“Who do you have?” asked Mammon, who was clueless about this particular part of his plan.
“The angel Ronin’s mother adopted when he was a child.” When Mammon’s face registered shock, Belpheg bit back a grin. “Didn’t you know?”
“No.” Mammon’s mouth tightened.
“Further proof of how important she is to Ronin, if he wasn’t willing to share her existence with you.”
“So you plan to use her to draw my son in,” Mammon said flatly, leaning an elbow on his seat and absently lifting his hand toward his ear.
“If I’m lucky, it will lead them all to me.” Oh, he could always go after them, thanks to the tracker he’d installed on the angel. But he was strongest here, near his scrolls, and he daren’t travel with them. That would reveal just how important they were. Would highlight his one true weakness.
No, better to lure them here, where Mammon and his succubi were. Where they could at last become useful to him.
When Belpheg gave in to the urge to let out an amused laugh, it sparked a current of unexpected energy that momentarily stopped his heart. He swallowed his pained gasp.
Thorne noticed and tentatively started forward. “You okay?”
Belpheg waved him away, pointedly ignoring his question. “Move into the west wing so you can guard the asset. Take the room next to hers.”
“Okay.” Thorne hesitated. “Are you not feeling well?”
Belpheg fixed Thorne with a murderous gaze. “Get out.”
Thorne left with a scowl, and Belpheg turned his attention back to Mammon, who regarded him with clear speculation.
“Once you absorb the energy my succubi will take from your sons, I’ll be more than prepared to form the circle.” Belpheg rose and crossed over to his pedestal, running his fingers along the scrolls that contained the recipe for his salvation. His body pulsed with a new sliver of energy, easing the strain in his heart. “The summer solstice will be upon us in a week, so it must be done by then.”
“And then the Council will be decimated,” Mammon added smugly.
“More easily than you can imagine, once I have the power of my twelve at my disposal. The Council members have no clue what’s coming to them.”
Mammon let out a hoarse chuckle. Clothing rustled as he moved forward in his chair. “Have you considered what will happen once the Council is gone? Think of it, with me at your side, we will conquer all the worlds. Every being in existence, under our command.”
Our command?
Either Mammon was thicker than he’d thought, or the demon was grasping for power. Whichever one it was, the time had come for Belpheg to disabuse him of his notions.
“There is no our,” Belpheg said almost casually as he once again caressed the smooth, soft vellum that had come to mean so much to him—his very salvation, in fact. When he was met with nothing but silence, he whirled back around to face Mammon. “You are my pawn. My soldier. Not my co-ruler.”
“But…” Mammon paused, clasping his hands and drawing his gaze to the floor. Though he looked calm, Belpheg could sense the rage boiling under the surface. It made him long to chuckle, because what could the older demon do?
Nothing. And that was what he had to offer. Absolutely nothing that Belpheg hadn’t already claimed for a lesser price.
True, the demon would have untold power once he gained all twelve of his abilities, maybe even enough to take him on if he tried to do so before Belpheg had the chance to perform the centering ritual. But he didn’t know that.
Belpheg had learned from his failures with Asmodeus. He would put the demon in his place now, would set expectations up front, so that Mammon daren’t question him later. While Asmodeus had simply been broken and insane, Mammon’s delusions were linked to his admittedly high intelligence…and that would be his disadvantage in this scenario. Since Mammon was still recovering from his time in the prison, still fearful that he’d be forced back, when push came to shove, Belpheg knew the demon wouldn’t dare stand up to him.
“But I thought you sought me out so that we would create a new world, together,” Mammon finally continued, lifting his gaze to meet Belpheg’s eyes. Though his voice was calm, there was fury in his gaze.
Belpheg smiled as one would when indulging a child. “I sought you out because the thought of you being the one to siphon your son’s powers amused me, and because I could. No further reason.”
Mammon swallowed hard and rose, fire flashing in his eyes. “But together we could rule—”
“I don’t need your assistance,” Belpheg interjected smoothly. He crossed the room and pointedly took his seat across from Mammon. Though the movement left him in what would traditionally be a weaker position, sitting across from the tense, standing demon, they both knew Mammon had no real power. Not in this situation. Not yet.