“Lucifer.” I mutter to myself. “You have five seconds to explain why the fuck you thought summoning me was a good idea.” I growl.
The sparkly one, Ezra, screams like a banshee. “FUCK?—”
My head whips towards him, watching as he throws something at me. It splashes across my chest—cold, odd smelling. Did he just throw fucking Holy Water at me? I just stand there, dripping. It steams against my skin but doesn’t burn. I stare down at him, a sneer pulling across my mouth.
“I will not snap your neck for that,” I say coldly. “Only because she cares about you. However…”
I take a step forward, out of the circle I know damn well they thought would hold me in place, and back Ezra against the wall.
“If you ever try that again, I will peel you open slowly.”
“Ezra!” The girl snaps. Talia, I think. She throws herself in between me and the sparkly male, like she could actually stop me from killing him. Bold.
“Where the fuck is she?” She demands.
I roll my eyes. “You summoned me because you thought I took her?” I take a step back so I don’t kill them both.
“She told us!” Talia barks. “She told us about you! About the card, about Hell, and Ethan. She told us what you did to him.”
“She told you?” I laugh, dry and bitter. “Of course she did.”
Ezra swallows hard. “We didn’t know what else to do.”
“Apparently summoning a fucking demon was your best plan?” I sneer, pacing the edges of the circle. “Well done. You nearly summoned Lucifer with this garbage. That would’ve gone great for both of you.”
I pace the small room, looking back down at the methods to summon me. Smart, I’ll give them that. They used nearly all of my calling methods. I quirk my lip up at the corner slightly, noticing that one of them even had the balls to use a little blood.
“So, is she with you?” Ezra asks, voice cracking.
I turn to them, annoyed by the panic, the mortal emotion seeping out of their every word. I forget how fragile they are
“She’s in Hell,” I say flatly.
They both gasp, and Ezra throws a dramatic hand over his mouth before flopping himself into Talia’s arms as she scowls at me.
I roll my eyes, “Not that part of Hell, you morons. She’s in Zeriavoss. Alive, and being taken care of.”
They go deathly quiet, Talia going pale despite her tanned skin.
“I found her overdosed in her fucking shower. She nearly died. She’s in a coma now, by my order, but she’s not out of the woods yet. And I suggest if you truly care for her, you won’t summon me again. I won’t be as forgiving next time.”
They’re both crying, but I don’t care. They mean nothing to me. The only reason they’re still breathing is because of the girl lying in my kingdom, soul tethered by the thinnest thread.
Another summons tingles down my spine, and I resist the urge to groan. This is one I cannot ignore.
I disappearthrough the veil without another word, materialising in front of the most insufferable beings this universe has ever vomited into existence. The Divine Six. Of fucking course. Because apparently my day wasn’t going bad enough already.
They’re already seated in their favourite little theatrical arrangement on pedestals carved from glowing marble, sitting in the shape of a crescent moon. It’s a shrine to their own egos, six thrones of divine arrogance. And true to form, none of them even bothers to greet me. How charming.
“You’ve brought a mortal into Hell. Again.” Seraphiel begins, her voice cutting through the atmosphere.
There she is. Kicking off the sanctimonious parade as per usual.
“She needed help.” I bite back, folding my arms.
“You are meddling where you should not.” Amarithe adds, her lips pursed into something between a pout and a smirk. Her head tilts just enough to flash the soft gold of her circlet. What useless ornamentation for someone who hasn’t lifted a finger in a few thousand years.
Velentha lifts her head, the time runes on her arms glowing faintly, pulsing like veins of prophecy. “You do not own her soul, Korithax.”
