Dark Prince Ch. 04

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Closer to insanity...
8.8k words
4.82
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17

Part 4 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/22/2012
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The spatters of black were barely distinguishable on the gloss of the floor. Devon snorted in self-disgust before his nose and eyes burned with tears. Cutting himself hadn't worked. He'd slit his throat, choked on his own blood for a few agonizing moments and then his body began to self-heal.

Trying to summon his divine sword hadn't worked either. It resisted his call.

He took a deep breath and then sighed in misery, blinking back the tears that blurred his vision. The streaks of black blood on the blade mesmerized him. His blood was black not red.

The shimmer of power skimmed over him, but kept his mind closed off. His entire being recoiled at having to talk to anyone, and he let them know he was in a black mood. Unfortunately, they didn't get the hint and invaded the tenth level where he'd cloistered himself.

The Seraphian Master Guardians had lived for over four millennia on this level, guarding Earth's solar system. It had been his refuge after they left when he and Lucien turned eighteen.

Three pairs of boots stopped in front of him, and then Zak, Seth, and Lucien settled themselves on the shiny floor of Aria's old quarters.

They remained silent for a moment.

"Um," Lucien began, "what are you doing, bro?"

Devon shrugged. "A little experiment." He held up the blade, still looking at it. "My blood is black."

Again, silence.

"The Seraphs. They raised him," Seth argued. "They'll probably be able to tell us what Devon is. Right, Luke?"

"I'm a demon, Sethaliel," Devon answered in a desolate tone, looking at the reflection of his glowing blue eyes in the blood-spattered knife. "If anything, I should go see the reapers. They can help me with my little problem."

Silence.

Devon raised his gaze. Beyond the thick pane of glass lining the entire front of Aria's quarters was a scene from hell, instead of the vast expanse of space. Devil's taunted him, licking the glass and laughing at him. Their nails screeched against the glass, setting his teeth on edge... and he was the only one who could see it.

Fuck my existence.

Devon closed his eyes, hugging his knees to his chest as he leaned his forehead against them. "Yes. I think the Reapers can help me better," he whispered.

"There has to be another solution," Zak huffed.

Their concern touched him, but... "I don't want to turn into a monster. I don't want to hurt the people I love."

"But we need you," Seth insisted. "We're no longer welcome here. Once the Edenian council realizes we're back, they're going to open fire on Alpha 7."

"Move the station," Devon murmured, burrowing deeper against his knees.

Their silence made him look up. Zak and Seth gaped at him.

"Alpha 7's the size of a small moon," Seth scoffed. "How the hell are we supposed to move it?"

"There's enough power between all of you," Devon assured.

"Right," Zak laughed humorlessly, "and the Edenian council is going to let us take Alpha 7 just like that."

"We'll cloak it in invisibility." Lucien spoke now.

Devon looked at him. Lucien's aura flared brighter. Was it because of Angel? Was Lucien falling in love with her? Would he be good for her, or make her suffer the way the Seraph Garethael had made Annie suffer?

The thought of Angel in Lucien's arms made him want to howl in grief, even though he knew in his heart Lucien was better for her than a god-forsaken demon like himself.

He closed his eyes and let his power out until he felt Angel's presence. She shivered, recognizing him.

***

"Devon," Angel moaned, shuddering. Just as quickly, the feel of his power disappeared. "No." She closed her eyes, frantically reaching out with her mind to feel him again. Come back to me. Where are you?

A whimper escaped her lips as her eyes searched the room. Was he going to appear to her?

The seconds ticked by. No Devon.

"Damn-it," she hissed.

Closing her eyes again and reached out with her mind. She didn't know exactly what she was doing, but she concentrated on feeling for Devon's power.

If he didn't come to her, she'd go to him.

She felt a compulsion, a forward movement. Dizziness made her stomach roil as if she were in a spinning transport pod with a bad gravitational power grid.

The lightheadedness overwhelmed her, images blurring, swimming in swirling liquid colors, until a face appeared before her. Annie.

The brown-skinned Master Guardian shot to her feet, her golden eyes wide in shock.

Angel felt pain... in her foot, but when she would have looked down, Annie cupped her face and held it tight.

"No-no-no. Shhh..." Golden eyes held her immobile. A hand gripped her foot. "It's okay. It's only Rowie. Devon's been teaching you to teleport, huh?"

