Among the noise of all their steps, Tadeo almost missed the sound of Dante jogging up to him, saying, “Where are you going?My God, they hit your fucking house.And I’m sure they knew where it was all this time.They were just waiting for a fucking excuse— Needed the right moment to let them get away with this?—”
“My uncle is dead,” interjected Tadeo softly, hollow.“And I almost lost the rest of my family.I just learned that my only friend was just using me, knowing I would die.”He continued walking, but he turned his face toward his own shoulder, not looking back at the soldier either.“What do you want, Dante?”‘What did the resurrection mean if I was born again to die?What did any of this mean?’
Dante hesitated, then he said, tightly, “I’m sorry.”‘The strike didn’t come from me; I sent the text less than an hour ago.’But fear churned his stomach.And so when Tadeo didn’t reply, the soldier cursed, took him by the arm to force him to stop.
This time, however, Tadeo felt a whip of anger and terror shock his body, and he snarled, for the third time, “Don’t fucking touch me!”He tore his arm away, spun around, and eyes tore open across his face, mouth crowded with the jaws of a Beast.“You can leave!”But his voice cracked.“Leave and go back to your mother?—”
“Iwill,” Dante said, quick, a tinge of anger and terror in his words.“I will, idiot.I’m not going to stay in this shithole.”
“Then why are you still following me!?”
“I wanted to apologize,” Dante snapped.“Because I—” ‘Do I say it?Do I tell him he made a mistake not killing me that day?’“I followed you into Hell,” he said carefully, “wanting to find out how to kill you so that I could tell my commanders.But, fuck, I didn’t know what to do.I can’t just go back, Tadeo.If I did, they’d kill me for knowing too much.They’d kill my mother.”‘They’re already holding her.’“I already lost my sister.I don’t know— I didn’t know what else to do.”Oddly, a visible tension fell from Tadeo’s face, and the eyes he’d just sprouted began to shut, his sharpened teeth began to dull.Maybe he’d wanted to hear this, perhaps have his suspicions of Dante confirmed.“So, I’m asking you to forgive me.”‘For what you think I wanted to do, for what I’ve already done.’“You can understand, can’t you?”
Tadeo flinched; he could understand; he could understand Joana too.
“I,” Dante continued, “understand why you did what you did to me, too.I hate you for it, but I understand.We’re all just trying to survive.”He laughed then, bitterly.“Maybe you don’t have to forgive me?—”
“But I do,” said Tadeo, his lips trembling, fighting either a smile or a frown — he didn’t know.“I forgive you, Dante.”‘I forgive Joana too.’Maybe he shouldn’t have walked away without telling her that.
The soldier was quiet for a moment, staring at him with his brows furrowed, a crease forming between them; his mouth opened, closed, then opened again.“Why?”The word had such an edge that it may as well have been a, ‘What is wrong with you?’
Tadeo swallowed, then shrugged.“It’s the right thing to do.”The words hurt him, though he insisted to himself that he meant it, that he was good enough to believe in the right thing.If it was true that he was the anti-Christ, he began to wonder if God would forgive him for suicide, if He would allow it just this once.He’d tried to be good.He’d thought he’d been good all this time.His throat closed and itched, and his body was beginning to slump in exhaustion.Then, he lowered his gaze, down to that bandaged stump where the soldier’s arm ended; Tadeo’s sin.He reached, slow, to ensure that Dante had every chance to pull away, but the soldier didn’t.
Brushing his fingers on the wrist, Tadeo felt Dante’ muscles tense beneath his skin.He remembered healing that woman, without meaning to, with Dina.And, with no water, no more than touch, Tadeo healed Dante’s hand, then squeezed it.
CHAPTER31
In the devil’s chambers, Baal had been sitting at the edge of the bed, slumped over in exhaustion, when he was told of Satan’s capture.
Since the soldier and the anti-Christ escaped Hell, the civil conflict had only grown.Moloch’s followers had declared themselves authorities in several clusters of demon abodes, and fighting a war in the sprawling, ever-shifting, unyielding body of Hell was no easy feat.In the aftermath of the fall, Baal had led wars on Earth, even against Moloch, over the sparse water and resources, for anything that could relieve the pain of being alive eternally — but this was far worse, far more surreal.The souls of the damned continually wailed, their mangled bodies dribbling onto their streets.Even the demons most loyal to Baal complained that Moloch’s promises were seductive, the promises of better distribution of food, of water, and even of sex for all those who didn’t care for the orgies.Quietly, they suggested that maybe Moloch should indeed be the regent, that he might pair better with the devil’s beautiful cruelty.And Baal had whipped them for it with his morning star, bared his teeth, angrier than he’d ever been.
But now, he sat, stared with reddened eyes and stitches stinging across his body at the demon spy who’d just returned from the surface again — Gemory.He sighed at her, shut his eyes, and said, “Go out and gather the demons.Find Moloch.”Once, Satan had said common enemies could unite anything; he’d whispered it while reminiscing of how demons and angels had fought together against the Watchers for the sin of loving.“We have to face Heaven.”
Gemory’s face flickered with a sudden terror but not shock, then she took a step back, hand coming over the front of her robe.“Is the world really ending, Baal?”Unlike the others, she had avoided punishment for running off with Asmodeus, Armoni, Rosier, and that human soldier — Baal had thought her too valuable as a scout on Earth — but she’d been visibly anxious since.Even if he wanted to punish her, though, Baal would not be as brutal as he often was.He’d come to like her; there weren’t many true women in Hell.And there weren’t any true men, but Baal supposed that was for the best.
