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Son of Strife [Demonic Urban Fantasy]
Chapter 30 – My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 30 – My Brother’s Keeper

Seeing the raw panic in Rodrigo’s eyes, Jezebeth forced the corners of Carlito’s mouth upward in a twisted grin. She swayed forward, pressing Carlito’s throat slightly into the blade of Adena’s scythe, drawing a thin line of blood. “Clever of you, Dena. But I think you misjudged just how badly bro over there wants this boy to live. I left that girl’s body halfway through for a reason, after all. A cute face and all those curves paled in comparison to brotherly love.”

Leila’s eyes went wide with sudden realization, and she staggered back, dropping her pistol in the snow. She stared down at her trembling hands with shame and revulsion. “Bianca’s death...you made me...”

“Yes, underestimation is one on a long list of many of our young Blight’s recent failings.” The voice came from a few meters beyond the crater. There, readjusting his crown as he skirted the ruined chunk of land, was Misery. His face was covered in soot and his long cape had burned to tatters, but he was otherwise unscathed.

“I knew the obstinate bastard wouldn’t die so easily, but I assumed he was at least injured,” Resent said.

“How?” Adena asked, pulling her scythe away from Jezebeth. “I waited for the perfect moment and put everything I had into that. I don’t care how dense that armor of yours is. The flesh should have melted from your bones.”

“Had I not come suspecting your disloyalty, I may have had cause for concern,” Misery said, shaking his head in slow disgust. “You thought yourself so cunning, yet in reality every move you made was obvious to the point of being insulting. Disposing of the additional demons I sent to observe the boy. Burning his house to rubble so that I was forced to rely on you for information. And of course, refusing to check in and provide said information. Is it any wonder I had Jezebeth investigate?”

“If you had me figured out, then why give back Leech?”

“I returned your precious scythe as a show of good faith. One final chance to redeem yourself. And as expected, you turned around and lashed out at me. Like father, like daughter.”

That must have hit a sore spot, because even with her exhaustion, Adena mustered the strength to rush at him. Misery seized her by the throat, mid-run, with such force that she lost her grip on her scythe. He lifted her a foot off the ground so that she was at his eye level. “Is that what this is? You blame me for Lucas’ ineptitude? What a bitter disappointment you are.”

Coated in his emerald electricity, Jett bolted forward, going for a sliding tackle. But as the soles of Jett’s feet collided with Misery’s greaves, the king didn’t even sway. He looked down at Jett, a living embodiment of crackling electricity that looked more demonic than he did, with only mild interest. Then he slammed Adena to the ground. The wet thud of her body crunching against the powder to form a broken snow angel could be heard even through the storm, and her short-lived scream of pain made Rodrigo flinch.

“I have heard little of you. I wonder, is it because you are so insignificant that you escaped Jezebeth’s limited attention, or did Adena intend for you to be a sort of secret weapon?” Misery asked, making a grab for Jett.

Jett swerved out of his reach, dragging Adena’s limp body back along with him by her jacket’s fur collar. He was careful not to touch her skin and shock her. “Dunno, don’t care. The only thing I want out of you is an answer. Why choose now to ruin the life of every person on this planet, when until yesterday, barely anyone could prove your kind existed? How can you justify tearing so many families apart?”

Being a question that weighed heavily on his own mind, Rodrigo was glad that Jett voiced it and was impressed he had the composure to do so mid-combat. Somehow, whenever he himself entered a fight with a demon, the why ceased to matter.

Misery slashed at Jett, but he was too quick. He was literally running circles around the king, searching for a gap in his armor below the neck. And that predictable pattern was his mistake. Misery stuck his sword out low, as if to cut Jett off at the legs. He hopped over the outstretched blade with ease, and right into the back of Misery’s other gauntlet-covered fist. Despite his protective layer of electricity, Jett’s velocity worked against him as his right arm was crushed inward. He cried out and crashed into the snow, his electricity dying down.

“That is a question for your comrade Resent,” Misery said as he glared down at Jett, fighting to stay conscious.

