bedeviled & beyond 04 - bedeviled & belittled (14 page)

Blasted by the Past

A King must ever show his serfs, the power at his hands,

So another who would steal his crown, might think twice about his plans.

We landed in a stone corridor that was lit only by fiery sconces on the wall. The thick stench of burning oil and sulfur permeated the heated air. The air in the corridor was so hot, in fact, that it was hard to breathe.

I immediately felt weakness stealing over me as my light side cringed from the dark stain of evil hanging in the air. I had to assume that Dialle had taken me into one of the deeper circles of Hell.

If nothing else, the smell of sulfur in the air was not a good sign.

I grabbed Dialle’s arm as he started to stride away from me. “I have to get Darma and Myra out of that last dimension. I must go back there.”

He shook off my arm and started down the corridor.

There was nothing for me to do but follow.

“Right now Myra’s probably safer where she is. We’ll go back and get her as soon as we can.”

I frowned. It hadn’t escaped my notice that he hadn’t said anything about Darma. I figured that was because my sister wasn’t Dialle’s favorite person.

“Myra won’t last long in that dungeon, Dialle. She’s been chained.”

He stopped outside a wide, wooden door and frowned. “She’ll be fine. Just stay close to me and keep your mouth shut when we get inside, Astra. I’m in extremely sensitive negotiations and I don’t need you frunking things up.”

I glared at him but said nothing. The door opened and Dialle and I stepped through. My skin started to crawl as soon as I entered the room.

It was filled with dark worlders. But that wasn’t what bothered me. It was the humans that made my skin crawl. The place was filled with the dregs of humanity, the ones who’d walked on the wrong side of a dark, twisted road throughout their lifetimes and found the fires of Hell waiting at the end of it. These were the most evil, corrupt, and irredeemable types, the worst of the worst.

And worse than that, if they were in that room, I realized that meant the room was in one of the innermost circles of Hell.

In addition to the human debris, demons stood and sat around the enormous space, slavering gargoyles pacing and drooling around their feet at the end of short chains. Trolls, black fairies, and harpies lounged among royal devils on long, black divans, and lesser devils rimmed the perimeter, their beady eyes sliding dully over the room’s inhabitants.

I knew why they were there. They were fodder in case things went badly.

Ranged in rows all along the back of the room were Dialle’s Royal Guard, dressed in their scarlet-colored, gold-embossed uniforms and fully armed. There must have been at least a hundred of them there.

I couldn’t help wondering what Dialle was negotiating.

Astra?

Apparently our mental drawers had been opened again. I turned and realized with a start that, while I’d been checking out the room’s inhabitants, Dialle had been walking away from me, his long, determined strides quickly carrying him toward the front of the cavernous room. I felt hot, fetid breath against the back of my neck and turned to find a rock demon staring down at me. His wide, gray, craggy features were fixed in a lustful expression. As I glowered at him, he reached out and touched my cheek with a thick, cool finger that was rough all over like sandstone.

I slapped at his big hand and then gasped in pain, pulling my wounded digits back to cradle them against my chest.

The demon opened its rough-hewn lips and laughed, the sound rumbling through the room like an avalanche. The thing slid a surprisingly pink tongue out and waggled it suggestively at me.

“Get away from me you rocky horror show.” I couldn’t believe the creature had the stone gonads to make a move on me, Dialle’s chosen queen. Right in front of Dialle and the rest of the assemblage in that room.

In fact, I realized as I looked around, that there was a general lack of the necessary fear and respect that Dialle would need to be successful in his negotiations. Whatever they were.

The faces that returned my perusal ran from arrogant to downright bored.

Interesting.

I left the demon rumbling happily behind me and headed toward Dialle. My own, personal, royal devil king waited with a glare on his handsome face and a heavy throne waiting just under his hard, sexy butt. He held a hand toward me and I noticed there was a second, smaller throne next to his.

So, why is my throne smaller than yours?

I am the king.

But I thought you needed me to keep your kingdom strong.

