What they knew about Azerius was limited—according to legend, he was the son of a disgraced god and eventually slaughtered his sixteen siblings and their entire families in a bid to reclaim his father’s elusive attention. When that failed, Azerius made a dark bargain with the old gods of his father’s time, ultimately rising in power as a demon who sews chaos on human battlefields and unleashes an unquenchable thirst for violence and brutality.
Some demonic factions—including Rogozin’s organization—venerated him as a god.
And hedefinitelyhad a hard-on for Dorian—more than likely, removing the vampire king’s head from his body was at the very top of Azerius’ things-to-do-when-you’re-topside bucket list.
“So who’s the greater threat right now?” Gabriel asked. “Azerius? Viansa?”
“Don’t forget the Keepers of the Dark Flame,” Isabelle said.
“We took out a bunch of them at the warehouse,” Gabriel said.
“A bunch, but not all.” Isabelle set down her teacup. “I infiltrated a Solstice gathering in Brooklyn. It was outdoors—I wasn’t spotted.”
“What did you learn?” he asked.
“I’m afraid the cult is much larger—and much more organized—than we feared. They never mentioned Viansa or Azerius by name at the gathering, but it’s clear they’re working to bring the demons to power. They’ve got various factions across the metro area, all of them preparing spells and rituals designed to forge a direct connection to hell—the kind of magic even the darkest of dark witches know better than to experiment with.”
“Colin’s been hearing whispers at the hospital about ritual murders,” Dorian said. “The police haven’t given an official statement, but he’s seen some of the bodies and is confident it’s the Dark Flame mages.”
“How can he tell?” Gabriel asked.
“The burns and carvings on their torsos are consistent with the red sigil you and Jacinda described seeing in the cave at Shimmer.”
“Viansa’ssigil,” Jacinda said, as if Gabriel needed the reminder.
His insides burned at the memory of that night. The fucking mages who nearly sacrificed Jacinda. He reached under the table for her hand, holding it tight against his thigh.
“Viansa’s been topside for weeks,” Jacinda said. “She needs sexual energy to survive and death energy to stay. We knew the bodies would start turning up eventually.”
“Unfortunately,” Isabelle said, “there are likely even more of them yet to be discovered. And if we don’t stop this thing she’s plotting with Azerius…”
She didn’t need to elaborate.
“We still need to figure out a binding spell for Viansa,” Jacinda said, seemingly undaunted by the immensity of the task. “If we can trap her here without her power, we can force her to talk. Not just about my father’s soul, but about Azerius and his plans.”
“And without the succubus and her loyal mages working magic on Azerius’ behalf,” Isabelle said, “there’s a chance the demon can’t manifest here at all—true form or otherwise.”
Cole poured a shot of whiskey into his coffee and stirred, ignoring Isabelle’s sharp glare. “Far as you know, any demon ever manifest here in his true form?”
“No. And if they did, we’d all be in someseriousshit.”
“Define serious,” Gabriel said.
“According to the legends, any human who looks upon the true face of a demon will succumb instantly to a madness so severe, he’ll set himself on fire just to burn the memory from his mind.”
Gabriel downed the last of his blood, then stared out the windows behind the breakfast nook, squinting into the morning light. Outside, a thick blanket of snow covered the grounds of Ravenswood, glittering and pristine. A cardinal landed on a bare tree branch just beyond the pane, a bright slash of color against the snow.
How was it possible they could be sitting here on this breathtakingly perfect winter morning, enjoying pancakes and one another’s company when somewhere in the same universe, a legion of demons plotted to eradicate their very existence?
Everyone’svery existence?
Nine million humans in the metro area alone, and now Gabriel pictured them all lining up in the streets, dousing themselves in gasoline and setting themselves ablaze just to escape the horrors of one demon. One fucking monster.
And that was just here in New York. If Azerius manifested in his true form outside of hell, how long until the entire human population was nothing but ash in the wind?
“Self-immolation?” Dorian asked. “That’s… that’s just insanity, Isabelle. Utter insanity.”
“Hell’s most fearsome demons are not known for their sanity,” she replied.
