Blood Pact (Darkling Mage 7)

“The dog?” Herald said.

“Correct. Mammon only desires to keep the dog, as an addition to its growing collection of curiosities, the way the Tome of Annihilation was once added to Mammon’s library.”

I reached for my backpack, prepared to release Vanitas. I could feel him thrashing around inside of his pocket dimension. He hadn’t been blooded in a while, which must have accounted for his feistiness. Plus he’d had a hankering for god’s blood that was never truly slaked, and now here he was barely inches away from tasting demon blood for the first time. And not just any demon either, but the prince of greed.

That was when I remembered just what Herald and I were up against. A prince of hell might easily be counted among the most powerful entities we could encounter in the wild, and there was always that very curious caveat about the mortality of demons and angels. If Mammon was to be believed, there was no way to truly kill the more powerful and ancient among them, even outside of their domicile, in their case, heaven or hell.

“You are hesitant. Mammon understands completely. The dog is a rare commodity, after all. Perhaps Mammon will even be able to help you find the source of the creature, whatever – or whoever it was that granted the canine its bizarre and immense power.”

“Pass,” I told Mammon. Then, turning to my backpack, I hissed. “Dammit, fine,

I’ll let you out, but only if you promise not to attack the super dangerous, super vindictive entity.”

“Dust?” Herald said. “What the hell are you even saying?”

“Mammon is certainly confused.”

Against my better judgment, I lifted the flap of my leather backpack. Vanitas flew out instantly, but before he could head straight for the demon prince of greed, I reached out and grabbed him by the hilt. No small feat, I’ll tell you that much, because we all know how stupendously forceful Vanitas can be. And we all know that, despite how totally ripped and muscular I am, I do still have limited reserves of physical strength. I’m only human after all. I’m only slightly ashamed to admit that he dragged me along the sidewalk a short distance before I managed to wrangle him under physical control.

“Let go of me,” Vanitas grunted. “I said no touchy. I thought we established that.”

“I remember,” I said. “But this is a special case. I don’t want you cutting anyone open.”

“You do realize that I only have to slip myself out of my scabbard? The blunter half of me is just as good at smashing and killing things.” Vanitas laughed inside of my head. “It just takes longer to kill something dead if you’re trying to pulverize it.”

“What is this?” Mammon said, its feet leaving footprints of molten gold as it retreated. “Why, this is the very blade that you beseeched Mammon to reforge. How cruel that you would now choose to turn that same blade against its smith.”

“Think of it as an insurance policy,” I said, grunting as I struggled to hold Vanitas in place. Sweat was forming on my forehead, dripping down my back. “Just making sure we can have this conversation without you banishing us to another dimension.”

“Why, Mammon would never do such a thing.” The demon tittered nervously. “Are you perhaps referring to the first time you visited Mammon with your beloved?” Mammon nodded at Herald.

Herald rolled his eyes, tutting. “See? Even demon princes knew we were a thing before you did, Dust. And yes, Mammon. It was the only time we visited you – shortly before you hurled us into Amaterasu’s domicile.”

“And now you are together, as mates,” Mammon breathed. “See how Mammon has served you so well? Wonderful. Mazel tov.”

“Damn it, not the time or place.” I finally managed to wrestle Vanitas into submission, something that I had to do by practically hugging him against my chest, sword and scabbard both. I knew he was going to have some very choice words with me later, as if he wasn’t already so pissed off.

“Let me at ’em,” Vanitas said, bucking and thrashing in my arms. “Gonna tear things to pieces.”

Mammon sneered at us, its fangs gleaming in the streetlight, the tips of its fingers dripping with molten gold. “Enough of this. Mammon reforged that blade from the fires of its own hells. Do you truly believe that Mammon fears a glorified kitchen knife? Now, make arrangements to surrender your little dog to the court of greed, or consider the consequences.”

“That was a threat,” Vanitas shouted in my mind. “Let me at ’em.”

Mammon raised its chin, grinning in defiance. “Surrender the dog, or Mammon will be more than delighted to send the forces of greed after you and your friends, Dustin Graves. A fair trade, is it not?”

“Definitely a threat,” I said.

“Counter offer,” Herald said. “You leave us alone, and you leave Banjo alone, or – or we’ll alert the other courts of hell. See how well you fare when you’re up against your own.”

Mammon staggered back, as if struck by a flurry of invisible blows. Its hands fluttered to its chest. “You wouldn’t dare. Why, the flood of demons alone that would come after you, pestering you day and night, hounding your every step? You would never.”

Herald was bluffing. He must have been. I couldn’t imagine how the other courts of hell dealt with their problems, but I had a feeling that certain princes would be willing to handle the situation with less delicacy and slightly more violence than Mammon would. I tried to imagine how the prince of wrath would handle brokering the exchange of a magical corgi, and I shuddered.

“Hand over the dog,” Mammon said, “and you will be greatly rewarded. Gemstones. Artifacts of the greatest power. Perhaps even that paper currency that you humans are so fond of.” The demon prince extended one gold-lacquered finger towards me. “And for you, thing of shadows, perhaps even renewed access to that which you desire most.”

My heart froze in my chest. The Dark Room. Hello – demon prince of greed? Of course Mammon knew exactly what I wanted.

Herald cocked an eyebrow, then leaned in to whisper. “What’s he talking about, Dust?”