Redeemed by Rubies (A Dance with Destiny Book 6) (34 page)

“And that’s the damn truth.” Shamsiel lowered his voice. “You don’t deserve the favor you have been given. Do you know how many times
I
had to err before being bound in this place?”

Again, Jenevier did not answer him.

“Once! There is only
one
sin to my name! Tell me. How many have been logged against
you
, Angel?”

Jenevier glanced to the side. “Too many to count,” she barely whispered.

“Yes. Too many to count.
That
be the truth of it.” He gripped her chin tighter. “Now… tell me why.”

“How the hell am I supposed to answer that?” Tears filled her eyes, angry tears. “I already told you. I don’t know!”

The flame-crowned Arch snorted. “It’s just one of the great mysteries of the universe, I guess—why are humans so damn special.” He roughly released her chin and began circling her again. “And… why are
you
favored among them? What secret did Father share with you… before you even took your first breath? Hmm? Why… why…why?”

“Now you sound like Apollyon.” Jenevier glared straight ahead. “Perhaps you should count jealousy down as another sin you have mastered. If whining were one, you’d claim that grand prize as well.”

“But that’s the big question, isn’t it?” Shamsiel chuckled. “That’s the amazing mystery we
all
want solved… the
why
. Why did Father bless even that disgusting Prince of Hell? Hmm? Do you know? Do you know why a creature—far more evil than even words can express—was blessed because of
you
?”

“Apollyon wasn’t
blessed
because of me, you blathering idiot. I was a curse unto him from the moment he first laid eyes upon me, and I will remain his curse until the end of all things.”

“She speaks true,” Ahriman mumbled.

Shamsiel growled at the soul-eater before turning back to Jenevier.

“Think about it, Arch.” She matched his glare. “Am I not the most irritating little enigma you have ever come across? Doesn’t even the
sight
of me cause you the greatest stress? Perhaps my sole purpose in being created was simply to drive the fallen ones mad. I mean, did you
see
what shape Apollyon was in when I stepped into this forever-damned darkness? And just look at the mighty soul-eater over there.” She nodded toward Ahriman. “Did you ever think the day would come when he would be foaming at the mouth, his cold demeanor gone, groveling at your feet like a dog begging for treats? Look what I have done to him. His very existence is now plagued with constant torment.” She looked the flaming-haired Arch straight in the eyes. “And what of
you
, great Shamsiel? What have you become? The proud commander of countless legions… begging help from hell’s Sage, whining and crying saying
why, why, why
. You have fallen the farthest, Brother. Oh, if Uriel could only see you now.” She smiled sardonically. “Perhaps that’s the secret Father shared with me. Perhaps He told me to go forth and bring epic pain and torment to all who had betrayed Him. If that is my purpose for being created…” She casually shrugged her shoulders. “Then, I am happy with that destiny. It has been ever so much fun.”

Shamsiel didn’t even growl before slapping her across the face.

Jenevier immediately tore into the Arch, trying her best to scratch out his blood-colored eyes.

*****

When Ahriman managed to finally pull her off the Arch, Shamsiel was laughing. Bleeding from the corners of his mouth, yes… but laughing, all the same.

“There’s a bit of that fire, eh?” He wiped the blood from his chin, wincing when he brushed across his busted lip. “Good. It will serve you well here.”

“What are you talking about?”

Shamsiel stood up, dusting off his clothing. “What I’m talking about… is your
bite
. But you’re going to have to sharpen up your teeth a bit,
if
you plan on winning.”

“Winning?” She furrowed her brow. “Winning what?”

“Yourself,” Ahriman whispered close to her ear.

Jenevier jerked free of the soul-eater and stood toe-to-toe with Shamsiel.

“Explain yourself, Arch.”

“I thought I already had.” Shamsiel casually shrugged his shoulders. “I will win the tournament, of course.”

“Tournament?”

“Yes.” He winked at her then. “No matter who you once
were
, tiny Angel… you are no longer that creature. Your fierceness has been sorely diminished. That being said…
I
will win you and trade you to Father for Talia.”

“You are mad.” Jenevier shook her head. “Seriously, Great Grandpapa… you have gone completely around the bend.” She met his fiery, maddened gaze. “Tell me true. How is it you see this all playing out?”

Shamsiel didn’t answer.

“Let’s say your wicked plan comes to fruition,” she continued. “Let’s say that maybe—just maybe—you best me and talk Father into meeting your demands. What then?”

“What do you mean,
what then
?”

“Exactly as I said.” Jenevier smiled. “What then? What if Father really does give you Talia? Do you think she will be pleased with you?”

“Of course she will be pleased with me.” Shamsiel sort of snorted. “Talia loves me. She will be overjoyed to be wrapped within my worshipping embrace once more.”

“That’s truly what you think, isn’t it?” Jenevier half chuckled. “Yep, crazier than a cream-drunk Fairy.”

Shamsiel grabbed her shoulders and squeezed. “What are you mumbling about?”

“Think upon it, Arch,” Jenevier spat. “Talia is not in hell, is she?”

“No. Of course she isn’t.”

“Then… where is she?”

Shamsiel didn’t answer.

Jenevier jerked free of his grasp. “I can tell you from experience… the only thing worse than Sheol is hell itself. If Talia isn’t
there
, she damn sure isn’t going to be happy with you dragging her out of whatever paradise she has been living in and bringing her to
this
Godforsaken Otherworld.
You’ll
be happy, yes. But great-whatever-grandmother… not so much.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine.” Jenevier held up her hands. “Fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Grandpapa.”

