On the Evil Scale: Keeper of La Tecla (The Key) Book Two

Weeks turned into months since Azir and I ventured toward the Great City, and knowing for sure without a doubt, that war was inevitable and coming to our shores, an army had been gathered for a defense of the Isle, our home. Contacting Steven and Nikolaas both in Penrith, I alerted them of the events and situations. They too, had grown worried but agreed to send an adequate amount of their very own Wraiths and Demons specifically, leaving a handful behind in a chance to defend their town, at least for now until things were sorted. Once more, I offered them and their townsfolk sanctuary, and it was an offer that was eagerly accepted with gracious appreciation.

Azir too, sent word to his brother Azim and the elders, requesting a horde of their kin. Receiving a reply with an arrival date that was two days hence, he worried anxiously, as did Natash who had foreseen many events that yielded different outcomes, both good and bad.

Sure enough, keeping their arrival dates precise, the Jinn from Africa, and both Wraiths and Demons from Penrith, arrived on the Isle.

The Jinn created an astounding reaction on a grand scale, appearing outside the gates dressed in their Leopard skins, armor forged in the metal of their kin, cloaks and turbans. Azim Gahiji-Zuberi, was Azir’s older brother, and their names that sounded so similar, but the two men couldn’t have been more different. While their features are similar, each Jinn had their own statuesque stride and posture, but he was a regal and culturally beautiful Nubian warrior. The tattoos that ran down the right side of his jaw and neck, defined his status, place in the Zuberi bloodline and were a bold contrast against his brown skin, gold eyes and trimmed beard also flecked gray. Hanging off his belt, were two large Scimitars and two daggers tucked away behind his back.

There were also women among the men, each carrying their weapon of choice, as they walked in feminine and powerful strides, they too, were beautiful and statuesque. It was a relief for the women warriors on the island like Sarah and Yzavela, for they weren’t the only female warriors among men. The Jinn women were equal to their male kin and male partners.

Derek too, called on other friends that lived in Scotland, giving them the excuse that he had arranged a job, receiving excellent feedback for at least twenty soldiers arrived, both mortal and Lycynians and their presence however, aggravated the Wraiths and Demons, for having more Lycynians on the Isle wasn’t something that they wanted, but all respected the aid nonetheless.

“Great, more men smelling like wet dogs.” Caleb complained as he, Nick and Justin patrolled the wall.

“Mm…just bloody preachy.” Justin hissed.

“Why do they have to smell so bad?” Nick mocked, looking at his friends, “I mean, just because they’re paranormals, doesn’t mean they have to smell like dogs, you know?” he jokingly pinched his nose, “I think the only one that doesn’t smell too bad is Anthony.”

“I think he’s the only one that we can actually tolerate period.” Caleb grinned, “He hasn’t done anything to us, treats us like any other, I’ve got nothing against him.” he shrugged.

“Me either.” Justin added, “But the others on the other hand? Eh…”

“Hey, you three!” Wyatt’s voice shouted loudly, “Get back to work!” he held out his arms, as if wondering what the hell they were doing.

“Sorry!” the three Wraiths all smiled then sped in opposite places on the wall.

It was official, the army was gathered.

Staring out the windows of the upstairs lounge outside the study, I couldn’t believe it was actually coming down to this. Gazing through the stained glass panels toward the gates where there were at least, give or take 2,450 warriors, this was happening. From 380 men from Penrith, both Wraith and Demons, 130 Jinn, 330 warriors from the island itself, and 40 of Derek’s comrades, the tension was building.

Even Leonus during this time, had no argument but felt disgruntled that he couldn’t contribute to the numbers gathered. He sent word to a cousin in Scotland but he never received a reply, perhaps it was the bad blood between them, he didn’t know but he knew that he wasn’t in the position to protest.

Lady D and the other magical practitioners strolled through the large encampment, both inside and outside the wall where there were tents pitched, offering food, water and blankets, even protection prayers or charms for some that held onto their faith.

“Hey.” a voice whispered in my ear, followed by arms wrapping tight around my waist, pulling me against their chest.

