Cipher (Demonica Underworld #8) - Larissa Ione Page 0,37

didn’t like to go there either.

“I don’t want to know.” Hawkyn gestured to the demon. “Shouldn’t you be torturing that guy anyway?”

“I didn’t think this was your kind of thing.” Not all of Azagoth’s offspring had inherited his special interests. Maddox and Emerico showed promise, though.

Hawkyn’s expression turned dark. “The bastard tried to kill one of my sisters. The sooner we know who he works for, the sooner we can destroy them.”

Azagoth nodded in approval. Maddox had said something similar when he’d asked to stay for the Croucher’s interrogation. He’d been disappointed when Mad was called away to watch over one of his Primori.

He turned back to the demon. “So,” he said, as he watched his hands form the claws that were going to do the ripping he’d promised, “are you still insisting that you and your demon buddies just happened to stumble upon my daughter while you were innocently roaming the streets after a night of terrorizing humans? That you didn’t know I was Gretchen’s father?”

Azagoth had never met Gretchen, one of his young children who had been raised in the human realm, but she was safe in Sheoul-gra now, and once she was settled in and had gotten over the shock she’d been through, he’d introduce himself.

Fear flickered in the demon’s eyes as Azagoth dragged one sharp claw down his skeletal chest.

Lower, and the demon began to tremble. Lower, and he swallowed hard, the veins in his scrawny throat bulging.

Lower.

“Okay, okay,” the demon blurted, his eyes wild now.

Azagoth dug his claw into the soft abdominal skin. “Okay...what?”

“W-we were sent to kill her,” he said in a rush, and now they were finally getting somewhere. “But we didn’t know she was your daughter! I swear!”

That was most likely true. It would be stupid to tell underlings too much, especially if the information might make them balk at following an order.

“I believe you,” Azagoth said in a pleasant, calm voice. He even paused his finger, letting the demon relax for a moment. Letting him feel hope.

Hope was for fucking morons. This creature was going to die a terrible, painful death, no matter what.

Obviously.

“How unlucky for you that Memitim are rounding up all of my children in the human realm, and Gretchen was next in line.” They’d gotten to her just in time. Five minutes later, and her body would probably have been found partially eaten and dumped in a German forest or field. “But you can change your luck.” He leaned in, baring his fangs as he lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Tell me who sent you to kill my daughter.”

Silence hung in the air, and for a long moment, Azagoth thought the demon would refuse. But just as he began to drop his hand to start squeezing things until they popped, the Croucher let out a resigned groan.

“Bael,” he rasped. “The fallen angels Bael and his brother, Moloc.”

Azagoth went taut. The names weren’t surprising; Moloc and Bael had been testing Azagoth’s patience for centuries in their quest to find ways to keep souls that rightfully belonged to him. But that wasn’t what made anger singe the edges of Azagoth’s patience as he turned to Hawkyn.

“Bael,” he snarled. “The bastard who took Cipher.”

“Then this is all connected,” Hawkyn said, but he was missing the real link.

Azagoth laid it out, crystal fucking clear. “Cipher has access to the locations of all my human-realm children.”

Hawkyn’s emerald eyes—Azagoth’s eyes—shot wide as the implication sank in. “No way.” He shook his head. “No damned way. Cipher wouldn’t have given Bael anything.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. I know it,” Hawk insisted. “He would never betray us. He’d never betray you.”

Hawkyn was so convinced of his friend’s innocence. Azagoth wished he could be as sure. Or even a little sure. Cipher had been an asset, and he’d been loyal. But in Azagoth’s thousands of years of life, he’d seen loyal people turn. Everyone had a price...or a breaking point.

Someone banged on the door. “Hawkyn! Father!”

The urgency in Journey’s voice raised the hair on the back of Azagoth’s neck. With a mental flick of his mind, the heavy office door swung open.

“What is it?” he asked as Journey rushed inside.

“It’s Amelia,” Journey breathed.

“Who?”

“Amelia,” Hawkyn repeated miserably. “Dammit.”

“She is—was—one of your...ah...fuck.” Journey dropped his gaze to the floor and Azagoth’s gut went with it. He knew where this was going. “She was a sister in the human realm. I was with Jasmine. We went to get her. She...she was the last one on the list. She’s dead.”

Sudden rage