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The chaos of the fire painted the courtyard in a hellish palette, all shadow and red light. The flowers and bushes planted next to the building blackened as flames licked the windows and doors and wherever else the gasoline had splashed. Shax sensed the duke before she spoke, a presence larger than her current form suggested. Aeshma slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze as though they were innocent lovers at a beach bonfire.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, breathless.
“Yes,” he lied. “We should leave. Someone will call the fire department.”
Aeshma sighed dramatically. “I suppose. I was hoping for a houseful of crispy angels. You don’t think any died, do you?”
She looked up at him, and he saw the flames reflected in her eyes, like twin sparks of hope. Shax lifted his shoulders.
“I don’t think so. Charun gave up the game too early.”
Aeshma pouted, a pretty little moue of her lips belying the viciousness behind her sweet, harmless facade. “I must have a discussion with the little shit-weasel. She cost us our victory today.”
Shax sent a prayer of thanks out into the universe. Flinging a well-timed pebble, he had started a fight between two lesser demons. Leaving Orax and Aeshma to deal with the blood lust, he made a show of checking on the preparations around the angels’ dormitory. He slipped off in the confusion and took off to warn Kheone. Gone five minutes, tops, Shax had made a show of coming around the far side of the building, giving him an excuse for being out of sight. So far, no one had called bullshit.
Watching the angels’ home go up in a conflagration Lucifer himself would appreciate, he gave thanks to the shit-weasel’s poor timing. He would be having that discussion with Aeshma if Charun had been any smarter.
A flash of red light caught his attention. Kheone ran out of the rift and straight to the fight. She glanced back, and their eyes locked for an instant. The heat of their kiss rose in him again, rivaling the fire consuming her home. She made her choice and turned toward her gathering. Deprived of her life-giving attention, he reluctantly forced his own back to the immediate problem.
“Shall we, Your Grace?” He tugged gently on Aeshma’s hand, their fingers still interlaced, leading her away from the flaming building.
“You are dismissed,” the duke called out to the horde. “Shoo!”
A few started passing along the word. The sirens from the fire trucks in the distance hurried the process along. Shax led Aeshma to the idling car where Peth waited.
“Back to the hotel, please,” Shax said as they slipped in.
Peth glanced at Aeshma and did not drive off until she nodded her assent. Okay. He was still being tested. A few minutes later, Peth dropped them off at the hotel entrance. Shax opened doors and pushed buttons for Aeshma, waiting for the other shoe to drop. If saving Kheone’s life cost his own, he would count it a fair trade.
As soon as the door to her suite closed behind them, the duke pressed herself into his body, snaking her sharp-nailed fingers under his shirt. When he thought he would be fucked after this little raid, he did not think it would be so literal. Dread filled him. He couldn’t refuse Aeshma now, not without repercussions. So, the question wasn’t whether he would face the music but which music he chose to face. Sleep with the Duke of Lust or deal with whatever retribution she felt appropriate for refusing?
Aeshma bit her lower lip and smiled up at him.
“I must admit, pet, tonight turned out to be completely different from I’d expected.”
“What did you expect, Aeshma?”
“I expected you to run to your precious Kheone and warn her. I expected to never see you again. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw you hadn’t left. “
Heart racing, he answered in a voice as calm as a placid pond. “She means nothing to me.” The worst lie he had ever told.
“I’d like to reward you for your loyalty tonight, Shax.” She licked her lips.
Once, that would have been enough. Once, he would have done anything for a break from the agony of Hell, the agony that kept him company every hour of every day. Sex had been his favorite remedy. Since the Second Fall, though, he had enjoyed the more subtle aspects of desire. A pair of beautiful eyes, the curve of a hip under his hand, a lovely laugh, sometimes even a kind gesture. Only now did he realize all those things reminded him of a specific being, and she was not the one standing in front of him.
Aeshma pulled him over to the couch by the waistband of his jeans. His rational mind screamed this was a horrible idea but could not come up with an alternate plan.
Hammering at the door saved him from making a decision.
“Christ on the cross.” Aeshma let him go and looked angry enough to spit venom. “Go get the fucking door.”
Shax did not envy whoever had interrupted their interlude. Orax greeted him when he yanked the door open, the demon Charun slung over a shoulder, bound hand and foot. Shax stepped out of his way, and Orax strode in, followed closely by Peth. Still no sign of Asag. What errand had Aeshma sent her on?
“Where do you want her, Duke Aeshma?” Orax asked.
“I don’t want her,” Aeshma said, pouting once again.
Orax turned on his heel and moved as if he would take Charun somewhere else.
“Ugh. Fine. Put her in the bedroom, then summon Irena. Peth, I require your services. Fetch your kit.”
A light sparked in Peth’s eyes, and a cruel smile split his face. He disappeared into the adjoining room. This was about to get ugly. Perhaps now would be a good time for Shax to excuse himself.
