Page 45 of The River of Fire
“You’re on the Council? Didyouwant us to come here?” She sounds impressed, though I always found it a tedious position.
“Yes,” I sigh. “Heaven believes that an exodus from Hell due to overcrowding would lead to Armageddon on Earth. While our side may find the chaos of the process enjoyable, those of us in command know that the extermination of the human species would staunch the flow of sinful energy coming from Above.Demonkind would be forced to feed off each other. Most would eventually starve.”
“Yikes. Speaking of overcrowding…” She ducks into a narrow passage and I wait until she is nearly at the other side before I materialize there. “Show-off,” she grouses. “But, overcrowding, can you explain that to me? Because the majority of human souls don’t become demons, right, just incorporeal? And while we dispatch manifestations daily, and I see a minor demon or two almost as often, it doesn’t feel that cramped here, you know?”
I turn and she stops before she would have crashed into me. “You know how the manifestations come to be, correct?”
She frowns up at me, either because of my sudden stop, or because she believes I’m questioning her intelligence. “Yes, of course. Several human souls that have been sent to Hell have to be occupying the same space to become dense enough to evolve into the ghostly blobs we see.” She comes to the realization and her mouth forms a tempting little oval. “Oh.”
“Yes,oh. If you saw what I see, you would be hesitant to stroll around so casually.” Point made, I turn and start walking again, but not before I see her shudder.
“You see every soul? How bad is it?” She catches up to me, her beautiful spring-green eyes wider than usual.
This time I frown. “Not so bad that there should be two or more manifestations so closely together. But while Heaven is perpetually expanding, accommodating the ever-increasing influx of souls, Hell is static. Frozen just as Father made it eons ago.”
“That part I know.” She nods. “Why isn’t Hell expanding, though? It’s like building a prison and just adding more and more inmates, not changing the size or number of guards.”
“Mm. That is a fitting metaphor. But I do not presume to know Father’s plans…” My voice trails off as I sense something – someone – ahead. The infernal opening to the Pits under my brother’s house indicated that he is in the heart of Hell, but could we have been wrong?
“You still call him Father,” Lana muses. “After all this time,after everything?”
“I do not hate Him,” I reply absentmindedly. “Not like some of my brethren.”
My curious pet would probably have dug deeper with her endless questions (and I would have indulged them because she clearly has me by the balls), but she stops and straightens in alarm instead. “There’s a demon ahead. Judging by the similarity of your power outputs, I would wager a week of Abaddon’s kitchen duty that it’s an archdemon.”
Her senses are as sharp as the Fallen claimed. “How loud of a temper tantrum would you throw if I asked you to stay here?”
“Like releasing Puck in a china shop,” she replies, her voice singsong. Fine. I would hesitate to leave her unguarded regardless. She is safest with me.
Another twenty minutes and we reach a cavern with a high ceiling, an underground stream steaming from subterranean lava flows gurgling on the far side. There is furniture, though nothing would make the cavern appealing to a woman used to human comforts – which is what Asmodai attempted, judging by the less Spartan additions of pillows heaped on the bed, bookshelves full of colorful volumes, and a plush seating area.
I determined the identity of the archdemon standing before that bed, back turned to us, before we entered. And it is not my brother.
Chapter 32 – Lana
“Belial,” Ash greets the crowned archdemon occupying the cavern we walked into. While he’s tall, it’s not his physical presence that chokes the air, making the chamber feel smaller, but that oppressive aura. I suddenly realize that, while I always felt Ashtaroth’s aura of static and heat, it never felt as intolerable to me as the one I feel now. It’s making me feel worthless, thinking of all my failures, losing Simone at the forefront of my mind. We’re here looking for her – she’s likely alive. Did we stop searching too soon, and let her suffer for years?
