The demon lord, Darkyn, circled the shape-shifting demon, looking for any signs its true nature hadn’t been completely screened by the combination of its own skill and the injections. Demons that could take on the forms of whatever human they pleased were rare, and Darkyn had hand-selected the one before him for this mission. Impressed, he stood back and motioned the cowering Immortal in the corner forward. The Immortal scientist, Ully, crept towards them, the chains around his feet rattling with each step.
“The transformation is complete?” Darkyn asked.
“Yes,” came the hushed answer.
“Certainly looks convincing. I see why Andre recruited you. And the immunity blood?”
“It’ll render him near-invincible for several days.”
“Define severalfor my demon.”
“Four, maybe five. He can test for it by cutting himself. When he no longer heals instantly, the shots are wearing off,” Ully explained.
“And there is nothing hidden in these injections that will alert your kind?” Darkyn asked again.
Ully shook his head and looked down. “It’ll work like it should.”
“You’re a smart creature, Ully. If I suspect you’ve betrayed me, I’ll turn my new super-demons on your Immortals. Four days is long enough to wipe all of them out.”
“Except Rhyn,” Ully whispered.
“Rhyn,” Darkyn dwelled on the name of the half-breed. “He’s about to lead my demons to the underworld. With the Immortals in disarray and Death’s … mistake, I can own the underworld before Rhyn can control his power enough to stop me.”
“He won’t do it,” Ully whispered. “He won’t betray his brothers.”
“The Immortal side of him is weak. He’ll do whatever it takes to get his mate back, and I intend to plant the idea in his head.” Darkyn turned his attention to the shapeshifter. “You will kill any demon or Immortal in your path. They must believe you are who we made you to be. Understood?” Darkyn ordered.
“Yes, my lord,” the shapeshifter answered.
“You are to find your way to the underworld. When you are there, you will plant this in the ground.” He handed the demon a small pouch that contained the concentrated magic of Hell. One pouch wasn’t enough to break through Death’s weakened barriers, but three would. “Your name is Gabriel. You will find the death-dealer you resemble and assume his place until the sign is given in the sky for you to attack.”