A/N: Alright, so beings the second book of the series begun by Lux Perpetua Luceat. A lot of you have already read this chapter, but I'd like to have everything out there anyway. All suggestions are highly appreciated!

Libera Me Inferno

(Chapter I: Sola Lingua Bona Est Lingua Mortua)

- Free me from hell.

. I .

Teeming dark clouds enveloped the sky, whistling winds surging against the smaller airplane sailing through them. Turbulence rocked the cabin’s occupants, but for the most part, did not disturb them. Lilith clung to her seat anxiously, gripping the armrests with remarkable strength; she’d felt the plastic molding give way some time ago. Each time the jet rocked, the redhead would yip and send more of the cushy filling lining the inside of the seat afloat. The passengers in front of her were most definitely fed up with her antics by now. Their hair and shoulders were coated with fluff and they would snuffle indignantly at regular intervals.

She tried to relax back into her destroyed seat for the thousandth time that night and found it impossible once again. The set of vampires murmured spiteful things to each other as more puffs of static inducing annoyance fluttered off their persons. It’s not my fault I can’t relax! Lilith tried to seethe but panicked when she saw a flash of lightning go off through her tightly clamped eyelids. She assumed the worst immediately: WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE! What the hell was I thinking when I agreed to this?! IhateplanesIhateplanes- OH DEAR LORD I HATE PLANES!

The rough patch passed and it became faintly lighter. The fledgling continued to shred anything that she grappled for blindly. Another flash succeeded the previous, this time accompanied with an audible “click”. Lilith cautiously eased one eye open to find Kemosiri and Kazuki snapping very ridiculous pictures of each other and themselves. The rest in the compartment were eyeing her with curiosity and pity every now and then. She felt herself flush stupidly, hiding the side of her face that was in view to the aisle. “…never been…before- one, heh.” She squeaked lamely, muttering incoherently more to herself than anyone else.

Thwarted by camwhores! Lilith groaned internally, secretly tossing bitter glances at the posing duo while no one was watching. I seriously can’t believe I went through with this. Even though it had been her goal right from the beginning, actually leaving and defying Cain was much more frightening than liberating. The initial fear that he would materialize by her side was not as strong as it had been eight hours before. As far as she could tell, he most certainly knew. The tail of the blackened hurricane like storm visible on the other side of the horizon was moving awfully fast. Luckily, it had been the barest outreaches of it that brushed them instead of drawing them in, like the devouring depths of a whirlpool.

“At least he’s looking in the wrong direction,” she murmured quietly, eyes softening to a powder blue.

Morning was coming; she could feel it.

.I.

Her heels clicked in a frenzy against the weathered stone. Each step felt like an eternity, no matter how swiftly she clacked up the imposing staircase. The blurred, colourful crowd has passed out of sight some time ago. She could still hear their jumbled sluggish tumble of mixed voices vibrate through the magnificently carved hollow. Her pace became more harried and feverish as she dashed to keep up with Jun. He did not seem worried in the slightest, in fact he was as composed as ever, smoothly passing by the multitude of guards posted at the entrance to Enoch.

Lilith nearly shrieked when she saw them, but was distracted when she realized how far the Dark Master had gotten ahead of her with her momentary lapse. She ran after him, casting fearful eyes over her shoulder every now and then. Whomever they passed did not seem to care or even notice who she was. It had to be some sort of spell, for the notion that she was unrecognizable to those that were meant to hold her was ludicrous.

Stifling a terrified sob, the girl hoped and prayed with every fiber of her being that Cain would not find out what she was attempting to do. Her heart felt like it would burst from stress at any given moment. She had to force her legs forward and away through the labyrinthine stone ruins.

There was no time to marvel at how beautiful they were, for any time wasted would surely be the end of her endeavor to escape the only true Hell she’d known in her short lifetime. She could act if the vampire king did catch her red-handed, but her hysteria would give her away, no doubt.

And then he would make her Hell infinitely worse.

