Walking with the Devil

Kit was already thoroughly irritated and angry with herself following the raid on the orc village. She should have been more prepared, should have been smarter. It wasn’t like her to charge into something without caution, without assessing the situation. But they had been short on time, and Fae was in trouble. And fuck. If she had just left him, she’d hate herself. Killian would probably hate her too – or at least, be furious with her. The elder twin had taken quite a shining to the kid, and she was the only one close enough to chase him down.
 
But she had failed. The orcs had flanked her and hit like fucking mountains, and before she knew what was going on she had lost consciousness. As if that wasn’t enough, she woke to find Theran to be the one healing her and who finished off one of the two orcs.
 
Asmodeous’ breath, she grumbled, as she and Killian rowed up the stream.
 
“Oh Kit, my breath is never far,” a familiar voice echoed in her mind.
 
She ignored it.
 
“I’m disappointed, pet,” Asmodeous continued. “You’re going soft. That brother of yours, his heart is rubbing off on you. Tsk tsk. We’re going to have to do something about that.”
 
Kit grunted in frustration, refusing to look at Killian. She already knew he was aware of what was going on. Killian had told her, years ago, she had this way about her whenever the taunting came. A demeanour that would pass over her. She had tried over the years to hide it, but nothing ever came of it.
 
“What is he saying now Kit?”
 
Kit didn’t answer. She just watched the water as they paddled, focusing on the task at hand, trying to block the laughter from her mind.
 
“Kit!” Killian’s tone was sharper now. “I’ll be damned if you don’t start talking to me.”
 
“I messed up, Killian, and he knows it. He’s rubbing it in, like always.”
 
“Are y’fucking with me right now sister? How many times have I been knocked out in recent days? And you’ve been knocked down nigh but once, maybe twice? He can get fucked.”
 
“Not right now, Killian,” Kit warned. She wasn’t in the mood to be talked down, and shutting out Asmodeous was taking the little of the strength she had left. They had to flee the camp so quickly, she hadn’t had time to clean or wrap any of her wounds. Wouldn’t be the first time she nearly stained these clothes, she mused.
 
After the group had found the old hunter’s cabin, Kit sat, listening to the conversation. Half-listening, at least. She wasn’t really in the mood, though tried to at least pretend to feign interest. Until Fae spoke, and shared what he had overheard. Kit watched as Felicity had barely reacted to the news of the setup, and her insides twisted into knots. She felt like she was about to throw up, and rage began to boil up inside of her.
 
“Oh this is a delight,” Asmodeous chuckled. “I didn’t even have to arrange this one.”
 
Arrange this one? Kit felt the colour drain from her face. She should have known. She should have fucking known. Iril had probably been in some kind of damned debt to him.
 
“I told you I was waiting for the opportune moment, pet.”
 
At that, Kit had burst, yelling at Felicity, feeling her rage and anger towards the woman who had allowed them to walk into a massive trap. Any trust she had been feeling for the forester was gone. And then the revelation that half their group was either lawmen or there for ulterior motives. Of course they were. Of course.
 
Her party, she didn’t find herself losing trust for, but suddenly, as she heard Killian arguing with Devlin over the realization, she began howling. Laughing hysterically and deeply. She couldn’t help herself. It was too rich. She had told Killian right from the start that the deal was bogus. That there was some kind of plot afoot. And now, here they were, caught in another plot that involved people wanting to kill them.
 
She tried to calm Killian, sitting down again. Then, as she finally felt herself start to breathe, Asmodeous came back.
 
“Oh, I can’t wait until Killian dies this time. I have big plans for you, my pet. You can’t sell me your soul again, but you can barter with more. And my dear, I have more for you than just being my emissary. Oh, so much more.”
 
Kit felt a lump rise in her chest as she watched Killian. It felt as though she couldn’t breathe. She needed to get out of there, needed to feel pain, needed to get the voice out of her head.
 
Asmodeous laughed. “Yes, please, take me to where we can speak privately.”
 
Against Devlin’s cautioning, Kit continued out into the woods, staying as close as she could manage to the cabin without wandering too far.
 
“What more could you possibly want from me?” she said out loud, looking around, almost expecting him to appear.
 
The devil, however, stayed in her mind.
 
“Oh Kit, my little charmer, the lives you end for me keep my armies full, but I am always in need of more souls than debts, and you, dear, have the talents to con anyone into giving up their souls willingly.”
 
Kit clenched her fists. “No. I wouldn’t do it.”
 
“For your brother? Of course you would.”
 
Kit growled in frustration, punching a nearby tree hard enough the bark cracked.
 
“Killian won’t die again,” she snarled, punching the tree again.
 
“Yes, he will, pet. And when he does, you’ll except my offer. Without conditions this time.”
 
Kit began to punch the tree harder and harder. She wanted to argue with Amodeous, tell him even she had her lines, but they both knew it wasn’t true. She would do anything for Killian – anything. He was all she had, and she couldn’t live without him. She wouldn’t live without him. She’d have no-one. She’d have no purpose. Her entire life was focused on keeping Killian alive, on keeping him safe.
 
She didn’t want to think about a life without him. Killian always tried to tell her she’d find someone else to love her, but she knew that wasn’t true. She was a literal assassin for the ruler of the hells. She’d gutted men for touching her wrong, for looking at Killian wrong. And besides, she looked like a devil, as the humans especially liked to remind her. Who would want a murderous devil in their lives?
 
No. There was no life without her brother. And she was smart enough to know Asmodeous would never let her take her own life.
 
“That forester, what’s his name again? Arathorn? He’d make a nice ornament. We’ll start with him,” Asmodeous taunted. “That child, well, his soul is already forfeit. But I could find my uses. I’m sure some of the hell hounds would love a new toy.”
 
KIt fought the urge to scream, remembering Devlin’s words, and continued to punch the tree. She could feel her knuckles cracking and starting to bleed, but she didn’t care. She wanted him to stop.
 
“I’m sure I could find some artificers and sorcerer’s who would love to experiment on EGO. And your friend, Oak? You know, the one other person you actually like? Maybe I’ll have you make him my own, personal throneroom pet. What do you think, Kit?”
 
Kit growled in rage and spun around, kicking what remained of the small tree’s trunk with her foot. It let out a loud CRACK as it fell to the ground.
 
“Now, be a good little girl and go back before Killian comes looking for you. I rather like seeing you beaten down like this.”
 
Kit slumped her shoulders forward in defeat and walked back to the cabin silently.