Ever since Adena told them that Misery knew about Resent’s return, Rodrigo had a feeling that it was part of the motivation behind the invasion. He just never thought it’d be the driving force. How many millions of people were now dead because of the feud between these two royal pains in the asses?

Rodrigo took a step forward to help, but Jezebeth wagged Carlito’s index finger at him. “Uh-uh-uh.” A razor-sharp dagger she must have stolen from Adena’s supplies was poised to slit Carlito’s throat. “You stay right there. The first sign of the nebulae, or a single hair on that pretty little head of yours spiking up, and this boy becomes meat for the hounds.”

Rodrigo was gripping the hilt of his sword so hard, he was convinced it would break off in his hand. Even before Resent or the nebulae, he had never felt so helpless. He was entirely at the mercy of this perversion of his brother, sneering at him with the certainty of someone who knew exactly where Rodrigo’s priorities lied. He had to smother his temper as it flared to dangerous new heights.

“Leila, take the car and get out of here,” Rodrigo said, trying to keep his tone even. He could hear the clank of Misery’s armor as he trudged through the snow, getting closer by the second. But Rodrigo’s eyes were glued to Carlito’s face. Just what was going on in there? Was Carlito watching, a prisoner in his own body, as Jezebeth leveraged him against them, or was he not even aware of what was happening? “Leila, you heard?”

“I killed her,” Leila murmured from behind him.

“Huh?” Rodrigo snapped.

“With a fork...I, no, that demon made me do it. We were eating cheesecake in our hotel room and once the screaming started...oh my god. It was with my own hands...I stabbed Bianca so many times. But I didn’t want to. I swear I didn’t,” Leila rambled.

“I don’t care,” Rodrigo muttered, the leash on his fury fraying by the second.

“W-what?” Leila asked, his brutal honesty bringing her back to the here and now.

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Had her voice always been so grating, or was the pounding in his head inflaming everything else? “Bianca’s dead! How she died doesn’t matter! Now get the hell out of here before you get yourself and my sister killed, you stupid—”

“Calm down and stop looking at him,” Resent said.

Rodrigo forced himself to take a breath and pulled his gaze from the enemy hiding in his brother’s skin. Once he saw Leila’s shuddering face, her eyes bleary and tear-soaked, he felt like an unbelievable prick. There were a lot of people to blame for what was happening. She wasn’t one of them. “Leila, I’m sorry. Just, please, go back to the car. Save yourself and Raquel.”

Carlito’s body, the knife still not a centimeter away from his throat, flit past Rodrigo before he could react. Leila put the mask back on, vanishing from view again, and her pistol had been scooped out of the snow, too. Was she going to shoot Carlito? Kill him to kill Jezebeth for the way the demon had manipulated her? Would that even stop her, or would she just jump into the next body, like Resent had?

No. This couldn’t happen. No matter what, Rodrigo wouldn’t let it. He had his hobbies, but he never had any real passions or aspirations in his life. Protecting Raquel and Carlito was it. Watching them grow and learn and live. That was the basis of his existence. He’d slaughter anyone who tried to take that from him.

Rodrigo sheathed his sword and moved forward. Jezebeth stiffened, her grip on the knife tightening. She watched with a flicker of amusement as he walked past her and stood protectively in front of Carlito’s body, glancing around at the empty air. “Leila. I get it, okay? A demon comes into your body, uses you as their puppet, and does things you never would have imagined. K-kills people at the drop of a hat. If anyone understands that infuriating feeling of powerlessness, it’s me. And as much trouble as Resent’s been, there’s no doubt you had it ten times worse. But killing my brother? That’s not going to solve anything.”

“See, this is why I love you, bro,” Carlito said in his own voice. Rodrigo spun, hoping against common sense that Jezebeth had somehow been exorcised. As he did, a knife whizzed past his face, swishing through the air. “Always so predictable.”

Leila let out a soft moan as she stared down at the knife lodged in the middle of her chest with a peculiar mix of astonishment and relief. She fell back into the snow, her blood staining the orange fabric of her coat as the life started to leave her body.

Jezebeth clicked Carlito’s tongue. “Pity. I was aiming for her heart.”

