Page 19 of As Above, So Below

She stares at me, her eyes pleading as she edges toward the ledge of the stair. But she doesn’t step down. Why? What is keeping her there?

“You, my beautiful daughter, you will change the realms,” she says softly. “And I will help you along the way.”

Blinded by hellfire, I turn my face away from the scalding heat—hellfire has never burned me before. In the same heartbeat, a massive taloned hand wraps around the back of my neck and jerks me toward the flames.

As the god of death emerges from the portal, stepping into the living realm, he shoves me behind him through the gateway to the hells. Tripping over my own feet, I stumble and fall, landing hard onto my knees on the polished obsidian floor. Head whirling over my shoulder, what little I can see of the living realm reveals the crowd lurching into chaos, screams rising. With a dark laugh, Netharis snaps his fingers and the portal cinches shut.

Peering at my hands pressed against the floor, my talons have returned.

Returned to the hells and left in Netharis’ dark study. A gaping pit opens in the bottom of my stomach as I wait for my father’s return.

It shouldn’t feel wrong to have come back.

But it does.

CHAPTER FOUR

I wasn’t leftalone with my spiraling thoughts and consuming fear for long.

In a swirl of hellfire, Netharis appears—seated in his plush, high-backed chair behind his desk. At the same time, hundreds of black candles burst alive with flame, casting the study in dancing light.

Shelves filled with black leather-bound books, stacks of various-sized obsidian boxes in every corner, mounds of papers, scrolls and open chests filled with trinkets are revealed. A macabre collection of preserved creatures under domes of glass line the topmost shelves. They stare down with unseeing eyes.

Pixies, gnomes, pseudodragons, faedragons…

All once immortal beings from the living realm. Creatures Netharis hunted or contracted mortals to hunt to extinction—because no living entity should escape death. The study is reminiscent of the library, and in near the same state of disarray. But this room doesn’t hold the same respite as the library.

No.

Invitations to this room are best avoided.

Keeping my eyes lowered, I force myself to stand.

Will I simply be lectured? Or will it escalate to being berated and beaten?

I canfeelhis stare as I keep my gaze lowered and my mouth shut.

He sighs.

“Whatever she told you, I can guarantee it’s not the whole of the matter,” he says, his voice low.

Her words about changing the realms ring in my mind. She musthave me mistaken for someone else. I’m not capable of any such feat. Nor would I want to be.

“She pulled me into the living realm,” I say, my voice trembling.

“No, she did not,” he counters, his tone sharp.

Irritation flares to life in my veins. “I know what I saw, what I felt,” I match his tone. “Thingsyouinsist are imposs—”

“Enough, Vestaris!” he bellows, slamming his hands down on his desk as he bolts upright. “Celesta is not the benevolent creature she presents herself as.”

I flinch as my eyes race to his, my jaw clenching.

He’s returned to his human glamour.

Gone is the towering creature mortals and demons alike fear, replaced with the visage of a man. Styled, dark hair, finely chiseled features, ivory skin. His wings remain on display, the only indication he’s not human. Constructed of sinew, bone, and membrane-thin flesh, they loom behind him, folded against his back. He dons a black button down shirt, left mostly open, the collar and cuffs featuring red Malbolge rune embroidering.

Our House brand.