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“My name is Callie. I fucking hate being called Calliope.”
Leviathan’s scowl morphs into a vicious grin. “A little lesson, then,Calliope: Never tell a demon what bothers you.”
Callie takes a step backwards, towards me, and she readies more lightning. “Noted, asshole. Now again, either state Your business or leave. Az and I have to get back home. We’ve got a Realm to run and all that.”
Her choice of words startles me. “Home.” “We’vegot a Realm to run.” Does she truly consider My Domain home now?
A long moment of silence drags out as Leviathan appears to consider her words. After a while, he lets his frost ball dissipate and steps back behind His Minions. “Fine. I can see you might not be ready for what I have to tell you. I can wait until you are more receptive.” With a wave of his hand, the entire ring of demons plane shifts away, and Callie and I are left alone.
She surveys our surroundings, walking in a wide circle around me, her hands still charged with energy. When no other demons appear to challenge us—to challenge her—she tosses the lightning bolt at a nearby rock with a frustrated scream.
“Fuck! We almost had Him.” Callie turns back to me and frowns. “Dude, Az, He’s gone. You can shift back if You want.”
I open my mouth to answer but only manage to cough up thick, black demon blood. I wipe my chin and let out a bitter laugh. “I am afraid not, Callie. I’m too injured to glamour myself right now. Too weak.”
Anyone else, and I would not have admitted that weakness. I trust Callie, though, and I don’t wish to lie to her.
She strides over to me and starts inspecting my wounds. I hiss in a sharp breath when she presses on my ribs, and my torn wing lies limp behind me. Thick, inky black blood oozes from a dozen wounds, but Callie doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t shy away from my demonic form. I remember now that she spent time in Hell with My Sons, traveling with them, and during that time they had been forced to live in their demon forms to conserve energy. No wonder she’s not afraid.
“Can’t You heal this?” she asks. “I know Arman can use infernal energy to heal. Why aren’t You?”
A bitter chuckle escapes my lips, and I falter on my feet. “My Son has a special gift. It’s not common for demons to be able to heal in any capacity. I can heal minor wounds on lesser beings—no offense intended—but these wounds are too severe, and I do not have enough power in me to do so right now.”
Rather than mock my weakness, Callie steps under my arm to provide support. “Okay. So, let’s get You home. You can draw on the sexual energy there and heal that way, right?”
I hesitate to answer. These wounds are too vast for indirect energy. I need more than just the energy siphoned from the sex of others; I need to fuck for myself.
“I … might stabilize if we go back. We should start walking.”
“You’re in no shape to walk! Just plane shift us.”
“I can’t. Not strong enough.”
Callie sighs and rolls her blue eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it. But as big as You are right now, it’s gonna wipe me out. I won’t be able to do much else until my own energy builds back up.” She wraps an arm around me, and the world around us warps as she shifts us to her room behind My Throne.
It’s a strange choice. I would have shifted to My Throne, My literal Seat of Power. Why did she take me here?
She answers a moment later, when she’s caught her breath, as though she anticipates my question. “You’re too badly hurt to be out in the open right now. I trust Lena’s boyfriends, but I’m not leaving You up there on Your Throne where everyone and their brother can see how injured You are. It would be a bloodbath out there if any of Your other kids are planning a takeover anytime soon. Remember Rukhsana? Besides, I doubt Leviathan knows You’ve got this room stashed back here. Nobody can see the door behind Your Throne.”
“I thank you for your considerate thoughts,” I rasp through gritted teeth. My pain grows worse, and the pastel pink carpet she conjured in here is getting soaked with my black blood. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind conjuring a chair for me? I don’t want to get blood on your bed.”
Another eyeroll. Another sigh. “Dude, get on the damn bed. I’ll clean it up later. Just rest for once in Your eternal life.”
I’ve become so weak that Callie easily pushes me onto the bed. I’m surprised to find that the mattress is firm, much firmer than the one I had initially conjured for her. She must have altered it on her own.
“Now, lie there and rest. I’ll handle things while You recuperate.”
I chuckle, though it’s without humor. “You’ll handle things? Are you saying you plan to take over my administrative duties while I lie here?”
She steps back and wipes her hands on her pants, smearing oily black blood on the garment. “How hard can it be? I assign some of Your Kids to torture the new souls that arrive here, and make sure the old tortures are still going on. Easy peasy.”
Chapter 7
Callie
It takes a while to conjure up enough bandages and supplies to stop the bleeding. I know absolutely nothing about first aid on demons, but Az talks me through most of it, telling me what to put where and how much pressure to apply. The stitches skeeve me out a bit, but I follow His instructions to the letter, no matter how gross it might be to run a needle through your friend’s scaly skin.
Once I’m sure He’s not going to bleed out on me, I change out of my bloody clothes and leave Him on my bed to recover. I shut the door to my room behind me and stare at the steps to Az’s Throne.
