[The Celestial Wars] Chapter 1.23
Avis and Clarise arrived at the stables ahead of the girls, despite their dance that covered every square centimetre of the chamber Clarise had sequestered. Uriel was already in the stables, drawing out the last of the four demon steeds for them to take. The archangel saw them coming and smiled in greeting at his sister with love in his eyes. Avis on the other hand, received a filthy glare that no one could misinterpret. The Mystallian rolled his eyes. Whatever. He turned his attention to the selected demon steeds instead.
The beasts were beautiful—if one was into fire. They stood as strong in the leg as any mystallion and ranged in colours from pale yellow to the richest of reds. Flames spouted from their nostrils and merged above their muzzle, creating a line of fire that ran up between their eyes, past their pointed ears and down to form a thick mane of fire. Their bodies were a solid mass of muscle.
Fire leapt from their hooves to their knees, giving them the appearance of wearing bizarre boots of flames and their flaming tails stretched almost to the ground, blending into the fire of their rear hooves. When any of them flicked their heads or tails, embers would cascade around them.
“Do the girls know how to ride in their current forms?” Avis asked, as hundreds of possible calamities that all started with them being thrown mid-ride inundated him. “They won’t be able to shapeshift to keep themselves mounted if they don’t.”
Clarise placed her ear against his chest and lightly feathered her fingers across the front of his doublet. “Demon steeds are the preferred riding beast of the Hellion Highborn,” she answered factually. “No matter what form the Hellion Highborn is in, the demon steed will acknowledge their bloodline and behave accordingly. I would not, however, recommend a non-Highborn Hellion attempt to master them.”
So that answered his next two questions at the same time. One, Cora would be able to ride the demon steeds as a Mystallian because the stupid beasts would recognise her Highborn Hellion blood and temper their flames to prevent injury. And two, since he wasn’t a Highborn Hellion, his ass would be fried upon contact. Avis’ vision slitted. Great.
Well, that wasn’t going to be a deal-breaker. If the stupid animal didn’t want to behave, so long as it had a mind to decide that, he wouldn’t give it a choice. No way was he going to give Uriel and any other Hellion Lord the satisfaction of watching him being thrown from the steed or burnt to a crisp. Avis snorted sharply at the mere thought of it and Clarise chuckled at him.
“You forget my blood flows in your veins, beloved,” she said, correctly guessing where his thoughts were at. “They will see you as my husband and not act out. You have my word.”
Avis eyed the demon steeds suspiciously for a few more seconds before accepting her claims. Okay, one less headache to deal with, he thought, moving his gaze away from the animals and towards his angelic brother-by-marriage nearby. As much as he despised everything about the male, they both loved Clarise and the girls enough to do anything for them.
Even speak civilly to each other for longer than ten seconds. Hopefully. The Nine Levels of Hell was no place for the women and surely Uriel had to agree with that. Avis quietly nuzzled Clarise’ hair, absorbing more of her lavender scent. “Sweetheart, would you excuse me a moment? I just need to … have a private word with your brother.”
Clarise’s eyebrow arched sharply, but after looking inquisitively at her brother, she dipped her head once in agreement and slid her arm from around his back. “I will wait here, beloved.”
Avis didn’t want to be separated from her any more than she wanted to be separated from him, but as he stepped away from her and approached the archangel, he accepted it was something they were both going to have to get used to. Unfortunately. They weren’t always going to be together.
Uriel scowled at him the whole way. “You test my patience,” the archangel warned, without using his name.
“Just as you test mine,” Avis replied, matching his brother-by-marriage’s surliness. His days of being amongst the Damned were over and he marched straight up to the archangel to prove both to himself and his brother-by-marriage that he could.
His eyes were locked on Uriel’s rich, ice-blue gaze and he felt no fear in doing so. “How do you feel about the women being taken through the various levels of Hell to reach the Akheron River?”
Uriel ground his teeth and turned back to the demon steed. “My thoughts on the matter are not up for discussion.”
Avis placed his hand on the neck of the demon steed, close enough to Uriel that the demonic crown prince couldn’t miss it, but not starting something between them by actually touching him. “Hear me out, Uriel, and keep in mind I’m saying this for the sake of your sister and your nieces—not myself.” Uriel paused, but didn’t look at him. Avis took it as an acquiesce—of sorts.
“What if I go through the levels alone, leading the demon steeds. It’ll take me a few hours to reach the first gates and after that I’ll blood-link the ladies and their servants and guards to me. We all still end up on the shores of the Akheron River, but they won’t have to deal with the horrors you and I both know are out there.”
Uriel’s armoured fist clenched around the reins and he whirled to face Avis; waves of fury emanating from him.
