“Follow me,” Adena said, turning and marching away.

Rodrigo jogged to catch up with her long strides, the others trailing close behind. “For the record, I had that malformed in the bag.”

“If by ‘in the bag’, you mean slightly more than a split-second from dying, like how I found you yesterday, sure.” She glanced at his tattered, bloody clothing and sighed. “I bet you’re grateful to have a demon’s regeneration, huh?”

“Believe it or not, a lot of this blood didn’t come from me.”

“I can tell. Even if it’s red, theirs tends to run darker than ours. You’d still be dead if you couldn’t heal.” As she spoke, her eyes were in constant motion, scanning the area for immediate danger. She was walking at a brisk pace, but her face was impassive. “By the way, who’s the girl? You didn’t have a girlfriend last time I checked.”

Rodrigo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like he was being accused of something. “Leila’s just an old friend...and how would you even know that? Did you bug my phone?”

“No. I implanted a microchip under your skin.” When Rodrigo patted himself down as if it’d be protruding from somewhere, Adena rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ve been tracking your phone. I’m not a savage. Anyway, you should have mentioned you were bringing her.”

“Sorry, that sort of slipped my mind while we were running for our lives.” It was only after Rodrigo said it, that it hit home. The whole time, people were rushing past them, being pursued by demons, but his group was being ignored. “What’s going on? It’s like we’re suddenly invisible.”

“Demons aren’t mindless zombies out to attack anyone they see,” Adena said. “They can sense that I have a Flair and that you’re an energumen. For now, they’re surrounded by easier prey, so most of them won’t bother us.”

As if her words had been a direct challenge to it, a lone diavolik with a sword and shield blocked their path. Dressed in a slimmer variation of the armor that the other diavoliks wore, this one had a female physique.

“Then again, there’re always the ones with more pride than sense seeking a battlefield promotion,” Adena said.

“Flair or not, you are still a mere human. Simply speaking in your shallow, archaic tongue disgusts me. What right do you have to be so pompous?” the diavolik demanded.

“Good question,” Resent said.

Several other demons were now taking an interest in the standoff, forgetting about the humans they had been chasing and joining the female diavolik. Rodrigo gripped the hilt of his sword. He knew Adena was strong, but the demons’ numbers were growing by the second, and soon they’d start creeping up behind them. Leila had her shotgun raised, for all the good it would do, standing in front of Raquel and Carlito protectively.

“Relax,” Adena said from beside him. Her gloved hands ignited, casting an orange glow over her pale face. “I’ll make this quick.”

“Oh, no,” the diavolik said, stepping back. Most of the demons appeared as confused as Rodrigo was. “I failed to recognize her without that accursed mask. She is one of them.”

“One of whom?” an imp asked in a shrill tone.

Through the slits of her helmet, the diavolik’s eyes narrowed. “One of the Blight.”

Blight. The uttered word rippled through the gathered demons, sending some bolting in the opposite direction of Rodrigo’s group. Others, like the female diavolik who instigated the confrontation, stomped off with their dignity intact, simply seeming cheated and disappointed. Adena kept moving like nothing had happened.

Before Rodrigo could ask for an explanation, Resent took control, as he was becoming disturbingly accustomed to doing since the invasion began, even in non-violent situations. “I’ve grown weary of speculating about what your connection to Hell is. Time to speak up.”

Adena halted and looked over her shoulder at him, aloof. “Not now. We’ll talk inside.”

“As you stated, the other demons have little interest in us without provocation. Either divulge what this Blight nonsense is about now, or we’re done here.”

“Are you nuts? If anything, she just proved being around her is one of the safest places to be,” Rodrigo said.

“And you have no qualms about this woman leading us around, despite demons fleeing at the sight of her?”

“She said we’d talk about it when we get there. Let it go for now.”

After a few more seconds, Resent returned control, and Adena turned, striding on.

As time passed, it was growing colder. Or maybe Rodrigo had been too worried about being killed before to notice. They continued on, unspeaking, as they crossed the long city blocks of 5th Avenue. Traffic lights were now irrelevant, as the cars still in use were speeding past regardless.

“We’re here,” Adena said, as she stopped in front of a tall wrought-iron gate. At the press of a button on a remote, the gate parted and swung inward. Beyond it was a massive Gothic mansion, wider than it was tall, and built from stone. The building’s inviting, large white windows were contradicted by the shut dark curtains inside. The slate roofs and spires gave the impression of a cathedral or castle from a bygone era. A cobblestone walkway was encircled by trimmed hedges, which were surrounded by grass, and led to a small, well-tended garden. Everyone was in awe at the regal presentation of the place as they followed her.

“I didn’t know private mansions like this even still existed in Manhattan,” Rodrigo said.

