Page 4 of Dormeo
“And that’s exactly why this is so very important.” He glares at me, fire dancing in his eyes.
That’s all the latitude I get for being his firstborn.
He has a plan. One that is not to be revealed to me or questioned in any way.
Got it.
“We will make sure that nobody else gets near the woman during her brief stay here while giving Lord Farly the necessary means to repay his gambling debts and keep his house and title. And in return, Lord Farly here is going to get us the very thing we need to keepeveryonehappy. It’s win-win.”
Swallowing hard, I look at Farly, who at least has the good graces to seem ashamed.
“Two weeks, Farly. Or we’ll keep her instead, along with your property and lands. And your wife will hear about what you have done.”
So, it’s not his wife then that he’s offered up, it’s his child.
Even worse.
Lord Farly lifts his head to answer back, rage making his pudgy face bright red, but before he can utter a word, my father sends him back to wherever he came from in a small burst of light with a mere flick of his wrist.
With a weary sigh, I don’t even attempt to find out what my father has up his sleeve.
“Where do I pick up this collateral?” I ask, knowing this is going to be a painful two weeks, but I can deal with anything, if it means quelling the war brewing on our doorstep.
Demons need to be united, not at each other's throats. At least, not when the other supernaturals are ganging up on us, ready to overthrow us from our seats here as guardians of the separate realms.
My father’s humanoid form disappears, and a cruel smirk creeps across his face.
He loves this part. Destroying some unfortunate person’s world by telling them someone they hold dear has betrayed them and sent them here to fend for themselves. When I take his place, I wonder if I’ll relish these moments as much as he does. I doubt it, but maybe that’s what spending this long at the helm, dealing with the worst of the worst, does to you.
“No need to go on a retrieval mission.” My father waves away my questions. “She’s already waiting for you in your quarters.”
2
ASH
There’s a thrum of excitement flowing through the corridors as I stalk back toward my room.
The gates of hell operate like a hive, this giant building is a warren of corridors and dark corners, filled with the minions of my father, whooperate on a hierarchy ranging from royalty, like me, at the top, then the upper-level demons, all the way down to the most primitive beasts who we use to torture those that deserve it.
And like any tight knit community, living in close quarters, it’s impossible to keep anything secret.
Voices whisper from the hidden shadows of our huge castle. It’s half cut into the side of the cliff face, shaped from dense rock, roughly hewn rooms providing shelter for all those who protect the gate itself. The other half was built on top, in the same black rock, but with some light allowed to filter through. It’s a fortress, built to protect the lowest level where only a few are allowed to go.
Me, my father, and his most trusted enforcers.
As I stride through the dim hallways, I hear murmurs of interest and curse. I knew it was too much to hope that thiswould be kept quiet. Demons care about only three things: food, fighting, and fucking, all at the same time, preferably, but tonight, there’s a buzz in the air.
For once, I pray it’s another battle with the supernaturals from the human realm who resent our punishment of their indiscretions, or perhaps a succubus, teasing the male demons who outnumber the women here, almost ten to one. They always cause a fuss.
Yet, this feels different. I know exactly what this is about. The hair stands up along my neck, and my senses go on high alert as I stride through the palace that should become mine to rule one day.
Finally reaching the long hallway to my room, I’m irritated to see three lesser demons milling about near the entrance, confirming my suspicions. They might pretend they’re waiting for me to return, with a list of problems to resolve for them, but I know what’s really drawn them here.
Her.
The only being I’m happy to see is Barghest, the hellhound who ‘happily’ stalks the darkest corners of hell and takes absolutely no shit. Everyone knows better than to piss him off. He sits on his haunches, guarding my door, red and yellow flames licking over his chest coat. And with the eerie shadows they cast across the stone floor, everyone stays back.
“Gentleman, what has you loitering outside my quarters at this ungodly hour?”
