Genesis Queen (The Road to Hell Series) (13 page)

“Manipulated by Micah….”
and Zen, too
. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why am I surprised?”

“It’s unfair to lay this transgression at Beliel’s feet. He wasn’t even aware you possessed the Scroll until you opened our gate. The last I knew Zen had hidden our Scroll from him and he was still searching for it. I was surprised when we were called out of our cage.” He angled his head to the side, his judgment keen. “The manipulator here would be your trusted advisor or Petra.”

With the emphasis on
trusted
. Madison wished she had something to throw at the dragon’s head. “Defending my husband will get your ass tossed back into Hell ASAP.”

Kur executed a minute nod. “Fair enough. May I say one more thing?”

Asking permission before speaking? She was sure not to like what he had to say. “Go ahead.”

“The fact that Zen trusted you with a creation he considers volatile and dangerous is a testament to his faith in you. Disregarding this fact would diminish the importance of the sacrifice he made.”

Defending Zen wasn’t anything she cared to listen to, either. “Why’d you align with me after everything was said and done? You insisted I leave Hell after I stabbed Micah.” Jacked up on her husband’s seraph, she’d wanted to remain. “You said the soon-to-come fallen angels massacred your dragons and that was why you would aid me. Was all of that a lie?”

“No. I might have omitted the precise truth, but I didn’t exactly prevaricate.”

“Kur, I’m this close”—she indicated how close with her finger and thumb pinched together, turning her fingertips white—“to tossing your ass back in Hell. Don’t make me pull the answers out of you.”

“What I said about Elias not being a King you wanted to screw with was the truth. He’d have peeled your skin from your bones, wallowed in your blood, danced to your screams, and started all over again. He and I are not friends, never have been, and are not likely to ever be associates. I would kill him happily for you just because you ask. I, also, spoke true about the fallen angels. Many of them were our enemies.”

“Were?” She elevated an eyebrow.

“Allow me to finish. None of the Four Kings were involved in the slaughter of my race. When Beliel discovered so many of us had been butchered because of our affiliation with the Atlantians through Zen, he took out the fallen responsible. When I told you I wanted to pick Beliel’s bones clean, that was said only to convince you of the deception.”

A lie in other words. “Micah thinks if I trust you, he has a foot inside the door to my heart?”

Kur shrugged. “That I cannot say. I was instructed to protect you and not to give away my alliance with him. However, the moment the Scroll was placed upon you, my allegiance to him evaporated. You are my only master.”

Madison was no one’s master, but she let the statement slide for the moment. “How much of that does Zen know?”

“I have no idea.”

Zen’s culpability in this cover-up bothered her more than any betrayal perpetrated by Micah. How could her friend believe a host of dragons
he
had imprisoned would be willing to help her? Why hadn’t he expected them to side with her husband? She aimed to find out soon.

***

Micah stood at the edge of the healing waters, the tide alternating between flowing to the edge of his feet and washing up to his calves. Somewhere in the rolling mass, his brother regained his energy. Waiting strained his patience. Anxious to return to Madison immediately, he tamped down his unease for her safety and turned to a mound of bleached bones. As he approached the hodgepodge of skeletons, they arranged themselves into a chair with a clacking noise.

Sitting, he stared over the terrain and wondered for the first time why the healing waters were reminiscent of an earthly beach. He remembered no forethought going into the construction, but when the four fallen angels had started Hell, they’d crafted many things without much consideration.

Those days were long gone and he could almost believe another soul had lived them. Times had been much different on earth after their departure from Heaven than they presently were. The humans Father had demanded they watch over had altered drastically since that ill-fated day. Not that with their evolution the humans were any less pathetic compared to their original counterparts. Oh, no, to his advantage they remained weak-willed, yet still venerated pets to his father. And Micah would work tirelessly to oppose his parent as the light-bearer to mankind, opening humanity’s eyes to the knowledge God wanted hidden. Information that would guarantee the mortals’ perpetual fall from grace.

