Blessed Death

by Amy Sumida

  “Stop that,” Azrael whispered. “It's going to be all right.”

  “You always say that,” I murmured into his skin.

  “And it always is.” Azrael kissed me and then slid out of bed. “Come on; let's take a shower together before the rest of them wake up.”

  Azrael and I headed into our bathroom, and he turned on the shower. Our tub was large enough to be considered a pool; with an extra-wide shower head set over the center of it. So, there were no curtains needed; we just walked down the tiled steps into the sunken tub and stood under the spray.

  I sighed as the hot water seeped through my hair and over my skin; easing the tension from my muscles. Azrael made a similar sound, and my hands slipped around his waist and up his back to knead his shoulders. He leaned his head onto my shoulder as his hands drifted down to knead my bottom.

  “I'm not tense there,” I teased him.

  “No, but massaging your ass helps to relieve my tension,” Azrael murmured before he started kissing my neck. “It's a very nice ass.”

  Azrael eased me out of the spray and lifted his mouth to mine. I gave up on massaging his shoulders and instead pulled him closer. With a rumble of pleasure, Azrael picked me up and carried me to the side of the tub, where a ledge formed a bench. He sat down and settled me across his lap. As I continued to kiss him, I reached out and switched the water from shower head to faucet. The drains closed, and the tub started to fill rapidly.

  Azrael smiled. “There goes grabbing a fast shower before the others wake up.”

  “They can always join us.” I shrugged and went back to kissing him.

  His slick body rocked against mine; the hard planes of his muscles pressing into my curves in delicious ways. The scent of vanilla orchids filled my nose along with the spice of male; Az always smelled good, even when he needed a bath. I assumed it was his angel magic. Then he used another type of magic on me; easing himself inside me before he began a slow grind with his hips.

  What a wonderful way to start the day.

  The water started to rise around us, and I laid back in its embrace; letting it carry my weight. Az increased the tempo while I held onto his shoulders. Water splashed around us violently, but we didn't care. Making waves never bothered either of us. But then Az shifted me onto the seat and pulled out. He gave me a huge grin before taking a deep breath and sinking below the water. I laid my head back on the ledge and sighed as Azrael's talented tongue started working miracles.

  And that's when Trevor walked in.

  “Where's Azrael?” Trevor asked in confusion.

  My eyes shot open just as Azrael's hands crept up over my breasts.

  “Oh; sorry.” Trevor laughed and started to head out of the bathroom.

  Azrael surfaced and shook the water from his dark hair. “You don't want to join us?”

  Trevor paused and looked back as Azrael lifted me up and stood me on the seat. He turned me around and bent me over so that my hands were pressed to the floor around the sunken tub. With me standing on the ledge, I was the perfect height; at the same level as I'd be if I were on my hands and knees on the floor. Azrael slid into me from behind and took up a rapid pace.

  “You know Vervain has an oral fixation; best get to satisfying it,” Azrael said.

  “Holy shit, man; did you really just say that?” Trevor asked with a lopsided grin.

  “Just get over here,” I growled.

  Trevor shed his pants in seconds and knelt before me. I wrapped my mouth around him, and Trevor jerked with pleasure. As I began to suck him in, Trevor slid his hands around my breasts and started massaging them. Azrael lifted one of my knees onto the bathroom floor; opening me wider so he could slide in deeper. I moaned around Trevor as Azrael's hand slipped to my sweet spot and started a furious rubbing. Then the men were shouting their release as I moaned mine.

  “Vhat is all ze noise about?” Kirill asked as he came into the bathroom with Odin. “Oh; okay zen.”

  The men started to strip.

  I slipped back into the bathwater; turning off the faucet as I went. By the time I was seated again, Kirill was there; pulling me to him with a sexy growl. Odin pressed up against me from behind, and I was surrounded by love once again.