Angel shook her head, feeling faint. "No," she rasped, and then, to her shock, collapsed into Annie's arms.

Her brow and upper lip beaded in sweat as Annie lifted her and placed her on a soft white lounger.

"What's going on?" Angel asked feeling weak.

Rowie hovered over her blurry vision. "Angel, you just appeared here out of nowhere. You teleported yourself with your foot right under a metal chair."

Angel frowned at her, her mind still spinning in disorientation.

Anniel smiled at her. "Thank God it was only your foot that was impaled by the leg of the chair. It could have been both your legs through the middle of the seat."

Rowie made a face. "That would have been a lot nastier to fix. Ew."

Angel sat up to look at her foot, their meaning clear now. Devon had warned her how tricky teleporting was.

She was in a room similar to the one Lucien had taken her to before, but that room was plain compared to this one. Feminine touches, like flowers, bottles of perfume and glittering jewelry filled the counter over the drawers that took up one entire wall. A furry white coverlet draped over a round bed that sat upon a lighted pedestal rising a few inches off the floor. Big, round fuchsia chairs, with chromed legs were grouped together around the velvety lounger she sat upon. There was a puddle of blood around one of them. Angel looked at her foot again and wiggled her toes in her boot. It was only slightly sore.

"You'll have a pale spot there for a while, but no scar." Annie smiled.

Angel stared at her, suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to cry. The woman was so pretty with her dark skin and golden eyes. Her arms bulged with muscles and her breasts were round and jutting. Lillique was dark too, and, though she wasn't built like a warrior like this woman, her curves were rounded and feminine. Angel was their complete opposite; skinny, scrawny, almost flat chested, and colorless.

Angel lowered her gaze in shame. She'd once begrudged Anniel because Devon loved her. Not only was she beautiful, she was also a good person from what Angel could see.

"Hey, what's with the face, cutie?" Rowie asked sweetly.

Angel took a deep breath, preparing to answer anything—but the truth.

"She's in love with him." Annie caressed her face, and this time Angel could not contain the tears that spilled hotly down her cheeks.

"I don't know how or when," she began, trying to make sense of the situation. "I was ordered to bring him back to Venushti. I'm training to become a Venushtian priestess. I'm not supposed to feel attraction to males."

"Says who?"

Angel looked at Rowie. Her black eyes glittered with confusion.

"I never felt attraction for anyone... until I... saw Devon for the first time." She closed her eyes with a shudder, remembering the moment the vapor in the stasis unit had cleared.

"He is beautiful, isn't he," Annie chuckled making Angel blink at her in confusion.

"He had a young boy's infatuation with you. Why didn't you correspond?" Angel couldn't help asking.

Annie's smile faded and she blinked suddenly moist eyes. "I've always loved Devon... like a little brother." She sighed and looked away. "I always had a feeling he liked me more than just as a sister, but back when we were still teens... I guess I was too taken in by the presence of the Seraphs. Guess I suffered from a case of being angel-struck," she finished nibbling the corner of her lip as her pretty eyes darted back up to look at Angel.

"I had it really bad for Dev," Rowie confessed drawing Angel's attention. Her cheeks flushed becomingly as she cleared her throat. "...and Luke. But they both treated me like their kid sister." She rolled her eyes with a huff.

"Except..." Annie grimaced.

Rowie grinned and bit her lip, then looked up at Angel apologetically. "We found Dev really upset once in the enviro-level. He'd had another of his epic fights with Lillique." Rowie looked at Anniel, shifting in her seat as she pursed her lips and then blurted, "Annie and I both took turns kissing him so he'd break out of his glum mood."

Angel gasped. "Both? Kissing... but..." She didn't know what to say. It sounded so perverse, both of them kissing Devon... taking turns.

"We love each other," Anniel defended. "We all love each other."

Rowie put her hand on Angel's knee, her dark eye imploring. "We're one, Angel. When one of us hurts, we all hurt."

Rowie hugged Angel, kissing her cheek, as Anniel's arm also wound around both of them. Both girl's smile warmly at her.

Something surged through Angel. Was this what having family felt like? She felt their energy flow through her. Anniel's sorrow over losing her child was almost unbearable. The image of a golden-skinned baby with one fluffy white wing came into Angel's mind. She relived Rowie's lonely existence as an outcast girl on Earth, Zak's agony at being rebuked by his father, his mother's memory being erased of his very existence. Angel felt Seth's isolation and fear of learning to love again and being rejected once more, because of what he was. Devon's agony speared through her, his confusion, his desperation, and fear... and his love for her.

