Of Love, Daemons, and a Frenchman...

Max's part

Gravelam's face paled even more with the threat on his life.  He stood weakly as his stoic face melted at the pain of losing his love.  However, his pain did not compare to that of the bearer of Halo.

The other man's face revealed nothing, but his settle movements of his armored hands revealed the emotions his face could not portray. The hands shook violently in white-hot fury. His violet eyes hardened as they slowly came to rest on the Frenchman. Refusing to speak; his lips fell into a frown. The look was enough for the Frenchman to know that Sage's pose was one of an unnamed threat.

Murder.

The young man turned away from the group heading towards the woods. The dark woods offered what his friends could not; shelter for his broken heart and from the falling rain.

The warlords let Gravelam go by shoving him away. Cale did not turn his eyes to anything but heaven-ward.  The rain fell in a mistakenly reverent manner, soft like the meager dripping of tears.  The remaining armor bearers fell silent as thunder crackled on the horizon.

Kayura broke the silence, her voice holding a defeated timbre, "We don't have much time."

Rowen looked at her, his face grief-stricken but his eyes were calculating the situation.  "For what?"

Kayura bowed her head, "For disaster to be released…" she muttered. Straightening her shoulders she headed to the house. Suddenly she paused and looked back to the group with questioning eyes. "What was Mia's wish?"

~*~*~*~*~

They say that eyes are windows to the soul.  If that was true, then one could tell how well Mia was off.

Lifeless.

Her emerald green eyes faded in vitality, adding to her goddess-like exterior.

Her expression was blank, one that beheld no emotion and of lost hope. The sides of were soul were fused together into one terrified package. All she saw was black as she treaded on the freezing unseen floor.

She looked down at her bare feet as a chill went up her spine. No wonder she was cold, walking on cold ground with bare feet was not exactly warm.

Wait, she looked up and then back to her feet.

"Hello," she shouted, only to be answered by her echoes.

"Somebody? Anybody?"

"Myself," another voice spoke from behind her as a jeweled, sharp-nailed hand clamped onto her barely-clad shoulder.  "My Lady," Belford spoke as tenderly as a demon was able, "why do you shout so?"

Mia stood there, transfixed by a voice that encompassed her, seduced her…

Seduced?

She had been seduced.  But I live with five guys; there is no way in Hell, that I could be seduced.

"Beloved," the arm on her shoulder wrapped around her neck as the other snaked around her waist.  "This is Hell."

She gasped as the arms tightened, pulling her back to her captor.

She screamed.

~*~*~*~*~

Belford winced as he retracted from his captive's mind.  The ageless demon hated the screams of women; the decibel-level hurt his sensitive ears.  He lowered his arms back to his velvet-clad sides before walking away from her.  "I command you to follow me, my beloved."  His voice was soft, belaying the deception that he had caused. 

The daemon was very much aware that another held her affection, but he held her body; her mind would eventually catch up.  To be quite honest, which for him was hardy a first; he did not pity her at all.  Years he had waited for her to open the box, to do something. He had expected and schemed over the moment she would awaken him. The only thing he did not take into account was Gravelam.

When he got his hands on that mortal, heads will roll.  Not exactly heads, more or less a head will roll. After which Belford would become Mia's key.  So to be even more honest or just downright awful … he loved it.

*TBC...sorry so short*