A Demon Made Me Do It(8)

“Where are they?” I demand. No need to say who ‘they’ are; she knows exactly who I’m talking about.

She swirls her hands through the pot’s murky waters. A cool steam rises up over her serene, ageless face. “The Amazèa have left our realm and are now safely within the territory of the Belith tribe. As you are strictly forbidden to cross over to their lands, tonight you have another task—”

“Wait…Hold up. What? What do you mean they left?” I feel like someone just whacked me in the gut with a troll-hammer. “They just got here a few weeks ago…”

“I do not know…Perhaps they knew they were being followed. Perhaps they were called away. Nevertheless, you know you cannot hunt outside the territory, especially in one protected by such a hostile clan. You must bide your time until the Amazèa return. For now, there are two humans in need of a visit. They both agreed to exchange favor with an Uliminiti demon for power and riches. One man will soon be elected a state senator, and the other is an actor who will win a major award. Both are home and alone, so there will be minimal conflict.”

I stare at Tatiana, my mouth agape. Surely, she’s not serious. I’m gearing up for slaying and demon carnage and she wants me to go toll collecting? And not even from some low-level demons, but pitiful Sapies? So not cool, and not even in my job-description. As an Aequitas demon, it’s my duty to torment and inflict Justice on those who deserve it. I’m good at my job. I like my job. Extorting money from greedy Sapies is Tatiana’s deal; she just uses me as the muscle. I admit, I enjoy it sometimes. I get a kick out of seeing the Sapie’s faces when I announce who I am and why I’m here…

But not tonight. Tonight the only creatures I’m interested in tormenting are the evil monsters who murdered my best friends—right before they cast their wicked spell that split my precious soul in two.

I’ve been so patient. Not that I’ve really had much of a choice. I’ve thought of little besides revenge every night for the past five years. Five years, four months, six days and two hours to be exact. But the creatures I sought have always been out of my reach, for I’m restrained by the jurisdiction of my tribe’s influence and the unnatural limitations on my time.

But finally, after all this time—after years of training, plotting, waiting, seething… finally, the Amazèa had returned to my hunting grounds. The end to my nightmare was in sight. I would kill them once and for all, lift the curse that binds me to the night, and deliver Justice for my fallen friends.

Now Tatiana is telling me the Amazèa have just up and left?

“I don’t believe you.” My voice shakes with thinly restrained fury. “You just don’t want me hunting them. You’re just afraid that—”

“I never lie, Lucky. You, of all beings, know that. I admit I disapprove of your perilous quest, but I will not try to stop you. Justice is the essence of your existence, and I cannot deny that. This path is yours and yours alone, and you are well aware of the consequences. But for now, I can assure you the Amazèa are no longer within your range,” Tatiana says quietly.

I clench my teeth and glare at her. What’s that expression about not killing the messenger?

But I know she’s not lying. If she says they’re gone—they’re gone. And there’s nothing I can do about it. For now.

This is all Liora’s fault. If she didn’t turn into a stupid Sapie, rendering me impotent from dawn to dusk, I’d have caught the Amazèa by now. In bitter silence I fume while Tatiana gives me the details for the night’s assignment, only half-hearing what she’s saying. When she’s done, I storm out of our cabin and into the brisk night air. Pulling my hood over my head, I let out a sharp whistle.

The clomping of hooves sound as the Arabian stallion emerges from his place in the shadows. He nuzzles his nose into my chest and gives a low grunt. I stroke his long ebony neck and press my cheek to his. Then, I grab a chunk of his silky mane and swiftly mount the smooth sway of his back.

“Fly, Diablo,” I whisper and lean forward. He takes off like a shot and we streak toward the forest. Diablo knows the surrounding woods even better than I do, and as he races along the narrow paths I keep my head down to avoid the low-hanging tree branches, my rage growing steadily with each beat of his hooves.

Another night of being trapped.

I hadn’t always been like this. Up until five years ago, when I was twelve, I was a regular demion, a demi-demon with a perfectly beautiful blend of the Ancient Powers of Darkness inherited from my demon sire, combined with the gentle capabilities and goodness of my human mother. I had the best of both worlds— a viable connection to the Powers along with all of the benefits of being a human, a Sapie, we call them. Sapies don’t know we exist, but we’re everywhere. We look like them, talk like them, and act like them. But we’re better than them in almost every way. At least, I think so.