Yes. That is true.

Then my throne should be bigger than yours.

Don’t be absurd, Astra.

I’m not being absurd, I’m being logical.

Stop causing trouble. I have much larger problems to address right now.

Larger than my own, personal happiness? I can’t imagine. I seem to remember being told that my happiness determines the health of your court.

I stopped in front of him and looked at the hand he’d extended to settle me into my tiny, little throne, which I couldn’t help noticing had fewer jewels on it than his did.
I can’t sit in this, not only is it too small, but it’s downright stingy on the jewels. This thing’s like a slap in the face. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. I’m feeling decidedly underappreciated.

Astra!

His tone told me I’d pushed him as far as I could for the moment. I grinned and he rolled his eyes.
Sit and listen. I need your insights on what occurs here today.

I allowed him to hand me into my measly, ridiculous throne before he sat in his enormous, well-appointed monstrosity.

I settled my gaze on him. He took a deep breath, easing himself into some semblance of calmness.

Time for the pièce de résistance.
If you value my insights so much, it seems odd that you’d put me into such a ridiculous throne.

“Hades!” he exploded. His handsome face darkened with rage and his eyes swirled with angry color. His hands fisted on the arms of his ornate throne.

Around us the inhabitants of the room jerked and blinked, and the room erupted in flame. The temperature in that cavernous room rose quickly under Dialle’s temper. Drapes burst into flames and the divans started smoldering. Lounging bad guys leapt quickly to their feet to avoid singed buttocks and charred ballocks.

I watched the assemblage behind a heat curtain that started somewhere beyond the throne area and spread toward the back.

Lesser devils started to pant and look around in fear, considering bolting. Their beady gazes kept sliding back to Dialle as if assessing whether they’d rather take their chances with him, or stay in that room and fry.

The stone walls actually began to run with moisture as if they were melting and several of the humans had already dropped to their knees, covered in sweat. Their faces were purple and their gazes blank, as if they were one bead of sweat away from death.

Even the dark worlders, Hell dwellers all, who, let’s face it, were used to fire, were starting to look a little peaky.

I rolled my lips to keep from smiling. Nobody looked bored or belligerent anymore. As the temperature in the room climbed, their focus on Dialle rose too.

There. Now you have their attention, Dialle.

He turned to me, his features still hard with anger. I watched as his pretty eyes softened in realization and his lips opened in surprise. As he turned away, shaking his head in disbelief, his lips trembled with the smile he didn’t want me to see.

Dialle let the heat level drop but kept it smoldering just below the surface, easily felt by even the most impervious of the room’s inhabitants.

I sat back in my tiny throne and let myself feel a little smug.

Dialle’s first words ripped that smugness right out of me.

“King Nerul, it has come to my notice that you wish to offer your services in vanquishing my father. I will hear your proposal now.”

I jerked upright in my throne and cast my eyes out into the crowd, which was still pulling itself together after Dialle’s anger barbecue.

The crowd was shoved aside as a large number of the Royal guard pushed their way through. The guards were dressed in black, with silver decorations at their cuffs and on their broad shoulders. They weren’t Dialle’s guard. My heart sank. There were only two other Royals who would have their own armies. One of them was supposed to be dead, and the other in indefinite servitude to the Serpent.

Obviously one of them wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

The soldiers pushed to the front of the crowd and spread out in both directions, forming a buffer between their liege lord and the riffraff in the room. I didn’t have to wait long to see who they belonged to, groaning in disgust as a familiar face and form emerged from the center of the guard.

King Nerul, as evil a royal devil package as ever there was, had apparently risen from the dead.

I stood.

Not a word, Astra.

I flicked a glance at Dialle and snorted.
Sorry, bud. I owe this jerk some serious grief. I’ll let you have whatever’s left when I’m done.

Dialle reached out and grasped my hand, holding it in an iron grip.
Sit, stay.

I growled low in my throat but allowed him to pull me back to a seated position.

