The surrounding walls were at least fifty feet high and covered in small vicious spikes. Slightly above the highest point of the walls, was the audience. There must have been tens of thousands of demons seated on the carved stone benches, yelling, cheering, and laughing. Escape was impossible.

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    Faebor placed the cages on the ground, side by side, and ripped the locks from them with a pinch of his massive fingers. Digging through his ragged loincloth, he pulled out a rusty key and tossed it on the ground, then lumbered back through the cave mouth and down the passage he had taken them from.

    ¡°Raquel, I can¡¯t move,¡± Adena said. ¡°Grab the key, and free us while it¡¯s still an option.¡±

    Raquel made no move to leave her cage. It now seemed safer than the alternative. ¡°When does this nightmare end?¡±

    ¡°When we kill Misery.¡±

    ¡°Are you blind?¡± Raquel snapped, her voice breaking as she jerked her chin in the crowd¡¯s direction. ¡°We¡¯re not even going to reach Misery.¡±

    ¡°Look, I won¡¯t patronize you by saying everything will be all right, but we at least have a fighting chance. I painted myself in a far better light back in the mansion, but what I said about the arena was mostly true. Despite the odds, there have been survivors. If it was unwinnable, it¡¯d be boring for the spectators. And Misery made a big mistake letting me rest.¡± Adena¡¯s tone softened. ¡°Now, I need you to stay strong for just a little longer. Can you do that for me?¡±

    Raquel nodded wearily and crawled out of her cage. As she picked up the key, she was relieved to still have her gloves on, even if her hands were sweaty underneath them.

    ¡°All right, Dreadmus!¡± a deep voice announced with robust energy. ¡°Next up, we have an interesting pair of humans for you all. Under the rules of the arena, I will be using the contestant¡¯s language, so to those of you who have grudgingly refused to learn 21<sup>st</sup> Century English over the centuries, try to keep up.¡±

    As she unlocked Adena¡¯s cuffs one by one, Raquel searched for the source of the voice, expecting to see a demon with a megaphone. After a while, she saw someone standing on a balcony rimmed by spikes, too far away to make out any features other than the single long horn sticking out of his head. His hands were empty.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Amdusias. He¡¯s the announcer,¡± Adena said, doing light stretches now that she was free.

    ¡°Is commentary for fights to the death normal around here?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely. Methods of inflicting and glorifying violence is one of the few spheres where demons have taken some inspiration from humans. Blood sports are their main source of entertainment, and a great way to earn accolades. Amdusias happens to have a Flair tailor-made for the job. He can adjust the volume of his voice high enough to be heard by an entire city, or transmit it in a way that only those he specifies can hear.¡±

    ¡°Now, we hardly see any human adolescents in this arena since ordinarily they would make for dull competitors, but before you think these will just lie down and die, let me fill you all in on a crucial detail,¡± Amdusias yelled, dramatically lowering his voice by the end. The crowd of demons were waiting on the edge of their seats for his next words. ¡°As you can see, making a rare appearance, King Misery came here himself as soon as he heard these two had been captured. Not only that, but he handpicked their opposition.¡±

    Adena¡¯s eyes flicked to the side of the arena opposite of where Amdusias stood. Raquel followed her gaze. There, placed higher than any other, sitting on some sort of throne, was Misery. With the distance, his expression was unreadable, but he was staring down at them.

    ¡°For those of you who have never seen her in the flesh, we have Adena Eckhart, Blight of Dreadmus, with us today! Serving directly under King Misery since she murdered Dreadmus¡¯ first Blight, her father, Lucas Eckhart, she¡¯s killed hundreds, maybe thousands of her own kind. Recently, she discarded those eight years of faithful service, and had the audacity to try to assassinate our king.¡±

    Boos, threats, and hisses exploded from the crowd, but all Raquel could think about were the claims Amdusias just made. Adena had said her father was killed trying to avenge her brother, but if she had done it herself, why was she even coming after Misery? Raquel also wanted to ask if the number of people she supposedly killed was in the ballpark, though to some extent it had to be. The ease with which she had killed those aspiring car thieves yesterday didn¡¯t slip by her. She was just forced to overlook it because the Blight was a big part of the reason she and her family lasted this long.

    ¡°As a bonus, King Misery said the brat in pink actually had the nerve to stand her ground and take shots at him!¡± Amdusias yelled.

    The crowd grew even more hyped as they began screaming, looking down at the battlefield in anticipation.

    ¡°Now that we have all the facts, prepare yourselves! Will these young ladies earn their freedom, or will their blood soak into the dirt like so many other members of their frail species? Time to find out!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see it being anyone but Verin,¡± Adena said, and Raquel drew her pistol, determined not to be blindsided again. ¡°If he wasn¡¯t promised the chance to publicly humiliate me, he would have killed us back at the portal.¡±

    ¡°A Brute?¡± Adena muttered, observing the quieted crowd¡¯s confusion. ¡°No, the armor¡¯s similar, but...¡±

    ¡°And now, their executioner. A newcomer to the arena, he has been undergoing private training with the king himself since he was old enough to hold a sword, and like the royal guard, has sworn an oath to kill any who dare oppose him.¡± Amdusias paused for effect, and as Misery¡¯s protege got close enough for Raquel to see the whites of his eyes, then the hazel irises in their center, she nearly lost all control of her legs. Her heart felt like it was shattering. ¡°Dreadmus, may I present, the last surviving member of King Strife¡¯s bloodline, his youngest son, Wrath.¡±

 Chapter 39 - Wrath

    Protect the king, eviscerate his enemies. Those words echoed through Wrath¡¯s skull like an incantation as the audience let out a collective gasp in response to his lineage. More than anything, they were probably appalled by Strife having sired a cambion. If he cared at all about preserving his father''s legacy, a demon he never met, he might have attempted to hide his shameful human-half behind a fade periapt. But if his relatively limited skill didn¡¯t give him away, his round pupils certainly would. Besides, how magnificent could Strife truly have been if he was killed by his firstborn, Resent, a demon not half his age? And if Misery had single-handedly slain Resent, was he not superior to them both?

    Wrath stopped mere meters from his prey, staring them down through the slits of his helmet. Misery had warned that the Blight was not an opponent to be trifled with, yet her allowing him to get this close without attempting to incinerate him seemed amateurish. Still, seeing the initial shock in her cerulean eyes quickly replaced by steel, made him reassess her. But he almost pitied the smaller girl, her breath rasping in her throat as her firearm shook violently in her grip. Almost.

    Wrath raised his gauntlet-covered left hand and gave the speechless crowd the evidence they were so desperate for. Black nebulae swirled and crackled, coalescing into a near-perfect imitation of Misery¡¯s great sword, scaled down to better suit him. The blade was a contradiction. Weightless, and yet exuding an immense amount of pressure that seemed to be bending the surrounding atmosphere.

    ¡°Is that...it is!¡± Amdusias yelled. ¡°A blade crafted from the nebulae. One of King Strife¡¯s signature techniques.¡±

    Little by little, Wrath could feel the sword¡¯s presence draining his energy. Executing the two girls with haste would be best for all involved. He rushed the Blight and swung the sword at her neck with such speed that it was as if he were barehanded. Inconceivably, a scythe materialized in the Blight¡¯s hands, the curved blade catching his own nebulous generated one.

    ¡°I can only guess what Misery had done to you, but you need to snap out of it, Rodrigo,¡± the Blight said through gritted teeth, and Wrath¡¯s nebulae wavered, the edge blunting without his command. ¡°You trusted me more than anyone else, even when it could have cost you your life. I want to repay that trust...but I know you would rather die than hurt Raquel.¡±

    What? What was she blathering about? Wrath looked at the smaller girl, who he assumed was Raquel, and was baffled to see her firearm no longer aimed at him, but quivering toward the Blight. It gave him pause. As did his strength and speed, diminished from what they were even prior to his decade¡¯s worth of training with Misery. Even using both hands against his one, the Blight shouldn¡¯t have been able to block his blow. Was he ill? Impossible. Cambions were immune to human maladies. But then, the woman who bore him had been a captive from the past, as these two were, hadn¡¯t she? Not as durable or resilient as the modern subjugated humans. Could she have passed her vulnerabilities onto him?

    The Blight lashed out with a foot, as if to sweep Wrath¡¯s legs from under him, but even in his ruminations, the move was obvious. Yet in the split-second he glanced down, the scythe in her hands had changed position, small embers rising from it. The snath now blocked his nebulae, and the tip of her blade was under his chin. Of course! All that nonsense she had been spewing was just a ploy to drop his guard.

    ¡°You have the knowledge, but the muscle memory just isn¡¯t there, is it?¡± the Blight asked over the clamor of the furiously booing crowd. ¡°I imagine Misery got a bit overzealous, unable to resist the spectacle of having his newest pawn kill the old.¡±

    ¡°Adena, stop!¡± Raquel screamed, her firearm now firmly leveled at the Blight. The girl¡¯s pleading voice cut into Wrath like a dagger, and for the first time, he considered she might be the real threat. Perhaps she had an enfeebling Flair that Misery withheld to further test him. If so, Wrath¡¯s energy sense was just another casualty, because he couldn¡¯t use it to discover the truth.

    The Blight lowered her scythe slightly. And that ounce of mercy was her undoing. Dispersing his disobedient nebulae, Wrath swerved under her blade, and using the clawed fingertips of his gauntlet, slashed through cloth and her toned abdomen beneath. As she collapsed with a gasp, Wrath blew past her, barreling toward Raquel. The girl pointed her firearm at him, but couldn¡¯t pull the trigger before his right hand wrapped around her throat. He lifted her into the air so that he was staring up at her dark, terrified eyes, his claws digging into her soft flesh hard enough to draw blood.

    ¡°I won¡¯t shoot you, Rodrigo,¡± Raquel choked out, dropping her firearm to the ground, and Wrath¡¯s grip loosened. ¡°Because if I have to lose you, like Carlito, what¡¯s even the point anymore?¡±

    Wrath shook his head, as if to clear it of the sympathy addling his brain. This was simply because he had never killed one so young. So seemingly defenseless. Part of him wanted to request Misery spare her. Perhaps have her serve as a chambermaid, a much kinder fate than most humans in Hell received. But such thoughts were treacherous. Protect the king, avenge...who? The word had bubbled to the surface unbidden.

    No! This was all nothing but illusions and distortions. This girl, if indeed she was a girl, was a trickster, making a mockery of him when he needed to impress these savages, and earn a position on the royal guard. Only from there would he be able to take care of Misery. For some reason, likely this little witch¡¯s influence, the thought suggested malicious intent.

    Wrath could hear the Blight grunting behind him, as the reek of burning flesh wafted through the perpetually hot air. Cauterizing her own wound? For a human, her pain tolerance was incredible, but while she might save herself from bleeding to death, Wrath could crush Raquel¡¯s throat with a flex of his fingers. The image brought a wetness to his eyes, a sensation he couldn¡¯t recall ever having.

    Enough! She had to die. As his nebulae were unresponsive, Wrath drew his left hand back, knitting his claws together like a blade. He would rip straight through her heart and kill her instantly, sparing her any pain. He could hear the Blight sprinting closer, and the realization that she wouldn¡¯t make it in time to stop him made him want to scream. His hand stabbed forward.

    Then stopped as he staggered, dropping Raquel to the ground. Something had crashed into him with dizzying speed. He looked down, and saw the blade of the Blight¡¯s scythe inches from beheading him. She had frozen mid-swing, her hands trembling with exertion. Physically, he was unharmed.

    ¡°Is this the limit of your resolve?¡± a haughty voice asked in his mind. One Rodrigo, not Wrath, had never been more relieved to hear. ¡°And you have the gall to masquerade as my kin?¡±

    ¡°Resent,¡± Rodrigo said, already feeling the patchwork of cherry-picked memories transplanted to him by the necromancer, returning to their original owner. A false lifetime fading away, like waking from a vivid nightmare. ¡°H-how are you here? I thought that necromancer¡ª¡±

    ¡°Did away with me?¡± Resent scoffed. ¡°On the contrary, things were going swimmingly for me. An ally of mine even procured me an intact cadaver, so I had a body of my own again for a fleeting moment. We were among the spectators until I saw the miserable end awaiting you fools.¡±

    Despite the many questions and accusations Rodrigo had piled up for the prince in their time apart, all he said now was, ¡°Thank you. I wanted so badly to stop myself, even if it meant dying, but...thank you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well...¡± Resent seemed embarrassed by the heartfelt gratitude. ¡°If you ever decide to kill the brat, I figure it should be a choice of your own making. Not Misery¡¯s.¡±

    The mere mention of the king was enough to stoke Rodrigo¡¯s rage. The demon had taken Carlito and Leila from him. He made him uncertain of his own identity, then stripped him of it completely, reinventing him into someone else. Someone who nearly used his own hands to kill his sister. No. Rodrigo was beyond anger now. Every action Misery took was an education in pure, undiluted hatred.

    Rodrigo yanked his suffocating helmet off and tossed it aside. It wasn¡¯t just heavy and uncomfortable, it restricted his peripheral vision. But more than anything, it gave him the appearance of the monster he had been forced to behave like. He knelt down, feeling a surge of shame as he saw the bloody marks on Raquel¡¯s neck. It was far worse than what his drunken mother had once done. What he had self-righteously berated her for.

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    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Raquel,¡± Rodrigo said, tearing a piece of black fabric from his cloth fauld to tie around Raquel¡¯s wound.

    But she shrank away from his touch as tears rolled down her face. As much as that stung, her words cut deeper. ¡°A-Are you even really my brother?¡±

    ¡°I promise, Raquel, it¡¯s me. That...thing was¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant! That guy, the announcer, he said you¡¯re the son of some former demon king. Was that a lie? If not, what does that mean about our family?¡±

    Adena tapped Rodrigo¡¯s shoulder, and as he turned, he cringed, eye level with the more severe of the two injuries he had inflicted. For someone without her ability, that cut, now seared closed in a puffy scar, could have been fatal. ¡°Explanations will have to wait.¡±

    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Rodrigo said as he stood by her side, though he didn¡¯t feel an apology alone sufficed. ¡°Are you all right?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been through worse.¡± Adena wasn¡¯t looking at him, and at first, Rodrigo thought she might be as disgusted with him as he was with himself. But then the gate he had entered the arena through rose again. He had been so preoccupied with his warring emotions that he nearly forgot where he was.

    ¡°In an unprecedented turn of events, our young executioner has laid his own head on the chopping block!¡± Amdusias yelled, and the crowd jeered at Rodrigo like he had murdered their children. ¡°Taking his place, are the elite of the elite! Excelling at teamwork and each training for a decade with the king himself, they are some of Hell¡¯s deadliest soldiers! Ten of King Misery¡¯s personal guard, the Brutes!¡±

    Ten diavoliks in armor identical to that of the sentries from Rodrigo¡¯s imprisonment in the dungeon came forward, each armed with a broadsword and spear. Only now did he realize how closely his armor resembled theirs, like Misery had been grooming him to be one of them.

    ¡°What? He can¡¯t be bothered to fight us himself?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Precisely. He has no need to tarnish his blade with the blood of a half-breed and some humans. You could challenge him directly, and he would still be within his rights to send legion after legion until you all dropped dead.¡± Resent took control, and for once, Rodrigo welcomed it, feeling like a weight had been lifted off him. Resent swaggered toward the Brutes, as he ordered Adena and Raquel over his shoulder, ¡°You two, stay put.¡±

    The lead Brute yelled in Demonic, and the entire squad halted, spears pointed at Resent. The Brutes were in a wedge formation. There were two behind the one in front, three behind them, and four brought up the rear. They looked so self-assured.

    ¡°I see Misery is unaware of my return, or he never would have insulted me with your presence,¡± Resent said as he stretched his arms out, overlapping his left wrist with his right, fingers splayed. ¡°Your time training with him may have put you all a notch above the rabble. But I learned from him all my life. I¡¯ve long since been able to see through every idea that comes into those diminutive minds of yours. Minds that concluded forsaking your prince was wise.¡±

    The lead Brute¡¯s eyes widened, and he shouted in Demonic. In the next second, all the Brutes were converging on Resent. A spear came flying at him, but he caught the shaft with the nebulae, and hurled it back twice as fast. The spearhead pierced straight through the thrower¡¯s helmet and into his skull.

    ¡°Your entire regiment shall follow shortly, traitors,¡± Resent hissed, as the twister of darkness began in front of him, cutting off the Brutes¡¯ advance. It was immense, by far the biggest twister Rodrigo had ever seen Resent form. It nearly reached up to the beginning of the crowd and spun more violently than ever. With the nebulae, Resent rooted Adena and Raquel to their spots behind him.

    Resent let out a harsh laugh, as the screaming Brutes were sucked into the twister, and within seconds, hazes of blood and stray body parts were flung through the air, like the byproduct of a wood chipper. This impressive display of gore whipped the crowd into a frenzy, even more so when bits and pieces ended up in the stands. Demons wasted no time in fighting over the bloody souvenirs, or tasty morsels depending on their preference.

    ¡°I am Prince Resent, son of King Strife! Let all bear witness as here and now the usurper meets his demise at my hands in a reclamation of my throne!¡± Resent roared as his voice rose over the chaos, causing all the demons to fall silent in utter confusion. Then he looked up to where Misery sat, exactly where Rodrigo had seen Resent and Strife in the most recent dream. ¡°Enough of this farce, Misery! Do you intend to throw more fodder at me? Are you satisfied with forever leaning on your Brutes to give you the edge against me, general?¡±

    ¡°While it would certainly explain how this enigma wields the nebulae, could this truly be our prince?¡± Amdusias wasn¡¯t so much announcing as asking the audience for an answer.

    As if the demons needed no further clarification, a small chant in Demonic began to build in the crowd, growing louder with each repetition. ¡°Gliljh! Gliljh! Gliljh!¡± Somehow, maybe as an aftereffect of the memory transference, or just because it was the most sensible translation, Rodrigo was almost certain the guttural cry was Resent¡¯s name in their language. Clearly, the demons were divided because several of the brawls that had broken out in the stands escalated into Flair-fueled death matches.

    This went on for about a minute before Misery got to his feet and slowly clapped. The clanging of his gauntlets slamming against each other echoed through the arena, hushing everyone. ¡°If you truly believe yourself capable of defeating me without the aid of your human pets, so be it!¡± Then after removing the crown from his head and placing it on the throne, Misery vanished from sight.

    When the twister dissipated, Adena came over, visibly irritated. ¡°If he beat you when you were still in your own body, what makes you think you can take him alone now?¡±

    ¡°He won because I was careless,¡± Resent said. ¡°And so what, then? Am I to rely on a child whose presence will be more of a hindrance than a boon? You might make a difference if you weren¡¯t so haggard, yet even then, with all eyes on this battle, the only way I could ever be accepted as a suitable king is to destroy Misery with my own strength.¡±

    Adena¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Do you have any idea of the lengths I¡¯ve gone to? Just how long I¡¯ve waited for this?¡±

    ¡°Girl, I have been waiting for my chance for near as long as you¡¯ve been alive. Besides, from what I heard from our mutual ally, this was your goal all along. Giving me this opportunity is the reason I deigned to come rescue you. Now, unless you¡¯re planning to fight me before Misery, take the brat and clear the battlefield.¡±

    For a moment, it seemed Adena might take him up on that offer, but then she sighed. Walking past him, she said, ¡°You better not get killed again after all this posturing.¡±

    ¡°Wait, there¡¯s something Rodrigo should know,¡± Raquel said.

    ¡°No. Everything else can wait until Misery¡¯s dead,¡± Adena said, leading her away by the arm. Rodrigo doubted whatever Raquel had wanted to say was good news. For all he knew, Jett¡¯s absence could have a far more tragic explanation than a rational amount of fear.

    ¡°As much as I want this bastard dead, are you sure we can do this?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°There is no ¡®we,¡¯ in this fight. And before you argue, remember that all it took was one blow to bring you to death¡¯s door the moment Misery considered you a threat. If you wish to be helpful, keep your temper in check, and stay out of my way.¡±

    Despite knowing Resent was right, Rodrigo felt a selfish need for his pound of flesh. Whether he lived in this world¡¯s past or not didn¡¯t matter. Imperfect and cruel as it could be, it was the only world he knew. For Carlito, Leila, Emelina, and himself. For every human life lost or ruined because of Misery¡¯s invasion, Rodrigo craved vengeance down to the marrow of his bones. As he was thinking about what he could contribute to this battle, inexperienced as he was, it hit him. ¡°Could you create a sort of...smokescreen with the nebulae?¡±

    ¡°Yes, though without a fade periapt, executing one against a demon is pointless.¡±

    ¡°Thing is, that energy sense you guys have, I don¡¯t think Misery has it.¡±

    ¡°Of course he does. I¡¯ve seen him utilize it. Now, just shut¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, you shut up and trust me for once!¡± It was such a glaring Achilles heel that Rodrigo hated himself for not picking up on it the second Raquel managed to sneak up on the king. Not only that, but Misery apparently hadn¡¯t been able to determine that he was a cambion until returning to Hell, where he probably had one of his lackeys do the sensing. Or maybe Rodrigo was grasping at straws and his hunch would get them both killed.

    Resent clearly wanted evidence, but as part of the arena¡¯s wall, far under the throne, split open, and Misery stepped out, he kept any further questions he had to himself.

    ¡°I will now follow the king¡¯s command of ceasing commentary until the end!¡± Amdusias yelled. ¡°But who could have imagined that on this day we would all be treated to such a momentous duel? King Misery in single combat with Prince Resent...begin!¡±

 Chapter 40 â€“ Itâ€™s Time to Duel!

    In the center of the arena, the demon king ripped his sword free from the sheath under his cape and charged. Resent jumped straight over an oncoming slash, punching Misery in a blur. It was a normal punch, yet due to the gauntlets, it had enough force that it almost knocked the king off his feet.

    Misery backed away slightly, reaching up to touch the small lacerations the jab had opened along his chin. Looking at the blood on his own gauntlet while still keeping his sword at the ready, he smiled. ¡°Now, there is the Resent I trained. Not that whimpering mess too engrossed in denying his actions to focus.¡±

    ¡°I no longer see merit in debating the issue. Even if you saw reason now, your offenses are far too grave for me to continue tolerating your existence.¡±

    As Resent moved to close the distance, Rodrigo¡¯s attention fell on one of two clear gemstones embedded in the cross-guard of Misery¡¯s sword. It was lighting up a bright red. ¡°Watch out!¡±

    Resent reacted too late as fire burst from the black great sword. The prince screamed in anguish as scarlet flames engulfed his body, burning him from head to toe, and dropping him to the ground. He swatted at the flames with the nebulae as the skin on his face blistered, and the armor began to warp. But Misery wouldn¡¯t give him time to recover. With his entire blade combusting, he strode forward.

    Rodrigo took over, using the nebulae to replicate the curved sword he had for all of a day. With his right hand on the hilt and his left on the back of the blade, he scarcely blocked a slash aimed at Resent¡¯s head. On a single knee, the weight behind Misery¡¯s swing was almost too much to bear. He felt like his arms would snap underneath the sheer power, but with him constantly streaming energy into his sword, the more immediate concern was exhausting himself, and the nebulae dissipating. He bit down on his tongue to contain a wail as the pain washed over him, and pieces of burned flesh and hair fell from his still smoking body.

    ¡°Foolish boy,¡± Misery said, like Rodrigo was nothing more than a rebellious pupil acting out. ¡°Man¡¯s reign is over. Whether by my hand or their own, humanity¡¯s downfall is a foregone conclusion. All your victory here would achieve is damning the earth alongside them.¡±

    Rodrigo laughed weakly, or maybe cried. The pain was so severe, his mind seemed to focus harder than ever before out of desperation to stay conscious. And in that newfound lucidity, something dawned on him. ¡°You don¡¯t even realize.¡±

    Misery¡¯s blade froze in his hands, easing the strain Rodrigo was under. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°By launching this attack, you¡¯ve given humans the one thing we needed to keep our world from turning into yours. An enemy to hate more than we do each other.¡± On the edge of death, Rodrigo grinned up at the king through charred lips. ¡°After all, why wipe each other out...when we could destroy you instead?¡±

    Misery¡¯s white eyes were alight with fury as he redoubled his efforts to turn Rodrigo¡¯s bones into paste. ¡°Ah, I hope you enjoyed this brief freedom, Wrath. Because when I kill you, and place your soul in a demon body of my choosing, you will undergo far more rigorous testing before I cut you loose to hunt down your kith and kin. One. By. One.¡±

    ¡°My name is Rodrigo Beltran,¡± he growled, generating a chain from the crescent moon pommel of his sword, and willing it to coil around Misery¡¯s throat. ¡°And I remember making you a promise, you piece of shit!¡±

    He knew that wouldn¡¯t be enough, so he didn¡¯t waste energy applying much pressure. With Misery removing a hand from his grip, assuming he was preventing the nebulae from strangling him, Rodrigo got the desired effect. Lightening the load just enough, he shifted his body as much as possible before Misery could catch on. Rodrigo pried his left hand from the back of the blade, placing it lower, then teleported the hilt of the sword to it from his right hand. In the same instant, Misery¡¯s great sword struck his undefended torso, severing his right arm from his shoulder, and Rodrigo thrust his blade through the left side of the demon¡¯s chest. Misery stumbled backward as the nebulae dissipated, blood spilling down his breastplate from the stab wound.

    Though he had mentally prepared himself for the loss, Rodrigo gaped at his armored arm laying on the ground a few feet away from him as if it was a prop in a horror movie. He could hardly think as he gripped what couldn¡¯t even be called a stump, and shrieked.

    ¡°What have you done?¡± Resent asked softly.

    ¡°To send Misery to his grave...it was worth it. Besides, it¡¯ll regenerate.¡±

    Resent took over, winding the nebulae around the wound to keep the blood from pouring out, then stretched out for the arm. But it was gone.

    ¡°The poor child was fighting under the assumption that diavoliks have the same anatomy as humans,¡± Misery said, Rodrigo¡¯s arm skewered on the tip of his sword. As Resent reached for it with the nebulae, Misery¡¯s sword flared up, reducing the nethntine-covered arm to a puddle of molten metal. ¡°Had the boy been better informed on our evolution, he might have actually killed me. Such frightening potential...potential I intend to nourish.¡±

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Although Resent¡¯s desperation to retrieve the arm indicated a bleak reality, Rodrigo asked, ¡°It will regenerate, right?¡±

    ¡°In this body, I am unsure. Even if it did, it would cost us time we can ill afford. You¡¯ve crippled us for a nonlethal strike.¡±

    ¡°And whose fault is that? Seriously, since day one you¡¯ve been keeping secrets, like our survival doesn¡¯t depend on each other! I had to learn what Hell actually is from our worst enemy!¡±

    ¡°This is not the time for one of your tantrums. Stay out of¡ª¡±

    A bolt of green electricity came at Resent. In the nick of time, he defended himself with the nebulae and went skidding back along the ground. He came to a halt, with his back mere inches from the arena¡¯s spiked wall. The area where the arm had been amputated was mending shut. There were no signs of it growing back. Lengthening and remolding the nebulae already serving as a bandage, Resent formed a makeshift arm that connected to the shoulder. While it was out of proportion, both longer and beefier than Rodrigo¡¯s left, it was better than nothing.

    ¡°Are you ready to end this?¡± Misery asked as Resent stopped a short way away from him.

    ¡°I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Good. It is long past time.¡± Misery scraped the point of his blade along the ground and a line of electricity appeared. It darted around in a circle, behind a wary Resent, and then reconnected to the starting point. In a split-second, the electricity rose, surrounding them both in a dome-shaped cage.

