"You're in pain," he whispered, startled to realize his home was capable of emotion as well as communicating with him.
Gabriel shifted to his knees, concerned, and placed his hands in the shallow waters nearest him. The suffering was here, too, and he closed his eyes to listen.
The Lake's murmur was soft and just as sad, the currents tickling his fingers and conveying tiny shocks of pain. He struggled to understand fully what the Lake wanted him to know, why the underworld had brought him here. The heart of the underworld, the Lake was the source of Death's power and magic. Its walls were cracked, and it was losing souls daily, despite his efforts to seal the cracks in the human world.
Help. The Lake mourned the loss of its souls and experienced pain at the cracked plane between the underworld and mortal realm.
Gabriel withdrew his hands from the waters, overwhelmed by the emotions of his underworld. He sat for a long moment, raw and desperate, not at all certain what to do to comfort the heartbroken lake and troubled souls it contained or even if he could do anything.
Darkyn knelt beside him and stretched for the water.
"No." Gabriel caught his wrist. "The trees may not object to you being here, but the Lake will fuck you up. It does not tolerate demons, even now."
Darkyn growled but lowered his hand, his hungry gaze on the souls in the waters.
Gabriel knew Darkyn's intention of stealing souls to make an army of undead. They'd been competing at finding souls in the mortal world for weeks now. He reminded himself to be careful about how much he revealed to the demon with neither morals nor empathy.
"Why did it bring us here?" the Dark One demanded. He stood and began pacing restlessly.
"Blood didn't take the edge off?"
"No matter how much I drink, I will still starve."
Gabriel said nothing, attention returning to the lake. The demon's words stirred his sense of urgency, the one he was trying hard to repress so he could think clearly and understand the message his home was trying to give him. One thought didn't allow him to dismiss the demon the way he wished to: that of the human Deidre starving alongside her mate.
"It's hurt. Sad. Broken," he responded. "Does Hell have a heart?"
"Heart?" The Dark One snorted. "Hell has a source of power, one that must remain intact."
"How does it work?"
Darkyn stared at him. "How? It simply does. It's the origin of my power, a gathering of all the depravity that exists in the universe, like the lake is yours."