Retribution, Devotion Page 7

  The Mad King aka Caius Primus de M’ylce was the first and only created Fallen Elder. She had learned from Reina that he was created by taking the dark soul of the Original Fallen Arch Bernael. While the evil old one lay on the battlefield dying by the hands of the extinct co-angel of death Gabriel, he was fused into the Cursed bitten Vessel named Caius Grete, a cruel human who bartered with the Dark for more power to become a general in the Roman army because he knew he carried the Nephilim DNA strain. He was accepted into the Cursed fold with the sole purpose to be created as a test to see if the Dark were able to create life and extend their ranks.

  Being the first and only created Dark Nephilim, procreation was a gift lost to them in the Fall unlike with their enemy. In order to make Dark Nephilim, the Bite had to be given or humans had to submit to the Dark through handing their souls over. This was the case of Caius Grete. He willingly did both for his own gain. He dropped Grete and became Caius Primus de M’ylce of the House of Deception. As the King of the Curse Society, he had earned his transition into the Curse and ruled it with malevolent power.

  King Caius watched her mistress with a cool expression. His ebon eyes were rimmed in ruby rings that glinted in the light while studying his daughter. He calmly strummed his fingers on the glossy midnight surface of the council table in contrived attentiveness. Observing the Royal House ring that adorned his right pinky, Nydia let her anger simmer through her body to fuse with the pain running down her spinal cord.

  The Medusa knew her King; she knew him very well. Pulsing veins at each bronze temple displayed his quiet fury. Nydia could almost breathe her mistress’s equally agitated fury, which amused her. Reina was ready to shred someone or something apart, again. The bloody slurry of black-red intestines and bowels that currently lay at Reina’s feet had Nydia staring in delight with a malicious smile. The lax councilmember didn’t see it coming when her mistress snatched him up in her quiet angst and ended his darkness.

  His death meant nothing to her as she casually took her seat at the societal table before the meeting started. The council member was the usual casualty of Reina’s tantrums and considering her mistress was still angry about recently losing the battle with the deceased Oracle, he made a great punching bag. Everyone in the royal council was used to this, considering everyone of lower standing was easy prey.

  “The more souls we pollute, the more humans who succumb to our darkness, adds to our garrison; and if we allow them to take from the numerous vessels we have already obtained . . .” The King paused. His nails persistently drummed on the arm of his chair until he continued. “The fact that my son is alive and on their side . . .”

  The chambers rumbled with mutters. Currents of dark light surged then cackled while plumes of fire lit around the Mad King’s eyes. “We will move on from that. Disgrace and betrayal from within . . . as I was stating, reiterating only pisses me off, daughter, but you clearly know that don’t you?”

  Nydia watched the Dark Princess swallow deeply due to frustration and rage. The fact that Marco was living was a shock to her as well, but she knew for her mistress that his appearance was a bigger disappointment. It also was a clear insult, as well as at the fact that she was just disrespected and blamed for something Nydia knew Reina had no control over. Had Reina been a random councilmember who just gave the Mad King the type of contempt he had just spit out, her tongue would have been ripped from her body, all the while as he took his joy in taking out his fury on the rest of her body. Fortunately, Reina was the Princess and she was needed. However, on another note, what he had explained before was true.

  The true King, the Dark Lord Luc would take it upon himself to wipe out his Dark Nephilims and bring about the end of days without them for failing. While they all burned into cinders for eternity, his beasts and the First Fallen would reap the benefits of soul and blood feeding. Clearly, this was not acceptable and could never occur.

  They all had worked long and hard for this right to aid in the war. The Fall served a purpose and the many dark seeds they planted through the Bite and soul pollutions helped keep their side well fed. It also kept the Dark Lord very satisfied in his plans for the massive end. So, no, they could not afford to lose even one battle or the scales would tip forever in the favor of the Light and right now, with how the Earth plane appeared, chaos ruled and all was good for the Cursed.

  Nydia leaned into the table to comment for her mistress but was immediately interrupted by the pitter-patter of small feet and a sinister light giggle. Her oak-colored eyes narrowed in contempt. He has brought in additional reinforcements, the bastard! Digging her nails into the hard surface of the table with another on the blade hidden against her inner thigh, she kept her eyes on her Mistress, who also was seething in fury.