    Misery came hurtling at him. Resent glanced up, gauging the space between his head and the electric ceiling. Smashing the nebulae into the ground, he soared up, giving himself a couple of feet of space to avoid electrocution. On his left hand, Resent generated five small orbs on each nail. Before he could put them to use, Misery pointed his sword up in the air, launching an immense ball of fire at him. Unfazed, Resent bashed the fireball hard enough with his right to split it into two equal parts that blew past him, and fizzled out when they hit the cage.

    As he landed, Resent let loose the orbs one at a time, aimed at Misery¡¯s face as he drew closer to him. Misery wasn¡¯t fast enough to dodge them at point-blank range, but they weren¡¯t doing much more than opening up gashes. Backed into a corner now, Resent was like a wild animal relying on nothing other than instinct. He sailed over Misery¡¯s flaming blade and, in a lunge, managed to wrap his left forearm around the king¡¯s throat. As he reeled back his fist, preparing to ram it into Misery¡¯s skull, the arm born from nebulae became unstable, fluttering.

    Plunging his sword into the ground, as its unwieldy size was now to his detriment, Misery grabbed Resent by the scruff of his neck with both hands, and lifted him over his head, slamming him into the dirt. Rodrigo could hear multiple bones shatter upon impact.

    Misery pinned the prince¡¯s chest under his boot, bearing down on him with hundreds of pounds of muscle and metal, as he reached for his sword. ¡°Capitalizing on the loss of the boy¡¯s arm to craft one that imitates your original body. Clever. Yet once again, your penchant for the dramatic proved to be your downfall. Farewell, Resent.¡±

    Before the blade ran him through, nebulae shot out of the palm Resent had flat against the ground, sending his torso jerking upward, and throwing Misery off balance. Resent rolled out from under Misery¡¯s raised foot, and scattered the nebulae that made up his right arm into a fog. Other than the traces of purple, everything was pitch-black. Resent must have backed away as far as possible, because the subtle buzz of the electric cage was now deafening, though even it couldn¡¯t illuminate the darkness.

    Keeping low, Resent raised his left arm, pointing his index finger and pinky out in front of him. New nebulae not part of the fog manifested and began scurrying around him noiselessly. Rodrigo recognized the buildup of the 666, the high-risk, high-reward technique Resent had used to kill Xanthos. But without knowing where Misery was, the odds of Resent missing, and exhausting himself, or even being cut down first, were overwhelming.

    ¡°Are you sure you want to do that? If you miss¡ª¡± Rodrigo said.

    ¡°Silence!¡±

    When the cracks started to form along the ground from the nebulae accumulating at Resent¡¯s hand, the faint clang of Misery¡¯s armor could be heard. The king was aware of what was coming, and was moving in the opposite direction. The pair of small, shimmering nebulae that hovered less than an inch from Resent¡¯s fingertips, visible through the darkness, didn¡¯t help.

    Resent dispersed the fog as the nebulae erupted into twin beams that came nowhere near hitting Misery. The king was to Resent¡¯s right, looming over him with a smirk as he drew his sword back. Discarded pieces of armor trailed behind him, starting with his boots, flung farther and farther away to deceive their ears into thinking he had been retreating. Rodrigo was about to force a takeover and pray to higher powers he no longer had any faith in, when Resent stretched his fingers farther apart. In the blink of an eye, the beams swung, revolving opposite from each other a single time.

    Misery was cleaved at the waist, dark blood gushing from the halves of his body as they fell. The gold band that held his ponytail had snapped, and loose strands of long green hair splayed out about his head. The electric cage around them began to disintegrate, creating small sparks that crackled throughout the air in its wake.

    Beyond that, the arena walls themselves had been sliced through. The entire structure was slanting and threatening to collapse. Some demons were evacuating, though most were too exhilarated to care as they burst into applause and chants. Other than a few, those unhappy with the outcome were wise enough not to boo.

    ¡°Resent,¡± Misery murmured, choking on his own blood in a way that brought Rodrigo a twisted satisfaction. ¡°Resent.¡±

    The prince knelt beside him. ¡°If this is another scheme¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, nothing of that nature. I simply have...some last words.¡±

 Chapter 41 â€“ The Tri-horned Crown

    ¡°Speak your piece,¡± Resent said from Misery¡¯s side. ¡°Nothing will make me attempt to preserve your life.¡±

    ¡°I would never ask you to dishonor our duel in such a manner.¡± Slowly, Misery reached up toward Resent¡¯s throat with a gauntlet that was splitting apart. His hand was so frail that it was unclear whether he was trying to use the last of his strength to choke Resent. ¡°Now that you have won, and there is no one to overhear, did you truly not kill King Strife?¡±

    ¡°No. As I said, I would have been thrilled to do so, and in a few decades, perhaps I would have issued him a challenge for the crown, but my power was still too far beneath his at the time of his murder.¡±

    ¡°So, then these past fifteen years...all for naught.¡± Misery chuckled, letting his feeble hand drop to his side. ¡°I suppose I owe you an apology. The witnesses in the castle were many, and each wholly convinced they had seen you leaving the throne room, dragging the king¡¯s corpse behind you. We even found the crown secreted away in your chamber. Whoever pitted us against one another either deeply infiltrated Dreadmus, sowing such terror in every purported witness that no amount of torture could glean the truth from them, or is some form of shape-shifter.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just going to believe it wasn¡¯t him?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°I never honestly thought him responsible. No matter how I may feel about Misery, the depth of his loyalty to Strife is unlike anything I¡¯ve ever seen. It is downright contradictory to the very essence of a demon.¡±

    Misery¡¯s eyes fluttered closed. Briefly, he seemed dead. Then his eyelids snapped open, and he seized Resent¡¯s arm with a surprising amount of force. ¡°In my quarters...your father¡¯s journal. I was unable to decipher the writing, but if you can, it may provide you some insight.¡±

    ¡°Demons keep journals?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Father was an anomaly in many ways,¡± Resent said, his eyes locked on Misery¡¯s. ¡°I give you my word, I will hunt down whoever is responsible for toying with us, and their passing will be several times more painful than yours.¡±

    A faint smile touched the dying king¡¯s lips as he stared up at Resent, almost as if he was proud of him. Resent rose, and for a moment, Rodrigo thought he would leave Misery to bleed out on his own. And why not? Apologies and justifications didn¡¯t bring Carlito or the countless dead humans back to life. Suffering a slow, lonely death was the least scum like this deserved.

    But then Resent encased Misery¡¯s skull in the nebulae and crushed it as the rest of the torso convulsed. The surge of indignation Rodrigo felt at his enemy being granted such a small mercy, startled him into silence. That Misery was dead, and he himself played a role in it, should have been enough. It should have satiated the rage spreading through him like a cancer since Carlito drew his last breath. But Misery had lived for centuries, and died on his own terms, utterly unafraid. How was that justice for a terrified ten-year-old?

    ¡°Spectacular!¡± Amdusias yelled, reminding Rodrigo they had an audience. ¡°While in most cases the prince would be crowned king immediately with this victory, his special circumstances mean the council must convene before any decision is made. There were more judgments scheduled for today, yet given the condition of the arena, I think it best we stop here. To all of you who stuck around to the bitter end, try not to be killed by falling debris on your way out. Or do. It would give the rest of us a good laugh.¡±

    As the demons began exiting in droves, Rodrigo asked, ¡°What happened to his sword?¡±

    Resent looked at what moments ago had been Misery¡¯s black great sword, rich with detail, and was now a small, plain, sword-shaped slab of steel.

    As Resent gripped the hilt, a second disembodied voice, ancient and authoritative, penetrated Rodrigo¡¯s mind. ¡°Ye who would wield the power of assimilation must payeth the price with one of thy sensory faculties.¡±

    ¡°D-Did the sword just talk?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°It appears so,¡± Resent said. ¡°And now I understand Misery¡¯s lack of an energy sense. He sacrificed it to this weapon for its power to absorb the abilities of others.¡±

    ¡°So, then what we were really fighting was Jett¡¯s electricity and Adena¡¯s fire.¡±

    ¡°I assumed as much, though the electricity certainly seemed more potent. It also explains how Misery managed to get through that inferno unscathed.¡±

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t he take the nebulae?¡±

    ¡°Because he knew he would be doing himself a disservice against me. Like an amateur swordsman brandishing a blade against a master.¡±

    Rodrigo ignored the barb. ¡°So, should we pay it?¡±

    ¡°You just lost an arm and you¡¯re already prepared to forfeit one of your senses?¡±

    Resent had a point and the more Rodrigo mulled it over, he didn¡¯t need yet another voice in his head. ¡°All right, so what do we do with it in the meantime? It¡¯d be bad if it found its way into some other maniac¡¯s hands.¡±

    ¡°I shall store it away as something to barter with. Right now, the crown is our priority.¡± Resent went through the gap in the arena¡¯s spiked wall through which Misery had emerged and began climbing up several hundred feet worth of spiral steps. The entire place was crumbling around them piece by piece.

    ¡°Man, I feel sorry for whoever has to fix this place up,¡± Rodrigo said, thinking about how he¡¯d seen scaffolding up in certain parts of New York for as long as he could remember. ¡°It¡¯ll probably take years.¡±

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°This level of damage is far from unprecedented. Judgments will be split between the many other smaller venues throughout the city, while the servants and slaves take a few days for repairs.¡±

    When they reached the top, someone with long platinum blond hair was already sitting on the throne, twirling the tri-horned crown around a finger. Their hair was parted in the middle and immaculately straight, without a single strand out of place.

    ¡°Semiazas, remove your filthy fallen hand from my crown before I tear it off and feed it to you,¡± Resent said, his exhaustion showing in his weary tone.

    Semiazas glanced over a narrow shoulder at Resent with glacial blue eyes, and it was only upon seeing his extraordinarily handsome face that Rodrigo realized he was male. ¡°Brazen of you to spout threats at a high lord, especially in your condition. You only narrowly defeated an upstart never suited to be more than a general.¡± His gaze lingered on the crown a bit longer before tossing it to Resent with irreverence. Rising to display elegant yellow and white clothing that complemented his slender figure, he said, ¡°Enjoy it while it lasts. Regardless of your reasons for being in it, you will not be ascending the throne with that body.¡±

    ¡°Are you so certain because you orchestrated all this?¡± Resent asked. ¡°Revenge for Devika¡¯s ignominious defeat, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°Oh, please, spare me your half-baked allegations, princeling. I may have a myriad of good reasons to detest you, but King Strife¡¯s death has been of no benefit to me. He was more enlightened than the majority of your uncouth species.¡± With no warning, out from the vertical slits on the back of Semiazas¡¯ shirt, burst a pair of ragged skeletal wings, each one the length of his body. The wings didn¡¯t look like they should be able to move, let alone support his weight. Blood dripped from the sharp wingtips that had ripped through his back, but he expressed no pain. ¡°I make for the meeting at the castle now. Do not dawdle.¡±

    Semiazas rose into the sky with a flap of his wings, causing a gust of wind strong enough to nearly knock Resent down. Then he flew off at a speed that left an ear-popping sonic boom in his wake.

    ¡°Okay, who the hell was that?¡± Rodrigo asked. He remembered the name being mentioned in the latest dream, but he was still lost.

    ¡°High Lord of Vicearia and current leader of the fallen angels.¡±

    Had Rodrigo not known what he knew now about the origin of Hell and demons, he wouldn¡¯t have been surprised to hear their natural counterpart existed, too. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Demons were created here, on earth, right? So, what does that make angels?¡±

    Resent clicked his tongue. ¡°This is why I didn¡¯t want to explain any of this to you. You make it sound like we¡¯re somehow lesser because we don¡¯t match up to the imaginings of your scripture. And yet, we¡¯ve informed every aspect of it. Before our creation and our earliest ventures into your world, dating back many millennia when the portals were first constructed, the concepts of demons and Hell hadn¡¯t even existed.¡±

    Rodrigo said nothing, because whether Resent was basking in his victory, or just too tired to feign ignorance, he was being more forthcoming than usual.

    ¡°That said, the angels align quite well with the beliefs of your era, sans their compassion for humanity, of course. Or else Hell never could have come into being. Banished by Heaven, the fallen¡¯s pupils changed to reflect ours, and their wings withered, feathers and flesh reduced to nothing but bone. Their wings lack functionality, but remain a point of pride among the fallen, so some, like Semiazas, use their abilities to relive their former glory. They make up a small fraction of Hell¡¯s populace, and we permit them to stay here for the intel they supply us on their old comrades.¡±

    ¡°Then what¡¯s the deal with you and him?¡±

    There was a pregnant pause before Resent spoke again. ¡°Offering them sanctuary is one thing. Giving their appointed leader such a high position of power in our hierarchy is another. Never mind him. My concern is getting to the journal before the castle guards ransack Misery¡¯s quarters.¡±

    Resent placed the crown on his head, and in an instant, it shrunk down, resizing itself for the perfect fit. Then touching a finger to the same gem on the crown that Misery had back in the pit, they instantly warped into the throne room.

    ¡°Hold on, what about Raquel and Adena?¡± Rodrigo asked. ¡°You left them in that horde of demons!¡±

    ¡°Cease your whingeing. Last I saw, they were in the audience with Ose, the high lord I was traveling with. You will be reunited shortly.¡±

    Generating the ill-proportioned right arm with the nebulae, Resent shoved open the enormous doors of the throne room and revealed a circular great hall. Leading up to the doors were two curved rows of life-sized stone statues, facing one another, and wearing carved versions of the crown Resent wore now. In front of him, spinning around and backing away from the doors to take a semicircle formation, were ten Brutes with their swords and spears raised. As they noticed the crown on his head, their eyes bulged in their helmets.

    ¡°You...defeated King Misery?¡± one of them asked.

    ¡°No. I destroyed him. Now, are you going to obey your rightful king and lower those weapons, or are you all that eager to join him?¡±

    They did so reluctantly before returning to guard the throne room entrance. That was all the defiance they could express, and they knew it. Any further and Resent would kill them. In time, he still might.

    ¡°Are these all the past rulers?¡± Rodrigo asked as Resent continued on.

    ¡°Not even close. Only those who held power for at least half a millennium are eternalized here. Many with brief reigns, like Misery, have been largely forgotten.¡±

    Resent strode by several of the statues, most of which were diavoliks, until he came to a stop in front of one that was pointing forward with a saber in his left hand and held another in his right at his side. It was King Strife. There was writing at the statue¡¯s base, but for all the sense the intricate characters made, Rodrigo might as well have been looking at hieroglyphs. He was about to ask for a translation, when Resent spat up onto the statue¡¯s face, muttered something in Demonic, and kept walking.

    At the hallway¡¯s end, Resent passed through an opening in the wall to his right. As he started down a set of long, onyx spiral steps, Rodrigo asked, ¡°How many floors is this place?¡±

    ¡°Excluding the dungeon, six.¡±

    ¡°Then why does this staircase seem endless?¡±

    ¡°With all the larger demons, particularly ogres, our establishments cannot allow low ceilings like those in your world. In the castle, each story has a minimum height of fifty feet. Fortunately, the royal family¡¯s chambers have always been on the fifth floor, directly beneath the throne room.¡±

    Within the next minute, Resent reached double doors guarded by two Brutes. They had the same disturbed look in their eyes as the previous group, yet taking their lack of numbers into account, showed no disrespect, even bowing slightly before prying the doors open for him. Resent proceeded inside without acknowledging either of them.

    There, in yet another broad, circular hallway, were several large ebony doors. Apparently, this floor had been constructed with an extended royal family in mind. There were no guards in sight, probably because anyone who had made it this far without incident had to belong here. Resent stopped in front of a pair of doors that were both bigger and more ornate than the others. With the nebulous right arm Resent was maintaining for appearances, he placed a finger to the lowest set keyhole, and sculpted the nebulae to unlock the door.

 Chapter 42 â€“ From Beyond the Grave

    Rodrigo was a bit confused seeing a bed even if it didn¡¯t look like it had seen much use, though what really drew his attention was its shape. ¡°The halls, the stairs, now even the beds...¡±

    ¡°Sorry, are you approaching a coherent thought?¡±

    ¡°I mean, what¡¯s this obsession you demons have with things being circular?¡±

    ¡°I could ask the same about you humans and your fixation with the rectilinear. It¡¯s what feels natural. Now hush and let me search.¡±

    3/40/389QEDOA

    ¡°Holy crap. 389? Strife was...¡± Rodrigo paused to do the math.

    ¡°It¡¯s not as you think. Year 389 in the reign of my grandmother, Queen Envy, daughter of Anarchy. Despite having half as many months that are twice as long, the hours in a day and days in a year are roughly the same for our two species. Considering that, it would convert to the late 13<sup>th</sup> century in your calendar, as time runs concurrently between our two worlds. Strife himself would¡¯ve been 303 at the time. Anyhow, as we are pressed for time, I¡¯m going to skip some of this nonsense.¡±

    1/35/391QEDOA

    I have only just returned from venturing out into the abyss at the behest of my mother. It is an uncharted area across the sea from the landmass that houses our six great cities. Most of the inhabitants of these cities pretend the abyss does not exist. But sadly, it does. The entire legion that left Dreadmus with me was annihilated, an outcome I should have anticipated when none of our aerial scouts returned. To say the demons of the cities pale in comparison to what lurks in the abyss, or even the mutated aquatic life leading up to it, would be a colossal understatement. I was nowhere near adequately prepared for this expedition. Almost as if mother had noted my growing interest in Hell¡¯s political affairs, and found it necessary to humble, if not be rid of me.

    Resent turned the page. The next date was the year 36. The calendar had been reset.

    ¡°Whoa. How long¡¯s it been?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°My grandmother¡¯s reign ended at 465 years, so it¡¯s been a century and a decade. But look closer. There¡¯s a fringe. Pages have been removed.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not a good sign.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡±

    1/21/36KSSOE

    Between becoming king and the birth of my son, Pride, I have had little time to write. At just 30 years old, his progress is remarkable. Naturally, being the crown prince, other demons of all ages are intimidated by him, and his discordant appearance alienates him further. He is never without his fade periapt, yet the wisest of demons still harbor their suspicions about his parentage, no matter how impossible such an existence should be. However, he seems to have found a firm ally in the son of one of Bittervale¡¯s lords. Going by the name Murmur, the child is only slightly older than Pride and has the ability to command and see through the eyes of weaker beings whose wills he can dominate, excellent for information gathering. I look forward to seeing them achieve great things.

    ¡°What?¡±

    6/46/226KSSOE

    I have bred a masterpiece. Only 220 years old and yet Pride¡¯s strength has surpassed my own for some time. Despite my initial belief that Pride would have little to gain by training under Misery, in doing so, his skill with a blade has improved far beyond what I taught him. While Pride is well aware of how powerful he is, he does not allow it to make him conceited, already triumphant over the basis of his name. Though, in truth, he was named so more for my pride in him than any shortcomings of his own. Hopefully he keeps progressing in this manner.

    ¡°This is insane. Not only do I have an elder brother, but Strife trained him personally!¡± Resent roared.

    As neither of them seemed ready to discuss Rodrigo¡¯s heritage, he asked, ¡°Didn¡¯t Strife train you before Misery did?¡±

    ¡°

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Maybe he died. Let¡¯s keep reading.¡±

    6/08/227KSSOE

    Pride has been gone for a few days now. Several things of little monetary value are missing from his quarters, and Murmur has vanished as well, so it is surely voluntary. Pride had overcome all obstacles, passed every test, and more than proved his potential as a worthy successor. Were the high lords unwilling to make an exception for him, I would have amended that antiquated law myself. But Pride abandoned me. There has been speculation about his whereabouts, though thus far none of it has amounted to anything.

    ¡°See, I told you there was a good reason. Why would he mention you having a brother if he was a runaway?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    5/05/232KSSOE

    My second child was born recently. This time, I mated with a demon. Inconsiderately, she disappeared shortly after his birth, leaving the burden of dealing with this boy entirely to me. Physically, he resembles me far more than Pride did and from his mother, has likely inherited a Flair for possessing the bodies of humans and demons alike. If properly developed, this could grant him some semblance of immortality. Yet I feel nothing but bitterness when I look at the child. This is exactly why I have given him the name, Resent.

    ¡°If you could do that, then why did you end up in the urn for so long?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°I did not know I was capable of it until death. When I found myself able to control the movement of my soul, I drifted back to my quarters, and chose to recover in the nearest receptacle. Unfortunately, due to my lack of experience with the Flair, I ended up laying dormant there until we met.¡±

    2/45/536KSSOE

    Resent is an arrogant fool who, unlike Pride, has no reason to be so bold. He is 304 years old and cannot hold a candle to my firstborn. Despite Misery¡¯s grating attempts to reassure me that Resent is doing well, as I watch them spar, I can tell he would be no match for me. At 182, I knew Pride could kill me. Resent continues to disappoint and there are times when I still cannot bear to look at him. Simply writing about him frustrates me, so I will stop here.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he didn¡¯t¡ª¡± Rodrigo began.

    ¡°Shut up.¡±

    3/04/662KSSOE

    Upon having the suicidal girl brought before me, something about her made me feel a peculiar sensation of lust. Perhaps it was her golden-bronze skin, reminiscent of Pride¡¯s mother, and so unlike the pallor of most diavoliks, or rather the world-weariness in her eyes that has taken me centuries to acquire. Simple as it would have been to subject her to my desires, I thought it rather boorish to do so before familiarizing myself with her.

    When she had calmed somewhat and become capable of speech again, she informed me she was only 17 years old. To an extent, it intrigued me, as I had never taken much time to learn about humans beyond a surface level. Strange as it may be, the girl and I began to truly speak. I was amused as together we discovered that every 20 years in a demon¡¯s lifespan is equivalent to one in a human¡¯s, as far as appearance is concerned. Thus, if the girl was a demon, she would be considered somewhere between 340 and 359 years old. In some ways, that rapid physical growth could be seen as one of the few advantages that humans have over demons.

    After many weeks spent in conversation over dinner, during which Misery often brooded in the corner, she became comfortable enough to say that I was not what she would have thought the King of Hell would be like. As one who has always endeavored to deny the instinctual urges that come with being a demon, I considered it high praise.

    ¡°Hey, how old are you exactly?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°431. If my time without a body is included, 446.¡±

    ¡°Hah. Not as old as you act. You¡¯re only twenty-one or twenty-two.¡±

    Resent didn¡¯t respond, distracted as he turned to the last page with text on it.

    6/57/662KSSOE

    In the first personal affront to me since trying to strike me decades ago, Resent seduced the human girl of whom I had grown a mite fond. I had no choice but to send her back to her world after the fool unwittingly impregnated her. My enemies would use one of our bloodline fathering a second demon of mixed origin in another halfhearted attempt to brand me a traitor to our species. Sickeningly, she was a sniveling mess, desperate to shift the blame when I had Heinrik escort her back to the portal. While I expect such treachery from Resent, I was...wounded by the actions of the girl. Was she simply attracted to his youth, or was it the brashness that I have come to loathe?

    The only reason I did not execute her is for the sake of my unborn grandchild, who I can only hope will bring enough glory to my lineage to offset the shame that Resent begets with his every breath. It is possible that the very same mixed-blood most demons look down upon is exactly what made Pride more powerful than the better part of his mother¡¯s family.

    I am 1041 years old and have reigned for far longer than most. Although I still have nearly half of my natural life left in this world, I am beset by enemies who relentlessly seek my end. No matter what Miriam calls the child, they will always be my blood and inevitably find their way back to Hell. Only then will I dispose of Resent and take his offspring as my own.

    Resent closed the book and held it in a shaking hand for a long moment. Then he flung it upward into the candles of the chandelier. Ignited by blue flames, the binding and pages left not even ashes behind as they fell out of the sky.

    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Rodrigo demanded. ¡°You don¡¯t get to be the angry one here. You knew. You had to have known as soon as you saw my mom!¡±

    ¡°The girl was so insignificant to me I did not even recall her name. And having doubled in age and weight, the sow was unrecognizable,¡± Resent said, his voice acid. ¡°I always had my suspicions. Your nebulae being your own and not simply an extension of mine, one of the portals to Hell being a short distance from your home, and let¡¯s not forget the random bursts of strength, or how much faster you adapt compared to the other humans. With all that in mind, I assumed, as Misery did, that you were my agnate brother. But apparently, you¡¯re the mongrel who Strife was setting up to replace me.¡±

    There was no room for doubt like there might have been if the deceased Strife had claimed to be his father. Rodrigo¡¯s entire life was a lie and his birth father was far more vile than his mother could ever be. ¡°I don¡¯t care what needs to be done. I want you gone.¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. The feeling is mutual, Son.¡±

 Chapter 43 â€“ The High Lords

    The most recent high lord skittered in on six black blade-like legs. It was a female festered with light red skin above her waist, pointed ears, and flowing purple dreadlocks that fell to her bare midriff. For whatever reason, a black blindfold covered her eyes. Everyone, including Resent, tensed up upon her entrance.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you all just act like the principal strolled in? Who is she?¡± Rodrigo had asked.

    ¡°Dissonantia, High Lord of Maligmere. She has a rather...difficult Flair.¡±

    ¡°This delay is absurd,¡± Resent said finally. ¡°Even if Focron¡¯s not taking a portal, Ruincrest is still the second nearest great city to the capital.¡±

    ¡°I should have mentioned it earlier, but Focron is dead. Has been for nearly a decade now,¡± Ose said.

    ¡°Who is this we¡¯re waiting for, then?¡±

    Right on cue, the large doors were shoved open, and in flew the biggest imp Rodrigo had seen yet. Not so much in height, but in girth. The pink-skinned imp with four little horns sticking out from under his greasy red hair was grossly fat, and it was clearly taking a toll on him. Hyperventilating, he plopped into the last empty chair between Ose and Barbatos, then yelped, and shifted in his seat so he wasn¡¯t sitting on his own barbed tail.

    The imp tried halfheartedly to smooth his ruffled silk shirt before shrugging in submission and looking to Resent. ¡°Sorry for the holdup, boss. Heard about all the drama way late. The name¡¯s Cresil.¡±

    ¡°Before we begin, why exactly are we speaking in English? Particularly such an archaic form of it?¡± Semiazas asked.

    ¡°Because it¡¯s briefer,¡± Resent said, making Rodrigo wonder how the language had evolved over the millennia. Reading the books assigned in his literature classes from only a century or two ago was often jarring enough to force him to open a dictionary on his phone.

    ¡°Sounds to me like you have been spending too much time among the humans of old.¡±

    ¡°Oh, cease your elitist nonsense, Semiazas,¡± Ose snapped, his thick spotted tail swishing back and forth behind him in irritation. ¡°You still jabber in the tongue of angels when it suits you. A language is a means of communication, nothing more.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my thanks for the elucidation,¡± Semiazas said dryly. ¡°Now shed light on something of greater intrigue. Are you so swift in defending this little egomaniac because there is simply no limit to the boot-licking you will do to ensure the impecunious Erodis thrives, or does imagining his seed trickling down your throat in praise give you something to aspire to?¡±

    Rodrigo snorted internally at that, and Resent shushed him. Semiazas came off as a bit of a prick, yet he found himself rooting for the guy. He wasn¡¯t sure whether it was because the fallen angel was the clear outsider among the others, or that he was one of the most beautiful beings Rodrigo had ever laid eyes on. Not celebrity good looks, but an inhuman level of attractiveness that went beyond something to be appreciated and made one question their own sexuality.