She couldn't feel Remien... at all.

"Where is he?" Angel whispered.

"Who?"

Angel looked at Rowie. The girl was more than a little attracted to the red-haired were-dragon. She cared about him... wanted him as much as he longed for her.

"Shit," Rowie cursed. "He's not on Alpha 7." She turned tortured eyes to Angel. "I know he's a prick, but he wouldn't do anything as vile as to plan mass destruction on a galactic scale."

"And which one of you would?"

Rowie shook her head, her brows narrowing over glittering eyes. "None of us. There has to be another explanation. None of us could be capable of such a thing."

"We were all captured, Angel. So it had to be someone outside of us," Annie added.

"We've got to find Remien and get to the bottom of this." Angel closed her eyes and felt for Devon again. "Devon is blaming himself."

***

Devon hurtled through space toward the Seraphian solar system. Lucien, Seth, and Zak gave chase, imploring him to turn back. He ignored them and doubled his speed, losing them in the blink of an eye. He was going too fast, knowing how he could rip time space continuum. Only the Divine One knew what would happen were he to accomplish that.

Devon slowed, but still breached the security perimeter of Seraphia. He plunged directly toward the summit of the holy city of Angelos, his Viper streaming ice and fire like a comet as it hit the atmosphere.

His eyes barely registered the turquoise sea with its foaming waves pounding the edges of Mount Chielos. The metropolis of Angeloria glittered with its white and glass structures clinging to the craggy mountain face. The holy city of Angelos was clearly visible by the delineation of the stone fortress wall. On the other side, lush green lawns and forest of willows cradled a sprawling castle made of white rock.

Devon slowed the momentum of his Viper, landing it with a soft thud in front of the fountain before the main entrance of the castle. The moment he jumped out of his transport pod, black winged reapers surrounded him, their swords drawn, and wings spread out behind their backs. Astonishment was clear on all of their faces.

"The dark prince?"

"Davariel?"

"No. it can't be!"

An older reaper, his black leather pants and gold band around his forehead denoting him as a high priest, approached Devon with a fierce scowl. The edge of his blade came against his neck, an impatient tick jumping in his cheek. He stared at the blade, his eyes widening slightly, then he scowled deeper and growled.

"Who in Hades are you? How dare you step on holy soil!"

"I'm Devon Angelos-"

"Blasphemy," he shouted. "Only holy warriors carry that surname."

"Those that raised me told me that was my name," Devon argued. "I doubt they would lie."

"Only those born with black wings have the right to carry that name." The high priest tilted his head sideways, trying to see behind him. "You are not even Seraph." The breeze lifted his golden hair as bright grey eyes narrowed over snarling lips. "Who raised you? Who told you this lie that your surname is Angelos?"

"The Seraphian Master Guardians that guarded Edenia, before the last seven demons took over," another deep voice rumbled.

Devon's gaze turned to see another high priest step out from the multitude of reapers. This one looked much younger, his dark hair shot through with auburn highlights and his body as massively built as Zak's.

Cold grey eyes narrowed on his face, full lips twisted in contempt as he approached. The high priest yanked his sword from his sheath and lifted it high over his head.

Devon closed his eyes, waiting for the blow that would surely end his miserable life. The wind picked up, whipping his hair across his face, bringing with it the scent of blooms, sweet, and intoxicating... so familiar.

Devon opened his eyes with a jolt. Before him, all reapers, including the two high priests were kneeling reverently to his Dominatio, the strange child-like entity that made sporadic appearances throughout his life.

Anger. It swept through him like wildfire, making him clench his fists.

"Why did you stop him?" Devon whispered. The urge to cry, to scream, and lash out overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from the prone reapers to the sad-faced cherub. "Why do you show yourself now?" he shouted, his voice piercing the silence. "Where the fuck have you been all this time I've had demons and devils driving me insane?"

The cherub only pouted, blinking big blue eyes, its little wings a busy blur at its back

The dark-haired high priest gasped, his head snapping up to gape at Devon.

Devon could care less. His body ignited, blue flame curling from his skin, much like Remien when he lost control. He knew what that creature really looked like, and it was no baby. With the roar of a beast, Devon launched himself at the Dominatio, only to be intercepted by the two high priests. They gripped him hard, their black wings roaring like thunder behind their backs. Still, they fought hard to topple him to the ground. Devon struggled, cursing, and thrashing in their hold.