They reached the edge of the forest, leaving behind the vampiric capitol. Lilith wasn’t sure how long or far they sprinted through the immense and sprawling throws of chaotic greenery but eventually the thickets gave way to asphalt and suddenly- thankfully there was a road- glorious, benevolent savior of a road. The fledgling almost fell to her knees to kiss and worship it. Her feelings overflowed and she cried happily at the prospect of something human, some semblance of normalcy.

Jun was completely disgusted at her intimate display of weakness. He delivered a swift kick to her gut and pulled her up by her messy hair. Lilith heaved for the breath knocked out of her and focused on him, not wanting him to take back his offer.

“I will send you back to him if you continue your obnoxious spluttering.” He spat disdainfully, answering her frantic thought.

Lilith shook her head forcefully despite the fist tugging painfully at her scalp.

“Then I bid you be silent and if a miracle comes to pass, graceful.” Jun snipped coldly, shoving her backwards. One of his entourage caught her and none too gently had her in the back of a limousine in a second. Startled, the redhead took in her surroundings, running her hand over the slick black upholstery. The rumble of the engine caught her attention, and soon they were moving.

Lilith slid over to the nearest window and tried to peer through the dark tinting. There appeared to be several more limos in a procession, hers leading the rest. Dubious accomplishment flooded through her and she slumped down, part of the adrenaline dying off. Although it shouldn’t be, she thought. There’s still a lot more to come…

Feeling quite drained, the fledgling laid her head back, resting on the cool plush leather. She let her eyes close, soothed by the gentle humming of the car ride.

The peace was over all too soon.

Just as she had begun to fall asleep, she was yanked out of the car, stumbling to recover her balance in the sea of hands tugging her back and forth. It took a moment to understand that they were systematically stripping her of the overly formal garments and clothing her in more suitable, modern attire. Lilith was flabbergasted and didn’t know if it was appropriate to fight at a time like this.

She caught a glimpse of Jun’s searing violet stare and decided ‘no’. It was disheartening to think that she might be on an even shorter leash now, but that was not what the ancient vampire had promised her, was it?

“I promised you nothing.” He whispered into her ear with virulent conviction, deadly hand locked around her wrist.

“I thought you weren’t like him,” Lilith hissed, feeling distrust and panic encroaching. A part of her wanted to call desperately for Cain. She would rather deal with the old horror than the new.

“I am not.” Jun replied simply, twisting his hair up into a hard knot behind his head and donning a black and white striped bandana to hide it. No matter how well he tried to disguise his age by appearing to be what his physical body looked like, it slithered through menacingly.

“So why-“ she struggled as one of the vampires pulled her arms into a tight-fitting hoodie. “Is this how you treat your Queen?” the fledgling snapped, trying to sound imperious to gain some higher ground. The vampire faltered then, clearly torn between following his master’s and the young monarch’s orders.

“Silence.” The Dark Master glowered at her and it seemed to be more effective than an actual blow. “Do not exploit a title you do not wish to have…!” he exhaled harshly, lips futilely curling to try and hide his fangs, expressed in irritation.

Lilith said nothing, turning her head away from him, refusing to feel guilty. Yes, it was childish and bratty, this she knew. She supposed that despite the abuse, Cain had given her everything material that she had wanted- except my freedom; can it even go under that category? The vampire king had given her his mostly undivided attention, good and bad. This male was not so keen to do that. God, that blonde psycho fucked me up this much already! I’m the one who needs a goddamn psychiatrist now!

The girl felt her head snap up on its own accord when the tempting scent of humans tickled her thirst. She could hear their hearts beating enthusiastically in their chests, singing a choir of “take me, I’m yours!”

“Where are we?” Lilith asked, dazed and heady.

“Airport.” The vampiress closest to her answered tersely.

“I want…” she trailed off, eyeing the mortals bustling back and forth hungrily.

“No.” Jun stated firmly, taking her hand in his, keeping his talons pressed threateningly along the veins in her wrist.

