Chapter Six

I fed on the pain as my body ripped itself apart. My back muscles screamed with agony as wings flared from my shoulder blades. My hair turned its deep black and grew almost to my hips. My nails extended changing to the color of blood. Reason fled where magic replaced it.

Now, Mikal, Data, Pian, Teyan, Cabe, and Brand all looked like nothing. Just flies to bat away. I pushed out my power sending all the guards to their knees over twenty feet from where they started. Zane watched me with impassive black eyes, his arms dangling at his sides.

I stepped closer watching his hands, feeling the increase of wind and power. He never moved, just watched me move closer. I lifted a hand blazing with dark power, feeling my black wings flare open behind me. Trailing my power enriched hand down his scarred cheek, I smiled.

“What did you call me?” I asked softly, lightly running my fingertips up his cheek and back. “I believe I heard you correctly when you called me migás.” I tilted my head watching, as his eyes followed the path my hand took over his jaw to his collarbone. “But I do not know if you said it out of anger or because you truly believe I am nothing but a whore’s son.”

The power in my hand disintegrated the fabric of his shirt, leaving his muscled chest open. I trailed my hand along his defined pectorals and circled his washboard abs individually. Zane’s breathing sped up, his muscles clenching in anticipation. I smirked and went back up instead. He never moved his hands besides gripping them into clenched fists. Fuck, I thought, my father must have incubus blood within him. I felt nothing at what I did next.

“You do know, though,” I started again, “By calling me migás you are saying Raidon isn’t my father. You’re saying you don’t really believe him. So, please answer me. Do you think I am nothing more than a migás, that I have no right to the powers flowing through my veins?” I moved my right wings so the feathers caressed down his left arm. He shivered. “That I have no right to even be in your presence. Am I nothing but a whore myself?”

Zane’s eyes closed briefly before opening them again and focusing on me. The look in his eyes was tortured as if he regretted ever opening his mouth. “Sygnó̱mi̱. I apologize, pouláki mou. I was angry.” I drifted my hand down again, nonchalantly touching his heated skin. He groaned aloud. “Please, ómorfos, you are torturing me.” Smirking, I leaned in closer until our noses were almost touching.

“Promise to only say something when you mean it?” He shuddered under my hand, his reaching up and clasping mine in a fierce grasp.

“Orkízomai. I swear.” I grinned, shook his hand from mine and turned away, letting my wings brush across the bulge in his pants my hands were unable to touch for fear of the reciprocation. Zane swore a long streak of Greek as I walked away. Pian, Teyan and Cabe walked beside me, occasionally glancing back at the still cursing servant to the King of the Underworld. I shrugged when Pian asked if I cared, Cabe raised a white eyebrow in my direction.

“He gets what he deserves,” I told Cabe. Even if it was a man who I did that to, at that moment, it seemed like gender had no meaning. I really needed to ask my father what type of demon blood ran through my veins.

Eventually we reached the Palace of Tartarus, the front doors opening without any one of us knocking. Holding one door open was an elderly demon. A demon doorman, had a ring to it. The demon had a stoic expression, droopy gray eyebrows and even droopier jaw. He looked more like a dog than Cabe. His short hair was the same color of his eyebrows, an old grey.  He was only slightly taller than I was and he took up space. He was rotund with dark black pants, a white undershirt and black jacket a small bow tie included. He welcomed every male with a slight smile, but when he got to me, he raised his eyebrows.

“You welcome an angel into the King’s home?” He asked with no inflection in his voice.

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” I told the butler with a straight face, flaring my wings out before closing them tight to my back. I am sure with my eyes as blue as they were and my wings, I had the butler confused. If my eyes were black, he would have had no problem with me, I thought.

I learned later that there’s a hierarchy with demon’s eye colors. If, during their transformation a demon’s eyes turned yellow, this meant that their power was low or that they were an inferior species of demon without the strength to make it into a high position. If their eyes turned white, this meant that they had some power but that depended upon the shade of white. If their eyes were almost a light shade of yellow, this meant they were on the lower spectrum. If they were a shade of pink, this meant they were higher on the spectrum, closer to red than anything.

Red eyes meant that they had a high standing with more powers than most. These types of eyes were usually found within the groups of powerful citizens of those that followed directly under the Prince of Darkness. Black eyes were the most powerful eyes. This void of color meant that they had the highest power possible. Either that, or they had royal blood flowing through their veins.

I had always thought it was just because of the tattoos on my skin that made my eyes turn black, but this seemed like it wasn’t the case. Apparently my powers were strong and I had royal blood. This seemed like it was a double whammy. I felt a twinge for those that would never be powerful, but I instantly pushed it down thinking that, at least, I was on the higher end of the power spectrum.

I heard Zane sigh before he turned back around and looked at the butler. “Thanos, this is Raidon’s son, Keiran D’Arrow.” Thanos’s eyebrows lowered as he glanced back at my wings. Luckily, for him, he didn’t comment and instead just welcomed me in the house with a wave of his hand.

