In retrospect, he should have known by the way her eyes darkened that she was plotting his demise that night. But his thoughts had been on the fact that her gown had dipped low enough to expose the top swell of her breasts. And on the fact that her hair teased the creamy crest of it. The fact that if she leaned forward just a bit more, or sneezed, she’d most likely spill out of her gown completely.…
I was such a fool.
His own parents had been incapable of showing him even a modicum of affection. Why had he thought for even a heartbeat that a Deruvian bitchington would be any better?
He’d been nothing more than a tool for her. A weapon she’d used to strike back at her own enemies.
Devyl blinked as he forced himself to return to the present and to the fire, where he cut the heart from the last of the demons for his supper, taking care to save its blood, and then threw it to the fire.
That was all he’d ever been to anyone. A stupid pawn.
Even Elf, really. While he liked to pretend that his sister had loved him, in his more melancholic moments he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps she was no less self-serving than everyone else he’d known. Maybe even she’d seen him as nothing more than her mindless tool to be manipulated at her whims.
Just a rabid attack dog Elf had set loose on those she didn’t like.
In her meaner moments, it had been something Edyth had frequently taunted him with when they were children. A vicious, cold insult she’d known wounded him to the core of his worthless, black soul.
And Vine. She’d taken a sick, vicious pleasure in telling him that he had no other use in the world.
You’re nothing, Duel. Just a cold killer incapable of feeling anything more than the sword you hold. The only warmth you know is the blood you spill. Face it, they might proclaim you a king, but at the end of the day, you’re nothing more than a servant to the blood-hunger inside you. A mindless animal forever seeking a comfort you were never born to know. You trust no one. Not even yourself.
Throwing his head back, Devyl let loose a cry of bitter agony and grief. A cry born of utter loneliness as he drank from the demonic blood he’d spilled.
Just once in his life he wanted to know what it felt like to be cherished. To be desired. To be touched by a tender hand. Not because he was a weapon or tool.
Because he was loved.
You’re still a futtocking idiot.
And he was old enough to know better. Love was for women and children.
He was a creature of vengeance and hatred. It was all he’d ever been, and all he’d ever be. Vine was right. Not even friendship came to the likes of him.
I am the Devyl’s Bane.
There was no need to fight destiny, because sooner or later that bitch always came and took whatever she wanted. And his destiny was darkness and pain.
Accept what you are and be done with it.
There was no need to fight destiny. Not when he was the hand it’d chosen to be its executioner.
* * *
“Are you all right, child?”
Cameron jumped at the soft tone of Marcelina’s voice as she walked up behind her in the galley. “Sorry. Aye.” She pursed her lips and scowled. “Sort of.” Blinking, she met Mara’s gaze. “Are you all right, mum?”
Mara pulled a cup from the shelf where Cameron had taken one down just a moment before. “Like you, I’m a bit shaken by the day’s occurrences. Not used to dealing with demonic children. There’s something profoundly wrong with that entire concept.”
“Aye, indeed. Says much for what we’re up against that they’d stoop so low.” She handed Mara the rum. “Your sister, is it?”
She nodded. “Not as innocent as I wanted to think.” Mara took a drink, wishing she could stop remembering a few disturbing truths that she’d been trying her best to keep buried. Yet in spite of her best efforts, they wouldn’t stay chained.
Rat bastard things …
“What devil lives in that grimace? And don’t be saying the captain. I’m beginning to know ye better, me lady.”
Mara snorted at the lass, who was a bit too astute for her own good. “I’m just thinking … there’s a disease among my people that comes from the misuse of our magick. One that causes our hearts to shrivel and petrify into a hard stone.”