"Are you mad?" the golden-haired one rasped. "That is a divine angel!"

"Divine my ass!" Devon snarled, then immediately felt pain in his face.

The dark-haired high priest went nose to nose with him, shaking the bruised fist he'd just punched Devon with. He gripped Devon's throat with his other free hand. "Utter one more blasphemous word, demon, and I shall rip you from bowels to throat even if I'm cursed by all Dominatios for the rest of my existence."

The reapers eyes had gone completely black, no whites showing. By touch alone, had Devon truly been unholy, he'd have turned to ash by now because of the reaper's special abilities. The large hand around his throat gripped him tighter, almost keeping him from breathing.

"Release him," the Dominatio ordered.

The high priest obeyed, though somewhat reluctantly, his lips still peeled back from his teeth in a sneer.

He released Devon as if letting go of something distasteful, then turned beseeching eyes to the cherub. "How could you protect one like him? Is it because of his mother?"

Devon froze. His mother?

"There are things that are not yours to understand. It is not your task to destroy him," the cherub said.

"Then who's... so that I may seek this angel of redemption to rid us of this abomination?" the high priest implored, stabbing an accusing finger at Devon.

The cherub faded, leaving in its wake thousands of fragrant blooms falling from the sky to bury them ankle deep.

Devon snorted, lip curling in disgust. "Typical." Both high priests, as well as the reapers, turned to look at him, frowning. "At least I see I'm not the only one it never gives a straight answer to." His eyes snapped back to the dark-haired high priest. "Who was my mother?"

He stared at Devon, his frown deepening, his lips taught, almost pursed. "She was an Edenian Master Guardian."

The golden-haired high priest snapped his head to the other high priest, blinking in surprise.

Devon frowned. "My mother was a Seraph?"

To Devon's annoyance, he didn't answer. "Get up, and get out!"

Devon rose to his feet, but didn't turn back to his Viper. He let out a pulse of power that made the reapers shiver.

The dark-haired high priest's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

Devon felt two more spikes of power, and focused on the strongest of the two. With a sneer, he raised both fists and flicked them off before teleporting into the castle.

The high priestess sat on the sill of an arched window over-looking the sea. The golden light of the sun poured in, making her hair blaze like fire. Her ebony wings drooped to the floor, the slight breeze ruffling the inky feathers. She wore a black sheath, open at the sides, and tied at the waist with a thick, golden belt. Around her head, she also wore a golden band, typical of her rank.

Her grey eyes stared out, unseeing to the horizon. She took a deep breath and for a moment, Devon could have sworn he saw her lush lips quiver. Her eyes closed with a sigh and she brought a golden goblet to her lips. Halfway there, her hand stopped. Her eyes snapped open and she turned to look at him.

Devon watched as all color fled from her face and the goblet dropped from her hand. It bounced on the floor, spilling wine and making a loud clanging noise that echoed off the stone walls.

Her mouth gaped, and her hand flew to her heart. Recognition. She knew who he was even though he was sure he'd never laid eyes on her before.

"Dava?" she choked out, getting to unsteady feet. "Davariel?"

Devon's heart raced and he took a step back. Why was she calling him by the angel of destruction's name?

Her eyes looked him over more closely, frowning. She shook her head, staring pointedly at his dark hair, and then she gasped, covering her mouth as her eyes bulged. "Oh, dear sweet God!"

Devon backed up more as she rushed him, but his back met the unyielding wood of one of the double doors to the sparsely furnished chamber.

Her hands slammed to either side of his face, as her sandaled feet touched the stone floor, and her black wings resettled themselves against her back. Now, eye to eye, she leaned in and sniffed at him. She reached up, and took a thick ribbon of his hair and examined it. She smiled, choking back a sob. "Luciel. You've got Luciel's hair."

Devon continued to stare at her, hoping she would help sort out his confusion. She dropped the strand of hair and cupped his face. "You're exactly like him. The same... identical... except for the black hair."

Devon swallowed, terrified of asking her like who. The dark prince?

She stepped back, looking him up and down, "but you're shorter..." Her hands spanned his chest and abdomen, feeling his musculature, "with a heavier build. Of course," she closed her eyes with a sigh, "poor thing had barely come into full bloom when he became a fallen—"