“It acts as a compulsion. The urge to return will get stronger every day, and the burning will increase.”
“And if you don’t go?”
“You would have to restrain me. It becomes overwhelming.”
“Okay, say I trap you in prison wards. Then what?”
“The burning eventually becomes hellfire. It will not stop until my remains are incinerated.” He would be dead. Permanently, irrevocably eliminated.
Not necessarily the worst option.
Bel cursed. “And what happens if we kill Paimon?”
“I would die too. My life force is tied to hers.”
“Of course it couldn’t be that easy.”
He frowned. “Why should you want to help me? When I am gone, you will no longer have to worry about my presence endangering your secrecy, and—”
“Shut up.” Belial waved a hand. “You sound like a martyr, and I’ve always thought martyrs were fucking idiots. Answer me this: do you want to belong to Paimon forever?”
Mist slowly shook his head. He couldn’t even speak aloud how much he despised belonging to Paimon, lest he lose his mind in his hatred of her.
“That’s what I thought.”
He stared into those bright blue eyes, waiting for Belial to speak.
“Look.” The former King of Hell dragged a hand through his hair. It was short and had been for a while. His hair instantaneously grew every time he flew into one of his infamous rages, but he hadn’t had one in nearly a month, something that was apparently unprecedented.
That wasn’t saying he seemed calm and relaxed, however. Rather, it was the opposite, as if holding back his rage was taking its toll. Shadows lurked under his eyes, and his hands were clenched into fists more often than not.
“I’m going to say some shit to you, and I’m only going to say it once, so pay attention. And if you ever repeat it, I’ll kill you, and all the work we’re doing to help you will go to waste. Got it?”
Mist nodded.
“Okay.” He seemed to be building himself up. “The truth is… I like having you around. You appreciate my food, and you help me clean up, unlike my idiot brothers. You’re Eva’s friend and you make her happy, which in turn makes Asmodeus happy. Which makes me happy. So we’re all happy motherfuckers, thanks to your creepy gray ass.
“So… you want to stay here, you’re welcome as long as you want. You want my help getting free from Paimon, you got it. So don’t give me shit about how I’ll be glad to see you go because I don’t want to hear it. Have I made myself clear?”
Mist nodded again. While he almost couldn’t believe what Belial was saying, he did know he valued it in a way he didn’t quite understand.
“Now that I’ve said my piece, you’re not going to question me or make stupid martyr comments anymore, right?”
“Okay.”
“Good. The first thing I have to do is some research. I’ve seen those brands before, but it was a long time ago, and I don’t know if I remember where. You tell me everything you know, and then I’ll do some digging. I’ll probably have to consult fucking Dan.” His lip curled.
Eva’s father was one of the Grigori, warrior angels that had fallen from Heaven long ago to mate with humans. Belial and his brothers had formed an uneasy truce with him due to Asmodeus’s relationship with Eva.
Though Dan hadn’t been happy about that, he’d accepted the logic of having a Prince of Hell guarding his Nephilim daughter and knew Eva would be angry if he killed her boyfriend. And Asmodeus had accepted that Eva wouldn’t appreciate it if he killed her father.
Thus, an alliance was born.
“In the meantime…” Belial tilted his head and stared at him.
Mist stared back. The silence stretched on.
“Go out with my brothers. You came here for a vacation—isn’t that what you said? So go out for once and stop lurking around the apartment.”