This brought her back to herself. Having lethal poison pumped directly into one’s bloodstream was probably one of the things best not experienced in life. The redhead nodded at him, visage solemn, and was not entirely surprised when he still did not let go.

The wait to board the jet was excruciatingly painful. First for having to tamp down the roiling thirst greedily striking out at anything that walked past possessing a heartbeat, and second, for being exceedingly long, not to mention boring. Jun stayed with Lilith the whole time, wordless threat still held rigidly to her inner arm. He did not mind waiting. The fledgling surmised that Cain had yet to discover she had vanished. She decided it would be best to not think about how he would react when he found out.

It was not long after that that they were safely in the air and Lilith had come to terms with how much she hated the flying experience. The sensation was so nauseating, her hunger went away completely and when she did end up feeding a few hours later, it was extremely unfortunate that a storm had mysteriously blown in. Her nerves frayed to the point where it became near impossible to not start screaming hysterically and trying to beat and throw herself out of the metal body encasing her.

During an attempt to partially stop the maniacal telepathic proclamations of imminent death and to mostly keep the left wall intact, Jun had been forced to restrain the redhead since he was the only one who tolerated her fatal blue magic well enough to keep alive and relatively healthy. It was also during this attempt that Lilith vomited on him, prompting the Dark Master to disappear for the rest of the flight in a flurry of horrible feline-like screeching.

After the incident, she thought that she would be just as pissed off if someone did the same thing to her, so really, she couldn’t blame him too much. Too much. The problem then was, that, everyone else would not talk to her, clearly out of fear because Kazuki and Kemosiri had continued to suppress laughter for the better part of another hour and a half and gave her thumbs up when they thought no one else was looking. In complete embarrassment, Lilith suspected it would take a long time to be forgiven, if at all.

It was three (episode-free) hours later, nearing the last stretch, when the first angry gust slammed into the plane. A demented cry unlike any other echoed maliciously through the cramped cabin, forcing all the vampires and even a few humans to claw madly at their ears, screaming in protest. The lot of them had absolutely no idea what to make of it, but Lilith knew immediately.

It was him! If she put all her power into listening to the howl and deciphering it, she could hear her name. Her name being wailed over and over again by tireless, unrelenting lungs, propelled to the furthest reaches of the earth. Mountains shook in fear, avalanches loosened their unstoppable fury, volcanoes erupted in agony, and the earth sang a song of mutual destruction.

Elsewhere, this madness began a devastating domino effect.

.I.

Constantinus idly turned his attention away from the vampire lasciviously pressing into him. He listened, rapt, to the booming tenor growing louder and louder as it swept across the sky and for a second, a monstrous storm raged outside his windows, only to dissipate in mere minutes.

The silver-haired beauty crooned in absolute amusement, deftly sliding an ivory leg over the shuddering Xander’s shoulder. “Stop listening to that drivel,” he lazily advised the quavering pair of vampires and his yammering homunculus.

Amelia wheedled at a window in curiosity, pawing at it like a trapped animal. “What- what was that?” she licked her lips, eyes huge and excited.

“The beginning of everything.” Constantinus laughed throatily, letting more of his pristine white robes fall open. “Now come to me.” he beckoned to her with a gloved hand, fingers coiling in a sexual gesture.

“Holy men should not look like whores,” Amelia chirped matter-of-factly, pouncing back onto the bed. The statement sent him into another peal of musical laughter. She crawled over the tangle of limbs to settle herself overtop the chuckling pope. His erection brushed up against her shapely ass.

“I am neither, silly girl.” He purred, devious hands gliding over her voluptuous chest to her shoulders to follow the arching lines in her back. The woman followed his direction and breathed a pleased sigh when she took him in. She leant back, using the male behind her to achieve better leverage. His cock felt good inside her. It always did.

Move.

So they did, grinding together until they had found a workable rhythm, mewling and keening in contentment. The forgotten voyeurs attended to each other in slight disappointment, only spurred on when Constantinus fixed his gaze on their lewd movements.