“I don’t sleep,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Yeah, well that just gives you all the more time for whining.”

Ahriman grabbed her hand. “Please, Jenevier. Please don’t goad him so.”

Jenevier jerked free. “Why?” She snorted out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you are scared of this sorry excuse for a Seraph. Come on, Ahriman. What’s happened to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—where the hell is that fierce soul-eater I once knew?”

When Shamsiel chuckled, Jenevier turned to him.

“You think this is all pretty funny, huh?”

Shamsiel just shrugged his shoulders again.

“Very well, then… where do you want to fight, old man?” Jenevier glanced around. “You pick the place, and let’s get this ball rolling. I have no intention of hanging around here a moment more than is absolutely necessary.”

“As you say.” He mockingly bowed toward her, motioning with a wave of his hand. “Right this way,
Empress
.”

*****

Hell itself was outer darkness. Jenevier remembered it well. A dark so dark you could
feel
it. If she would have had to describe Sheol, it was more of an
eerie
darkness. It wasn’t light by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn’t complete darkness either.

“I wasn’t expecting to be able to see in Sheol,” she mumbled.

“It’s the witch-vines,” Ahriman said, pointing. “See there?”

Jenevier focused on the strange clump growing closest to the trail they now walked.

“Vines?” She half snorted. “Looks more like tentacles, to me. To call them vines would imply that
leaves
were involved.”

“They are only
called
witch-vines. In truth, they are roots. Not vines. But the way they twist and grow and spread… I can tell why they are named thusly.”

Ahriman tried to take her hand, but Jenevier jerked free.

“I suppose they
would
be sort of a vine,” he continued, unfazed. “
If
we were above the ground. Since we are not, they are roots.”

Jenevier glanced sideways at the soul-eater. “We are underground?”

He nodded. “Not only is Sheol a far different realm than you have ever visited before… it is subterranean as well.”

“So… you can dig your way out of Sheol,” she mused.

Ahriman furrowed his brow. “No. What in the universe would make you think that?”

“Ahriman, to say that Sheol is underground implies that there is also an
above
ground. Such being the case, one could dig their way out of here.”

“How very logical sounding, Angel.” He chuckled. “But false. You cannot dig your way out of Sheol because there is no
out
. It’s just ground. No skies. No stars. No fresh air. Just… underneath.”

When Ahriman once again tried to take her hand, Jenevier nearly punched him.

“Can you please just shut-up now, soul-eater? Oh, and quit trying to touch me. It makes me want to vomit.”

Ahriman stopped walking then, pain twisting his ridiculously handsome features.

“Why would you say such a thing as that?” he whispered softly. “Why would you joke about our love?”

“Our love?” Jenevier snorted. “There is no love between us, Angel. What we once shared was a magical lie. You know it, and I know it. To act otherwise is simply ludicrous.”

“But… on Earth you—”

“On Earth I was enamored, spellbound. As were you, Brother.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You helped me complete a summons I had lost total control over. You saved me, yes. For
that
… I am grateful.” She glanced away. “The closeness we shared during my crucible there… it caused us—caused
me
—to become lax in my purpose. Your forced absence has changed all that.”

“…The bracelet,” he mumbled to himself.

Jenevier nodded. “When you gifted me that shackle, you did more than just save me from you… you opened my eyes, Vybius. You gave me the chance to see clearly.”

His eyes brightened, hope sparking within them. “And what is it you saw, little one? In my absence, what were you able to glean?”

“Hatred… Disdain… Shame…” She met his pain-filled gaze. “I saw who you truly are, Vybius.
What
you truly are. And… what I almost sacrificed because of you, because of my weakness for you. That is one mistake that will
never
happen again.” She turned from him then. “You saved me from Valencia—meted out punishment worthy of her crimes. Gratitude, Brother. For
that
favor, for the smiles we shared, for the poetry and laughs and tenderness… I will stay my hand at killing you. For the kindness you once showed me, I will suppress my vengeance… for now.”

The soul-eater stood there, silent, as he watched her walk away. By the time she had caught up with Shamsiel, Ahriman’s bitter tears had soaked through the collar of his elegant tunic.

“Hey, Red?” Jenevier said. “What’s with all the statues?”

Shamsiel abruptly stopped, then slowly turned to face her. “What did you just call me?”

“I called you by your color. I figured
Ruby
sounded too feminine.” She motioned with a nod. “So… what’s with all the strange artwork?”

Shamsiel growled before glancing in the direction she was looking. “It isn’t
artwork
, you trifling little nuisance.”

When she giggled at his attempt to insult her, the Arch just rolled his eyes. Instead of waiting for his answer, Jenevier strolled over to the many odd statues surrounding them.

She pecked on one. “Is that… Prisalyn?” She touched another. “Granite? And… this one feels like marble.”

“That’s because it
is
marble… idiot,” Shamsiel mumbled.

She turned back to him, sent him a troubled, questioning look.

Shamsiel rolled his eyes again. “They are now what they
were
,” he said, exasperated.

She raised a single brow. “Wow… Thanks for clearing that up, Brother. You’re about as helpful as a wooden skillet.”

Ahriman silently approached her, head bowed. “They are creatures from Sheol,” he said in a low voice. “These are their remains… after the battle. What they were, they are.” He gently touched the same one she was. “This was once a Guardian.”