A month had passed since the Defiled fight in Shulan. A month since she’d Enchanted Matt to sleep with her. Over a month since she’d seen Belial.
Yomi laid across the inn bed, staring up at the sheer, softly swaying canopy. She traced the slight curve of her stomach with the tips of her fingers and allowed the myriad thoughts that plagued her to each spend time at the forefront of her mind.
What would her child be like? Her body hadn’t changed so much visually yet, but a slew of other side effects were taking hold. The morning ills that cramped and nauseated her came more consistently, and the pendulum of emotions she suffered were difficult to suppress. Was Matt upset? She shifted between guilt and resolution often, wishing she could apologize and thank him in equal measure.
Where was Belial?
Yomi turned to her side, her thin black shift pooling above her panties. She’d been away from home for so long, and she missed her own bed, her own four walls, and the scent of her house. Cailu’s frustrations with her when she’d left him were palpable. Enough so that the thought of going home and finding a guard waiting for her to drag her back to his side plagued her nightmares.
But, when she finally did… Maybe then she could start to make her own way as Ravyn had. She could move to Ni and maybe Matt would take her into his party.
No, that was too much to ask. Yomi was certain his forgiveness would be a hard-won thing.
A cool breeze slipped through the cracked open window, caressing Yomi’s bare legs and tail. Goosebumps followed in their wake, and she shivered. She’d pulled the curtains closed, but even they couldn’t hide the fact that it was the middle of the day outside. While a reprieve from fighting and Cailu’s constant criticism was welcome, it also offered time to think. And feel. Yomi wasn’t sure she enjoyed doing either.
The breeze continued past her, flowing to the room’s vanity where she’d stacked the three remaining books on [Dark Priest] and [Demonology] that served her any use. She’d returned to the library only to pay for all of them without a word. The catgirls in charge seemed more than happy to let them go. Ever since, she’d read them cover to cover multiple times, memorizing every word and diagram within them all. They were the only companions she had left.
The gentle current shifted suddenly into a strong gust, propelling the top book from the stack onto the floor. Yomi slowly raised herself from the pillows, watching as the covers flew open and the pages turned with the wind. The wind came to a halt, leaving the book open to the design the [Dark Priest] had drawn in her house so long ago. A violet glow emitted from the circle and enveloped the book. Opaque streams of purple vapors emerged from the pages, rising higher and higher until they widened and sculpted themselves into a familiar shape.
“Belial,” Yomi whispered, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.
Golden eyes blinked behind jet-black fur. Polished ebony horns swept back from his head. The demon shuddered, adjusting his great maw as if waking from a deep slumber.
“Yomi. You have need of me?” his dark baritone resonated in her ears.
Yomi was torn between tears and laughter. Incredulity won over them both. “I needed you four weeks past,” she snapped. “Where were you?”
Belial clenched his fists and unfurled his fingers. The lion’s tail whipped behind him, and he shifted on his mighty hooves. “You are not my only Master, young one.”
She stood, and weeks of anger bubbled in her stomach, searing her veins before escaping her throat. “You’ve promised to be there for me when I need you. You’ve never abandoned me before.”
He blinked again, watching her carefully. “I did not abandon you, Yomi. Have I not satisfied your pleasures when you request? Defeated your enemies when you call my name?”
A furious blush darkened her cheeks. It was true; she’d lost count of the times Belial had answered her lustful beckons and aided her in battle. But that’s why… That’s why… “Yes! And that’s why I trust for you to come when I summon you!”
“When we forged our pact, your offer included my free will.” A cold like the chill of a graveyard at midnight punctuated his words. “I am here, Yomi. I did not abandon you.”
“Why did it take so long?” Yomi cried. “We nearly died in that fight! When we survived, I thought I’d die anyway by Cailu’s hand.” Hot tears threatened behind her eyes as she dropped her gaze and touched her stomach. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”
Belial approached her and inhaled deeply of her scent. A low growl rumbled in his throat. He covered her hand with his and murmured, “This progeny does not belong to Cailu.”
“No,” Yomi admitted quietly.
“Then who?” Belial asked, his voice still carrying a cold blade.
Yomi bit her lip, then said, “Another man in Nyarlea.”
“Has he a death wish?” Belial dropped his hand and stepped away from her. “Your accounts of Cailu would suggest as much.”
“Cailu is not a problem anymore.” Still, Yomi felt her resolve melting into guilt. “I… I forced Matt to sleep with me.”
Belial’s eyes widened infinitesimally, but the reaction was enough to tie knots in Yomi’s throat. She could hear his teeth grinding behind his lips and see the tension building in his throat.
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His next words were slow, careful, dangerous. “Do you know the true task of a demon in Hell, Yomi?”
Yomi had a few guesses but thought it better to keep them to herself. She shook her head.
“To punish the damned for eternity,” he snarled. “There is a special place for those who force their will thus onto the innocent.”
Her toes curled, and a shiver ran down her spine. She had never seen him so angry. What had she done?
Belial brought his arms to his chest, shaping each hand into a half circle as if preparing to cast a spell. The muscles of his abdomen flexed, and an ancient, unfamiliar language rumbled from his mouth.
Yomi took a step back, bumping into the bed and gripping the sides. “Belial—”
The chant continued and a black blaze radiated from the demon’s hands. More purple vapors coated the floor, warping and morphing into a growing mass of thick tendrils. The smoke vanished, leaving behind a blood-red, undulating mass writhing on the slick floorboards. A dozen tentacles connecting from its surface squirmed in the air as if seeking purchase.
Yomi squeaked and leapt onto the bed. “What is that? A Defiled?” she squealed.
“Your Defiled would not last a day in our care,” Belial snapped. “And nor, I believe, would you.”
“Belial, wait!”
As if hearing her voice, four of the tendrils turned toward Yomi, their bulbous heads bending in her direction. As she scrambled backward, they launched forward and snapped around her wrists and thighs.
She struggled against the hold, kicking and flailing with myriad grunts. “Let me go!”
Two more sinuous limbs laced around her ankles, forcing her legs straight and rendering her vulnerable.
“If you so wish to be damned, you will see what eternity holds for you,” Belial growled.
A separate tendril slid beneath Yomi’s shift, sliding beneath her breasts until it reached the hem at her neck. She trembled as the tip bent forward, then tore the fabric away from her body.
Yomi stared at the canopy while she caught her breath. The high descended inch by inch, and logic gradually returned with it. A new breeze caressed her skin and hair, and a long finger traced the markings around her navel.
“Why did you call it away?” Yomi asked quietly.
“Hell may befit you after all, Yomi of Nyarlea,” Belial replied.
Yomi smirked. “Did it anger you to see me pleasured by another demon?”
He was silent.
Her smile disappeared. She had expected another curt answer regarding his lack of feelings for those who walked above. The same kind of answer she’d received each time before when asking about matters of Hell. “Belial. I’m sorry.”
“I do not wish to see you damned. And I do not wish to see you hurt.” Belial stood and collected his discarded loincloth. “I will never abandon you.”
“Belial—”
But he was gone.