    Semiazas raised his hand in front of him and generated a small tornado in his palm. ¡°Other than Barbatos, who can say with any certainty? Shall we find out?¡±

    Resent¡¯s eyes flicked to Dissonantia, who was bobbing her head as if listening to music no one else could hear. ¡°Is this your doing?¡±

    ¡°As if they needed my encouragement,¡± Dissonantia responded in a deep, sultry voice, her swinging dreads obscuring her expression. ¡°I am stunned they did not tear each other apart ages ago.¡±

    Rejoining them in this plane of existence, Barbatos cleared his throat from his place at the head of the table, and everyone calmed a bit. ¡°If the enmity you two feel for each other is insurmountable, settle it in the arena. Or anywhere outside this room, for that matter. The tedious antics of children have no place here.¡±

    ¡°Wise words, ancient one,¡± Semiazas said. ¡°However, do not condescend to me as if your power is greater or even on a par with the rest of ours. You have a single trick that has allowed you to survive up until this point. That is all.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Barbatos admitted, pensively stroking the gray beard that fell to his chest. ¡°And yet my trick foretells quite an unfortunate fate for you if your outburst continues.¡±

    Semiazas grimaced before permitting the tornado in his hand to die down.

    Sweeping his gaze around the room and seeing the others were as composed as they were likely to get, Barbatos continued, ¡°My fellow high lords, we gather here on this day because Prince Resent wishes to stake his claim to the throne. Typically, after defeating the king in combat, the winner¡¯s request for succession would be granted. Even more so because he is King Strife¡¯s progeny. Nevertheless, that the prince is being hosted by a cambion makes him ineligible.¡±

    ¡°I miss something here?¡± Cresil asked as he dug into his ear with a chubby pinky. ¡°Obviously, he can do possession, so why not just have him transfer into a demon vessel?¡±

    ¡°Were the solution that elementary, I presume the prince would have done so before entering this room,¡± Barbatos said.

    ¡°Correct,¡± Resent said. ¡°Ose presented me with the corpse of a diavolik conqueror from Erodis, and yet I felt weaker in it than I do in this mongrel¡¯s body. Disgraceful as it may be, that is because this boy is...Strife¡¯s son, and my agnate brother.¡±

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Rodrigo asked, having no intention of spending the rest of his life in Hell. He didn¡¯t bother asking about the lie, because it made perfect sense. If having an offspring that wasn¡¯t a pure demon was frowned upon in their society, why not make Strife, who had a history of it, the scapegoat? Misery had even paved the way for the deception by having Amdusias introduce Rodrigo as such back in the arena.

    Resent ignored his question as the high lords traded inquiring looks.

    ¡°

    ¡°Then what am I to do?¡± Resent demanded, trying and failing to keep his anger in check.

    ¡°Is it not settled?¡± Semiazas asked, steepling his long fingers. ¡°I bore witness to the finale of your rematch with Misery, and you are far weaker now than you were fifteen years ago. If possessing a body that makes you eligible to rule enfeebles you further still, you would make laughingstocks of us all for enabling such foolishness. Royal blood or no, you cannot be king.¡±

    Resent shot him a dark look, but the once angel stared back at him full of cheer.

    ¡°I think we can all see where this is headed,¡± Ose said. ¡°You could approach the necromancers for an answer, although, assuming they could find you an ideal vessel, you would still be more vulnerable than you originally were. If this boy is indeed King Strife¡¯s son, then he may in fact be the best host you could hope for. That said, the most viable solution is getting your body back.¡±

    ¡°Impossible!¡± Semiazas spat. ¡°Misery beheaded him and immolated his corpse. Not even ash remains.¡±

    ¡°

    ¡°Of course, therein lies the problem. It is neither a simple nor expeditious task,¡± Barbatos said. ¡°The demons will also require reassurance, so a high lord must be named protector until the new ruler takes the crown.¡±

    ¡°I would volunteer Ose,¡± Resent said, perhaps too quickly.

    ¡°Then I am relieved it is not up to you,¡± Semiazas countered. ¡°Until you can rectify your condition, you have no say in matters of governance.¡±

    ¡°Be that as it may, the prince will be treated with respect due to his rank,¡± Barbatos said sharply. ¡°We shall put it to a vote.¡±

    ¡°Have your vote later. I have more pressing concerns,¡± Resent said.

    Cresil slouched in his seat. ¡°Like what? I thought we hit all the key points.¡±

    ¡°For one, I request every last Brute and all their kin be exiled to the abyss.¡±

    ¡°You would condemn the entire royal guard, some of your city¡¯s finest warriors, to oblivion?¡± Semiazas asked.

    ¡°Their debatable skill aside, they betrayed me and followed Misery without hesitation. Simply because treachery is to be expected among demons does not mean I shall tolerate it.¡± Addressing everyone now, Resent asked, ¡°How long am I being given to retrieve my body?¡±

    ¡°A month seems reasonable,¡± Semiazas said.

    ¡°Madness!¡± Ose cried. ¡°No one in such a state could hope to infiltrate Heaven and force an angel to restore their body inside of a fleeting sixty-one days.¡±

    Barbatos nodded. ¡°A year seems much more suitable.¡±

    ¡°Is that not overly generous of you?¡± Semiazas asked.

    ¡°I suppose, however, Prince Resent deserves as much time as possible, within reason, to achieve his goal.¡±

    ¡°All right, so track the angels down, massacre enough of them that they heal you just to be rid of you, and come back to rule. There¡¯s your game plan. We done here?¡± Cresil asked, stretching his arms and head out on the table.

    ¡°Ask about the demons pulling out of earth!¡± Rodrigo yelled.

    Resent was quiet for so long that Rodrigo started to believe he wouldn¡¯t broach the subject, satisfied with the chaos. It was also possible he felt wronged by humanity, like Misery had, and wanted earth for the demons. ¡°What exactly is the current situation with the human world? Since I am to be dwelling there for a time, it would be rather inconvenient to have demons continue rampaging through its streets.¡±

    ¡°

    Resent seemed to realize how the comment made Rodrigo like the fallen angel more than anyone else in the room, because he said, ¡°Don¡¯t let his false benevolence lull you. He simply doesn¡¯t need more slaves. Humans flock to Vicearia of their own volition to be close to the ¡®divinity¡¯ of the angels. It may be a fate worse than traditional slavery, since their brains are so muddled they can¡¯t recognize their own predicament.¡±

    ¡°

    Resent and the other high lords gawked at her in disbelief. Rodrigo felt nauseous as the words he¡¯d taunted Misery with came back to bite him.

    Cresil sat bolt upright, blinking like there was a spotlight shining in his face. ¡°Retaliate? Sorry, we¡¯re actually considering the humans a credible threat? Out of sheer desperation, these primates have been nuking cities packed with their own people to get rid of small pockets of our forces. North Korea self-destructed, wiping themselves off the map. Why? In part because fear is driving them to lunacy. But we also tiptoed in and defanged the entire species before they even got their first whiff of a demon. We have soldiers possessing humans in the upper echelons of government all around the globe, spreading misinformation and sowing pandemonium. Even if we were evenly matched, which, duh, we¡¯re not, there¡¯s no defense they could muster against that. Kudos to Misery, the guy sure knew how to destabilize a world.¡±

    If anyone but Rodrigo and Resent were surprised by the imp¡¯s sudden lucidity, they didn¡¯t show it. Adena had mentioned the possibility, but if demons as skilled as Jezebeth were the ones doing the possessing, it painted a terrifying picture for the future of humanity. Their world leaders could already be supplanted, and not even those closest to them would be the wiser.

    ¡°You realize most of us present, yourself included, are only where we are today because our predecessors underestimated us, correct? Making such a hasty judgment about an entire species can lead to grave repercussions.¡±

    ¡°Dissonantia makes a fair point,¡± Barbatos said. ¡°It is easy to draw conclusions about a foe from afar. Prince Resent, you have had time to observe them. Your input would be welcome.¡±

    ¡°See, straight from the boss¡¯ mouth. Can we go now?¡± Cresil asked, his misanthropic rant seemingly exhausting him, as he stared up at the ceiling.

    ¡°No. Prince Resent is free to leave. The rest of us have the vote and a few other matters to attend to,¡± Barbatos said. As Resent rose, scooping Misery¡¯s sword up from its resting place by the chair leg, Barbatos added, ¡°Oh, and Prince Resent, I hope you understand we will need to retain the crown until you recuperate.¡±

    Eventually, Resent composed himself and took the crown off his head, tossing it onto the table in front of Barbatos. He walked out without a word.

 Chapter 44 â€“ Homeward Bound

    The grand foyer¡¯s walls were decorated with large paintings of historical demonic battles and replicas of weapons used by demons of importance. Though not in control, Rodrigo was relieved to see Raquel and Adena were sitting on a bench by the great hall¡¯s exit.

    Adena noticed Resent first, rising as he strode toward them. ¡°By the lack of a smirk on your face, I¡¯m guessing things didn¡¯t go to your liking.¡±

    ¡°

    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to wait and find out who they pick?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°No need. It will be Barbatos. He lacks the others¡¯ hunger for power and has survived for over two millennia. No small feat for any demon, much less one in his position. Possibly barring Cresil, the high lords respect him most of all. No matter, he shall not keep me from my crown long.¡±

    ¡°Rodrigo, Jezebeth¡¯s alive!¡± Raquel shouted.

    Rodrigo took control and Resent didn¡¯t try to stop him. The right arm made from the nebulae dissipated, and Raquel cringed at the sight. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°She was in the arena, running the prison there, I guess. I wanted to tell you earlier, but...¡± Raquel glanced at Adena.

    ¡°Why would you keep this from me?¡± Rodrigo asked her.

    ¡°What good would knowing have done you? If you killed Jezebeth, she just would have jumped into a new body, likely Raquel¡¯s, to torment you further. Besides, it was best you focused all that hate and rage on Misery.¡±

    Rodrigo was a bit pissed with Adena for taking the decision out of his hands, but he could see the logic in it. If she had waited eight years for her vengeance, he could at least wait until he had a solid plan for his. And while Misery managed to die finding some sense of satisfaction, he would see to it Jezebeth did not.

    Deciding he had avoided the question long enough, Rodrigo asked, ¡°How¡¯s Jett?¡±

    ¡ª

    Even when he¡¯d still been in his world, most people had wised up and gotten indoors. Rather than chase down the strays wandering the streets or going door to door, the demons were letting people think the hospital and other places likely to draw a crowd were safe zones. Actually, they were corralling them like livestock.When they finally decided they had enough victims packed into a building like sardines, some of the easiest killing sprees since the start of the invasion would begin.

    Rodrigo handed Adena Misery¡¯s sword and rushed for the doors, pushing one with all his might using his left arm. It was no good. Even with both arms, he doubted he¡¯d be able to make it budge. The two guards on either side snickered.

    ¡°Open. The. Door,¡± Rodrigo ordered, biting off each word.

    ¡°Why? Is it too much for the little half-breed to

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°I am not the one for this right now,¡± Rodrigo said, forcing calm into his voice. ¡°Either do your damn job and open the door or I cut you and your pal down along with it.¡±

    They hesitated, perhaps considering whether it was worth it to take this any further. Then the one with the blade to his throat drew back, and straining himself, pushed open the left door.

    ¡°

    ¡°

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to take a carriage,¡± Adena said.

    It didn¡¯t take long to find a carriage in the courtyard with a pair of Dreadhounds waiting for passengers. Of course, these carriages weren¡¯t the size of the horse-drawn ones in his world. Like everything in Hell, they were built big, closer to a trailer. With his brain on autopilot, Rodrigo nearly lost his other arm when he reached for the door and one of the hounds snapped at it.

    ¡°You have to pay them first,¡± Adena explained.

    ¡°What? What are they gonna buy, chew toys?¡± The hounds growled at that, seeming to be barely resisting the urge to attack, and Rodrigo half-wanted them to give him the excuse.

    ¡°Just because they¡¯re incapable of speech doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re less intelligent than the average demon.¡± Adena dug into her coat pocket, pulling out a small brown pouch with gold leaf symbols on it. The clink of coins could be heard from within. ¡°Ose¡¯s way of making amends.¡±

    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure what that meant, and didn¡¯t want to know right now. His shit list was long enough.

    Adena fished out two red, hexagonal-shaped coins. She dropped the change into one of the small pouches each hound had around its neck. ¡°Take us to the nearest portal to the human world.¡±

    ¡°Could¡¯ve used a warning on the etiquette of getting a taxi around here,¡± Rodrigo said as he climbed into the carriage.

    ¡°While it was amusing as always to see you make a fool of yourself, I rarely had use for carriages and when I did, there was no charge. Still, you were fortunate to find some accepting trigites. In our world, currency is an inconvenient fallback for bartering.¡±

    ¡°Raquel, how¡¯s...that?¡± Rodrigo asked, pointing at his own throat. Sitting next to a dozing Adena on the bench seat across from him, she had wrapped the black cloth he gave her around the wound. No blood was seeping through, but knowing it was his doing made it seem much more severe.

    Raquel waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Doesn¡¯t even hurt. What about your arm?¡±

    Rodrigo had to glance down at where his right arm used to be to remind himself it was gone. ¡°Hasn¡¯t sunk in yet.¡±

    The hounds were masterful at steering, barely ever needing to stop or slow their pace to avoid obstacles and other carriages. Their powerful hind legs and keen senses permitted them to pull the carriage across the broad roads at a speed faster than the average car. Because of that, Rodrigo only got glimpses of the city bustling with various demons, many of whom didn¡¯t fit in with any of the races he knew.

    Then there were the humans, running errands or struggling to carry things. The less compliant ones had demons pulling them along by heavy-looking chains around their necks. As much as it ate at Rodrigo to see, there was nothing to be done while Resent didn¡¯t have the crown. No doubt it was a terrible practice that needed to be brought to an end, but at least these people were alive, and that was more than could be said for many.

    The carriage made it to their destination in around an hour. Once Rodrigo and the others got out, the hounds headed back toward Dreadmus.

    The isolated building that housed the portal had a steady stream of demons emerging from it. With none of those returning being aware of who he and his group were, Rodrigo anticipated problems. However, the demons must have felt discouraged by being forced back so soon because all he got were a few nasty looks and what came off as smack talk in Demonic.

    After going down some stairs and through a long tunnel, they reached an empty room with a faintly glowing symbol on the ground, identical to the one from the throne room. Rodrigo wasn¡¯t totally sure how it worked, but Raquel and Adena approached it, so he followed them.

    As soon as his boot made contact with it, he was whisked away, and into the middle of a snow-covered street. The sun was setting. He must have been in Hell for nearly an entire day. Unlike him, the girls looked disoriented, like they were just waking up.

    Now that Rodrigo took in their surroundings, they were at the Spiral. The tower was standing tall above them and the fence was practically obliterated. In the journal, Strife mentioned a tower being directly above the portal Miriam had fallen through, and Resent had even brought up a portal being near Rodrigo¡¯s home, yet only now did he make the connection. It was the place he had felt drawn to since childhood. Aptly named by those he once dismissed as conspiracy theorists, his home away from home was a gateway to Hell.

 Chapter 45 - Karma

    ¡°What happened here?¡± Rodrigo asked, examining what, under normal circumstances, would be mistaken for a crime scene. A short distance from the Spiral, a lanky body blackened with burns was laying in the snow. Despite its head having been pulverized, he recognized its build and clawed hands as the creature¡¯s, or at least something of the same breed. A trail of blood, belonging to a human by its brighter color, stained the snow, leading away from the creature and to the curbside.

    ¡°Whoa, Jett actually pulled it off,¡± Raquel said.

    Rodrigo whirled to her. ¡°Jett did this?¡±

    ¡°Had to be. This is where we left him.¡±

    ¡°Preposterous,¡±¡°Not only was this monster far beyond him, the wounds suggest a ferocity the twig lacks.¡±

    So then it wasn¡¯t Rodrigo¡¯s imagination. It was the creature from Swan Street that had nearly killed him and Resent both. ¡°Somebody sounds a little jealous.¡±

    ¡°Just a sec,¡± Rodrigo said, holding a hand up. If his cousin had died so that he could live, he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever be able to face his Uncle Antonio and Geo again. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of blood here. Is Jett all right?¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t be running anywhere for a while. But he¡¯s alive,¡± Adena said, and Rodrigo breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Now, let¡¯s go.¡±

    Raquel was trembling, her eyes welled with tears she was fighting to hold back. Her strength in that moment made Rodrigo swell with pride. He took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze, knowing that hugging her would be like giving her license to fall apart.

    He actually walked past where his house once stood, only noticing because Adena kept glancing his way as they covered that block. Back when they first met, she had said, ¡°Houses will be the least of anyone¡¯s concerns by January 1<sup>st</sup>.¡± At the time, he saw that as a cop-out to hide the truth about Misery knowing where to find him. Now, he was almost glad it happened as early as it had. It gave him something which the dead strewn throughout the streets never got. The chance to process and accept the loss in a semi-rational world. For everyone else, losing the safety of their homes had just been one more bombshell in a succession of them.

    ¡°Anyone home?¡± Rodrigo asked as he pounded on the door of a house that was already cracked open, halfway off its hinges. In case anyone was still there, he didn¡¯t want to startle them and end up getting shot. When there was no response for about a minute, he said, ¡°Coming in. We¡¯re not here to hurt anybody.¡±

    Despite the situation, entering someone¡¯s lived-in house without them present still felt like a violation, and lacked the thrill of exploring an abandoned one. After closing the door behind Raquel and Adena, Rodrigo sank into the worn couch in the living room. There were four colorful plastic trays on the glass coffee table with a half-eaten dinner, long gone cold, in front of a flat screen TV. The news was playing with the sound muted and the subtitles turned on. Raquel found the remote and increased the television¡¯s volume, as breaking news flashed on the screen.

    ¡°

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Adena said, rubbing her chin.

    ¡°What?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°In a surprise attack this well coordinated, what do you think the odds are of the Vice President surviving if the demons didn¡¯t want him to?¡±

    ¡°You think he¡¯s possessed?¡± Rodrigo asked, staring wide-eyed at her. The far-reaching consequences of such a thing were too much for his tired mind to handle.

    Adena shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s one theory. He just as likely could have been spared because the high lords felt he¡¯d make an incompetent leader, or even scraped by on sheer dumb luck.¡±

    ¡°Time will tell,¡± Resent said, sounding amused by the thought. ¡°In any event, they haven¡¯t all left, you know? After seeing what luxuries the past offers and how vulnerable you all are, many won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to make them. I don¡¯t care if they leave in peace or in pieces.¡± Rodrigo wished he hadn¡¯t said that. He could see a huge argument stemming from this, and he was in no mood.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Yes, I have no interest in those with an inability to follow my orders. Besides, it shall make good practice for the angels.¡±

    Caity continued her broadcast, her green eyes taking on a fanatical gleam. ¡°Worldwide, multiple confirmed sightings of what seem to be humans with supernatural abilities have been reported. We¡¯re currently unsure of what connection the sudden emergence of these people or their abilities have to the demons, if any. Now, what we do have is a recording captured on a cell phone from inside the luxury hotel, the Bloodstone. I would say viewer discretion is advised, but I wholeheartedly believe this is something everyone needs to see.¡±

    The red ogre appeared fully on the screen, the footage taken from afar, blurry, shaking, and without sound. From the position of the camera, the cameraman must have been at the top of the staircase, not far from where Rodrigo was. Just as he remembered, the ogre merely stood there, blocking the exit, as the other demons did as they pleased. A second after the boy crawling along the ground was smacked away, Rodrigo flew into the camera¡¯s view, the nebulae blinding the ogre and dropping him.

    ¡°Now, that¡¯s karma!¡± There was a pause, then Caity¡¯s lightly freckled face flushed as she cleared her throat, seeming mortified about her excited outburst in the midst of the chaos. ¡°A-anyhow, while descriptions of this young man controlling some form of magic vary, blue streaks in his hair and a purple and black scarf remain constants. Dozens of witnesses credit the savior¡¯s brave actions as the reason for their survival, and we¡¯ll go live to them in a moment. I would just like to say, whoever or wherever you may be, young man...thank you.¡±

    Not wanting to hear anymore, Rodrigo took off for the nearest bedroom, hoping to find clothes close enough to his size.

    Having seen the state of the front door, he had braced himself for the bodies. But what he found was nothing he could have imagined. Spread out on the hardwood floor in front of him, were three corpses holding hands, each with a single gunshot wound to the head. The girl and boy on either side of the mother were younger than even Carlito. A pool of congealing blood conjoined underneath them. The father¡¯s body was slumped in the corner of the room, still gripping the revolver in his right hand, his blood splattered on the floral-patterned window curtains behind him.

    Rodrigo backed away until he hit the wall, then numbly slid down it until he was sitting. How many homes across the world had scenes that mirrored this one? People with no means of fighting back having lost all hope and killing themselves before the demons could do worse? The religious feeling abandoned by God and praying that a better afterlife awaited them?

    ¡°Why are you still surprised by the cowardice of humanity?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°Cowardice?¡± Rodrigo was no advocate for suicide, the unknown hereafter always scaring him more than anything in life ever could, but while rotting in that pit after having failed everyone he cared about, amid the bones of the long departed, he had certainly felt its allure. Yet where Rodrigo might have welcomed death out of a selfish need to escape his guilt and self-loathing, this man had made the hardest choice imaginable, sparing his family far more pain. Could Rodrigo have done the same if he knew the agonizing end awaiting Carlito? ¡°Someone like you could never understand.¡±

    ¡°Someone like me?¡± Resent demanded, and Rodrigo clammed up to prevent himself from saying something that might weaken their fragile partnership further. But Resent wouldn¡¯t let it be. ¡°Go on. Elaborate.¡±

    ¡°Someone whose first instinct is to put his own well-being above everyone else¡¯s, and has never known powerlessness since the day he was born.¡±

    Resent snorted. ¡°Yes, yes. I¡¯ve had to hear derivative tripe like this for centuries. From Semiazas¡¯ delusional whore of a daughter to that oaf of a conqueror, whining about life¡¯s unfairness, before I killed him.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong. I¡¯m not singling you out, I¡¯m talking about your entire damned species. Even if you were among the weakest of demons, you¡¯d still have an edge over the world¡¯s strongest man. Clearly, that kind of unchecked power has warped your thinking. Because if  looks like a coward to you,¡±¡°You¡¯re more vacuous than your old man feared.¡±

    Rodrigo knew he had overstepped by uttering Strife¡¯s choice insult, when Resent¡¯s black and purple nebulae somehow sprouted from his right shoulder, grabbed him by the throat and started to squeeze. Briefly, the nebulous arm flickered, Resent seeming as shocked with his new ability as Rodrigo was. Resent being able to generate nebulae without needing to be in control had all sorts of chilling applications. Even if he couldn¡¯t afford to do any lasting damage to Rodrigo, he could now lash out at everyone around him with impunity.

    Resent chuckled, probably coming to a similar conclusion, and the nebulae solidified, reapplying the pressure on Rodrigo¡¯s throat as they pinned him against the wall. ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t presume that my learning of some misspent seed would awaken any sort of paternal concern in me. You¡¯re a useful spare until I get my body back, but disrespect me so brazenly again at the peril of your loved ones.¡±

    So they were back to square one? Rodrigo left with no choice but to tiptoe around the prince, careful not to poke the bear, lest he tear off the face of the nearest person he cared about. To hell with that! Rodrigo constructed his sword from his pitch-black nebulae in his left hand, and he could feel as Resent¡¯s nebulae stiffened, bracing for the slash. It was a battle Rodrigo had no chance of winning. Instead, he leveled the blade at his own forehead so that he was staring at the razor-sharp point, an inch away. ¡°Threaten my friends and family at yours, prince. Because if you hurt them, that¡¯s all you¡¯ll ever be.¡±

    ¡°You...you¡¯re bluffing,¡± Resent said, unable to mask the doubt in his voice. ¡°You would never leave your sister alone.¡±

    ¡°Seeing the injuries I gave her and Adena when I had no control over myself made me want to vomit. If you think the risk of you hurting them or the others even worse isn¡¯t enough incentive for me to kill us both, you haven¡¯t been paying attention.¡±

    There was a tense silence, then Resent¡¯s nebulae dissipated, leaving Rodrigo gasping for air. ¡°I suppose it only fitting any spawn of mine has something resembling a backbone.¡±

    Rodrigo wanted to believe that it was the insistent honking of a car horn outside that kept him from addressing the elephant between them. But really, he was still unpacking all the ways Resent being his father explained the mysteries of his life. From the rage that had plagued him since childhood, to Edward¡¯s detachment and eventual abandonment of his own family. Yet as much as he wanted to blame Resent for all the frustrations and misfortunes in his life, the prince had been equally clueless about their relationship.

    And what if Resent had known? Would Rodrigo have grown up in Hell, groomed into a miniature version of his father, a demon who embodied nearly everything he stood against? More likely, the instant Miriam started to show, Resent would have killed her with Rodrigo growing in her belly. With those odds, it seemed like having been raised ignorant of his demon heritage was the best outcome for all involved.

 Chapter 46 â€“ Ashes to Ashes

    Outside the house Rodrigo and the girls had been sheltering in, waiting in front of Adena¡¯s armored SUV, was someone he wasn¡¯t expecting to ever see again. With everything that had happened since, he couldn¡¯t recall the name of the police officer who had taken his report after the fire. He had traded his uniform for snow camouflage, more fitting for a soldier or hunter, and had an ivory sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.

    When he saw Adena, he tossed her the car key, and she snatched it out of the air. ¡°You¡¯ve been asking a lot of me lately, Dena. This makes four you owe me.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate it, Craig, but I was told you would be at my disposal.¡± Adena cocked her head at him and there was such coldness in her gaze that the man, about a decade her senior and nearly a head taller, tightened his grip on his rifle sling. ¡°Besides, you don¡¯t want to get into who owes who more.¡±

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait,¡± Rodrigo said, as much to break the tension as voice his confusion. ¡°Maybe all the trauma I¡¯ve been through in the last few days is finally catching up with me, but aren¡¯t you that cop from the hospital?¡±

    As Craig noticed his missing arm, Rodrigo registered the slightest hint of pity in his eyes, but it was gone as he asked, ¡°Would you believe me if I said I wasn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Not really.¡±

    ¡°Okay then.¡±

    Rodrigo waited several seconds for an explanation, then when it became clear one wasn¡¯t coming, snapped, ¡°No, not okay! What the hell¡¯s going on here?¡±

    ¡°Relax,¡± Adena said. ¡°I didn¡¯t need you spilling your guts about what happened and ending up in a mental asylum, so I sent the only other Blight I could trust to take your report.¡±

    ¡°The Blight of Erodis, I suppose,¡± Resent said. ¡°Ose did mention that our Blights were working in tandem, though their alliance seems as strained as ours.¡±

    ¡°A Blight? Is this guy even a real cop?¡± Rodrigo asked, unsure whether he was more annoyed or impressed that there were still layers to Adena¡¯s plan he had been oblivious to.

    ¡°Christ, all you teenagers are so damn nosy,¡± Craig said. ¡°Everybody needs a day job, right? I did my time at the academy, same as the rest.¡±

    ¡°Craig kept an eye on you when I couldn¡¯t,¡± Adena said. ¡°I had him distance himself from our group so anyone watching us wouldn¡¯t account for him.¡±

    Craig nodded. ¡°Didn¡¯t count on the storm, though, or just how many of these bastards would be pouring in. I lost track of you lot a few blocks from the Bloodstone, and finding you again was a pain in my ass.¡±

    So Adena didn¡¯t trust him enough to disclose the location of her warehouse. But then Rodrigo realized something. ¡°Those imps outside the hotel...that was you?¡±

    Craig paused, mulling it over like he had killed so many demons recently that it was hard to be sure. ¡°Oh, yeah! Nothing sends demons scurrying back to Hell faster than seeing their buddies get shot down by angel radiance.¡±

    ¡°Um, sir, if you have the car, where¡¯s Jett?¡± Raquel asked, squinting to try to peer through the SUV¡¯s tinted windows.

