I'll take your sins, baby. The Demon I am finds beauty in your pain and chaos. A magnificent end to your deliberate malevolence, that's what I'll give you.
"Where the hell are you, pretty girl?" I grind out in my mind while the icy water rolls across my body. I'm on my back in our bathtub at the home I live in now with Luna and Elijah. Stella and Nathanial come back and forth, but they have their own place hidden away in the city that they can escape to when they aren't reigning over Avernus.
"Let go, Leon. You know it's the only way you can reach her." Luna's soft voice breaks through my concentration and I flex my fists in irritation.
"I know how this fucking works, new girl. Have you forgotten I've been a Demon my entire life? I wasn't thrown into it like you were." The second I lose focus, the ice penetrates my mind and reminds me exactly how insanely cold this is. I groan out in both discomfort and frustration. I just need to find her. Then I can get out of this fucking mess.
"I know, I know," Luna says quietly, slipping back into her usual silence while she sits in the corner and supervises these fucking sessions. We've been doing this for months now—at least ten. I come in here once a day and try to find Amelia in my mind. I focus on our bond, on my undying need to have my hands on her body, around her throat, in her fucking hair.
I think of my sister, how close we both were to Amelia. I try to remember what our relationship was like when we were kids, when she was Millie... the freely running spirit high on life and discovery.
Life. She used to love living. She focused her time around plants and animals and little creatures that we usually found trite and disgusting. Not Millie, she was the one saving displaced moles and spiders.
A searing pain rips through my limbs at those thoughts, flashes of the terrible things Amelia has done replace the nostalgic memories I crave to hold on to. She's reminding me, and I fucking hate her for it. She does this every single fucking time I'm in here.
She knows I'm trying to find her now. And she doesn't want to surrender.
I let my head slip under the chilled water, the jagged bits of ice slip over my face and create a silent barrier with the rumbled sound around me. The water flows, sloshing in muted echoes in my ears. Everything gets impossibly darker, an empty abyss while I force my mind to let go of my current reality.
I need to access the other dimension, where we can find each other outside of the physical world we're in.
That's exactly when I feel it though, her presence around me. My eyes open within my mind, seeking her out while I know she's finally close. It's been so long, and while I want her blood on my hands, I also want her figure in my vision. I want to see her, meet the eyes that betrayed my sister so viciously; meet the gaze that destroyed the only person I ever cared for.
"Don't be a coward, Millie. I've been waiting for you."
Silence. She says nothing, but I know she's here. I can feel the waves of darkness rolling through our blood, inking my skin in her sadistic mark. I step forward in my mind, even though I can't see anything of significance. The ground below me is a reflection, like shallow waves of water showing me only my own, weakly mirrored self. It’s not even a sliver of who I know I can be, if only I was free of this fucking bond.
"Come on, show me where you are," I spit out, attempting to keep my anger at a somewhat manageable level. But the longer she holds out, the worse I'll become. I can feel it. "I'll save you, Amelia."
Lies. I'll simply be delivering her a new monster. One that has years of pain and vengeance built within.
"I don't want to be saved," her voice is weak, but firm. Never giving in, that's like Millie. When she makes a decision, she drowns in it.
"What if I told you, I have no intentions of being a savior in this?" I say, raising my voice just a bit as I halt my steps. I close my eyes again, willing her to come closer, or for my blood to find her obscure location.
"I've never thought of you as the savior, Leon. You've always been trouble. Even when we were kids."
Still, nothing. She's a vague figure of nearness, her pain and emotions amplified, but only barely, though my body instinctually calls to hers. My strength and the ache of being this close sharpens so significantly my breaths fall at a quicker pace.
More images of what she's done, of my sister, flash through my mind on repeat and I groan out as the pain of remembering rips through me. "Why the fuck do you keep doing this?" I shout, stumbling forward just a bit while my hand clutches my chest.
It's all too much. Her pain, my own, Nya's; all of it is overwhelming.
"To remind you of who I am."
"I fucking remember, bitch." The words slip through gritted teeth and I force my mind to focus on her location again. The quicker I find her, the quicker I can kill her and destroy this sick bond.
"I'm not redeemable, Leon. You can't save me, you can't change me. There's nothing left inside of me to claim. I'm an empty vessel, built and designed for the chaos I've already created." Satan, she sounds exactly as she says. There's no remorse, no pain, no semblance of humanity left inside of her. She's completely empty. Hell, I don't think she can even feel what they're doing to her anymore.
"Do you think that's what I want to do for you, Millie? Transform you into some sort of good person?" I speak slowly, centering myself on exactly what I need to find. I'm getting closer to her, even through our bond, through the shell of what she's made of, I'm taking one step nearer. "Let me make things incredibly clear for you, pretty girl. I don't want to save you. I want to slaughter you. I don't want to redeem you, baby. I want revenge for what you've done. I want you to pay, in screams of pain and prayers for death."
The air turns frigid, but a wash of comforting resolve solidifies on both sides of our bond. We're coming to an agreement here, reaching some sort of solution in the midst of hunting.
"I want your blood, pretty girl. I'm coming to find you."
Chapter Three
Luna
I gasp as Leon harshly emerges from the icy water, his slick hands frantically grasping the edges of the tub as he breathes. His disheveled hair now hangs over his forehead strands of dripping water. Elijah and I told him to do this without his clothes, honestly. Once he steps out of the tub, the freezing temperature of the water simply makes things worse when his sopping wet outfit clings to him.
But he refuses. Every single time, he gets in—fully clothed—and then climbs out and instead of turning on a hot shower, he intentionally stays in them. He goes to his room, turns off the light, and sits in the corner while he remains closed off to everything else. It’s as if he likes to rest and revel in the pain, in the freezing temperatures Amelia tends to exemplify. Maybe that’s where he finds his own comfort.
“Why don’t you take a hot shower this time, Leon?” I start, just as he stands and the water sloshes below him. His black tee clings to his broad chest and rippled abs and I can’t help but admire him. He’s attractive, absolutely. But he’ll never be what Elijah is to me, and the consistent pulse of aching need that flows through my bond reminds me of that.