Page 33 of Veiled By Smoke (The Nature Hunters Academy #5)
“People think they go unnoticed in this world by evil. Little do they know that they are being watched. The more good they do, the more the evil wants them. The ones who are minding their own business and not bothering to help anyone, those people we don’t give a damn about.” ~ Lucifer
“H er name is Aurora,” the little demon stuttered as he shivered, standing before Lucifer. He pictured drop-kicking him across the room just to hear the sniveling runt squeal, but then he wouldn’t get the information he needed.
“Why is this Aurora important?” Lucifer asked, his voice sounding bored even to him.
He was bored. Waiting on news, waiting on the next thing to happen was boring as hell.
Which made no sense because hell should not be boring, not with all the torturing and wailing.
But, alas, he was bored. No wonder Osiris had left.
He felt his anger rise at the thought of his imposter thrown fillers name.
Now that was a male he wanted to drop-kick, over and over again, after ripping his entrails from his body.
“Quit stuttering,” Crecious’s voice interrupted Lucifer’s daydream. “How do you expect him to want to listen to you if you’re just spitting out words that don’t make sense?”
The little demon glared at Crecious. Demons rarely got along. They were demons after all–selfish, power hungry, and well, evil. Evil wasn’t exactly agreeable.
“The soul bonded speaks of her,” the little demon finally said without shaking quite so badly.
“She is the sister of someones important, someones named Rory. And then I heards to the dark acolytes speak of her and they saids King Viscious would wants the girl. So I’s thoughts that if he would wants her, then maybes you would wants her. ”
Where did demons go to school, Lucifer asked himself as he watched the creepy little messenger.
Or did they just come into existence not knowing how to use correct grammar?
Crescious didn’t talk quite as badly–typically Lucifer could understand everything he said.
But some of the others . . . he felt like he needed a damn interpreter, or that he was just getting dumber listening to them speak.
“Viscious wants her?” he asked, not really speaking to the demon.
His mind was turning as he considered this information, no matter how ill-explained it was.
Lucifer made a decision and made a motion for the two demons to leave him.
He heard a hiss and then the little demon say, “ous don’t have to poke me with yours tail. ”
Lucifer leaned back in his throne and closed his eyes. He’d tried this a couple of times and had been able to slip into Osiris’s mind, but this time he was going to look for information. It might work, or Osiris might sense Lucifer and block him.
He let himself slip into a trance and drew magic and power from the underworld around him.
He felt the leftover essence of Osiris and reached for that same thread through the gap that had been made in the gate.
The darkness that had fled through the gate while it had been opened had left a fissure.
It was small but it was enough. It gave Lucifer’s mind a path to follow, all the way to Osiris’s mind which was no longer in the underworld.
He felt the wall and easily pushed past it.
It didn’t take long, sifting through the soul-bonded king’s mind to find out who Aurora was.
Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he whispered, “You will never be free of this place. The darkness is absolute. It will cling to your soul for all eternity and you will forever fight the need to return. Enjoy your reprieve, false king; it won’t last.” He felt Osiris’s soul stir and slipped out of his mind before the king could wake.
His eyes opened as he considered the information he’d learned about Aurora.
A baby left in the world all by herself.
More than likely she has a torn soul and doesn’t even know it.
How could she? She probably has no clue about the magical world around her or how vulnerable she is, especially with his hellions on the loose.
She needed a guide. She needed someone who could help her grow into her potential.
Not Viscious, not Osiris and his mate or their merry band of do-gooders.
No. Aurora needed someone powerful who could make her powerful.
He smiled. “It’s a good thing I’m so generous.
I can share all of my knowledge with her.
” He tapped his chin and considered how he could get through to her.
He needed a path to her mind. Lucifer continued to go over all of Osiris’s memories.
Suddenly he slapped his thigh, “That’s it,” he exclaimed, causing the souls along the wailing wall to scream.
“Ra. The baby pharaoh.” He was apparently going to elect himself Aurora’s protector or some shit.
It just so happened that Lucifer had access to Ra’s ancestors, and by default, Ra.
