Ava Galliano: The Last Dark Queen

Ten Years Later

"How hard is it to find one goddamn demon?" Zuki growled, pacing the dimly lit office with irritation bubbling in his chest.

"We've been trying, my lord," a trembling demon replied, bowing low. "But demons... we aren’t always aligned with her timeline."

Zuki's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "This shouldn’t be that hard. Just hunt down all the demons named Kingston. That's all I’m asking for." His voice dropped to a menacing tone, causing the room to feel colder, the air heavy with unspoken threats.

Zuki inhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. The demon he was searching for had to be out there somewhere. But the longer it took, the more frustrated he became. It seemed like he was the only one capable of getting things done around here anymore. He dragged his hand through his hair and slumped forward, elbows on the desk, the weight of his duties pressing down on him like a thousand tons of stone.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts. It was enough to snap him back to the present.

"Enter," Zuki said, his voice sharp with impatience.

The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside, carrying an air of quiet authority. Zuki's eyes snapped open in surprise. It was Kingston. The very demon he’d been desperately seeking. For a moment, Zuki wasn’t sure whether to shout in relief or drag the boy across the room by his throat.

"A seer said that you needed to see me urgently, my lord," Kingston said, his tone steady, but there was a flicker of uncertainty behind his eyes. He had an impressive calmness about him for someone so young.

"Come in, my child," Zuki replied, trying to conceal the relief in his voice. "Sit with me." He waved a hand toward a nearby chair, the momentary tension in his body giving way to curiosity. "As for the rest of you..." Zuki cast a cold glance at the other demons in the room, his voice turning threatening. "Scatter. Before I dismember every last one of you where you stand."

The room emptied in seconds, the remaining demons fleeing in fear of Zuki’s wrath. Kingston, unfazed, took a seat as Zuki motioned for him to do so.

"Am I in trouble, my lord?" Kingston asked, his voice laced with the slightest touch of unease, though he hid it well.

Zuki studied him for a moment, his gaze flicking over the boy’s confident posture. "No, nothing like that. I just want to know where you’ve been for the last ten years."

Kingston blinked, surprised by the question, but he quickly recovered. "I work on Level Three, my lord."

Zuki snorted, blowing air through his nostrils. "Level Three... Level Three?" He slumped back in his chair, eyes narrowing as the weight of his own oversight hit him like a hammer. Hell had so many layers, so many places to search, and yet he’d never even thought to look there. Was he so consumed by the vision, by the need to follow it, that he couldn’t even think straight anymore?

"Do you live here, then?" Zuki asked, his voice low, almost as if he were talking to himself.

Kingston hesitated, then nodded. "Occasionally. I’m still too young for the Demon Academy, but I have a little sister in the Third Kingdom, so I return home often."

Zuki blinked in surprise. "A sister? That’s... good to hear." He sat forward again, eyes sharp as he focused on Kingston. "But tell me, Kingston— Do you know why you are sitting before me? Are you sure you haven’t done anything wrong?"

Kingston stiffened at the question, his brow furrowing, but Zuki could see the flicker of anxiety behind his eyes. "No, my lord. I’ve been on my best behavior. But... what is this about?"

Zuki smiled, though it was a cold, calculating expression. "No, nothing like that, my child. I have a task for you." His smile broadened slightly as he leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I need you to relocate."

Kingston raised an eyebrow. "Relocate? To where?"

"Not to the Third Kingdom. No. But to Hell. You will start in Level Seven. I’ll have an office prepared for you there. And your first assignment..." Zuki paused, letting the tension build, his eyes narrowing as he assessed Kingston. "Your first task is to find something... something I would be interested in."

Kingston’s expression didn’t falter, though a small glimmer of intrigue danced behind his eyes. "At once, my lord."

The young demon rose, giving Zuki a respectful bow, before turning to leave. His smooth, confident steps echoed as he exited the room, but Zuki stayed seated, his mind already racing with the implications of this sudden turn of events. Kingston was no ordinary demon, of that Zuki was certain. He came from a long line of ancient demons—one of the first families to emerge from the depths of Hell. Kingston wasn’t just intelligent; he was a product of untold wealth and power, something he made no effort to hide. He could be useful, Zuki thought, even if he was an arrogant, self-assured snob.

Half an hour later, the door creaked open again, and Kingston strolled back into the room, a file in hand. Zuki’s eyes narrowed in surprise. He hadn’t expected him to return so soon, let alone with something.

"What have you got for me?" Zuki asked, his voice laced with curiosity, even as he tried to hide the growing excitement in his chest.

Kingston handed over the file, his lips curling into a small, confident smile. "Soul ache," he said, his tone almost smug. "And the family was denied a new soul. They’ve been begging for one for months, but their request was denied."

Zuki’s lips twitched into a grin. "Excellent," he murmured, flipping open the file to glance over the details. "Let’s travel upstairs. I’ll speak with this family personally and arrange for a low-level soul to be delivered."

Kingston nodded once and, without another word, left the room, eager to carry out the task Zuki had set before him. Zuki leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking over the information in front of him. He had a feeling Kingston would be more than just useful. The boy was showing potential, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

For the first time in a long while, Zuki felt like things were finally starting to fall into place.

@@@

The Telfast house stood eerily silent when they arrived. Zuki, always one for theatrics, had opted for a portal that took them straight into the living room without so much as a warning to the poor family. He could have followed procedure—proper, lawful visits and all that—but where was the fun in that? Charles, the High King of Light, had a special, simmering hatred for him, and Zuki found it infinitely amusing to slip in under his nose, taking every opportunity to get in Charles’ way. A calculated risk, of course, but a risk Zuki was more than willing to take.