Raising my gaze over my shoulder, there stood Anthony. Sharing a few gentle kisses, I then turned, placing my hands against his chest, before sliding them down around his waist, wrapping them around. I leaned my head against his chest, feeling the comfort he offered.

“What are you thinking?” he rasped softly, rubbing his hands up and down her small back, then through the shorter ends of her hair that hung upon her shoulders.

“A lot.” I pulled away, looking into his dark eyes.

“Oh?” he wondered, moving strands of bangs out of her eyes.

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch.

“Come here…” he took her hands, guiding her to the couch. As they sat, he wrapped his right arm around her shoulder, listening to her concerns about the warriors, wondering how she was going to keep the balance between everyone involved, “As always my darling, you’ll figure it out in the end just before sh*t hits the fan.” he grinned as he looked down at her.

“It’s the sh*t that I’m worried, big loads of it I’m sure.” I complained.

“Perhaps then…” his hands slowly reached toward her waist, “both of us shouldn’t talk about sh*t. It’s depressing, especially when you and I are here, like this…” he began tickling her fiercely, “and alone.” he leaned in, kissing her longingly. Afterwards, managing to share a few spurts of laughter, things turned quite passionate.

“Bad time?” a voice unfortunately interrupted.

Clearing our throat, glancing toward the top of the stairs, there stood Molock leaning against the railing in a masculine manner, looking all godly in his appearance.

“Actually, yes. I thought you appear when your name is called out.” I uttered, adjusting my blouse that slid off my shoulders, “And clearly you were not summoned three times.” I side eyed Anthony, watching as he adjusted the pillows with an inconspicuous grin on his face.

“Normally yes, but I also appear to those that require my assistance, and that list I must say, it quite short.” the Sumerian chuckled lightly, “May I?” he gestured toward the love seat across from the two Latin lovers.

“By all means.” I was in no position to say no.

“What brings you here?” Anthony wondered curiously.

“You, or she, is in need at the moment for some advice, although I’m quite sure you’re not expecting it, so how can I help you other than being the perfection that sits before you?” he leaned back gesturing at himself.

“Vanity, isn’t a sin?” Anthony shifted in place.

“One of seven that I easily commit, Anthony Giovanni. And one that you have committed yourself at times.” Molock’s voice was blunt.

“Excuse me?” the Italian argued.

“We ALL…” I interrupted, “have moments when we admire what we are and what we have, there’s nothing wrong with that but to call it vanity, well…I wouldn’t think so.” I looked at Anthony, squeezing his hands, then glanced toward the DemonJinn, “Right?”

“Perhaps.” Molock leaned forward, “Now, am I granted to give you some advice that your Latin love here…” he gestured at Anthony, “has not?”

“Excuse me, yet again?!” Anthony frowned, leaning forward, slowly flashing his yellow eyes.

“Easy, big wolf…” I reached forward turning his gaze toward me, “I don’t need this from you too, Anthony please…calm down. It’s just the way he is, you know that. He’s just a trickster.” I referred to the Demons’ behavior and swuave words.

Looking deeply into her dark eyes that sparked with a faint flame, he leaned his head against her, then softly whispered telepathically,

“Apologies, I don’t like him. That’s all.”

“You don’t have to like him, I don’t like him, but he’s here for some strange reason without being summoned so perhaps we should hear him out.” I stroked his face, tracing my fingers along the tips of his chin, following the short portion of his beard and mustache combo, “Besides, I’m sure anything Molock has to say, can be heard in your presence.” I looked at the Sumerian that looked around as if he were contemplating the decor, “Right?”

“Hmm?” the DemonJinn looked back at her and the Italian, “Yes.”

“Now, with respect, what advice do you have to offer?” I continued.

“I want to know how things are coming along.” Molock muttered as he leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees.

“Smoothly I suppose, but I’ve never had to do this before, other than the few that were gathered for the Boar-wolves so I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right.” I answered.

“There is never a proper, or improper way to prepare for way, except to know who your enemy is and I am quite sure that you Demoness are most aware, that war comes in various forms. Either phys…”

“Demoness?” Anthony groaned protectively, “Could you not call her that?”

“Why?” Molock mocked, “She is part Demon, is she not?”

