XXIX

"I heard you caused quite the commotion in the Styx earlier. However, did you manage to get two women to fight over you? You've made Gabriel extremely jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Gabriel spat at Kat's casual taunting.

Raphael refrained from facing them immediately. He'd only just finished making an offering of power to their Lord, using one of the smaller sacriforiums. The act, as usual, left him drained and irritable.

When he finally passed a look over his shoulder, Kat stared back at him with a smirk that slipped under his skin like a razor blade. Gabriel was scowling, his cheeks painted a brilliant scarlet. The sight was enough to lift Raphael's spirits some.

"You're jealous," Raphael confirmed as he closed the sacriforium's door. "Uninspired and tacky too."

The color on Gabriel's cheeks flared. "One of them was clearly under demonic thrall. Only fuckwits, and amateurs too eager to wet their dicks, allow their influence to take root so deeply," he said while sneering pointedly at Raphael. "You'd think after all these years you could manage some semblance of self-control. Or is that another limitation of your deformed powers?"

Raphael kept his expression in check, but there was no denying the anger that seethed inside him. He offered a one-shouldered shrug. "So, what if I overdid it? My reputation can take the hit. Yours though?" He tsked and stepped into the other demon's face, continuing in a sotto voice, "A demon of lust who has to drug his partners because his powers are as flaccid as his—"

"Boys, boys, please," Kat chuckled. "You're both far too easy to rile today. Do get your heads on straight." Raphael speared Kat with a glare and took two steps back.

"Bitch," Gabriel spat.

Kat fluttered her lashes and simpered momentarily before leveling Gabriel with a look of contempt. "The fight may have been tactless between the Delacroix woman and whoever that nobody was,"— Tanyel , Raphael filled in wordlessly. Her head was torn off by Annette in their lust-induced rage—"But at least Raphael got a meal out of it and offered up the excess to our Lord. Which is more than you've ever done, and you're a full-fledged demon." Kat took a moment to toss her long dark hair over her shoulder, then told Gabriel with saccharine sweetness, "Now fuck off like a good whipping boy and let the grownups talk."

Gabriel bristled. "Excuse me?"

Kat rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively. "You had your shot at the banshee and fucked it all to hell at the Lunar Court's little ball. There's nothing I can do to fix that, and if you've forgotten, it's every demon for themself. Now. Fuck. Off."

"Quit acting like you're better than the rest of us."

"It's not an act."

Raphael watched as the two waged a silent battle of wills, enjoying far too much when Gabriel broke first. He spun away from them with a scoff. He flung another flurry of derogatory names at random under his breath as he strode away.

"Finally," Kat bemoaned. "I'd thought he'd never leave."

Raphael eyed her dubiously. "On the outs?"

Kat scoffed. "Like I said, it's every demon for themself. You've got a better set of horns than Gabriel and you're a mongrel. Gabriel's nothing more than a puppy who happily laps at the heels of his master. Besides, I let him into my bed the other evening and it was all so—" Kat scrunched her nose "— vanilla ."

"How disappointing for you," Raphael offered in condolence and began to follow in Gabriel's footsteps. Before the fight between Annette and Tanyel broke out, he'd received a sealed message from a dormouse. Inside was a summons from Stella to talk about the book exchange. It wasn't the subtlest of messages, and yet…

His lips twitched traitorously upward. Things are going just as I planned.

"Where are you going?" Kat demanded falling into step beside Raphael.

"To do grownup things."

His sardonic reply was not well received.

Kat snatched him by the bicep and yanked him to a stop. His eyes bulged slightly at the use of supernatural strength to prevent him from leaving. A harsh and equally forceful rebuke was on the tip of his tongue when his gaze landed on her sociopathic smile. Raphael's molars snapped together.

"I've been watching you, Raphael, and I must say I find it interesting you used the word uninspired for Gabriel. Haven't you been playing the white knight for the banshee? I heard you attempted to seduce her at her doorstep with a little kiss. Couldn't you strive for a little more originality? You already give our kind a bad name; a demon like Gabriel can hardly afford any more flack for being a demon of lust."

"Seduce her at her doorstep?" Raphael asked somewhat incredulously. He ripped his arm out of her taloned hold and smoothed his sleeve down. "Not my style."

The white knight act wasn't his style either, but the facts said otherwise. He'd carried her off to safety twice . Granted, the latter was in a far more public setting than the first, but a kiss at her doorstep? That had never happened.

"Seduce. Molest ." Kat shrugged and her wicked smile deepened at the confusion growing over Raphael's expression. "Taking a page out of Gabriel's book with the banshee? I never would have taken you for the type."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Raphael demanded.