  Yeah; being Godhunter could be stressful but it also had its perks.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After our bath, we ate breakfast and fed Lesya, then took her downstairs to play with Zariel—Sam and Fallon's daughter. When Lesya was settled, we headed down to the first floor. As the elevator neared the ground floor of Pride Palace, the sound of a commotion wafted up to us. I groaned and rubbed at my head. Despite my stress-relieving morning, I wasn't ready for another issue. But this commotion ended up being a welcome one.

  When we stepped into the dining hall, we found three of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse waiting for us; Samuel, Ira, and Thaddeus. They were War, Famine, and the Antichrist respectively. With them was Michael and some Intare. The four angels were reminiscing over cups of coffee while my lions listened eagerly.

  “Do you remember that guy in Palestine who called Ira a girly-boy?” Ted asked Sam.

  “The one Ira made eat his own shoe?” Sam countered. “Of course I do.”

  “You made a guy eat a shoe?” Lucius—one of my lions—asked.

  “I made him so hungry that he'd eat anything,” Ira said dryly. “Then I made his shoe look like a side of beef.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Azrael—the fourth horseman—asked as he walked into the dining hall smiling. “Not that you aren't welcome; I'm actually really glad to see you.”

  “We came for you, buddy!” Ted—aka Thaddeus— exclaimed as he stood.

  The other two horsemen jumped up as well, and they all went over to hug Azrael.

  “Mike called us,” Ira explained.

  “He said you were attacked by Virtues,” Sam added. “That's some holy bullshit.”

  “We're here to teach those idiots a lesson,” Ted declared. “The Riders are not to be fucked with.”

  “Thank you,” Azrael said sincerely. “And thanks for calling them, Mike. It never even occurred to me.”

  “I wanted you protected,” Mike said. “And the best way to do that is to make you as strong as possible.”

  “And I'm at my strongest when I stand with my fellow riders,” Azrael concluded. “Good thinking.”

  “Yeah; you should have thought of it,” Ira chided.

  “Calling in the Horsemen of the Apocalypse is kind of extreme,” Azrael said dryly. “I try not to overreact.”

  “And bringing in your daddy isn't extreme?” Thaddeus shot back.

  “I didn't bring him in.” Az held up his hands. “He came all on his own.”

  “We may have had some ulterior motives for coming,” Sam confessed.

  “What?” Az went serious. “Do you need help too?”

  “More like advice,” Ted said. “We want to know what retirement is like.”

  “What?” Azrael gaped at them.

  “We want to retire, Az,” Sam said. “You did it; so why can't we?”

  “But you don't really have any duties,” Azrael pointed out. “No offense.”

  “Just that big one looming over our heads,” Ted said softly. “Not to mention the bad rep we get.”

  “You ever notice how duty sounds like doodie?” Samuel laughed. “That's what our responsibility is; a big pile of shit.”

  “People hate us,” Ira huffed.

  “I need coffee before I deal vith depressed horsemen,” Kirill declared as he shambled over to the pot.

  “We're not depressed,” Ira protested; his gaunt face making the statement seem to be a lie.

  “We're having an existential crisis,” Ted added.

  “Isn't zat same zing?” Kirill asked and then held up his empty coffee mug. “Nyet; don't tell me. I'm not ready to know.”

  “We have no purpose beyond a future which will hopefully never come to pass,
” Sam explained. “All we do is fuck around and get drunk.”

  “And you think that retirement will change that?” Azrael asked with a laugh “You'll still be horsemen; there's nothing you can do about your magic.”

  “We can reject the energy Jerry doles out to us,” Ted said with grim severity.

  “Whoa,” I whispered. “I think I need some coffee too.”

  Kirill handed me a mug that he'd already fixed to my liking.

  “I love you so very much, you beautiful man,” I said with a sappy smile for my black lion.

  “I love you too,” Kirill said as he escorted me to a seat a few chairs down from the angel rebellion.

  Trevor and Odin joined us; too busy watching the horsemen—with the morbid fascination normally reserved for car wrecks—to bother grabbing coffee.

  “If you reject the magic, you'll die,” Azrael growled. “You can't do that. I'll be really pissed at you all if you let yourselves die.”

