Hero’s head felt fuzzy, his mouth tasting of copper, his body sore. His eyes opened slowly, blinking several times as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a bed that wasn’t his, in a room he’d never been in. The sheets were soft and delectable against his bare skin, the pillow like a cloud under his head. He breathed in deeply, taking in the spicy aroma he loved so much. He felt something heavy draped over his side and a sturdy form just behind him. He turned onto his back, Hawk’s arm not moving from where it rested.
Hawk looked so incredibly peaceful as he slept, his breath slow and even, his other arm under his head. His dark red hair was an absolute mess, hanging in his eyes and covering his ears. Hero smiled, tucking a few strands behind one ear, resting his hand against Hawk’s warm face.
He had never noticed before how much warmer Hawk actually was compared to others. It made sense now, however. Hawk wasn’t even human.
His soul is, though.
Growing up, he had been taught that demons were evil, angels were good, and humans were their main source of entertainment. Since he didn’t know any angels, he couldn’t really say if they were good or not, and Hawk was the only demon he knew. Hawk was his demon, his Blood King.
He turned his gaze to the ceiling, to the mural painted above him. His eyes roamed over each image, every face unique and detailed. He had to wonder what exactly this scene depicted. His father had been a theology professor at the college Hero had attended, and had shown him several texts detailing stories of battles and wars that raged between Heaven and Hell. It seemed they were constantly at each other's throats for one reason or another, Hero had pointed out one time.
His dad had laughed. “The Divine are an arrogant bunch, thinking they have the rights over whatever they want, usually human souls. If humans can fight wars for just about any reason, or even nothing at all, the same can probably be said for them as well.”
In no story he had ever read, however, had there been a mention of a Blood King. He was sure he would have remembered that.
He stared at the characters depicted above the destructive demon’s head…Rise of the Blood King, Hawk had said it read. What sort of war had Hawk been involved in that he would have been hailed as such a powerful figure? Was he respected, or just feared? With a moniker like that, had he really been a king?
“It was a stupid nickname,” Hawk said, his hand moving across Hero’s stomach over the thick comforter as he rolled over onto his back, his arm coming to a rest over his forehead, staring up at the mural. “I told them to stop calling me that or the actual Devil Kings would start getting the wrong idea, especially my own.”
Hero glanced over at him. “‘Hawk’ isn’t your real name, is it?”
Hawk shook his head.
“What is your real name?”
“I don’t have one. Most high ranking demons are given names and titles based on their actions or deeds. ‘Blood King’ was the name I received and I hated it. Unfortunately for me,” he said, turning to smile at Hero, “like any good subordinates, they didn’t listen to their commanding officer and the name stuck.”
“What happened?”
Hawk breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly. “It was a battle to see who would rule Hell. Contrary to popular belief, Lucifer isn’t the only one in charge down there.”
“Really?”
Hawk nodded. “There are five. There used to be seven but…” he shrugged. “A few of them got it in their heads they would make a better ruler than Lucifer, who actually is the top dog. The High Devil King, I guess you’d call him. I didn’t serve him, though. I was under the rule of another King in a deeper part of the Realm.” He held his hands above them, forming a box with them that he moved three times. “So, you have three planes of existence, not including this one. There’s Heaven, Hell, and the Veil is right in between all of it. It’s sort of a neutral zone. Or…at least it’s supposed to be.”
“That’s where we go,” Hero said.
“A small part of it, yes,” Hawk said. “The Veil is infinite, just like Heaven and Hell are. It’s where souls are made, where they go when you die, after they’ve been judged or cleansed, of course, and where demons and angels can walk freely without fear of attack. You’d be surprised at the number of backdoor deals and information swapping that has occurred there. Where we go is the spot where our souls were originally created. It’s more or less our starting point, our home.”
He lowered one arm, the other sweeping from one side to the next as he scanned the mural. “This happened in the Veil, a great big no-no. Not that we cared much at the time.” He lowered his arm over his stomach. “The battle went on for a century or more. It was bloody, violent, with no prisoners taken. It had become the largest dick waving contest in the entirety of the cosmos, and I was a big part of it. I destroyed armies single-handedly, from both sides.”
“Why did the angels get involved if it was an issue for Hell to deal with?”
“Self interest, mostly. They figured if they backed the right King, they could have more say in what happened down there. Some fought just to get us out of the Veil. All they were to us was food.”
Hero grimaced.
“War ain’t pretty, babe. And a demon as powerful as I was needed a lot of nourishment.”
Hero sat up on his elbows, staring down at Hawk who kept his amber eyes on the mural. “So, you’re saying you—”
“Eat people, yes.”
Hero didn’t care for the details; the general idea was swimming in the Veil.
“But not as much as I used to,” Hawk said softly. “In fact it’s damn rare when I get to have one, and even then, it’s usually someone no one will miss. A death row inmate, a pedophile, a certain music theory professor…”
Hero’s head snapped around, his eyes wide. “You didn’t—”
Hawk grinned, his fang exposed. “No, but I might if I ever saw him.”
Hero frowned. “Hawk.”
“I’m kidding.”
Hero laid back down.
“Maybe.”
He slapped a hand over his eyes and shook his head. “Just finish the story,” he sighed.