A flash of the devil entered Kat's eyes. "Shall I demonstrate for you?"

Raphael couldn't move fast enough away from her. Not with how close they were already standing. One moment, there was an arm's length between them; the next, her palm was flat against his soulmark, trailing a slow path downward. Nails included. Raphael hissed but didn't back away. Not when such cruel delight shone in her black eyes.

Not when giving the viper an inch would invite further advances.

"Ringing any bells?" Kat purred. Her hand slipped past his belt and over the front of his pants until he caught it in the steel trap of his hand. Kat's devilish smirk wavered as his grip turned bruising.

"Now who's taking a page out of Gabriel's book?"

Raphael shoved her back. "I don't know what sick little fantasy you just tried to act out on me, but I never put my hands on Stella like that. Apparently, you haven't been watching me closely enough. Or maybe you just made it up, hmm? A bit of a fever dream about yours truly?" He taunted.

Kat's chest rose and fell in quick bursts before calming and narrowing her eyes. She stayed silent a second longer as she assessed him, then tossed her head back and laughed.

Raphael cringed away. Her maniacal laughter was garnering attention.

"Oh yes," Kat confirmed through her laughter. "It must have been a dream . Honestly, stupid must run in your family." She peeled off into another round of laughter. The sound of it rubbed him the wrong way.

All of her rubs me the wrong way.

And then her words caught up with him. Raphael went still. His blood grew icy. "What did you just say?"

"Layla's become my very own lackey. It's pathetic, really, how eagerly she follows orders. Well, as eagerly as a demoness of despair can. You know how the adage goes. I say jump, she asks how high. I say kill yourself, and she asks in what way." Kat's cackle hacked at his last nerves as if they were rusty garden sheers. He knew she was using her demonic influence.

The show of power was not lost on him, and he didn't like it one bit. When did her power increase?

"She got me this recently." Kat pulled a necklace out from her shirt, displaying the smokey quartz on its end. "Well, I told her to get it for me. Semantics and all that. She nicked it from one of the clan's rooms even with their wards up, thanks to those nifty little mongrel powers of hers." Raphael's hands clenched at his side to keep from strangling her. Kat noticed and oozed with pride. "It's too bad she can't seem to earn her horns. We'll have to put her down soon… if the Medici don't do it first."

Raphael swallowed roughly, tempted to stay silent. He didn't trust Kat, but he couldn't let a threat to Layla go unfettered.

"Why would the Medici seek to harm her?"

Kat stepped toward him, hips swinging with feminine grace as she did. A new gleam scored her eyes. Hunger. "A little birdie must have had a slip of the tongue." Kat toyed coyly with a strand of hair resting near her breast. "Now poor Layla's involvement in the whole debacle might be known to them. Which might also conveniently—oops, I meant, coincidentally mean that the Veles clan might blame Layla too."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Raphael said between clenched teeth.

Kat cooed mockingly at him. "Oh, come now, Raphael. I know there's a brain behind that beautiful face of yours. Put the pieces together with me. The Medicis' documents were magically tampered with and went up in literal flames, and with it, their chance at becoming a Minor Household while fighting with the Veles clan.

"The very same fight that ruined the sorcerers' edict from being overturned. It only makes sense that the person who tampered with said documents got the blame put on them, don't you think? Raphael? Are you listening to me?"

Raphael's hand snapped out and grabbed Kat's wrist as she waved her hand in front of his face. She smiled beatifically at him.

"You were listening! Excellent." Kat tried to pull her wrist out of his hold, but Raphael couldn't get himself to let go. All he saw was red, and it had nothing to do with his demonic side. The soulmark was undoubtedly a wrench in his plans, but he was dealing with it.

This threat to Layla? How could Raphael protect her from a whole family of pissed-off vampyrés and a vengeful sorcerer clan? Kat's gaze grew feverish as she breathed in his ire and anxiety. Raphael hissed, his anger doubling to near-volcanic levels at her uninvited taste.

"You're practically seething , Raphael. I love it. There's no one else who tastes quite like you do. I should endanger your sister more often if this is how you'll react every time." She laughed at his attempt to calm himself and released her with an effort that was disturbingly hard for him. "Oh, come now, don't be such a spoilsport. Layla will be fine… probably. It's not as if there's any proof of her involvement. It's all hearsay."

Raphael backpedaled away from her. "Where is she?"

For a moment, he wasn't sure if she would answer. Then she heaved a sigh and gestured to the left. "So predictable," she chastised with a slight sneer. "The Immolatory. But before you go running off, I wanted to tell you one last thing. I've been working hard on something special for you." She trailed her hand down her front, toying with the necklace's crystal that hung between her breasts.