Before Beliel’s ejection from Heaven, a Zennyo Ryuo had been referred to as
Volj
, a word that specifically translated into ‘guns’ and ranked them as Father’s personal snipers. Only one hundred had been gifted with immortality after Pandora butchered the pacifist race. As a species devoted to God, they did His bidding as He commanded, even after the Pandora fiasco.

Fools
. Every last one of them duped by Father.

He hadn’t resented them for their loyalty even though he still failed to understand their blind faith. He’d been a friend to Madison’s Zennyo Ryuo, fought as allies on multiple occasions. Until the Fall. Then overnight, they’d become enemies to be reviled and hunted down by all
Volj
. Adversaries because his parent deemed them foes. The unfairness a chronic chafe to his ideology of family. He would never cast his son aside because of a disagreement.

Father restrained his mighty
Volj
assassins when he discovered the Kings were providing a home to the lost souls he’d banished from Heaven. Those souls had converged in
Sargo
—a purgatory-like realm in today’s lingo—and given one another a lamenting sort of comfort. Exiled souls deserved a home, too. The four fallen brothers suddenly held a purpose, and Hell a reason for existing. It irked him to think Father might endorse their domain.

Some of the fallen angels assisted them. Others had sought death, and then there were the brother and sister comrades who resided among humans, pretending to be mortal. Living very earthly lives, nurturing families, aging and dying, only to start the process over again. In his estimation, no reason for existing.

Micah spied Elias’s head emerging from the bubbling red waters. In angelic form, his twin stumbled through the thick liquid—a mixture of the damned’s blood and tears—and crumpled to his knees before him on the bone-pebbled shore.

His brother gasped for breath as he sat on his heels, his arms hanging limp at his sides. Brown eyes flashed gold, with a hint of his kingly rank in his pupils. “She’s strong,
zkihtak
.”

Beliel rose from his skeleton chair and crouched before him. The clicking behind him indicated the make-do seat crumbled into a heap. Madison was stronger than he’d estimated if Eliel remained this puny after spending so long in the healing waters.

“She’ll be an asset to Hell.”

His sibling wiped the moisture off his face with his palm. “Or the destruction of it.”

“Do not start that again.” Micah ground his teeth together. He’d tolerate no slur against his wife, not even if it matched his own doubts.

“Someone must play the part of Devil’s advocate. You’re not willing to consider the alternative.” His brother sucked in a ragged breath and released it slowly. The dark flesh beneath his eyes reminded Micah of war paint, a testament to the fatigue Madison had induced in him. “I have no idea why my comment enraged her so quickly. I’ve always nettled her.”

“Madison’s not the docile woman you intimidated before.” He offered his hand, but wasn’t surprised when his brother shook his head, denying the assistance. Pride could be a bitch sometimes. “She’s matured, grown in confidence. She
will
be an asset to Hell.”

“How can you be certain? She wasn’t overjoyed at your arrival.”

The alternative wasn’t an option. If the substitute were seriously considered, it would herald his desire to seek the cold abyss of death. “I wish I could explain why I feel the way I do. I ask for your trust one final time.”

“If she disappoints once more, what then? Your life is bound to her.” A sour note between them and had been since he covenanted with Madison on their marriage. “We kill her, we lose you. It’s a lose-lose situation.”

If you can kill Madison
. He bit back that retort. “Everything will work out. I have a good feeling about our future.”

“A good feeling.” Elias grunted. “Right,
zkihtak
, nothing bad will result from our Madison project. I want her to work out as much as you do.”
Unlikely
. How could he when he didn’t love Madison the way Micah did? “A Lynx united with Hell makes us unstoppable, but if she’s against us….” His twin whistled. “Trouble in the worst fucked-up kind of way.” He slashed a shaky thumb across his throat. “I’ll kill her before I allow her to take Hell down, which creates further problems. Not just a dead King, a weakened Hell, but a nephew who will be gunning for us. A nephew with the unbelievable makeup of archangel, Lynx succubus, and human…might I remind you his powers are inconceivable in magnitude?” Elias wobbled as he pushed to his feet. “You can take your good feelings and shove them up your ass. The time for results has passed.”

Tension cramped Beliel’s belly. “Are you saying you cannot or will not trust me now, when everything is coming together?”

