Blood Stained Tranquility (12 page)

There was a moment of silence behind him.

“Pretty gods damned important,” Zexistr agreed.

“He’s out of control regardless. I still think he should head straight for Evesse. She’s newly turned and suffering without him.”

Zeniel exhaled roughly at the reminder, wondering if bashing Crius’s face in wouldn’t be enough to assuage his current need for violence. “Why aren’t
you
running to the female that needs you?”

“She’s not mated to me.”

“Would you go if she was?”

“Hell, yes. Before my heart could take its next beat.”

Because then Crius would have a surefire guarantee that his female couldn’t betray him. Holy shit, he exemplified the term
trust issues
. Frustrated, Zen decided to try another tactic.

“What would you do if you could get your hands on Maleksoraniel’s soul and make him pay for what he once did to Dimithinia?”

He practically heard Crius come to a stop behind him.

“You know where his fucking soul is?” Crius’s tone promised the type of violence that made what Zen was about to do seem like nothing. It also made it quite clear that he was still searching for that soul, millennia after its mortal death.

“Keep moving or I run you over.”

“I’m as big as you are, Existence. I’d like to see you try. Zeniel, answer my question.”

“You said it, I’m Existence. I can run over whatever the hell I like, little brother.”

Zeniel barely checked the urge to slam their heads together. “It truly is like dealing with two Cyakes.”

“Shut the fuck up, Zeniel. That’s not what I asked. Do you know where that piece of shit’s soul is?”

“No, Crius. I don’t. My point is, if you could get your hands on his soul right now and punish it, wouldn’t you? Especially if it meant making you calm enough to actually be near the woman? Actually, do I have to remind you what I stumbled upon when I went to get you?”

Zexistr’s tone was drenched in curiousness. “What’d you stumble upon? What’d he do now?”

Crius rushed forward and shouldered Zen roughly out of the way. “Move. I’ll get you that soul in the next few minutes, tops.”

Zexistr laughed.

Zeniel dusted himself off once more and nodded. “Much obliged. Do hurry, will you?”

Less than a minute later, the three gods appeared in front of a gigantic, black stone mansion.
Renentr
resembled an ancient palace. Hades’s in his realm was . . . well, a Greek temple. Lucifer’s resembled a Gothic fortress, complete with spiraling towers and conical roofs. It stood on the highest peak, its tallest tower almost touching the stone ceiling above.

Below them lay the many layers of Hell, a spiraling “road” that branched off into other roads, each twisting further the lower they went. Zen turned away from it all and followed the others into Lucifer’s castle.

The King of Hell was waiting for them inside his office, his back to them as he faced floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the entirety of his domain.

“Existence, brother of mine, as much as I like to see you, your aura literally stinks up the place, even in your current state. It’s all about death down here, and you’re just so
alive
.”

“Everything exists because I do.
You
continue to
exist because of me. Stop complaining.”

“And I’m supposed to be grateful that I continue to exist?” Lucifer turned around, his red eyes landing on them. Amusement shone in the unfocused, red orbs despite his words. “There you have it. If the rules really did apply and the stories were one-hundred percent true, my oldest brother would have a permanent place in my deepest pit. Never-ending hubris.”

“Something you’re well acquainted with, Hell.”

Lucifer ignored Zexistr’s remark, his face melting into a smile for Crius as he walked into the room. They looked like twins, apart from their eyes. Hades shared the resemblance, but his eyes were black. The three shared a father with the triplets, but Crius, Lucifer, and Hades had a different mother.

The former God of Existence had been anything but celibate. Or faithful, as it were.

“How are you,
fort’em
?” Lucifer asked, using the old language word for brother. “Why does it take Vengeance needing a soul for you to come back here? I’ve received visits from all of my brothers, but you refuse to indulge me.”

Crius stepped forward calmly. “Guilt is a bitch I’d rather avoid. I’m sure you understand what I mean.”

The brothers gave each other a quick one-armed hug.

“No excuse. If mom was alive, I’d sic her on you.” Lucifer clapped Crius on the shoulder, and then turned to Zeniel. “I’m feeling magnanimous. You can have the soul.”

Zeniel didn’t even bother asking Lucifer how he’d known. “What’s the catch?”

“None.” With a shrug, Lucifer tapped two fingers on his black desk. “His soul is still attached to Hell, even if I allow you to take him out of here. And I know what you’re capable of, Vengeance. I know that you will make him suffer even more than my minions could. We’ll be feeding on that suffering.” Lucidity seemed to leak into his red eyes for a moment, sharpening them.

Zeniel shrugged, which should have surprised him. Three weeks ago, he would have panicked at the thought of allowing Mavrak to cause that much harm. Now, his desperation to get back to Evesse made it easier for him to simply agree.

“You got it. Thanks.”

The Lord of Hell inclined his head graciously. An
Aristi
appeared in his hand. His eyes became unfocused once more as he stared down at it.

“Evesse wasn’t his only victim, and he did worse to the others. Just a little reminder.”

“I’ll take care of him. Trust me.”

“Good.” Lucifer threw the
Aristi
at Zen who caught it. “Ah, one of the actual perks of this position: Getting to see karma being dealt out over and over again.”

Zexistr smirked. “How empathic of you.”

