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Timothy trembled as I slowly shifted my attention back toward him. He pulled on his cuffs in a feeble attempt to break free and pull out of my reach. “I-I have nothing left to offer you,” he rasped.
I pressed my lips together and approached him until his aura was weighed down with fear. “Why do you bear the mark of the Nephilim on your back, mortal?”
“Why should I tell you a damn thing?” he fired back.
“Perhaps I might consider giving you a quick death if you offer up some useful information.” I started pacing in front of him, keeping my gaze locked on him every time I turned in the other direction.
It was never on the agenda to offer a prisoner hope, yet I couldn’t resist. Fear always tasted sweeter once the host realized that it was nothing more than false hope. Timothy straightened slightly as it pulsed through his veins with a comforting heat. “And my wife?”
“That depends on you.” The edges of my lips twitched. It took everything I had to suppress the smirk. Allowing it to run freely would simply prompt the human from believing the promises I offered. I wanted him where he succumbed to that intoxicating hope just because of the mere fact that it was like quicksand. Once he started tumbling down that rabbit hole, he wouldn’t escape it. “What do you have to offer me? The more you give me, the more I will consider such a mercy for both of you.”
He slumped forward with a soft whimper. “The angels started coming around more as they lost territories to you. They spoke of an impending war and they needed our help to win it. Their success would guarantee our freedom. An easier life for us.”
It took everything I had not to cave into a fit of laughter. Had the angels really won the mortals over by promises of a heaven on earth? They were the ones that had originally set up a system for the entire North American continent where only their own kind would benefit from the comforting pleasures of life. Absolutely nothing had been done to help survival become easier to bear with humanity.
Humanity was such a fragile race. It didn’t come as a surprise that they would succumb to that belief. There wasn’t a single one of them alive today that remembered how it all began: empty promises. At least my race was willing to follow through with such tempting offers. We just didn’t disclose the dire consequences that came with it.
Timothy’s eyes fluttered shut. A part of me worried that the poor bastard had fallen unconscious due to the steady blood loss. It wasn’t until he started murmuring softly that I realized he was simply trying to cling to what little strength he had left. “Marcillo started losing too many territories to you… His kind was losing hope. None of the other races were willing to take up arms to help him regain the country.”
That admission pleased me more than I was willing to admit. Most of the other royal families stood to lose everything if they took such a risk. The only one that could attempt such a bold stand and actually survive a small piece of the war were the vampires. Yet none of them were willing to accept Marcillo’s request.
I cocked my head to the side. “Just what was he offering for their loyalty?”
“T-The northern half of the country and Canada.”
Well, then. It was certainly a shit load for Marcillo to lose, but he had lost most of the country to me already. At least this offer stood to give him half of those back with the possibility of taking the other race to war later on. It was a shitty option to consider — which was what made it such a desperate move.
Nico returned, venturing into my view long enough to gesture for me to follow him off to the side again.
Clicking my tongue, it took everything I had not to shake my head and continue the interrogation until Timothy was too far gone. The weary edge in the demon lord’s eyes was enough to prompt me not to. I reluctantly followed him over to the side of the room. “Marcillo is making promises he certainly can’t keep,” I mused. “He’s become desperate.”
“Desperate enough to head straight to the same location as your sister,” Nico answered. He lifted his jaw slightly when I narrowed my eyes at him. “As well as the Nephilim.”
A surge of rage tore through my veins. “Are you suggesting that my sister chose to deceive my father in order to leave Italy…and join forces with the bastard?”
The demon lord produced his cell phone, a picture already pulled up on the screen. He didn’t speak a single word as I was forced to take in the sight of my sister falling into the arms of the Nephilim himself.
Calianna betrayed me… She betrayed us both. My upper lip curled and a snarl ripped from my lips. The sound was enough to squeeze a panicked whimper from our fragile prisoner while even Nico appeared weary of the rage swirling within me. Only a small part of me was relieved that he hadn’t handed over his phone while delivering the bad news simply because it would have ended up a ruined mess.
So this was what it had come to. The angel prince had gone rogue and sought out an alliance that neither of our races swore we’d ever allow. My sister had lost all common sense, fleeing our father to seek out attention from a dead man walking simply for what he was.
“Archer was able to backtrack the feed.” Nico kept his distance from me as I struggled to control my growing rage. “Looks like Marcillo had your stolen shipment of guns delivered to the manor. The bastard is gearing up for war.”
Doesn’t this come full circle? My upper lip curled to expose my demonic fangs.
“How do you want to handle this, boss?”
I pulled away from him with a soft snarl. As soon as my golden eyes swung his way, Timothy jerked against his chains with a fearful noise. The scent started leaking from his aura in heavy waves, yet it wasn’t enough to appease the inner beast. That part of me wanted to draw blood and I didn’t care where it came from as long as that sweet aroma clung to my skin. “Instruct Archer to take men down to New Orleans. I want eyes on that manor until we know just how much the Nephilim’s organization has grown.” I left the demon lord near the stairway before he had a chance to confirm the order.
Timothy trembled as I approached. “I have nothing left to say to you.”
“I don’t think you’ve redeemed yourself enough for a quick death, mortal,” I snarled. As soon as I drew close, I started to circle him like a predator honing in on their prey. “What does the Nephilim want with my sister?”
He paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice shook, threatening to give out.
That doesn’t sound like a man that is blissfully ignorant. Raising my hand, the air shimmered until a small dagger solidified and nestled against my palm. I didn’t give Timothy much of a chance to process that I had summoned my own little personal weapon before I flicked it around to close my fingers around the handle. An enraged snarl escaped from my lips as I lunged forward, thrusting the blade into his chest.
I was extremely careful to avoid any immediate, vital organs. A quick death was no longer on the plate now that he wanted to play ignorance. While a pained cry was squeezed from his lips, I dragged the blade down. I could feel it scraping up against his sternum. Once I reached the bottom, there was absolutely no resistance left. My weapon sliced through his skin like butter.