Raphael rolled his eyes at her lame attempt at baiting him and began to walk to the Immolatory. Its oversized door was inlaid with gold in an uninterrupted pattern of curving lines that made it stand out from all others.

"Hey! Where are you going? You don't walk away from me , Raphael. Raphael!"

He ignored the looks from demons passing by, and though haste coursed through his veins, he opened the door with all the calm he managed to recover outside Kat's reach. That her reach extended a fair distance was worrying enough, but he couldn't afford to entertain it at the moment.

He needed to speak with Layla about this news and share his own. Thankfully, Kat hadn't lied about her whereabouts. Indeed, as Raphael closed the door to the Immolatory behind him, he noted Layla as the sole occupant of the room. He wasn't too surprised. Though the magnificent hall could hold a dozen demons with ease, it rarely did. The Immolatory was for more than meager offerings and bestowments like the sacriforiums.

The sheering of horns.

Rune working.

And of course, sacrifices.

One other event took place in the room. One Raphael would never forget. It was where new demons ascended. A knot formed in his throat as he walked farther into the room. He bowed his head respectfully to the towering idol of their Lord, his pace slowing as memories long since buried rose from the dead.

How they awoke on the cold dais in their blood-soaked clothes. The fresh terror and sorrow in Layla's eyes as she reached for him… and had her hand crushed beneath a booted foot for her show of weakness.

Raphael had been too weak to stop them, and so he did the only thing he could think of to draw their attention away. Talk, or rather, attempt to charm them into forgetting Layla was there.

He didn't remember what he said, but it had worked, if only for a little while. Then their welcoming committee of demons had gotten on with their introductory spiel. They informed them of the transformation that had transpired, their demon classes, and their new purpose in life to serve their Lord.

What he did remember was the confusion that struck him when they told them their demon classes and explained them. It had been its own special blow to learn their class was determined by the primary emotion they carried into death.

Layla's had been sorrow and fear.

Raphael's love.

"What are you doing here?"

Raphael blinked. He stood a foot or so behind his kneeling sister on the dais. Layla frowned up at him.

He summoned a smile. "I haven't checked in on you in a while." He ruffled her hair, subtly checking to see if any telling bumps could be found near the side of her head. There weren't.

Layla's frown deepened as she flattened her hair. "That wasn't nice."

"Sorry. Here, let me help you."

"I don't need your help." Layla shied away from his offered hands and rose. "Why are you here?"

"To check up on you and update you on my mission." Layla perked up marginally. He cleared his throat. "I haven't yet asked Jax to join us, but I doubt I'll have to. He moved out of the Vranas' suite and into his lab, and he's been asking me more about being a ‘free agent'. I don't even think he's working on a cure for Irina anymore. I'm merely waiting on Irial's order to pull the trigger."

"Does that mean you were able to sabotage him?"

Raphael grinned for her. "It was almost too easy. All I had to do was put a few extra drops into a potion."

Layla tried to mimic his grin, but it fell woefully short. "And the grimoire?"

"I should have my hands on it tonight."

"What of the banshee? Is she still alive?"

"She is."

"Why? What's stopping you?" Her intensity took him aback, but he softened as he recognized the ocean of worry in her eyes.

He cast his gaze surreptitiously about the room and then stopped himself. It was a pointless gesture. Observation of the sacriforiums or the Immolatory from the Ether was forbidden.

"There was a change in my directive." Layla blanched and Raphael hurried to explain himself. "Don't worry; I'm taking a new route with her, is all. Everything I'm doing now is to build up trust with Stella. Small things add up, remember? Besides, I have to be close to her to kill her, don't I?"

Layla shook her head. "Poison her and be done with it."

Raphael's mouth opened and then closed. It was an obvious solution—a good solution. His Adam's apple buckled as his soulmark somehow made his insides balk at the idea.

"Brilliant idea. I'll keep it in mind if my directive changes back." Layla didn't look convinced.

Her shoulders hunched forward even as she glanced back with longing at the statue of their Lord. "Is it true they're going to bind the sorcerer to him?"

Again, Raphael found himself taken aback. He sifted through his memories before finally giving a tentative nod.

"I believe so, Irial told me as much."

"I want to be bound to him. I would be his most loyal servant."

Raphael swallowed thickly at the longing in her voice. Bindings, as far as he knew, were reserved for Dukes and Duchesses. The powerful who could withstand such direct ties to their Lord. Raphael studied the unabashed ache of Layla's yearning and felt a pang of pity.

She's nowhere near strong enough.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, bringing her mournful gaze back to him. "You wouldn't survive it," he told her gently. Tears clouded her vision as she dropped her gaze to the floor. Raphael tried to catch her eye, but she ignored his attempts. " Maybe if you had horns."