    ¡°Back at the hospital. Even as he was passing out in the backseat, he was going on about being around to pick you guys up, so I told him I¡¯d handle it. By the way, according to that fidgety doctor, seems that girl¡¯s surgery was a success, and she¡¯ll pull through.¡±

    Rodrigo had to force the corners of his mouth up into a parody of a smile. He was happy to hear Leila was alive, but after losing his brother, her surviving felt more like a small mercy than a victory.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s my good deed for the year. I¡¯ll be going.¡± Craig was striding off, then stopped, glancing over his shoulder at Rodrigo and Raquel. The stern expression on his scarred face softened. ¡°My condolences about your baby brother. He seemed like a sweet kid.¡±

    Rodrigo¡¯s throat tightened, the loss crashing down on him all over again as he could barely bring himself to choke out, ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we stick together? The demons are still out here,¡± Raquel called after Craig, though the few Rodrigo had seen since coming back through the portal were all headed toward it. He wasn¡¯t sure whether that was because the ones with no intention of retreating were lying low, or if a neighborhood devoid of life simply held no appeal for them.

    ¡°Leave him be. He knows what he¡¯s doing,¡± Adena said.

    When Craig was out of earshot, Raquel asked, ¡°So, what¡¯s the deal with you and him?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say...¡± Adena began, and Rodrigo felt like ripping his recently regenerated hair back out at the telltale of another of her half-truths. But Adena surprised him, seeming to catch herself about to gloss over the issue, and sighing. ¡°I guess we¡¯ve been through enough together for you two to deserve some honesty. First, have either of you figured out the full extent of what it means to be a Blight?¡±

    ¡°Going by what that loudmouth from the arena said, y-you¡¯re an assassin,¡± Raquel stammered.

    ¡°One that works in the interest of demons,¡± Rodrigo added, not bothering to hide his disgust. ¡°And having worked for the king himself, you seem the most influential.¡±

    Adena nodded, ignoring his accusatory tone. ¡°What I told you about there being six Blights is true. One for each great city. It was a program initiated by Misery a few years before he became king, recruiting capable humans to eliminate external threats to Hell. The demons were already doing it themselves, but sloppily, which is why possession is their most well-documented Flair in our world, despite its rarity in theirs. Typically, targets included demons who were deserting or humans with hard evidence of their existence.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡± Raquel asked, clenching her fists at her sides. ¡°How could anyone willingly join the demons like that? How could you?¡±

    ¡°Not everyone cares about the welfare of mankind. I certainly didn¡¯t. Likewise, the initial recruits were all solitary or down on their luck, and rewarded before the work even began.¡± Adena held up a gloved finger. ¡°One wish. Anything within the recruiting demon¡¯s power. My father, Lucas, was the ideal candidate, with an easily fulfilled desire for wealth. When Jezebeth approached him, he had been living on the streets for months after accidentally burning his own house down in the fire that killed his parents.¡±

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    Raquel gasped, but Rodrigo had heard as much before, and was more focused on not letting mention of Jezebeth taint the entire story. His thoughts were being pulled in a hundred different directions, and even without having a face to put to her name, Jezebeth occupied many of them. Part of him hoped he¡¯d never find her, because it would be the moment he lost something of himself.

    Adena noticed Rodrigo¡¯s aggravation, but continued, ¡°Lucas was the original Blight, and the most successful, going ten years before making his first major mistake. And that¡¯s where Craig came in. He¡¯s only alive today because of my father¡¯s poor decision to spare him, a witness to his work. And so, Misery gave my father an ultimatum. He was to kill one of his children to make amends for his failure, or he and everyone he cared about would be slaughtered.¡±

    ¡°Not much of a choice,¡± Rodrigo said, then cursed himself for stating the obvious.

    Thankfully, Adena didn¡¯t seem to hear his stupid comment as she stared into the distance. ¡°I heard my father creep into my room well past midnight, his footsteps unusually heavy. He loomed over my bed for what felt like hours as I pretended to sleep. Eventually, he left for my brother¡¯s room down the hall, and after a moment, I followed him.¡± Adena closed her eyes, and for a second Rodrigo thought she was going to cry. The thought unnerved him more than any of her glares or scowls. But when she continued, her voice was even, if quieter. ¡°I found my father hunched over Flint¡¯s lifeless body, still pressing one of his oversized stuffed bears to his face. The shame in his eyes as he saw me was all the explanation I needed at the time. I stuck my hand out...and burned him alive.¡±

    God. No wonder Adena was so ruthless. Misery must have been salivating at the justice of his disobedient Blight being killed by his own daughter. So much so that he made her his replacement. And after killing someone she loved, the next person must have been easy. Though Craig wasn¡¯t to blame for the fallout from Lucas¡¯ actions, Adena no doubt saw his survival as the catalyst for her family¡¯s destruction. As much as Rodrigo wanted to argue that none of this justified her role as Misery¡¯s Blight, in the pit, he had been ready to toss his morals aside so long as it meant avenging his brother. To criticize her for actually going through with it, and at a much younger, impressionable age, smacked of hypocrisy.

    A long silence stretched between them as they stood there. Where he wasn¡¯t covered in the armor he hadn¡¯t yet removed, Rodrigo felt the cold nipping at him. He reached for the car¡¯s passenger door, but Adena gently caught his wrist. ¡°On the phone, Craig told me the hospital¡¯s morgue was overflowing.¡± Rodrigo must have had a blank look on his face, because Adena continued, ¡°Carlito¡¯s still in there.¡±

    Rodrigo twisted out of her grip and stumbled back, his heart pounding. Somehow, that Carlito¡¯s body was just on the other side of that door hadn¡¯t occurred to him. He imagined the others had left his brother where he fell, or buried him somewhere near there. Now the responsibility was on his shoulders. Rodrigo drew a deep breath, grabbing the silver door handle again. ¡°Give me a minute.¡±

    He opened the door and slammed it shut behind him. There was a foul odor trapped in the car which he at first mistook for decay, but then recognized as the reek of burned flesh. Probably from Adena cauterizing Leila¡¯s stab wound. But when he saw the shape under the pristine white sheet resting on the bench seat, his offended sense of smell ceased to matter.

    Rodrigo¡¯s left hand was shaking as he slowly peeled the top of the sheet back. Even with knowing what he¡¯d find, he inhaled sharply at the sight of his brother, his best friend, his whole world, lying motionless in front of him. He was so small and fragile, more so than Rodrigo had been at his age. Someone had gone to the trouble of cleaning the blood from his face, but with crystal clarity, Rodrigo could still picture him bleeding out of his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

    Rodrigo turned away, pressing the thumb and index finger of his cold gauntlet against the back of his eyelids to stem the building tears.

    ¡°Weep if you must, but don¡¯t you dare dishonor him by averting your gaze,¡± Resent ordered. ¡°He died for your sake, refusing to be Jezebeth¡¯s pawn against you, and fighting her to the last. Engrave his sacrifice onto your very soul, and the next time you think of slacking off before training yourself to the point of exhaustion, remember...this is what weakness begets.¡±

    Rodrigo forced his eyes open and found his vision clouded with tears. He looked down upon the blurry outline of his brother¡¯s face, and let out a shuddering breath. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, bro. I promised to protect you. And I failed,¡± he said, his voice cracking, and at last he broke down entirely into a mess of blubbering and snot, resting his forehead against his brother¡¯s chest. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, I¡¯m so sorry, I¡¯m so sorry...¡±

    After the worst of the sobs had passed, and Rodrigo regained enough of his composure to think coherently, he asked, ¡°Tell me something, and don¡¯t lie to me because you saw him as a burden. These angels that can heal you. C-could they bring him back?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Resent said, and Rodrigo could feel his heart breaking all over again. ¡°Complex as it is, creating a body from the memories of a soul is well within the realm of possibility. Recreating a soul from scratch? The most accomplished of necromancers couldn¡¯t do such a thing.¡±

    If not even the supernatural offered a way to revive him, Rodrigo knew what the next step needed to be. He yanked the sheet off Carlito completely and placed his left arm under his back. ¡°Help me carry him, will you?¡±

    To Resent¡¯s credit, he had the decency not to argue the request, generating the nebulous arm, and wrapping it under Carlito¡¯s legs. Rodrigo pushed the door open with his foot and carried his brother¡¯s body outside. His cries must have been louder than he realized, because now Raquel was sobbing, too. Adena had her arms crossed, looking decidedly uncomfortable with all the emotion.

    Rodrigo jerked his chin toward her. ¡°I need you to cremate him.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Raquel squeaked, wiping the tears rolling down her face on her sleeve. ¡°In the middle of the street? Are you crazy? We need to have a funeral and send him off properly. Mom, Dad, Jett, Geo, Uncle Antonio. The whole family needs to be there.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Rodrigo asked, his voice hoarse with grief. ¡°To make some sad spectacle of someone who was one of the few bright spots in this world? Do you actually think he would have wanted that? To prolong the suffering of everyone who cared about him?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just about him!¡± Raquel screamed, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. ¡°What about the rest of us? We need closure.¡±

    Rodrigo barked a harsh, broken laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I won¡¯t be getting closure for this for as long as I live. And having a bunch of people who barely knew him singing hymns and chanting prayers over his casket won¡¯t help matters.¡±

    ¡°It could be a small service. Just immediate¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Rodrigo snapped, and Raquel flinched. He wasn¡¯t about to throw it in her face now, but they both knew she had treated Carlito like garbage most days. Bullying him because he made her feel intellectually inferior. It was as much her place to decide what to do with him as it was that deadbeat Edward¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m not going to have my little brother lying there, rotting away before my eyes, okay? I can¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Adena asked, as Rodrigo laid Carlito¡¯s body in the snow.

    He swallowed the heavy lump in his throat, and gave her a curt nod.

    ¡°Stand back.¡±

    When Rodrigo had given the body some space, dragging a kicking and shrieking Raquel with him, Adena raised her right arm to the sky. A small column of fire erupted from the ground, engulfing Carlito from head to toe.

    Raquel had stopped struggling and refused to watch, crying into Rodrigo¡¯s shoulder as he held her absently. He was in a dreamlike trance, his eyes glued to the scarlet flames as they melted the surrounding snow, then reduced Carlito¡¯s body to a pile of bone fragments and ash. The instant the flames died down, Rodrigo ripped a piece of cloth from his fauld and approached his brother¡¯s remains, not waiting for them to cool. He knelt and scooped up a handful of the ash and crumbling bone, grinding them into a fine gray powder in his fist before wrapping them in the cloth.

    ¡°Never again, bro,¡± Rodrigo vowed over the ashes. Then he rose, leaving the rest of what had been Carlito to scatter to the winter wind.

 Book 2 Prologue â€“ The Ancient One

    Barbatos shifted uneasily on the tri-horned throne. Forged in the visage of one of the six primordial demons, whose names had all long been lost to history, scant thought had been given to its comfort. This was his fourth time seated on it as protector, yet the feeling that he was unworthy of such an honor only grew in his dotage. It was undeniable that compared to even the average demon, he was and always had been frail. Yet because of his precognition and judiciousness, he managed to not only garner enough respect to become the high lord of the great city, Bittervale, but to instill a sense of stability that made his city even more prosperous than this here capital of Dreadmus.

    Although the elderly demon favored diplomacy over violence, in the months since donning the crown, he had been doing little apart from addressing the flood of political matters that had gone neglected during Misery¡¯s brief reign. He was convinced some of these petty nobles had restrained themselves from murdering one another in their land disputes and other such squabbles, simply because they craved to hear their ruler tell them that they were in the right. Because of that, having envisioned it hours prior, he had been eagerly anticipating the moment the massive throne room doors were shoved open with far more force than was necessary.

    Still in the body of that half-breed, the boy Misery had dubbed, Wrath, Prince Resent strode in. On Barbatos¡¯ orders, an investigation had been launched into the circumstances of that boy¡¯s birth. While it was impossible to deny his lineage, as tens of thousands had witnessed him manipulating the nebulae in the arena during his separation from the prince, there was still the matter of whether he was indeed Strife¡¯s spawn...or Resent¡¯s. Though, if the castle¡¯s servants were to be believed, Strife had taken up with a young woman seventeen years ago. And she had disappeared soon after her belly had started to swell. How such an otherwise astute king could stoop to such impropriety, not once, but twice, was beyond Barbatos¡¯ comprehension.

    Prince Resent was dressed in modern human clothing, like the most recent influx of slaves, and the right arm Misery had severed was replaced by one born of nebulae. He arrived at the bottom of the dais and sketched an exaggerated bow. ¡°Hello, King Barbatos.¡±

    ¡°Just Barbatos will do. Why have you returned without restoring your body, Prince Resent? Do you require assistance? Soldiers to do battle with the angels, perhaps?¡± Against his better judgment, Barbatos offered the prince one final chance. To eradicate both of Strife¡¯s descendants, the entire royal bloodline, that likely dated as far back as the origin of the demon species itself, would be no small thing. If Strife¡¯s firstborn abomination was still alive, the one Barbatos¡¯ own son, Murmur, had deserted with all those centuries ago, he was of less consequence than the cambion. At least the boy¡¯s impurities could be bred out.

    Prince Resent gave Barbatos one of his infamous lopsided smiles. An expression that usually held the ability to unnerve or infuriate whoever it was directed at, but now lacked a certain panache. ¡°Why ask questions you¡¯ve already foreseen the answer to?¡±

    ¡°Truthfully, I was hoping you would have the sense to rethink your current course of action. But I suppose that is too much to expect of one so young and imprudent.¡±

    With not having faced a single assassination attempt for many years due to his well-documented ability, Barbatos had chosen to exert great caution, gripping his fabled, golden war-horn since first having seen the vision. Now, he raised it to his dry, cracked lips and blew into it. The booming sound reverberated around the throne room, an assault in itself for beings with the keenest of hearing.

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    His personal guard, Bittervale¡¯s four greatest living arena conquerors, appeared as if from nowhere, blocking the path to the throne in a neat line. Their bodies were all marked with runic symbols that summoned them to Barbatos¡¯ immediate aid when his horn was blown, no matter their preoccupations or distance. Just outside, in the circular great hall leading to the throne room, a necromancer was masking his life energy behind a fade periapt and hiding among the larger statues of past rulers. He was lying in wait to capture the prince¡¯s soul on the moment of his demise. Admittedly, considering Resent¡¯s reduced strength in the half-breed¡¯s body, this stratagem was excessive, but Barbatos would leave nothing to chance.

    Resent¡¯s violet eyes flicked from conqueror to conqueror before coming to rest on Barbatos beyond them. He had the audacity to whistle. ¡°Well, would you look at this. Rolling out your big four just for me. And here I thought they were a deterrent intended for the other high lords. Do you truly fear me so, decrepit one?¡±

    As Barbatos watched the prince, his conceit bordering on caricature, as if that single trait comprised his entire personality, he grasped something that had not been clear in his glimpse into the future. And he felt relieved that the rightful king, a diavolik he had seen grow from an infant, doomed to never meet his father¡¯s twisted expectations, to a brash youth who spat in the face of them, was not so foolish as this. ¡°Dispose of this impostor.¡±

    As the four conquerors surrounded him, the impostor¡¯s face and posture relaxed, no longer needing to keep the charade going. In an instant, darkness crackled at his upper back, forming a pair of pitch-black bladed wings, akin to the skeletal wings of the fallen angels. His left wing sliced high and his right wing low, both cleaving through the unprepared demons around him. Armored heads and bodies clanked to the ground, as blood so dark it was nearly black, pooled at the impostor¡¯s boots.

    ¡°Nebulae...how?¡± Barbatos asked. Once he had realized this was an impostor, he disregarded the nebulae forming the arm as just another part of the illusion. The disbelief of that was compounded by the fact that for the first time in his life, his ability had failed him. In his vision, he had seen Resent brazenly march in and kill him with his bare hands, as the prince was fond of doing. ¡°What is this?¡±

    The impostor kept Resent¡¯s appearance and voice, but his entire demeanor had changed, becoming much more restrained. ¡°It¡¯s so simple that you were privileged to have lasted this long. Your glimpses into the future are critically flawed. They¡¯re only accurate the moment that you have them. Once I saw how self-assured you were, I knew you had laid a trap and I would actually need to try. Therefore, by greatly adjusting the situation you foresaw, you rendered it useless.¡±

    Barabatos had lived for two millennia. He did not fear death. Younger demons had died of old age, and with his body¡¯s regeneration slowing by the day, he had come to expect it at any moment. So, when he looked upon his killer, he didn¡¯t insult them both by reaching for his blade. Instead, he stroked his long gray beard, as he often did when contemplating something, for what he was certain would be the final time. ¡°What can you possibly hope to achieve through all this?¡±

    At the words, the razor-sharp wingtips that had stabbed out for the high lord halted inches from his skull. ¡°That would require far too much time to explain. Just know that I take no pleasure in this, ancient one. Despite our past disagreements, I bear you no malice, and would have spared you, were you not so set in your ways. As is, your death is a necessary injustice to prevent an even greater one.¡±

    Then the nebulae closed the distance.

 Chapter 47 â€“ Prank Gone Wrong

    ¡°Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap,¡± Geo said, pushing his right foot off the pavement as he rode down the street on his skateboard. The gray minivan in pursuit would catch up in seconds, and by the half-crazed looks on the faces of the guys up front, they¡¯d run him over if he didn¡¯t stop. His two friends were starting to lag behind him and if they got caught, he¡¯d have no choice but to fight. ¡°Pick up the pace before we get wrecked out here!¡±

    ¡°Geo, man, this is nuts!¡± Jamie yelled over the sound of their wheels scraping against the concrete. His long dark bangs were whipping in the wind with such intensity that Geo doubted his friend could see where he was going. ¡°We should duck indoors.¡±

    ¡°Nah, we stop, and they beat the hell outta us. It was just some M&M¡¯s. There¡¯s not even a scratch on that window.¡±

    ¡°I-I¡¯m gonna call the cops,¡± Wilson said, huffing and puffing like he was on the verge of an asthma attack.

    ¡°They don¡¯t got time for this. I already called for help, we just gotta get a little¡ª¡±

    Geo skidded to a halt as the minivan drove past him, then pulled to a stop in front of them. He turned, getting ready to skate off in the opposite direction, but his crew didn¡¯t have his stamina. They had been skating at top speed for blocks, desperate to get away, and were exhausted. A trio of grown muscle-heads got out of the car, one of them holding a crowbar.

    Geo glanced around at the few people passing by, none of them wanting to get involved. Everybody was all kumbaya in those first few weeks after the invasion, donating clothes and offering shelter, but that had quickly worn out its welcome, and now compassion was at an all-time low. He pulled his chrome bo staff with blue accents from his half-zipped backpack and spun it to extend it to its full-length. Back when he was younger, he¡¯d done some Karate for a couple of months before losing interest, but he¡¯d at least learned to use the staff competently. ¡°Yo, I¡¯ve faced down demons with this thing. Think I¡¯m scared of you assholes? You best fall back.¡±

    The guys in front of Geo snorted with laughter at his bluff. He must have been shaking. Despite both being older and taller than him, neither Jamie nor Wilson were scrappers. One-on-one, he was pretty sure he could take any of these guys, but this wasn¡¯t a movie, and murder-rates were through the roof. One of them made a run at Geo, so he smacked his staff into the man¡¯s ribs.

    The man swore, taking a step back. As Jamie and Wilson whooped from the sidelines, Geo¡¯s confidence soared. ¡°See? What¡¯d I tell you? Keep testing me and you¡¯re gonna regret it.¡±

    The other two ran at him and Geo swept his staff in an arc, aiming for the legs of the one with the crowbar. As the man jumped over it and raised the forked piece of iron above Geo¡¯s head, he grasped that this entire string of events were not some of his better life-choices. Wilson was sprinting toward him, but even if he didn¡¯t have all that blubber weighing him down, he¡¯d never make it.

    Before the crowbar could hit its mark, a teenager with dark blue hair, shaved short on the sides and back, caught it in his gloved right hand. ¡°You¡¯re seriously about to bludgeon a kid for throwing some candy at your car? Don¡¯t think that¡¯s going a little overboard?¡±

    Geo exhaled and drew back, standing by Wilson on the sidewalk to watch the show. This was gonna be good.

    ¡°Dude, who¡¯s that?¡± Wilson whispered. ¡°I thought you were calling Jett so he could put some of that boxing to use. That guy¡¯s smaller than me.¡±

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    Geo chuckled, then realized that with the long-sleeved shirts Rodrigo was forced to wear now, it was impossible for a stranger to tell how much muscle he had packed on recently. ¡°That¡¯s my cousin. Trust me, he¡¯s got this.¡±

    ¡°One of that Karma kid¡¯s groupies? You actually think you can do anything alone?¡± the man with the crowbar asked. Caity Wright, news anchor turned host of the world¡¯s most popular talk show about all things supernatural, had unintentionally given Rodrigo the name with her ill-timed, overexcited cheer, ¡®Now, that¡¯s karma!¡¯ She had been reacting to his first appearance footage from the Bloodstone hotel, a video that had now racked up over a billion views online.

    Rodrigo released the crowbar and held his hands up in a placating gesture. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to find out. Look, you gave them a good scare, and they learned their lesson. I doubt they¡¯ll do anything like this again. How about we just call it¡ª¡±

    The guy that Geo had hit in the ribs, took a swing at Rodrigo. Geo could tell his cousin had to slow his reaction time for onlookers as he side-stepped the blow. With his left hand, Rodrigo curled his fingers inward and using the heel of his palm, struck the man in the nose, smashing it in a spurt of blood. In his right hand, Rodrigo caught a kick from the other unarmed man and shoved his foot up, knocking him to the ground. Crowbar-guy, who seemed like the ringleader, was the only one still standing.

    ¡°Now,¡± Rodrigo said, all levity leaving his voice as it dropped in pitch. ¡°Get in the car and drive away before you get something you don¡¯t want.¡±

    The crowbar-guy must have seen something in Rodrigo¡¯s hazel eyes, convincing him that pushing things further would end badly because after his two friends collected themselves, he listened.

    ¡°Is my girl¡¯s brother a gangster?¡± Jamie asked, nearly cowering behind Wilson¡¯s bulk.

    Geo turned to him and blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve been wondering cuz he stays wearing black and purple...he¡¯s even got the dyed hair. Those are the Dusks colors.¡±

    ¡°The Dusks ain¡¯t a gang, they¡¯re vigilantes.¡±

    ¡°Still, he¡¯s one of them?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess. He doesn¡¯t talk about it,¡± Geo said. Being able to blend in with a group of teens and young adults inspired by Karma was a convenient cover for the real deal to continue dressing the way he did.

    ¡°If you guys are going to cut school, how about staying inside and playing video games?¡± Rodrigo asked as he came over to them. ¡°This isn¡¯t the old days when you could go around pulling dumb-ass pranks.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the save, dude, but ¡®the old days¡¯ were only five months ago,¡± Wilson said. Geo wondered how Rodrigo would react if he mentioned that this was the Wilson who told him about the house on Swan Street where Jett said some creature had nearly killed them all.

    ¡°Exactly. What the demons did is still fresh. People are pissed and looking for any excuse to go off the deep end. Don¡¯t be the ones to give it to them. Especially, when you¡¯re not ready to face the consequences.¡± Rodrigo fixed Jamie in particular with a hard stare as he said that. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m taking my cousin home. You two stay safe.¡±

    After Geo gave them each a fist bump, Wilson and Jamie skated off.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to stop doing this,¡± Rodrigo said.

    ¡°Are you serious? You don¡¯t even go to school anymore,¡± Geo said.

    ¡°Because all that needs to happen is for someone to say or do anything to set his highness off, and my secret¡¯s out. Besides, I¡¯m not talking about cutting class. This is the third time you¡¯ve called me to have your back and the situations keep getting worse. If I showed up a second later today, at best, you would be on your way to a hospital.¡±

    Geo sighed. Rodrigo was getting a bit preachy lately. Probably because his alter ego was a bigger deal right now than virtually any celebrity, athlete, or politician. Most Americans thought Karma was a gift from God, others imagined he was the devil himself. Funny how close to the truth the second of the two was. Still, so long as Rodrigo didn¡¯t rat him out to his brother, he¡¯d gladly keep enduring the sermons.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get why you won¡¯t call Jett. Even from his school he could make it to you way faster than I could. Better punished and alive than dead, you know?¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay, I got it. I¡¯ll call him next time,¡± Geo said, though really he was wondering whether Adena cared about him enough to come through if he needed her. ¡°So, are we going to the base or what?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Come on,¡± Rodrigo said, and they started walking.

 Chapter 48 â€“ New World Order

    Rodrigo needed to take some time to learn how to drive, because the mile-long walk back to the warehouse had been downright depressing. The streets were ripe with newly made alcoholics and drug addicts, who he could hardly blame. With all the devastation from the two-day demon invasion and not nearly enough construction workers to go around, renovations were being concentrated on New York¡¯s wealthier neighborhoods. It was estimated that it would take years to restore the city to its former glory, and as a result, a lot of people were homeless. Sprawling tent cities had sprung up everywhere from parks to under bridges.

    And yet, with tens of millions around the world either dead or missing, Rodrigo knew from his own losses that it had been all the murdered loved ones that had broken so many spirits. He brushed his fingers against the silver anchor pendant hanging around his neck, just to make sure it was still there.

    At first, the average person had been reluctant to accept the absurdity of demons straight out of Hell. In the hours after the demons withdrew, wild rumors and theories had been flying around about how they were some country¡¯s disastrous lab experiment, or a totally new form of warfare. But disproving Adena¡¯s belief about former Vice President Blackthorn surviving because he was a demon-possessed mole, on the night of his inauguration he had hit the grieving, hysterical public with some cold, hard truths. No, these were not man-made creatures and no, they were not a foreign threat, they were extra-dimensional beings.

    In reality, those theories from the early days weren¡¯t far off the mark. Hell itself was actually a version of earth thousands of years into the future where Murphy¡¯s law had run rampant, though that wasn¡¯t common knowledge. And so, with a war unlike any other on the horizon, America, Russia, China, and every other country with two nukes to rub together, enacted the draft to replace the countless soldiers that were lost. Not long after that, with having to combat an immeasurably superior enemy, the global Demon Negation Force had been founded.

    The entire walk to the warehouse, Geo seemed to be spoiling for another fight, as he twirled his retracted staff and glared at anyone who stepped too close. Off in the Dominican Republic with his father, Antonio, during the invasion, he hadn¡¯t experienced the level of violence on the island that had occurred here and seemed blind to the city¡¯s increased dangers. Rodrigo had hoped the kid would¡¯ve pulled himself together by now, but he was always a bit of a troublemaker. Geo¡¯s mom, Emelina, was apparently the only person capable of keeping him in check and it was becoming clear that his self-control died with her.

    ¡°So, the brat has a death wish?¡± a voice in Rodrigo¡¯s head asked. ¡°What human doesn¡¯t at this point? Why not tell the twig and let him deal with it?¡±

    ¡°Resent, as much as I want to fill Jett in, I don¡¯t think that would solve anything,¡± he responded as a conscious thought. It was amazing how communicating with his biological father, the Prince of Hell, had become mundane. ¡°Honestly, telling him or their dad would probably make things worse.¡±

    That Emelina¡¯s funeral had finally come up in the queue and was scheduled for the day after tomorrow didn¡¯t help matters. By the time Antonio and Geo had made it back to the states, millions had already beaten them to the funeral homes. Even with cremation at an all-time high, graveyards were overflowing and older plots were being dug up to be re-used.

