Garden of Serpents (The Demon Queen Trials #3)(5)

She nodded. “No more Orion. I’m just saying there are better, less genocidal options who are also hot as fuck. You know, once you win the trials. Get yourself in a positive headspace before you come into the City of Thorns. Find a new man, one less murdery.”

Every inch of my body was tightening with resolve. “I’m perfectly happy. But what matters now is stopping a tyrant before he slaughters all the humans.” I lifted my coffee in salute. “And that all starts tonight.”

She heaved a deep breath. “Okay. But you should probably know that the demon hunters are completely staked out by the entrance, waiting for you to walk up to that gate.”

Anticipation crackled over me. “Good thing Orion showed me the tunnel system, then.”





3





ROWAN





Beneath the City of Thorns, the world was quiet as death. I stalked through the shadows in borrowed clothes, all black. A bag bounced against my hip as I walked, heavy with the weight of the gauntlet.

From under the city, I could hear vibrations through the stones—the sounds of dancing and singing.

In the initial trial by combat, no weapons were allowed. Fortunately, Tammuz had trained me to fight like a demon: unarmed, but using my claws as a weapon.

Just beneath the demon city, the promise of magic beckoned me closer. Once I was in their world—my world—power and grace would flow through my body. Images flared in my thoughts: Orion’s eyes darkening to black, his lip pulled back from his fangs as he lunged for me…

Hard not to hear his words replaying in my mind. You don’t have it in you, love.

My fingertips curled, and ice-cold anger rushed through my body, chilling me to the marrow. My fury was a hurricane wind that drowned out all the thoughts in my mind.

As I reached the place where a few cracks of light pierced the darkness, I no longer had words with which to think.

Fingers and toes gripping the spaces between the rocks, I climbed up the tunnel wall. With one hand, I pushed the metal covering aside. The star-dappled night arched over me, and I breathed in the fragrant, humid air of the City of Thorns.

When I pulled myself out onto the dark riverside, my magic slammed into me, spreading outward from my lungs. Power skimmed down my thighs, my calves—hot and delicious, a buzzing warmth. Faintly, I was glowing, overcome by the urge to run and fly and tear through the air, singing to the stars. The return of my power was like taking the first breath of air after being held underwater—glorious.

Forcing myself to focus, I crouched down and slid the cover back over the opening, then straightened to take in my surroundings. The Acheron River rushed past me to the left, and the dark Elysian Wilderness spread out behind it, its shadows strangely inviting. My mouth started watering. I hungered to sprint through that primal darkness—to hunt like I had in the underworld.

I’d fought there once, but I was no longer the Rowan who needed makeshift flame throwers to survive a battle. I’d journeyed to the underworld. I’d died at the hands of a raving mob. I’d come back to life. I’d learned lessons at the hands of a god.

I wasn’t stupid enough to think this would be easy, but I had a chance.

I turned, eyeing the apartment I’d stayed in—the one with a view of the pool. A little blade pierced my chest when I recalled the alliance Orion and I once had when he was teaching me to act like a succubus. Didn’t really need those lessons, as it turned out.

I started to hurry toward the festival, my nerves sparking. I moved quickly past the Asmodean Ward and into the ward of Abaddon. As I turned away from the river, golden stone buildings towered over me. When I drew closer to the Tower of Baal on the eastern edge of the city, the sound of the festival floated on the wind, rhythmic and intoxicating.

My skin tingled with anticipation as I stalked through an alleyway, and I felt my hips swaying with the confidence of a succubus. Through an archway, I crossed into the broad square before the Tower of Baal. A glittering, bejeweled crowd spread out before me.

I had to hand it to Orion. Seemed like he knew how to put on a party, even after all those years in isolation. In the air, glowing lights hung suspended by magic, some shaped like crescents and some like full moons. On the other side of the square, rays of silver light projected the moon’s cycles onto the walls outside the tower.

Demons whirled and danced to a mesmerizing beat, with the sound of vocal harmonies layered over it. Most of the guests wore white and silver, and their flutes of champagne seemed to shimmer, opalescent. A tree stood in the center of the square—one that hadn’t been there weeks ago. It towered above the revelers, and pearly lanterns hung from its gnarled boughs like plump jewels.

Tonight, the stars seemed brighter than ever, and the vibrance of the full moon almost made it seem like it had shown up to party along with its worshippers.

No one had noticed me yet, lurking in the shadows. Unseen, I reached into the bag at my hip and pulled out the gauntlet.

From the corner of the square, I scanned the crowd, searching for the king. Most new monarchs would relish the limelight and take center stage. But apparently, that wasn’t Orion’s style. A festival honoring night was perfect for him, when he kept as much as possible cloaked in darkness—including the truth about himself.

I dropped the empty bag at my feet.

Gripping the iron gauntlet, I took a few steps into the square. Slowly, the eyes started to turn to me, and one or two people yelped, smacking the arms of their dancing partners. A hush spread over the festival as whispers began to spread. The music faded to silence, and the crowd parted around me. Tension thickened the air.