“Yes, but that isn’t all that she is!” Anthony complained, “She, above all else, is her own person.”

Grinning affectionately looking at Anthony, I admired his chivalry.

“Baby, it’s all right.” I rasped softly, “I don’t mind, really. It’s okay.”

Looking at her once more, Anthony sighed deeply, feeling a little too overly protective then apologized yet again, for he had never acted like this before with anyone, other than Thomas but that’s a different relationship and bond altogether.

“Yzavela, it’s all right.” Molock admired the man’s honorable intent, “I mean her no harm, and I admire your protectiveness of her, she’ll need it more than ever.” he slowly clapped his hands together as if he were nervous, “Now, may we move on from this and may I continue before I am summoned?” he glanced between them, receiving eager nods, “As I was saying, war comes in various forms, whether it is of the physical outburst, or verbal. No matter how a warrior lives their life, war always dwells in the shadows or around the corner, ready to strike. Or worse.” he paused, expressing sadness in his dark eyes, for a memory came back to him.

“Molock?” I tried looking at his face as he turned away.

“Are you all right?” Anthony wondered.

“Y-yes…” the Sumerian cleared his throat, “sorry. No one in this mortal and supernatural world are immune to ear, believe me, I more than most, know that all too well.”

“You’ve seen many wars?” Anthony questioned.

“For six thousand years? Every…single one in history from the start.” Molock revealed.

“Six thousand-eight hundred.” I added humorously, emphasizing his age.

“Right.” Molock grinned, “Eternity is a gift, but it’s also such a bore.” he complained with mocking yawn, “Now, getting back to the topic at hand here, you Yzavela…” he looked at her, “are not alone, you have your wolf and dragon, mother and your dedicated lover here that will protect you.”

“Husband.” both Anthony and Yzavela proclaimed proudly.

“Hus-husband?” Molock grew surprised.

“Yes, husband and please do me a favor, stop referring to him as my LOVER as if Anthony isn’t sitting right next to me.” I argued, “And secondly he has a name, and coming from a man that gains respect just by sitting there…” I gestured at Molock, “why don’t you show him some and call him by his name.” I steamed.

Realizing that he was causing her an offense, and mocking Anthony’s presence, Molock knew that she cared for him deeply, enough to be married to him. Adjusting his gauntlets in a moment of being put in his place, he looked at Anthony, apologizing sincerely.

“Accepted.” Anthony nodded.

“Thank you.” I affirmed, evaporating my steam, “Now…” I cleared my throat, “you’re making it sound like I’ll be fighting this war alone, what about all of them out there? And my friends?”

“Warriors out there, and friends that get in different moods from one to the next? You trust them?” Molock scoffed, “You’re stupid.” he looked at her, “They’re individuals that are only fighting with you, in your time of war, so they have an excuse to kill each other or their enemy. I wouldn’t trust them with my life, excluding present bodies, of course.” he nodded toward Anthony, “You know I’m right, there is no sense in denying it and before you and your mother came to the Isle, the fight against your past was yours and yours alone, just do me a favor, and remember that. Especially next time you speak with all of men, and women, gathered out there, friends or not.”

Staring at him in admiration, I bit my lip because Molock truly was a being that possessed such knowledge and ancient history. His words held such truth, even though he represented Lucifer, and worked for him.

“He’s right.” Anthony turned to her, gently taking her hands into his, “I can’t, or won’t, argue with him on that assumption and opinion. I am sure even Molock…” he leaned forward, looking at the Sumerian, “trusted only himself during the wars of his past, yes?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.” Molock nodded.

“Um…” Erik’s voice suddenly spoke as he appeared atop the stairs, “what the bloody hell is he doing here?!” he studied Molock sitting on the love seat, “Secret meetings with your lover, or lovers?”

Closing my eyes, realizing what a mistake it was trying to be friends with Erik, at the same time, I patted myself on the back for getting out of it before things turned worse.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but this isn’t what you think.” I snarled, opening my eyes, “Not at all.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” Erik protested, not wanting to hear her excuses.

“You’re forgetting, we both know what you’re thinking everyday.” Molock taunted, referring to his and Yzavela’s telepathic ability.

