Page 77 of Endless Terrors
Was this where Collith had been tortured?
Lucifer answered as we walked deeper into the earth. “They’re all here for different reasons. Most have information I require. Many are broken souls that are too dangerous to be free. A select few tried to kill me. And some of them put themselves in.”
Put themselves in? I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
Lucifer kept his eyes on the path ahead of us, acting as if he didn’t hear the moans and sobs floating from those cells. “Most of the souls who arrive at my domain choose to do so,” he said. “Just as you thought of Hell during the spell that brought you to me, the newly dead think of it as they leave their bodies behind. It’s why Collith Sylvyre came here. This is where, in his heart of hearts, he thinks he belongs.”
The revelation almost made me falter.
Oh my God, I thought. If Lucifer was telling the truth, Collith hadn’t come here because he was Fallen. He hadn’t been tormented because it was what he deserved. Instead, it was his innate goodness—his maddening nobility, part of the reason I’d fallen in love with him—that had sent Collith to Hell.
Later, I told myself. I would think about that later.
Because right now, there was a body hanging in front of me.
We’d entered one of the cells. As I moved deeper into the room, my stomach flipping at the sight of that mutilated figure, I glanced around quickly. The ceiling was higher than I’d thought it would be, but everything else was pretty standard for an ancient dungeon. Stone walls, cold floor, dim light.
The body mounted on the far wall looked like raw meat. It must’ve been a demon of some sort, because I saw one of its blood-streaked ears, and the tip was pointed. It hung there by chains, and judging from the smoke coming off the creature’s wrists and ankles, those chains had been recently doused in holy water.
I wasn’t exactly torn up about a demon getting its just desserts, but I didn’t want a front-row seat, either. I faced Lucifer, frowning. “Why would you show me this?”
“Because this is the one who made a deal with you, Lady Sworn,” he answered, and a shock went through me.
There was a dull roar in my ears as I turned back to the demon, expecting to recognize it, somehow. But it had been wearing Ian O’Connell’s face at the crossroads. Now it was a creature with claws for fingers and a misshapen head, its pained grimace revealing rows of small, sharp teeth. I didn’t look away, though. I kept looking for the creature that had almost destroyed me.
Lucifer’s voice lowered, and there was something frightening about how calm it was. As if he was keeping his emotions under tight, careful control. “I had no hand in what happened to you, and if I’d known, I would’ve stopped it,” he said. “I’m not omniscient, and demons are a chaotic species by nature. They’re extremely difficult to control.”
It was a relief to turn away from the demon. I gave Lucifer a faint, bitter smile. “Sounds like excuses to me. I knew a king who talked that way once.”
“What happened to him?” he asked.
I pictured Collith. I remembered the look on his face as I threw our sapphire down, and a shadow passed over my heart. “He lost everything. His cowardice caught up with him.”
“He lost everything … or you took it?” Lucifer asked. I didn’t answer, and he regarded me thoughtfully. “There is no shame in taking what you want, Lady Sworn.”
His remark made me think of Gwyn, and the comparison cleared my mind. People like them only cared about power. Lucifer didn’t care about my pain, or my revenge, or whatever secret guilt I had about the urges inside me. He was just playing the game.
“I held up my end of the bargain. I’m leaving now,” I said, turning toward the door. Lucifer’s next question stopped me.
“Shall I do it, then?”
I frowned, and gave a slight shake of my head. “Do what?”
Instead of answering, Lucifer stepped close to the demon. He pulled a knife out of its stomach. I hadn’t even noticed the hilt, since it had been buried in guts and all. Lucifer returned to my side, holding the knife loosely. He kept his gaze on the demon as he said, “End this pathetic creature’s life.”
Was that why he’d brought me here? I didn’t bother pretending to be offended at his assumption that I was the sort of person who went around killing. Because I was. Logan had proven that. Instead, I fell silent. I stared at the demon and wondered what it would feel like, killing it. Satisfying? Cathartic? Maybe even freeing.
Every child had a monster in their closet. Not every child opened the door and slaughtered it.
That’s what I imagined it would feel like.
But something held me back. I kept staring at the demon, and there was an uneasy sensation in my stomach. Stillness filled the cell. I wavered, going back and forth between the urge to run and the longing to stay. A longing that grew stronger with every second.
Then I heard another voice in my head. This time, it wasn’t Laurie or Oliver—it was Collith. Beautiful, infuriating Collith with his flaws and his ideals.
Choose mercy, Fortuna.
Taking a life, no matter how dark, decrepit, and poisonous it was, was still taking a life. It left a mark. I’d learned that the hard way. I could close my eyes and see the face of everyone I’d ever killed, even the deaths I had enjoyed.
