IX

“So you’re telling me that, Castors—”

“Not Castors. Demons whores that pimp their souls out for power.” Sauda stands over Maddox, looking at him for any weird signs.

“Probably Pop’s little whores,” Adorna growls sitting in a corner of the room staring at Sauda’s dad, standing six feet tall in all black, leaning against the wall in the middle of the room, smiling and staring at all of them.

“Oh no, my lovely succubus, not mine.” He holds up his hands, “I have a different bargain.”

“I am not yours—”

“Anymore.”

“Enough,” Sauda spits, lifting an eyebrow at them both.

“So,” Maddox continues, “People of unknown origin, who have sold their souls for magic, ambushed us, and took Ashleigh and Shaw?”

Sauda looks at him, shrugs, and nods.

“And this man... Demon, is your father who just mysteriously showed up, freed and healed me?”

“Aren’t I just generous?” Comes her father’s dark chuckle.

“No, old man,” Sauda says, looking over to him, “you are not.” Adorna stands up, glaring at the tall ebony pillar, and walks around to flank Sauda.

“Andras—”

“It’s rude to call your parents by their first name.”

“Andras, Great Marquis of Hell, the act of reviving this man was not a bargain made of tongue, pen or blood. We do not owe you anything.”

The warm beige walls were bare and low soft cushions lined the walls all around their room. The most intricate design of reds, browns, and yellows decorated the covers and pillows and the carpet. If it wasn’t crisis mode, Sauda would have marveled at the Yemeni style living room, but with them still recovering, Sauda can only take a mental note to add this all to her Pinterest later while she checks the number of exits and windows. They had cleared the other rooms when they first came in.

Andras walks to a corner, his gait like a big cat stalking prey. He sits and stretches out as far as his long legs would and looks to Sauda with his elbow cocked up and his head resting on his hand.

Sauda stands in the corner opposite her father, keeping a close eye on the shut door. Maddox sits a little way from the center of the back wall of the room, staring at Andras as if he grew a second head on top of his other otherworldly features. Dix lays unconscious across the cushions with Malik sitting near his head keeping watch. Two enormous wolves, the size of Twilight’s wolves lay in the middle of the room. A dark ash one looking at Sauda, another sandy brown one laying on its back snuggled up to the other.

“So, he’s your dad,” Maddox says, nodding toward Andras. “And he’s your familiar.”

Samuel Dean glances at Maddox, ruffs, and lays his head on top of the sandy wolf. “And Kettlewell shifted into a wolf, because?”

“They like to cuddle,” Adorna smiles at the Major before going back to glare at Andras. “If I wasn’t so pissed, I’d be there too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sauda says, waving a hand and sitting down, “we all love puppy piles. Why are you here Dad?”

Andras looks to his daughter, and his shoulders stiffen. His smile stretches over his face, but his silver eyes stay dim. “I may have.. broken a cardinal rule.” His jaw clenches. “And I owe you a boon.”

“Oh really? And what have you done for me to get such a wonderful gift from you?” Sauda smiles. She knew, from spending her summers in her father’s domain, that Hell has to freeze over for him to owe anyone a boon. Literally, he could make his house freeze when he’s that angry, and owing anyone makes him furious.

Adorna stands straighter, Wolf-Jordan turns over unto his belly, and even Samuel Dean pays attention with his head slightly tilted. Receiving a boon from a demon is not something one takes lightly.

“I am the reason they know you’re here.”

“You… you sold me out!?!”

A whine comes from one pup as Sauda shoots up and steps towards her father. Adorna grabs the fold of her arm to hold her back, and Sauda instantly stops. Even with the heightened strength that Sauda had, Adorna was ten times stronger and could hold her in place without breaking a sweat. Sauda knew Adorna wouldn’t stop her but Sauda practiced restraint, anyway. Samuel Dean lays his head down and places one paw over his snout.

“Is that bad?” Maddox asks. He sits back, looking back and forth between everyone in the room.

“One of the worst,” Adorna growls, “even demons have rules. Sure, you can make deals with other Demons behind others' backs and betray your kin, but not to Humans. Never to Humans. That’s how the Church grew into power and started witch hunts. Or don’t you remember, Andras? All the Castors who died? The Fae? the shifters?”

“And that goes for half-demons too?” Maddox asks.

Sauda smiles and leans against Adorna, resting her arm across the tiny succubus’ shoulder. “Oh, yeah. Five boons you owe me, old man.”