“What do you want?” I frowned, looking at Erik.

“Jonathan was looking for.” Erik uttered, “Something about orders that haven’t come in for their shop, I don’t know.” he shrugged.

“And you’re here telling me that why?” I stood.

“Because he was busy.” Erik snapped.

Both Molock and Anthony sat quietly, for the moment wasn’t theirs to interfere in.

“No, that’s not it.” I approached, “You wanted to come here, like you have done before these past months, trying to force a friendship upon me that was doomed from the start.” I huffed, folding my arms, “And I will tell you the same thing that I told you all those other god damn times, we are nothing more than acquaintances because you’ve made it clear that you want more than friendship which I can’t and won’t offer. Simple as that, and I’m done with all of it.”

“Of course you are, you’re shagging him now.” Erik gestured past her shoulder toward Anthony who stood, clenching his fists tightly.

“Yes Erik, I am and guess what?!” I approached, looking deeply into his gray eyes that I once found so captivating, “We’re married now.” I whispered telepathically, so Anthony couldn’t hear my declaration.

“M-married?” he complained, glancing between her and Anthony; his gray eyes scanned down at the man’s hand seeing a ring gracing his finger, “When did this happen?”

“That’s none of your business.” I argued, backing away, standing just a few inches away from Anthony, sensing his presence closely, and for the first time, I really got a good look at Erik. Despite his charm and handsome features, he lacked respect. He was rich boy, and he knew it. Whether or not he had intentions of putting me on his shelf of prized possessions and fancy toys, I didn’t want to know what his issue was, but I knew he wasn’t that cruel and staunch like Nathan, using women for fun before tossing them aside. However, he is what is, a temperamental and arrogant pureblood Englishman dressed in a five hundred dollar shirt.

“I think you should go.” Anthony suggested softly, and respectfully.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Erik ignored the Italian completely.

“I know you weren’t, but just the same, you should go.”

“I wasn’t…talking to you.” Erik leered toward Anthony.

“All right, you know what?” Molock proclaimed as he stood, “Just be gone.” he waved his right hand toward the young man that swiftly disappeared from his place atop the stairs, leaving both Anthony and Yzavela stumbling back from the swirling green fire.

“Wh-what did you do?” I turned to Molock.

“Relax, he’s still alive.” Molock muttered, “I sent him outside. Now, I think enough time has been wasted, is there anything you’d like to know? I do have plenty of time.” he hungered for time away from Hell and the company of others that didn’t mind his presence.

“I have a question.” Anthony added, turning to him.

“Yes?” Molock looked at him.

“Are you going to fight with us? Because if you could make just one pureblood vanish with the wave of a hand, then what else can you do out on the field?” Anthony finished, holding Yzavela close.

“Sadly, I cannot. Lucifer doesn’t allow me to interfere in such affairs of the Earthly realm, not unless it benefits him and Hell. I have one position and one alone, unfortunately and that is collecting souls and making deals, hence the title Death.” he held out his hands, “Once I collect my quota for the assignment, I am given free time but that is a rare thing, believe me. So…” he cleared his throat, “it’s moments like this for example where I get to talk to someone other than Lucifer and the other Demons in Hell, that I cherish because it helps me…” he paused, searching for the right words, “well, it’s comforting to say the least.” he grinned, looking around, “There are moments however, where I do sneak away that not even Lucifer knows about, or maybe he does, I don’t know.” he shrugged his broad shoulders.

“But what if he does find out that you’re here and not out there?” I wondered, “What would he do then?”

“And how much trouble would you get into?” Anthony finished.

“Trouble?” Molock cackled, “Oh, I’m in trouble all the time but he knows that without me, Hell would be lost. I guess you can say that I have helped him organize things in a more civilized manner, and like I said, I have my tricks and methods that I use to get out of things or situations so don’t worry about me. I have been around for over six thousand years and I am still here.” he adjusted his posture, seeming to fluff his metaphorical feathers.

“Can I ask something?” Anthony muttered, “What’s Lucifer like?” he wondered, and being a Catholic at heart, he was too curious.

“What’s Lucifer like?” Molock seemed stumped by the question for a moment, for no one was brave enough to ask such a question, and having to explain the ArchJinn in words, was difficult.

