A Charmed Future

But It's Worse When They Do

"Are you sure they did not see you?" Jonathan inquired, pacing back and forth through the massive underground chamber.

Hellequin nodded, eyeing the irate Source. "I shimmered out of there the moment I was knocked out of her body. That blond witch is very powerful considering his age."

"He's stubborn," Jonathan stopped his agitated movement, and his billowing black robes floated down around him, giving the vampire a ghost-like appearance. Jonathan paused, reassessing everything around him. After a couple of silent minutes, the tanned vampire continued. "The battle in the heavens was not a total success, but at least the Elders are on the run."

"What of Brendan?" Hellequin immediately inquired, daring to look into the black voids which constituted the vampire's eyes.

"Brendan is dead," Jonathan snapped, flames erupting in his eyes. In a harsh, cruel tone, he lambasted the deceased darklighter. "His old self won out. He was a fool: thought he could overpower his precious Gabriel. Idiot! His compassion was his downfall."

"His expertise will be sorely missed." Hellequin bowed his head in reverence, but his tone hinted at disdain and hatred.

Jonathan's eyes flashed as he rounded on the masked demon. "But his loyalty will not!" He spat. "A fallen angel is worse than a demon. I will not make that mistake again."

"Whatever you say, Jonathan," Hellequin whispered, barely able to hide his emotions. The demonic telepath turned around and headed toward the exit, saddened by the loss of a friend and infuriated by the Source's apparent lack of empathy.

Jonathan sighed and spoke exhaustedly, "I do not dismiss his importance in my quick ascendancy to the throne. I will forever his assistance in that regard."

Suddenly, Jonathan's soulless eyes turned helpless and pleading brown, the same warm brown as his half-brother's gaze. Jonathan rubbed his forehead, blocking his face from Hellequin. The vampire regained his composure and looked back up at Hellequin, the utter impassive blackness of the Source's eyes back in place. The leader of evil cleared his throat and continued, "But he was a liability. His ties to the Powers That Be were strong – too strong. His sacrifice for his beliefs—his world order—aids us rather than cripples us."

"There is a reason you became the Source, Jonathan, and not I." Hellequin hissed in an undertone. "Sacrifice was never my forte."

"You would throw me to the wolves if you thought the wolves could kill me," Jonathan snapped, challenging the masked demon.

Hellequin did not back down but stood his ground. In an icy tone, he hissed, "You extend your loyalty to me and any of your other 'allies' as long as you need us. I am simply more cautious when I decide to alienate myself."

Jonathan's eyes turned blazing gold, and Hellequin's hand shot up to his neck, startled. Two minor puncture wounds started to spurt out tar-like blood. "Cheek is one thing I will not tolerate, Hellequin. Watch your tone when you speak to me; I'm the fucking Source of All Evil."

Hellequin, wild-eyed, tore his hand away from the wounds on his neck and bowed low. "Forgive me, milord. I was confused." The black tar blood continued to dribble out of the puncture holes, dripping to the floor and fizzing. Hellequin kept his head bent over, gasping for breath, fearful of making a move and angering Jonathan more. Now was not the time for revenge, not when the golden-eyed vampire expected it. His breath stopped when he saw Jonathan's boots step on the growing puddle of acidic blood. A cold hand touched his shoulder and guided the swan-marked demon to stand up straight. Hellequin took a deep breath and looked into the emotionless voids of the Source.

Jonathan removed his hand from Hellequin's shoulder and placed it harshly over the gaping and swollen teeth marks. The smell of burned skin filled the room, and Hellequin ground his teeth to stop himself from screaming. After a few moments, Jonathan removed his hand; two penny-sized white scars replaced the infected wounds. Jonathan licked his fingers clean, his now golden eyes rolling back in short-lived ecstasy. The lord of the Underworld composed himself with a deep breath. His cold black eyes focused on and stared into the very essence of the humbled and humiliated demon. "Hellequin, my friend, we have divergent views on subjects that matter most. Forgive me if I become hostile, but the time nears for the final battle, and my nerves frayed."