“Of course,” Constantine says, having regained his usual, cool composure before Devon has even dragged himself up off the ground.
With a final nod and a spell that sweeps up Tiamat’s ashes into a brown leather pouch that is shimmering with dark magick, Dracul takes his leave.
“Motherfucker,” Devon says and Remiel, Constantine, Vito, and Xane all nod back, their faces pale.
“Did that just happen?” Devon asks a long time later, after the wind has died down and taken with it the haunting spirits. They are all still staring at the spot where Tiamat was slain, and it still hasn’t sunk in yet. Night has faded and dawn has broken in the weird way that happens in the Underworld.
“It did,” Remiel says with a big smile. “And not a moment too soon. Vito!” He snaps his fingers and Vito looks up at him. “Go back to Aefre and this time do not leave the Fae Kingdoms without her.”
“I can’t,” Vito stammers, looking somewhere between horrified and terrified. Devon reckons his own countenance has a similar expression etched into it. That was some bad-fucking-ass Dragon slayage.
Vito points to the Ring and the purple haze is still hovering protectively over it. “Her magick didn’t dissipate with Her death.”
“Are we sure She actually is dead?” Constantine asks, skeptical as ever. “I mean, if that is all it took….”
Remiel scoffs at him. “All it took,” he repeats. “I’d have liked to see you try and accomplish that.”
“Back at you,” Constantine snarls. “But the question remains.”
“Yes, She is definitely dead,” Remiel confirms. “No doubt about it. The Underworld felt the loss, it mourned.”
“And yet Her magick remains?” Xane asks. “How is that possible?”
“It’s inconvenient for our current purposes but it makes sense. If the magick didn’t hold, we would all be dust by now,” Remiel says. “We are all magickal creatures created by Her, I say don’t look a Trojan horse in the mouth.”
“Gift horse,” Devon mumbles.
“Jesus,” Constantine snaps. “How in the Hell are we supposed to get to Aefre now?”
Remiel perks his ears up and gives them a triumphant smile. “Be right back,” he says and once again vanishes from sight as the rest of them grit their teeth and wait to be apprised of what he is planning now.
“Bourbon, anyone?” Devon asks and turns back towards the house.
“Make mine the whole bottle,” Xane says. “My day is going to get a lot worse now.”
Devon gives him a questioning look at his ominous comment, but he gets nothing in return. So, he shrugs it off and hauls his weary body back across the lawns, with three equally weary men behind him.
Chapter 9
The Underworld, October 2014 - Other Liv (Liv)
She lands in a library that looks very similar to her own and to the one that burnt down on this side. “Underworld?” she asks Remiel, who gives her a little shove forward.
“You,” Devon hisses at her and crosses his arms defensively in front of him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Good question,” Constantine says, giving her the stink eye, but as he takes in her entire new look, she sees something flicker in his eyes. It gives her the confidence she needs to sneer at all of them to regain her control. She isn’t all that happy to be here, but she will go along with whatever plan they have cooking up on the assumption that Aefre will think twice about kicking her ass.
“She is here to help,” Remiel says. “As you can now see, she has been claimed by her father.”
Liv crosses her arms in front of her, giving them all a good view of her newly etched Fae markings. She takes in their faces one by one and lands on the unfamiliar one.
“You’re new,” she drawls and walks towards him. She reaches out and runs her hand down his broad chest, looking up at him towering over her in her bare feet, at six-five easy. He growls at her and clamps his large hand around her wrist, removing her hand from him.
“You aren’t Aefre,” he rumbles.
“Nope, well I am, but not your one, thank the gods,” she says.
“What do you think you are doing?” Devon asks her but she ignores him for now.