I hope I get to see her again.
Movement No. 2
Yasmeena
One Haeresis Plaza,reads the sign out front as we make our way inside the looming skyscraper. It’s been two years since I became a spy for The Devil himself, but it still feels wrong waltzing in here like I own the place. Draven, Gemma, and Absinthe don’t seem to mind in the slightest, but Reina is acting distant, like the thoughts I have are plaguing her as well.
“Wel… come, Devil’s Masquerade. Luc… is… waiting for you… second floor, conference room,” the little demon at the front desk says, still as old as a pre-Convergence fossil. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s ready to kick the bucket.
“Thank you, Baph.” Draven takes her wrinkled, crimson hand and brings it to his mouth, planting a kiss.
We continue down to the shiny silver elevator doors and corral inside. There’s orchestral music playing through the speakers, string instruments singing softly, and Draven and Gemma hum along as if there are lyrics. They know every hit of a cymbal, every tremolo of the cello. The rest of us are silent until we’re out of the elevator and in front of the conference room.
“Do you think he’s mad at us?” Reina asks, a little more fear than I’d like lacing her tone.
Gemma shrugs her thin, very-human shoulders, which is not in the least bit reassuring.
Absinthe, still donning a clown suit, pats me on the back. “Nah.”
“Frankly, I don’t give a damn. Luc has had us all working double time to keep up with The Legion’s movements as of late,” Draven says, and he’s not wrong, but I hope the King of Hel didn’t hear it.
The door swings open to reveal our king, clad in a black fitted suit, sitting with his patent leather shoes on the large round table. Even seated, you can tell just how tall and lean he is.
“Are you complaining about having to doyour job?” Luc asks Draven, who squints in return.
The five of us walk into the room and take a knee.
“Our Infernal King,” we say in unison, though Draven’s is hardly a mumble.
Grabbing our chairs, Draven and Gemma—the leaders of The Devil’s Masquerade—sit closest to Luc. Absinthe and Reina file in after them, and I follow suit.
“And what if I am? Complaining, that is?” Draven asks, and it’s all I can do to not roll my eyes.
“I could have you executed.”
Draven scoffs. “You’re going to have me execute myse?—”
“No, I’d have Reina and Absinthe do it. You’re no longer The Executioner, remember?”
“No, I’m justThe Hand, which is somehow, muchmuchworse, given what you probably use your hands for,” Draven says, one eyebrow ticking up.
Gemma smirks, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She looks both amused and annoyed. “Alright boys, are we going to repeat the same seven empty threats and unoriginal jokes we always do, or can we get down to business?”
“Well, you’re no fun today.” Draven pokes his wife’s arm.
“Lilian, Yasmeena, and I had plans, and they got cancelled forthisemergency meeting, of course I’m no fun,” Gemma replies, and Luc stiffens at the mention of Lilian.
I don’t have much dirt on The Devil, but if you asked me his weakness, I’d say it’s my best friend. Lilian. He loves his brother Raph, and it’s clear he cares deeply for Draven and Gemma, but there’s something about the way every hair on his body shoots up at the mere mention of her that gives it away. I don’t intend tobetray my king, and I wouldneverdo anything to put Lilian at risk, but if I were someone else… she’s who I’d use as bait against him.
Luc sits up, placing his clasped fists onto the wooden table. “I’ve called you five in today because this turf war is in dire need of an intervention. It has gone on long enough.”
I bristle, trying to keep my head level about a conflict that hits so close to home for me. After Khalid and I escaped the harsh conditions on Ira, many of our people followed suit. We have made a home here on Haeresis, but that home is threatened every day by the three existing lupion packs.
“When you and Raph said the felion could seek refuge here, I warned you that there would be Hel to pay with the lupion,” Draven says, his voice a quiet threat.
“You wanted me to deny them sanctuary?” Luc asks, blue eyes so frigid they could freeze you with just one look.
It’s interesting to watch how he and Draven address each other; they fight more like siblings than a king and his hand.