    Whether Rodrigo¡¯s mother, Miriam, planned to attend her older sister¡¯s funeral, or was even still alive, he had no idea. But he had actually been brushing up on his Spanish, because he heard the grandparents he had never met were driving over from Miami for it. Air travel was considered high-risk since the invasion. During it, hundreds of planes had dropped out of the sky because of attacks from imps, their offspring with diavoliks, the malformed, and the many other winged demonic races.

    Outside what looked like little more than a run-down warehouse, Rodrigo glanced around to make sure no one suspicious was lurking nearby, then stuck his key card into a slot to the left of the large doors. It was inconspicuous unless you knew where to look. After his card was verified, a fingerprint scanner opened up in the wall. He slipped off his black leather glove and placed his left index finger on it, causing the screen to turn from blue to green.

    ¡°How come I don¡¯t get a card?¡± Geo asked as the steel double doors parted.

    ¡°Because you don¡¯t live here,¡± Rodrigo said.

    As they entered the vast space with exposed brick walls and high ceilings, the doors shut automatically behind them. The living room, dining room, and kitchen all led into one another seamlessly, but the gym doubled as the armory, and so needed to be unlocked by key card. Two staircases with steel and glass railings led up to the private rooms.

    Geo put his backpack and skateboard on the floor by the standing coat rack, keeping his blue fitted cap backward on his head. ¡°Jett¡¯s got a card.¡±

    ¡°He needs it for when we go hunting.¡±

    With Resent¡¯s ability to regenerate from most wounds within minutes, Rodrigo had gone out every single night to hunt the demons who refused to obey the high lords¡¯ order to withdraw. Whether he genuinely cared about the safety of strangers, or merely needed an outlet for those surges of rage he felt when he turned to share something with his brother and found only empty air, Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure himself. Though it had taken Jett time to warm to the idea, barring injury, he joined him frequently.

    To their credit, the D.N.F had blockaded and posted sentry guns around many of the gateways between Earth and Hell. Though the portals were seldom in plain sight, and the symbols etched into the ground or walls were invisible to the human eye, the locations of those that saw the most use were obvious to anyone who paid attention to the demons¡¯ retreat. Still, there were times when these measures, and even the drone strikes that followed if they failed, weren¡¯t enough to stop the entry of squads or a particularly powerful demon. Worse still, the uncounted demons who had never returned to Hell, and had gone into hiding to bide their time.

    ¡°So, when can I start hunting those bastards with you guys?¡± Geo asked.

    Geo might be impulsive, but he wasn¡¯t stupid. He must have known that a boy with a stick would be nothing but a burden against a demon. But Rodrigo was all too familiar with the impotent fury the demons instilled in people, so he tried to soften the blow. ¡°You already know the answer to that. I don¡¯t even let Raquel go, and she¡¯s like a mini-Lara Croft these days.¡±

    ¡°Fine, be like that. I¡¯m gonna go train.¡± Geo went off to the gym.

    Rodrigo planned to join him, but he needed to recharge first. He went up the right staircase to the open hallway on the second floor, which overlooked the first. He paused outside the door next to his own. His sister¡¯s room was often shared with his childhood friend, Leila, who had been staying at the warehouse less often since reuniting with her adoptive parents. A fact that both relieved and disappointed him. But he had no business worrying about dating in his condition. Not so long as his father was inside his head, watching, or worse, feeling what such things might lead to.

    Rodrigo kept walking and used his key card to unlock his door. His floor was littered with equipment looted from the demons he and Resent had killed, weapons and armor he could make a pretty penny selling on the black market, if he cared to risk arrest. He climbed the ladder to his bed¡¯s top bunk and stretched out on it. The nebulae that he used to form his right arm dissipated, causing his sleeve and glove to deflate. Rodrigo had come a long way from when he first started doing it shortly after Misery cut his arm off at the shoulder. But the drain of maintaining the nebulous appendage caught up with him hourly.

    As Rodrigo took deep breaths, Resent said, ¡°Your recovery times are lengthening. You should sleep.¡±

    ¡°You just want uninterrupted control.¡±

    ¡°Obviously. When we came to our agreement, I didn¡¯t anticipate your gains in vitality.¡± In the past five months, the Prince of Hell had made huge improvements on his ability to possess Rodrigo¡¯s body. For one, he no longer needed to obey the human body¡¯s need for sleep. With that in mind, it was only fair that when Rodrigo slept, Resent took control. Problem was, during that time, Rodrigo had been making gains of his own.

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    Sure, he had gone from his only source of regular exercise being PE class to working out and fighting for his life every day, but his progress was inhuman. Being able to stay awake for 48 hours straight, without choking down any of the bitter coffee Adena swore by, was just one of his recent enhancements. According to Resent, as a half-demon or to be precise, a cambion, Rodrigo could have gone his whole life being practically identical to a human. However, once Resent taught him how to use the nebulae, his evolution began.

    Rodrigo brought the nebulae back out, reforming his arm, starting at the shoulder. Learning to make it in proportion with his left had been a challenge. Now it was second nature.

    After Rodrigo was back on his feet, he went down to the gym. Geo was practicing his staff drills on a dummy near the treadmill Adena was running on. Ever since she denied his request to mentor him, flat out saying she didn¡¯t believe he had much potential, he had been training relentlessly. Rodrigo wondered whether that was her strategy all along or a happy coincidence.

    Rodrigo decided to start off his workout with some calisthenics. It could be inconvenient at times being restricted to using just his left arm, but the nebulae-generated appendage was far stronger than the rest of him and made everything a breeze. Adjusting the nebulae to match his strength-level seemed impossible, which was why he¡¯d never use it to strike a human-being. Thanks to Resent¡¯s boundless appetite and rapid regeneration repairing the body¡¯s muscles, Rodrigo had managed to bulk up significantly from the scrawny boy he once was. Unlike Jett and Adena, he was more stocky than lean.

    After a while, Adena took a break from running and came over to him in a black tank top and sweats. With snow-white hair that reached her shoulders and those pale blue eyes, she had a striking beauty to her, as if she had emerged from a painting. Even now that he outweighed her, and they were almost the same height, Rodrigo still felt like a child in her presence.

    ¡°Up for a spar?¡± Adena asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m down. Sword fight, Flairs, or mano-a-mano?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go with swords, but don¡¯t cheat this time. Keep it to a human level.¡± Despite Geo being too absorbed in his training to eavesdrop as he smashed his staff into the free-standing torso¡¯s head, Adena kept her tone low.

    Having come after Rodrigo in Hell when he had been captured by Misery, she and Raquel were the only ones that knew he was a cambion. But unlike Raquel and all the demons, who believed he was Resent¡¯s half-brother, she alone knew he was Resent¡¯s son. Needing to unburden himself, Rodrigo had outright told her during one late-night training session. She was the sole person he trusted wouldn¡¯t tell anyone else. In a strange twist of fate, this girl who burned his house down and choked him unconscious upon their first meeting, had become his closest friend.

    Rodrigo grabbed a scimitar off the wall, and Adena chose her favorite, the spatha. It was a straight sword mainly used by the Romans, that matched his scimitar in length. When he first drew a blade against her months back, his experience as a childhood fencing champion years behind him, he wasn¡¯t even capable of coming close to cutting her. But between her instruction and Resent advising him in his head, he was now on a par with her. In fact, if he used his newfound strength and speed, he could overwhelm her. Though since the sword was only one of several weapons Adena was skilled with, it felt like less of an accomplishment than it should have been.

    They went back and forth for some time. In the early days, knowing he would regenerate, Adena had opened gashes along his body when given the opportunity. Now, like him, she stopped short right before making contact. Whether out of affection or because she was tired of buying him new clothes was anyone¡¯s guess.

    Rodrigo sheathed his scimitar as his heightened senses heard the front doors swish open, then Raquel¡¯s hurried footsteps up the stairs and to her room, no doubt to video chat with Jamie. If there was one thing that Rodrigo agreed with Miriam on, it was her dislike of the fourteen-year-old boy. As an eighth grader, Jamie just standing by while Geo, a seventh grader, got jumped by three grown men, was the perfect example of why Rodrigo wasn¡¯t fond of him. Still, no good would come from getting all paternal and trying to force Raquel to stop dating him.

    The metal door of the gym slid open and Jett came in. Though the four claw marks left on his right cheek by one of the hounds that butchered his mother had healed in jagged scars, he was one of the lucky ones. He greeted Rodrigo and Adena with a nod before storming over to Geo. ¡°You could¡¯ve saved me the gas and shot me a text saying you weren¡¯t at school.¡±

    Geo ceased beating on the dummy and took a seat on a bench. Dripping with sweat, he took a swig of water. ¡°My bad, brah.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all you¡¯ve got to say for yourself?¡±

    ¡°What else you want?¡±

    ¡°I dunno, maybe an explanation? You¡¯re going to school, like, what? Two or three days a week now? Do you wanna get left back? Because that¡¯s how you do it.¡±

    Geo sucked his teeth. ¡°Who cares? The school doesn¡¯t bother to call Dad anymore. Even they know it don¡¯t matter. Not like they¡¯re teaching us anything that would help against the demons.¡±

    It was in moments like this that Rodrigo realized he and Geo were more similar than he cared to admit. The lack of mandatory demonology courses at this point was exactly why Rodrigo couldn¡¯t be bothered to worry about earning his high school diploma. It wasn¡¯t like he ever had a career path mapped out. What was he supposed to do? Finish school so he could end up working the nine-to-five grind while demons roamed the streets? That felt like clinging to what the world used to be, instead of what it was now. Truthfully, the risk of Resent taking over and going on a killing spree during one dull class too many was an afterthought.

    Jett rolled his eyes. ¡°Bring your attendance up or I¡¯ll tell Pa myself.¡±

    As Jett turned his back, Geo pointed at him with his middle fingers and made popping sounds with his mouth. Adena¡¯s almost smile made the older brother spin around, at which point the younger was whistling innocently.

    ¡°Maybe you should get your dad to sign him up for home-schooling,¡± Rodrigo said as Jett came over to him. Adena had offered to enroll him in the online education program she had used all her life, graduating from high school at fourteen. Since you paid the same rate either way, it allowed you to go as quickly as you were able. While unorthodox before, home-schooling had almost become the norm in these dangerous times when population centers made for ideal targets. ¡°He could do it on one of the computers here so we can keep an eye on him.¡±

    ¡°Might have to go that route. Anyway, you look exhausted, Ruy. Are you gonna be able to come patrolling tonight?¡±

    Rodrigo was surprised. ¡°You still want to go, even with your school¡¯s party tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Jett said. ¡°If I get hurt and miss it, it¡¯s whatever. I won¡¯t let people die because I wanna have a good time.¡±

    ¡°This is a far cry from when he first activated his Flair,¡± Resent said. It was, and though he honestly wasn¡¯t sure how Jett juggled school and boxing as well, Rodrigo was grateful for his cousin¡¯s commitment.

    Adena sighed. ¡°You two still want to waste time on that?¡±

    ¡°Which one exactly?¡± Jett asked. It was clear she meant the party, but her disinterest in protecting people from the demons was a sore point with him. Working as one of Misery¡¯s Blights had severely diminished Adena¡¯s sense of empathy. During those eight years, she was responsible for ending hundreds of lives, primarily those of demons who deserted Hell or humans with hard evidence of their existence. Early on, Rodrigo had questioned his own tolerance of living under the same roof as an assassin. But not only would they all be dead if not for her, the invasion probably never would have ended. Plus, her motivation being avenging her family had always struck a chord with him.

    Adena ignored Jett¡¯s thinly veiled hostility. ¡°I just don¡¯t see how an introvert and a recluse are supposed to enjoy themselves at something like this.¡±

    ¡°Is it bad that I had to think for a second about which one I was?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Yeah, Ruy, it is,¡± Jett said. ¡°And you guys can¡¯t back out now. Leila¡¯s coming, too, and it¡¯ll be weird if it¡¯s just us. I¡¯m not saying be normal, but you need to get outta this warehouse and socialize a bit.¡±

    ¡°All right, fair enough. If there¡¯s any day for me to try to de-stress, it¡¯s tomorrow. Listen, I¡¯m gonna rest and tag Resent in. If I don¡¯t wake up in time for the hun...patrol, make sure he goes with you.¡±

    ¡°Do not charge me with babysitting,¡± Resent said.

    ¡°What? Are you already tired of tracking down the demons that disobeyed you?¡± The prince had been the one to convince the high lords to recall their forces, so any demon defying them was defying him.

    Resent offered no answer as he took over, forcing Rodrigo¡¯s mind into the passenger seat. Initially, it was difficult to sleep without being in a bed, but like with all the other bizarre things that had infiltrated his life, he adapted. Blocking out the excess noise as his vision began to fade, Rodrigo could only hope that he wouldn¡¯t kick-start his seventeenth birthday by waking up to chaos.

 Chapter 49 â€“ A Very Unmerry Birthday

    Rodrigo was sitting on a bed in his room. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn¡¯t the room he had been living in for the past several months, but the one he had lived in for sixteen years prior. The one that had gone up in flames.

    ¡°So, bro, are you a good guy or a bad guy?¡± a voice asked from his right.

    Rodrigo turned to the source sitting next to him, and shuddered. With tan skin a shade lighter than his own, those bright green eyes, and his mop of curly black hair, Carlito was as he remembered him.

    Rodrigo was lucid enough to realize this was a dream. One of the many memories of his last days with his brother that his subconscious enjoyed tormenting him with. At the time, Rodrigo had just gotten into a scuffle with two older teens, during which Resent had taken control of his body for the first time. It was the prince¡¯s excessive use of force that had frightened Carlito into asking such a question.

    Still, Rodrigo tilted his head back, looking up at the old house¡¯s plaster ceiling, stained with water from when his mother had flooded her bathroom on the third floor. He pondered the question as if it had been meant for the current him. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know anymore. At first, I fought the demons out of disgust for their cruelty. The pointlessness of it. That I was helping people and getting stronger at the same time were bonuses. But with every demon I kill, not watch as Resent uses my hands...well, hand, to kill, but that I personally kill myself, it feels like a small part of me slips away with them.¡±

    Rodrigo hadn¡¯t been able to bring himself to confide in anyone about this. Adena and Resent were hardened killers, with body counts in the hundreds and thousands respectively. He imagined they would either laugh at or not even comprehend such doubts. Like most people, Jett considered human life precious, but viewed demons as little more than monsters to be destroyed. And Leila had been scared off by his single violent outburst when they were children. If she knew of the coldness growing within him, she¡¯d be terrified. He might consider therapy if it didn¡¯t mean he would need to reveal his identity.

    Rodrigo swallowed in a throat that felt like it was filled with sandpaper. ¡°And the craziest part is, even though I¡¯m murdering intelligent life, some of which look almost exactly like humans except for their eyes, the average person is so bitter and broken, they don¡¯t just praise me for it, they act like I...Karma¡¯s the second coming of Christ.¡±

    He admired and respected Caity Wright. But he wasn¡¯t a fan of the name her faux pas had saddled him with. How holier-than-thou it made him sound. Plenty of names he would¡¯ve preferred had come out in the days after the invasion. Eclipse, Strikeback, and Shadow Boy to name a few, but by that point, Karma had stuck.

    ¡°Part of me understands. I¡¯d probably feel the same in their shoes. But I can¡¯t help but be somewhat...disappointed, I guess. That all these billions of people, who encourage a teenager to kill for their sake or die trying, survived while you, who I¡¯ve seen go to the trouble of catching insects just to release them outside, didn¡¯t.¡±

    Finally, he turned to Carlito, expecting to see a skull, or maybe the demoness, Jezebeth¡¯s red eyes staring back at him, reminding him that the ten-year-old was dead and gone. Instead, his brother had his brows raised. He let out a nervous chuckle. ¡°Are you okay, bro? Do you want an aspirin or something?¡±

    When he heard those words, words that Carlito had never actually spoken, Rodrigo¡¯s eyes widened. He allowed hope to rear its ugly head, yearning for this to be real. He needed it to be. All the events that followed this moment could have been a figment of an overactive imagination, and he¡¯d be okay with that. Rodrigo pulled his brother in for a crushing hug.

    It was seconds later, when he felt something warm and damp trickle down his neck, that the fantasy was shattered. Pushing away, he saw the blood leaking out of Carlito¡¯s eyes, nostrils, mouth, and ears. The consequence of him resisting Jezebeth¡¯s control over him. Rodrigo shot up and turned away, refusing to be subjected to this sight for the hundredth time.

    But the nightmare had its hooks in him now, and a second Carlito was in front of him, muttering something too quiet to be heard, as his senses died. Rodrigo shut his eyes as if those thin folds of skin could protect him from the truth, but the flickering orange glow piercing the darkness forced his eyelids open. A third Carlito was burning now, showing the final way in which Rodrigo had failed him. Being too much of a coward to even grant his little brother a proper farewell.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Rodrigo screamed, his right arm, flesh and blood until now, decaying to reveal the pitch-black replacement of reality, thrust for Carlito¡¯s throat within the flames. His clawed fingertips stopped short. Even in his imagination he couldn¡¯t bring himself to hurt his brother.

    Rodrigo wrapped his arms around Carlito, hugging him tight. Combusting alongside him, numb to the physical pain of his blistering skin, his eyes welled with tears as he whispered into his brother¡¯s dissolving ear, ¡°I¡¯m sorry...I¡¯m sorry...I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    #

    When the nightmare ended, Rodrigo was in a fouler mood than he¡¯d been in for a while. Other than Adena, who had been an insomniac for years, horrible dreams plagued his entire group following the invasion. In the first week, the dreams had been so intense that to avoid them, everyone pushed themselves to stay awake for as long as humanly possible, and no one was comfortable sleeping in a room alone. The dreams where Rodrigo recalled the massacre and destruction were upsetting, but the more personal ones, ones that reflected his weakness and poor judgment, tore at his guts like a pack of rabid dogs.

    As Rodrigo tried to put his past failures out of mind, his attention turned toward what was happening in the present. There were a half-dozen men lying on the ground of an outdoor basketball court with knives and makeshift weapons littered around them. Their bodies were bloodied, broken, and contorted. Resent was seated on a nearby bench and digging through a stack of wallets.

    ¡°What the hell have you done now?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Calm yourself. They struck first and I generously left them breathing. After your incessant objections to all my more lucrative suggestions, you¡¯ve forced me to lower myself to a common brigand. If it assuages your conscience, consider it their payment for infringing upon my time.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Since coming to the realization that they needed to keep a low-profile and therefore, he couldn¡¯t just take whatever he wanted by force, Resent had become mildly obsessed with obtaining money. Not wanting to owe Adena any more than he already did, Resent refused to accept anything beyond shelter from the young multimillionaire.

    At first, after watching one UFC rerun too many, Resent wanted to partake in underground fighting, but abandoned the idea when he learned he¡¯d need to wear little clothing and wouldn¡¯t be able to hide the nebulous arm. Then after doing some research using ¡°the Google¡±, he was convinced of having put together a master plan for robbing a bank. Though Rodrigo had talked the prince out of it at the time, he still expected to stumble into a large sum of stolen bills one of these days.

    ¡°So, I guess accepting that job offer from the D.N.F is still out of the question, huh?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    Resent scoffed as he rose, pocketing his ill-gotten gains. ¡°Slaying my fellow demons for insubordination is one thing. Being paid by the humans to do their dirty work for them is another.¡±

    ¡°Point taken.¡± Even if Resent wasn¡¯t in the picture, Rodrigo would have had his own reservations about being a military asset. Sure, they¡¯d be satisfied with him focusing his efforts on the demons, at first. Until the government got a better handle on dealing with them, and decided to send him after the rogue states that had withdrawn from the United Nations, uninterested in joining the Negation Force. ¡°Anyway, what about Jett? Don¡¯t tell me you let him go after the demons on his own.¡±

    ¡°When I reach the end of my hour, you¡¯re free to seek him out.¡±

    ¡°Is it my birthday yet?¡±

    ¡°Irrelevant.¡±

    On Geo¡¯s thirteenth birthday in January, Resent, ray of sunshine as usual, had shared that in Hell, all a birthday entitled you to was coming one year closer to the end of your lifespan. Apparently, the closest thing demons had to a holiday was the annual tournament held in the capital on the date of the current ruler¡¯s appointment. The winner attained the title of conqueror, a rank that mostly granted them independence from the hierarchy of Hell¡¯s legions. Only the high lord of a conqueror¡¯s city and the ruler themselves had any sway over them.

    ¡°Look, Resent, I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s you or me, but someone needs to meet up with Jett. I¡¯m not gonna leave him out there on his own because you want to make a couple hundred bucks.¡±

    ¡°By my estimate, I¡¯ve procured a few thousand today.¡±

    Before Rodrigo could ask how he managed that, Resent passed by a tinted car window and his reflection provided the answer. He was aware Resent had purchased his own wardrobe of high-end clothing, but this was the most flamboyant Rodrigo had ever seen him. Strolling through sketchy neighborhoods in the dead of night, while wearing a black silk shirt with diamond cufflinks and a gold studded belt, was like sticking a neon ¡°mug me¡± sign on his back. It was predatory behavior, luring people in that way, but as someone who couldn¡¯t have defended themselves half as well would¡¯ve been targeted otherwise, Rodrigo had a hard time dredging up sympathy for Resent¡¯s victims.

    Resent removed his right glove and placed his index finger to the keyhole on the door of a black-and-gold Mercedes-Benz. The nebulae entered the lock, molding themselves into the bit of a key, and unlocking the door with a twist.

    ¡°Uh, what are you doing?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Going to the twig¡¯s rescue as requested.¡±

    ¡°I mean with the car. This isn¡¯t one of Adena¡¯s. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re not only stealing money, but cars, too. Can you not turn my life into a Grand Theft Auto game?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m merely borrowing it.¡± Resent slid into the driver¡¯s seat, putting his right hand to the ignition and the nebulae started the car. He had learned how to drive by observing Jett and Adena, but unlike them, paid alarmingly little attention to speed-limits or traffic signals. The only reason Rodrigo could see for Resent not having been pulled over yet was the overwhelming amount of far worse crimes being perpetrated.

    ¡°Can you at least try not to get us arrested?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Do you actually think I would permit that? Now, stop pestering me, mongrel, before I decide to carry on with my business.¡±

    Rodrigo left it at that. Although he never had anything resembling control over Resent, the prince had gotten progressively worse as his skill with possession grew and it became harder for Rodrigo to mentally overcome him. They really needed to go back to Hell and gather more information on these absent angels who could supposedly restore Resent¡¯s original body. However, the few portals Adena knew of were all under military guard 24/7. With just seven months left until Resent was passed over for the throne, the unsettling possibility of the two of them sharing Rodrigo¡¯s body indefinitely became more likely each day.

    Resent came to an abrupt stop about an hour later, allowing his spiky hair to drop down into Rodrigo¡¯s Caesar style. Unfortunately, he was still unable to keep his irises from turning purple and pupils from reshaping into slits, and had to rely on contact lenses. In the backpack next to him, under wads of small bills, were Rodrigo¡¯s clothes. Resent glanced at the black and purple threads, the color scheme alone now synonymous with Karma. He seemed to mull something over, then got out of the car.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you gonna change clothes?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s no time. A multitude of demons are headed our way. Strange. For all your military¡¯s faults, they are not lacking in persistence. I find it hard to believe they wouldn¡¯t engage a group so large.¡±

    Resent was using a sixth sense that all demons were born with, as natural as sight was for humans. It allowed him to perceive the location and species of nearby living things via their life energy. Rodrigo¡¯s own energy sense was still a work in progress, so it certainly didn¡¯t give him room to doubt Resent¡¯s. But they should be able to see a horde like that. Not to mention, while the mere sight of a demon or two wasn¡¯t enough to send most people into a panic anymore, a mob like he was suggesting was another story. It was past midnight, so there were few people outside their homes, shelters, or camps, though none of them looked particularly frightened.

    All of a sudden, Rodrigo registered the demons in question, like a prickling of cold on his skin. Two, five, ten...too many for him to count. And yet still, there were no other signs of them.

    ¡°Are they traveling underground?¡± Rodrigo asked. Through the historical texts pertaining to demons that Adena had lent him, he had educated himself on the most prominent demonic races, beyond what Resent was willing to share. There were so few books based on factual information that had been translated into English, but several referenced the fur-covered kincree, small creatures who burrowed through the ground in groups as large as a thousand.

    ¡°Not quite.¡± Resent¡¯s gaze was downcast, sweeping all around.

    Within the next second, a slew of demons belonging to various races sprouted up from the asphalt, encircling him. Tires screeched as all at once, multiple surrounding vehicles crashed. Then the screaming began.

 Chapter 50 â€“ High Volt-Edge

    Ignoring the fleeing bystanders, the demons that had popped up from the ground like a deadly game of whack-a-mole continued to close ranks around Resent. An ogre¡¯s fist, the size of his torso, came hurtling at him, and in that instant, Resent lengthened and increased the mass of the nebulous arm to the point that it burst the sleeve of his shirt. He met the ogre¡¯s punch, shattering some bones in its hand as it was blown backward. Despite their numbers, hesitance rippled through the group at this display of power.

    Noticing the uncharacteristically light colors the demons were dressed in and the winged half-masks the hounds wore, Resent said, ¡°Now, this is a surprise. I was under the assumption Vicearians knew better than to oppose me by now. Yet here are a score of you who have obviously been hunting me. I realize demons under the yoke of fallen scum lead miserable existences, but do you all have so little to live for?¡±

    If anything, Rodrigo was expecting them to be from Hell¡¯s second largest city, Maligmere. More than half of the demons they encountered since their meeting with the council of high lords, hailed from there. The sole member of the council that feared retaliation from humanity, was the great city¡¯s high lord, Dissonantia. During the meeting, she had protested Resent¡¯s request for retreat and since then, it was clear she wasn¡¯t enforcing it. In contrast, the great city of Vicearia¡¯s high lord, the fallen angel, Semiazas, was the first to agree to withdrawing his troops and seemed to have them in check. Until now.

    ¡°Orders from king,¡± the ogre said. Its voice was startlingly child-like. In all this time, Rodrigo had never heard a single ogre articulate, so he wasn¡¯t sure whether they all sounded that way or if this one was just on the young side.

    ¡°Barbatos? But why would he¡ª¡±

    Someone tapped Resent on the shoulder. When he whirled to strike them, he was staring at the ankle of a giant in casual white clothes, who made even the ogre seem minuscule. Or that was Rodrigo¡¯s initial impression. Looking past him, all the demons were far larger than they had been a second ago. When the being in white swung a croquet mallet several times longer than Resent¡¯s body at him, Rodrigo could only assume they had been shrunk.

    Resent blocked the blow, but with the severe decrease in his mass, still went flying into the air. Crashing through the side window of a mini-van, Resent grunted as shards of glass cut into his flesh, and he landed hard in the backseat.

