Dirty Devil

Rebel vs. Royal

Aidens p.o.v.
"Raven will you please come here." I said as I scurried around the bar, collecting papers and bills. As I threw them into a folder, Raven poked her head in from the kitchen.

"What's up?" She spoke between licking chocolate off of her fingers.

"Something has come up.." I stopped and ran my fingers through my hair, sighing loudly. I closed my eyes and spoke slowly. "I talked to my dad. He said he needs me to come in immediately."

"Wait. What about the acoustic set? What if something happens?" She stepped out into the empty bar, wide eyed.

I opened my eyes and grabbed my cigarettes, sparking one up. As I shrugged I looked around the bar. It was now 10:30 am, the bustle outside of the bar made the world seem alive. But the moment you crossed the threshold to the Dirty Devil, it all died down. It was calming to think about.

"You'll have to do your best till I get there." I exhaled a cloud of smoke, leaning my elbows onto the counter. As I stared out of the large glass window, Raven appeared in front of me.

"Is it about the war?" She carefully asked, sliding on to one of the bar stools.

As I nodded I took a long drag off the cigarette. The war that was sure to bring the end of all of the liveliness right outside of these walls.

2 years ago a rebellion sprung up in the underworld. So sudden and undetected that it caught even the best of our men off guard. These rebellious hellions were spread out in masses among us all. The war started when these believers stood proudly against my own army, claiming they will take any half breed threat down. They wanted only the purest of evils. Denying even our leader, Lucifer. Any being that had anything to do with heaven was to be considered Royal, but to these rebels, Royals were nothing but stains on the name of evil. Royals were sacred before this out burst, cherished prizes of good now tainted by evil. Not to mention our King was once an Archangel.

Only the truly elite have ever laid eyes on our King. Which I guess gave way to this war. Had he shone his face, had he dished out his scornful wrath, this war would have not escalated past rants around a fire. But for some reason he stayed in the shadows. The only reason I still believe myself is because my father happens to be one of the few elite.

"It's big Raven. I have to go." I tapped my ashes into a shot glass on the bar. I pushed myself up and made my way to the staircase behind the bar.

"I will keep her safe Aiden." Raven said solemnly. I stopped and looked back at her, giving her one solid nod before making my way up to the apartment.

...

"Abaddon! You will not enter this meeting in this disgusting form!" My fathers voice boomed through his office, a small book room nestled in the middle of a large Victorian home. Located directly next to the royal palace. All in which was placed on top of a cliff over looking the rest of the underworld.

"It hasn't been a problem before." I mumbled as I walked away from his window, running a finger over the spines of some dusty books. "Plus you don't look like the almighty Beelzebub to me."

"I was speaking to a top sider. I haven't bothered to change back yet." He said in a gruff tone as he sat back in a large leather chair. As he sighed his body went from a average bearded man, to a soul shattering beast. A monster that would sure haunt any mans dreams.

"Also my name is Aiden." I flopped down in the chair in front of my fathers desk. As I swung my foot up to the edge of his desk, his large claw knocked it off.

"You are my daughter, I know what I named you. Here you are Abaddon, Overseer of Wrath. The most fearful Hell Hound there is to be. You should present yourself as such." He spoke as if his words were truly wise. I rolled my eyes as I willed myself to my secondary form. My skin went from a porcelain white to a charcoal black. My teeth sharpened into razors, my fingers growing into long glistening claws. My long black hair growing even longer and untamed, resembling a long dark mane. I blinked once at my father and stood up, slapping my hand on his desk.

"Let's get this over with please." I said, making my way to the doors.

"Abaddon, my dearest daughter, why do you think this meeting is so important?" My father said in a concerned voice, standing from his chair.

"Because this war is important." I said turning to look at him. "What else would make it important?"

"Our King would like to meet you."

...

I sat at the meeting table, tapping my claws against the arm of my chair. I looked around the table, each and every beast with their own deformities. Some with beaks and others with snouts. Wings of feathers and wings of bones and flesh. The more I thought about our guest of honor, the more furious I got.

It was visible to the rest of the group, as with the angrier I got, the more the ends of my flickered in flames. I met every beady set of eyes looking at me and sent a warning glare.

Before I could speak up, the doors in the back of the room swung open. Everyone around me respectfully stood at attention as the royal guard poured into the room. I kept my seat, covering my mouth as I watched the doorway carefully.

My eyes widened as a familiar face slipped from the shadows into the meeting room. His blond hair messy yet sexy. His piercing blue eyes seeming extravagantly bright compared to the dead fish eyes that filled the room.

With an absurd amount of grace he dismissed everyone to their seats. I leaned back in my chair resting my arm on the arm rest, carefully watching as he moved across the room. He wore a black double breasted suit which was lazily buttoned and rolled at the cuffs. His sharp jaw line was slightly darkened by the blond stubble and hair that was messy but still seemed tamed and professional.

I expected him to stop at the chair placed at the head of the table, but he walk with a graceful swagger around the table. I was so dazed as I studied his figure that I didn't noticed he had stopped till I got to his feet, which were stopped directly in front of me.

"And you must be Lady Abaddon." His cool, inviting voice drew my eyes back up to his. His thick accent rushing over me like a wave of realization. Luke Hemmings. I wouldn't have believed it if it hadn't been right there before my eyes.

"Your Majesty." I nodded once, not breaking eye contact.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He delicately swooped my hand up with his, bringing it to his lips, planting a polite kiss. His smile was dazzling as he slowly stood straight again. "I've beaconed you to this meeting to propose a deal. A deal that I am sure you will be pleased with."