Page 58 of Grave Consequences
The guys all go stiff, anger crawling into their eyes at the threatening stance Tazreel is coming at me with. They move to close in around me, but I hold up a hand to stop them. Tazreel isn’t just a Nihil, he’s a major sin, Abdicated inner circle, Pride prickhead. I have no idea what kind of damage he can do to them. He steps even closer to me, invading my space as his enraged menace looms over me like storm clouds. Fear floods my veins, quickly followed by anger.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
In a blink, warmth prickles my fisted palm, and then I’m suddenly holding the Hell weapon that set off this whole tantrum that Tazreel is having.
Immediately, the thunderous darkness recedes, and Tazreel’s face lights up. “Ha!” he declares with wide-eyed excitement, elation washing through his features. Confusion whiplashes through me as his rage disappears as quickly as it came.
What the hell just happened?
At my incredulous look, he shrugs, lifting a blond wing. “I figured it must have been some instinctive protective reaction that called the scythe to you during the dinner party when you felt backed into a corner, so I figured I’d try this,” he tells me, like threatening me was a perfectly reasonable idea. “Perhaps any kind of intense emotion will work. We will have to test that out,” Tazreel observes, gesturing to the guys as he sayswe,as though they’re in on the plan.
“What were you feeling the exact moment the scythe appeared?” Taz asks, like a scientist collecting data at the end of an experiment.
“Um, I was concerned that you were a fucking psycho, flipping your switch that fast,” I tell him with intense side-eye. “I was also pissed and pretty fucking terrified,” I confess, quickly catching on to what Tazreel was trying to accomplish with the show he put on.
My mind knows now that it was all a test, but my body is still shaken up. I try to cover up my racing heart as I set the straight bladed end of the scythe on the ground and look it over like a puzzle I’m trying to find all the pieces to.
“There, now we know,” Taz states pompously. “You’re welcome. I’ve solved that problem for you.” He turns to the guys. “Next time she needs her scythe and she can’t get it to come to her, just threaten her life.”
Iceman and Crux look at him like he’s lost his mind, but Jerif and Echo seem oddly up to the task. That should scare me, but instead, I’m intrigued.
“Now,” Taz says, clapping his hands together once. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
I run a hand down my face and look over to Iceman. “Can I have more demon spirits?” I ask, because Taz is much harder to deal with while I’m sober.
Iceman’s deep blue lips kick up. “No.”
I let out a sigh of disappointment before turning back to Taz. “Okay, so explain why you needed the scythe.”
Taz digs into his pocket and pulls out a small glass vial filled with a thick red liquid. “I procured this from the hump of a Vual demon,” he says proudly, like this was a great feat. “From Luce’s reaction, I know that your scythe has to be a family heirloom, connected to your maternal bloodline. It’s the key to it all,” he tells me as he pops off the cork of the bottle.
I pick up my scythe, eyeing the bottled liquid warily. “So what is that going to do, exactly?” I ask him.
“I’m going to pour this on your scythe, which will enable it to track down your bloodline. The power should pull us to your mother, or at least someone in that bloodline.” He turns to my guys. “You might want to hold on to her,” he warns ominously.
My pulse starts to race again, and my mouth opens in surprise. Shit. This is all happening really fucking fast.
“Wait!” I call out at the same time Tazreel asks, “Ready?”
I open my mouth to say, “Fuck no!” but of course, the arrogant ass doesn’t wait for anyone to answer. He just tips the bottle over, dumping the entire contents of it onto the blade of my scythe.
“Are you kidding me?” I demand, but the oozing, molasses-thick liquid is already coating the blade, and there isn’t anything I can do to stop it.
Taz reaches forward and grabs my arm, just as my demons grab onto other various parts of me. I don’t even get time to suck a breath in and reprimand Taz about waiting for permission or lecture him about not pouring demon hump blood on other people’s scythes, because as soon as the red liquid drips off the blade of the scythe and lands on the ground, something yanks on mehard.
I go portaling straight downward, like Alice fucking Liddell falling straight into the rabbit hole. Which is just fucking great, because I hate bunnies almost as much as I hate birds. If I come out of this whole thing with a cotton tail, I’m going to be pissed.
18
It feels like we all get sucked down into demonic quicksand, pulled right to the center of earth. Then, somehow, we flip right-side up again and go barreling skyward in pure darkness. It’s the worst fucking rollercoaster ride ever, and my stomach lurches angrily.
Just when I’m sure there will be ralphing in my near future, the pull on me stops and there’s once again solid ground beneath our feet.
I blink in shock, feeling like the wind was sucked out of my lungs, and I wheeze as I bend at the waist and try to get my bearings.
“Breathe, Maverick,” Iceman tells me as he places a comforting hand over my back. As though my body responds to his suggestion alone, my lungs immediately cooperate and inflate.
I gasp and steady myself for a moment and then straighten up, looking around as everything comes into focus. We’re surrounded by flat land, covered in bushy green trees as far as the eye can see. We’ve landed on top of a lone hill—the only higher elevation around—and from our vantage point, we have an unobstructed view all the way out to the horizon.
