“Still serving the beast.”
That was unfortunate. But then his brother had spent the entire Primus Bellum—first war of the gods—serving as one of the Malachai’s best generals. Made sense he’d still be on the wrong side.
“Do you think this is the Malachai who’ll break the cycle?”
Shadow shook his head slowly as he moved closer to Thorn’s desk. “I think this Malachai will be the worst one ever.”
“How so?”
“His mother was a demon.”
Thorn sucked his breath in sharply between his teeth. Ouch. “How is that even possible?”
“Ask your father. He’s the one who sent her in to attack Adarian’s father.”
Thorn cursed under his breath. Of course he was.
This was an awful turn of events. And it was the last thing mankind needed. A Malachai birthed by a demon. “Guess you’re here to figure out what your mother and my dad have planned for our new king of demons.”
Confirmation burned in Shadow’s eyes. “A little backup would be nice.”
Great. “Inviting me to the suicide, huh?”
“No one I’d rather jump into the pit with than you.”
“I do have a sister, you know? Why don’t you ever bother her?”
“I’d rather walk into battle with scorpions strapped to my groin than hold a single conversation with Laguerre.”
Thorn flinched at the thought. Although, to be honest, he understood that sentiment as well. “Should I grab my armor and sword, or just wing it?”
“It’ll be easier to run away without the extra weight.”
Stifling a snort, Thorn gave him a droll stare. “I don’t run.”
“Good to know. I’ll shove you at the enemy as I make my escape.”
It figured. But at least he knew where he stood where Shadow was concerned. “So why do I put up with you again?” Thorn asked.
“I’m entertaining. Now c’mon. I don’t have all … day or night or whatever it is here.”
Thorn would correct him, but honestly, he didn’t know either. The worst part about Azmodea was the lack of sunlight. There was no way to tell the time.
Shadow opened a portal for them, so that they could easily access their parents’ dreary castle without trudging there like human pedestrians.
They stepped out of the shadows into an eerily quiet residence. Weird. Normally, there was at least one or two demons screaming in agony.
Today, nothing. Tomblike.
Exchanging scowls, they looked about.
“Where is everyone?” Shadow asked.
“How would I know?”
“You visit here more than I do.”
Thorn gave him a gimlet stare. “Not in the last thousand years or so. I tend to avoid it.”
