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“Fucking Bitch,” he heaved, bending over his knees in the middle of his home library. Having no time to waste, Yuval had created his own portal back home. He hated portals, not because like some he distrusted reaching the other end in one piece – no, he had more confidence in his own abilities than this – but rather because they always, without a fault, made him sick. He had no time right now to be sick.
Now where had he left the tomes? Waving a hand carelessly towards his library, he sent books flying in all directions. He’d been about to sell those tomes, but he’d hold back since the summoning spells within them were most interesting. He’d wanted to go through them in more detail, and so, they were still there... somewhere.
Straightening, he turned around in time to get hit straight in the face by one of the heavy tomes. He cried in surprise at the pain, falling back. He dodged another tome by an inch.
Well... at least he’d found them.
***
Amath blinked his eyes, vision blurred. He was laying down in a soft surface. When he tried to get up, he couldn’t move. He felt weak. Invisible bindings held his arms spread wide. He heard the soft falling of some thick substance, drop by drop. Tilting his head, he saw the source of his weakness, and of the sound. One of his wrists, hanging just over the bed, had been slit. Blood dripped from it, draining his life, drop by drop.
Sabel was sitting there, watching him, still in that hideous yellow dress.
“Good morning,” she called, bright red lips spreading to a smirk. “There is one of two outcomes to this situation, as you can imagine. One, your master doesn’t make it here in time, in which case you will run out of blood, and die. Not even demons like you are immune to this.”
“What’s two?” Amath gasped when she did not continue.
“Two, your master brings me back my books. I let you go, if you’re still alive that is, and keep your blood. There are all sort of useful things I could do with it, do you know?”
Amath bared his teeth and growled, it was too weak to sound threatening at all. He closed his eyes again, slowed his breath.
“Hey,” She called, frowning. “Surely you’re stronger than this?”
Amath’s breath slowed further.
Now she started to worry. “Surely... ”
He heard her dress shuffle. She was standing.
“Surely.”
Step by step, she came closer. Just a little more. She leaned in, closer, closer... Amath’s hands fisted and he surged up against the bindings. He gnawed at her neck. She cried in surprise. Her mistake was pulling back when part of her neck had still been between his teeth. With her ebbing life the binds weakened. Amath lunged to finish the job.
***
One could not open a portal to an unknown place, so Yuval had opened it to the nearest spot, and ran the way to her rented home. He arrived around noon. He didn’t knock, he felt the link strongly here, and through it, because he was focusing on it, felt the anger and distress his lover felt...
“Sabel!!” he called, bag heavy as he ran up the stairs. “Amath!!”
He reached the top of the stairs just as Amath stumbled out on the threshold of the room. Yuval panicked – his loved was covered in blood. He ran to him. “Amath!”
“Don’t go in,” he gasped, and collapsed on Yuval, who barely managed to catch him without falling himself. From over his lover’s shoulder he saw blood, and a woman’s foot. He needed to see no more. Rearranging the unconscious demon in his arms and casting a general healing spell over him, he opened another portal, not back home, but rather to the duke’s home. They startled a maid as they stepped through. She ran screaming.
The duke came with two of his personal guards at once, but at the sight of them stopped the guards from attacking.
“I need your help,” Yuval gasped.
The duke motioned the guards to the demon. “Take him up to a room; have the healer called in immediately.”
The guards obeyed without complaint. They took the inert form from him and quickly took him away.
“What have you done now, old friend?”
Yuval raised a finger, doubled over and retched.
“Do try not to vomit all over my Rodhian rug,” Vikar said, moving to help Yuval to the nearest seat, then pouring him a drink.
Yuval downed it in one go. He sighed, and then began explaining – about Sabel, about taking her books, about her taking Amath from him. “I think,” he said, still queasy from the portal, “She’s dead.”
Vikar listened to this in silence. He sighed once the story was done, shaking his head, pouring himself a drink to down as well.
“The troubles you bring to my door, friend, are endless. Sabel Mattis, hm? She enjoyed plenty of privileges. Id’ been about to call on her, but she has never quite managed to summon more than lesser demons, from what I hear... ” He looked back at him and shook his head. “You realize... this is going to be quite troublesome to make disappear. One would say it’d require nothing short of a magic trick.”
Yuval glared. “Are you going to help us or not?”
Vikar thought about it, bowed his head in agreement. “Our deal stands. I suppose if I don’t make this go away too, then I can’t make you fulfill your part.” He set his glass down and headed back to the door. “Go see to your companion, and do try not to cause more troubles along the way.”