“Trust you?” He laughed. “No question I have trusted you. And even continue to trust you. I’m demanding results. What do your Azura stones indicate?”

“Madison is an enormous facet in my future.”

Eliel expelled a relieved breath. “It’s time for Hell’s Genesis Queen to claim her legacy.”

He believed that was precisely what the prophecy indicated.

Chapter Thirteen

Amos plowed through a horde of zombies, spilling guts all over the screen. Blood splashed on the television and dripped, creating a somewhat realistic illusion of gore, if he were to wear a mask in a real-life combat situation. Whipping and slashing his sword in one hand, he lopped off heads while shooting the undead between the eyes with the weapon in his other hand. Maybe a hundred zombies left to go before he beat the system and was crowned king of
Zombie Wars
!

Again.

His heart wasn’t interested in the fake killing any more. Video warfare grew boring. A different hunger prickled his curiosity. He wanted to kill something real. A tangible entity that spewed guts and genuine blood. While relishing their pleas for compassion, he’d be a stone-cold killer and lop their heads off. A kick-ass Sherlock. Just like Nix.

Momma insisted he run and hide when she grew a wee bit nervous. It wasn’t fair. He was ten. Almost eleven, for Christ’s sake! Zen said age was just a number, not worth remembering. He was years older than other kids his age. He’d already graduated high school. What ten-year-old could claim that? Not that he knew anyone his age. Surrounded by old folks, the youngest person he knew was his Sherlock hero. He wanted to be like his adopted daddy when he grew up. Badass. Afraid of nothing, not even what planned to kill them.

I have the power to be more than Daddy and Nix
. If he voiced that thought, it would freak out his momma. Sometimes it was best to keep his opinions to himself. No need to cause uncalled-for drama.

He hacked the head off the final zombie and the game flashed “winner.” But wielding extraordinary power wouldn’t grant him the privilege of utilizing it however he chose. Everyone in his life had taught him that. Even Petra. He would make his parents proud of him, Nix too, and use his mojo in a wise manner.

He already withheld information of their future, facts that would scare his momma silly. Like those sissy girls who scampered from bugs with those ridiculous high-pitched screams. His momma wasn’t a runner, at least not in that way. But when it came to his father, she hid her feelings. It was time she faced him. The days of evading him were over.

In the drawing he’d sketched last night, Momma stood in Hell, facing Daddy, and blue flames covered her body. Amos was almost certain it indicated she would become the Queen of Hell. That would frighten her. She could no longer escape her destiny, so he kept quiet.

Sometimes one had to face their fate head-on. That was a lesson Momma hadn’t learned yet.

No one thought he was old enough to understand the differences in love. But he knew both Nix and his daddy loved Momma. Loved him. Nix loved Momma with purity; regardless what she did, what she became, he would adore her. Daddy too, but he pushed Momma to see things differently, challenge her morals, and question her ideology. Both men were what she needed in her life. His foresight was vague on how she’d handle the two of them.

“Come in.” He swiveled on his seat and called at the knock on his door. Petra lounged on his bed reading one of her prissy girl magazines, but sat up at the sound of the rap. “It’s just Nix,” he told her as his momma’s boyfriend entered.

Was that how he should refer to him…Momma’s boyfriend? The word felt lame. Nix was so much more than a mere boyfriend. He’d called him Daddy by mistake earlier, but that’s how Amos felt about him. Had for a long time. Having two daddies wasn’t as eccentric as TV made it out to be, which overdramatized everything. But there wasn’t much normal in his life either, so what did he know?

Anxiety for the outcome of his parents kept him awake at night. Keeping quiet about what he knew through divination killed him sometimes.

He wouldn’t let Nix know he knew about his disagreement with Momma. He’d have to pretend everything was okay because adults didn’t like it when they thought a kid worried.

Adults were
so
weird!

“Wanna play?” He held up the game controller, hoping he could eliminate Nix’s concern with some fun for a bit.

“Nah. I don’t feel like killing anything right now.”

Bad memories haunted his Sherlock father figure. Amos suspected he’d seen and participated in too much bad in Hell. “What about some
Guitar Hero
?”