Heir of Death
Xavier Zane Westmore
I stared at the woman in horror, her gaze met mine once again and they shined like the sun for a minute, though when I was able to see again I was back in my room, well, the room I had been waking up in.
No one was in my room, but my ears were ringing, I remember a girl, not Kalama, no, this woman had curly brown-black hair or was it blonde-brown? One of her eyes was silver with a small crimson ring around it, the other was a sky blue with a light brown ring around it. Her face was like Catherine’s, her cheekbones and hair like Alarick’s, her height like his too. Her grace and body like Cat’s, the crispness of her voice like Alarick’s.
I remember nothing else, but the inky blackness that surrounded us.
Groaning I slid out of bed my muscles aching and head pounding, I heard the door open, I lifted my eyes to a panting Aaden, his ultramarine eyes shining.
“Help,” he said, that’s all he needed to, I was instantly at his side worry and fear washing through my veins.
“What’s wrong? Are y-is everything alright?” I asked being sure not to ask, are you alright.
“I’m fine,” He reassured catching on anyways. “New prisoner is out of control.” He said, I touched his shoulder and frowned, his clothes were cold. If we were in a normal atmosphere I would have brushed it off to him running, but we were in the pits of Hell. He shouldn’t be cold.
I quickly yanked on my uniform, black vest lined with silver, guardian coat, joggers, combat boots, and completely filled myself with weapons. We took off and Aaden and I shared a horrified look when we saw the doors to the throne room sealed off, with ice. Something I hadn’t seen in forever, a substance that chilled me to my bones, I touched it and yelped as it seared my skin, my body no longer used to the touch something cold.
Aaden rammed it with his shoulder and cringed as the coolness of it leaked through the thick jacket. I rammed myself into it feeling the sting of the ice, we kept repeating the process until the ice gave in and the door flew open, but oh god, the entire throne room was covered in ice. I felt my lungs close up and my body shrivel. I saw Aaden get in the same position as me, dead ass cold position.
I shifted my gaze to the woman, that woman, the one I woke up to in my head, and the look of fear on her face made my face twist up, but when her hand moved in front of my chest and ice shot over my head directly at Aaden my mind jumped onto a different track, the one deep in me to protect, to save what I needed.
Aaden, Aaden, Aaden. My mind chanted, I lunged, ripping apart my guardian jacket and locking my arms around his waist, and launched myself into the air, his arms wove around my neck.
My heart was racing, but not from the adrenaline of battle, it was the closeness of Aaden, his arms around my neck and out legs intertwined in the air, his breath was the only warm thing, and it intoxicated me. ”Focus,” He barked his nails digging into my neck. It didn’t hurt, in fact, it made me dizzy with pleasure as a shiver went down my back, but I forced my eyes back to the woman.
She was absolutely terrified, her hands shaking but I saw something deeper inside her eyes, something that was controlling her movements right now, something that knew how to bite.
Her gaze met mine, but it wasn’t her eyes that made me bite my lip, it was the look Catherine gave me when she summoned that ice wall inside Alarick’s pack mansion, it wasn’t a human look, it was the same look Aaden gave Lucia when he pinned her to the wall with daggers. Animalistic. Hungry, and protective.
Then she took out Lucifer’s wing, he cried out, an ancient sound, and crunched as he hit the ground, his eyes were blazing, then he threw the Mortal Sword, and I felt my breath hitch, praying, begging that he would miss, but I guess serving Lucifer puts you on God’s Bitch List, because that blade hit home.
I heard her bones crack, her skin break open, her scream of pure agony, the squish of her flesh, and her blood explode from her chest.
I landed quickly running over to her, I grabbed the Mortal Sword and bit down an agonizing scream as the holy blade burned my skin, incinerating me from the inside out. I tossed it aside, and Aaden began taking off his weapons, unbuttoned his vest and then stripped off his t-shirt. I took both and pressed them to her chest, but I looked over my shoulder not-so-casually at Aaden’s bare chest, strong muscles and defined body, scars dotting his skin and I shook as I held myself back. From even just touching him.