“It’s ended before,” Baal chuckled dryly.“What’s another time?”The mattresses creaked beneath the regent of Hell as he, slowly, rose to stand, his muscles stiff.Turning away from her, he headed for one of the dressers, the one for him; he had no need for many, unlike Satan’s collection of clothes for every century in human history.Baal stopped, looked to a vanity mirror nearby, where there was a golden-framed photograph — ancient and torn at its edges.In it, Satan was sitting in a chair with Baal close behind him — both in their Hell drapery, their horns, and Baal’s tail.One of the first pictures of the first cameras to ever appear on Earth, snapped by a terrified human man.Baal always thought they looked so serious in it, like neither had ever smiled in their endless lives.“Go, Gemory.”
“Yes— Yes, Baal.”
The regent of Hell, shakily, drew in a breath.He didn’t usually dare sound so uncertain,worried, before anyone beside his beloved devil, but he knew that Gemory wouldn’t think less of him for it.Thumping, her steps headed away from the bedroom, and Baal allowed silence to linger.‘Satan,’ he wanted to say, ‘if God has harmed you, I’ll have to raze Heaven to the ground.If Michael has harmed you, I’ll have to create an entire new Hell just for him.’The devil had sat with Baal a hundred times and explained that God wasn’t likely to kill him, but there were much worse things than death that He was capable of.Satan’s voice had been distant as he spoke, and his eyes had shut when Baal put a palm against one of his cold cheeks.‘Will Hell burn up, as you always warned, Satan?’He took the photograph, and he would look for the chest of Cain’s belongings, and he would have to accept all else that he’d lose of home.‘But the world has already ended, and we survived it once.Lucifer.We can survive it again.’
Setting his jaw, the demon dressed in a new tunic, brought a Roman wreath to his head, and then draped on a cape.He took his mace, then headed for the balcony of the great tower.It was too early to expect all the demons already gathered, but he would wait there, standing over the heart of Hell, watching them, and he would tell them to put their wars aside, for the first war in history had just risen from its slumber.“And Satan,” he’d say to their horrified faces, “is gone.He’s been taken from us.”Already, he imagined the horror of the crowd, the manner in which they’d yell, but he’d meet their anger with his own: “We will bring Heaven to its knees.”Baal — slamming a fist onto the stone balustrade.“We will end the war for Heaven now — millions of years since it began.”Panting, every muscle in him twisting tight enough to burn.“Heaven and Earth will be ours.”
‘Speak from your chest,’ Satan had critiqued two hundred years ago, laying over the divan prettily, braiding his hair.‘You’re my regent of Hell, Baal.They should fear the heart in your words.’
Once the demons were here to listen — “We’ll bring home their apocalypse,” Baal seethed.“Put aside our battles among each other, for as demons, we all serve the one who led us to freedom.Whether you follow me or your false leaders, march alongside each other to Heaven so that our true god, our king, the one who led us to freedom, can be restored!”‘And then you will rule again, Lucifer, and I will be beside you.And we can allow God to burn up the Earth, and all of man on it.Our Hell must remain.’The crowd rallied; they cheered.
But elsewhere, there was silence, broken up by wet huffs of breath.Asmodeus, kissing, sucking on Rosier’s neck while the latter simply sat back against the wall, holding the duke, staring forward, eyes half-lidded.They had done little else besides this and talk after they’d been dragged to prison by Baal and his demons.Even Rosier, who could find himself entertained by even strings of thread found himself with nothing to keep him from sleep except Asmodeus’ affections.The night before — though they had no way of knowing the hour in the constant dark of the cell — he had even allowed Asmodeus to fuck him, though not without keeping his tunic on, hoping Asmodeus’ body over his would shield him from anyone wanting to enjoy watching.Asmodeus’ rank and respect might prevent demons from joining uninvited, but Rosier still wished for private intimacy, however angelic that was for him to think.
Soon, however, rapid footsteps sounded, then a figure staggered into view at the other end of the bars.
“Rosier!”a disheveled Armoni in furs called, then grimaced when he saw what Asmodeus was doing, but he bit his tongue; he always did when it came to Asmodeus and Rosier.Not long after they’d met, Armoni had kindly suggested that maybe Rosier and Asmodeus were not right for each other, and Rosier had told Armoni that he simply didn’t understand.‘I think you don’t understand it either,’ Armoni had replied, ‘but I won’t press on this, this bruise you carry named Asmodeus.And I know that he’s the only thing keeping Moloch from hurting me because you ask it of him.Don’t look at me like that.I know you’ll say Asmodeus is genuine in his want to help me, but we can’t be sure, can we?But I do know that I owe him everything, the way I owe you everything.If it weren’t for you both, Satan would have allowed Moloch to tear me apart after taking the Leviathan from me to raise as his own child.’But Satan had failed, of course; even the devil couldn’t raise the abominations born from women and their Watchers.
“Armoni?”Rosier whispered at the same time Asmodeus pulled away and turned to see the angel.
Before Armoni could say much else, however, a large, armored figure stepped up behind him — Moloch.He was dressed in red as dark as his trimmed hair, and he snorted at the sight of the duke of lust pressed so close to Rosier.“Asmodeus,” Moloch chuckled.“You could have joined me, my side of the war, and not have to waste away in here.”He retrieved a key — stolen, surely — and jammed it into the lock at the door, twisting it, then going to grip the handle.Neither Asmodeus nor Rosier moved when he pulled the exit open for them, and he seemed as equally amused by that as catching them acting so affectionate.“But you can pick your side once we all return from Heaven.”
“Heaven?”Asmodeus scoffed.“What are you saying?”
