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“Citizens of Wrath! I, Asmodeus, have come with a proposition for you. I have come to give you new purpose in the wake of your Leader’s death!”
Many curious glares follow, but the demons remain quiet.
“Your Uncle, Leviathan, has taken someone from me, someone I treasure, and in my wrath I aim to get her back. Join me in My Army. Allow yourselves to once again be ruled by a Prince filled with Wrath!”
I expect cheers, shouts, screeches of delight, but instead am met with silence.
My Son Samsher steps forward, out of formation. “Father, please, allow me.”
I nod in acknowledgement, and he proceeds to surprise me.
Samsher has never been much for words, though when it comes to battle he is second to none in My Army. Imagine my astonishment when he opens his mouth and proceeds to rally the wrath demons.
“Do you forget the laws here in this wasteland we call home? Do you forget how my Father helped my wife to destroy your Ruler? How else can you sit idly by when He calls for you to take arms?” He pauses to survey their response, which is one of keen interest. Murmurs ripple through their ranks. “My Father and my wife slew Satan, and now, as your rightful Rulers in His place, they command your attention! My Father’s Mate has been taken by His treacherous Brother, Leviathan, and Asmodeus, demon Prince of LustandWrath, demands retribution!”
By this time, the horde has gone from interest to approval to frothing at the mouth with excitement. No one has tried to rally or rule them in four years by human counting. A drop in the ocean of time in Hell, but long enough for their bloodthirst to be piqued by Samsher’s words.
His argument is a sound one, but it sets a dangerous precedent. Does this mean that I’ll be the new Prince of Envy when I stop Leviathan? Claiming two Realms is bold enough, but three? It’s all unheard of—Satan was the first of us to be slain—and I shudder to think of what might be in store once this battle is over.
Still, his speech is effective. Without a single drop of my allies’ blood spent, he managed to win over an entire other army. We more than double Leviathan’s ranks. Attacking Him in the center of His Seat of Power might not prove suicidal now.
The new army joins with My Children, and now I march with twice the strength. Elena crosses behind me to join Samsher on my other side. She whispers in his ear, soft but loud enough for my ears to pick up.
“You’re totally getting laid first when this is all done. That was sexy as hell, baby.”
Chapter 21
Callie
They say that sleep is for the weak. If that's the case, I must be one strong motherfucker, because I’ve barely gotten a minute of shuteye since Leviathan caught me.
Every time I start to doze off, He shows up. I don’t even make it to REM sleep before He's there, grinning and groping. Since I refuse to let Him touch me when I'm awake, it seems He's chosen to assault me in my sleep. Less resistance, I guess, except He never lets me get into a deep enough slumber for Him to accomplish anything. I jerk awake the second His grimy hands touch me and scramble away, half delirious.
My delirium eventually stretches into my waking life. Soon I have trouble remembering words, my coordination is off, and I start seeing things.
I start to see Az.
It's a cruel joke for my sleep-deprived brain to play on me. At first, I think I've been rescued. Az appears in a shimmer of light, His arms open and inviting. I run to them, only it’s not His arms …
… it's Leviathan’s.
I shriek and fight my way free as soon as I realize my mistake. Leviathan casts a confused glance my way, then shrugs and summons His little wooden stool. He always watches me from that perch unless I manage to piss Him off. Then He pulls out the Big Guns, the Throne, as though that's going to impress me enough for me to cooperate. I play along, pretending to be intimidated by the show, but frankly I couldn’t care less what kind of chair He plants His ass in. He can sit on the commode for all I care, and it wouldn’t change my already-low opinion of Him. Hell, it might make me think more of the jerk. Prove that He has a smidgeon of humility.
The sheet is getting grimy. Though I'm not exactly exerting myself, the human body still sweats in Hell, still gets dirty, and since Leviathan’s one caveat for a bath or shower is that He gets to watch, I abstain. It's bad enough that the creep seems to get off on watching me use the toilet. I don’t know what His fascination is with it, but every time I use it, He’s there to ogle me.
Without sleep to recharge my brain, my nerves teeter on a razor’s edge. Each little sound or movement sets me off, makes me jump and squeal. I don’t know how much more I can take.
As promised, Leviathan’s Minions slaughter and cook my food right in front of me. To my relief, they have yet to catch an incubus or succubus for me to eat. Instead, they find a wrath or sloth or pride demon to fry up. The pride demons are super weird to eat. Their exterior is mirrored, all gloss and shine, but I soon learn that theirinterior,their meat and bones, reflects as well. It's a little disconcerting to see my warped face looking back at me when I sit down to eat, even more disturbing to watch as my food reflects the interior of my mouth getting closer and closer.
I learn to eat pride demon with my eyes shut tight.
Demon meat may be protein, same as any meat on Earth, but I start to worry about the small bump in my midsection. Y’know, that little missed period that never showed up. That. It’s Az’s, I know that much for certain, so it's gonna be half demon, but could a diet of nothing but water and demon meat be good for it? Will it grow to be more demon than human? I mean, I'll love it either way. My niece and nephew are half-demons, and that doesn’t make me love them any less. My nutrition needs start to concern me, though, and I start to give Leviathan small concessions in exchange for better food. A kiss here and there for some fruit. A quick feel for a slice of whole wheat. It sickens me to do it—or maybe that's morning sickness—but I'm not just eating for myself anymore. I've gotta suck it up and do what I need to for my baby's sake.
I don’t know if Leviathan has figured it out yet. He doesn’t pay much attention to my growing midsection. He seems annoyed when my breasts become sensitive enough to make me shrink back from His touch, but I don’t think He knows enough about human anatomy to realize what’s going on. That Guy is basically Captain Oblivious. His singular focus on wooing me blinds Him to the metaphorical elephant in the room.
What is taking Az so long to come for me? I can’t believe He’d abandon me at a time like this—ever, really. It's gotta be the weird metaphysics of Hell. Either I'm progressing faster in this pregnancy than I would on Earth, or time outside Leviathan’s Domain passes differently. For all I know, I might not have been gone that long for Az. He might not have noticed me missing yet.
Dear God, I hope that's not the case. If Az isn't marching here with legions of His Children right now, I'm gonna pop before He gets here.