The girl’s blood didn’t stop, barely slowed, so I took of my weapons and vest, my shirt also and added it to the bundle of clothes on her chest. Her eyes closed, and fear washed through my veins but her chest still rose and fell, her blood had slowed and I choked as something in me begged to be free, to taste her blood, the blood that soaked my skin, just a little drop. To hold her face in my hands, to clutch her neck until the life left her, to take one of the many weapons around me and finish her before the lack of blood does.
I looked away and Aaden asked. “Do you need to leave?” I looked over at him and he shooed me off, I struggled off my footing lose, something fighting for control, roaring to be free, to kill, to taste blood. To feed.
Stumbling into the side room of Aaden’s room was when I lost control, a feeling I hated, imagine if you had all your rights stripped and someone controlled your actions like you were a puppet on strings, but you could feel, hear, smell, everything. Though do nothing to stop it. Times that by ten, and you know how I feel.
I heard Aaden lock the door and the demon beat on the walls, punching, kicking, ramming. It threw itself at the glass, doing any damage to itself, anything it could to feel pain, it ripped at its flesh howled in agony, pummeled at the door.
“Let me out!” It beckoned, I paled, Aaden would never fall for it. It has my voice, and never spoke before it met Kalama, and Kalama, I was still trying to fathom that subject. I am your Queen and Lucifer is the King, and Westmore is her last name. Kalama said to me people know her as Thanatos, the Greek god of Death.
I’m the Heir of Death.
The demon repeated that to me, over and over, to anger me, while I was in control that’s all I heard, all I saw, it was a fit of ripping anger through my body and the only cure was Aaden, but he defiantly hates me now.
The handle began to jiggle and a deep giggle left the demon’s lips, Aaden opened the door and the demon lunged, Aaden made a strangled sound as he collided with the carpeted ground, his cloak fluttering.
“Xavier-” He stopped when he saw my eyes, “shit,” He finished and the demon launched itself up, right at the woman who slept soundlessly on his bed. Aaden’s hands locked around my shoulders and he forced me to the ground before I reached her, his body covered my back, my wings sprawling out.
The demon froze, as the sparks from Aaden’s body flowed through me like a flood, the demon groaned. Aaden stiffened above me but was smart enough not to get up.
I could tell he got an idea when he reached under my shirt, his hand traveling up my side, my mind flat lined instantly, my body temperature skyrocketed, his hand worked over my neck and heat flared in my groin.
Aaden yanked me up and tossed me back into the room and it took the demon a second to realize Aaden wasn’t following. It roared throwing itself against the door again.
After a while it finally gave up and slumped into a corner, it was the dawn of the next day when I finally got control back, and I was starving. Tired too.
I banged on the door my vision tilting and strength fading. “Aaden open the fucking door! I’m going to pass the fuck out! Get me food!” I demanded.
The handle shook but who opened the door wasn’t Aaden, it was the girl. I went rigid. While I sitting idly with the demon, I remembered her, the weird AfterImage too. How she was asking about blood bonds, Gabriels Lock, how I told her about Secrets of the Temple.
She was terrified, it was obvious by the shake of her hands, but the unending sadness in her eyes made me frown, the agony that lay behind her striking eyes reminded me, not everyone is happy up there.
“Hello...” I said slowly, she just released the handle and walked away. “are you alright?” I asked and she just nodded. “Fayre, am I right?” I continued, once again, just a nod. Her eyes were glazed as if she was thinking, not of something, of someone.
“I need the Mortal Sword, or I need to get out of here, I am dying, slowly and painfully, Rafael Eshmun has been healing me, Crisslia Westmore is trying to find Collbrande, Van-Catherine and R-Alarick are trying to figure out Gabrial's Lock, I assume, and now, I am stuck here." She growled her hands shaking, mad was a putting her anger to shame.