Dialle inclined his head toward King Nerul in greeting. “I await your proposal, Nerul.”

Nerul was tall and slim, and, just as I remembered him, not wearing very much. He wore only a gold armband on his upper arms and a pair of tight, black leather pants. His golden chest was covered with soft, curling black hair and he wore his glossy, black hair tied back in a ponytail. The midnight velvet of his eyes, which were deep-set and tapered up like cat eyes beneath thick black brows, sparkled in the candlelight and left a trail of fire on my body wherever they focused.

My Settling sparked hopefully.

Disgusted with myself, I focused on Nerul’s history as a form of distraction, marveling that he kept cropping back up in my life. Nerul had taken a group of followers in the human year 2001 and split off from the main court, to set up his own court. Up until then the Royal who would be king had been third in line for the throne. However, his scheming and backstabbing ways had landed him in trouble a few too many times. The general belief was that Dialle’s father, King Dialle the First, was going to dismiss Nerul from the court within a matter of weeks when he finally took his band of cutthroats and skedaddled.

Nerul wanted to be the Serpent’s one, true leader on Earth.

Before Nerul left the court of Dialle the First, there had always been only one Devil Court. Although he called himself
King
Nerul after establishing his little kingdom, his leaving didn’t change the fact that the devils only recognize one true king.

Humans think Satan is the king of devils, but the true king is actually Satan’s direct servant. His power is subjugated by Satan’s. Satan rules the entire dark world through a single devil king, which is why it is such a coveted position.

My Dialle was the first devil king to tamp down on Satan’s influence within his court. He’d vowed to consider the human and magical worlds in the course of leading his court. Which was why he’d been called the great unifier in prophecy.

Now Dialle was newly placed upon the throne to lead the dark world, and I was looking at Nerul again. That could not be good.

Don’t trust him, Dialle.

I do not.

Nerul’s pretty, dark eyes landed on my face and his wide, red mouth tipped upward at the corners. “We meet again, pretty halfling.” His tongue slid out and swiped across his lips and his eyes sparked lustfully.

My Settling roared. I determinedly tamped it down, but not before Nerul’s nostrils flared in recognition. His smile widened.

Holding Nerul’s gaze, I kept my face as neutral as possible and said nothing. I could be political when I had to...if something irresistibly snarky didn’t leap into my head first.

At that moment, a sense of foreboding was clanging around in my chest and I didn’t feel motivated to be flip.

I hoped Dialle knew what he was dealing with.

Nerul inclined his head toward Dialle. “It is my pleasure to serve, King Dialle.”

I snorted, drawing an angry look from Dialle.

Nerul looked amused. He’d always enjoyed my lack of decorum. Our devils had that in common.

I shuddered at the thought.

“King Dialle the First has barricaded himself near the fires. He is gathering subjects and unwilling participants as we speak. He fully intends to take back his throne and rule again.”

Dialle’s face was unreadable. I figured I was the only one who noticed the change in his scent that told me he was angered by Nerul’s words. “He cannot escape Hades.”

“No. But he intends to rule from here.”

“Can he do that?” I turned to Dialle, my eyes widening in panic.

He ignored me.

Nerul apparently decided my question had been directed at him. “Yes. Technically. Though it would be difficult to retain power under those circumstances. If he has
trustworthy
lieutenants on Earth he can manage it.”

I didn’t miss the inflection. “And would you be one of those trustworthy lieutenants on Earth, Nerul?”

He grinned. “I will not lie to you, my queen, I will side with whomever wins.” He turned to Dialle, who’d stiffened at his words. “But I prefer to pick the winning side.” He bowed slightly. “I pick you, Your Majesty.”

Dialle stared hard at the nasty piece of work standing before him for a long moment, the temperature in the room climbing slightly as he fumed and mused over Nerul’s dubious offer of support.

Finally he said, “What do you propose?”

Nerul lifted his hands, indicating the impressive ranks of soldiers ranged around him. “I have many faithful followers, majesty. I put them at your disposal, of course.”