    ¡°Well, this is bad,¡± Rodrigo said, though he was at least thankful that their clothes shrank as well. ¡°How did he manage to sneak up on you, anyway?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s concealing his energy. Likely with a fade periapt.¡±

    ¡°What are you all waiting for?¡± the one with the mallet demanded. ¡°Do not let the prince¡¯s swaggering deceive you. Trapped in that cambion body, he is in no way the demon that defeated Lady Devika. And now he¡¯s even weaker. Finish him!¡±

    Resent slammed the nebulae against the seat cushion, propelling himself upward, and clung to the headrest of the driver¡¯s seat. He was going for the ignition, but before he could reach it, the vehicle was tilted as an ogre lifted it overhead. Resent went tumbling back to the rear window. By the time the mini-van had been thrown in the direction of the nearest building, Resent had smashed out the window with his elbows and was diving through the sky. What couldn¡¯t be more than a twenty-foot drop, now seemed high enough to turn them into paste.

    A trio of giggling imps, the height of ogres from Rodrigo¡¯s diminished viewpoint, came swirling at Resent. Their hands were aflame as they tried to snatch him up. Generating nebulae that enveloped his left fist, Resent punched forward just before the imps reached him. The nebulae flew off his knuckles in a missile of darkness that grew larger as it closed in on its prey. One imp slipped underneath it, but the other two weren¡¯t so fortunate, their bodies obliterated by the attack.

    In mid-fall, with his right arm, Resent struck the imp that had survived in the temple. Bathed in an explosion of the demon¡¯s dark blood, Resent used the nebulae like a parachute to slow his descent.

    ¡°Just seventeen to go,¡± Rodrigo said dryly. While he knew that when in his own body, Resent had faced greater odds and won, this was the most opponents the two of them had gone up against together.

    As Resent touched down, the demons shoved at each other to get at him first. Several hounds broke to the front line and rushed at him. Resent was preparing to counter, when a wave of emerald electricity hit the hounds, dropping them to the ground in convulsions.

    Bouncing from side to side, coated from head to toe in crackling electricity that only his eyes showed through, was Jett. Or rather, Volt-Edge, as the media called him. Learning from Rodrigo¡¯s dissatisfaction, Jett had named himself on their first outing together, carving the name into a tree before leaving the scene. The public thought the edge was intentional, often omitting the volt, but in truth, Jett had so much blood rushing to his legs at the time, rather than his brain, that he had misspelled voltage.

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    At his usual breakneck pace, Jett dashed out of the way of a swooping malformed, and scooped Resent up by the back of his shirt collar, so that he didn¡¯t shock him. He spoke in a voice distorted by the electricity he was encased in, ¡°. Who went and turned you into an action figure?¡±

    ¡°The one with the oddly-shaped club there. I need you to get me close enough to him so I can rectify this.¡±

    While Jett was dodging numerous attacks as he tried to close in on the minimizer, Rodrigo could hear helicopter blades drawing nearer above them. By the lack of shooting, it had to be a news copter. In the beginning, most reporters wisely refused to get anywhere near the demons, but the overwhelming success of Caity Wright had emboldened them. Whenever Rodrigo and Jett¡¯s brawls went on too long, they were sure to be recorded and make the news.

    Jett was darting around, looking for an opening, but even with his superior speed, fighting so many enemies at once left few opportunities to go on the offensive. Resent was swinging wildly in Jett¡¯s grasp, his vision blurring from the accelerated movement.

    ¡°We¡¯re getting nowhere like this. Use the ogre as a springboard,¡± Resent ordered.

    Not long ago, Jett would¡¯ve questioned those words or demanded an explanation. Now, he immediately switched his focus to the same ogre that had thrown the first punch. Jett still didn¡¯t like the prince and probably never would, but after months of training and working together, it seemed he had developed a grudging respect for him.

    Zipping around the ogre, Jett unleashed jab after jab on the demon¡¯s left knee. With the physical strength of a normal human, electrically enhanced speed or not, Jett¡¯s attacks must have been like mosquito bites to the ogre. If that was all there were to Jett¡¯s punches, the ogre would have been right to laugh as it did. However, as it lost its footing and collapsed onto the struck knee, paralyzed, it grasped its mistake.

    Jett didn¡¯t wait for it to recover, running up the immobile ogre¡¯s body and balancing on its shoulder. Stretching out a hand, he let loose a bolt of electricity at the one with the mallet. As the demon turned to see it blow past him and electrocute a malformed, Jett wound up and tossed Resent like a pitcher.

    Soaring at the enemy, Resent punched him in the chest with his left hand and sent him spiraling to the ground. Landing on the demon¡¯s throat, he generated five orbs from the nebulae that rested at his fingertips. ¡°You have until the count of one to undo this. Try anything and I kill you.¡±

    ¡°I think you just might have,¡± the demon said, wheezing as he weakly shook his head at the demons coming to his aid. ¡°Besides, if I change you back where you stand, I¡¯ll die for sure.¡±

    ¡°My weight alone shouldn¡¯t be nearly enough to¡ª¡± Resent stopped as he saw what lay beneath the winged silver mask. Blue eyes, with round irises. ¡°You¡¯re human.¡±

    ¡°Joseph, Blight of Vicearia. I¡¯d say it¡¯s a pleasure, but since I¡¯m pretty sure you just cracked my sternum, it¡¯s definitely not.¡±

    Resent hopped off Joseph¡¯s throat, keeping his hand mere inches away as a precaution. When Resent sprouted back up to full-size, the remaining demons who had been futilely chasing Jett, stopped in confusion.

    ¡°So, it¡¯s true. That bastard Semiazas somehow ended up holding the crown and intended to make it permanent?¡± Resent asked.

    ¡°With Barbatos¡¯ murder, Lord Semiazas won out in the re-vote,¡± Joseph said.

    ¡°Do you see what your dreadful ¡®wait and see¡¯ approach has earned us?¡± Resent asked. ¡°Yet another usurper. This one, far less qualified than Misery ever was. I need to get back and dispose of him.¡±

    Having gotten glimpses of Semiazas¡¯ strength through Resent¡¯s memory dreams, Rodrigo knew the high lord was on another level compared to Misery. Even with all the training they¡¯d done since then, there was little doubt in his mind that they wouldn¡¯t survive a confrontation with the fallen angel. ¡°Stop and think for a minute. Like you said, he¡¯s not qualified. Do you seriously think the other high lords would agree to him being their new ruler?¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter. The broken-winged coward just attempted to have me assassinated and the chances of it ending here are nil. I no longer care how many of your precious soldiers I must kill to do so. I will...¡± Resent trailed off as he considered the barely conscious Joseph. ¡°Tell me, Blight, just how deep does your loyalty to Vicearia run?¡±

    ¡°Not deep enough to die for,¡± Joseph muttered.

    ¡°Excellent. I believe your unique Flair could be of benefit to me. In compensation, I shall allow you to live. Agreed?¡±

    Joseph nodded.

    ¡°Are you really going to trust this guy? What if he decides to shrink us and leave us that way, or make us so small that we¡¯re erased from existence?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°You were the one who nagged on about finding a non-violent way to get through the portal. Unless you have an alternative, it is a risk we¡¯ll have to take.¡±

    Resent clasped Joseph¡¯s hand, yanking him onto his feet. Rodrigo couldn¡¯t say he was excited to be returning to Hell, but he was thrilled to be getting one step closer to having Resent out of his head.

    So thrilled, that as he heard the crack of a gunshot, he almost wished the bullet had been for him.

 Chapter 51 â€“ Wartime Exorcists

    Sensing human hostility directed at him, Resent had dodged instinctively before the gun was even fired. When Vicearia¡¯s Blight slumped to the ground with a hole going through his mask and out the back of his skull, Resent realized he had erred in his judgment.

    A deafening hail of gunfire on the discombobulated demons followed. Far superior to what was in use during the invasion, this ammunition was crafted from nethntine, the most common of Hell¡¯s metals, stripped from the dead demons and re-purposed by the humans. Because of that, their standard firearms were now capable of piercing the average demon¡¯s skin, or even their armor. Nevertheless, the way his fellow demons turned and fled from only twice the number of humans was disgraceful.

    ¡°Why would you think they were shooting at us? Other than the few accidents early on, they never have before,¡± Rodrigo said. The way Resent¡¯s mongrel son still retained shreds of his naivet¨¦, despite all they had been through, was baffling. Just because the human military hadn¡¯t been given the order to kill or capture him yet, did not mean it wouldn¡¯t come eventually. And those accidents had been from soldiers seeing ¡°Karma¡±, in action up close for the first time and deeming him more menacing than the demons he was combating.

    As the soldier¡¯s ranking officer, Colonel Shelton, started making his way over, Resent was estimating how difficult it would be to kill the lot of them for the inconvenience they had caused him. Rodrigo had explained the American military branches to the prince, but it struck him as a needlessly complicated system, especially for such a meager portion of their population. The only one of consequence was the newly formed Demon Negation Force that these men and women in front of him belonged to. Supposedly comprised of the best the other branches had to offer, it was a ragtag group more effective than it had any right to be. Yet in the end, gadgets or not, they were only humans, and could never hope to compare to a demon of quality.

    Still, slaughtering them out in the open, where the cameras could catch it all, would only serve to make accessing the portal harder. And that was without taking into account the guaranteed interference of the twig and Rodrigo. The latter would likely get them both killed as he tried to wrest control from him.

    Unenthusiastic about the prospect of having to find a less compatible host for his soul, Resent opted to use his words as Colonel Shelton approached. ¡°You do realize that was one of...a human. Right?¡±

    The colonel was a tall, dark-skinned man, with deep lines set in his forehead that belied a seniority the rest of his physicality did not. Like his men, he was clad in green-and-black armor. There used to be a small black eagle denoting his rank magnetized to his left breastplate. But with how keen the demons¡¯ night vision was, even from a distance, they were able to make out the subdued insignias and target those of higher rank.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t actually. Though with being able to make himself and those demons so tiny, he was too much of a handful to attempt capturing, anyway. Our sentry guns¡¯ sensors didn¡¯t even register them. We only knew they came through because of a sharp-eyed surveyor reviewing the camera footage.¡± Colonel Shelton looked Resent over and arched an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting outfit you got going there. Have a hot date or something?¡±

    ¡°Or something,¡± Resent said. He was trying to keep his tone and dialect as close to Rodrigo¡¯s as possible. Anyone who had seen enough footage of Karma fighting, knew that he used two distinct styles. But in their occasional encounters with the colonel, he always went out of his way to speak with them in an endeavor to establish a rapport. Shrewder than he let on, Resent got the impression the colonel suspected Karma was two different beings entirely.

    ¡°All right, I¡¯ll let you get back to it, then.¡±

    As always, the soldiers began loading up their vehicles with the bodies of the demons in the best condition, most likely for research. They would surely take the Blight as well, but there was still one way in which he could be useful. As Resent reached down for the fade periapt around the corpse¡¯s neck, several assault rifles jerked up and pointed in his direction.

    ¡°W-what are you doing?¡± one of the soldiers asked. He was among the youngest of their merry little band, and if he honestly believed bullets, nethntine or otherwise, would stop Resent from relieving his shoulders the tiresome burden of his head, his inexperience was showing.

    ¡°How quickly they turn,¡± Resent mused.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re being suspicious. Don¡¯t go giving them a reason.¡±

    Resent wished they would give him more of one. Barely restraining the urge to call forth the nebulae and use them to tear the humans limb from limb, his veneer of an indulgent teenager began to slip, as he said, ¡°He took something of mine during the battle. I¡¯m retrieving it.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stand down!¡± Colonel Shelton ordered.

    As the soldiers hesitantly lowered their guns, Resent claimed the rhombus-shaped pendant. It wasn¡¯t as if he would allow such a rare commodity to fall into the hands of those who would never know its value.

    ¡°Funny, I¡¯ve never seen you wear anything like that,¡± the colonel said.

    Resent had grown so accustomed to associating with children, who even in their immaturity and disrespect grasped his supremacy, that to have his every word and action scrutinized by these soldiers was infuriating.

    His ire must have been palpable because Jett, now powered down and , cut in, ¡°I¡¯ve seen it before. He just usually keeps it under his shirt.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess that would make sense.¡± Though he backed off with a shrug, the colonel didn¡¯t seem convinced. ¡°Either way, good work here, guys. Remember, there¡¯s always a place for you two in the D.N.F, if you want it. With your clearance rate, they¡¯d probably give you boys a starting salary of six figures.¡±

    The acceptance of that invitation, offered every time they crossed paths, was the true goal behind Shelton¡¯s false benevolence. By this point, through capture and experimentation, the humans must have realized they lacked the means to steal or replicate the abilities of demons and the individuals they chose to bestow them upon. Abilities were tied to the soul, which most humans still regarded as a concept, and would be difficult to transfer from one soul to another, even for a necromancer. Instead, they were opting to recruit these select few. And what better way to give the arrangement authenticity than to have it endorsed by the one the uninformed masses assumed to be the very first.

    Resent retrieved his backpack from the passenger seat and left the appropriated car where it was. He had learned early on that vehicles in the sky could easily keep pace with ones on the ground. These pests regularly followed him, desperate to discover where he called home. As Rodrigo believed using the nebulae as a smokescreen or having Jett simply short-circuit the cameras would be viewed as antagonistic, the best method of escaping pursuit was on foot. Fortunately, Jett¡¯s presence made that significantly easier.

    At the near supersonic speed Jett ran at, any normal human he might drag along with him probably would¡¯ve suffocated, or at least arrived at their destination with broken legs. But demons required no oxygen to sustain themselves, and as the half-breed grew stronger, Resent found they needed less and less by the day. Also, Rodrigo¡¯s constantly breaking bones and torn skin kept regenerating denser and thicker, the way Resent¡¯s had during infancy, making the body weigh much heavier than it looked.

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    Resent swallowed his pride and stretched his false hand out to Jett. The boy took it and with the electricity that covered his entire body, then concentrated at his heels, dashed out of range from the noise and spotlights, the world around them becoming a blur.

    #

    Malachi Shelton watched as, within seconds, the super-powered teens vanished from view. For a pair of kids that didn¡¯t take the precaution of wearing masks to conceal their identities, they were awfully concerned about not being followed. Unfortunately for them, they underestimated just how appealing and threatening they were to the United States Military.

    Malachi turned toward his platoon of thirty, most of them busy cordoning off the street, or collecting the more unique bodies for their scientists back at the base to dissect. Others were breaking off to pursue the few hostiles that had gotten away, though the colonel had planted members of his brigade, the Wartime Exorcists, at every escape route beforehand.

    Near every one of his platoon took fleeting glances at the ground as they worked. They were scavenging for small pieces of nethntine that might have chipped off the demons¡¯ weapons and armor when the bullets started flying.

    The precious metal had become a lifeline for them, not only replacing standard ammunition, but the steel and ceramic plates of their armor. It was about four times heavier than steel, and would have slowed them to a crawl, if not for the exoskeletons bearing the brunt of the weight. Coupled with Kevlar at the joints to retain mobility, and you had armor straight out of a sci-fi flick. Though no one with tact would admit it aloud, the incursion had been great for military tech, jump-starting projects stuck in development for years.

    The colonel locked eyes with the idle Jackson, the sandy-haired corporal who had been the first to train his gun on Karma. Incidents like these were the reason that E4¡¯s, such as specialists and corporals were the lowest enlisted ranks transferred into the Negation Force. He glanced up to make sure that the helos overhead were moving on, as they typically did when the action died down, then crooked his finger at the soldier.

    The corporal¡¯s jaw clenched as he came over, bracing himself for a dressing-down.

    As soon as he was within spitting distance, Malachi butted Jackson in the nose with the stock of his rifle. The younger man dropped to the concrete with a yelp. Striking one of his own men was crossing a line that he never felt a need to cross before. If he was of a mind to press charges, the corporal would have been within his rights to take him to court. But with every day bringing new casualties that were replaced by less experienced soldiers, many not even having seen combat prior to the incursion, Malachi was often having to repeat himself. And it seemed words alone weren¡¯t penetrating past the fear.

    Other troops were watching now out of the corner of their eyes, so the colonel decided to address the class. ¡°Let this be a lesson. The next time I see any of you panicking like greenhorns fresh out of basic and pointing a gun at one of those boys, you better have a damn good reason other than them trying to filch a necklace!¡±

    Corporal Jackson was holding his bloody nose, a look of constrained anger on his face, as he spoke, ¡°I was getting bad vibes from that kid, sir.¡±

    It was a crying shame. Jackson actually had good instincts to have picked up on the kid¡¯s aggression before the guns had even been aimed at him, but with his orders, Malachi was forced to discourage them. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry, corporal. Did you forget to share with the group that you were an honest-to-God psychic? I guess if you were feeling some bad juju, that¡¯s good enough reason to open fire on our best asset.¡±

    That earned some chuckles from the troops, many of whom had dropped the pretense of working and were standing by to listen. The others who had followed Jackson¡¯s initiative wore stricken expressions.

    ¡°Let me be clear as crystal,¡± Malachi said. ¡°These boys have been at it for months, racking up kills before the U.N even got their shit together and formed the D.N.F. We want them working for us, not against us. So, the next time someone gets an itchy trigger finger around them, you might as well shoot yourself in the foot, cuz you¡¯ll be demoted, if I¡¯m feeling gracious, or having a big chicken dinner, if I¡¯m not. Understood?¡±

    ¡°Sir, yes, sir!¡± the troops chanted in unison.

    ¡°Good, then stop slacking off and get back to work, you lazy bastards.¡±

    After the incursion, hundreds of people with abilities had appeared around the globe. Most fell in the age range of ten to twenty, and there was no method of identifying them without seeing what they could do firsthand. Initially, a few of the more idealistic youths, inspired by Karma¡¯s viral video, tried their hand at playing demon hunter. Nine out of ten were brutally murdered for their efforts. Those that survived generally didn¡¯t try again of their own volition, and even with the desperation for manpower, conscripting unwilling minors without their parents¡¯ consent was a hard-sell in Washington. The few that gave it another go, agreed to do so only with military support, and had to be put through boot camp first.

    But those boys were a different breed. They didn¡¯t need hand-holding. Hell, in most instances, they didn¡¯t even need each other. On multiple occasions, he had seen each of them fighting the demons on their own. At times, Karma even seemed like he was enjoying himself. More than anything, Malachi had always found that strange. It was only through enhanced interrogation of their demon detainees that he found out what was really going on.

    Less conservative estimates found the death toll during those two horrific days to be comparable to the entirety of World War II. Everyone either lost someone or knew someone who was a shell of their former self. So, while the demons¡¯ tough skin and high pain tolerance made things challenging at first, their fast and extensive healing meant interrogators could get creative, and not have to worry about doing any lasting damage. With the hatred the demons incited in humanity, not even after twenty-three years of service in the army did Malachi have the stomach to witness everything that went down in some black sites.

    Of all the detainees, it was one of the big galoots, an ogre, they later learned, that finally started to spill. And of everything, it wasn¡¯t physical pain that broke him, but a pop song played on loop for a few days at an ear-splitting volume. Allegedly, ogres had poor senses compared to other demons, yet their hearing was still sharper than most humans.

    So, poor Brutus, as they¡¯d taken to calling him, simply couldn¡¯t hack it. He told them anything and everything, though, often in small, insufficient words that required clarification from the more intelligent, less forthcoming demons. With all the creature comforts they rewarded his honesty with, Brutus¡¯ cell had come to look like a giant¡¯s suite in a hotel might, and was showcased to the more receptive demons on the benefits of being a model prisoner. Playing on the species¡¯ inclination toward greed and envy, cooperation had seen a sharp spike since then.

    Those first few weeks were a roller coaster of discovery and sorting fact from fiction. Hell existed, millions of humans lived there as prisoners, and the angels were a species of isolationists. But then there were the things the demons didn¡¯t know, like the first thing about contacting the angels, how vast Hell actually was, or even a ballpark figure of the demon population. The lack of statistics threw a wrench into Russia¡¯s insane retaliation plan. They wanted to chain some demons to a couple newly commissioned Tsar Bomba¡¯s, warheads so impractically large and powerful that they had never been intended for military use, and drop one through every known portal, in an attempt to nuke the underworld out of existence.

    There was so much to unpack, that for a long time they chalked up mentions of the feud between the absent Prince Resent and the deceased King Misery as Hell¡¯s internal politics with no bearing on humanity¡¯s survival. The current king was a supposedly prophetic demon lord by the name of Barbatos, which after reading the first report that mentioned him, the colonel must have mispronounced a dozen times as his ancestral home, the Caribbean island of Barbados.

    Of everyone, only Brutus seemed to have the stones to correct him, from the comfort of his gilded cage, with a simple but memorable rhyme, ¡°Yummy toes, not dos. Barba-toes.¡±

    It was when they captured an imp that had barely been left alive by Karma, that Malachi understood the prince¡¯s role in all this. Without provocation, the little creature started ranting about Resent being a turncoat, and all the pieces fell into place. The Prince of Hell was on earth, possessing the body of a boy who had become like a religious figure to some, and killing his own kind. His reasons were unclear, at least to all the low-ranking demons they had captured thus far. That demonic possession was real and not a misunderstanding of various illnesses by the ignorant throughout history, like Malachi had believed all his life, was its own can of worms.

    Of course, as soon as Malachi made the connection, he had reported directly to President Blackthorn, a middle-aged man of average height and build, but with a strategic mind unlike anything the colonel had seen from past presidents.

    After all, the president had been the one to assign him to Rodrigo Beltran, and impress upon him the importance of getting the boy, and his cousin Jett Vega, to enlist willingly. Because if the government thought for a moment that the boys intended to defect to another country, perhaps abscond to one of the several German estates belonging to the reclusive Eckhart heiress Rodrigo was shacked up with, orders would come in to capture them.

    Dead or alive.

 Chapter 52 â€“ A Slice of Life

    Leila was on a date, a custom that had been falling by the wayside in favor of quick hookups since the demons had proven how cheap life was. Ted, her boyfriend sitting across from her in the diner¡¯s booth seat, was Rodrigo¡¯s polar opposite. Ruggedly handsome instead of boyish. A high-school senior instead of a junior dropout. Talkative and charming instead of increasingly withdrawn and sullen.

    And yet, even as he spoke, her mind was wandering, thinking about what to buy Rodrigo for his seventeenth birthday. For several days, he had been harping on about not wanting any gifts or celebration, not that Leila had any intention of listening. She¡¯d known him since he was seven and knew how he liked to play the stoic. But things had been so awkward between them lately that she had kept putting the task on the back-burner, and now today was the day.

    She was meeting Adena after this so that they could shop for outfits for tonight¡¯s party, activities that seemed surreal with everything going wrong in the world. Despite their many differences, the two of them had found common ground, and ended up becoming good friends. It was hard not to be when Leila learned the lengths Adena had gone to to save her life from Jezebeth, cauterizing her stab wound, and even bribing a doctor $600,000 to prioritize her surgery. But Leila was still shocked that she managed to convince such a loner to come to a high-school party.

    It was Jett¡¯s high-school, really. After the invasion, society had been on the brink of collapse. Schools and most work places were closed for months, so Leila had only recently been transferred there with the rest of her surviving schoolmates, because their building was one of several to have been damaged beyond repair.

    ¡°So, babe, we¡¯re still going to Valerie¡¯s party, right?¡± Ted asked, maybe noticing how his self-congratulatory recap about his role in their school¡¯s previous football victories, was putting her to sleep. Not that any full contact sports were currently permitted. They were viewed as a potential waste of a hospital bed and medical supplies, which both remained scarce.

    The sad thing was, she used to love the excitement of football and the boys who had the mettle to play it. It was why she had been a cheerleader in ninth and tenth grade. But after her family¡¯s murder, she lost her enthusiasm for most of her passions. However, unlike Adena, she did a much better job of hiding it.

    Leila forced herself to smile, as she stirred her untouched strawberry milkshake with her plastic straw. ¡°You know it. I haven¡¯t been to a party in over a year, so if the demons could mind their own business tonight, that would be great. I¡¯m going clothes shopping with my bestie right after this.¡±

    Even though it was true that Adena was her closest friend nowadays, it still felt weird using that word for her instead of Bianca, whose parents had adopted her. Before hopping into Carlito¡¯s body, Jezebeth had been squatting in Leila¡¯s, and had used her hands to stab Bianca to death with a fork.

    The mental image of that and the knowledge that there might be nothing to return to but more dead family members, made going back to Mr. and Mrs. Diaz¡¯s house the hardest thing Leila had ever done. It took her weeks to work up the courage. When she finally did, the Diazs were just so overjoyed to have one of their children survive, that they never asked for the gruesome details of Bianca¡¯s death, and Leila didn¡¯t offer them.

    Ted slid his large hand across the lacquered wooden table, grasping Leila¡¯s free hand in his. She could feel the calluses on his palm from weightlifting. ¡°Y¡¯know, my schedule¡¯s wide open. I wouldn¡¯t mind being the pack mule for you ladies. Maybe I could help you pick out something sexy...for the after-party.¡±

    Leila pulled her hand away from his, then tried to downplay the motion by using it to grab her milkshake and drink directly from the glass. It wasn¡¯t like she had been born yesterday. Ever since starting puberty, she could feel the hungry, expectant gazes on her body from boys and men alike. She and Ted had been dating for a little over two months now, and hadn¡¯t gone any further than light petting, so it made sense that he was getting antsy. But was she being childish to want her first time to be special? With someone she loved, instead of someone whose best quality, in her eyes, was being emotionally available?

    Ted was a tall, attractive guy, who besides his near single-mindedness about football, defied the worst aspects of the jock stereotype. There were plenty of girls around their school interested in him, so he had options for when...if this didn¡¯t work out. But right now, he had a look of dejection on his face. ¡°Shit. My bad. I¡¯m not trying to pressure you into anything.¡±

    Leila snickered, hoping to put Ted¡¯s doubts at ease. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I just don¡¯t think my friend would be too happy with the idea. She gets kinda prickly around strangers.¡±

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    As if she had willed her to appear and save her from this uncomfortable conversation, the glass door swung open and Adena entered the homey diner. As usual, even though it was over seventy degrees out, she was dressed conservatively, in dark, muted colors, that didn¡¯t show an inch of skin below her pale neck. Her hood was up and she was wearing sunglasses. Before Leila could wave her over, Adena already spotted her and was marching toward them on her long legs.

    ¡°Hey, Adena, this is my boyfriend, Ted, that I¡¯m always telling you about,¡± Leila lied. The truth was she could count on one hand the number of times he¡¯d come up in their conversations. Not because Ted wasn¡¯t important to her, but because unlike most friends, the two of them never discussed their love lives. With all the time Adena and Rodrigo spent alone together in the warehouse, and the bouts of dry-humping in the gym the two swore was training, it¡¯d only be natural if feelings, or more, had developed. But just because Leila understood it, didn¡¯t mean she wanted to know the extent of it.

    Adena stopped in front of their table, barely glancing at Ted before giving him a curt nod, then returning her attention to Leila. ¡°Ready to go?¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t gotten the check yet,¡± Leila said. Knowing that was a weak excuse and that Adena had no patience for small talk, she began draining what was left of her milkshake.

    Adena sighed, pulled out her masculine wallet, and placed a crisp hundred-dollar bill on the table. ¡°That should about cover it, no? Now, come on.¡±

    Ted stared after Adena striding out the door like she had slapped him in the face. ¡°Wow. You weren¡¯t kidding about that one. Cold as ice.¡±

    Leila giggled at the irony in that statement, then said, ¡°Sorry about her, hon, but I did warn you. Maybe she¡¯ll warm up to you during the party.¡± She rose and leaned across the table to give him a brief kiss before he could protest her swift exit.

    When she got outside, Adena was waiting in front of her newest Escalade, the replacement for the one that had been eaten by that horrible toad demon during the invasion.

    ¡°Well, someone sure is feeling extra rude today,¡± Leila said.