In a fit of madness, Rodrigo wrapped his hands around Carlito’s neck. “I’ll kill you!”

“Do it,” Jezebeth purred, Carlito’s eyes shifting from green to that all too familiar demonic red. She was dropping all pretense, trying to goad him into murdering his own brother, and loving every second of it. As Rodrigo’s grip loosened, his arms falling impotently to his sides, Jezebeth wheezed a laugh. “Of course not. You see, I was downright studious when it came to this brat and the girl’s memories of you. I now know you better than anyone alive. And the big brother I know would let everyone else die before—”

Jezebeth coughed roughly, covering Carlito’s mouth with his hand. When she pulled the hand back, it was smeared with blood.

“Problem?” Misery asked from mere meters away. Rodrigo had forgotten all about the king and had stopped listening for his lumbering gait.

“The brat...f-fighting back,” Jezebeth said through clenched teeth.

“I won’t let you use me like this!” Carlito screamed as he momentarily wrenched control from Jezebeth. “Get out of my head and stop hurting everyone!”

“Fight it, Carlito. You got this!” Rodrigo yelled, forcing optimism into his voice.

“No! Don’t encourage him,” Resent said.

“What are you—” Rodrigo’s heart threatened to give out on him as he saw the veins throbbing all over Carlito’s face, blood trickling out of the corners of his eyes, his nostrils, mouth, and ears. This wasn’t anything like his and Resent’s mental tug of war. Holding Jezebeth back could be the death of Carlito.

Rodrigo turned to Misery and slumped to his knees, doing away with any sense of pride as he bowed his head into the snow. “Tell her to get out of Carlito’s body and I’ll do anything you want. Please, sir. He’s the most innocent person here.” His voice cracked as warm tears streaked his frozen cheeks. “Please, he’s my baby brother. Please, your majesty.”

The king regarded him for a moment, his lips in an oddly genuine smile that made Rodrigo think his begging had paid off. “No.”

Rodrigo shot up and bound Carlito’s arms together with the nebulae. “Carlito, it’s okay. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you. You can stop fighting her.”

“It’s too late,” Resent said, in almost a whisper. “His sensory faculties are already failing.”

Rodrigo’s mind was running a million miles a minute, scrambling for something, anything, to stop this waking nightmare. “Go into his body.”

“What?” Resent asked.

“Possession! You’re the prince, aren’t you? The rightful king? So go into his body and push that psycho bitch the hell out!” If Resent could pull that off, then Carlito should be able to regenerate the—

Carlito staggered forward and fell against Rodrigo’s shoulder, his small body wracked by breathless sobs and convulsions. The blood was now oozing out of every visible orifice. “Bro, are you there? I’m so scared. I can’t see you.”

Rodrigo wrapped his arms around him so tightly, he might be hurting him, but he just needed his brother to know he was with him. That he loved him more than anything or anyone in this world. “I’m right here, Carlito. It’s going to be okay. Your big bro will handle this, like always.” “RESENT, DO SOMETHING, YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!”

“I-It’s not that simple.” Resent sounded anxious, and never more than this moment did Rodrigo wish the prince was standing right in front of him, so he could beat the life out of him.

“Bro. I don’t know if you’re there...but I love you. And Raquel. And Mom. And Jett. And...” Carlito’s mouth continued to move, but his words became too quiet to decipher.

Rodrigo fought to breathe, his heart jack-hammering inside him as Carlito grew stiller in his arms. “Okay, okay, okay. Jezebeth, what do you want, huh? Anything you want, anything, and I’ll get it for you. You say you know me so well? Then you know my word’s worth something.”

Using his chin, Carlito weakly pushed his body away from Rodrigo so he could look up at him. Jezebeth’s red eyes were there, but they didn’t focus on his. She was as blind and deaf as Carlito. And yet, as if she could sense his desperation. As if she could hear his silent prayers to any deities willing to listen, she began choking with high-pitched laughter.

The sound rang through Rodrigo’s skull, until her eyes faded back to Carlito’s light green, which stayed open even after the rest of him went completely still.