Inside the palace was even bigger than the outside, it seemed. Upon entering directly to the right was a large staircase that opened up to the second level. The foyer was open for two stories, on the ceiling was a large crystal light it dangled for about three feet. To the left were two doors. One was open and led into another hall, the other one was closed. In line with the front door was another double door, the demons walked towards it and walked inside.

I followed discreetly behind and tried to pull in my gasp of surprise at what I found. The room was large, circular and probably used to be the ballroom, judging by all the doors that led outside. Instead, the room had been turned into a library and guest show room. In between the four sets of doors were seven-foot bookcases, filled with different books and trinkets. To the right in the room, two coffee tables were surrounded by a large four-person couch, two love seats and a large one-person chair.

On the other side of the room was a bar set up. A counter that could fit about ten people had only six bar stools underneath. Behind the bar was a large collection of syrups, wines, and different alcohols. I was guessing that the glasses were underneath the bar and out of sight.

Pian, Mikal and Teyan made a B-line towards the bar where they immediately began making drinks. Brand, Data, Zane, and Cabe went to the side where the couch was. Data stretched out on one of the love seats taking up the entire couch. He had a pillow beneath his head and his feet hanging off the other end.  Brand sat on the couch, leaning back and closing his eyes, resting his hands on his thighs.

Zane sat on the other loveseat, which was closest to the one person chair. He sat down, leaning against the armrest, his elbow on the rest with his chin in the palm of his hand. He crossed his ankles and watched me as I tried to figure out where to sit.

Cabe guided me to the one-person seat, where he sat me down and made sure I didn’t smash my wings against my back. He sat on right armrest. I looked over at Zane who was steadily watching me fidget with my wings. Eventually, Pian, Teyan and Mikal joined Brand on the couch where everyone looked at Zane.

“Report.” Zane said, glancing at Brand, Mikal and Data.

Data didn’t move but raised a hand, “Mikal was mauled to the ground by females. I don’t know where Brand went, but I jumped into a tree where I joined Fisher. He blamed me for the women.” Zane’s eyebrow quirked.

“Fisher was there? With whom?”

“Shadow and this other girl.” Mikal answered waving his drink at Data. “The girl teleported us out and to D’Deaux’s complex.”

“Really?” Zane asked, stroking his chin in a thoughtful motion. I shifted in my seat, my wings beginning to ache.

“She was this small half demon, but after she used so much power she—”

“Fainted.” Brand finished, cutting Mikal off with a glare.

Data grinned from his seat and winked at Brand, “Her name was Mae. Didn’t get a last name but her first name is Mae.”

“Mae? As in Mae D’Deaux?” Zane asked, the three who had met her kept quiet, Brand shifted his gaze from his boss and unconscientiously fingered the pulse at his neck. I would swear he blushed, but that didn’t seem like something he would do.

“As I said, Z, we didn’t exactly meet in the best of circumstances so we didn’t get to the part of exchanging names.” Zane frowned but didn’t correct Mikal on the use of the nickname. I shifted again, feeling even more of an ache in my back muscles from holding my wings up.

I couldn’t stand it and looked for a clock. “It’s been over twenty minutes!” I yelled, motioning the wings still protruding from my back. The demons just stared at me. “Why aren’t these going away?”

“Are you sane?” Cabe muttered from where he was perching on the hand rest of the chair I was sitting on.

“I’m sane! I swear!” I whined, glaring at the black wings that forced me to sit on the very edge of my seat. The wings were beautiful, long elegant black feathers dipped in molten silver. I stood up, and gave up on holding them to my back. I let them fall to where they kissed the floor. Cabe dropped into the seat I vacated and, reaching forward, touched one of my wings.

Fire bloomed in the pit of my stomach, nausea rising to my throat. I put a hand over my mouth, muttering, “Oh, god.” Cabe drew back his hand and the nausea retreated. I sat on the floor where I was, putting my head in my lap, wishing for the onset of dizziness to go away. I could feel everyone’s concern.

“What did you do?” I heard Zane ask Cabe, he shifted in his seat.

“All I did was touch one of his wings.”

“Don’t do it again.” I heard Zane move, then he was squatting in front of me, his hands dangling between his knees. “What’s wrong?”

“I want them to go away.” I said into the floor.

“Who, Kei, my men or your wings?”

“My wings.” I groaned, when another stab of nausea hit me. The ache in my back grew worse; I reached out and gripped Zane’s hand in mine. My hearing went out but when I looked up, Zane was gesturing and the guys were moving around, running to get whatever their boss asked for.

“Zane.” I whimpered when another rush of pain went down my back. Somehow, I had a sense that, at this moment he was the only one who had the power to help me. I was just fighting with him, why was I holding onto him? In Tartarus, it seemed my emotions were out of whack. I gripped his hand tighter, telling him wordlessly I hurt. Too bad that my own healing powers were useless on myself.

 

Sygnó̱mi̱: Sorry/Excuse me

pouláki mou: My Little Bird/nestling

Ómorfos: Beautiful/handsome

Orkízomai: I swear.