Thirty-Five

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Asmodeus spectered us back to Blackdown Keep.

As soon as our feet touched the ebony floor, guards were on us at all times. They followed us through the halls of the Keep no more than a couple of paces behind. For what purpose, I was unsure since it was supposed to be the safest location in the Underworld.

The opulence and greatness of the palace didn't move me like it had the first time I visited. It still was the most beautiful place I'd ever seen but my thoughts were elsewhere. Every time I closed my eyes I'd see Mel looking at me with the unspoken horror she was feeling right before ...

I couldn't even let myself finish the thought.

Asmodeus escorted me through the halls of the Keep. He kept a tight hold on my arms throughout. I didn't even fight him on it and was actually grateful that someone was holding me upright. I was afraid of what would happen when he did let me go. Exhaustion was starting to grab a hold of me too. I could feel it start to weigh heavily on me.

He led me to a small sitting room, close to where my room was he told me. He set me down on a large armchair in front of an already roaring fire and left. The corner of the room had a table with a television muted on a channel I didn't recognize.

I tried to distract myself by watching the fire. I didn't want to think about what happened - I couldn't face it, didn't want to.

Asmodeus set himself down on the chair opposite mine. He waved his hand and a tea-set appeared with two delicate teacups.

I recognized the chamomile as it wafted through the air around us. I watched his hands as he poured the large teapot into one of the small teacups. He slid the saucer and cup close for me to reach and watched me.

When I didn't move, he sighed. "It's not poisoned if that's what you're wondering."

I looked away to the fire. "I don't trust you."

He looked up past me to something or someone behind my chair. I briefly wondered how close the guards really were now that we were in the room. He leaned forward, whispering, "I'm not going to hurt you."

I shook my head. "I'd rather not."

His voice was impossibly low. "Was she your first kill?"

I tried to swallow my grief but felt the tears fall anyway. I only nodded unable to form words.

"It was self-defense," he whispered. "She would have killed you."

I shook my head fighting the exhaustion that was threatening to take over. "She just lunged for me with that knife - I had her life in my hand and just squeezed and -"

He was shaking his head. "You protected yourself." He nodded at the cup in front of me. "Drink the tea, it will help with your shaking."

I shook my head again and, frustrated, he poured himself a cup and began to drink from it. He raised his eyebrows. "Happy?"

I shook my head.

"Gods," he growled. "I need you. Alive. Why would I hurt you?"

I scoffed. "Because you're evil." I looked at his black eyes, unflinching. They were exactly as the first time I'd seen them. Empty, cold. Like I was staring into an abyss. "And you're not above being cruel to get your way. Those things you said about Damien were just despicable."

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