He watched in almost-boredom, contemplating the little heir that had made him happier than he ever had been in both of his lives. “Dearest Lilith, just like Sodom and Gomorrah, don’t look back…” His eyes flashed back to the darkening window panes. “I have high hopes for you,” Constantinus inhaled sharply, thoughts gone astray, satisfied when his body finally responded to the decadent ministrations his servants were performing on him.

“Ahh, good,”, he hissed through clenched teeth, all at once remembering icy Trastevere and his vigilant companions at the Santa Maria. He would have to visit them before chaos left him too hectic to keep those small luxuries.

I will not forget where I came from. I will not forget what brought me to this point.

As they thrust in tandem to the throbbing carnal lust humming in the air, Constantinus threw his head back with a soft moan and tuned his mind to the deranged buzzing of the factions. Nothing but that horrendous wailing could be heard from Enoch and that made sense enough.

Dorian was confident and smug, highly anticipating the executing of their plan. In Hell he could hear the Fallen and the demons screeching and riled right up into a tizzy. They didn’t understand what was happening, but the surges of malevolent power were enough to incite their joyous wrath.

To Heaven he filtered confusion among worry and disgust. They were restless. Constantinus could not make out the complexity of the emotions radiating from Him. The vampire blocked out the odium boiling in his soul. It would do him no good.

Lucretia and her werepeople kept up their silent stead, waiting and watching. Hardly interesting at all.

The Priory of Sion was in an uproar. Both of their commanders were missing in action and the Grand Master was at a loss. Something had happened to the Spear of Destiny. It had involved Abel. He could not glean much more from their haphazard, concealed minds. They scrambled to find the last piece of the Trinity.

Constantinus huffed out a shaky laugh as his cohorts writhed exquisitely about him. The Order getting hold of the third piece was impossible, for he gripped it tightly in his palm. A husky groan was wrenched from his lips. Ah- goddamn, he hated making noise! Amelia and Xander must have realized that they had one up on him and renewed their conjoined effort to tear more of the delicious sounds from their master.

“Insolent!” he gasped, sinuous body jerking like a whip. His concentration was shattered as he viewed them; Xander was supporting Amelia’s thick thighs so she was opened wholly. Her heavy breasts bounced with each enthused motion and her nails dug deeper gouges in the man’s already roughly reddened shoulders. Her hot sex clutched around him as she climaxed, whining his consecrated title amorously.

He could have held back, but he was no longer in the mood for teasing. Constantinus humored them and let go inside of his servant, crying out every licentious phrase he could think of. As his orgasm died down, he felt the sticky wetness between his legs and knew that he wouldn’t be leaving any of his gracious pets wanting tonight.

“Nn, very nice.” The pope commented, as his soldier and personal assistant clambered off him to remove the stained garments.

Amelia returned to his side as soon as she had completed her task. “Master,” she cooed, downy bosom pressed flush to his side.

The silvery vampire made a noncommittal noise and began to stroke her silken curls, eliciting a happy “murr” sound. His thoughts drifted back to the Trinity piece. Constantinus took it by his thumb and forefinger, studying the bejeweled fragment. The first was kept by their stone mother deep within the mazes and vaults of the Priory, untouchable as it had been for long centuries. The second had always been in his hands for as long as his family line existed. The third was worn ‘round the neck of the stupid blue-haired mortal unknowingly.

Constantinus vowed to find him before anyone or anything else revealed its precious value again.

.I.

The distinct feelings of deep cold and sinking were bright beacons in his memory. Sparse droplets of rain splashed onto his face, cascading over the angles of his cheeks and chin like wayward tears. A cool hand touched his bare chest, traced the skin around the fragment of an ornate broken cross, not daring to touch the object itself. Icy breath ghosted over his face.

Francesco opened his eyes.

The light stung. No matter how he shifted or squinted, it felt like his eye sockets had been filled to the brim with raw salt. Hearing was a distant reminiscence; the only faint sounds filtering through his damaged ears were gurgling and low rumbles. His mouth was exceptionally dry and tasted like grit and stale blood. It was so goddamn cold. Numb limbs and a brain only half working. Why can’t you bastards just give up and let me die?

