He’d occupied this lair for many long years before taking Paimon’s territory. It wasn’t a castle like his current dwelling, but more of a haunted manor. His ghosts had once stalked the halls, but now his entire territory had been deserted, littered with bones and fading necromancy wards.
He’d lived his solitary life, working toward endless goals, for as far back as his memory extended. Even before he’d set out to overthrow Lucifer, he’d been incessantly striving to amass more power and reach some new pinnacle of achievement in his necromancy practice.
He strode across the room to the cloudy windows, the foul-smelling dust of Hell stinging his nostrils. The lair hadn’t fallen into the Abysmal Sea during Lucifer’s ground-shaking tantrum as he’d feared it would. But as much as Murmur may have wanted to return to his lonely, lifeless existence here, he couldn’t.
He had to look after all the fucking demons who had sworn to serve him the day he’d overthrown their former mistress. No matter how badly he wanted to disappear, even die again, he had to take care of his minions, like a bunch of unwanted children.
He stared at the empty sea, feeling hopeless. In the distance, his resident kraken’s enormous tentacles shot out of the water, catching some hapless creature flying overhead, bringing it down to its gaping maw to consume.
How many hours had Murmur spent at this very window, watching the kraken fondly? Sometimes he’d captured flying demons and then released them over the water for the kraken to catch, like the beast was some sort of pet.
The monster’s tentacles waved in the air, and he stared at them, desperate for a sign. Anything to give his empty life meaning.
He’d served his purpose. He’d kicked off the war, and he’d positioned Belial to be at the head of it, whether the demon liked it or not. He’d even found a way to make the death sacrifice work without hurting Suyin—though he couldn’t undo the emotional hurt he’d caused in the process.
He was done. He haddied. It would have been the perfect end to his long life. Fulfillment of all his goals and a final sacrifice for the woman he’d learned to love before he’d lost her.
But he had chosen to return to life, and he didn’t understand why. Why was he alive if his death would have been a neat little bow tied on top of his life’s work? Why was he alive if—
So you agree with me finally. You love her.
Murmur stiffened. “It appears so. Not that it makes any difference now.”
Pretty weak love you’ve got there if you’re giving up on her that easily.
He ground his teeth. Apparently, being resurrected and losing his souls hadn’t cured him of the disconnect in his mind that caused him to converse with himself. At the moment, he regretted that immensely.
“I am not—She asked me to leave. I’ve done enough harm to her. I won’t dishonor her by ignoring her wishes. She told me to go, so that’s what I did.”
I’m just saying. You wanted a purpose. Well, there it is.
“What could you possibly—” His eyes widened. “You’re saying that just because she doesn’t want me in her life doesn’t mean I should leave her unprotected.”
Precisely. She’s up on Earth, all alone, with no one watching out for her. She might have her witchy friends, but I guarantee no one will protect her the way you can.
“Yes,” he breathed. “That’s it.”
He would rebuild his soul army—No, he wouldn’t build an army. Not yet, anyway. He needed a break from the screaming. He was only now adjusting to the quiet. But he would entrap a few souls, just enough to form a personal guard for Suyin. He would channel all the energy he’d once spent perfecting his spell into protecting her.
And she needed it, too. She was a Cambion, likely the only one in existence. And now that she had that information, she might tell others. And those others might betray her and tell others. Word could get out. She could be in danger.
“I’ll protect her,” he told himself and the voice in his head and the kraken out in the sea waving its tentacles. Yes, that was the sign it was trying to tell him.
Suyin might never want him again. She might never forgive him. But that didn’t matter. Because that wasn’t what love was, was it? Love was supposed to be unconditional. And since he was apparently a defective demon, he was going all-in.
If she never wanted to speak to him again, so be it. No matter what, he would make sure she was safe.Thatwould be his new objective.
Her park stalker was back.
A week passed, and Suyin cleaned her house, and her landlord begrudgingly fixed her front door. She started shifts again at Le Repaire, assuring everyone she’d had a good trip and enjoyed her time out of the city. She didn’t have the energy to tell them where she’d really been.
Every night, she checked out the front window, looking for the unmistakable silhouette of a tall, broad-shouldered man across the street. He wasn’t always there, and it became routine for her to scan the park in search of him. Then she would close the curtains, shut him out, and go to bed.
On the seventh day after Murmur left, she was walking home from Le Repaire, texting on her phone while crossing the street—not smart, she knew, but anyone who told her so could fuck right off—and she tripped, the toe of her platform boot catching on the curb when she went to step onto it.
She stumbled, throwing her other foot out to restore her balance. But it came too late. She dropped her phone, hands shooting forward to break her fall, when an invisible weight suddenly pressed against her sternum, catching her before she went down.
It lifted her and set her on her feet, and she was left standing there, looking around for the mysterious person who’d saved her from face-planting. But there was no one there.