  “Az, did you not hear the bit about us not doing anything?” Sam asked. “We mainly throw our power about for funsies; that's it.”

  “Except for those annoying instances when Jerry wants us to dole out some vengeance for him,” Ira huffed. “Then we have to stir up trouble.”

  “We've been squirreling away magic for years,” Ted added. “We've got heaps of it; we'll be fine.”

  “You can exist without him,” Azrael whispered.

  “Totally, man,” Sam fist-bumped Azrael. “We don't need that fool no more. Fuck him.”

  “More importantly; he won't have any hold over us,” Ted added. “We won't have to bow to the Throne ever again. We'll ride on our terms; whenever we feel like it.”

  “Like in defense of a fellow rider,” Sam said. “Azrael, you've given us the perfect excuse to give Jerry the middle finger.”

  “What do you think, Az?” Ira asked.

  “I think all men should ride free,” Azrael declared.

  “Free Riders!” Sam exclaimed. “We should turn our horses into motorcycles.”

  “I am not turning Moonbeam into a motorcycle!” Thaddeus shouted in horror.

  “Moonbeam?” Trevor whispered to me.

  “I think that's the name of his horse,” I whispered back.

  “The Antichrist rides a horse named 'Moonbeam?'” Trevor asked with wide, half-horrified and half-laughing eyes.

  “He's the color of moonbeams,” Ted huffed at Trevor.

  “You know it's not a real horse, right?” Ira asked Ted drolly.

  “He is real!” Ted growled.

  “Okay, okay.” Azrael held up his hands. “No one is making Moonbeam into a motorcycle. We're not bikers; we're the fucking Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!” His voice lifted into a defiant shout.

  The men all cheered; even my lions.

  “And horsemen ride horses,” Ted added.

  “Yeah, all right,” Sam gave in. “The main thing is that the band is back together.”

  The four men looked at each other, smiled, and shouted, “The Four Horsemen ride again!”

  The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse hooted with joy as the Archangel Michael smiled on benevolently, and my werelions watched with eager grins. I knew Azrael had started something momentous when he retired, but I hadn't expected it to be epic; like war in Heaven or Apocalypse epic. I didn't want to rain on the parade—especially with horses involved—but I'd seen firsthand how things went when you tried to cheat human myth. Myths had their own energy—their own life—and they could do crazy things to protect that life force. Just as I would do anything to protect Azrael.

  I dearly hoped that the myth of the Apocalypse didn't have enough power to hurt my angel. Because if it did, I'd have to decimate it, and I'd had enough of that end-of-the-world bullshit with Ragnarok.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mike went home, but the Horsemen stayed the night at Pride Palace. I was pretty sure they were moving in; temporarily, of course. I didn't mind. In fact, I was glad that Azrael had friends to keep him company while he was under house arrest. Also, those particular friends had enough stored-up magic to watch over my husband. Which meant that Azrael was safe enough for me to feel comfortable with popping over to Faerie to see my sons.

  I let Kirill, Trevor, and Odin know that I was leaving, but didn't bother Azrael. He was downstairs in the Common Room with the Intare and the Horsemen, and I didn't want to intrude. I kissed Lesya goodbye and used my Ring of Remembrance—handed down to me by my faerie father—to travel through time and space to the Faerie Realm. In particular; the moment after I'd last left it.

  The last time I'd left Faerie, I'd departed from the nursery. I reappeared in the same place I'd left from; standing in front of the bedroom window. My twin sons—who looked nothing alike, even though they had once been the same baby—clapped in appreciation of my trick. Their father, however, showed his approval in other ways. Arach smiled as he pulled me into an embrace then kissed me thoroughly as our boys groaned.

  Although the boys would be three-years-old soon, they looked much older. Rian and Brevyn had dragon-sidhe magic running through them; Rian from Arach, and Brevyn from a piece of my faerie mother's soul which now resides in him. The dragon magic had sped up their growth. Brevyn had received his dragon magic later than Rian, but he had caught up this year. Rian had stopped growing so rapidly when he reached the approximate size of an eight-year-old human child. Brevyn had stopped his acceleration at about the same size, and now my boys were showing a normal human growth. This was a huge relief to me. I had mourned the loss of all of those baby years. Though, I have to admit it was nice to get past the diaper phase fast.