Hawk chuckled. “I gained a pretty intense reputation during the whole thing, including that lovely moniker, the Blood King. It was given to me by one of my lieutenants or something. Could have been from Charlotte, I really couldn’t say.”
“Wait, Charlotte—”
“Is a demon, and a very dangerous one.” He shot Hero a look. “When I told you I know what she’s capable of, it’s because I’m the one that trained her. She served under me for centuries. Her and Toji.”
“Toji’s a demon, too?” Hero exclaimed.
Hawk nodded. “A shifter, actually. A type of imp that is usually more annoying than helpful. Toji’s an exception. He’s been like a butler, advisor, babysitter—”
“I heard that!” Toji’s voice came from beyond the door as he walked past. Hero stared at the door then back at Hawk who smiled.
“Don’t worry, he’s harmless. A complete pain in the ass and a total bastard, but harmless. I trust him more than anyone else I’ve ever worked with.”
“I’m gonna shit in your shoe, you son of a bitch!”
“Would he really do that?”
Hawk laughed. “No, he wouldn’t. All I need to do is run the Keurig and he’ll be fine.”
Hero groaned and covered his eyes.
“I became more of a legend as I grew more powerful. No one crossed me, no one disobeyed me, no one challenged me. Even the other Devil Kings and archangels decided they valued their lives more than trying to take me down. God even tried…and lost.”
“Say what?”
Hawk’s expression became serious, his eyes blank. “God challenged me, the most arrogant bastard of all. Tried taking me by surprise like a coward, too. I was leaving a meeting held by the Devil Kings when he attacked me. I managed to get my King out of harm’s way and got God alone several miles off. We fought for I couldn’t even tell you how long. Time is something the Divine don’t think about. Why would we need to? We’re practically immortal.” He tensed, his fist clenched at his side. “Anyway, I almost killed him. He conceded defeat and I let him go.”
“Why didn’t you kill him?”
“There was nothing I could have gained from it that I wanted. The one who kills God, rules Heaven. I didn’t care enough about it to finish him off. It was more of a point that he wasn’t as powerful as he thought he was.” He closed his eyes. “Lucifer got involved after that.”
“He hadn’t been?”
“Not really. He’s a pompous ass who wouldn’t dare get his hands dirty. He sent his generals to do his dirty work for him and once it got to a certain point, he decided he’d had enough and intervened. A lot of demons died, angels, too. Some were enslaved, some were sent back to Hell, and others, like myself, were exiled. However, my exile was different.” He clenched his jaw. “It’s permanent.”
Hero sat back up.
“All the other demons and angels who were exiled could repent and redeem themselves, giving them a chance to go back home. Not me. For all my crimes, I was sentenced to an eternal exile with no escape clause.”
“Escape clause?”
Hawk swallowed. “I can’t die.” He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “When he said ‘forever,’ he fucking meant it. If I died, I’d go back to Hell and they don’t want me there. Of course there’s complete obliteration but even that’s been denied me.”
“I don’t think I want to know what that entails.”
“Exactly as it sounds, Hero. I’d be obliterated, my existence destroyed. My soul would fade away and it would be like I never was. Anyone that ever knew me would forget me, instantly. You wouldn’t even get a second to grieve my loss because you wouldn’t know what you were grieving for.”
Hawk opened his eyes again, turning toward Hero. “When I was exiled, I laughed in Lucifer’s face. I was such an egomaniac, so arrogant, I didn’t think it was a big deal. In fact I told him it would be the most fun I’d have in my entire existence. For a while, it was. That is, until people I came to know started dying. I watched empires rise and fall, cities crumble to dust, natural disasters destroy people and places I enjoyed visiting. No matter where I was or what I did, death and destruction followed me.
“The whole exile thing lost its appeal for me about three hundred years or so into it.”
“How long has it been?”
“Over a thousand years.”
Hero sat bolt upright, staring down at him.
“I started losing control of myself somewhere down the line, I don’t remember how. I’d transform and go berserk. I got caught once rampaging through some town somewhere in the middle east and was held in chains and tortured for a full decade before they let me go. When word gets around the Divine that you can’t die, a lot of bad people want to take a crack at trying to make you crack. I might not be able to die, but I can lose my mind completely. I thought I was going to last night. I risked it because you deserved to know.
“The last time I lost control was about a decade or so ago. I completely destroyed an entire city on the west coast, killing a lot of people. I don’t know how many, it really doesn’t matter. What matters is that’s how Sumi got involved.
“Sumi is a demon contractor, sort of like a parole officer in a way. He makes these contracts with exiles and holds them to certain conditions that, if broken, end very badly for those under contract. Because of what I did, failure to comply with my contract means a century in chains, forced to watch other demons consume blood in front of me while I rave like a lunatic with uncontrolled hunger. Torture is an aphrodisiac for Sumi. I know because he showed me once, just to drive in what awaits me if I fuck up.
“Along with the contract, I also got two handlers. Thankfully they were both ones I knew. Unfortunately, one of them I can’t fucking stand.”
“Charlotte?”
“Charlotte. At some point during the battle, she turned on me, blaming me for all the death and chaos that had taken hold in Hell. I don’t know if I had killed someone she loved or something, but she’s hated me ever since. The reason I hate her so damn much is because she’s the one who set the conditions of my exile.”
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