“Your Grace, I should leave you to your business. Come find me when you’re done, and we can pick up where we left off.” With any luck, he could come up with a third option, one better than the two he had right now. He bowed low before taking a step toward the exit.
“Oh, no, Shaxie, you’re not leaving yet.” She grabbed his arm, digging in her sharp fingernails. “I make it a point to show the newest member of my horde what happens when you disregard my orders. Charun knew stealth was important tonight. Instead, we got one burned building and zero dead angels. You can go when I have made my point.”
Well, balls.
“Of course, Your Grace.” It was the only thing he could say.
Aeshma pulled him into the bedroom. Charun lay in a heap on the four-poster bed as Orax removed her bindings. Her left eye was swollen shut, and blood leaked from her nose and mouth, staining the white bedding with black droplets. Her chest heaved, but she made no other movement, not even when freed from her bonds. She had given up and accepted her fate. Her death would be long, bloody, and painful.
“Stand there, Shax,” the Duke ordered, letting him go and pointing at a chair in the corner.
He took his place next to the chair, assuming Aeshma would sit there through the torture. Mostly for the view, but directing it as needed. For now, the duke stood next to Charun and stroked her cheek.
Irena entered, a brisk, no-nonsense rhythm to her stride, carrying something resembling a toolbox.
“What do you require, Your Grace?” she asked, keeping her gaze purposefully glued to the duke.
Shax did not blame her. He wished he did not have to watch what was going to happen to Charun, either.
“This room needs to be soundproof.”
With a sharp nod, Irena got to work. Opening her box, she pulled out salt, a jar, some herbs, and a weird-looking silver ball, punctured with holes and mounted on a stick. The sorceress thrust the jar at Shax.
“Go fill this with warm water. Leave some room for the other ingredients.”
He glanced at Aeshma, who was whispering to the demon on her bed, too softly for Shax to hear. The duke paid no attention to anything else. He took the jar and did as he was told. Irena took the jar from him, added salt and herbs, and screwed on the lid.
Peth walked in, carrying a folded plastic tarp, a length of rope, and a long piece of leather rolled up and tied with a string.
“Tie the little shit to the frame, Orax,” he said, tossing the rope to the bodyguard.
Orax looked to Aeshma for confirmation. She nodded and stroked Charun’s cheek once more.
“I’ll enjoy the show, Charun. Know in your last moments that you will bring your duke such pleasure.” She rose and walked over to Shax. “Watch and learn, Shaxie. Should you ever disappoint me, this could be your fate, too.”
“I understand, Your Grace.”
Aeshma made herself comfortable on the chair.
“Go fetch me a drink.”
Shax left as Irena bent down to talk to the duke, and Orax bound Charun to the bed. The shakes started as soon as he closed the door. He took a ragged breath as he walked to the bar cart. Leaning on it, he cleared his head and stopped the shaking with a few more deep breaths.
Christ, he had forgotten the viciousness of demons in the past year. He was a chucklehead to throw his lot in with Aeshma, even if only temporarily. He should have run when he had the chance. Except...No, he could not think of Kheone right now.
He poured the duke’s whiskey. His hand shook, scattering a few drops. Shax steeled himself, knowing he was going into the room to watch someone die, in the slowest, most humiliating way possible, as a message to him and all the other demons in the horde. And he had to do it or risk being the next lesson.
Shax walked into the room and handed the drink to Aeshma. Irena sprinkled water from the jar around as she chanted in a language it took him a while to place. It might be Old German or something else from before the printing press but after the fall of Rome. Pressure built in the room, making him feel as though someone stuffed cotton in his ears. Irena clapped once, and the pressure lifted. She packed away her supplies.
“As long as the door is closed, no sound will escape this room,” she said. “The spell will last four or five hours. Call me when it wears off.”
Aeshma glowered at the sorceress. “Can’t you do any better?”
“Not with the materials on hand, Your Grace. Should you care to wait until morning, I can shop for ingredients to make a longer-lasting spell.”
“I guess it will have to do.”
Dismissed, the sorceress bowed and left the room. Shax doubted the duke had noticed. Aeshma’s focus was now entirely on Charun and Peth. Now bound to the bed frame, the smaller demon’s body was pulled so taut she stood on tiptoes. Peth undid his knife roll and pulled out a scalpel and a sharpening stone. The metallic scritch-scratch filled the room as he dragged the blade against the stone.
“Get on with it, Peth,” Aeshma commanded, licking her lips in anticipation.
“Yes, Your Grace.” The toothy smile Peth shared with her sent chills down Shax’s spine. This was Peth’s happy place.
The demon no one ever noticed until too late sliced the scalpel down Charun’s back. Her scream filled Shax’s ears, and bile rose in his throat. With a swallow, he suppressed the urge to vomit. If he showed any weakness today, he would be next, sure as Lucifer’s wrath.