“RAMSES,” he roared knowing his voice would travel all throughout hell.
“I need to see you. Now.” He rubbed his hands together as he stood from his throne and kicked a soul that was dragging himself on the floor, his head thrown back with a wail of agony.
“Shut-up,” Lucifer snapped. “You’re interrupting my thinking. ”
Ten minutes later, which was ten minutes too long, Ramses walked into the throne room. He still looked every bit the king he had been when he’d been alive. Hell didn’t seem to affect the royals of the Egyptian line the same way it did the rest of his people.
He turned as the air shifted behind him, heavy with ancient power.
Ramses stepped from the gloom, his presence as regal and cold as ever, a king who had once commanded the Nile, who had bargained with gods and outlived them all.
His eyes burned with secrets, with curses, with the pride of a lineage that would never truly die.
“Lucifer.” Ramses’s voice was sand and steel, unbending, but Lucifer heard the tremor, the hunger that was never quite sated. “You summoned me.”
Lucifer’s smile widened. He sat on a throne of shadow and bone, and gestured to the empty dais beside him. “Old friend. Old enemy. The line blurs, does it not? Sit. There is work to do.”
Ramses remained standing, chin high. “I am no one’s servant.”
Lucifer clucked his tongue at the once great king.
“Perhaps not a servant, but you are not your own. Not anymore. You and the rest of your people gave up your freedom when you foolishly worshipped death. What did you think would happen when you revered the so-called god of the underworld? But that is neither here nor there.” He strode around Ramses in a wide arc, a lion circling his prey.
“You have something I need, and since you really don’t have a choice, regardless of whether you think you are a servant or not, I will take what I need.
Or you can give it willingly, and I won’t increase the suffering of your people. Your choice.”
Ramses’s lips curled, half sneer, half challenge. “My people are forever trapped in hell. It is the epitome of suffering. They burn over and over again. There is nothing more you can do to them. So, you wish to use me. Why should I make it easy?”
Lucifer let his power roll out, a suffocating wave that pressed on the pharaoh’s bones.
“Because your descendant walks the world above, and through him, your legacy endures. Ra, the golden one, bearer of your blood, is close to the key I seek. He has made a bargain in order to keep from being sent here when he leaves the mortal world. Considering this is my domain, I control that bargain. I can easily make it go away. Poof,” he snapped his fingers. “Just like that. I need a conduit.”
Ramses hesitated, pride and protection for his distant heir warring in his gaze. “And what do I gain? Ra might not spend eternity here, but me and my people do.”
Lucifer circled until he was standing directly in front of Ramses, his form flickering between beautiful and monstrous, every angle both invitation and threat.
“I will give you dominion here. Souls to command. A kingdom beneath the sand, as above. And should the gates open wide, you will be the first to walk the earth again, crowned in shadow and flame. Mind you, I cannot give you life, but I can let your soul out.” It was a load of crock.
He was the devil, after all. What did his word mean?
Nothing. Lying was his superpower. Dangling the carrot in front of the one willing to give everything away for something they think they want was Lucifer’s speciality.
Along with masquerading as an angel of light.
Figuratively speaking. He wouldn’t dare, actually, look like one of those ridiculous holy rollers.
The pharaoh’s greed won, or maybe he honestly did think he was doing something for his people.
But here, in his domain, Lucifer could see the motivation of the souls that belonged to him.
It was not hidden–Ramses’s true motivation, no matter what he wanted Lucifer to see.
The pharaoh extended his arm, baring the old scars of a hundred rituals. “Do it.”
Lucifer’s nails were talons, slicing effortlessly through skin.
Blood welled, black-red, fragrant with ancient magic and the memory of sun-baked stone.
He offered his own wrist, a shimmering dark ichor, poisonous and irresistible.
Their blood mingled, the magic binding, ancient words spoken in a tongue both men remembered from their first deaths.
Heat seared the air. The river of souls howled.
Lucifer pressed his palm to Ramses’s chest, feeling the man’s power coil around his own, the bond snapping into place with a sickening pleasure. “We are joined,” Lucifer whispered, and the words were law. “Show me the path. Open the door.”