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After another sleepless night of pacing and panic, I'm suddenly treated to scrambled eggs, pancakes, toast, hash browns, and a fruit cup. There’s even orange juice. Either Leviathan sent demons to steal from a Denny’s, or there's some kind of demon out there that lays eggs. To ease my mind, I tell myself it's theft.
Leviathan materializes on His stool and sits back to watch me eat. Since I'm beyond caring about what He thinks of me, I dive in like a starving jackal. Partly because I'm actually starving, and partly because I'm a little bit feral at this point. He watches me eat with slightly more interest than usual, and once I realize this I pause.
I glance up from my plate and study His expression. He's eyeing me with intent, green eyes glistening with some emotion that I can’t quite read. I'd almost say He looks gleeful. Happy.
“What’s this new fascination with my eating habits?” I ask, suddenly no longer hungry.
His lips spread in a shit-eating grin, and that frequent nausea I’ve been having resurfaces with a vengeance.
“I've been reading up on human mating and gestation,” He says. He pauses as if to give me time to react.
My stomach drops clean out of me, and I turn my head to avoid vomiting on my plate. When I'm done heaving, I wipe my chin and return my gaze to my captor.
He leans closer, His grin widening.
“Should I fetch you a human doctor, my dear? It appears that you have developed an upset stomach. I’d hate for you to become malnourished because you can’t keep down your meal.”
Shit. He knows.
A tremor shudders through my body, and my hands move reflexively to my abdomen, as though I could fend Him off that way.
Satisfaction flashes across His face, and He sits back. “I thought so. Well, you needn’t worry for your child's safety, dear Callie. I won’t harm it. In fact, I might even allow My Brother to keep it, so long as you stay here.”
So that's His game now. He’s found a new bargaining chip, one that I’m powerless to refuse. He can demand just about anything now, and I'll have no choice but to agree. My hands clench into fists over my belly, and I surprise myself with a low, guttural growl from the back of my throat.
I guess I'm more feral than I thought I was.
All this just seems to add to Leviathan’s amusement. With that damned grin still plastered on His face, He stands and dismisses the stool.
“You'll continue to receive adequate food and drink. I shall return once the whelp is born.”
He vanishes before I can get a word out.
Panic constricts my throat to the point of suffocating. I gasp and wheeze, gulping for air. The room spins around me as the reality of my situation sinks in.
Leviathan is going to steal my baby. He might give it to Az, if I behave, but He's just as likely to kill it. I've got to tread lightly if I’m going to secure my baby's safety. One wrong move, and Leviathan might decide it’s not worth the effort to have me be a somewhat willing participant in His sick little plan. My stomach churns, but I’ve already puked up what little I ate. All I can do is dry heave until the feeling passes.
I’m stuck. There's no way I can fight this. I have to toe the line for my baby's sake. Play along. Do whatever Leviathan demands.
At least I've bored Him enough to earn a reprieve from His visits. He doesn’t seem super interested in breeding me when I've already been bred. Once the baby's born, though, I have no doubt He'll keep His word and return to finish what He started.
The clock is ticking, and I find myself praying that Asmodeus arrives before the baby does.
Chapter 22
Asmodeus
Having conscripted the whole of Satan’s Army, we march straightaway for Leviathan’s Realm. Thousands upon thousands file behind and above me, as demons choose to either travel by wing or by foot. We could plane shift into Envy, but I want to gather as much intel as possible before descending on My Brother’s Realm. Elena’s wolves shift and run ahead, acting as scouts. Their sensitive noses sniff out hidden envy demons, and their sharp teeth and powerful jaws make short work of the vile things.
A few of the envy demons are left alive and brought to me for questioning. From what little they’ll reveal, we learn of her state of dress—or lack thereof—from a more talkative captive, and a fresh wave of wrath pulsates through the hellscape as I seethe. Rage wells within me, and Satan’s Children rally around me as they sense their Father’s given Sin. The air echoes with their screeching as they get more and more excited and bloodthirsty, brought on by my anger.
The wrath demons now fly in erratic circles overhead, fists pumping in excitement. They’ve been without a proper leader for years, been without a Master, and now they not only have a new Master, but one who, apparently, feeds them with His Wrath. It’s like they’ve been starving, and now they sup on my rage.
He dared take her clothes, her dignity? He dared reduce her to an object, a thing to be acquired? Callie should be clothed in the finest attire, not reduced to wearing a bedsheet!
Leviathan will not live past Our next meeting. If Callie doesn’t escape and kill Him for His indiscretions, I certainly will, Brother or no. Our blood bond, what there is of one, is no match for the power of my love for Callie.
The closer we get to the coast of Envy’s Sea, the more withdrawn the fae girl becomes. Her behavior, combined with her continued refusal to answer my question, all but cements my certainty that Callie is carrying My Child. I know from experience that life-touched fae can see the life bonds between soulmates as well as the blood bonds between kin. She would not be so preoccupied unless she sees something concerning about Callie’s physical state—say, a burgeoning life inside her.
