“I’d so hoped that the compulsion would work and that you’d scythe a few of the Sins for me and weaken Lucifer, but no matter. Everything went according to plan,” he says with a grin.
My mind whirls, while Delta pales next to me. “You never needed us to kill the Sins,” she says, her voice hollow with understanding.
“You just needed one of them to call Lucifer for you,” I finish, hoping my anger will burn away the defeat that’s taking root in my soul. Will we ever get the upper hand with this monster? Is there really any way to escape him?
The Ophidian grins, his snakes snapping at me. “Now that’s just adorable,” he coos as his eyes rake over me, his tone dripping with condescension. “You really thought you were going to win, didn’t you, Sable? You thought I actually believed your submission.” He adds a chuckle, punctuating the statement and making humiliation flood me.
My teeth clench as his laughter fills the air. I thought we had a chance, but he’s been playing with us the whole time. And now here we are, back in his clutches, the Devil helpless on his knees and all illusions shattered.
“It would have made things so much easier if you and your sisters had just listened,” he tells me evenly, like some disappointed authority figure who’s gently trying to get some disaffected youth to see the error of their ways. “I’ll have to make sure our progeny know how to obey.”
“We’ll fucking kill you before your dick can even leave your pants,” Delta snaps.
The Ophidian laughs. “We’re going to have such fun together, my little Annuli. I can’t wait to hear you scream as I show you just how wrong you are, but there will be time later for that. For now, I believe you have a sister missing.”
I suck in a breath at his words, and Morax looks over to some of the gathered demons surrounding us. With a nod, I watch as they part, and then several figures come filing through in a line.
“Oh my God…” Delta’s voice is garbled with pain as her hand covers her mouth.
Medley leads the line, and behind her are six demons, each more different than the last. All of them stop and turn, their line perfect, each of them staring straight ahead.
My stomach tightens as a sob escapes Delta’s covered mouth. I’d know that dead-eyed look anywhere. Each of them is drowning in Morax’s compulsion, Medley included.
With that realization, the last of my hope flutters away like a moth in the night in search of a better light. I’ve never met them, but it’s clear through Delta’s reaction and what I recognize from Medley’s stories, that Morax has Delta’s and Medley’s mates.
“No, no, no,” Delta chants beside me, and I go down the line, picking each of them out, matching their features with the names Medley told me.
Lavender skin and watercolor tattoos is Alder. The one next to him with black hair and marble skin is Flint. Beside him is the first of Delta’s mates; he has black skin and fire hair, formidable even while he looks on dully. Jerif.
The next one in line is a demon that looks nearly human, no wings or horns or supernatural skin tone, just a tan body and blond hair, and I know that one is Crux. Beside him is Echo, the pale demon with pitch black markings on his exposed arms that I know are shadows that move. The last one in line is a demon with blue skin and horns—Rafferty.
“Iceman,” Delta calls, but the blue demon doesn’t answer. “Jerif?” Nothing. “Echo! Crux! You guys, fucking snap out of it!” she shouts, but they don’t react. They don’t even look at her, and I can feel through our bond that it kills her.
Morax watches us, enjoying the shock and pain as we take it all in. “You weren’t very careful at the party, girls,” he says with patronizing disdain. “And you weren’t the only one with eyes up on that balcony.”
My head spins as I run through everything that happened tonight, trying to piece together what I missed. I jump from memory to memory, needing to know where it all went so wrong. Were we really doomed from the start, or could we have done something differently? For some reason, my mind goes to the bored Abdicated that was playing with his jeweled goblet, and realization prickles through me.
“The Abdicated holding the goblet,” I whisper to myself, my