He held him in place and forced their eyes to meet. “You were correct in assuming Belial protected his precious brothers in our bargain. But he didn’t protect anyone else. Your brother Meph… He’s fond of a certain witch, isn’t he? Blue hair, feisty attitude? I wonder how he would react if she were to, say…diein an unfortunate accident.”
Even through the venom’s haze, Raum’s eyes flared.
Gotcha, Murmur thought. Demons weak enough to develop emotional bonds were the easiest to manipulate.
It was a lie of course. Belial had very clearly stated that he, his brothers, and those deemed important to them could not be endangered by Murmur or any favors he might ask Belial to perform.
But Raum was high as a kite at the moment, and he wouldn’t be able to think clearly enough to figure that out. “If you tell me why you’re here, your brothers will be safe, and so will their precious humans.”
Murmur shook his head, thinking of the shamefulness of some of the most feared demons in history allowing themselves to be tamed like horses by mere humans. “I’ll ask you one more time—”
“Mine,” Raum mumbled. “Sunshine.”
Murmur made a face.Great.He’d obviously given Raum too much venom. He was delirious and spouting gibberish about sunshine and rainbows.
This was what happened to demons who left Hell. Their minds were truly addled.
Raum’s eyes were open, but he wasn’t aware of anything. Who knew what words would come out of his mouth now. Doubtful any of them would have much meaning.
“Mine,” the demon mumbled again. “She’s mine.”
“Who is yours?” Murmur asked just to keep him talking. Maybe he’d mumble something of value and this whole thing wouldn’t be a complete waste of his time.
“Heaven…”
Murmur stiffened as his last vision suddenly returned to him, the muddled images disentangling until it became crystal clear why Raum was here. He saw the book in his mind’s eye and remembered his conviction that someone was coming to steal from him.
The goddamn angels were after Gamigin’s grimoire.
How?How had Heaven learned of the importance of this grimoire? Surely they hadn’t discovered what Murmur was doing with it. No one else knew of its true value or his plan, he was certain. Not even the witch he’d stolen it from knew, though there was information within its pages directly pertaining to her.
“Heaven wants Gamigin’s book,” he guessed. “And you’re here to steal it for them, aren’t you?”
It was rare indeed for angels to have voluntary association with demons, but they weren’t above binding them into service with a careful contract when it suited them. And no angel in their right mind would come to Hell without backup.
Raum and his brothers were especially easy to manipulate due to the bonds they’d formed. Murmur had determined this within minutes of their meeting—an angel would likely discover such a glaring weakness just as quickly.
This was why Murmur abhorred personal attachments. The day he allowed himself such a vulnerability would be the day he was finally destroyed.
He dropped Raum’s chin suddenly and stepped back. All the enjoyment of harassing his prisoner had suddenly left him, and instead he felt vaguely depressed.
Raum had once been a worthy adversary. In the height of his day, no underworld treasure had been safe from his rampant thievery. The two of them had crossed paths, and swords, more than once, and Murmur had always respected him—coupled with the distaste he felt for everyone, of course.
But now…Raum was likely bound in service to an angel. He wasworriedabout others because hecaredabout them.
It was sad, really. Pitiful.
But Murmur didn’t have time to feel sorry for him, and he couldn’t be bothered either. Heaven wanted his book, and he needed to make sure they never got it. He needed to double down on his defenses and accelerate the speed of his experiments.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over him so intensely that he swayed. When was the last time he’d slept? Not since that last cursed nightmare.Doesn’t matter. There’s no time for rest.
He gripped Raum’s chin and lifted his head again, but Raum’s eyes stayed shut.Unconscious.If he wanted any more information, he’d have to wait until he sobered up.
With an exasperated sigh, Murmur spun on a heel and strode from the cell into the low-ceilinged tunnel, slamming the bars to Raum’s cell shut behind him.
“Master,” the two gargoyles on guard duty said as he passed the dungeon’s entrance. They bowed deeply, but Murmur swept past without a backward glance.
On second thought…He stopped and spun around. “I have much work to do and require privacy. You’re not to disturb me except for the direst of emergencies. If anyone comes to my tower unnecessarily, I will put them on the spikes to rot for the next century, do you understand?”
