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“All of you wait here,” the gargoyle instructed.
Wynter nodded and watched him stalk away, wondering just which of the Ancients she’d find herself facing. She then turned to Hattie. “Haven’t we told you not to ask strangers sex-related questions?”
“I just want to know what this anilingus thing is,” said Hattie, all innocence. “He was a strapping man, so I’m sure he’s popular with the ladies—he seemed like a good source of information.” She pointed at the page of her book again. “I’m thinking it’s possibly back-door finger-fun.”
Back-door finger fun? Seriously?
“More like tongue-fun,” said Xavier, a smirk playing around the edges of his mouth.
Hattie’s hazel eyes went wide. “Ooh, really? My, my, my. Do people wear tongue protection when they do that?”
Wynter sighed and scrubbed a hand down her face. They were all whacked. Every one of them.
*
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Cain flicked a look at Azazel and reminded him, “I rarely joke.”
“I thought you were just in a bad mood because you had to fire one of your aides. I know you have no patience for conducting interviews.”
Cain sighed and crossed to the vintage liquor cabinet. “Firing him was probably an overreaction on my part, but my mind isn’t in a good place right now. I’ve been awake too long. I haven’t Rested in over five centuries, and I’m feeling the sting of it.”
Azazel sat on the sofa. “I sensed that you were struggling; I just wasn’t sure how badly.”
Cain poured whiskey into a tumbler. “The numbness wasn’t so bad for a time, because things pierced it here and there, but that very rarely happens now. And that’s the problem. It’s emotion that makes a person feel alive.”
When you’d lived so long that you’d experienced the same emotions over and over and over and over—anger, sadness, grief—they eventually lost their power over you. And when you no longer experienced the feelings that made people hesitate to hurt others, like empathy or remorse, it left you capable of many things.
Azazel thrust his hand through his dark hair and gave a solemn nod. “We’ve all hit that stage at some point where you start seeking other ways to make you feel alive. Adrenaline rushes. Doling out pain. Receiving pain.”
“And it’s never long before those things lose their shine, because boredom is our constant and closest companion.” Cain knocked back some of his drink. “I’ve stopped wanting things. The only thing I really crave is retribution—that never goes away, never will. But other than that? There’s nothing.” When there was nothing you wanted, you were just drifting, floating, aimless. “And now there are times when my mood goes black. It’s not anger. It’s not rage. It’s a dark state of mind, and I don’t like the thoughts I have when those moods take me. I need to click the reboot option.”
No more than two of the seven Ancients ever Rested at a time. The sisters, Inanna and Ishtar, had chosen to Rest three centuries ago. Ishtar had woken early, which meant Cain could now sleep if he wished.
“If that’s what you need, I’m behind you.” Azazel cocked his head, his blue eyes sharpening. “You ever worry that one day we’ll wake and find that the Rest didn’t do shit for us?”
Considering it had been an eternally long time since it had made him feel truly refreshed … “Yes. When we were first banished, I swore vengeance would one day be ours. I didn’t think we’d still be trapped in this place so many years later.”
“You’ve given up hope that we’ll ever be free?”
“No. I never will. But essentially being caged is wearing on us all, isn’t it? That’s why our Rests are becoming less and less restful.” People thought that Cain and the other Ancients stayed in Devil’s Cradle by choice. In truth, they were stuck here, courtesy of the Aeons. “But we can’t open this invisible prison unless we kill the four who created it, and it’s impossible to do that when they won’t step foot on this land.”
“At least we can take comfort in knowing they’ll hate that we still live. The Aeons were sure we’d all lose our shit on being confined and that we’d then turn on each other. They underestimated us on so many levels. They probably have no idea how prepared we are for war.”
“All the preparations mean nothing if we can’t make them bring that war to us. We have no way to take it to them.”
Azazel swept his hand down a face that females everywhere sighed over. He’d been described by more than one woman as having the look of an avenging angel—which might be why he’d been mistaken by humans for a fallen-angel-turned-demon.
“I kept thinking that, annoyed we still live, they’d come to finish us off at some point,” said Azazel. “Particularly you. With the exception of your mother, they hate that you’ve ever breathed.”
More, they upheld that Cain had no place on—or beneath, as it were—this Earth. In his opinion, he had as much of a right to exist as anyone else. He understood why the Aeons felt differently. He simply didn’t agree. “I thought they’d come to rescue Seth, given how convinced they are that I brainwashed him into joining our side.”
Azazel snorted. “They don’t know your brother half as well as they think they do.” He briefly glanced out of the window, adding, “He’ll be disappointed that you plan to Rest awhile, but he’ll understand.”
“I don’t intend to Rest for another few months. I have to settle several matters beforehand. You’ll all have permission to wake me early if a situation warrants it.” Cain sank onto the other velvet sofa. “You know, you didn’t tell me what brought you here.”
Azazel’s eyes lit up. “Ah, well, I heard something you’re going to findveryinteresting. It’ll put a smile on your face like nothing else can.”
