Morning Star (Sins of the Father 3)

There it was. Mother? But before I could think to ask, Belphegor spoke again, this time in a gloating, taunting tone.

“Yes, that’s right! Your mother. How is the old whore these days? Still squirting out undeserving heirs left and right?”

“I am not undeserving.” Quill reached for another ball of fire, reeling back as he prepare to lob it at the prince. “And you will never be allowed to speak of Mother in that tone again.”

The fireball flew, smashed into Belphegor’s shield, then dissipated, as expected, into sparks and useless smoke. I knew that Sloth was good at baiting me into anger, but Quill was buying into his game even harder.

Belphegor shrugged as the flames died away. “You really are your mother’s offspring. Just as impulsive and single-minded as that reprehensible harlot could ever be. This has been a waste of my time. Send Asmodeus my regards.” He lifted his head to the sky, levitating higher.

“He’s getting away,” Royce shouted.

From near him, I heard Maharani mutter. “Asmodeus. The Prince of Lust.”

“That’s right,” Quill said. “The Court of Sloth has always yearned for power it doesn’t deserve, but this time it looks like Belphegor may just get what he wants.”

I raised my head, releasing my shield back to the Vestments, tracing Belphegor’s ascent as leathery wings burst from his back, carrying him higher and higher above the clouds. To my horror, the tendrils linking him to Florian disengaged. I rushed to his side, falling on my knees as the last of the vines left the sockets in his forehead. He was breathing. Either Belphegor was lying, or he’d already siphoned all that he needed out of Florian’s brain.

“Florian?” I spoke softly, careful not to shock him, wanting to nudge him on the shoulder, but terrified that it would hurt him even more. “Florian, buddy? You okay there?”

He groaned, coughing out what looked like clods of dirt, and somehow it was the best thing that I’d seen happen all day. The holes in his head were dry, no longer bleeding, but it was still alarming to see them up close, these fissures that Belphegor had used to reach into his mind.

Florian’s lashes fluttered, and his eyes focused on me. “Mace? That you, buddy? Did we win?”

I patted him on the arm. “Not yet, we haven’t. But I’m going to change that.”

Artemis ran over as well, running her fingers across Florian’s brow. “You’re okay,” she said. “He’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

I nodded, then turned to the Scions. “Will you make sure my friend will be safe? He didn’t want any part of this. You have to know this isn’t his fault.”

Royce pursed his lips, but Maharani’s gentle smile answered for them both. “You have my word, Mr. Albrecht.”

I nodded again in thanks, then looked to the sky, following the faint trail of crimson fire burning just beyond the clouds. Quilliam stepped up next to me, his cheeks still flushed with anger.

“So,” I said. “Half demon, huh? Must be interesting.”

He shook his head. “It is what it is. I fucking hate it sometimes. Shitload of politics.”

“Yeah. I think we can fix that. Part of it, at least.”

I shrugged off my jacket, the chill of the night running across my bare arms. Quill frowned at me. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Nipping things in the bud. Hold my jacket.”

He did, confused, folding it into a bundle in his arms. I gripped my sword tight, then sprinted for the edge of the rooftop.

“What the hell are you doing, Albrecht? Are you fucking crazy?”

I jumped.

My body fell into a swan dive, and I fell, and kept on falling, the wind screaming in my ears. Then, for the first time in far too long, I became who I was. I spread my wings, danced on a gust of wind, and swung up into the sky, flying once more.

The Prince of Sloth had better be ready, I thought, sword in hand, wings fully unfurled. The son of Samyaza was coming for him.

27

Yes, I know. Fine. The last time I took to the skies, I was throwing up into a bucket and sick for days. That was just going to be a risk I would have to take.

The wind was howling, my wings beating faster and harder as I fought upstream to reach Belphegor, now just a crimson sphere in the distance, an ominous red glow in the night.