Adena unlocked one of the double front doors. “Besides Gracie Mansion, where the mayor lives, they’ve mostly been torn down or made into historic landmarks. My father had this place built from scratch.”

Waiting in the hall to greet them was a man wearing a red dress shirt and a black vest. “Good evening, all of you. Welcome back, Miss Adena.”

“Thank you.” Her voice softened ever so slightly as she addressed him. “Everyone, this is my butler, Stefan.”

Rodrigo found it odd that the man was so young. Mid-thirties at most. To some extent, years of TV and movies had brainwashed him into thinking butlers were all old and British.

Stefan went around collecting everyone’s coats and bags, not even flinching as he took Rodrigo’s gory gear. “Would anyone care for refreshments?”

At the mention of food, Resent was ranting away about his next meal, but with all Rodrigo had seen today, he doubted he’d be able to keep anything solid down. The others must have been on the same wavelength, because nearly everyone agreed on water.

“Coffee for me,” Adena said.

“I realize this may seem an absurd request with all that’s transpiring, but please do take your shoes off so you don’t track blood in,” Stefan said gingerly, eyeing Rodrigo in particular. Not sticking around to see if they would comply, he disappeared deeper into the mansion.

“Um...is getting comfortable really a great idea?” Leila asked. “I’m just saying, what if demons show up and we have to run for it?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Adena unlaced her combat boots and slipped out of them. “I didn’t bring you people here to grandstand. I have defenses in place. Look above the doors.”

They did as she said and saw a gold necklace with a gray, rhombus-shaped gem hanging from a nail. Rodrigo had the vague feeling he had seen one of those before. Maybe an item he had picked up on subconsciously in one of Resent’s memories.

“It’s a fade periapt, and what it does is make sure that the demons won’t sense anyone in this house. Since most of them are only here to slaughter, they won’t bother with an empty building,” Adena explained.

“How does that work?” Raquel asked.

“Usually it’s worn by demons for stealth, but by placing it in an enclosed area, anyone—”

“No, not that. This whole thing where they can sense stuff about people without seeing or hearing anything. I heard you talking to my brother about it earlier, but I still don’t get it.”

Rodrigo was glad she asked because he was hazy on it, too, yet if it had been him, Resent would have bitten his head off.

“One sense that’s as common for demons as sight is for us is to feel life energy, like an internal radar,” Adena said. “For example, if they were approaching this house and that amulet wasn’t there, they’d know how many people were in here, and that Rodrigo and I are different from the rest of you. Basically, hiding from or sneaking up on a demon isn’t easy.”

“But we have been able to hide from some of them,” Raquel said.

“Right now, with them not used to so many humans being around, most demons are probably having a sensory overload and finding it difficult to pinpoint people. But they’ll adapt to that soon.”

“That’s not good, but something you said before worries me more,” Carlito said, speaking for the first time since they met up with Adena. “You said ‘most’ won’t bother with an empty building. What about the ones that do?”

Then Adena did something unexpected. She smiled. It was thin and brief, but Rodrigo had at least noticed. “You’re sharp. I thought you had gone into shock, which I wouldn’t have blamed you for under the circumstances, but you’ve been paying attention. More than some, anyway.” She cast a withering glance at Leila, who had walked away at some point and was staring at a spot on the polished wooden wall.

“Y’know, just because I’m not huddled around you like you’re the quarterback, doesn’t mean I stopped listening.” Though Leila’s tone was mirthful, it made Rodrigo realize he, Raquel, and Carlito had crowded around Adena in a loose circle. She pointed at the wall in front of her. “I was just surprised seeing this. I wouldn’t have guessed that was your natural color.”

Unable to see what she was referring to from where he was, Rodrigo went to stand by Leila. It was a gold-framed oil painting of a family in formal attire, all with a severe shortage of melanin. A man smiling slyly, who looked to be in his late-twenties, stood with a hand resting on the right shoulder of a beaming boy, and the other on the left shoulder of a sullen Adena. Appearing to be about seven or eight in the portrait, same as her brother, she had been even paler at the time, seeming sickly compared to the rest of her family.

“Are they here? Are we gonna meet them?” Raquel asked, taking a keen interest in the boy. If Adena was anything to go by, he’d be an intimidatingly handsome young man by now.

“No,” Adena said with finality.

She led them through an arch and into the living room. Rodrigo could understand why Stefan didn’t want them mucking the place up. It would’ve been a shame to stain the black-and-white checkered marble floor. A grand fireplace was emitting heat to make the room cozy. The sectional sofa, leather loveseat across from it, and the various cushioned chairs provided plenty of places to sit. On the glass coffee table was a crystal ball filled with a white light so dazzling it actually hurt to look at.

