Burning of the Beast

Chapter 4

Usually River would have ignored anyone telling him to meet them somewhere. But here he was, smoking a cigarette across the street from the shop the strange woman had specified. The small brick building had a closed sign in the window and the blinds were drawn down.
Oddly, the store sat without a name. The street was pretty dead but he guessed that was normal for off-season April. A light drizzle fell from the light storm clouds above.
He took one more long drag off the cigarette and walked across the road. Not bothering to knock, he pushed through the unlocked door. A bell jingled as it closed behind him.
One look around and he knew this was more than a shop. Bones lined the counters, animal organs sat in jars and herbs hung from the ceiling. No, this was no shop. The people who came here specifically sought her out for certain purposes.
"Back here, demon," the woman's voice called from a room in the back. She smiled as he walked in the room. "Gotta say, I'm surprised you actually showed up."
She sat, wrapping bundles of sage with string at a wooden table.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Got bored." And maybe he wanted to know what she had to say. He took a seat in the chair across from her. "You tell me to come here for a reason?"
JB nodded, her dreads swaying as she pointed to the corner of the room. "You ever deal with something like that?"
Eyes narrowing, he glanced to where she pointed behind him. A small black mass swirled and, for a moment, he felt a coldness. River eyed JB as the dark energy moved about the room, as if it were searching for something.
"They can't see you," she said surprised, her gaze following the thing. "It can't sense you at all."
"You have an infestation?"
"Yeah, it followed me from the woods. I've tried to get rid of it, but nothing seems to work." He didn't believe that one bit.
"This is what you wanted me over here for?"
JB shrugged. "What better way to get rid of the nasties than with a demon? Especially one with such a high ranking."
He gritted his teeth. "You have no idea who I am."
"Do I not, worthless one?"
Heat crept up his neck and the fire began to swirl in his veins.
"Am I mistaken, Belial?"
His fingers tingled and began to sizzle. With one lithe hand, he reached out and grabbed the dark energy as it swizzled past him. The thing let out a shriek, twisting and struggling about in his grip as it flaked away to embers.
"Satisfied?" He kicked the pile of ash on the floor and dusted his hands.
"Almost." JB smirked. "I've done my research on you and your . . . brothers."
Research huh? It sounded more like she'd been investigating him and he was on trial for murder.
"And?"
"In my studies, I noticed that you and archangel Michael . . . you two don't get along too well."
"Don't," his voice became rougher and demonic sounding, like he swallowed a handful of nails and gravel.
She nodded with a sad smile. "Is he a separate entity? Or does he live within you too?"
He stood so fast he knocked the chair back. "I think that's enough. You got a free job out of me. You're not getting free answers too." Especially when the answers could damn him.
"I was only curious."
"Trust me, curiosity kills."
Turning on his heel, he didn't bother picking up the chair as he headed for the door.
"Oh and, River?"
Shoulders tensed, he paused in the archway but didn't look back.
"Be easy with her. Don't let your rage get the best of you. I can tell it often does."
He cut his eyes and left the woman's shop. A large part of him wanted to burn it down. All the way. In fact, he'd set the whole town ablaze. Get rid of the parasites here like an infection. And then he'd head over to Ray's and give her the hottest last kiss of her life. Literally.
He caught sight of his face in an empty shop window and stopped walking.
The puckered scars on his face glowed like hot coals. One eye already blazing red.
Goddammit. Usually, he contained it well but everything was suddenly bubbling to the surface. The rage, the hate, the fire. He had no more jobs and now his demon wanted to light up everything.
Especially her. And no, the demon didn't care if she was the mother of his kid. He'd still tie her to the pyre and watch it burn. Eagerly.
"Not yet," his father's voice said to the right of him.
River's gaze snapped to where the man leaned against the brick building, dressed in jeans and a black button-up. "What do you mean?"
"Before you end the bitch, I need this fixed." Lucifer pointed to his damaged face. "And then you can do whatever you want to her. Kill her, fuck her, marry her, live whatever fantasy is rolling around in your brain-I don't care. But I do want my face fixed."
River snorted. "Pff, if she can do it."
The witch was weak.
"I happen to have a pretty damn good feeling she can."