As he turns, I realize it’s not the most horrible thing about his presence after all. Because Belial is not wearing a form that’s remotely human, and is far, far from the angelic perfection of Ashtaroth’s face. His skin is leathery and a pale, sickly gray. His eyes are slanted, red on the outside, and orange where an iris and pupil should be. His nose is nearly flat, the diagonalnostrils reminding me of a goat’s. In fact, I can see why demons were often depicted with goat-like features, if Belial’s face is any measure – the ears protruding to the sides, the curved-back horns. There’s a horned ridge bisecting his forehead and disappearing to the back of his head. It looks like it burst out of his skin. More horns extrude from the jawline and his jagged mouth is lipless and full of thin razor-sharp teeth.
I can’t help feeling the primal dread that’s twisting my stomach. I’m also very grateful that he’s hiding the rest of his body with the heavy robes he wore when they visited Purgatory – I just wish he had also left his hood on.
Probably seeing the horrified disgust on my face, Ashtaroth seethes through clenched teeth, his voice low and full of anger. “Change forms.” When Belial just tilts his head at the command, he snarls, “Now!” I haven’t seen him like this before. He’s not just angry, he’s practically vibrating with something I can’t quite name.
“Why?” Belial drawls in that honeyed voice, so at odds with his grotesque appearance. “Are you afraid your mortal pet will see what truly lies beneath the beautiful flesh she takes inside her body?” He’s virtually cackling like a villain in a cheap horror movie at Ash’s reaction, the clenched fists now aglow with hellfire.
Seeing him so unsettled, this normally insouciant and overconfident male, a sense of protectiveness wells inside me. Maybe it’s the way he thinks of my needs: the food and water, the extra sleep, and the toilet he doesn’t need. And perhaps I’ve set the bar real low if I take into consideration how he didn’t kill Kevin and how he’d ripped Nick’s spine out before he could kill me. Look, I know it’s absurd. Not only has he done more horrifying things himself – spine in point – but I’m just a speck of dust compared to his mountain range in age. He doesn’t need me to defend him in any way. Still, I stare up at him until his attention shifts to me. “Just so you know,” I say when his fiery eyes lock with mine, “I’m not that into monster porn. We could maybe introduce a tail here or some horns there, though,” I say,tapping my index finger against my chin in thought. “Oh!” I exclaim. “Can you do the forked tongue thing?” I ask sweetly.
Ash’s eyes warm – don’t ask me how I notice that, given that fire burned there to begin with – and a corner of his mouth twitches, betraying his signature almost-smile. But then he turns to Belial, the fire wreathing his hands extinguishing as he crosses his arms, and he looks back like his normal conceited self. “Why are you here, Belial?” he asks in a long-suffering voice that seems to piss the other archdemon off.
“Looking for Asmodai, just as you are.Ashtaroth.” Clearly unhappy that he didn’t manage to wedge a divide between us, Belial’s voice loses its sugared sweetness for a moment. He regains his usual demeanor though and sighs. “Clearly, he’s not here.” He spins with a hand extended, palm upturned, like a game show hostess presenting a prize.
Ashtaroth doesn’t point out that the opening to The Pits indicates Asmodeus is with Lucifer anyway. Belial was the first one to find out what it was Akira and I saw on our scouting mission, after all. Ashtaroth just waits for Belial’s dramatics to end, his face set in an air of boredom.
“Though,” Belial prolongs the word, enunciating slowly, “I have heard a rumor that the woman’s family got involved. According to my sources,” he simpers, “they’re all well aware of their ancestry and trained their whole little mortal lives to prepare for conflicts with Celestials.”
The archdemon beside me, arms still crossed in a way that feels distinctly disrespectful, grumbles dismissively. “Even if they somehow entered Hell in search of her, they would hardly pose any threat to one of our kind.”
“True,” Belial drawls slowly again. I wish I had brought my earplugs – his voice is giving me the heebie-jeebies. “It is, however, a lead worth following, no?” He grins and I see those sharp teeth are even longer than I thought.Fucking hell. “After all, we can’t go inquire with the Prince unless he decides to honor us with his presence.”