He paced back and forth, the soft echo of his footsteps on the marble floor filling the otherwise still room. After about half an hour, he had nearly worn a hole into the living room floor with his restless agitation. Just as he was about to open his mouth and curse his luck, he heard the unmistakable sound of a door unlocking.

Zuki quickly straightened, making himself comfortable in the armchair, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Slowly, cautiously, the Telfast family entered, their soft murmurs growing louder as they realized the stranger in their home. Mrs. Telfast’s face twisted with shock, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the unfamiliar man seated in their living room.

"Who are you, and how did you get into this house?" she demanded, her voice high-pitched, almost shrill.

Zuki raised an eyebrow, mildly amused by her alarm, but Kingston, ever the dutiful servant, stepped forward quickly.

"My lord, your appearance is too human," Kingston said, his voice calm, almost apologetic. "The demons haven't seen you in this form for almost three thousand years."

Zuki’s smile faltered for just a moment. He had almost forgotten how long it had been since he'd last ventured onto the human plane in such a form. "Ah, yes, my apologies for the rudeness," he muttered, standing and brushing invisible dust from his attire. "It seems I've forgotten how to properly greet demons on the human plane."

Kingston nodded slightly. "Lord Zuki requests an audience with the Telfast family. We apologize for the inconvenience. Do you accept?"

Zuki watched the family closely, a dark amusement dancing in his eyes. They looked confused, shaken, but Zuki could see the signs of desperation in their posture. It wasn’t long before they bowed, almost in unison.

"Of course, my Lord. Our house is open to you," Mr. Telfast said, his voice trembling but polite.

Zuki gave a curt nod. "Ah, yes. Thank you. Sit."

He gestured to the couch, watching Brent, who limped toward it. Zuki’s sharp gaze noted the ashen color draining from Brent's face, his pallor indicating a much deeper sickness than simple fatigue. The boy didn't have long left if the symptoms were as bad as they seemed.

Zuki reclined in his chair once more, eyes flicking over the family. "What can I help you with, my lord?" Mr. Telfast asked, attempting to mask his anxiety with a façade of politeness.

Zuki’s gaze sharpened. "Why were you denied a new soul?"

Mrs. Telfast’s shoulders tensed. "The council did not believe our son was suffering from Soul Ache. The tests came back negative, but we know it's not just the demon flu."

Zuki’s eyes darkened. "Why didn't you request one from Hell?"

"The council… the council put a stop to that a long time ago, my lord."

Zuki’s eyes flashed with a flicker of realization. He had forgotten just how tightly the council controlled such matters. "I'm a few timelines behind. My apologies for the oversight." He paused for a moment, then looked at the family with an assessing gaze. "Do you mind if I see it for myself?"

Brent nodded slowly, his eyes betraying the pain he had been trying to hide. Zuki pushed himself to his feet, his movements smooth and deliberate as he approached the sickly boy.

Zuki’s voice was calm, almost soothing as he crouched down in front of Brent. "I'm going to touch your soul, my child. It may hurt, but I will make it as quick as I can."

There was a barely perceptible nod from Brent, but the pain in his eyes was evident. Without another word, Zuki extended his hand and pressed it gently into Brent’s chest, his fingers sinking through the boy’s body. Brent winced, but he didn't pull away. Zuki felt the boy’s soul—the once vibrant essence now twisted and rotten, more decayed than any soul he had ever encountered.

With a practiced hand, Zuki pulled the foul soul out, almost dropping it in surprise. The stench of corruption was nearly unbearable. He stared at it for a moment, a slight grimace crossing his face. "This one is beyond saving," he murmured. Motioning to Kingston, he handed him the soul case. "Switch it out with the low-level one."

Kingston, swift and precise, did as ordered, and Zuki pushed the new soul into Brent’s body. As the new essence began to integrate, he watched closely as Brent’s face regained a faint hint of color. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Still, Zuki knew this was only a temporary fix.

"He will need a stronger soul," Zuki said, his tone grave. "Is there anyone in your family you would recommend?"

Mrs. Telfast blinked, her expression a mixture of confusion and fear. "Is that possible?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Zuki's gaze was cold, unwavering. "Yes. But it will cost you."

"We will pay you any amount of money," Mr. Telfast offered, desperation creeping into his voice.

Zuki chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "I am the King of Hell," he said with quiet finality. "I do not need your money."

There was a pause, and then Zuki leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. "Once this transfer happens, High King Charles will pay you a visit. Before that happens, however, you must put in a request for adoption. A vampire, preferably."

The Telfasts exchanged bewildered glances, their confusion deepening.

"He will make you take in a daughter. Call her an orphan. You will raise her as your own," Zuki continued, his voice cold as ice.

Mr. Telfast opened his mouth to speak, but Zuki silenced him with a raised hand. "Is that all?" Zuki asked, almost as if he were bored with the whole exchange.

"Yes," Zuki replied. "Now, which soul would you like for your son?"

Mrs. Telfast looked torn, still reeling from the enormity of the decision. "What... what do you suggest, my lord?"

Zuki’s eyes darkened. "A soul from the first tier would be best. Strong. Healthy. It will give him the time he needs to recover, but remember, the cost is not just monetary. The council will see this—" His eyes flickered to Brent, now seeming a little stronger but still far from healthy. "They will see this as a debt to be repaid. And nothing in Hell is free."

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the soft sound of the Telfasts' anxious breaths. Zuki waited, knowing they would make their decision. After all, what choice did they really have?