“So,” the succubus says, pressing herself to my arm. She’s much shorter than I am, but that’s easy. Most people around here are. Demons aren’t notorious for being immense creatures, but the Dark Lord blessed me with height. She has to tilt her head all the way back to meet my eyes. “I heard your father was looking for you. Mind if I tag along?”
I release a deep, ridiculously long sigh. The sort that makes everyone around us shoot me a glance. Turning to face the succubus, I pluck my arm away from hers, then grip her shoulders.
“Listen.” I could call her by her name, but why would I lose such a golden opportunity of showing I don’t care? “This might shock you, but I don’t care who you are or what you want. Did my father send you after me?”
She pouts. At least she won’t pretend to have wounded feelings. We all know succubi don’t have feelings, period. “He did, but...”
“That’s all I care about. Where is he?”
She tells me the direction,and I make my way there, ignoring her calls. I chug the rest of the bubbly drink and leave the glass over a fancy mantelpiece. Probably rare marble or some shit like that. The Devil loves to show off. I hope the glass leaves a stain.
My father is where he was supposed to be, but I can’t pretend the sight of him brings me relief. Loving parents are not an exception in the Abyss, but mine only got together out of convenience. Selfish interest moves not only demons, I’ve heard. Humans are notoriously talented at starting wars and destroying their environment out of self-interest and greed. It’s common sense that humans are only good for some fun—they’re demons, without the horns.
Approaching the circle of people, I stand next to my father and put on my presentableface. It gets harder and harder to pretend I enjoy these festivities, the false smiles, the sycophancy. Father pretends surprise at seeing me, then grips me around an elbow to manhandle me to his side. He goes on, chatting with his so-called friends, introducing me to people I’ll force myself to forget. There’s nothing more boring than a bunch of people pretending they enjoy each other’s company when I know they’re all dying to latch onto each other’s throats.
Wouldn’t that be a sight? At least amusing.
The nonsensical chat makes my mind wander. It’s the kind of idleness that makes it obvious how different Father and I are. The Underworld and the Abyss have become a place for politics and backstabbing, and while I despise that, he thrives in a place like this. I look over my shoulder at the balcony nearby. The Underworld glitters near the palace, but it’s the shadows in the distance that make me want to escape. To escape and explore. Nothing would give me more freedom than that. If only I had a sign. Any sort of sign...
I would run away from this place and seek the freedom I deserve without a second thought.
CHAPTER7
CASSANDRA
Running seems to have become a sort of theme in my life. It all started with running after the Light Mage, then running from the authorities, the Collector, and Kayn. It feels like I’ve spent all my time running these past weeks. Even in death, here I am, pumping my arms at my sides, darting my gaze up and down. And this time, it wasn’t even me who did the murdering.
I keep my breath locked into my lungs as Oreo and I make another run for it. At least I don’t go out of breath every two minutes, because I’ve been running non-stop for what feels like hours now. We keep it low, squatting against walls and half-broken columns, but the reapers are onto us. They know we’re using the ruins to hide. They know where I’m going.
And they’re not happy we’ve been dodging them. It’s not my fault my pet hellhound conceals my presence somehow.
“Hold on,” I call to Oreo in a hush, reaching out for him. He stops, halting next to me. There are too many reapers up ahead. Not only do their voices rise in question, in doubt, but they’re not bothering to conceal themselves anymore.
They’re out for blood. My blood.
I drop against the wall, sliding to the ground. This is so unfair. I’m still in my black tank top and pants, but I don’t have my powers. Yeah, okay, I’d rather have my hands back—hands are so useful—but my powers would help me so much right now. Not only have I learned to wield them, but now I understand they’re an essential part of me. A part that was muted for years, but a part of me, nonetheless.
If only I had them now, I could try what Nancy told me. Being part of the shadows and walking through them would save my ass. I could slink past all these reapers and appear right next to the portal. They would only have the time to curse me before I left.
Looking up, I gaze at my goal. The huge hurricane of colors and shadows reaching up into the sky, the one explosion of color in this strange black-and-white world. Heavily protected. Impossible to reach. The one place I should not be rushing toward.
The one place I need to go.
I swallow hard, my hands sinking into Oreo’s black fur. He sits on his haunches, peering up at me. Waiting. My heart beats double time inside my chest,and I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tight. He’s always been good with me, with us. Even though I never forced him to stay, he just did. And he came after me when I thought I’d be alone.
“You know,” I whisper at him, “this is going to be dangerous. I don’t know what’s going to happen if we’re caught.”
Oreo cocks his head, then tugs me onward. I can’t help but smile. He doesn’t care how dangerous this is going to be—he’s sticking with me to the very end, whatever the end might be.
“Alright.” And I chuckle. “Let’s do it. It’s the last stretch.”
Staying in that squatted run, we dodge between broken walls, using the ruins to reach the very edge of this once city. I kneel on the ground, putting a hand next to my leg. The ground is made of hewn stone, like the walls and columns, but covered in a thick layer of sand. I can’t help but wonder if this city was destroyed by the reapers. The guy Oreo attacked looked aggressive enough to do something like that.
I shoot a look up at the hurricane. Between it and us, there’s only a stretch of nothing now. Just a field of sand. No houses, no ruins for us to hide. I chew on my bottom lip. Across the darkness, I see the small figures passing back and forth. Pacing. Waiting for me.
They know I’m coming here, like all the others who tried to escape. I wonder if anyone has ever made it. I wonder if the reapers are used to it by now.
My heart shooting to my throat, I rise from the squat and get ready to run. There’s no way around it. We’ll have to make a mad dash to the hurricane and jump in. No time to think about what happens on the other side and what I’ll do without my hands. If I’ll get them back with my powers or not. There’s only time to run.