"Listen," I said walking closer to her, but she gave a look over her shoulder that told me to stop. "I'll get you out of here, I've met Rafael, and Cat, obviously, I can contact every person you just named off, I just need time to sort out a plan," I told her.
"How much time, because mine is near." She said her eyes blank, void. Her face was bleak, it was a mask to hide what she really felt, no one her age should be able to have such a perfect one.
"I don't know, I know where a holy weapon is though, not the Mortal Sword, no, it was made from it so it's half mortal, why do you need it?" I asked and she stiffened.
"I have an angelic cancer-" She began.
"Angel's Break?" I cut in and she gave me a sharp look but nodded nonetheless. "How? Only full blooded angles can get it, you shouldn't have a drop of angelic blood in you."
"I don't know!" She barked her hands turning to fists, "All I know is the moment I touched the Mortal Sword I felt better, instantly, I need a holy weapon, Rafael said it could cure me."
"The holy weapon I can get ahold of is half holy, so it will only work for a bit before it's holiness diminishes. Ok?" I asked and she nodded, then turned around and winced, laying a hand over her chest.
"Try not to think about it, if it starts bleeding slow your breathing and think of a happy place, it will slow your heart rate and blood flow," I explained to her, her blank gaze fixed back on me.
"It won't matter anyway, I also don't have a happy place," She muttered her eyes so, so lifeless.
"What happened?" I asked she swallowed tears filling her eyes, but when they fell her mask didn't crack.
"I was forced into a mold I didn't fit, couldn't fit, for eighteen years, almost, it damaged me, no freedom, no hope, constant berating, and belittling. It breaks people, forms them into heartless monsters." She said, her voice slipping out anger.
"Did no one care for you?" I asked reaching for her, but when my hand touched her arm, she jumped away from me, then winced.
"Yes, Jolie and Neil, though Jolie lives in Alabama and Neil lives in Utah, I lived in Texas." She finished her eyes watering, I frowned, Catherine doesn't have any family, nor Alarick besides Vincent. "Before you ask, no, I didn't live with Catherine and Alarick, they put me with humans to protect me they said. They saved me from them, but my human mom tried to kill me." She once again said clearing her throat.
"Your joking?" I asked and she shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself, she was sweating from every pore on her body, she needs to be hydrated or she won't be dying just from Angels Break. "Let's go get some food," I said and she nodded, her eyes slightly brightening.
"I need new clothes," She pointed out, and I agreed, all she wore was a bra and bandages around her chest. She will be raped in a heartbeat.
"I have a friend," I said taking off my shirt and handing it to her she didn't bother to smile as she slipped it over her head, I swallowed and walked out, she stayed close to me, her hair dark in the warm light of Lucifer's castle.
Her different colored eyes shined with pain, she was twisting her fingers together and gnawing on her bottom lip, her legs shook slightly and she looked deathly pale, and something told me it wasn't just the lighting.
She hobbled down the stairs and I helped her walk to the dining room, she collapsed onto a bench and I went to go get her food.
I piled as much as I could and turned back around, I paled when I saw her head slumped on the table her lips a gray color, I darted over to her shaking her, but her skin was cold, like ice. I shook her harder but she was limp. "Fayre!" I barked setting the plate down and kneeling down, I felt for her pulse, it was a full damn minute before I felt a pulse, then another minute before another pulse.
She's dying, quickly. "Fayre, wake up!" Nothing. Shit shit, I thought and ran over to a man in a black mask, his clothing was also completely black with an obsidian blade. "She's dying! Her mother's a zodiac, she needs the Mortal Sword!" I said quickly and I saw the man stiffen, just a quarter.