Francesco groaned audibly and rolled over onto his side, becoming defensive when his half-conscious mind registered another being skittering away from him. He wanted to believe it was someone he could trust, someone taking care of him, but his instincts were battle-sharpened and knew better. Blindly, the Knight grasped for the fragment chained around his neck.

Please, I beg you, don’t! If Francesco had of been able to speak, he would have told it to fuck itself.

“S-sanctus Matris to…o-order…” the cross clenched tightly in his palm began to warm. He was weak, so weak, and nearly unable to utter the exorcising words.

Please! I saved you, you can’t- the bodiless voice cut off, garbled wounded noises taking its place. The icy wind began to pick up.

“Sanctus Matris to order vos…evanui!” he gasped, the heat from the blessed object spreading through his body, healing energy simultaneously flowing with it.

No- and if smoky sanguine had a scent, then this would be it, for the lighting fire that caught in Francesco’s nose was none other than a vampire burning from the inside out. His bluish lips, which had yet to regain their colour, curved into a savage grin. He could hear the wails now, his water-clogged ears draining unnaturally fast. I’m going to kill you, he laughed at the other.

The response was half coherent begging.

“Not…good…enough,” the blue-haired Knight coughed hoarsely. “Sanctus Matris to order vos evanui!” The shrieking increased hundred fold in pitch and volume, almost shattering his newly restored eardrums. The Holy Mother commands you- commands you to-

“SHUT UP!” He roared over the gruesome screams. The spell was instantly broken right along with his concentration. Francesco reached back blindly, scrambling fingers finding purchase on what felt like a small boulder. He heaved himself up against it, letting his head loll back, unfocused eyes trying to ascertain where he was.

It was still cold, freezing drips of water spattering onto his bare skin at even intervals. Painful goosebumps raised along his flesh. Thunder was still echoing menacingly, low and subdued somewhere far in the distance. Blurry grey clouds coated the sky.

Was it still the same day? If not, how many had come to pass?

Vampires out on a cloudy day weren’t uncommon; it wasn't like the sun devastated them entirely, especially if they were old. Francesco tried to zero in on the one to his left; it was obviously a male, curled up and gripping at its injuries. Quite surprisingly, he didn’t appear to be in that bad a condition. Small patches of burns singed his clothing, the muscle and tissue underneath presumably affected in the same fashion. However, that appeared to be all; it did not look like he was suffering any great deal.

‘Guess I didn’t put enough into it.

The vampire looked up at him, harried. “This is the reward I get for saving you?” he glared at the Knight with cypress green eyes, attempting to look extremely put out.

Francesco huffed, trying to regulate his erratic breathing. “It just so happens that Templar aren’t usually rescued by hellspawn.” He rolled his eyes, injecting a fair amount of sarcasm into his statement. He also realized that he was wearing absolutely nothing. “What- what the fuck happened to my clothes and armor?” the blue-haired man asked in disbelief.

“Vampires aren’t technically hellspawn,” the other man grumbled in a pissed off manner. “So you don’t remember drowning?” he uncurled himself, revealing a scarred cheek. He rubbed it, distraught and much inconvenienced. “Thank you mortal, great thanks for that!” the vampire hissed, fixing a narrow-eyed glower on the human.

“Like I said, not very many Knights get saved by fucking demons!” Subconsciously, he grabbed the cross again, desiring nothing more than to blast the annoying vampire into oblivion.

“I am not a demon! I am Paris Alexandrus!” the vampire, now known as Paris, got to his feet and stamped childishly with every word he stressed.

“Great ta’ hear, but that don’t help my situation much.” Francesco winced as he pulled himself up to sit on the rock.

“Son of Priam, King of Troy? Killer of Achilles? Favored by Aphrodite?” Paris swept his arms out, arching a dark eyebrow, clearly hoping for a grand remembrance.

