Good Intentions (The Road to Hell Series, Book 1) (14 page)

Kobal

“Wait…
what
?” River sputtered.

I couldn’t help but smile at the confusion in her voice as my finger trailed over the small scar on her eyebrow. Touching her helped to ease some of the burden and wrath that had been a part of me since the moment I’d been born. It was the strangest sensation, to feel freed in such a way by this frail mortal, and I didn’t want it to stop.

“There is only one varcolac in existence at any given time. When that one dies, another rises from the Fires of Creation to take their place. I was born from those fires and rose within the chamber as you see me now. The varcolac before me was a woman who lived for sixty years.”

“Why is there only one at a time?”

“Because there can only be one ruler of Hell at a time.”

“
You
are the rightful ruler of Hell?”

“I am, and I
will
be the one to see Lucifer cast aside and defeated. I am the most powerful of my kind to ever rise. I will not fail in this.”

“So you are not born of two demons?”

“I am born of anguish, hate, pride, torment, wrath, envy, lust, greed, and sorrow. I am born of the suffering of the souls and of the necessity to replace a leader who had fallen. Before Lucifer arrived, there had been only six varcolacs born in Hell over a couple hundred thousand years. They were killed during battles with other demons. In the six thousand years Lucifer has been in Hell, there have been over fifty varcolacs. I have survived the longest and am the eldest demon now. I was born with the knowledge of what I am and what I am to carry out. I have none of the memories of my predecessors, but I
know
I am to rule.”

“Why are varcolacs the rulers?”

“We have always been the strongest of the demons. Varcolacs are the fastest and by far the most brutal. I fight with the fires of Hell on my side. We are also the only kind who can create and open a natural gateway within Hell, as well as close it. The varcolac also controls the hellhounds.”

“Those are real?” she breathed.

“They are, and they’re more ferocious than you could imagine. They obey my every command. I have left most of them in Hell, guarding the seals to keep Lucifer from opening them.”

As her pulse quickened, I cradled her cheek with my palm, looking to comfort her in some way, though I had no idea how to do so or why I wanted to do it.

“Why do they obey you?” she inquired.

“The first pair of hellhounds was also born of the fires with the first varcolac. Though those firsts have all since died, I still share a kindred spirit with the hounds that is forged through the fires. Unlike me, the hounds are able to breed others like them, but like demons they can only do so with their mate.”

“Amazing,” she whispered. “If you were born of all those things, why are you not more evil? Why aren’t you cruel and vicious?”

Her words left me speechless. She was the first to believe I wasn’t those things. That was exactly what I was, what I had always been and would always be. Except with her, I wasn’t that way for some reason.

“I am,” I said flatly. “Don’t ever doubt I’m not. I will do what must be done in order to survive and put an end to all of this. I’ve twisted and tortured souls in ways you could never imagine possible, and I thrive on it. There is a reason I was forged in those fires.”

She swallowed before nervously licking her lips. My gaze fastened on her mouth; I resisted leaning down to follow her tongue with my own. To taste her. I had a feeling she would taste better than she smelled, and feel even better beneath my hands.

“How are you created from the fires? How is that possible?” she asked.

I shrugged as I dragged my gaze away from her enticingly wet lips. “It is simply the way it has always been.”

“The demons who are born, are they born babies who grow?”

“They are and they have the same developmental time frame as humans do.”

“Do they stop aging at a certain point and become immortal?”

“It is different for all, but most stop aging between their mid-twenties and mid-thirties when they reach their strongest potential.”

“What other kinds of demons are there?” she asked.

“So many,” I replied. “There are fire demons, visionary demons, lanavours, adhenes, canaghs, chimera, and many more. Plus, there are demons who are mixes.”

“What about the demons who are always with you, what are they?”

“Most of them are a mix. Corson is the only purebred amongst them, and he’s an adhene. They’re mischievous and what you would know as elf-like demons.”

A small smiled curled her mouth. “That makes sense for him.”

I didn’t tell her Corson may be the most easygoing and fun-loving one of us, but when he unleashed his abilities, he became one of the most savage and brutal bastards I’d ever encountered. It was why he’d risen to his position by my side.

She licked her lips again. “May I have a drink?” she inquired.

Rising to my feet, I lifted the pitcher from the table beside the bed and poured her a glass of water. I helped her to rise and made sure she was comfortable before handing her the glass. She tried to take it, but the needle in the back of one hand and the broken rib on her other side made it difficult for her to move.

“I got it,” I told her and held the glass against her lips.

She drank some of the water before pulling away. “Thank you.”

I returned the glass to the table and sat again.

“Why do most of you look almost human?” she asked.

“All the beings on the three planes have some of the same features, as you can tell.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

“Millions of years ago, when the planet itself was created, the three planes were also forged. In the beginning, the planes were more together, fighting against one another to try to thrive, but as time moved on and the colossal force of energy that created the planet expanded, the dimensions were more clearly divided.

“Hell broke off first, leaving the planet cooler and more inhabitable. The increasing amount of water on the earth made it easier for life of all kinds to flourish. The kinds of life meant to flourish in extreme heat and with less water went with Hell. That life thrived in the underworld and evolved into demons and other creatures who resided within Hell’s bowels. As humans evolved, so did demons,” I told her.

“And what of Heaven?” she asked.

