I lift my chin, straighten my shoulders, look him dead in the eyes. “A devil doesn’t bargain.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
ILLUSIONS
Zion
Well, that sucked.
I would say that this is the part of the story where hindsight kicks in, and we realize that maybe a little bit more of the backstory would have been good for the new girl.
Because I’m certain that at this point, or at least the point where she felt me being eviscerated and then garroted and then disappeared into nowhere, she may have been losing her shit. Not that I necessarily want to be where I am now. Literally in Hell. With probably one of the nastiest bitches I’m ever likely to meet.
I think what makes her even more vile is that she held one over on Vivian for so long. But that’s what mirage demons do. They cajole you into a certain level of familiarity, counting on these false bonds to continuously hide less than pleasant intentions. And this feat is easier to accomplish the longer you spend around someone. That’s likely why many people find the nastiest amongst their own relations.
Though I can’t for the life of me figure out how Vivian could have missed the outright duplicitousness of Gemma. It simplyoozes out of her pores. I’m actually surprised she doesn’t have scales with what a slippery snake she is.
What’s funny, though, is that there’s a good chance that Vivian may still try to make excuses for her. Unless Cornelius decided to shove the truth down her throat sideways. Also, highly probable.
I will admit without an inkling of a doubt that I zero out of ten do not recommend being choked with a flaming hot piece of wire. And her little horde of demon friends, who managed to get a jump on me and render me immobile, had the same kind of poisonous effects as a Komodo dragon. I can still feel where their hands and that wire branded me, and even though I know those marks will fade, it’s unlikely it will fade from my memory anytime soon.
More annoying than all is the fact that she’s tried to dupe me several times with Vivian imposters. While it’s easy for her to clone Vivian’s outward appearance, the one thing she can’t clone is our bond. Eventually, Vivian, Cornelius, and likely Jacob will come for me, and through this bond, I will know instantly when she makes the jump. I just have to pretend I don’t.
I’m also sure one of the reasons why these secrets ended up so deeply buried within Vivian’s mind is because of Gemma. She has done everything within her power throughout Vivian’s life to keep her in check. And I wish I could say that it was only demons that act like this. Sadly, a decent percentage of humans tend to fall into this same category—users and abusers willing to step on anyone they have to in order to get what they want.
Another Vivian copycat appears. She runs toward me, and I can confess that the likeness is disconcerting. A small part of me wants to feed into it if only for a moment. But then, the closer she gets, the stronger my soul rejects the idea. I temper my outward reaction, not wanting my deep disgust to be noticed by Gemma. If she knew how negatively it affected me, she woulddouble down in a heartbeat, flood this room with impostor versions in the hopes of driving me mad.
And eventually it would.
I press my back against the wall, sliding down until I’m seated with my knees raised, my arms braced in a defensive yet still relaxed position. A few more Vivians appear and disappear in a cyclical manner as if they’re trying to gauge my specific reactions with each one.
Then the temperature drops slightly, a wave of negative pressure energy washing over me. My grimace is automatic. “There’s no point in trying to hide.”
A low chuckle emits from the far corner, drawing my gaze. And after a moment, her form appears, serpentine as it may be.
Slowly, she exits the shadows, her movements almost catlike, languid, and intentional. Gemma is an attractive woman, but it is an appeal that’s only skin deep. I feel bad for those who can’t see beyond her outward appearance. She counts on unsuspecting fools drawn in by her outward appearance and, in turn, blinded by the evilness that resonates inside her.
Stopping in front of me, she kneels down, and when her fingertips stroke over my forearm lightly, I barely manage not to throw her off of me. “Please, do not touch me.”
Her hand falls away, and she cocks her head at me. “I can make you, you know.”
“I know,” I reply evenly, not wanting her to get any ideas but also wanting to make the end result of this to be clear, I add, “But you’d be wasting your time. Even if my bond with Vivian hadn’t been confirmed, you can’t force bonds where they don’t belong.”
Her eyes narrow, and her lip curls. “But what if I break it?”
I laugh and shake my head. “You know that’s impossible.”
She raises a brow at me, her smile turning smug. “But there are ways.”
A shiver runs down my spine, the look in her eye gleeful, so I respond slowly, “You know better than to attempt to disrupt the intended order of things, Gemma.”
The smile drops from her face, and she rolls her eyes petulantly. When she says nothing, I continue, “Sure, there are ways to break bonds and break people. There are ways to eliminate angels and demons. There are many ways to fracture a reality and splice together a new one of your own making. But you know how that always ends.”
“Maybe I don’t care.”
“I know you don’t care. You were born into evil, unlike those pushed into it by circumstance. You’re designed to wreak havoc and mayhem. You take great pleasure in breaking things and leaving things ruined.”
With each word out of my mouth, her smile broadens as if she’s proud to know she’s a destructor, which is par for the course, really. A narcissist’s claim to fame is as the chronic victim. While they may not be the biggest threat in today's society, they’re certainly the biggest nuisance.