The man lifted his wrist and tapped his watch a few times, then followed me back over to Fayre. Who still hadn't moved an inch. He took off his glove and felt under her nose, but her breath was far too shallow to feel, he felt her pulse and took off his mask, his striking green eyes ran over her face and his dark black hair with blonde tips fell into his eyes as he slipped off his hood, his face though, the low glow of his eyes told me exactly who I was looking at.
I couldn't help but stare, he looked so much like his dad, mom too, but holy hell. "Yes, I am Yancy's son," He said extending his now re-gloved to me. "Colby Dakota Swanson."
"Xa-" I began
"I know, everyone knows a pretty boy like you," He sounded bitter as he said it and picked Fayre up, her arm fell limply to the side just as Lucifer exploded into the dining area, silence instantly took over the noise.
"Where. Is. She?" He boomed his lavender eyes scanning over the crowd, the similarities made me choke. Silence followed in response. "Where is my weapon!" He roared and gaze shifted over to me. "Bring her to me, Swanson." He said and Colby's eyes glazed over as his earring shined, he moved over to her, his movements robotic.
"Stop!" I said reaching for him, but my earring flared with light and my arm froze as pain flooded through me, my demon stirred.
Lucifer grabbed Fayre as if all she was is an item and left, as the doors shut my earring stopped and I dropped to one knee as my mind regained control, I saw Colby was in the same position. I shot up and tore after him but when I tried opening the throne room but it was locked. I cursed like Yancy would have and kept kicking at it and ramming it.
Nothing and I doubt asking to be let in would do much but get me killed.
"Come with me," A soft voice said behind me as a light ocean breeze scent filled my nose. I spun around to be met with brilliant red eyes, soft chestnut hair and pale, ivory skin. I swallowed.
"Kalama," I said my voice cracking slightly, she nodded and walked off, her black dress swaying, she looked like a demon goddess. I hesitated for a moment before hurrying after her.
She pulled a silver-purple skeleton key from the folds of her dress and slid it through a wall, she turned it and it creaked open, I raised my brow in surprise. She slipped into it and I did after, the door vanished as I looked over my shoulder and I heard screaming. I bolted running towards it only darkness around me, I exploded into the throne room my heart racing.
Lucifer looked over his shoulder raising the Mortal Sword over his head and I lunged a sword appeared in my grasp and I quickly realized it was the red one, my sword, I drove it down and a satisfying crunch filled the room as the sword pierced through his back and out through his chest. He screamed in agony and fell on his side, I heard Kalama scream behind me.
Fayre crawled backward fear in her eyes, they flashed silver-white for a minute and the floor iced over, Lucifer just cleaned it up from last time.
I walked over to Fayre and helped her stand, she slumped against me her skin freezing. I swallowed and looked back at Lucifer, Kalama was looking at me her eyes completely black and all of her teeth sharpened. I instantly realized I fucked up, especially when she lunged at me claws snapping out of her nails. Frost exploded across her chest and she howled falling onto the ground, Lucifer made a roar of rage and I swoopted up Fayre and darted, the throne room door had vanished.
Spinning on my heel I darted for the black iron door in the corner of the room, I slammed my shoulder into it and it burst open, I stumbled down the stone steps and down the musty halls, it was thick but dry, heavy and the walls were made of clay, lit by torches. Cells, dozens by the minute.
Most were full, some weren't but I passed one that made me do a double take, I jammed my heels into the dirt, stones and debris flying up, I whirled my head to the cell and gasped my heart screeching to a stop. I set Fayre on the ground, her body cold. Though my focus was on the body in the cell.
The man lifted his head, his once bright hair shaved to stubs and dirtier than the dirt he lied on, shackles were chained to his wrists and ankles and his wings had been ripped off, not cut, ripped, one is much worse than the other. His eyes no longer glowed but I could see their cyan blue eyes, he blinked squinting at me, I was gaping my hands wrapping around the bars and his shackles rustled as he moved.
"Xavier?" The voice croaked, he sounded so different, as if he hadn't spoken in forever.