  The quick shift of the energy in the air had the council becoming stoic in their demeanor due to the chortle that danced around the chambers.

  “Valac, come from the shadows, child,” the King amusingly replied, his eyes gleaming with malicious gratification.

  The jovial, pleased snicker continued. The persisting pitter-patter of small feet in a shattering pattern echoed around them until they halted at the entry of an ebon shadow emerging next to the Mad King’s chair. Lord Valac, also known as Brandon, was a package of immaculate evil, born in the body of a five-year-old. The slight tilt of his little face made Nydia notice how his buttery toffee skin casted an unnatural ethereal radiance. His soft, plump cheeks and black low-cut hair accented his almond-shaped pitiless, ominous eyes. He was the epitome of cuteness cloaked in sinister evil. A little Damien from The Omen.

  Brandon was the fallen incarnate of Valac: a Nephilim child meant to be a vessel for the Light due to being gifted with the ability to control Dragons and heal, but who was now turned by the Dark Bite to do the Mad King’s bidding. Nydia had heard from her soldiers that he had traveled to the child’s birth home of Oakland, then to Tibet, where the boy and a strange book were being hidden by relatives.

  The Mad King’s will was supreme. He simply plucked the boy-child from his parents’ blood-drained Light-desecrated lifeless hands with ease. He had destroyed all to get to the child and personally ordered the Cursed Bite to be given by his right hand, Jacques Fur’I, one of the mid-ranking Original Fallen who was chosen to watch over the Cursed Society as the Mad King’s liaison. Nydia couldn’t stand that bastard. Disdain coated her tongue, made her nails cut into the flesh of her palms, drawing blood, and soured her belly.

  “Brandon, have you been wicked, my boy?” the Mad King asked.

  Brandon’s soft sneer made the Mad King pick him up in amusement to rest him upon his lap. Nydia watched him tilt the boy’s chin up to stare him in his ebon dark chocolate eyes.

  “Yes, Unkie. Yes. Yes. Yes. See! Blood.” Shifting suddenly, Brandon pulled out a half blood-spattered ashen white wing from the shadows.

  Ruby drippings decorated the floor while he and the King laughed. “A Nephilim scribe wing. This is satisfactory. Very satisfactory. Where is your father, child?”

  Brandon’s soul-snatching chocolate eyes flashed a reptilian red with a glance toward her Mistress; well, behind her actually. The familiar rich, spicy scent of malevolence and the hint of something else she could never make out made her watch in contempt.

  “My King.” The silky bass of Jacques’s voice washed over everyone.

  Nydia glanced at her mistress and only she could see the sensual effect it was having on the Dark Princess. Reina’s knuckles were subtly brushing against the lush lips of the man Nydia wanted to rip to shreds. She sat silent locked in an old memory while he held Reina’s hand to his mouth in a courteous kiss.

  He was a lowlife bastard. The incarnate of the word erogenous and Fallen wrapped up in a prick demeanor. She had her dealings with him numerous times as she grew up, training to be the killing protector she was. It began as a simple stalk and study. While Reina honed her own lethal skills, the Medusa would act as Reina’s shadow. They watched him to learn all they coul
d, so that Reina could outshine him and garner her father’s respect. Later it changed when Reina let him educate her in the history of their kind, extended fighting, and then some.

  As they got older and Reina demanded she get her way, Nydia watched Reina fall prey to her curiosity by allowing Jacques to enact every dirty act of fornication created by the Emperor of Hell himself. Nights of ravaging, sweat-dripping sex, threesomes that included herself, orgies with the Dark Princess’s new pets, BDSM, every known nasty, dirty position of sex humans couldn’t even fathom were done in the fire-lit chambers of Reina’s room. Since then, Nydia distasted the bastard for being so educated in his style of controlling Reina in subtle ways.