    ¡°Oh, please. You¡¯re wasting his time and yours,¡± Adena replied.

    ¡°W-what do you mean?¡± Leila asked, not so much feigning ignorance as surprised that Adena was peddling romantic advice.

    Even through Adena¡¯s shades, Leila could see her eyes narrow. ¡°You know exactly what I mean. He¡¯s a placeholder, and a poor one at that.¡±

    The tinted back window of the Escalade rolled down, and Leila stumbled back, fearing it might reveal an amused Rodrigo staring at her. She rarely saw he and Adena apart during the day.

    Raquel was the Beltran in the backseat, her long black braid resting against her left shoulder as she slurped a slushie. ¡°True that. I could see if it was Jett, or even Resent. But your standards are too high now for some dude-bro.¡±

    ¡°Ew, isn¡¯t Resent, like, 400 years old?¡± Though he did bring a certain assertiveness and maturity to Rodrigo¡¯s progressively more muscular body, and he had those gorgeous violet eyes to boot. But with his age, she got the impression that the prince saw all of them as the kids they technically were. To Adena, Leila asked, ¡°And what¡¯s the munchkin doing here?¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, Ms. bachelorette! But you¡¯re four years older than me and barely two inches taller. In a few years, you¡¯ll come up to my hip.¡±

    Even with having shared a room together for over a month, Leila kept forgetting how combative Raquel was. Maybe it was because of the bullying she hadn¡¯t fought against early in elementary school, which her brother was expelled for defending her from, that she couldn¡¯t help but clap back at every perceived insult.

    ¡°Besides, if it wasn¡¯t for me, this one,¡± Raquel jabbed an accusatory finger at Adena, ¡°wouldn¡¯t have even left the building. She was rambling about calling you over and just getting everything delivered same-day to the warehouse.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t do my own shopping. I have...had people for that.¡± Adena fell silent, maybe thinking about the absence of her butler, Stefan. Thankfully, he hadn¡¯t been killed by the demons, but because of all the close calls he suffered while traveling to his family in Mississippi, he was taking his first extended vacation since Adena had lost her father. ¡°I also don¡¯t like how the outside air feels on my skin, or how bright out it is during this time of year.¡±

    ¡°Oh my god, you¡¯re acting like you were a hermit until now. You¡¯ve literally taken dozens of trips to and from Hell. Are you seriously going all agoraphobic on¡ª¡±

    Raquel had put her slushie in the cup holder so that she could clap her hands. ¡°Can you chatty Cathies talk about your feelings as we drive. If I have to pull my gun on some d-bag who sees three girls, a fancy car, and an opportunity, I¡¯m gonna be pissed.¡±

    Adena unlocked the car¡¯s doors with a remote. ¡°I suppose I better acclimate myself to crowds before the real ordeal begins.¡±

 Chapter 53 â€“ The Last Gasp of Normalcy

    Rodrigo had never much enjoyed his birthday. Raquel would usually strive to be a bit less obnoxious than she was on a daily basis. But without Edward, the man he grew up believing was his father, those were the days when his mother was at her absolute worst. Even with two young children at home, Miriam would go MIA until all hours of the night. And if Rodrigo was fortunate enough to be awake when she stepped through the door, reeking like a brewery, she gave him his gift. Using the most colorful language a drunk could muster to let him know how his birth had ruined her life and made her squander her potential.

    Like so much of Rodrigo¡¯s existence, Carlito had been the one to make those days bearable. Somehow, whether by saving up his allowance, or running some kind of Ponzi scheme on his classmates, he always managed to get Rodrigo a present he knew he wanted. More importantly, it was the small ways he made the days feel special, letting him hog the TV, or playing the games he wanted to play, or even taking over some of his less demanding chores. Now, here he was, seventeen when Carlito hadn¡¯t even made it to eleven.

    A bang reverberated through the gym, pulling Rodrigo from his thoughts. He had been in such a trance that for a moment, he thought they were under attack, and found himself welcoming the justification for bloodshed. But then, as he actually looked in front of him, he realized the heavy bag he had been punching had split in two. Sand was spilling from the still hanging half, as the chain that connected it to the metal bar overhead swung and rattled.

    ¡°Dude, what!¡± Geo yelled from behind him. He had been pummeling a free-standing torso with his staff, and froze to stare past Rodrigo at the other half of the bag that had flown across the room.

    Rodrigo didn¡¯t have to try too hard to look stunned. It wouldn¡¯t have been a revelation if he had been hitting it with the nebulous arm, but to be able to unconsciously do that kind of damage with his flesh and bone left hand was as exhilarating as it was dangerous. Yet another way he¡¯d be forced to limit himself in fights with humans. ¡°Whoa. I guess Jett¡¯s been putting this bag through its paces. He must have softened it up for me.¡±

    Geo snorted. ¡°Yeah, okay, Pacquiao. You better come up with a better excuse before the landlady comes home, because that ain¡¯t even fooling me.¡±

    Rodrigo shrugged, not having the energy to invent anything more believable. Adena would understand, even if she¡¯d be annoyed with him for having to get a replacement delivered.

    After cleaning up the mess he had made, Rodrigo drifted from the gym to the rustic living room. The closer it got to the party, the more restless he became. Was there going to be another breach in the D.N.F¡¯s defenses tonight like there had been yesterday? And if so, how many people were going to die because he was taking the night off?

    Jett was sitting on the couch, already wearing a maroon dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, with the bottom tucked into a pair of faded blue jeans. He had forgone his usual running sneakers for brown leather shoes. Seeing him made Rodrigo wonder whether he¡¯d be underdressed in the casual clothes he planned to throw on after showering the sweat off himself. He could maybe borrow some of Resent¡¯s clothing, if he hadn¡¯t been being peculiarly silent all day. Rodrigo was starting to think the prince had such disdain for the concept of a birthday that he had forced himself into a deep sleep.

    Jett was watching a rerun of a popular novela his mother used to like on the flat screen television that was mounted on the wall. Because of all the deaths, most of the shows that had been airing pre-invasion ended up being canceled, suspended, or were in the process of recasting, so other than the news and The Wright Hour, none of them watched as much TV as they used to.

    Rodrigo took a seat in a nearby recliner. ¡°You second-guessing how we¡¯re spending our evening, too?¡±

    ¡°Nah. I couldn¡¯t risk getting hurt tonight, anyway.¡± With Emelina¡¯s funeral tomorrow, Rodrigo wasn¡¯t sure how Jett could be in the state of mind to party. But maybe that was why he was so desperate for a distraction. ¡°I¡¯m just thinking about what the colonel said last night. Even if he was lumping us in together, six figures isn¡¯t half bad for two kids who haven¡¯t graduated high school.¡±

    Rodrigo knew it was about more than the money for Jett. Whoever was in charge of the Negation Force must have considered how those in the generation with the biggest recruitment pool also harbored a record-breaking distrust of the government and law enforcement. Rather than issuing threats or ultimatums, they made joining seem enticing. A salary, proper training, all sorts of special privileges, and being part of a team. If Rodrigo didn¡¯t have Resent or Adena, he might have been tempted.

    Jett had started out more suspicious of the Negation Force than Rodrigo, but if they were abducting people with abilities to experiment on, like Jett had first feared, they were being quiet about it. Maybe going after those with few enough connections that their disappearances wouldn¡¯t make waves.

    But since they had debated the pros and cons of joining ad nauseam, Rodrigo focused on the paycheck. ¡°There¡¯s a world of difference between $50,000 and $100,000. With the increased risk and military spending skyrocketing, the average soldier almost makes $50,000, and you can bet they¡¯ll work us ten times harder than any of them.¡±

    Jett gave him a wry smile. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t go for it even if they paid you a million, would you? I can barely keep up with my monthly car payments, and meanwhile, Pa¡¯s paying thousands for tomorrow¡¯s funeral, cuz he didn¡¯t have the sense to drop her in one of the mass graves from the early days. See, Ruy, not all of us are lucky enough to find a sugar mama to pamper us with her blood money.¡±

    While sympathy and anger warred for control of Rodrigo¡¯s tongue, the double doors of the warehouse parted, and the girls came in, bringing tension-breaking laughter and conversation with them. They were carrying far, far, too many bags, and while Raquel and Leila were beaming, Adena looked ready to fall into a coma.

    ¡°Seems like at least two of you had fun,¡± Jett said.

    ¡°Nein!¡± Raquel barked.

    ¡°Uh, what? Are you having a stroke?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s German for No,¡± Rodrigo explained. ¡°Why it¡¯s coming out Raquel¡¯s mouth, when I¡¯ve never heard her utter a word of Spanish, beats me.¡±

    Raquel was cackling so hard that she was tearing up. ¡°Oh, man, we got catcalled by grown men and it was awesome.¡±

    Rodrigo understood the opposite sex about as well as he did quantum physics, so he turned to Jett and asked, ¡°I thought girls hated that?¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Maybe they looked like GQ models. World of difference between some creep hollering at you from his van, and a suave ken doll with something better to say than, ¡®Smile, baby.¡¯¡±

    ¡°No, they looked like they were strung out on something,¡± Leila said. ¡°The funny part was when Adena spun around and shouted them down in flawless German, making them trip over themselves to get away. Re¨CRede waiter¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rede weiter und ich werde dich lebendig verbrennen!¡± Adena snapped, causing Rodrigo and Jett to shrink back in their seats. He knew she was fluent in German, but he¡¯d never heard her speak it, and wasn¡¯t prepared for how it¡¯d transform her quiet voice into a vocal weapon. ¡°Roughly, it means, ¡®Keep talking and I¡¯ll burn you alive.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Yep. That¡¯s one way to scare off pervs,¡± Jett said, then in a whisper added, ¡°Or anyone.¡±

    Though Rodrigo could see the humor in the situation, he didn¡¯t like that it only existed because Adena was there. If the guys were more persistent, she could have hospitalized them with her bare hands, or in an extreme case, even delivered on her threat. While he knew Raquel and Leila could take care of themselves, too, they¡¯d have to work a lot harder to spurn any unwanted advances. And though Rodrigo was aware that part of the reason the government left him to his own devices was because he didn¡¯t meddle in human affairs, if some predator touched his sister¡­

    Rodrigo let the thought drop. If he allowed himself to get worked up over all the potential dangers to his sister, he¡¯d be frothing at the mouth. He left the others in the living room and went upstairs to his room to start getting ready. Each of the rooms had a private bathroom, so he hopped into the shower, careful not to repeat the mortal sin of using one of Resent¡¯s prized loofahs and invoking his wrath.

    After ten minutes, he got out and wrapped a towel around his narrow waist. In a rare moment of vanity, Rodrigo stopped to check himself out in the fogged-up mirror, and gave the barest smile at his reflection. While wet, his bangs fell to his eyebrows and took on something of V-shape.

    He had considered a prosthetic replacement early on, yet even one at the pinnacle of technology wouldn¡¯t respond to his input or move as naturally as the nebulae did. Not to mention, as there wasn¡¯t a prosthetic made of nethntine yet, none existed that would be durable enough for his nighttime activities. The trade-off for never lacking a weapon was he couldn¡¯t go to the beach, or even wear short sleeves outside of the warehouse.

    Back in his bedroom, Rodrigo looked at the purple long-sleeved Henley, black vest, and light gray jeans he had set out on the bottom bunk of his bed. Then he dared a glance at the extravagant black-and-gold 4-door wardrobe in the corner of the room. If Resent was awake, opening that wardrobe with the intention of borrowing clothes was sure to break his silence. If he was awake.

    ¡°Wakey-wakey,¡± Rodrigo whispered, taking a few exploratory steps toward the wardrobe. Resent¡¯s lack of a response must have meant he really was out of commission. He grabbed the gilded handles of the wardrobe, then paused, remembering the old saying of looking like a boy in your father¡¯s clothes. It wasn¡¯t true physically in his case, and to an outsider he¡¯d appear well-dressed, but his friends would all know who the clothes belonged to. Besides, if he stained, or Hell forbid, ripped anything of the prince¡¯s, he¡¯d never hear the end of it.

    He settled for the outfit he had planned, completing it with his ever-present leather gloves, anchor pendant, and the black shoes he had bought for tomorrow¡¯s funeral.

    Rodrigo left his room, the door locking automatically behind him. As he started down the hall, he stopped and gasped as he saw Leila, standing beside Adena¡¯s doorway. Her chestnut brown curls were pinned back from her lovely face by a spandex headband. She was wearing a sleeveless black halter top that swooped low in front, showing a fair bit more of her skin than he was used to seeing, and a high waist burgundy skater skirt that reached the middle of her thighs. Because he was so used to her presence, he sometimes forgot how stunning she was.

    To his surprise, Leila was eyeing him just as openly. ¡°Well, don¡¯t you clean up nicely, when you¡¯re not covered in blood and sweat.¡±

    ¡°You look amazing,¡± Rodrigo said before he could filter himself. Idiot! Resent pipes down for a day, and he forgets his status as prisoner in his own body. Besides, when Leila had lived in the warehouse, they had plenty of opportunities to pick up from their near-kiss during the snowstorm. She tried to console him after Carlito¡¯s death, having experienced plenty of her own losses, but he had kept her at arm¡¯s length, his grief and rage chipping away at everything except a desire for greater strength.

    However, Rodrigo¡¯s honesty was rewarded, as Leila¡¯s olive cheeks flushed scarlet at the compliment. For once, the shoe was on the other foot. She hurriedly turned away and reached into Adena¡¯s room, pulling the taller girl out by her hand. ¡°And what about Adena? Doesn¡¯t she look great, too?¡±

    Adena was wearing a black-and-white horizontal striped shirt, ripped black jeans, and boots. Her nails were painted black, and she was wearing dark purple lipstick that matched the smokey eyeshadow he rarely saw her without. ¡°From the way you¡¯re gaping at me like I have a third head, I guess I don¡¯t rate ¡®uh-mazing.¡¯¡±

    Rodrigo shook his head as if to wipe away whatever befuddled expression he had on his face. ¡°N-no, it¡¯s not that. I¡¯m just not used to you dressing like you¡¯re not trying to blend into a dark spot on the wall. You look good. You always¡ª¡±

    Adena held up a hand that wisps of smoke were rising from. ¡°Stop. Talking.¡±

    Leila was stifling laughter.

    ¡°Yo, three¡¯s company!¡± Jett called from the bottom of the steps, where he had a clear view of this train wreck. ¡°You¡¯re all pretty. Now, can we get going? I know I said being late is the norm, but at this rate, it¡¯s gonna be over before we get there.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Adena said, leading Rodrigo and Leila downstairs. ¡°I¡¯m starting to rethink leaving the kids alone.¡± They had considered dropping them off with Uncle Antonio for the night, but it would raise the question of what Rodrigo and Jett were so busy doing that they couldn¡¯t take care of their siblings.

    Jett waved a dismissive hand at her. ¡°They¡¯ll be fine. We¡¯ll only be gone a few hours, and they¡¯re not psycho enough to go outside at this time of night. Right, guys?¡±

    Raquel and Geo were lounging in the living room, watching TV, and the two thirteen-year-olds exchanged a look that spoke volumes.

    ¡°Course,¡± Geo said, giving Jett a thumbs up. ¡°We¡¯ll be on our best behavior.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. I don¡¯t like this at all. They¡¯ve got mischief in their eyes,¡± Rodrigo said, stretching a hand out to his sister. ¡°Raquel, give me your card.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± she cried. ¡°How am I supposed to get in my room? What if there¡¯s an emergency, and we need to leave?¡±

    ¡°I can keep your door unlocked until we get back,¡± Adena said. ¡°And in the unlikely event there¡¯s a break in, give me a call, and I can unlock the front doors on my phone. I¡¯ll probably be glad for an excuse to get some air.¡±

    Raquel was puffing her cheeks out, but eventually flicked the card at Rodrigo. ¡°Even on your birthday, you¡¯re the worst.¡±

    Rodrigo glanced at Geo, who looked equally thwarted. Good. They definitely had something stupid in mind, but with the key card being the only way in or out the warehouse, their options just became a lot more limited.

    Satisfied that they wouldn¡¯t be getting up to any trouble tonight, Rodrigo smiled down at Raquel, ¡°I love you, too, you little nightmare.¡±

 Chapter 54 â€“ Itâ€™s a Bird! Itâ€™s a Plane!

    Raquel and Geo peeled back the thick black curtains, each peeking out a separate window as the taillights of Adena¡¯s SUV disappeared into the darkness. They waited for a tense few minutes, not making a sound or moving away, in case the teenagers decided to be slick and circle around the block. When it was clear they were gone, the cousins burst out laughing.

    ¡°Oh, man!¡± Geo shouted, curling into himself as he slapped his knee. ¡°I can¡¯t believe they fell for it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. And that was a surprisingly good idea you had to play up our disappointment. My brother had the smuggest look, like he totally caught us.¡±

    ¡°Y¡¯know, I was ninety-nine percent sure Adena was the smartest in our crew, but has it low-key been us the whole time?¡±

    Raquel shook her head, as she dug Leila¡¯s key card out of her pocket. Since they shared a room, she had taken it from her purse while she and Adena fussed over their outfits. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s not get crazy. They¡¯re all just too anxious or horny to think straight right now. I mean, did you see Rodrigo and Leila making googly eyes at each other. Boyfriend or not, I bet you $10 they¡¯ll be sucking face by the end of the night.¡±

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll take your money. Don¡¯t tell him I said so, cuz the dude¡¯s starting to scare me, but your brother doesn¡¯t have enough rizz to lock that down.¡± As the glee of getting one over on Rodrigo and the others faded, Geo grew serious. ¡°So, real-talk, you sure this is gonna work? I know opening the doors from the inside doesn¡¯t use fingerprints, but can we really use her card to get back in.¡±

    Raquel sucked her teeth, shoving Leila¡¯s card into the slot by the front doors. ¡°I told you already, I tested it the other day. The doors open so long as it¡¯s a fingerprint that¡¯s in the system. I guess it¡¯s so no one gets locked out in a crisis, where one of us has to use the other¡¯s card. Course, that doesn¡¯t work for the individual rooms.¡±

    The large doors parted, exposing them to the night air and sounds. Raquel knew Rodrigo was trying to protect them, but then he should¡¯ve agreed to take her and Geo to the party when they asked. Once they accepted that crashing the high-school party was unrealistic, they decided to have their own get together at Wilson¡¯s house, with him, Jamie, and a few others. Raquel had wanted to host it at the warehouse, to reduce the risk of getting caught, but since seeing Rodrigo overpower two grown men like they were children yesterday, her boyfriend had gone from being wary of to deathly afraid of her brother. If he knew the whole truth, he¡¯d probably cut all contact with her.

    As they walked toward the bus stop, Raquel kept her head on a swivel, like she had learned from watching Adena. Her long, baggie lilac hoodie masked the shape of the Beretta holstered on her hip. She had cut a hole in the hoodie¡¯s right pocket so that she could free it before an enemy even knew she was armed. More than the demons, the night brought out the people looking to take advantage of all the gaps left by the cops killed during the invasion. Even with fast-tracking the time it took to complete the police academy, most of the best candidates had been drafted into the military, leaving them understaffed.

    Geo twirled his retracted staff in his hand, as he glanced over his shoulder back at the warehouse. ¡°I just wanna make sure you¡¯re not feening to see your boyfriend and goof up, getting us caught.¡±

    Raquel flashed him a patronizing smile. ¡°Aw, poor baby. Is someone feeling a teensy bit lonely with no girl to call his own? If so, I have good news for you. I showed a picture of us to my friend Nikki, and I guess she either has low standards, or she¡¯s in the market for a younger boy to fawn over her, because she said you¡¯re cute. I can introduce you guys, if you want.¡±

    ¡°Pfft. You think I care about middle-school girls when hot Ukrainian chicks are dying to meet me.¡±

    This nearly stopped Raquel in her tracks. ¡°What? What are you talking about?¡±

    Geo didn¡¯t even have the decency to look embarrassed. ¡°Yeah, I was surprised, too. But I was just chilling, watching a trailer for the latest Call of Duty on my computer, when a message popped up from this hottie, Katya.¡±

    Raquel raised her brows. ¡°Are you screwing with me, or are you really that gullible?¡±

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking. Clickbait. But, no! I started chatting her up for laughs, figuring it was a bot, and she was asking me about how life is in America. She probably hacked my webcam to get a peek at me, and with how jacked I¡¯m getting, figured I was 18, too.¡± Seeming undisturbed by that possibility, Geo rolled his sleeves up and flexed his small, but defined biceps.

    Raquel wasn¡¯t sure what was sadder, some man impersonating an attractive woman to con poor saps out of money, or a real live woman trying to wring a green card out of a seventh grader. ¡°I hate to rain on your idiot parade, but the only thing Katya¡¯s dying to meet are your dad¡¯s credit card numbers.¡±

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Geo opened his mouth to speak, but a scream cut him off. Across the street, an older man was sprinting down the sidewalk, as a pack of young men dressed in purple and black chased after him. The more committed members even had streaks or their entire hair dyed blue. Dusks.

    Raquel reached for her holstered pistol. ¡°Should we help him?¡±

    Geo shook his head and kept walking. ¡°If Dusks are after him, it¡¯s cuz he did something nasty.¡±

    That seemed to be an opinion shared by most non-police officers. Imitating Rodrigo¡¯s failure of a fashion sense had started with a few dozen teenagers, mostly outcasts. Raquel figured it was done in an attempt to show solidarity. But once those same kids realized that Rodrigo was either too busy fighting demons, or purposely ignoring human criminals, they decided to take justice into their own hands, and things snowballed from there. Now, there were thousands of them around the country, and Raquel was just dreading that one moron who was going to ruin things for everyone by killing a shoplifter or something.

    Raquel stopped and watched as the Dusks gained on the man. They were going to catch him, and when they did, they were going to beat him senseless, and leave him for the already overworked hospitals. But was whatever he was guilty of worth the chance of being given brain damage? Maybe she should find out.

    Raquel had just started crossing the street, pulling her pistol out through her hoodie¡¯s ripped pocket, when a series of cracks echoed through the night. The two Dusks closest to catching the man, fell down behind parked cars and shrieked, disappearing from view. The others skidded to a halt and stared down at the sidewalk in shock.

    Raquel doubled back, taking cover behind a parked truck. She flattened herself against the ground, looking to get a glimpse beneath the cars. The two guys that went down were still moving, so not dead, or even hurt badly enough to lose consciousness. But the ground beneath them was frozen over with a thin sheet of ice.

    Raquel pushed herself onto her feet, leaving the shelter of the ten-wheeler and glancing everywhere for the demon responsible. Like Rodrigo, she had begun studying demonology, though unlike him, she had a social life and could only dedicate so much time to it. But despite what several cultures believed, nowhere in the documented parts of Hell was it cold. So, she hadn¡¯t read anything about demons that could manipulate ice, but apparently, they existed.

    Geo came to her side, his head tilted back and his mouth hanging open. Raquel followed his wide-eyed gaze and as she spotted them, must have had the same stupefied expression he did. Suspended in mid-air, not a hundred feet above the Dusks¡¯ heads were a group of seven winged beings. Their wings all differed in size and appearance, matching their hair in color, not one of them having the white and fluffy wings they were so often depicted with. They were too high up for Raquel to make out their faces, but they were staring down at the Dusks intently.

    ¡°A-are those...angels?¡± Geo asked.

    ¡°D-don¡¯t jump to conclusions. They could be demons disguising themselves.¡± Even as Raquel said it, she knew it wasn¡¯t true. The longer she gawked at them like a bumpkin, the more the feelings of hope and tranquility grew within her. They were what humanity had been praying for, and gradually losing faith in ever seeing. The other side of the demonic coin.

    The angel at the head of the flock had wings and hair such a striking shade of red, Raquel doubted a word existed in English for it. He must have been in charge, because his wings were larger and more intricate than the others, having a glass-like quality to them. He seemed to be arguing with the black-winged one floating by his side, who had his splayed hand stretched toward the ground, and was either responsible for the ice or was planning to escalate the situation.

    Raquel, Geo, the Dusks, and the man they had been chasing were all in a trance as they watched the divine beings. One of the Dusks was the first to snap out of it enough to pull out his phone to try to take a picture. But no sooner had he pointed the camera at the angels than they flapped their wings and seven ear-popping sonic booms were heard. They were gone.

    Geo regained his senses faster than Raquel, and took out his own phone.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Raquel asked.

    ¡°Duh. Calling Jett,¡± Geo said, and Raquel snatched the phone from his hand. ¡°The hell? I know you kinda planned it, but I think letting our brothers know the angels just dipped out the clouds is a bigger deal than our little pizza party.¡±

    ¡°Stop and think,¡± Raquel said. ¡°If we call them now, it doesn¡¯t just ruin our good time, but theirs, too. And don¡¯t forget, we¡¯d have to explain how we sneaked out, meaning Adena would patch it, and we¡¯d never get out that way again.¡±

    Geo¡¯s body tensed, and Raquel thought she might have to stop him from trying to take his phone back with some of that Krav Maga Adena had been teaching her. But after a moment, he relaxed. ¡°So, when do we tell them?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll have to. If it¡¯s like how it was with the demons, they¡¯re probably showing up worldwide right now. But if somehow the others don¡¯t hear about it by tomorrow, then we¡¯ll face the music and come clean. Okay?¡±

    Geo gave a reluctant nod, and they continued on their way to the bus stop. The crowding of trains and the pitch-black of the tunnels they entered had made NYC¡¯s subway system an all-you-can-kill buffet for the demons and still hadn¡¯t been reopened to the public.

    Raquel¡¯s motives weren¡¯t all as selfish as she made them appear. While, yeah, she didn¡¯t exactly want to get chewed out for this, she was more concerned about what her brother¡¯s reaction would be. He was just starting to get back to his normal, lame self, instead of that bloodthirsty lunatic he had turned into after Carlito¡¯s death. She knew he needed the angels¡¯ help to finally be free of Resent, or at least as free as one could be of their brother, so he was on a collision course with them regardless. But at least she could let him have one night to blow off some steam before the cycle of violence swallowed him again.

 Chapter 55 â€“ Party Like Youâ€™re Going To Die

    Rodrigo hadn¡¯t even been to a birthday party since he was in elementary school, so his knowledge of high-school parties came mainly from TV and movies. Based on what he gathered from his classmates back when he was still a student, the reality was usually a lot of hype that could never live up to the ragers on-screen. The only guarantees were pictures posted on social media that would be regretted by those tagged in them when they sobered up. So, when Adena pulled the Escalade over at the end of a block where hundreds of teens were milling about, the entire street vibrating from muffled trap music, Rodrigo had to re-evaluate his expectations.

    In the driver¡¯s seat beside him, Adena looked like the sight alone was giving her a migraine. ¡°Is this a party or a carnival?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a few more people here than we thought there¡¯d be,¡± Leila said from the backseat.

    ¡°Oh, just a few?¡± Rodrigo asked, the sheer numbers grating on him, too. He was never a fan of crowds, and if there were this many people outside, counting those inside, they probably totaled closer to a thousand. He wondered how many of them felt secure enough to be here because of the D.N.F, and how many were just tired of living in fear, refusing to continue letting the mere threat of demons bring their everyday lives to a standstill. ¡°Honestly, there¡¯s so many kids here the cops are probably coming to break it up any minute.¡±

    In the rearview mirror, Rodrigo caught Jett grinning. ¡°Nope. Sorry, spoilsport, but unless people start going real loco, I wouldn¡¯t count on that. Check out the houses. See how busted up they are? My friend Valerie and some other seniors picked this place because, besides some squatters, the entire block¡¯s abandoned. Not that the police have time for noise complaints, anyway.¡±

    It was true. Long stretches of vacant homes like this existed all over the world now. Rodrigo¡¯s old neighborhood, Lunar Peak, had been hit hard. The Spiral, the black tower he had spent much time being alone with his thoughts at, had been built over one of the portals to Hell. And when the demons had burst from it, they had savaged everything in its immediate vicinity before spreading out. In the months since, he hadn¡¯t run into a single one of his neighbors from back there.