“Anthony, baby…” I held onto him, “I think you stumped a god.”

“I think so too.” he teased, looking down at her, then glanced back at the Sumerian that snapped quickly as if finding the answer, “Here we go.” he whispered in her ear.

“I have it.” Molock announced, “Lucifer’s definitely not at all, what mortals say he is according to your Catholic faith.” he looked deeply into Anthony’s dark eyes, “Or any other religion for that matter.” he took his seat once more on the love seat across the two curious lovers, “He’s not the monster with the tails, hooves or bat-like wings and all of that, although he does still have his angelic wings in his possession and they are glorious, sleek black feathers that are a little singed from Hell’s fires.” he grinned at them, “However, he is a Demon when he morphs but an elegant one with the wings and horns, but since this is Hell, considering the circumstances, it is his armor against all of the monstrous things you would find in that realm. There is another…” he huffed, leaning back against the love seat’s arched backing, “thing, or misconception, he DOES NOT believe in, or accept, the mortals same sex lifestyles of which I can agree with him on that, it is quite vile and goes against the natural biology and sexual attractions. Man was made for woman, and woman was made for man, there is just no in between or variation from that, their bodies are puzzles that are made to fit and that is that.” he paused, hearing both Anthony and Yzavela grunt softly, “Sorry.” he grinned, seeing their flushed faces, “But nonetheless, there is no variation.” he shivered at the thought, “Ugh…”

“Agreed.” Anthony nodded.

“Couldn’t agree more.” I added, “And what does Lucifer look like?”

“You wouldn’t be able to gaze upon him without losing your sanity.” Molock warned bluntly, “But…” he titled his head, “I guess you can say that he is truly the most beautiful angel, that’s the only fact in the books that is correct. At times, he is glorious and proud, then during other times, he is powerful and commanding, putting great fear into the Demons that attempt to get out of line, and isn’t afraid to snap his fingers and kill them.” he shrugged, “But of course too, since this is Hell, it’s all about repetition so they just come back, shake it off and go about their duties that were assigned. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, I would say, depending on the day and mood that he is in, but he is to be feared and respected nonetheless. Lucifer is…” and just before he had the chance to finish more, he felt a powerful energy fill the area, sending an eerie chill down his spine.

“What is that?” I felt a tickle raise the hairs on the back of my neck.

“What’s what?” Anthony wondered.

“That, believe it or not, is Lucifer’s summons which I am surprised to hear you are able to sense. Only I can feel it, but perhaps it is your demonic DNA that allows you to, and if I don’t leave now, he will open up the tear between this realm and Hell, and personally claim me.” he stood, hearing the ArchJinn’s voice summoning his name in a loud, powerful tone. Flinching from the unpleasant sting of a brand on his shoulder, he grunted, “I must go…” he quickly stepped aside.

“Thank you.” I stood, genuinely appreciating his time.

“No worries, Demoness.” Molock bowed then heard a deep growl, “I mean, Yzavela.” he respected Anthony’s boundaries, “It is always my pleasure.” he bowed, “And you?” he looked toward Anthony.

“Si?” he stood.

“You take great care of her, and whatever you do Italian, do not and I mean this, do not break her heart or trust because if you do…” the Sumerian warned telepathically, “I will make sure I come to claim your soul while you are living and believe me, that’s not pleasant.” he nodded, “She is precious.”

“I love her more than I ever thought I could love a woman, I would die for her.” Anthony answered, “But you have my word as not only a man that cares for her, but as her husband and partner.”

Squinting his dark eyes, Molock nodded.

“Be careful though, out there on the field during the war. Always be cautious of those around you.” the DemonJinn offered him a sincere warning. Grinning faintly, he backed away then spoke verbally, “I will be around, just call my name.” he looked at Yzavela, offering a brief bow as he vanished in a bright, swirling red flame.

Once his presence was gone, leaving behind the faint scent of sulfur, I stood in front of Anthony, placing my hands on my hips, tilting my head.

“What was that about?” I wondered softly, “Hmm?”

“What was what about?” Anthony placed his hands on her waist.

