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“Oh believe me. Teenage Kai was a whole different breed. There’s a reason they call him the Prince of Darkness.”
A smile tips my lips as I think about teenage, pubescent Kai throwing a temper tantrum in the throne hall, or something of the sort. Still, I understand the war being waged internally. Sometimes, it feels like the only time I can breathe is when my magic is depleted after a long session with Finn, pushing the limits of my soul’s power,andthat of my blood magic from my witch heritage. It’d be easy to get lost in the sauce and let the power go to your head, given the right circumstances.
“It’s getting harder,” I admit, squinting at the orange and crimson wisps of light, making the castle into a silhouette.
“What do you mean?” There’s a certain feel to his voice. Empathy, maybe? It makes me wonder if he’s been picking up pointers from Clamara, my lady’s maid and the only empath in Hell Hold.
“The emotions are getting stronger. Magic builds beneath my skin until my entire body itches to let it out. The only time I haven’t felt that way is when I’ve depleted myself. And each time we’ve done that, it becomes harder to fight when my magic recovers. The pressure is… I swear if someone was to prick my skin, I’d detonate like a bomb.”
I can feel Finn’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look at them. There are enough people scared of me, which is why I’ve tried my best to keep my fear of losing control to myself, but it’s time. Someone needs to know, because at this rate, I’ll explode.
“Did Kai ever feel that way?” I ask, hoping it will prompt him to answer, to saysomething.
“No. But Kai was never spellbound. He grew up with his magic and got used to it as it grew. You’re just now trying to contain a tidal wave when you’ve barely had a drop before. It’s going to be different.”
I fidget with my fingers, wondering how the hell I can keep up the charade of being okay. Every day I grow stronger, and my power saws at the single thread of control I have left. Months ago, I swore it would have to cap out eventually. There had to be a limit. Only, it never stopped, and has since put my temper on a hairpin trigger. It makes me partially happy that Kai has been so busy. He doesn’t need the added stress.
“Come on,” Finn says, standing up and offering me a hand. “I have an idea, but it has to stay between us.”
2
Alice
The sun is long gone by the time we arrive in Purgatory.
From the outside, it’s a massive warehouse in a desolate area, surrounded by barbed wire fences amped with an electrical current. It’s Hell’s prison for the wicked souls that don’t deserve to get their halo. They’re ghostbustered into a glass jar before being transported here, where they’ll rot on a shelf until they learn to play nice. The fence is an insurance policy should one of the convicts escape.
The walls of the building are clad in smooth, white stones, giving the Palazzo Te a run for its money. Magnificent columns rise from the ground nesting in the roof four stories up, and the right and left wings extend out, forming a three-quarter circle around a courtyard. At least what looks like one. I’ve never actually been here. Lucifer, Kai, and Finn have told me about it to an extent, but what they’ve claimed is nothing compared to the giant in front of me. And I’m not talking about the building.
An orc, clad in battle armor, stands at parade rest guarding the wrought iron spiked gates. A helmet slides down past his eyes, curving over prominent cheekbones, allowing him to peer through the cut out holes in the silver plating. His tusks curl from the corners of his mouth, recently stained with blood, giving the ivory a pinkish tinge. It contrasts the green hue of his skin, and lodged in his hand is a silver tipped spear with a twisted point.
Haunting yellow eyes turn on us and my skin crawls as my magic twists through my veins, ready to meet whatever shit show is about to break out. For a man on duty, he certainly looks less than enthused to see us. I meet the creature’s steely gaze as Finn dismounts from his horse, pulling the reins over its head so he can lead the phantom mare up to the gates.
“State your business,” the orc man says. His voice is grave and robust, echoing through my body even from feet away. It commands attention from anyone with ears.
“Relax. We’re not here on orders from the crown. Instead of shutting down your secret club, we’re here to participate.” Finn stands a bit taller as he speaks, as if he needs the boosted masculinity to ward off feeling feeble in the presence of the guard. I don’t blame him. The dude is a mountain and I’d hate to be on his bad side.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Finn recoils as if being denied access is unfathomable. “That there,” he points at me, “is the Princess of Hell. Trust me, you don’t want to piss her off. Like I said, we’re not here to interfere, but she would like a spot in tonight’s games.”
Oh no…What is he signing me up for? I’ve never been a fan of organized crimes… much less of organizedactivities.
The orc’s eyes smile even though his mouth doesn’t so much as twitch. He’s been sizing me up since we approached and, based on the snorting sound he makes, I don’t stand a chance. “Where’s her crown?”
Shit…I’m never going to hear the end of this one. There’s a reason it’s still in our room. I believe in earning my spot on the throne and I refuse to be the kind of royal bitch who married into the role. I’d rather have my people’s respect and I’ll earn it before I wear that crown around willingly.
So far, they’re not even remotely on my side. Even though the lizard men I turned into Kentucky fried chicken deserved it, I still set half the market on fire. The villagers didn’t take too kindly to it.
“Crown or not, she’s still the princess and you will address her as such.” Finn waves me closer, narrowing his eyes at the orc. His left hand palms the hilt of his sword, ready to snatch it from the sheath should the guard press more.
“Regardless, I’m going to need some proof,your majesty.” The creature says it as if my title is a filthy word and tips his head toward me but doesn’t bow. In fact, the only sign of respect he’s given is what he’s been coached into saying.
As I near, Finn yanks a golden piece of metal from his belt. He holds it up and I glimpse what I can only describe as a fancy letter opener. It’s a golden, knife-like stick with a circle at one end. Inside of it is the royal crest.
“Proof enough for ya?” Finn scolds, daring the creature to contest his trusty letter opener.
“The right hand of the… I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have many royals visit besides Lucifer, and certainly not during…” The orc man shakes his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t excuse my mistake.” Stepping to the side and dropping to a knee, he signals someone cloaked behind the wall to open the gates.
