Seeker: Demon Killers [Fantasy/Action | Complete]

Chapter 53: A Minefield of History

"Azyazel: ready our troops," said Tora, watching the backs of Carlos and Abaddeon disappear into the new portal. Cimerus raised a hand and sealed it neatly with a single finger.

There was a pause. Tora turned, frowning. Azyazel met her blue-eyed gaze for a few more seconds with a stoic expression before inclining his head and disappeared through one of the doorways. The light from the flames on his head disappeared with his footsteps.

Ross emitted a groan and ran a hand through her tangled hair. Giving a small sigh, she still kept her eyes on the small demons standing against the walls holding the flames and on Cimerus.

"Your friend is still wary of us, Lilitha," said Cimerus from the other end of the table. There was a smile on his lipless, black-skinned face. His eyes, golden with slit pupils and no whites, were filled with amusement. Tora shot him a vehement look before turning her back on him.

"Ross?"

Ross put a hand to her forehead and shook her head, as if she were having a massive migraine. One of the small demons pushed a Smallgrill chair behind her and she collapsed onto it.

"I don't understand any of this..." she muttered. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Tora could appreciate the conflict. Ross always saw so clearly in black and white, right or wrong, but the human world was gone and she was caught up in this millennia-long conflict between different worlds where human laws and logic did not have a place – where she did not have a place.

"I'm with the enemy, oh god..."

It seemed like seeing Abaddeon take Carlos's blood pushed her over the edge.

"We're not the enemy, Ross."

"You're the enemy of humans. My god, look at you." Ross gestured up and down at Tora, who was clad in her normal clothes and had her dark hair tied back. "Whose blood did you take to get this? What poor girl lost her life so you could look like her?"

Tora hesitated. Truth be told, she couldn't remember. Shifters seldom preyed on humans, but this appearance wasn't her own.

"It's just the way demons are, Ross. We war. We fight."

"And I want no part in this."

"But it's Markl on the other side."

Ross's jaw tightened and her hands turned to fists at the mention of his name.

"If you know nothing about the history between Shifters and Sentinels, at least you saw Markl kill Damien. If you're not with Shifters, you're with Damien, right?"

"Revenge doesn't make a right, Tora."

She buried her head in her hands and sighed again. The Smallgrill bone chair beneath her glowed, highlighting her sunken cheeks.

"Markl, he..." Ross closed her eyes and lifted her head, rubbing her temples. "He told us back then... he told us the history of the Lyres and what happened. He told us why the Shifters wanted the Artefact so badly."

"Of course he would," Cimerus chimed in, leaning back on his chair, long legs folded in front of him. Tora shot him a glare. "What? Sentinels are renowned for being proficient liars and tale-spinners. No remotely-intelligent demon would ever associate with them."

"He called himself a Lyre."

Cimerus burst out in laughter. "L-I-A-R I would agree with. He is a Sentinel. Lyres are long extinct."

Ross swallowed. "I gathered much of what he said was lies, but there must be an element of truth."

"What did he tell you?" said Tora, her throat dry. Where was she during this? How could Markl spread such lies to manipulate their friends – all for his own self gain?