Bailien stood on Woodside’s bank, seething. The pain in his stomach was ebbing fast and healing. Feeding would complete the convalescence.
He watched the bridge crumble into the river. Steel shrieked and masonry rumbled. Vehicles, unfortunate enough to be crossing at that moment, plunged into the water and sank along with stone and debris. The bridge’s electrified cables sizzled and sparked when they met the river.
He’d barley managed to escape in time, just before the bridge had started to crumble. Even if he’d went down with it, he would have still been able to surface from the river. But without his wings, it would have taken him quite some time. He would’ve had to walk along the river’s bottom until he found something to scale, or make his way to the shore.
Bailien was free from Astor. He was free from Lucien. For now. Raguel had killed Lucien, his stolen body at least. The former demon lord would return to his body, albeit an imprisoned one that was held captive in Hell.
He thought about Raguel, the demon who avoided Hell. Demon? Could he even call him that? After all, he’d never been to Hell. What was he?
He winced as he felt the sigil on his arm burn. He pulled his sleeve up, grasped it, and closed his eyes, opening the conduit.
Bailien, William’s voice said within his mind.
Master, Bailien corrected.
There was a brief silence before William responded. Astor is dead?
Master, the covenant has been broken.