“Yes, it does seem that I fit in with your ‘type.’” He uses air quotes with his wry tone, which makes me laugh despite myself. I look closer at him and he looks somewhat familiar. I narrow my eyes at him. “You are of the House of Dracul, aren’t you?” I ask.
He looks startled and doesn’t answer me for a few minutes. He clears his throat and says, “Yes. What of it?”
“Thought so, you look like you belong to them.”
“Just as smart as a whip. I like that about you.”
“What’s your name?” I ask curiously.
“Oh no, you don’t get that,” he laughs.
“Why not? I already know your House,” I point out.
He ponders that for a long while. Long enough that I start to wonder what the Hell I am doing chatting to this creature who has put me through the ringer.
“Remiel,” he says eventually.
I take a step back in surprise. “Remiel? As in…” I flap my hands like wings, “…the Archangel?”
“Hardly, my dear,” he scoffs. “Although, I do have a special station. The seventh son of the seventh son,” he adds.
“Holy crap,” I exclaim, taking that in. “You are Dracul’s grandson? You are my grandnephew?” I ask in horror and disbelief.
“As it were,” he says with a shudder, as he clearly finds that as distasteful as I do.
“Then why? Why did Tiamat kill you? Her great grandchild,” I ask without thinking and his face goes cold and menacing and I take another step back as he steps forward.
“She turned on me. She was threatened by me. I was more powerful than even Dracul. She gave me enough power to take over The Underworld, but She didn’t want that, it was being saved…for you,” he snarls at me, and it looks like playtime is over. What does he mean that She gave him power? There seems to be more to this story than we first thought. A lot more.
“So, you decided to wait for me to become Queen and try to do me in?” I ask, showing no fear to his amusement.
“Precisely. Tit for tat. I don’t get to rule, neither will you.”
“Not only is that highly juvenile, but why did you wait? Why not just take me out at the start?” I ask him but have no idea why these words are coming out of my mouth.
“Nobody knew who you were until you ascended, or I would have,” he says sullenly.
“But I didn’t do anything to you. That’s hardly fair.”
“Fair? You want to talk about fair? I was hacked into thirteen pieces by Her and that blasted sword so that I couldn’t rule. Do you think that is fair?”
“No, of course I don’t,” I say truthfully, and it stops him dead in his tracks, having clearly expected a different answer. I clearly don’t know the half of this story, but no one deserves a death the likes of which he seems to have endured. “But what do you gain from destroying me?” I add.
“Revenge!” he screams at me. “And for Her to feel the pain of defeat. She will never have another daughter. You are Her last chance at passing down Her rule of the Dragon Realms. You cease to exist and Her whole regime collapses, taking Her with it.”
“Wow, bitter much?” I say and he glares at me with those beautiful blue eyes that I look into every time I look at Xane. “If you are as powerful as I think you are, why can’t you just bring yourself back to life?”
I startle him with the random question, ignoring his dramatic speech on my demise. “Death doesn’t work that way. Believe me, I have tried. I want the life that was taken away from me. Even to just be a regular Demon again with no amplified powers. That’s why I manipulate dreams. Because that is all I have,” he says sadly.
He looks so forlorn; I almost buy it for a second but then I remember everything he has done to me. “If I had said I wanted to stay in the dreams, what would have happened?”
“You would have been mine for a time. We would have lived out our lives in the dream and your body would have withered away as the energy in you dissipated.”
“Don’t you get how icky that is?” I say, trying for a show of indifference. “We are related.”
“Oh, hardly, my dear,” he scoffs. “You may claim Tiamat as your mother, but we are not related by any means that count. Same as you and Xane,” he adds idly, and I blanch.
“So, what you really want is not to kill me, but to be with me?” I ask, not out of arrogance, but trying to understand his warped motivations.