“If you think for one realm-damned second …” —his voice hit all the dark notes of his demonic heritage and his teeth sharpened into pointed fangs— “… that I am going to let you get anywhere near the front gates of Hell alone, just so you can flee and break those ladies’ hearts again …”
Avis should have known he’d jump to that conclusion. Only two years ago, it would have been the reality. But not anymore. Avis parted his feet for better balance and pressed a fist lightly into his side, silently daring Uriel to take that step into his space.
“I have no intention of running anywhere. What I am going to do is taking my family home and I could care less how you feel about it. Hell is the city of torture. Everyone knows that. But unless you’ve personally been touched by it, you’ll never appreciate the depths that this place will go to destroy you. I don’t want any of that ugliness touching my family. Not with the girls—”
“Not with the girls … what?” Uriel demanded; sparks of hellfire flashing through his eyes like flint against granite.
“You know they’ve both been hobbled by tefsla,” Avis replied, completely unfazed by his brother-by-marriage’s hostility. “Because of that, they’ll hear and see everything and not be able to turn a blind eye or deafen themselves when the screams become too much for their innocent natures to handle. I’d rather not have either of them influenced by the plight of the Damned while they are so physically debilitated.” He had no intention of mentioning the added problem of Columbine’s emotional issues.
Uriel tilted his head to one side and deliberately ran his eyes down the full length of his brother-by-marriage. When they reached Avis’ boots, they lifted just as slowly, halting at his face. The glower that swept across the archangel would have melted stone. “I meant what I said about taking you out into the Unknown Realms for all eternity if you hurt them again. You know that, right?”
Avis allowed his eyes to half close as if the subject bored him and only suppressed the desire to yawn because he knew the ensuing brawl might upset Clarise. “If it concerns you that much, come with me. I don’t plan on running.” He paused to give his next sentence extra credence. “But do get it into that thick skull of yours that they’re mine and they’re coming home with me.”
More hellfire sparked in Uriel’s eyes and his upper lip curled in disgust. “You think you own them?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Avis declared, his eyes widening with conviction as he nodded slowly. “Your sister’s already proven the lengths she’ll go to for me, and I’m willing to go much further for them.”
Again, that slow, realm-damned, full-body examination that began and ended with his face. Avis mashed his lips together, his own patience waning. I swear, do that one more fucking time, you feather-brained fuckwit. The fingers of his free hand tensed, though he refrained from curling it into a fist. Barely.
Uriel must have guessed the darkness of his thoughts for he took that step, getting right up into Avis’ grill. “You cannot possibly hate me more than I hate you,” he snarled, his eyes exploding into balls of demonic hellfire, though he kept his words low for Clarise’s sake. He opened his mouth to say more, then must have realised his temper had gotten the better of him, for he closed it again and lifted his chin towards the cavern ceiling.
He blinked several times, drawing in a rapid succession of deep breaths until he was back under control. Then, when he lowered his head, his angelic, ice-blue eyes locked on to Avis and his teeth once again level and perfect.
“However, despite my disgust in you, your words do have merit. You and I will take the demon steeds and their equipment through the levels. Once we reach the shores of the Akheron River, I will blood-link with my sister and bring her and her children across.”
Avis didn’t miss the deliberate exclusion of his position within that family unit. This is going to be a fun few hours. Nevertheless … “Done.”
As the Mystallian turned and made his way back to Clarise, Uriel sneered quietly after him, “Do run, Avis. Please. Because you will not get another opportunity to hide behind my sister’s skirt, I promise you.”
Avis’s next step faltered a fraction as rage swept through him. Everything in him wanted to swing around and rip a millennium of memory from the smug bastard, burning it to ash right in front of his mental eyes.
But Clarise was ahead of him, looking at him in concern, so he ground his teeth until his jaw hurt and forced himself to keep walking as if nothing was wrong. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, and it only reemphasised what a bitch his next few hours were going to be.
“What was that all about?” Clarise asked, her gaze shifting between him and her eldest brother.
“I’m sure you can guess,” he replied without answering as he folded her back into his arms. The last thing he wanted was Clarise to be at war with her brother on his behalf when he knew how much they cared for each other. “But let it go, sweetheart. If I wanted to have a problem with it, I’d take care of it myself.”
Clarise shot her brother a chilling look filled with protective suspicion to which the archangel’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Their silent exchange lifted Avis’s dark mood until he wanted to stamp his feet and howl in delight. His chest swelled with pride and his arms tightened around her. He knew the look he shot the stunned demonic prince had him practically gloating. That’s right asshole, he all but projected. She’s growing a Mystallian backbone. Get used to it, because there’s going to be a lot more where that came from.
For more of my work: r/Angel466
Posted Apr 14, 2020, 4:22 AM UTC · edited