Sunlight poured in through the skylight above as Rayanne stared in her bathroom mirror. Black circles lined her eyes and her skin seemed so ashen pale. Casper had more color than her. And her wet hair hung lifelessly around her face. She looked like she belonged in a hospital, a hospice or an asylum. At this point, she'd welcome both.
Towel in hand, Ray dried her hair as she walked out the bathroom and into her bedroom. She went to her dresser and fumbled around, looking for a hair tie. Her small wooden jewelry box caught her eye and she paused.
She sighed.
It was in there. A small thing, but a thing all the same.
She reached over, opened the box, and grabbed the ring. Memories flashed through her head, feeling more like a dream than a reality. She even remembered the feel of him sliding the cool gold over her finger for the first time. Those insanely silver eyes smiling down at her.
River.
The red garnet ring twinkled in the light and—for an honest moment—she could have sworn it glowed.
When she woke up alone in the hospital bed, she'd been gripping it in the palm of her hand. She wiped the tear off her cheek and threw the ring back in the box and shut the lid. And with the twist of her heel, she spun around and smashed face first into a solid chest.
"Goddammit." She stumbled backed into her dresser.
"I heard my name." Rain drenched, River's black shirt and jeans clung to his form. A wet strand of black hair hung in his face. Well, not really his face, but his mask.
"I didn't say your damn name."
"But you thought it."
With a roll of her eyes, she sidestepped him but his arm caught her around the waist.
"What's in the box?" He dragged her back to the dresser.
"Nothing."
Roughly, he opened the wooden jewelry box and plucked out the golden ring. As soon as he saw it, his whole body went rigid against her.
"Like I said, it's nothing," she muttered.
Looking up at him, she noticed his jawline morph and the burn scars reappear. Guess it did have a mild affect on him. Just the tiniest bit of hope sprung to life in her chest.
And then he looked directly into the mirror. Rage came flooding back to his face and he let go of her in an instant, a hint of red appearing in his silver eyes. In a quick move, he chucked it out her open window.
Her breath caught in her throat as a whimper left her. Tears sprung to her eyes as her heart settled in her throat.
"Meant nothing, right?" he asked sarcastically as he stormed from the room.

* * *

"Fucking bitch," River slammed the door behind him as he stepped onto the back porch. The crisp air of the day was a startling difference compared to the fire within him.

It's nothing. He scoffed, repeating what she'd said.

She was right—it meant nothing now. And it'd stay that way. She should have pawned it while she had the chance.

But she hadn't. She had kept it.

Her words from that morning ran through his head. Maybe she had loved him then. And maybe at one point, a part of him—the smallest piece of his being—might have loved her too. That part was dead now though. Gone with everything else he had.

It wasn't like he ever said it out loud anyways. And honestly, he couldn't remember if he ever looked at her and thought it.

You did, a voice muttered from the depths of his mind.

He cut his eyes. Shut up.

His chest burned with the bitter truth, a sour pill to swallow.

And now my ring's gone, the voice responded again.

A growl of frustration left him. I'll get a new one.

That was my ring. The demon in his head continued on. My ring.

And there were plenty more he could acquire. He wasn't wasting his time looking for a piece of jewelry that held no sentimental value to him whatsoever.

You know what that ring means.

A dead look settled on River's face, his jaw tight, his temple pulsing. A small pang hit his chest, and he blinked back the sheen of water that crept into his eyes.

It wasn't often that he gave a piece of himself to someone. In fact, it only happened once and—yeah, when he gave her the ring, he didn't fully explain to her what it meant. In her mortal eyes, she probably saw it as an engagement ring. But it was far more than that. Crafted by only the most adept of dark sorcerers from gold stolen from the meanest of red dragons, he bound himself to that ring.

He bound himself to her.

In every universe, through all spaces and time, and each world hereafter. He belonged to her.