this? And I can handle this on my own. Just tell me where the succubi temple is. I’ll ride Capheira up there myself.”
Belial helped lace me into the shirt, keeping it a little loose around the edges of my wing. He adjusted my bandaging as well, ensuring the limb would stay neatly folded in place.
“You’ll ride up through the main thoroughfare,” he said, twisting my hair up and pinning it into place with a silver hair stick that would double as a weapon in an emergency. “When you reach Lust, go left. Ride past Asmodeus’s little playground and continue on until you reach a fountain. You’ll know which one, trust me. The temple’s entrance is in front of it- and if you come across Asmodeus and he gives you trouble, stick him with this.”
He turned me around and pressed his ebonite dagger into my hand. The matte black metal was warm against my palm, the weight reassuring.
Holding the dagger brought back a powerful memory of burying it in Yraceli’s flesh, the heart-pounding terror of believing I was done for. The gut-wrenching disappointment of realizing what I’d done to Belial.
“You know where to stab him first. Aim low.” Belial kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, and finally my mouth. “I’d come with you, but…”
I kissed him back and pulled my demon-hide pants on. “No, go take care of our Circle. I think the succubi might be more likely to invite a woman in by herself, anyways.”
I strapped a thigh sheath on and slipped the ebonite dagger inside it, then slid my silver claws on over my fingertips. A pang of sadness went through me when I flexed my hand, making the silver points gleam the way Vyra’s did, but I was doing something tangible now, finally moving forward.
The Chainlings informed us that Tascius was on duty guarding Michael, and Azazel had been called away by Pytho, who was irritated over the continued presence of the Grigori Reapers in his Circle. I gave the Chainlings messages to pass on to them before walking out to the stables with Belial.
Capheira was flank-deep in the pond, her mouth stuffed with lily pads. As soon as she saw Belial approaching, she climbed out, shedding water by the bucketful and flicking her tail.
He stroked her nose and fed her an apple he’d taken from the arena, telling her she was a beautiful, good horse. The lightning flickering inside my mount intensified in brightness and speed, her smugness clearly showing as Belial crooned to her.
She was perfectly happy to let him saddle her. Belial lifted me onto her back, leading her to the front of the arena and out into the street. The click of Capheira’s hooves was muffled by all the ash and dust piled on the obsidian road.
“Take care of my princesses, you brilliant beauty,” he told her, and Capheira tossed her head, nibbling his shirt.
“You’re going to make Arcturus jealous,” I said with a laugh.
“I’d tell you to be careful, but what I really mean is to make sure you’re the last one standing if anything happens.” Belial ran his fingers down my thigh and rested his hand on my knee. “You’ll be safe with the succubi. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, and Belial backed away. Within seconds he was shifting into a golden lion, his flaming tail whipping behind him as he headed towards the ruins of the Brightside.
I nudged Capheira into a walk, guiding her towards the main thoroughfare that led upwards. “Come on, pretty girl.”
It wasn’t a smooth ride by any stretch of the imagination. Buildings that had cracked and toppled had fallen into the streets, creating massive mounds of rubble that Capheira needed to navigate through. The gentle wind of the Nightside had blown the ash against fences and foundations that looked like drifts of gray, dirty snow. The smell of flowers was long gone, replaced with the acrid stench of burning.
My chest tightened at the sight of all the damage, but even more surprising was the number of demons who seemed absolutely thrilled with the destruction.
They danced in the streets, some painted in bright carnival-like colors, even as they hauled rubble away.
One of them was jumping on the plinth of a fallen statue. “The King is dead! The King has fallen! Fuck the Dragon!” he screamed.
In the Sixth Circle, they’d made an effigy. A scarecrow dressed in a black suit and stovepipe hat was hauled up and tied to a pyre. They danced around