“The energy that had originally created the three planes broke Heaven away after Hell. It is believed by demons that Heaven was separated to remove the toxic gases remaining on the planet after creation and leave the air more breathable on your plane. Over time, the air within Heaven has filtered itself out.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because the fallen angels have been able to survive on Earth and Hell; they wouldn’t have done so if their air was drastically different than ours.”

“I see. So what about God? How does he or she or it fit into all of this?” she asked.

“The energy that created the planet was powerful enough to also create the force you know as God. However, it has been called many various names over the years and many different Gods and Goddesses. When Heaven went last, that force broke away with it and forged the angels from the image of what man was becoming.

“Over time, the planes became a symbiotic network of different species. Some of us are more different from others, but for the most part, demons and angels are all men and women. The angels all look very similar to each other too, though the fallen ones changed upon plummeting to Earth and entering Hell. They became more demonic in appearance than their cloud-hopping counterparts.”

She started to laugh then winced when the movement jarred her ribs. Taking hold of her hand, I squeezed it within mine. I’d tried not to harm her during our sparring sessions, but I had done this to her, and I would have given anything to take her pain away from her. I wouldn’t be able to take it easy on her when she was healed either. In battle, no demon would take it easy on her, and she must learn how to kill in order to survive.

“How do you know the fallen angels changed?” she asked.

“Legends passed down through the generations.”

“What do the angels who are still in Heaven look like?”

“Like humans, they’re all different colors and races. They have their feathery wings and glowing auras. Disappointingly, there is no halo.”

“That is disappointing,” she agreed. “What else do you know about them?”

“Like us, they’re exceptionally powerful, but some of their abilities are different than ours.” I held up my hand to fend off her next barrage of questions. “No, I can’t tell you what they can do.”

I also wasn’t going to tell her that
all
non-fallen angels had one distinctive feature in common.

Her face fell, and her mouth twisted to the side as she stared thoughtfully at me. “Can you tell me everything you’re capable of?”

“Maybe one day, but not today.”

She started to sigh but broke off on a hiss. She waved me away when I rose and reached for her. “I’m fine.”

My hands fisted impotently as I sat in the chair again.

“Do Heaven and Hell fight each other?” she asked.

“No. We have no contact with each other, and until they tossed out their garbage, we had no problem with the flying saints. Now, I’d happily pluck the feathers from their wings before cutting their heads off. They may not have known what would happen when they threw those angels from Heaven, but we’re the ones who have had to deal with the consequences of their actions.”

“That sucks,” she mumbled.

I hated the pallor of her skin and the shadows beneath her striking eyes.
Mortal
. The reminder caused my claws to lengthen slightly as they dug into the palms of my hands. I felt the almost overwhelming need to make her immortal…

Then what? Stay with her? That was not my way. That was not the demon way unless it was with their Chosen, and she could not be mine. There had only been two varcolacs in history who had found their Chosen. They had been some of the first leaders, before Lucifer entered Hell, and it had taken both of them tens of thousands of years to discover their Chosen. I did not expect to find mine.

“How old are you?” she inquired.

“Far older than you. I am fifteen hundred and sixty-two years.”

Her eyes widened as she gawked at me. “Holy shit that’s old!”

I couldn’t help but smile as I ran my finger over her brow again. “I suppose, to a human, it is.”

“To anyone it is.” I wondered if her eyes might actually pop out of her head as she watched me. A smile tugged at my lips as her eyes ran over me again. “Amazing.”

“And how old are you?” I inquired.

“I turned twenty-two on March eleventh.”

So young, and yet there was such an aura of wisdom and age about her, of knowing things one her age should never know, at least not on this plane. I’d been far younger than her, barely free of the fires, when I’d waged my first battle and killed my first of Lucifer’s followers.

“For someone so old, you’ve really adapted to our world,” she said.

“We’ve made ourselves fit into your world so you humans won’t fear us as much, and so our species can aide each other. These clothes aren’t our way of dressing; your culture isn’t our culture. Your languages are not our languages.”

She tilted her head to the side. “But you speak English so well.”

“We spoke all languages at least a little before coming here. Over thousands of years of watching, human languages were picked up and spread amongst our kind. We weren’t proficient in them before, but we’ve learned a lot more since arriving here.”

“I never would have imagined demons to be so… ah… cultured,” she finished.

“There is much you wouldn’t expect of us.” I couldn’t stop my finger from tracing over her scar. “How did you get this?”

“Stupidity,” she replied with a smile. “I accidentally hooked myself on one of my first fishing trips. Thankfully, a neighbor helped me to get it out and made sure I caught fish instead of myself the next time.”

“And you fished often?”

“Almost every day. It was how I fed my family.” Sadness filled her eyes as they fell away from mine and onto the book beside her bed. “You read?”

“I’ve taught myself over the years.”

“What are you reading?”

“
Of Mice and Men
. Have you read it?”

“No. I enjoy reading, but I had little time for it at home. I taught Gage when he was old enough to learn. I hope he teaches Bailey one day…”

Her voice trailed off, and tears shimmered in her eyes as she remained focused on the book. More than her pain, I hated her sorrow. Her physical pain would fade soon enough; this heartache never would.

“Are they your brothers?” I asked.

“They are. Gage is fourteen and Bailey is only two and a half. I miss them so much.”

I didn’t know how I would do it, but somehow I would find a way for her to see them again.