"I know," Layla confessed. "I haven't done enough to deserve them. But I can be strong. I can do what needs to be done." Her voice grew stronger, and a shudder went through her body. "I can be wicked."

Raphael squeezed her shoulder, prepared to reassure her once more when every muscle in his body tensed as Layla looked up at him. Fresh cuts adorned her face. Runes.

"You're hurting me."

"What?" Raphael asked breathlessly.

Layla tried to worm away from him. Instantly, Raphael let go of her shoulder. She stepped away, rubbing at where he held her so tight.

"Sorry," he offered up quickly, but he couldn't stop staring at her face. Twin runes marred the skin under her eyes. "Your face," Raphael tried to explain. "You're bleeding."

Her head tilted to the side. Small beads of blood welled up from the delicate incisions. Layla lifted her hands to her face. Her fingers probed upward until they met with the new embellishments.

A moan slipped from her mouth.

The primal sound of it turned his stomach sour. No, this is good , Raphael told himself. She's getting stronger before your eyes . He only wished it didn't put him so on edge.

Layla was in rapture over her new runes with her eyes closed and her head tilted back. Her fingers smeared the blood as they traced each line and curved cut with reverence. She sighed and her lashes fluttered open. Raphael watched with strange trepidation as her hands curved up the side of her face into her hairline, seeking out the hint of horns.

Hope seized him briefly again before it tumbled to the ground between them at Layla's sob. Her anguish permeated the air, so poignant that Raphael's heart shattered. She began to pace.

"Layla, it's going to be okay. They'll come. The runes are a sign." His heart hurt. His soul hurt. "You need to calm down. Nothing was ever resolved high on emotion. You know it as well as I do."

How many times had they told that to each other growing up when their mother brought trouble into their house? How many times did they beg each other to be safe? Raphael's throat tightened as he grabbed one of her frantically searching hands from her hair as she passed him and pulled her into his chest. Her tears dampened his shirt as he tried to shush her. Not even a minute into his attempts, Layla gave a frustrated cry and launched herself out of his arms.

Raphael stared at her wide-eyed. He'd never seen her so worked up. Not in this life, at least.

"They'll never come if I don't do something worthy of misery and wretchedness. Of true heartbreak." Her features crumbled into despair and self-loathing as she said to him, "I need to prove myself. Don't you see?"

Raphael could barely hold her eye. What do I say? What do I do?

He didn't know how to protect her from herself and these poisonous thoughts. Raphael glanced at his feet, thinking, thinking, thinking as fast as he could. But any hint of a solution fell through his fingers like fine sand. All he could offer her was his support and love, but would she accept it? Raphael turned his regard back to Layla, only to find her staring at him fully composed.

He blinked, his gaze raking over her. Her previous agitation was completely snuffed.

"I know what to do," Layla told him quietly, her stare intense. Vibrant, even. Alive .

"Good," Raphael rushed to say. "That's good, Lay."

Layla's posture relaxed and her voice remained soft. "Will you help me deliver something in a few nights?"

"I thought you didn't need your big brother's help?" He teased with forced levity and a shaky grin.

"I need you," Layla intoned somberly. The hair on his forearms lifted, and unwittingly, his attention drew to her new runes.

This is good , Raphael reminded him. This. Is. Good.

"What do you need help delivering? You know I'll always help you, however I can."

Her mouth twisted in disapproval. "I'm not allowed to say." Layla glanced away. "But I need an escort. Someone I can trust." Raphael's heart swelled… and then burst into flames at her next words. "The Medici aren't pleased with me. They found out I was involved somehow in that whole mess in the Styx." Layla's brow scrunched down. "I don't know how though. My only talent is the way I can walk through these halls, like a ghost undetected. It's all I have, Raph. I can't lose that."

A hand moved to the side of her head. She rubbed the place where her would-be horn might emerge. Raphael's mouth pressed into a firm line.

"I know exactly how they found out. Kat."

Layla's eyes narrowed on him in an instant. "That's not true."

"It is," he snapped back. "She just told me as much."

"She wouldn't. I don't believe you." The vehemence behind Layla's defense left him shaken. "I have to go now," Layla announced, "but I have a message for you."

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "From?"

Layla said nothing.

"Fine," he grossed. "I have somewhere to be too. What's this message then?"

"You need to make the banshee dream."

Raphael stilled very slightly. "Understood."

Layla's shoulders drooped, and with them, her perpetual shroud of sadness and wariness returned. Raphael's heart twisted with unease.

"I'll get in touch when I need you," she said and before Raphael could say another word, she left him alone.