  She used to believe it was a lie that this man had been around for so long and that he would know anything about what cardinal satisfaction really meant, but of course, he proved her wrong. After a while, Nydia began to notice how it really pissed Reina off that he also was a better hunter and fighter than she was at the time, so everything Reina did had her mistress studying from him, until she found ways to outdo him.

  Unfortunately, how do you outdo an Original Fallen, especially when it is their gift to know all things? This of course, not only ticked Reina off but also, that shit pissed Nydia off to no end as well. Prick!

  “Princess . . .” Casually moving his hand, Jacques flashed a casual, lopsided grin before stepping in front of her.

  Through a furious haze, Nydia watched him smoothly reach out to kiss the bare knuckles of her partially newly regenerated hand, muttering as he contemptuously dropped it, “Harpy . . .”

  He addressed her in such dripping loathing that it made her nipples hard in pleasure of having the honor of gaining his hate. Admiration and hate was their relationship. The sound of Brandon’s loud, interjecting call, “Papa!” stopped the swift jugular slash of her blade making contact with his pestilent flesh while she sat in her chair. Her pupils turned ruby red in hatred.

  The knowing look he gave Nydia kept her in her chair while she gave him a constrained grin of condescension. “Limp dick mother . . . my Lord, what a pleasure.”

  Rising smoothly from his chair, the King placed Brandon near him motioning with his hand. “Samael . . . I do mean Brother Jacques. Your arrival pleases me. Take your place.”

  Nydia watched him casually stride in moving to his seat at the right hand of the King. Brandon quickly bounced up and down in place, misting onto Jacques’s lap with a disjointed giggle. The man was dressed in all black except for a touch of red. Slacks hugged a cord-tight formed backside made for gripping. Leather black loafers, and a red button-down shirt with a black vest accented his muscular, running back body.

  He stood at six feet seven inches with creamy, golden, butterscotch skin, and a black goatee that lined his jaw and formed sideburns, which accented his bald head. A small line tattoo written in the old language from before his Fall swirled from the temple to the nape of his neck. Nydia noticed his brown dark-rimmed eyes watched Reina. His plush lips formed a smile as if he knew what she was thinking and Nydia saw dark currents spark over each ring-covered finger.

  Mentally linking with her mistress, Nydia hissed softly, “Say the word, my lady. I’m eager to pump his trite arse with venom.” Her nails lengthen in response.

  Reina only flashed a brief sneer, inwardly musing then locking eyes with her. “Oh, if only, my pet.”

  “As it pleases me to be requested to aid in the war. As you are aware you know how busy we Originals are.” Jacques’s voice drew Nydia back to reality.

  “Of course, dear friend, of course,” the Mad King crooned.

  His eyes flashed over Reina. Nydia could instantly feel her throat briefly close shut by invisible hands. The link that she and Reina shared allowed her to know that it was the Mad King whose fury was aimed at her mistress. The sound of Jacques clearing his throat quickly made their link wane.

  “It is my understanding through the gargoyle missives that the Oracle has awakened and now is unable to be brought to our side?” Jacques quizzically indicated. He tented his fingers to tap his lower lip with the tip of his fingers while he observed the council nod their heads.

  “And not only that she has awakened but that the one called the Attacker is a Sin Eater, a Reaper. Also known as the Angel of Death himself?” he continued.

  Heat, then the sizzling inferno of flames overtook the chambers at the Mad King’s booming voice. “What! This is but lies! We ended that line in the second war!”

  Nydia was dumbstruck while she stared at the Original Fallen. She knew her mistress didn’t even know about that, nor did she! He was the Angel of Death? Why did is seem that that bastard always knew too damn much for his own good?

  “You would think that, my dear friend, but you are sadly uninformed. The one and only is back and from what I read from the reports, and read between the lines”—Jacques winked while he glanced at Nydia and Reina before continuing—“the Oracle is being protected by Dragons and by the Sin Eater.”

  Tenting his fingers to his mouth, Jacques narrowed his eyes in concentration. “As you just mentioned, is it not true, that your generation was under the creed to wipe these three lines out?”