    Adena put the car in reverse, and for a blissful moment, Rodrigo thought she was taking them home.

    Jett let out an aggravated sigh. ¡°If you two don¡¯t wanna go that badly, then drop me and Leila off here.¡±

    ¡°Relax, I¡¯m just parking a few blocks away,¡± Adena said, and Rodrigo was shocked she didn¡¯t take the offered out. He wasn¡¯t sure whether she was trying to challenge herself by doing something so far outside her comfort zone, or if after all the hours of build-up, she genuinely wanted to go. ¡°I rather not have to cripple some drunk neanderthal for vandalizing my car.¡±

    When they left the vehicle, Jett led them back to the block where the party was. Past the jealous stares of the uninvited loiterers, and the several Dusks that traded nods with Rodrigo, assuming he was one of them. Months back, when he had first started seeing all these enraged kids inspired to violence by his actions, he had been creeped out and concerned for how their behavior would reflect on him. Now, they had become such a normal part of society, that even seeing them in numbers didn¡¯t faze him.

    Then there were the seeming army of guys following Leila with their eyes. A few of them whistled at her. She must have endured this to a lesser degree daily, but tonight it was intensified by her more revealing attire, and that even outside the party, a number of the teens were intoxicated, bolstering their confidence.

    One of them had the nerve to shout, ¡°Nice rack, cutie!¡±

    Before Leila could decide if she wanted to acknowledge the jeer, Rodrigo spun. His group stopped and stiffened, probably expecting him to fly off the handle. A bunch of bored teenagers also watched for his reaction, hoping to see a fight break out.

    Ignoring the impulse to backhand the smirking guy through the wall he was leaning against, Rodrigo gave him a warm smile. He lifted his shirt up to his chest, baring his torso and winking at the guy, shouting back, ¡°Thanks, bud! I¡¯ve been working on my pecs!¡±

    The tension shattered as the block erupted into laughter, and the catcaller had a mortified expression. Adena looked nearly as embarrassed, as she put her head down and sped up, distancing herself from them.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to do that,¡± Leila said, as they continued walking, Rodrigo slowing his pace to fall into step with her.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, struggling to keep a straight face. ¡°I was just letting him know I appreciated him noticing my gains in the gym.¡±

    Leila shook her head, failing to suppress a smile. ¡°You¡¯re such an ass sometimes.¡±

    Jett stopped outside the building in the best condition. Unlike the rest, it had all its windows intact and no large chunks of brick missing from the walls. He pounded on the door, wanting to be heard over the music that had grown even louder this close.

    ¡°With all these people in the street, maybe the house is at max capacity,¡± Rodrigo suggested.

    ¡°Nah. I don¡¯t recognize most of these kids. Either the guest list got real outta control, or they got drawn here by the noise.¡±

    When the door finally opened, it revealed a petite girl with brown skin, wearing a green and white floral short-sleeved dress, and round rose-tinted glasses. Her eyebrows disappeared into the auburn bangs of her tousled waves, which fell to her shoulders. She seemed a freshman at the most.

    ¡°Hey, Val,¡± Jett said, and Rodrigo had to check his bewilderment. ¡°This is my cousin Ruy I was telling you about, and our friend Adena.¡±

    ¡°Oh, hi, guys. Sorry, Jett, the kid I had on doorman duty wandered off,¡± Valerie said, practically shouting over the beat blaring behind her. She leaned in to give him a quick hug. Then turned her attention to Leila. ¡°And you¡¯re Ted¡¯s girl...Lola?¡±

    ¡°Leila.¡±

    Valerie winced. ¡°Sorry. I haven¡¯t learned all the other seniors¡¯ names yet, never mind the juniors.¡±

    Rodrigo looked to Leila, who was avoiding his stare. For once, Raquel had used her years of experience as a tattletale for his benefit, so he wasn¡¯t completely blindsided by the existence of a boyfriend. But he had never heard a word about him from Leila herself, so he assumed it wasn¡¯t anything serious. Though, it wasn¡¯t like he had expected a girl as beautiful as her to stay single and wait for him, until he regained control of his chaotic life. Besides, if he had lost her to some other guy, it was his own fault for pushing her away.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Valerie¡¯s gaze slid to Rodrigo, as she studied him for a moment. ¡°Kudos.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°You look a lot like him. With a grungier outfit you could probably win a cosplay contest or something.¡± Still dwelling on that, ¡°Ted¡¯s Girl¡± comment, it took Rodrigo a few seconds to realize Valerie was talking about his resemblance to himself. Even with the darkness he operated in, it was a minor miracle no one managed to capture a clear picture of his face yet. But based on eyewitness accounts, the media had long since put together a semi-accurate physical description. ¡°You¡¯re too tall, though.¡±

    Rodrigo savored those words he¡¯d never heard before and barring a major growth spurt in his future, likely never would again. ¡°I am?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I know the internet bills him at, like, five-seven, but he saved my brother, Nathan, from some of those spider thingies. According to him, Karma came in spinning like some kind of ass-kicking dwarf, and sliced them to pieces.¡±

    ¡°Nate¡¯s not here, is he?¡± Jett asked, since it¡¯d be too suspicious if Rodrigo had. Though, he doubted someone who had been under the panic-inducing influence of the festered would be able to recognize him today, it couldn¡¯t hurt to make sure.

    Valerie snorted lightly. ¡°Mr. student council surrounded by people actually having fun? Yeah, right. Not like our parents would let the golden boy out, anyway. I had to tell them I was going to a sleepover at a friend¡¯s house, and even with my friends¡¯ parents covering for us, whenever someone aims a phone my way, I feel like I¡¯m at gunpoint, because I just know they¡¯ll be checking all my close friends¡¯ insta¡ª¡±

    ¡°No offense, Valerie, it¡¯s a nice night and all, but can we go inside?¡± Leila asked, showing a hint of irritation.

    ¡°Ah, yeah, of course. I just needed to step out for a bit. Feels like I¡¯m getting tinnitus in there. Come in.¡±

    Valerie led them inside, and Rodrigo immediately understood why she needed fresh air. The hallway was packed wall-to-wall with people holding red plastic cups, and the smell of pot and tobacco was thick all around them. Overhead, strobe lights were flashing, flickering to a new color every second as they cycled through the rainbow. The bass was so loud at this point, that Rodrigo was thankful Resent¡¯s regeneration would undo any damage done to his hearing.

    ¡°So, you guys are kinda late, and the kegs are running dry, but I stashed some drinks away, just let me...¡± Valerie paused as she looked at the bottom of the staircase where a burly guy in a black and yellow varsity jacket with an E patched onto the left breast was passed out. She prodded him with her foot. ¡°Kevin. Kevin! You¡¯re supposed to be watching the door. If I have to answer it one more time, you¡¯re not getting paid for this.¡±

    Kevin sat up, bleary-eyed, and yawned. ¡°No one¡¯s knocked, you little slave driver. I¡¯ve been here the whole time. Oh, hey, Jett, when¡¯d you get here?¡±

    She pointed at Jett and the rest of them. ¡°They just knocked. You were too smashed to hear it. And stop letting in randos to rob us blind. If I have to chase down another berserk preteen with two bottles in his hands, I¡¯m gonna lose it.¡±

    ¡°Anything to stop the angry squeaking,¡± Kevin mumbled, standing up and staggering over to the front door. He leaned against the wall beside it before slumping back to the floor and shutting his eyes again.

    Valerie shook her head in disgust, then turned back to them. ¡°Sorry about that. What can I get you?¡±

    ¡°Coffee,¡± Adena said flatly. ¡°Black.¡±

    ¡°C-coffee? Are you joking?¡±

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t have enough caffeine in my bloodstream to deal with any part of this night.¡±

    ¡°I saw a coffee maker in the kitchen, and Jett somehow got the house¡¯s electricity working. I¡¯ll check if the cabinets have any coffee.¡± Valerie looked at Rodrigo. ¡°And you?¡±

    For a second, he considered asking for a beer. If Miriam had done one thing right, it was keeping the alcohol out of the house, so he had never so much as sipped any. But even if the regeneration didn¡¯t negate the effects, like he imagined it would, he didn¡¯t ever want to find himself in a state resembling one of his mother¡¯s drunken stupors. ¡°Any kind of soda¡¯s fine.¡±

    Valerie was staring at them like they were aliens. ¡°Are you guys straight edge or something?¡±

    ¡°Maybe they are,¡± Jett said. ¡°I¡¯m sure not. Point me to the hard stuff.¡±

    Rodrigo knew his cousin was stressed about tomorrow, but he was still taken aback. ¡°Whoa. Since when do you drink, man? What would God think?¡±

    ¡°I think he¡¯d agree I¡¯ve earned it. You think I came here to dance my troubles away, Ruy?¡±

    Rodrigo wasn¡¯t here to babysit anyone, so he dropped it. ¡°How about you, Le¡ª¡± He trailed off as he noticed Leila had drifted away from them at some point. No doubt to find her boyfriend, he realized bitterly.

    ¡°Okay, so, Jett, follow me,¡± Valerie said. ¡°You two, head into the living room. I¡¯ll come find you in a bit.¡±

    When Jett and Valerie disappeared deeper into the house, Rodrigo and Adena wove their way through the throng of people, and into the living room. Thankfully, the atmosphere there was calmer, with most people just sitting and chatting while they snacked or drank. The only real disruption was a table set up where a couple guys, who already seemed drunk enough based on how rowdy they were being, were playing beer pong with the goal of getting even drunker.

    Adena sat at the end of a couch, determined not to do a thing until she got her coffee. Rodrigo sat next to her before a stranger could, and make her more uncomfortable than she already was. Fate must have had a cruel sense of humor, because sitting on a loveseat across the room from them was Leila. Her boyfriend, Ted, was wearing the same letterman jacket as Kevin, and had his arm draped around her shoulders.

    Rodrigo leaned closer to Adena and whispered, ¡°Did you know? About Ted?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t mention him because he¡¯s not important. In the two months they¡¯ve been dating, she¡¯s brought him up maybe three times.¡±

    Rodrigo found that cold comfort. For those two months, he¡¯d been left in the dark by everyone but his sister. In Adena¡¯s case, maybe it could be chalked up to girl code, but being in the same school, Jett had to have known, too, and chose to tell him nothing. The only one Rodrigo could believe was clueless was Geo.

    ¡°Stop glowering at them before he decides to come over here,¡± Adena said.

    Rodrigo scoffed. ¡°That¡¯d be a mistake on his part.¡±

    ¡°Careful, your father¡¯s sense of entitlement is showing. Last I checked, you two weren¡¯t engaged or even dating, so maybe stow the outrage and stop acting like she¡¯s cheating on you.¡±

    The words were just the verbal slap Rodrigo needed. Here Resent was giving him some peace and quiet for once, and he was spending his time brooding over things he wasn¡¯t in a position to change.

    Rodrigo wrenched his eyes from Ted and Leila sharing a bowl of popcorn, and smiled at Adena. ¡°I know you didn¡¯t want to, but I¡¯m glad you came. Resent¡¯s been giving me the silent treatment all day, and I guess I¡¯ve gotten so used to his put-downs that I¡¯ve forgotten how to act without them.¡±

    Adena looked away, suddenly finding the game of beer pong fascinating.

    ¡°Uh-oh. What aren¡¯t you telling me?¡± Rodrigo asked.

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°Mm-hmm. That poker-face of yours might fool everyone else, but we¡¯ve spent too much time together, Dena. I know your tells, even if they¡¯re subtle.¡± Like when she chose to break her almost unflinching eye contact.

    Adena turned back to him with an unusually guilty expression. ¡°Fine. I know you said no gifts, but I didn¡¯t listen. I considered buying you something practical, like a prosthetic, or a weapon. But then I thought about what I¡¯d want more than anything if our roles were reversed. And it¡¯s privacy. So, I bribed Resent to leave you alone for the day. I only meant for him to hush up, though, after a while, I saw his soul fly by and exit the warehouse. If he keeps to our agreement, then congratulations. For the next several hours, your body¡¯s your own again.¡±

 Chapter 56 â€“ Return of the Prince

    $24,000 for twenty-four hours of leaving the half-breed to his own foolish whims. That was the bargain Resent had struck with the Blight, who evidently had more currency at her disposal than she knew what to do with. For the first few hours, Resent had simply ignored all the boy¡¯s inane questions, and restrained himself from laughing at his blunders. But he quickly grew bored, and with talk of the puerile soiree they intended to spend their evening at, the prince had decided to use this opportunity to test the limits of his ability to possess humans.

    At first, he had nothing in mind beyond self-improvement. His soul, an immediately noticeable crimson gaseous thing, drifting through the sky in the light of day, left him with little choice but to hunt for isolated hosts down below. Though he had learned to hide most of the physical changes a human in his thrall underwent, their eyes still changed to reflect his own. And unlike one as experienced at the art as Jezebeth, he was unable to draw on his host¡¯s memories to impersonate them under scrutiny. Regardless of age or physicality, every person he possessed lost consciousness in the same way Rodrigo had at first, leaving Resent unimpeded. The difference was, in these purely human bodies, he felt his reduced strength far more acutely.

    It was after leaving the fifth body to collapse in an alley that Resent began to devise an essential, if reckless plan. He couldn¡¯t bear to wait until he was back in his own body, or even until the half-breed saw reason. That Semiazas had been chosen as protector meant that at least one other high lord was supporting him, suggesting an alliance between their respective cities. Only Ose, who despised the fallen scum nearly as much as Resent did, could be ruled out. Semiazas could not be permitted to grow comfortable wearing his crown, sitting on his throne. He needed to return to Hell. And that was precisely what he had done.

    It was more challenging and less cathartic than he fantasized. Upon reaching the half-breed¡¯s original dwelling, he made his soul soar hundreds of feet overhead until the black tower was within sight. The D.N.F had cordoned off the entire block that it occupied, erecting high walls around it and placing dozens of soldiers atop them. Fewer were at ground level and others were posted on the tower or the steps that coiled around it, surveying their surroundings through the scopes of sniper rifles. More were surely hidden from plain sight. None of this was an issue, as an untethered soul could phase through physical obstacles, and was therefore immune from most forms of harm. Ideally, it would have been as easy as plummeting from the tower¡¯s summit to the portal beneath.

    Unfortunately, one required a body to make contact with the portal to access it. For all their progress of late, the human military hadn¡¯t yet concocted a reliable countermeasure against possession. Even more so when it was short-term, and the sole discernible change was hidden by the dark spectacles the soldier Resent had chosen wore. He concentrated the nebulae into a dense, unobservable layer under his armor and cap, guarding his host¡¯s vitals from what was to come. No one had suspected anything of him, until he had gone from pretending to check the perimeter to breaking into a mad dash upon laying eyes on the portal.

    Those who hesitated, barking orders or questions at him were ignored. Those perceptive enough to know what was amiss, shot at him. He returned the favor, aided by sight and reflexes pushed beyond the natural peak of human capability. Though blood bloomed from every direction he swung his firearm in, all in all he slayed less than a dozen. A pittance compared to the slaughter of his own kind he had been committing in the humans¡¯ defense, even if he only did so in the interest of disciplining those who had refused to heed him.

    As he passed under the arch at the tower¡¯s base, four automated guns, cleverly concealed in the shade of the metal structure¡¯s legs, locked onto him. Resent could see why they were so effective against demons who had no knowledge of their presence. Of course, the nebulae could have shielded him from the hail of bullets that followed. But when he returned through a different portal on the other side of the world, he didn¡¯t want to be inconvenienced by the half-breed having been captured or killed on suspicion of his involvement.

    So, he endured the pain, allowing his host¡¯s body to be torn to shreds by the high-caliber nethntine rounds. His wounds forced him onto his hands and knees, into a shameful crawl. Once his broken, bloody fingernails scraped the symbol of the tri-horned demon, he was whisked away, just as he heard a missile swishing through the air behind him.

    Now, at long last, Resent was back in Hell. He rolled off the symbol and remained flat on his back, gasping as he covertly used the nebulae to staunch the most grievous of the body¡¯s innumerable punctures. Otherwise, he would bleed to death before they could regenerate closed, and traversing Hell as a soul made one much more vulnerable to the sway of necromancers.

    The azure torches lining the black stone walls illuminated a ring of ten diavoliks, armored from head to toe, pointing their spear-tips down at him. After a few seconds passed, and they sensed the demon soul inside the human vessel, they drew their weapons back, remaining on high alert. The formerly empty chamber now reeked of death, as littered with bodies as the tunnel beyond it was with bones. Less than half were human, and even of those, a number of them had surely been possessed. Most appeared to be demons lacking Resent¡¯s regenerative prowess, who had returned through the portal and succumbed to their injuries.

    Dissonantia had been right. He had granted their weak little species a reprieve, and now they had molded themselves into a threat.

    As if echoing Resent¡¯s thoughts, in Demonic, one of the diavoliks said, ¡°The primates grow more proficient by the day.¡±

    ¡°The blame lies with our shit stain of a prince,¡± another of them spat, and Resent tensed before remembering they were oblivious that he was among them. In fact, since writing him off as just another half-dead demon, they seemed to have forgotten his presence entirely. ¡°He killed King Misery, leaving a doddering pacifist in his stead, and ran off to play savior of the humans. Then when the attacks continued, he returned to kill him, too. And now the scrambling council has the lord of the pinioned poultry donning the crown.¡±

    Typically, Resent would have executed anyone for such slander. But though they were warriors of no repute, in his weakened state, he¡¯d be fortunate to defeat half of them. Besides, the responsibility on their shoulders was crucial. He had heard various countries were using demon prisoners to pass through the portals, sending their soldiers into Hell to try to get the lay of the land. But if reports were to be believed, not a single one had returned. Moreover, as much as it pained him to admit, from the perspective of those who hadn¡¯t been in his meeting with the council, his actions of late must have seemed treacherous and irrational.

    However, as he mulled over the words cataloging his questionable decisions, one in particular stood out. As Resent rose, his wounds healed, he cast aside his anonymity, asking, ¡°The prince killed Barbatos?¡±

    All but the most diligent, still focused on the portal, fixed him with hostile stares. The most insolent of the bunch ignored Resent¡¯s question and demanded, ¡°How long have you been on the other side?¡±

    Good grief. The humans had them on such edge that they didn¡¯t even trust their senses. ¡°Since the beginning of the campaign. King Misery tasked me with possessing various government officials, and shattering diplomatic relations between a number of countries, hence the no longer so United Nations. I chose not to let his untimely demise keep me from carrying out his will.¡±

    With the respect shown to Misery, allegedly in far better standing with the average soldier than Resent himself was, the diavoliks relaxed. ¡°Yes. The prince was seen entering the castle, and when he left, Barbatos and his four conquerors were decapitated corpses. That makes three rulers he has slain now. For years, he has been sabotaging us. Refusing to take the throne, while not letting anyone else have it.¡±

    Dammit! Resent hadn¡¯t given much thought to the impostor that had framed him for Strife¡¯s murder for some time, and now, left unchecked, they had done it again. What was more, he had always imagined Strife¡¯s assassin had only succeeded through using his visage to catch his father unaware. They might have been counting on some sort of paternal bond, when fittingly, it would have been Strife¡¯s underestimation of him that had been his undoing.

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    But Barbatos¡¯ personal guard, the four conquerors, were selected to compensate for the disparity in strength between him and the other high lords. To kill the four simultaneously, meant their killer was formidable. Though he had little intel on Ruincrest¡¯s newest high lord, Cresil, any of the others would have struggled at the task, particularly with Barbatos¡¯ precognition. Even in Resent¡¯s original body, that would have been a challenge. In the half-breed¡¯s it would have been impossible. Not that these soldiers needed to know the truth of the matter. Better to be viewed as a lunatic than a weakling.

    Resent was on his way out of the chamber, to take the tunnel up to the surface, when he heard the malcontent continuing the seditious conversation. ¡°At this point the cambion, Wrath, seems a better candidate.¡±

    Resent went rigid, waiting for the others to dismiss the idea and mock him for the absurdity of it. But when one responded, it was in earnest. ¡°What? Are you mad? Word is he has been killing nearly as many of our own in the human world as the prince has.¡±

    The malcontent gave a booming laugh. ¡°You only prove my point. Not two decades old, killing full-bloods in their primes, and nearly offing that bitch of a Blight in the arena before Resent intervened. King Misery trained him, grooming him to be the leader of the Brutes, and he has King Strife¡¯s blood coursing through his veins. Even if in secret, he grew up among us. How long before he tires of the human world and takes his rightful place in¡ª¡±

    Resent unholstered the sidearm he hadn¡¯t used in his earlier firefight and pulled the trigger, unloading the entire magazine into the back of the malcontent¡¯s helmet. It had been a gamble whether the armor they wore was forged of a significantly better metal than nethntine.

    But when the gun clicked empty, the diavolik¡¯s body hit the ground with a clang. For a moment, the remaining nine stared down at their comrade¡¯s corpse, blood oozing from the holes in his helmet. Then they spun, once again brandishing their spears.

    ¡°Decry your rulers, present and future, all you wish, but that nonsense he was raving about was treason against Hell itself! Now, when I go up top, shall I inform the sentries that the portal¡¯s in need of one replacement...or ten?¡± Resent¡¯s spectacles had been damaged in his rush to the portal, and now he ripped them off, tossing them, and the empty pistol, aside. As they saw his purple eyes, a number of the diavoliks inhaled sharply. Though not a trait exclusive to his bloodline, the color was exceedingly rare, and he was by far the most renowned living owner.

    When it was clear they had lost their will to fight, Resent turned on his heel, calling over his shoulder, ¡°The shit stain commends you for your service.¡±

    With the clandestine nature of his mission, he had perhaps erred in revealing himself. Especially since they had beheld him in a position of weakness and confusion. But the thought that any self-respecting demon would willingly follow a half-breed, even one Misery had built an appealing fable around, had driven him to fury.

    Resent had long since seen the folly in mentoring one destined to be a hindrance to him when they finally parted ways. However, he had always imagined the point of contention between them would be his son¡¯s sick need to find validation through protecting humanity. Not as a potential contender for the throne, even if solely in the minds of the delirious. And, though, Resent wished the solution were as simple as killing him, Rodrigo was the best spare, if he ever found himself in these dire straits again.

    Considering the caution Resent had exerted with his mates since his youth, the existence of another, less willful, bastard child coming to light was unlikely. Miriam had been an exception, because while she had meant nothing to him, Strife had practically been courting her. Taking one his father desired and not merely deflowering her, but having her betray her feelings for him, had put him in a euphoric state, deaf to the repercussions.

    After ascending the spiral staircase and exiting through the raised portcullis, Resent found the area much changed from the barren land it had been on his previous visit. An encampment, complete with round huts and watchtowers that stretched high into the deep red sky, had been stationed around the building. Those coming out were forced to pass through it, and the hundreds of sleepless demons lingering there.

    It was fortuitous that the portal was so far underground that they couldn¡¯t have heard the gunshots, or he might have been mobbed and eviscerated. If trespassing humans somehow penetrated this far, it was where they¡¯d meet their ends.

    Resent glanced to either side of the gate, assessing the chief sentries. On the right was a hulking giant, taller than the tallest of ogres, and with skin of stone, clearly not assigned the job for his cunning. On the left, a female romalkin, one of the upright spotted felines of Ose¡¯s breed. It was to her Resent voiced his concerns. ¡°A fresh soldier is needed below.¡±

    Before the romalkin could open her mouth, the giant spoke with unexpected lucidity, ¡°What? Why? Was there another breach, or have they been infighting again?¡±

    Resent shrugged, doing his best to mimic the half-breed¡¯s unwitting attitude. ¡°No idea. He was already dead when I came through.¡±

    As Resent was walking away, he heard the giant telling his companion, ¡°Investigate, and if they are quarreling among themselves, exterminate the lot of them. We have plenty of warriors up here more interested in gutting the humans than each other.¡±

    Just outside the encampment, he found a number of carriages where Dreadhounds were awaiting passengers. Resent hadn¡¯t used carriages much beyond childhood, having developed faster methods of travel with the nebulae. But as one used to the speed of four hounds drawing his personal carriage, he stopped in front of one with three, having no patience for the lumbering pace two would set. The lounging hounds glared at him through their masks, crafted from the bones of their first kills, unimpressed by the hue of his eyes and what they might signify.

    One of the hounds was noticeably younger and smaller than the others. Not quite a whelp, but close. It was a sight that might have scared off less savvy customers, yet even if they were of the same pack, if the adults thought the runt would slow their travel speed, they wouldn¡¯t be working with it. And then there were its eyes. Resent had seen hounds with mismatched eyes before, usually a result of crossbreeding, though, both were always luminescent. This one¡¯s left eye was the common glowing silver, but the right was a diavolik red, as if irreparable damage had been done to its own, and it received a transplant.

    Resent had no trigites, the coin of Hell, to fill the pouches around their necks, but he had something he knew they¡¯d prefer, if he could only convince them. ¡°Take me to Vicearia, and you can have this body to do with what you will.¡±

    Hounds didn¡¯t kill their prey with as few blows as possible out of clemency, but because they enjoyed the taste of fresh meat, unblemished by ugly wounds. A delicacy in these parts. Pity he didn¡¯t have a pizza to offer them, as it would probably secure their undying loyalty.

    The hounds exchanged glances, seeming to be deliberating over whether Resent could be trusted, or if they¡¯d have to chase him down, defeating the purpose.

    The young hound in the middle rose to sit on its haunches, its head resting lower than that of the body Resent was occupying. With the claws on its forepaw, the hound gouged into the ground, leaving Demonic scrawl in its wake that read, ¡°One leg now. Rest later.¡±

    Resent scoffed at the temerity of the beasts. They wanted to ensure he couldn¡¯t flee, but must have imagined him a buffoon if they thought he¡¯d agree to cripple himself while in their midst. ¡°So I can make it easy for you to have your feast without earning it? No. Save your haggling for a bazaar. Either take me at my word, or I find some hungrier, more agreeable chauffeurs.¡±

    The lead hound held Resent¡¯s gaze for a time, then nodded, strapping itself into the harness attached to the carriage. The other two seemed to defer to it, because they followed suit. He climbed the rickety carriage steps, went inside, and closed the door. After drawing the black curtains closed, he stretched out on the spacious padded bench, sized to fit some of the largest of demons, save ogres, which even the strongest hounds would struggle to haul.

    Even before his fifteen-year slumber in the urn, it had been decades since he had cause to visit the stronghold of the fallen angels. Unlike the other five great cities, Vicearia was essentially its own domain, with even its demon denizens obeying the word of their high lord over their ruler. There, Semiazas was king in all but name, making his daughter, Devika, akin to a princess. And after her humiliating defeat at Resent¡¯s hands in Dreadmus¡¯ arena, he had gone from being an unwelcome presence in their city to an object of scorn.

    That he was looking to parley with her, smacked of desperation, but he and she had always been a bit too similar. It was part of what made her captivate his interest more than any of his other mates, while also being why the two were incapable of staying civil for long.

    And now, as the hounds began their gallop, he was counting on that overabundant ambition of Devika¡¯s that had stressed their dalliance to its breaking point.