I do love my protagonists that was a given when I wrote this series, but what surprised me was I loved my antagonists just as much. It’s very cathartic to write them, they get to say and do all the BAD things! Although they get their comeuppance (sort of)I enjoyed Orias and Lassal very much while they were around to stir the pot.
The Dark Star: Book Two of the Revel Night Saga
Chapter Forty
“Never!”
He threw the heavy cut crystal glass, shattering the mirror over the bureau and then kicked over the coffee table sending the decanter of Hellsbane smashing to the floor. “Bitch!” he screamed.
His wide-eyed servant poked his head up over the couch. The idiot had taken the exact wrong moment to announce that Orias’ expected visitor had arrived. The moment being just as he had finished reading the missive sent to him by his mother.
“How could she?” He found something else to throw and a satisfying crashing occurred, of what he didn’t care his rage was all consuming at that instant. “How dare she!”
“Your Majesty the Lord Lassal!” the servant called over his shoulder, scurrying out of the room.
“Never!” he screamed again kicking the footstool across the room.
“Hells Bells, man!” Lassal’s head swiveled as he took in Orias’ trashed apartment. “This a bad time?”
Orias swore and collapsed onto the sofa, he’d worked up an actual sweat. Lassal walked into the room; stopping by the upended table he nudged the smashed decanter with the tip of his loafer. “No way to treat a two-thousand year old Hellsbane, whatever the matter.”
Orias snorted and grinned, scrubbing his hands over his face. Good old Lassal. His friend and minion could make light in any situation. He finger combed his hair back between his horns and smoothed the sides, then straightened his shirt and righted the French cuffs, noticing he’d lost a cufflink.
“There’s more in the bar,” he told Lassal.
As Lassal helped himself to the liquor Orias re-read the missive. Pursing his lips he shook his head. “Never in a million years, mother,” he murmured. A very large pour of amber liquor was shoved in front of his face. He accepted the glass and drank deeply.
“Looks like you need it worse than me,” Lassal said. He tipped an armchair back to stand and took a seat across from him.
“Is that the reason for the shades?” Orias asked him.
“What?”
“Hangover?” Orias said tapping his temple.
“Ah, oh…yes,” Lassal adjusted the glasses to sit more firmly on his face. “A real brain crusher.”
“Here’s to the hair of the dog,” Orias raised his glass.
“Woof!” Lassal took a big swallow of his Hellsbane and let out a satisfied sigh.
“Explains the smell too.”
“Beg pardon?”
“You smell like a rotting gym sock stuffed with cheese.” Orias said. “How many beds did you visit last night?”
Lassal shrugged. “My Master bade me to attend him and I flew immediately to his side.”
“Well, next time take a shower.”
“Yes my prince,” he said bowing his head. “Am I correct in assuming the reason for the redecoration is that letter you hold?”
Orias got up and handed it to him. “Read for yourself.”
He continued past Lassal and on to the bar draining his glass as he walked. Pouring himself more, he leaned against the bar as Lassal read. He marked the moment when Lassal came to the important part—the part that had set him off—he gasped his mouth falling open.
“Impossible!” Lassal said.
“Apparently not,” he said dryly.
“But, there are laws in place dictating the right of succession!”
“Of which she has rewritten with the blessing of the Counsel of Representatives,” Orias explained. “It’s all a very happy coincidence that the majority of counsel members are either her minions or sires to her children.”
Lassal swore. “But that half-breed kid over you as her heir? Is she insane? Surely the people of the Demonic realm will be up in arms!”
“Will they?” Orias sneered. “Baby brother put on quite a show at the sacrifice ceremony. It was his blow that killed Alocer. He’s being touted as a savior, he and his little girlfriend,” he growled and threw his glass at the media screen, which shattered.
Lassal straightened from ducking to avoid getting creamed by Orias’ glass. “So you’re out, Daniel’s in—for now,” Lassal rushed to add. “What’s the plan?”
Orias smiled. Good old Lassal, always the pragmatic one. He walked back over to the couch, plucking the letter out of Lassal’s hand. “Well I’d rather gut myself than become that little pukes minion, as the Queen implores me to do.”
“So not much has changed then, you’ll still have the fight for the crown.”
Orias nodded. “I’m still prepared to do so. More resolved, in fact.”
“Which begs my question again, my Lord. What is the plan?”
“I need reinforcements naturally, it’s the only way I can tip the balance in my favor.”
“Sure. Who do you have in mind?”
“An old friend.” Orias smiled. “Someone who wields extraordinary power and has bodies to spare. Someone who, most importantly, is in my debt.”
“Anyone I know?”
“I wouldn’t think so, his name is Patrik Belizaire.”
“You’re right, I’ve never heard of him.”
“Nor would you have, he’s a Mortal.”
“And you say he owes you? Sounds like an entertaining story.”
“One for another time though, Lassal.”
Orias stood and went into his office; he punched the combination into his safe and retrieved a small box wrapped in muslin. Written upon the muslin were magical spells in cuneiform, one of the most ancient of all the Mortal languages.
“And this brings me to the reason why I’ve summoned you in the first place. You need to send a message to him for me.”
“What of the embargo?”
He handed the wrapped box to Lassal who flinched as something inside it hissed when came into contact with his hands. Orias chuckled. “No media blackout can stop this form of communication, my friend.”
Lassal stared at the box. “What would you have me do?”
“You take the box and set it ablaze.”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“You’ll tell Belizaire that it’s time to repay his debt. The embargo will be lifted the day of the Queen’s coronation so that those living outside the Demonic realm can make the pilgrimage home to celebrate. Tell him I’ll meet him then.” Orias stood and his minion knew he was dismissed. Lassal got up and went to the door. “And Lassal?”
“Yes, Master?”
“For Satan’s sake take a shower! Preferably in bleach.”
Lassal smiled, or maybe it was a smirk, only one side of his face moved. He bowed deeply. “At once, my King.”
“I like the sound of that,” Orias smiled wide. “I like the sound of that very much.”
Another excerpt tomorrow! Stay tuned!
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