She felt more like her usual self than she had in some time. A knife hung at her waist, hidden beneath her cloak. She smoothed her skirts, imagining finding the demon responsible for her parents’ death, and the deaths of the servants she had grown up with. She smiled grimly, looking forward to the day when she could set Caspian’s demons upon them and shred them apart.
And then she would have her peace.
She had told Caspian that revenge was never the answer, but now … she understood. Her life had no purpose if their deaths went unanswered, if such a tragedy was allowed to be in vain.
Caspian had made her a promise—to kill her parents’ murderer. She would find him and hold him to that promise.
Finnigan stiffened beside her. “They are coming.”
She wondered if he had noticed she no longer smelled like a mortal today, and no longer smelled like prey.
Soon, the hall echoed with the sound of heavy footsteps.
Asmodeus appeared first, flanked by the princes of the Underworld and the king of darkness himself. Many of the beings who entered the hall had silver eyes, and one had bright red eyes.
Lucifer was unmistakable—broad-shouldered with deep blood red skin and red eyes like burning pits of fire. A crown of black glass rested on his head, and his presence seemed to fill the entire room.
“Lucifer,” Finnigan muttered from beside her, making her jump. The demon princes that filed in after Lucifer ranged from large and burly to small and petite. Most of them appeared humanoid, with various shades of skin ranging from blue to red, and large horns on their foreheads. Wisps of darkness caressed their legs like tendrils of night. One demon appeared different from the others—an enormous serpentine creature with a long snout, and a bulky frame supported by clawed feet. The serpentine demon was the last in the room, the fins of its tail reaching all the way to the door.
Seeing where her eyes went, Finnigan murmured, “Leviathan.”
Lucifer walked around the table with great lumbering steps, and sprawled out in the chair that Caspian usually sat in.
A sense of wrongness permeated the air, as if her very soul recoiled in the presence of the demon princes. Beside her, even Finnigan looked uneasy to be seated at the same table.
If she had seen this her first night at Caspian’s castle, she would have run screaming. How the tables had turned that these beings were now her potential allies.
Mammond and Asmodeus bowed to their king before taking their seats. She followed Finnigan’s lead, who bowed deeply beside her, and offered a deep curtsey before taking her seat. The others followed suit, bowing and then taking a place around the table.
“So, Asmodeus, this is where you have been hiding,” a gray-skinned demon said to Asmodeus, who glared in answer.
“Yes. Soon, I will have my own lodgings back, but for right now, it is just fine,” Asmodeus said through clenched teeth.
“Beelzebub,” Finnigan murmured helpfully. “He is not one of the original Fallen, but is Asmodeus’s placeholder, and ruler of the second circle until he regains his power.”
Elizabeth’s eyes lit with recognition. Asmodeus had told her earlier that he hated the demon and looked forward to the day when he got his powers back and reclaimed his title. She glanced between Asmodeus’ pained expression and Beelzebub’s smug one.
Servants swept in and placed platters of steaks, left raw and bloody, on the table, along with plates of what looked like grilled mushroom skewers and those roasted beaks that Asmodeus seemed to like.
The demons didn’t partake except for one who quickly downed his goblet of lamb’s blood and reached forward eagerly. Beelining for the roasted beaks with a greedy expression, he threw some in his mouth and munched on them.
“Belphegor,” Finnigan identified quietly as the demon pulled several plates towards himself with greedy hands.
“Mmm, roasted beaks,” Belphegor mumbled, shoving handfuls in his mouth, nibbling on a crispy skewer of mushroom. “Asmodeus, these are good, I can almost taste them.” A smile lit his features, and it would have pleased her as a hostess to see someone enjoying their food if he didn’t have such sharp teeth.
Blood dribbled down his chin as he tore into the meat.
“Don’t think I don’t know why you called this meeting, Asmodeus,” Belphegor wheezed in his direction, between bites. “He is lost. The fool wandered farinto enemy territory alone, with only a handful of lows and grossly underestimated their numbers.”
I admit I was curious regarding the invitation to Betsael’s surface residence,a voice boomed in her head. Elizabeth’s eyes went to Leviathan—the only one without vocal cords.But I do not see the benefit of us chasing Raziel in circles and losing half our forces to get one demon back.
“Do we think Raziel would win against the might of one, or even two, of our households?” Mammond asked drily.
“He has gathered more strength than we credited him with,” said a petite demon with bright red skin. “Thousands of lows and mid-level demons are at his disposal now.” The demon gave a disgruntled expression towards Belphegor, who was now starting his second plate of firebird beaks.
“Abbadon,” Finnigan supplied helpfully. “Also known as the Lady of Wrath.”
Elizabeth eyed the demon in surprise. “But I thought you said prince—”