“Never heard of ya’.” The Knight rested his forehead in a palm, watching the vampire’s spectacle with a very unimpressed air.

“It appears I am not in the presence of a scholar then.” The legendary Trojan crossed his arms, looking out towards the sea. What in the Gods’ names had he been thinking? This man was a Templar and one who siphoned power directly from his god no less! Not more than a few days after his awakening and he was already getting into unwanted trouble. And that horrible creature the mortal had been stupid enough to battle! “Why did you even bother?” Paris shook his head, recalling the clash between the shadows and the holy light. That mysterious power had come from the broken cross, without the Knight calling on it or evoking it in any way.

“It’s what I do,” Francesco said severely. “The Priory of Sion isn’t gonna keep its observe and recon stance anymore. It’s full-out war now, buddy; and as a warrior and a commander I have to keep my men safe and neutralize any high risk targets. That guy’s gonna take a just a little bit more work, I think.” He smirked cynically, fixing the vampire with a sardonic stare.

“Protecting your countrymen and your kingdom is nothing you would know about,” Hektor would have spat at him. “Bringing that damned woman here; Aphrodite must truly love you to have kept Menelaus from slaying you.”

I would agree with you now brother, if I had seen her true face then, I never would have claimed to love that accursed witch. I would have sent her back to Sparta and let Menelaus suffer the consequences of wedding Hades’ daughter.

…I should have let him kill me that day.

We’ll meet again, brother, when Atropos feels fit to cut my thread. Wait for me on the other side of the river, my brother.

“Can I have my clothes back now? How long was I out?” the blue-haired man snapped in irritation, throwing a stone at the contemplative vampire. It bounced off of Paris’ head with a defined ‘thunk!’

“What’s left of them,” Paris made a gesture at a sad looking pile behind them. He slipped back into his melancholy reverie, as if the rock had never hit him. "About two days, I believe."

Francesco stood and shakily made his way over to the unpromising fate of what had befallen his armor. He picked through the mismatched pieces of scrap metal and found what used to be a pair of perfectly good pants. The seam on one leg was ripped up to the thigh and the waistband appeared utterly destroyed. Sighing, he pulled on the garment only to find that he would most likely be arrested for public nudity unless he found some sort of belt.

The Knight was about to ask Paris if he had one, but upon studying him closer, noticed that the vampire was dressed just as raggedly as he. “What happened to you?” he scoffed, both eyebrows rising in amusement, as he tore the bottom hem of the long robe that would have gone underneath his mangled armor.

Paris glared at him. “If you must know, I am new to this…strange world and did not have the luxury of raiment until you and your comrades kindly sliced up those rogues.”

“You don’t seem ticked off about that,” Francesco quipped idly as he made a makeshift belt out of his old uniform. He tugged what remained of it over his head. “I look like a hobo priest,” he scowled in disgust after giving himself a once over.

“Why should I care about a group of fools whom I don’t know,” Paris muttered, drawing in the sand with a stick. His depiction of what he thought to be a homeless priest was quite well done.

“Cut that shit out,” Francesco stamped on the miniature sand version of himself, earning a disgruntled look from his savior. “And whatta’ ya’ mean by ‘strange’? Modern? You some kinda ancient?”

“In a way, yes. I have aged thousands of years no doubt, but I slept immediately after I became a Nightwalker.” Paris shrugged and rose, dusting the sand off of him. He walked until his bare feet were being washed with the small white caps of the tide. The shredded fabric around his ankles became wet when a particularly high wave seized the shore.

“There’s gotta be a story behind that,” the human knelt down and took up the discarded stick.

“One that I wish had never transpired,” Paris hissed bitterly. “I was foolish enough to fall in love with a manipulative harlot.”

“Sounds like ya’ just described all women ta’ me.” Francesco snickered. “Let me guess, hot lady seduces you, hot lady turns out to be a vampire bitch, and you become vampire bitch’s cabana boy?”