After patting his clothes down to make sure the blood on them was dry, Rodrigo took a seat in the farthest chair from the off-putting orb. “Between this place and the Bloodstone, safe to say I underestimated you at ‘well-to-do.’”

Leila’s eyes bulged. “Wait. You own the Bloodstone Hotel?”

“My father purchased it along with a slew of other properties worldwide when he first came into his wealth. As you can tell, the man loathed subtlety. Never mind that, look there,” Adena said, pointing to the crystal ball. “To keep things simple, this prevents the average demon from getting too close to the house. The best part is they won’t even know they’re being repelled. It’ll be like they’re overcome with an ominous feeling, and they’ll move on.”

“That’s terrific. So that means you’re pretty much set here,” Leila said.

“Maybe if it wasn’t finite. The dimmer it gets, the less effective it becomes. Unfortunately, it won’t hold for more than another day with how many demons are roaming around. But we won’t be here by then. We’ll be leaving for a more secure location at daybreak.”

“The fade periapt is a rarity, but certainly obtainable in Hell. However, this foul orb...” Resent trailed off.

“Is it affecting you?”

“Of course not. Did you fail to hear her say ‘the average demon?’”

Rodrigo didn’t bother arguing because he knew Resent had to be putting up a front. He had been feeling dazed himself since entering the living room. Using his phone, he gave Jett another call. A recorded, emotionless female voice told him the number couldn’t be reached right now, suggesting nothing good. How long would it be before they saw a power outage and cell towers went dead, turning their phones into paperweights? Maybe he should’ve bought a couple of handheld radios at the mall.

“Let’s go get those drinks,” Adena said. “You all look dehydrated after that trek.”

She led them into the elegant dining hall. There must have been twenty high-backed chairs around the long, rectangular table. Adena sat at its head, with Rodrigo and Carlito to her left, and Raquel and Leila to her right. Stefan brought her a resin skull mug, almost whimsical for its solemn owner, filled to the stainless steel brim with black coffee. He poured the rest of them glasses of ice water from a pitcher, which he left on the table before leaving the room.

Adena took a swig of her steaming coffee without so much as a wince. “As for Resent’s earlier question, I’m sure by now you all know about how more than a few humans have either stumbled into or been taken to Hell.”

Resent took over, making Carlito shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“What are you doing now?” Rodrigo asked.

“To tell if she’s being truthful, it’s best if I meet her eyes when she tells her story.”

“Yeah. Resent said the demons use us as slaves,” Carlito said with a quaver in his voice.

“Personally, I don’t much care for enslaving you humans. Your frailty and short lifespans make you of little use to me,” Resent said.

“So why does it happen?”

“All you need do is review the history of your own species. You have few misgivings about enslaving one another as long as it benefits you with monetary gain. Why should it come as a shock that your superiors would treat you similarly?”

“Just because it’s happened in the past doesn’t make it right,” Carlito said, finding his nerve. “You could have set an example for the other demons.”

Resent scoffed. “Forgive me if I don’t heed a human child’s advice on governing Hell. Besides, my father harbored similar delusions about revolutionizing our world, chastising his fellow demons at every opportunity for their nature and traditions. Such sanctimonious thinking surely contributed to his demise. After all, someone must do the menial labor that not even the lowest of demons will.”

Adena huffed dismissively. “Fascinating a topic as this is, you two can debate on it on your own. My point lies with the humans that aren’t enslaved. The ones given a weapon and some armor and forced to fight demons in the arena with the incentive that, if they win, they’ll be sent home. Of course, with the tremendous gap in capability, even one-on-one, the average human never makes it out alive.”

“I’ve heard tell of a few lucky survivors,” Resent said, his interest in the subject waning as he scanned the area for Stefan.

“That’s just it. The majority of those exceptions barely pull through the fights and succumb to their wounds soon after. It’s rigged. But there are six people who shattered all expectations and ended up tearing the demons apart. A Blight on Hell itself.”

The reemergence of the word took Resent’s mind off his appetite. “Humble, aren’t you?”

Raquel raised her hand like she was in a classroom, but didn’t bother to wait to be called on. “So you were kidnapped by a demon like the one that tried to snatch me up?”

Adena paused and as she reached the bottom of her coffee mug, sighing deeply, Rodrigo could tell she wanted to withdraw from this conversation. Yet, she continued, “I inherited my Flair for fire from my father, but if one parent is normal, like I was told my mother was, it’s a coin flip. My twin brother, Flint, was born without a Flair, and the demons murdered him in that arena. The one who arranged it all? King Misery himself. In a blind rage, my father, who was nowhere near as strong as I am now, went after him. The stupid man never even made it past the royal guard.” Adena absently lifted her mug to her lips, then when she found no coffee, poured some water instead. “I’ve been planning Misery’s death since I was ten.”