Hellfire

Interval Twenty-Three

Death. Death is what drowned his city whenever Morrigan woke. Her hunger drove her to devour. Her obsession drove her to cull. Her soul of ice drove her to be cruel.

And there was no stopping it.

Gabriel never could, despite the control her had over her. Sometimes she'd listen to him, preferring to be in his company. Sometimes that malice was aimed at Lucius himself, determined to break him into being archon. But most of the time she roamed the city, plucking life from it.

This half-waking was no different.

Morrigan had attempted to kill Doc first, something Lucius shouldered furiously. Doc shouldn't have been there. Susan was grown and no longer in need of him, and yet Lucius allowed his fondness for the wulver to get the better of him. He knew Morrigan would wake and he knew it was to be soon, knew she would slaughter any beast in her home. Yet, he didn't order him away when Doc had said he'd rather stay, despite the dangers.

It nearly cost him his life.

The wave of death didn't stop at Doc though. She sought out the Whelans, as was her usual port of call. Thankfully, Nora and the pups had gone to the wind, leaving nothing behind but ruins and those loyal to Murray Whelan. And, when she found nothing but scraps, it hadn't surprised him that she'd aimed for Tabitha, a woman Morrigan had always disliked. Then the first slaughter came. Pointless killing to threaten Tabitha and prove her strength, nothing less. A show of malice.

And now his witch – his bride - was in her clutches.

Lucius stepped into existence and strode fluidly up the narrow road towards the grocery store. Demons coated it, chattering and hissing in the dark. Blood and death filled his lungs. Even asleep like this, Morrigan was too dangerous.

He ducked inside, ignoring the gore sticking to the carpet from the bodies left half eaten – limbs and scattered bones dressed in flesh. He ignored the death clinging to the air in here, the terror that suffocated it. He just focused on the one scent he knew like the back of his hand.

Susan.

Lucius came to a stop at the back of the store and everything in him just froze. Ice slid over his skin, tightening his muscles and spiralling whisps of hoarfrost in his wake. His gaze was fixed on Susan collapsed on the floor, her left arm severely broken, her right hand twisted free, and Morrigan's claw lazily scraped along her spine with a mindless motion, digging in deeper and deeper as she sang to herself.

Lucius nearly lost control then. He nearly flung every inch of his strength into a command for her heart to explode, but a wall faced him. Despite gathering it all, a vicious demand for her to die, he could do nothing with it. The blood command sang to him, soothing away the last step to just act, and filling him only with a need to protect. A need that didn't coincide with what his instincts were roaring; to protect his bride. To rip that thing that was hurting her to shreds.

Morrigan hesitated, blinking out of where she had chased Susan, and blearily looked at Lucius.

'Lucius.' She whispered and rose, striding towards him, the hem of her long once white nightdress sticking to the floor from the congealing blood. 'I don't like you handing my magic out.'

'I'm aware.' Lucius replied, his tone carefully calm.

'Yet you made her.'

He said nothing.

Morrigan eyed him then turned to Susan left crumpled on the floor. 'I'll return for her once she's pulled herself together. She's to prove herself to me yet.'

Then she glided away, snapping her teeth and whispering about bones, and the demons lifted into the air as they hunted for her once again. Her hunger was returning, an empty void that could never be filled. But right now, Lucius didn't care for what she was going to sink her teeth into. His focus was entirely on Susan.