The Demon’s Snare: Chapter 19 – The Dark Lady Spins her Web
Chapter Nineteen
The Dark Lady rose from the demon’s corpse. This one was a holdover from a deposed regime. It wore the robes of a sorcerer, deep blue trimmed with gold, and a staff rested beside its outstretched hand. Mere moments ago, it was flinging magic that defied the laws of reality in this realm. It called lightning and summoned fire and distorted gravity, but once she closed the distance the fight was over. The fear she saw in its eyes as her claws tightened around its throat was still there, even as they stared at the ceiling. Like all sorcerers, it held a final trick up its sleeve. At the very last, as its life gurgled away and one hand weakly batted at her grip, she did not expect the knife.
Liliana gently licked the tip of one finger. Some of her kin devoured their prey, feasting on flesh and blood like she feasted on sex. Open warfare was not how she preferred to operate, but she had been on her share of battlefields, usually stroking the ego of one lord or another. She had seen the rabble feeding on their enemies, absorbing their essences as much as their meat. It was just so… sloppy. She carefully moved one heeled foot away from the growing pool of blood.
It was not blood, per se, for her kind did not bleed. But it was similar. It was the same shade of deep crimson. The same essence of life. For her kind did have life. It took energy to bring them to this plane, and much of that energy was used to create suits of flesh and tie spirit to substance. Their bodies carried their essences, and when one died, the other followed. Her kin were hardy, but not invincible.
Though death was not an ending, as in the mortal sense. It was simply an intermission, followed by an inevitable rebirth below. It took great strength to truly destroy a demon, especially one such as her. She paused as she considered how mortality was creeping into her mind more often of late.
She had slain the leader of the Fourth Host. Every one of their band were accomplished warriors, and that fool Elijah’s name was spat with contempt in the furthest corners of the Abyss. She’d had help, of course. Silas and his acolytes had swarmed the mongrels, though the monk hadn’t personally participated. Even Michael had played a part. How different would things be if he’d died that night?
No, she did not enjoy feasting on corpses like others of her kind. But every few decades there was no harm in making sure tastes had not changed.
Liliana glanced down at the body and its grisly remains. Then she stared at her own fingers and the bloodstains on their tips. When her eyes found the knife on the floor, her side burned.
Liliana winced when she stood. The sorcerer was quicker than she expected. No real threat, but annoyingly competent. When she held her hand to her side, it came away wet and red. The wound was deep. She was here clearing her master’s - a piercing lance of pain drove into her mind, squeezing her eyes shut until it passed.
She was here clearing her former master’s rivals from the city. It was not a lingering compulsion from a now-broken bond, but instead an act of self-interest. She would likely be returned to him sooner than later, and it would be unwise to show up empty-handed after so long. Though the reunion would be painful regardless.
Memories of that one were plentiful. Blinding agony. Debasing humiliation. He was equally adept at both physical torture and psychological torment, which was fitting for a Lord of the Abyss. Below, there was an endless sea of demons clamoring for power, and only a handful of thrones to go around. To take one required the absolute peak of brutality and cunning.
She was confident against most, but the thought of her former master’s cruel smile made her shiver. When her bond was inevitably passed back to him, she would do her best to avoid his wrath. In the meantime, she would work to further his ends and come up with a believable explanation for why she had been out of touch for so long.
Her thoughts turned to Michael. That foolish, frustrating, willful boy. Not a boy, on second thought. How did he continue to fight? It was unthinkable. She had woven trust into his core, dangled temptation within easy reach, promised and delivered pleasure he could never have imagined, and still he resisted. Not only resisted, but he had somehow found the strength to bend her will to his own. It was a step too far. Should he learn to control the bond fully, well, best not dwell on that. The days of her tenuous freedom may be numbered.
Still, Michael had his moments. He was kind and thoughtful. Concern for his friends often outweighed his own desires, an exceedingly rare trait among mortals. To her great surprise, she had truly enjoyed his companionship while she was still behind the mask of the angel.
And to see him take those women. Mmm, now that had been a treat. The way his walls were torn down, brick by brick. The way his will was slowly worn away and given over to temptation. The way a shadow passed over his face and thoughts. Seeing him like that made her proud. And he was a generous lover, when he wasn’t overcome by his own lust. What would it be like to lay with a lover who was as interested in giving as receiving? In an endless sea of sexual experiences, it was incredibly rare to find something new. That would be one.
Something new…
Her entire existence was defined by her bond, passed from one master to the next in a never-ending cycle. What would true freedom be like? The ability to do as she pleased, finally released from the dismal, eternal task of corrupting mortals? She didn’t know what she would even do with herself, she just knew she wanted it.
It was a longing she’d never felt, because it had never been a possibility, because her bond had always been owned by the most vile beings in creation. She didn’t know if breaking it was even possible, but she had to try. And yet, Michael had granted her more independence than she’d ever had, though she’d been wearing the face of the angel at the time. Perhaps he would continue to do so. If she couldn’t find a way to break the bond, maybe he…
No. She would not think like that. Her first priority was her own freedom. She took one last look at the corpse at her feet, winced, and disappeared into the shadows.