“At the cost of thousands of Trojans’ lives and my father’s kingdom, yes. Now I would slaughter her if ever given the chance.” Paris clenched his fists and kicked at the water.

“She got a name? I might be able ta’ help ya’, for a price of course.” The blue-haired man grinned.

“I would give anything.” The once-Grecian prince said with ruthless conviction.

“So her name, or what?”

“Helen.” Paris bit out, spitting the word like venom from his lips.

“Wait, like Helen of Troy?”

“Ah, splendid! How long did that take you?” he clapped his hands together in mock joy.

“Douchebag.”

“Why are you here?” Paris ignored what he believed to be an insult. “I have told you my story, now you must tell me yours. I have seen no others of your priesthood.”

Francesco laughed. “I think you know how all that went down. And we’re an Order, not a priesthood.” He tacked on with ire.

“So you have no reason dallying here?” the vampire countered, pushing his wind ruffled curls out of his face.

Instead of answering, Francesco shot back, “Why are you? I thought you were Sumerian or some dumb shit.”

“Greek.” Paris seethed. “I threw myself into the ocean. It must have brought me here during my long years of slumber.”

“Wow, you even managed to fail at suicide, good job!”

“Silence!” he snarled, calling up great columns of water. “Or I’ll put you back where I found you.”

“Alright, alright!” Francesco complained, holding up his hand in defeat. “If you really hafta’ know, water boy, I’m trying to stop the apocalypse from coming.”

Quiet. A long and awkward quiet.

“What?”

“Since you’ve been out of it for so long, lemme take the liberty to explain. Your pals think it would be a great idea to bring on the Final Rebellion, get God and his asshole of a son, Lucifer, into the war to end all wars. The final battle, the Apocalypse, Armageddon, Judgment Day, to the victor go the spoils, the whole enchilada, you get me? I know of more than a few vamps who have a personal vendetta against the big guy in the sky, so it’s like Christmas came early for them.

“To do this, they need to resurrect the Antichrist, their goddess, the Whore of Babylon. The World was shit enough with her in it before, like we fuckin’ need her coming back.” The Knight snorted.

“For this, the vampy Empire, traitors or otherwise, needs two people with God and the Devil’s blood in them, first generation-wise, meaning if any of those bastards manage to open a gateway to Hell, we’re all screwed because they already have themselves a girl who’s met all of their standards. She was who the Priory was supposed to be making sure didn’t go and get her ass kidnapped by their king. Which happened by the way.

“So now humanity’s only chance is pretty much gone unless we make sure she can’t give birth to Lucifer’s son’s brats. It can be done, but the shit will hit the fan if any of the Fallen get through into our realm. There is nothing we humans can do to put seals on to keep them away and I’m sure good ol’ Luci would be just peachy keen to put off his great war again, even though the majority of his old followers want to kick his ass.

“In summary, we, not you, are fucked.” Francesco continued his sand masterpiece cheerily as if it was not a dire issue.

Paris gaped open mouthed at the horizon, for his back was still to the human. This was what his kind had been doing for the past four thousand years? Surely they had to realize how insane it was! If- no when their hellish war was over, what would be left of their World?

He came to his own conclusion.

“The only good language is a dead language.” Paris said stoically with a faraway look in his eyes.

“And which one would that be?” the blue-haired Knight humored him, leaning back on the balls of his feet, abandoning his crude artwork.

“Peace.”

The Knight was briefly stunned. The magnitude of the truth behind it was unreal, therefore, only he could ruin such a fragile moment. “That has to be the wisest thing I’ve ever head you say.”

Paris whipped his neck in furious distaste. “Filthy cur!”

“No, you!”

It was a rocky beginning, but nonetheless the beginning of a lucrative alliance.

. I .

A/N: Bwahaha, C’s take on sexing is so apathetic. I was hoping to do Franny, Cain, and more Jun/Lilith time in this chapter but realized that would have been way too much happening at once, like whoa. Well at least y’all have an idea how much shit Cain is flipping currently.