“Every soul here committed horrific crimes while alive.” Lucifer gestured to the floor-to-ceiling windows, his stare once more taking in the vast monstrosity of his domain. “If I have to suffer, trapped here, having billions of them suffering as well is just a minor perk.”

Crius’s jaw clenched.

“I expect us to have drinks eventually, Crius. I’ll make sure Hades comes,” Lucifer said. He braced both hands on his grotesquely large desk, watching them. “On to you, Existence.”

Lucifer’s face went blank. He was hiding something.

Zeniel actively blocked reading his grid. There were some things he just didn’t need to know anything about. Lucifer’s mind or emotions? Those were two of the main ones. Zen actually felt somewhat calm, and he didn’t want to threaten that. Not while he was in hell, looking at its king.

“I had a vision. In it, I saw you. I saw the wheels of destiny. And I saw Karma.”

Zeniel stiffened.

Zexistr scowled at Lucifer. “In what way?”

“That’s the funny thing. I can’t really remember. I just recall the association.”

Crius’s glare matched Zexistr’s and Zen knew that neither one of them wanted to read his mind either.

Lucifer remained straight-faced, his demeanor giving away nothing. “Crius, have you seen an uprising in the number of your minions plotting against you?”

Crius stiffened. “Yes . . .”

Lucifer clapped happily, as if everything in the universe had been set to rights. “Then I say we all agree on the obvious. Existence is about to have his ass handed to him in some way or form. And war is being declared on all sides. Happy times.”

No one knew what to say to that. Not that there was anything to say. They’d all turned to leave when Lucifer spoke up again.

“As for that Karma, Zex. I’m sorry brother, but it seems to be coming for you . . . and it’s her sister you have to worry about.”

“You said that you could only recall the association. What aren’t you telling me, Lucy?”

“What I was forced to vow to keep to myself, brother. Nothing more. You know I can’t break a vow. And stop fucking calling me Lucy.”

It wasn’t lost on Zeniel how Zexistr reached for the small medallion around his neck, his fist curling around it.

Nor was it lost on him how Crius’s stare was glued to his brother’s back.

Crius knew. Zen didn’t know how Crius had found out, but he knew what Zexistr had done.

Chapter 9

-
Enzyria.

Eve was depress—

Nope, that wasn’t right. She was
aggravated
.

She had spent hours on end sitting in an ice sheet created by her own body, and when that fun little experience had ended, the switch had been flipped on her fucked-up internal thermometer. She was now melting into a puddle of her own sweat.

Fucking lovely. One of the most disgusting deaths she could imagine, and it was happening to her because of her
mating
symptoms.

Mating. The damn word alone was enough to make her lose her mind.

Ianthen, Vedlyl, and Dyletri had flashed around the compound, materializing a superpowered, industrial strength heating and AC system right into the walls, for the first time in the history of Enzyria. All for her comfort. Why? Because four days ago her mating symptoms had decided to really pick up steam.

It had happened to Ismini, but apparently, the symptoms attacked the victims—as Eve now referred to herself—at varying speeds and intensities. Hers had taken a few days to start showing, and then rose and fell in unpredictable waves when compared to Ismini’s.

Hyperhidrosis sucked ass. Hyperthermia was even worse. She Googled that shit since the search engine was the only companion she could stand right then. Evesse was trapped in a hellish cycle, and it was eating away at the last of her composure.

I never had that much to begin with!

What little remained had abandoned her, and it had decided to take her goddamned tenacity along with it. The biggest part of her personality, the main thing that made her
Evesse
, was gone.

She was a tough ass. She’d gone through hell and back in her life and had barely shed a tear in years. Sadness had been felt, sure, but then promptly discarded in favor of more practical shit. Like action. The Evesse she had been before she’d gotten sacrificed alongside Ismini would have laughed at her current predicament. Or else she’d curse some motherfuckers out before waltzing away with her head held high.

Now . . . now she was sitting in her room, as she had been for the last week, all by herself. Soleria and Ismini had tried to spend time with her, but Evesse had no clue how speak to them. She was angry. She was broken. She hurt so bad, so deep down, that each breath grew more and more difficult.

How was she supposed to communicate with them in that state? Not to mention she hated letting anyone see her so wrecked. She couldn’t even stand to look at herself in the mirror.

Vedlyl was the only one she allowed in, although she was close to barring him as well. She was mated and trapped inside said mating. There was nothing he could do in the long run.

A hot tear, just another amongst many she had cried in the last few days, slid down her cheek. Pissed off, Evesse wiped it off her face.

She leaned forward and focused on the computer screen sitting in front of her with all her might. She wasn’t going to cry again. She was so sick of feeling and hearing herself cry. She was . . .depressed.

She was downright depressed. And no matter how much she tried to deny it, there was no escaping it.

Nylicia, the one being—scratch that—the one
hologram
Eve would never be able to escape kept popping in and out of the walls in her room and telling her that her emotional state was normal. That the hormones and chemicals being released by her mated body were responsible for Eve’s screwed-up emotional state. Her limbic system and amygdala, apparently, were being drowned by estrogen, cortisone, norepinephrine,
and
deprived of oxytocin, serotonin and dopamine.

She had had no freaking idea what any of that meant until she had looked it up on Google the day before. Technically, according to what Eve had read, it all seemed slightly similar to a regular human falling in love . . . except on a shittier level. And the scientific explanation of why she was such a mess sure as hell didn’t make it any easier to deal with.