CHAPTER 4
This tome Jericho found Noir in the war room with no sign of Azura. Dressed in his burgundy armor, the primordial god was sitting in a chair with his legs propped up on the table and his ankles crossed. His eyes were half-opened, his fingers laced as his hands rested on his stomach.
If Jericho didn't know better, he'd think Noir had been napping.
"You want something?"
Jericho paused at the gruff words. Even though Noir hadn't added an insult to the end, they were said with enough contempt that it was more than implied.
"Azura told me I was to lead an army. I would like to meet those soldiers."
Noir smirked at him. "Do you understand what we're asking you to do?"
"Kill Zeus and bring the Olympians down."
Noir's face was impassive and cold. "You think you can do that?"
Jericho wasn't one to be intimidated. While he knew Noir was the more powerful of the two of them, he really didn't give a shit. "I'm a Titan and I fought with Zeus to imprison my brethren for him. What do you think?"
"I think if you stand by those brave words, you'll be a worthy ally."
"You doubt me?"
Noir shrugged before he yawned as if the conversation bored him. "I doubt everyone. I have yet to find one person I can't corrupt and/or own. Everyone is for sale. It's just a matter of negotiating the right price."
"Then I probably should have asked for more."
Noir laughed. "Yes, you should have. I expected you to be harder to sway, but then I didn't take into account your immense hatred of Zeus." He took in a long, savoring breath. "I so love the smell of hatred and revenge. It's the headiest of concoctions."
Jericho disagreed. "I personally feel that way toward blood. No better smell in the universe than when it's combined with the aroma of those fearing death."
Noir sucked his breath in sharply as if he was getting a sexual thrill from Jericho's description. "Oh, I do like you. True kindred spirits are hard to find."
"You forgot who and what birthed me."
Noir nodded as he twiddled his thumbs. "I pity those born of the lighter side. They have no understanding of how seductive cruelty is. The music made out of screams and pleas for mercy. Mmmm. Nothing better."
Jericho swore he could feel the blade at his side tremble, but whether in approval or fear, he couldn't tell.
"Asmodeus!" Noir shouted suddenly. "Show yourself."
A dark cloud formed at Noir's side. It slowly solidified into a being that reminded Jericho of a tall elf. His sharp features leaned toward pretty, yet his dark gray eyes showed nothing but cruelty. Dressed all in black, the demon looked sinister and emotionless. "You called me, Master?"
Noir gave him a cold stare. "I would never call you master, slug." He jerked his chin to indicate Jericho. "This is our newest ally. I want you to show him to Zeth and the rest of the Olympian dogs who fight for us."
Asmodeus bowed low in true sycophantic form. "Anything else, Master? Lick your boots? Wipe your ass?"
Noir shoved him roughly, but didn't rise from his seat. "Piss me off, worm, and it'll be the other way around."
Asmodeus's eyes widened as he straightened. "And on that note, Master, I'll be taking him to Zeth." He paused beside Jericho. "Come with me, Minor Master. I'll show you the way." The demon headed for the door.
What an absolutely bizarre creature. Jericho hesitated in his place for a moment longer as Noir continued to stare at nothing.
"Is there anything else?" Noir asked from his half-lidded repose. Even though it looked as if he were oblivious, Jericho had a feeling nothing escaped Noir's attention.
"Just curious. When you rule the world, what do you plan to do with it?"
"Enjoy it. It's been too long since we were last revered by the masses. Once you get a new taste of it, you'll understand. And you'll remember. We are overlords. It's mother's milk to our kind."
Noir was right. Jericho couldn't remember the last time someone had shown him any kind of respect or even common decency. He'd spent years of his past locked in prisons, in dungeons and other hell holes Zeus had dumped him in. No part of him had been left unviolated.
It was why he wanted to be sticky with the blood of the Olympians. Why he wanted to lick it from his fingers...
Inclining his head to the ancient power, Jericho turned and followed Asmodeus out of the room and down the hallway that seemed to glow. How very strange.
"Where does the light come from?" he asked the demon.
Asmodeus glanced up, then looked back at the floor as they walked. "Um, I don't think you want me to answer that, Minor Master."
"Why not?"
"It might upset you."
"Then upset me."
Asmodeus hesitated another few seconds before he finally answered. "It's from the blood of the Cali, not the goddess Kali, 'cause let's face it, bleeding her would just anger her and that's not a smart thing to do since she's pretty damn powerful-you probably knew that. Rather it's from the little harmless Cali demons who were created when she pricked her finger on a rose. Those Cali. Apparently their blood glows. Who knew, right?"
Jericho paused as he looked up. The Caliwere a benevolent race of demons who helped mankind. Since he'd never fought them, he'd had no idea their blood was blue or that it glowed. The blood flowed through the tubes, reminding him of a glow stick. "How many did it take to illuminate the hallway?"
Asmodeus visibly cringed. "Well, you see the problem with blood is that it often dries out, and so you have to keep a constant supply of it, which is really not something we're supposed to talk about and why I said you didn't really want me to answer your question. I was right, huh?"
Jericho's stomach churned at the thought of the cold brutality of killing a species just to use their blood for light. Then again, humans pulled fireflies apart for the same exact reason. He couldn't count the number of people he'd seen who had smeared the poor insect's abdomen over their skin to make it glow and then laughed about it.
He supposed it was basically the same principle, really. Jericho continued after Asmodeus. "How many demons and people are enslaved here?"
"Define slavery." Asmodeus hedged.
"Kept against their will."
"Good definition." He scratched his chin in thought. "Counting me?"
"Why not?"
"Probably a couple of million... you know it's really hard to count to a million, plus they're always dying and new ones are coming in. I tried to count once, but it got really depressing so I stopped. The constant adding and subtracting. Not my forte, really."
It made Jericho wonder what the demon's forte was. Then again, it was probably best not to ask. "How long have you been here?"
"Don't know. Again, tried to count once, got depressed so I stopped. I find it easier to just go with the flow. Ease with the peas."
Jericho frowned. "Ease with the peas?"
"Yeah," he said slowly, "that's not a happy memory, either. Let's forget I mentioned it." He stopped outside a door. "Here we are. Maybe I should warn you before we enter."
Jericho stepped past him and threw open the door.
"Or maybe not. Let's just barge in and be surprised, shall we?"
Jericho was definitely surprised by what he found. There were drunk Skoti everywhere. Some entwined in scenes the Kama Sutra would appreciate. He had to pause at one couple. The sheer flexibility required to do what they were doing was amazing...
Damn, they would both need a chiropractor later.