Maddox sits up a little straighter with a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Then... didn’t he technically betray Adorna too?”

“Watch your mouth, boy.”

In the flash of an eye, wings sprout from Andras’ back. Ash gray and black feathers mix in together, leaving his fallen angel wings looking sinister. They extended to frame him as he stands, filling up his side of the room.

“He’s right, Dad.”

Andras growls at Maddox but sits back down. He puts his knees up and rests his arms on them both. His wings retract, framing his shoulders, but he keeps them out.

“Ten boons, my lord.”

Maddox scrambles to his feet and away from where Samuel Dean and Jordan, falling on his butt and scooting backward. Adorna and Sauda both look towards him as Sauda’s familiar sits up and back on his hind legs.

“Didn’t I tell you he could speak?” Sauda asks.

Maddox says nothing, just stares at Samuel Dean. Andras looks to Sauda with raised eyebrows.

“He just learned about demons, shapeshifters, and magick. Talking animals may be too much for him.”

“I am no animal,” Samuel Dean snuffs.

“Ah,” Andras says, relaxing and spreading his wings more comfortably, “let’s get this over with before I get too many lines in my Gucci suit. Let’s have it. Five for Sauda, five for Adorna.”

“Why are you wearing Gucci, anyway?” Sauda asks him, “There is a reason we’re boycotting them. Stop giving your money to companies that act like they don’t know what racism is.”

“Is this a boon?”

“No,” Sauda sighs, rubbing the pain from between her eyebrows. It seems this headache is a constant whenever her father is around, whether they’re fighting or bonding.

“Okay. I understand it’s important to you.” Demons, even in the infernal domains, care about social justice. They have a hierarchy that is constantly changing between prince and pauper, but Demons don’t discriminate against other demon races. Prejudices, sure, but they made it a law to never do more than think about it. Demons were equal opportunity destruction.

“My first one,” Adorna smiles at Andras. She leans forward, eyes squinting and lips tightening. “For every boon, you owe Sauda and me, you won’t use any loopholes.”

“That’s the best part. Being cheeky is my trademark.”

“I thought it was causing and feeding off of rage,” his daughter says. Sauda’s birth was an outcome of her father’s trademark.

“Yes,” he says, “boon accepted.”

“Our target,” Sauda continues, “is Báthory Adorján. What is he doing here in Yemen that my government would want to send me here?”

Maddox leans up and yells. “Aish! Shouldn’t we be asking him to heal Dix?”

Sauda looks over to where Dix lays unconscious and sweating, taking shallow breaths. Malik looks at her and then back to Clinton, keeping watch over his friend.

“They were so quiet, I forgot they were there,” Adorna shrugs.

“He’s not dying,” Samuel Dean grunts, “I can smell that much.”

Sauda could too. He had a smell to him, but it wasn’t the smell that says death was knocking on his door. Sauda knew that smell very well.

Sauda looks at Maddox and can see the red filling up his face. Smoke was practically blowing out of his ears. “We will. Promise. Boons are rare and precious—”

“And Dix’s life is not? Is this what it means to be other. You value other things over human life. Well, I am human, and I say it comes first.”

Sauda flinches and fights back a growl. She’s always been “other” her whole life, but this was the first time an ally thought of her as not human, though there hadn’t been many full null allies.

“To answer your question Daughter,” Andras smiles at them all, ready to feed off the rage Maddox was throwing out. “Adrian Bathory is a man who always seems to be in the middle of every major conflict. Wherever there is chaos, you will find him. Wars cost money, and Adrian has it. As far as Yemen, he has both sides of this war in his pockets, selling secrets and pitting them against each other, just for the fun of it. Your government probably wants to know how he got into power and why. They might even be clued into the fact that he’s been a major player for the past 500 years.”

“500 years? “

“Maybe, maybe not,” Andras smiles.

“You’re being awfully helpful,” Adorna says, putting her arm around Sauda, “So unlike you, O’ Great Marquis.”

“I don’t enjoy owing boons,” Andras spits, “and I betrayed my only daughter—”

“Only half-human daughter. I have tons of siblings.”

“Ah yes,” Andras leans forward resting his hand on his knees, “Adorna and I alone gave you six succubus sisters.”

“Seven. That was the worst 72-day marriage of my life.”

“You had seven kids... in seventy-two days?” Malik asks.

Maddox rubs the wrinkle between his eyes and sighs, trying to release some of his frustration and Sauda can feel everything going off track.