“I can’t,” I tell him with irritation. “The fucker never does what I want it to, that’s why it’s in time-out in the first place! It Thors out on me and almost gets me taken out by the Devil himself for no reason, but then it doesn’t heed any of the other times I try to work with it. So it can just sit and think about that for a while,” I finish with a stern tone.
Suddenly, the light in the atrium appears to dim, and a wave of trepidation washes over me. I look to the guys to see what’s going on, but Tazreel’s murderous gaze pulls all of my focus. He steps toward me, violence in his eyes, and I swear to fuck, I see lightning crash across his features and feel the answering thunder in my chest.
“You dare to treat the gifts of Hell so callously?” he asks me, his tone all the more terrifying due to the killer calm I can hear in it.
The guys all go stiff, anger crawling into their eyes at the threatening stance Tazreel is coming at me with. They move to close in around me, but I hold up a hand to stop them. Tazreel isn’t just a Nihil, he’s a major sin, Abdicated inner circle, Pride prickhead. I have no idea what kind of damage he can do to them. He steps even closer to me, invading my space as his enraged menace looms over me like storm clouds. Fear floods my veins, quickly followed by anger.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
In a blink, warmth prickles my fisted palm, and then I’m suddenly holding the Hell weapon that set off this whole tantrum that Tazreel is having.
Immediately, the thunderous darkness recedes, and Tazreel’s face lights up. “Ha!” he declares with wide-eyed excitement, elation washing through his features. Confusion whiplashes through me as his rage disappears as quickly as it came.
What the hell just happened?
At my incredulous look, he shrugs, lifting a blond wing. “I figured it must have been some instinctive protective reaction that called the scythe to you during the dinner party when you felt backed into a corner, so I figured I’d try this,” he tells me, like threatening me was a perfectly reasonable idea. “Perhaps any kind of intense emotion will work. We will have to test that out,” Tazreel observes, gesturing to the guys as he says we, as though they’re in on the plan.
“What were you feeling the exact moment the scythe appeared?” Taz asks, like a scientist collecting data at the end of an experiment.
“Um, I was concerned that you were a fucking psycho, flipping your switch that fast,” I tell him with intense side-eye. “I was also pissed and pretty fucking terrified,” I confess, quickly catching on to what Tazreel was trying to accomplish with the show he put on.
My mind knows now that it was all a test, but my body is still shaken up. I try to cover up my racing heart as I set the straight bladed end of the scythe on the ground and look it over like a puzzle I’m trying to find all the pieces to.
“There, now we know,” Taz states pompously. “You’re welcome. I’ve solved that problem for you.” He turns to the guys. “Next time she needs her scythe and she can’t get it to come to her, just threaten her life.”
Iceman and Crux look at him like he’s lost his mind, but Jerif and Echo seem oddly up to the task. That should scare me, but instead, I’m intrigued.
“Now,” Taz says, clapping his hands together once. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
I run a hand down my face and look over to Iceman. “Can I have more demon spirits?” I ask, because Taz is much harder to deal with while I’m sober.
Iceman’s deep blue lips kick up. “No.”
I let out a sigh of disappointment before turning back to Taz. “Okay, so explain why you needed the scythe.”
Taz digs into his pocket and pulls out a small glass vial filled with a thick red liquid. “I procured this from the hump of a Vual demon,” he says proudly, like this was a great feat. “From Luce’s reaction, I know that your scythe has to be a family heirloom, connected to your maternal bloodline. It’s the key to it all,” he tells me as he pops off the cork of the bottle.
I pick up my scythe, eyeing the bottled liquid warily.