  So, the nursery wasn't really a nursery anymore; it had become a children's bedroom. The scratching post that had once dominated one corner was gone; replaced by a bookshelf. The cradles were gone too—I cried the day we removed them—and two small beds had been brought in. My rocking chair was also gone, as was the changing table, and the armoire now had a matching one beside it. There were toys for older children littering the floor, and a window seat where my rocker used to be.

  It was a punch in my gut every time I returned to this. The changes had come so quickly that when I was gone from Faerie for long periods, I tended to forget about them. Coming home to see my three-year-olds the size and maturity of eight-year-olds, standing in their “little boy” room, was tough.

  But our connection—the one we'd formed when they were still in the womb—made everything easier. And then there was the fact that I loved them more than breathing. Even when they were being sassy.

  “Get a job,” Rian whined as his father and I continued to bask in our reunion.

  “It's 'get a room,' stupid,” Brevyn smacked his brother in the arm.

  “Whatever.” Rian rolled his bright, dragon eyes.

  It was so odd to hear Brevyn talking in fully formed sentences. He'd taken longer to get there than Rian, but now that he had, he was showing a sharpness of wit that was a little daunting.

  “Mommy, can you please tell Rian that I'm right?” Brevyn asked.

  Arach groaned as he released me. “He definitely takes after you.”

  “And Rian is a mini-you, but they both have pieces of their mother and father in them,” I chided Arach. Then I looked at Brevyn and Rian. “Brevyn is right; the saying is 'get a room,' but I don't want either of you using it again. Because you know what happens when you disrespect Mommy and Daddy?”

  “We get spanked,” Rian said with a grim expression.

  “Right,” Arach said. “So; no wise-head remarks.”

  “It's wise-ass, honey,” I whispered to him. “But don't use that word around them.”

  “But wisdom comes from the head, not the buttocks,” Arach reasoned.

  “That's my point.” I nodded.

  Arach just frowned.

  “Because you're saying something smart, but you're also being a butt about it,” Brevyn explained to his father.

  Arach and I looked at Brevyn with wide
eyes.

  “Is that correct?” Arach asked me.

  “That's probably the best definition I've ever heard,” I huffed.

  “Thank you, Mommy,” Brevyn said proudly.

  For a moment, Ull peered out of Brevyn's eyes, and my stomach clenched as my eyes watered. I had placed my friend's soul into my son before he was born, and then he had been split in two. Brevyn had gotten all of Ull's soul. Ull was living a new life as a prince of Fire now, and he wouldn't come into his past life memories till much later; if ever. I intended to tell him, of course, but that would also be much later. Until then, the memories stayed buried, but the wisdom of Ull's long life often peeped through; the wisdom and several other qualities that Ull had possessed. Sometimes, it was his humor, and sometimes his kindness, but there were often moments like this one, when I was painfully aware that my son was more than my child. He had an ancient soul and powerful magic that we still didn't fully understand.

  “Mommy?” Brevyn asked in concern.

  “I'm just so proud of you; you're a very smart boy,” I whispered.

  “Thank you,” he said as his chest puffed out.

  “But remember to temper that wisdom with your equally abundant kindness,” I added, and Brevyn deflated. “Was it really worth the pride of being right when you had to make your brother feel badly to do so?”

  Brevyn looked from me to his twin—who was pouting in a way that Arach often did—and his face fell. Brev went to his brother and hugged him in the open manner of children. Rian's pout disappeared immediately as he hugged his twin back. The boys might sass each other, as they did us, but they were two halves of one whole, and that was a bond even stronger than the one between normal twins. They could never hurt each other purposefully.

  “I'm sorry, Ree,” Brevyn said earnestly. “You're not stupid; I didn't mean that.”

  “I know, Brev.” Rian grinned as he pushed his brother away playfully. “You just like being a wise-ass.”