“Between you and Molock.” I slowly ran my hands up his chest, “It wasn’t for my ears I know that, but what it about?”

“A promise.” he leaned in, kissing her softly, then sat once more, “A promise to protect you, and one that I will keep until the day I die.”

“What is with you and death?” I sat in his lap sideways, “It’s all you keep talking about here and there, you need to stop it.” I worried.

“It doesn’t matter, my darling,.” he gently stroked her cheek, then he leaned in, kissing her neck and cheek, receiving faint giggles while his hands tickled her waist.

“Mm-hmm.” I squeaked then kissed him in return. After breaking the kiss, I leaned in, holding onto him tightly. It was perfect, and I was happy.

Drakuul, for weeks that turned into months, hadn’t been kind. Days after he received his enemy’s message, he ordered Matrx and all of the soldiers in the militia, both mortal and Shayd, that he wasn’t to be disturbed. For hours, days at a time, he wasted his breath trying to conjure larger numbers of the creatures he had previously called forth. Unaware of the reasons, he saved his breath and energy, reciting quite the amount of duplication spells, creating large numbers that he had hoped to originally conjure.

Matrx had an extreme dislike for magical practices, hating the level of responsibility that was bestowed upon him, controlling all of the creatures that the Necromancer had created, or conjured. Although, he knew that he could easily take out the Immortal, but then he’d be left with the creatures that would have no purpose. However, deep in his core, Matrx knew that Drakuul’s days were coming to an end, it would either be by his hand or another. Although, despite all of the tension, the tunnels that had been found were cleared out, stabilized for the militia to march through, including the Trolls and Zarooks. Matrx had them scanned into the systems, using several of the large Harpies that were strapped with GPS trackers, mapping the entire system of abandoned tunnels and subways that ran far beneath the Great City and further out. It wasn’t just that, the General received reports that there were many citizens that escaped the city for their safety, venturing toward other small towns and cities, including one, Penrith, that had been on their map for the longest time.

“What do you think we will find there, General?” one of the Shayds questioned, shifting in the backseat of the large truck.

“I don’t know, but there has to be something.” Matrx frowned, as he arched his back, feeling cramped in the front seat, “How long is this going to be?” he turned to the soldier driving, then glanced at the soldier sitting behind him, “How much further?”

“We’re two towns out, General. I would say maybe, three days.” he answered bluntly, showing the Frenchman the screen of his iPad, “I think we’re making good time.”

“Three days, right.” Matrx groaned in complaint, “Pull over, I need to take a leak.” he ordered gruffly, without caring about his verbal manners.

Once the truck was pulled over on the side of the road with others parking in a long line down the stretch leading to the Great City, the General quickly climbed out of the truck, stepping off the road, and sighed, relieving himself. Afterwards, wiping his hands on his thighs, he turned, stretching his legs and arching his back, watching as others smoked or shared drinks among each other. As he stared at the night sky, he took notice they had been driving all day since morning. He took in a deep breath, catching the freshness of the air that lacked the smoke and burning of flesh, unlike that of the Great City. Turning toward the city, he simply though of abandoning the army and his brother, starting somewhere new, but the though faded immediately, for he wondered what it was he would do? Becoming a fisherman in a quiet town with a dark past that would forever haunt him? Scoffing at the idea, he removed a stick of gum from his pocket, knowing that he wasn’t the type that could live that lief, he made his bed and he’d lay in it until the moment he died in battle, that was how he saw his death.

Clearing his throat, climbing back into the truck, the General ordered for everyone to round up and continue forward. Once they were all huddled back in the vehicles, Matrx glancing into the side mirror; he watched as the mortals and Shayds packed themselves into the trucks and tanks behind him.

“Let;s move.” he ordered the soldier in control of the wheel, “Go…”

“What do we do about this town, Penrith?” a solider wondered.

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be out here, now would we?” Matrx mocked, glancing over his shoulder, “But from what I’ve heard, it’s nothing more than a pass through place, but those that live there, might have information that we need about this island that our Lord is endlessly looking for.” he frowned, “Good enough answer for you, solider?”

“Yes, General.” the soldier sat back, chewing on his own gum.