Zion frowns, raising an eyebrow at me. “A what?”
“You know,” I respond, my sword hand no longer pointing at Gemma’s throat so I can use it to accentuate my words. “The only way to know for sure that an enemy is dead is to cut off their head and set their body on fire?”
Zion’s frown turns into a grimace. “That’s sick. And sounds like complete overkill.”
I shrug, giving up on convincing him and releasing Gemma’s hair with a final yank. Standing, I turn to him and ask, “Then what do we do with her?”
He smiles, turning away from me with his hand outstretched. I follow his movement, my eyes widening as I take in the legion of demons filling the room. “They’ve been waiting for you.”
“Waiting for what?”
“A fair and just leader.”
I give Zion a look that has him chuckling, knowing my thoughts on his words without me having to explain myself. Because not in a million years would I have thought fair and just would coincide with a leader of Hell.
But here I am.
Stepping aside, I reveal Gemma’s crumpled form. “Secure her.”
They all move at once, and I immediately lift my hands in front of me, palms out. “Wait.”
They stop as one unit, staring up at me, waiting, so I glance at Zion, asking, “Is there a way to do this in small groups or am I always gonna have to deal with an army-type response?”
He points to the bracelets. “You can use those for more specialty type requests.”
Glancing at my adorned wrists, I say, “Am I gonna have to be precise every time I use them?”
“They’re part of you, Viv,” Zion responds patiently. “They know what to do.”
I stare at the bracelets suspiciously, wanting to accept them as an extension of myself rather than the prison they appear to be. Securing my sword, I raise my arms until my wrists are directly in front of my face, that shiny gold reflecting my truth for the very first time.
Dipping my head, I admire the sprouted horns peeking through my hair. My lips curve slightly, and then I laugh as I take in the razor-pointed edges of my teeth that my smile revealed.
I turn to Zion with a toothy smile, making sure he has a clear view of my pointed teeth as I ask, “This going to be a problem for you?”
He shakes his head, a low laugh falling from his lips as he responds, “That’s only a problem for the evil you Seek in the Dark.”
My smile falters at the reminder that the future I always had written for myself is no more. Turning back to my reflection in the gold, I straighten, lift my chin, and gently tap the bands together.
No string appears when I separate them; instead, a smaller group of demons illuminates, as if they’ve been activated from afar. This smaller group moves as one, walking toward Gemma with such purpose that I feel they’d literally walk through any interference to complete the orders given.
Gemma whines, shuffling backward as her mouth opens, but her words are cut short with one look from me, her mouth suddenly sealed shut with shiny gold. She struggles as the demons surround her, but it’s short-lived, given there are many of them and one of her.
Scooping her up, they carry her off, and I watch after them until they disappear into the shadows.
I turn to Zion, unsure of what to do next, only to find he has moved away, and is now standing by the stone thrones. I eyehim suspiciously, not wanting to do what he is clearly indicating I should.
Knowing I have little choice at this point, I slowly approach him, dragging my feet as best I can while still actively moving. He gives me a stern look, motioning to the center throne with a tilt of his head, but I stop in front of him, sure my expression is several shades of petulant as I ask, “Does this mean I’m the boss of you?”
One of his brows lifts, his eyes lowering to my lips as he responds huskily, “It’s a sliding scale.”
Chuckling lightly, I step into him, my hands gripping his sides as I lean my forehead against his jaw. His arms slide around me, gathering me close, his lips pressing against my forehead with a heavy sigh. I give myself a few moments to soak him in, to revel in the moment, before begrudgingly pulling away.
He grips my biceps with both hands, steering me around and backing me up until the backs of my legs come in contact with the cold stone. I attempt to push back, but it’s too late, and one good shove from him has me toppling backward, effectively leaving me seated.
Seated on a throne I have very little knowledge of.
A throne I’m uncertain I even want to sit on.