  The Mad King fumed. When he swallowed, his light sepia face turned ruddy with a curt nod. “This is true. After the first war it was decreed that in order for our line to stay strong and cause chaos on the earthly plane to not only soul pollute but to also wipe out our dear cousins’ main pawns, the Sin Eater line, the Dragons, and lastly the Oracles. We were told to take them out. Which we were under the impression we did. We severely weakened their defenses and we gained more souls to pollute.”

  Dropping his hands, Jacques traced a circle on the surface of the ink-black wooden table. In that same moment, Brandon slid out of his lap to sit on the floor to play with the bloody scribe wing. Sucking the bloody, fleshy spinal blade, he taunted the shadows playfully. “Baddd. You did not do as Grandpapa asked and now the Bright Lady has big dogs to protect her and the Bright Lady has her Tree-add.”

  Jacques gave an amused rumble, rustling a hand over Brandon’s low fade. “Brandon, it is called Triad, smart boy, and yes. He in the Light has flipped the tables and created the Triad. Do you recall what that means, Caius?”

  King Caius flattened his hands on the surface of the table then tilted his head to the side assessing the room. The sharp slamming of his fist drew everyone’s attention. Currents of dark energy sparked to land on a council dignitary imploding him into nothing but visceral matter that rained in the chamber. “It means the beginnings of the final war have been decreed and in my foolishness of the past, we of the second line did not dilute and exterminate the lines as well as we believed, unless . . .”

  Stretching, Jacques flashed a satisfied smile and glanced her way. A glass of ruby blood wine materialized within his large hand.

  “Today we ended the life of the Oracle. My blade pierced her gut and she lay dead in her own blood, with that of her dragon protector. My Pet sealed it with a venom swipe as we won that victory, my lord Elder,” Reina replied in brazen regard, spilling her half-truth with her chilly demeanor.

  Nydia gave a slight smirk at her mistress’s purposeful jab. She glanced to see Jacques swirl his chalice of fresh blood around in circles. He bloomed it while inspecting Reina with contentment, which appeared to reflect that he knew she wasn’t sure if the death was verified. Jacques reached out slowly. Sipping from his cup he abruptly cast it aside in a roar. Platinum glinting fangs descended in his ire.

  The beauty of it was so strong that the Medusa almost clapped when she noticed the Mad King suddenly gripping his own throat upon his throne. His dry, husky gasps echoed in the shocked and silent chamber.

  “Remember where to point your anger, dear friend, when carelessness is founded in the root of this house. Your daughter is the only one who followed our laws,” Jacques hissed in constrained anger.

  With that simple sentence, Nydia watched him push back from the council table the
n stand, disappearing his cup and bowing his head. His lips parted to smile before giving an exasperated sigh. She watched the man brush his hands down his attire and straighten his tie. He ran a calm hand over his bald head then held his hand out for a yawning Brandon. “We are pleased that you requested our services. We will debrief with the Princess and her team about her victory, as well as your insurgent Mr. Mer’ce about the intel he has gathered. We will work through deciphering the rest of that . . . tome you successfully found with my son, my King. We will also correct the errors, on which you failed to educate your daughter. Do remember to keep building the ranks for the One Battle. The horns have sounded and our time to play is now.”

  Calmly moving around the room, Jacques slid his hand in his pocket. Addressing the King over his shoulder, he strolled to the door. “Now please continue with your meeting; it was quite educational.”

  Brandon wrapped his arms around his father’s ankle, gleaming with a giggle, “Byeeeee, naughty Unkie! Papa, will we play with his head soon?”

  The pair disappeared in the shadows and Nydia was impressed. This was one of those moments that made her actually like the bastard. Leaning back in her chair, the Medusa crossed her legs, inwardly gloatingly grinning. Did Jacques just challenge the Mad King and win?

  Nydia often forgot that, although he was King and was a Fallen Elder, he was not an Original Fallen. He was created, unlike her mistress who was born a Cursed half breed. Her mother, the former Queen, was Light bred but given the Dark Bite. Because of this, it meant that King Caius still had to report to higher authorities and if he lapsed at any time, those authorities could do away with him at any time. In Cursed society, they had a King, but like in the earthly realm, Parliament could be a motherfucker.