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I take a step toward him, towering over him. “So you’ve been planning a revolution against me here on Earth. Who’s involved?”
He grits his teeth and glares at me. I snatch his ear off. His scream echoes through the building, the piercing cry bouncing off the walls. Sounds of movement from beyond the walls tell me that the rest of his gang is coming, probably drawn by the shouts and screams. But Fenriz, Moloch, and the other two are all over it, spreading out in a semi-circle around me and the wailing demon.
“Who?” I demand.
“Just us!” he screams. “And a few sad sacks we dragged up from Hell. No one else would get on board until we proved you could be hurt!”
“Then they’re smarter than you,” I hiss. “Although still very fucking stupid. Plotting to overthrow me. Now listen, and listen well. I run this world.” I get in his face and drop my voice to a snarl that carries like thunder across the warehouse. “I may be the Prince of Hell, but here on Earth, I’m the goddamn King.”
A flash of defiance edges out the pain in his features. “For now. But not for much longer.”
“We’ll see about that.” I straighten and sneer down at him before glancing over at my men. “Kill them. Kill them all.”
“No!”
As the man in my grip lets out a shrieking cry, his fellow demons shift into their animal forms and lunge.
But they don’t work together. Without a leader, they’re chaotic and impulsive, attacking the most convenient targets—and right now, Fenriz is that target. Three of them collide, tumbling over each other in their rush to tear at him, and he cuts them down. Blood and ichor spray over the small space, soaking into the velvet cushions. By the time those three demons fall, Moloch has already executed the two injured demons lying on the floor.
In the space of a heartbeat, the battle is done. Then a door at the back of the space bursts as the rest of the gang members charge into the space, snarling and snapping.
Striding over the bodies littering the floor, I meet the charge.
These cretins, these animals, they thought they could destroy me? Fury at the disrespect and sheer audacity fills every molecule of my being.
Roaring, I intercept a beast in midair, catching it by its throat and torso, and rip it in half, hurling the pieces across the room. For several seconds, the upper half of the beast continues to howl, sending the rest of the clan into a frenzy. I stand, whirling this way and that as they come for me in erratic waves. My skin burns hot with the power of my rage, turning the air around me into an oven which burns their tongues and eyes and skin should they get too close. They’re beyond self-preservation, beyond pain, functioning on sheer instinct.
As am I.
They aren’t beings to me, not demons or people. They’re nothing. I crush their bones in my hands, rip out their entrails, rend them limb from limb. Their dying screams are music to my ears, their spilled blood quenches my thirst. When the last of them falls in pieces at my feet, my only regret is that there weren’t more of them to slaughter.
The door opens. The four men I left outside march in, dragging dead bodies behind them—more demons, some in human guise, some in their natural state. My men look around at the carnage. Expressionlessly, they add their kills to the sea of bodies.
“Hang the skulls over each door,” I instruct them all. “Leave my mark on the floor with what’s left.”
Leaving them to deal with it, I step away to get control over myself. I’ve been trying to reassert my human guise for several moments, but my temper is still too strong. The temple in front, however blasphemous, might help me find my center. I head there, every part of my being aching to kill something else,anythingelse.
Something irritates my ears as I close on the doorway, some soft quiet keening clashes with my mood. The sound cuts off with a gasp as I step through to the temple. A quick scan of the room shows one of the drapes out of place, hanging awkwardly in one corner. It trembles as a delicate hand reaches out to tug on it.
Damn it all.
I told my enforcer to get the human women out of here. I didn’t know I needed to specify that he should get themallout of here. Some retraining might be in order. Prickling with irritation, I march over to the trembling drapery and rip it off the wall. A shrinking, terrified girl is huddled there, hugging her naked body.
Ah. Modesty overruled terror, did it? How’d that work out for you?
“Stand up,” I order.
“P-please,” she stutters as she rises. “Please make it qu-quick.”
Rage at the implication that I’d kill her outright, for no reason, nearly makes that very thing happen. My fists clench on the thick fabric and I force myself to swallow my temper. She refuses to look at me. Staring at my feet, she lets her tears fall unhindered to the floor. I shred the drape, and she jumps, trembling so hard I’m surprised she can keep her feet under her. I toss the drape around her, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible, and knot it into a makeshift toga. She still doesn’t move.
“Get out of here,” I snarl.
She can’t. She’s frozen to the spot.
Fucking hell, if people don’t stop goading me…
I grab her elbow and yank her to the door, tossing her out into the night. Maybe some fresh air will clear her fear and drug-addled brain.
