Blessed Death

by Amy Sumida

  I grimaced at Arach.

  “You were the one who said that word,” Arach pointed out to me. “Because you had to be right too.”

  “I correct you because you are learning American slang, and I want you to get it right,” I said. “Not because I want to be right.”

  “I know, A Thaisce,” Arach said in a much sweeter tone than our son had used. “And I appreciate it. But next time, perhaps you should whisper it into my ear.”

  “You just want me to whisper in your ear,” I teased.

  “And what's wrong with that?” Arach smirked.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “So, that's why the Four Horsemen are all living in Pride Palace,” I concluded.

  Arach and I were having lunch in the dining hall with the boys while I told Arach about the situation with Azrael. Arach's deep ruby hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail; making his dragon-sidhe features more prominent. Shafts of sunlight came in through the high windows on our left, making the crimson scales at his temples shine like glass, and his eyes glow like citrines. Arach narrowed his bright gaze in consideration.

  “Isn't there another death angel that is at odds with Azrael?” Arach asked.

  I blinked as I thought it over, and then my eyes widened with epiphany.

  “Samael,” I whispered. “Sweet sugar cookies! Why didn't we think of him?”

  “Sometimes you need an outside perspective to see a situation clearly,” Arach said wisely.

  “You're a very smart dragon,” I said softly.

  “Thank you.” Arach lifted his chin.

  “I don't care what anyone says,” I added, just to tease him.

  Arach blinked, turned to me sharply, and asked, “What does that mean?”

  “It was a joke.” I kissed his cheek affectionately. “A human one.”

  “Ah.” He smiled indulgently. “As you were, then.”

  “Aye, aye, Capt'n!” I saluted him.

  Arach went back to frowning.

  “Never mind,” I said. “Thanks for the suggestion; I think I'll head back tomorrow morning to let them know.”

  “Tomorrow?” He huffed. “You've just returned.”

  “I want to tell Az while it's still fresh in my mind,” I explained. “If I wait, it will eat at me.”

  “And I should be the only thing eating at you when you're in Faerie,” he lowered his voice to say.

  “Just so,” I agreed. “Besides, you won't miss me; I'll be gone for all of two seconds.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “But those two seconds could change my life.”

  “Arach, we have an agreement, remember?” I touched his Ring of Remembrance—the one that used to belong to the late Queen Aalish. “I won't go to war without talking to you first.”

  “Or without giving me the option of attending.” He nodded. “But battle isn't the only thing that could take you from me.”

  “My darling dragon,” I said gently, “even death wasn't able to separate us.”

  Arach's eyes glistened as he pulled me into a tight hug.

  “We have our daughter to thank for that,” he whispered into my hair. “A daughter we should think about conceiving soon.”

  I stiffened.

  “Vervain.” Arach sighed and eased back. “I know that you have other babies to bear, but Samara is important. Without her, we lose you, and without you, there will be no other children anyway.”

  “The future is already altered, Arach,” I pointed out. “And I don't want to risk changing the children too. Samara is supposed to be my fifth pregnancy. I've only had two so far, and Lesya was already born out of order. That was pushing things. Vero needs to come next, and then Azrael's sons. I'm sorry, but Sam has to wait her turn.”

  “Sam,” Arach whispered with a smile. “You have a nickname for our unborn child.”

  “Does that really surprise you?” I lifted a brow at him.

  “Not in the least, A Thaisce,” he said and then kissed my forehead. “Not in the least.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After a lovely evening with my family, and a sexy night with my dragon-sidhe husband, I went to sleep thinking I'd pass right out. Instead, I tossed and turned; something just didn't sit right with me. Finally, I flipped over and saw Brevyn standing by the bed. I flinched and then sat up.

  “Brev, is everything okay?” I whispered.

  “Mommy, I need to tell you something,” he said grimly.

  “Okay.” I got out of bed and walked him out of the room so we wouldn't wake Arach. When we were out in the hallway, I asked, “What is it?”

  “I've had a strange dream,” he said; his eyes going Ull again. “And I think it's more than a dream.”

  “Is it a prophecy?” I couldn't help shivering; I hated prophecies.

  “I don't think so.” Brevyn frowned. “This feels... more like a warning. Mommy, can a castle warn people?”

  “Can a castle warn people?” I blinked in surprise. “I don't know; maybe if it's a magic castle. Is it our castle that's warning you of something?”

  “No; another castle,” he said solemnly. “It's more than a castle, but I don't know what else to call it. There are a lot of castles all together.”

  “A lot of castles?” I asked as the shivers returned. “Where are these castles, baby? Are they in Faerie?”

  “I don't think so.” He frowned. “We've been to the Under and Water Castles, and this looked much bigger.” He held his arms out wide. “Much bigger.”

  “The castles are underwater?” I asked urgently.

  “They are for now,” he said cryptically. “But they're not going to stay that way.”

  “Oh, fu... faerie poop,” I caught myself before I dropped an F bomb on my son.

  He stared at me a moment and then started giggling.

  “Yes, very funny,” I rolled my eyes. “But, Brevyn, what was your dream about?”

  “The many-castles came up out of the water,” he whispered. “I heard people screaming, Mommy. The many-castles is afraid; it doesn't want to leave the water.”

  “It's going to be okay.” I stroked his silky, dirty-blond hair. “I'll take care of it.”

  “I know you will,” he said confidently. “It's just a dream-warning.” Brevyn's eyes flashed blue, and his young face fell into mature lines. “Nothing is set in stone; not life, or death, or even time.”

  I gasped and then whispered, “Ull?”

  Brevyn smiled softly, kissed my cheek, and then went back to bed.

  “Oh, Brevyn, what are you becoming? What have I done to you?”

  Dexter whined and stuck his wet nose into my arm. I had been quiet enough to allow sleeping dragons to lie, but not sleeping nurials. I stroked Dexter's pointed fox ears as he tapped at me worriedly with one of his six paws. He looked at Brevyn's closed door and whined again.

  “Keep an eye on him for me, Dex,” I said. “I think our boy may have some rough times ahead; some soul searching to do.”

  Dex huffed in agreement and padded back to his bed; a smaller version of Arach's and mine that was set right beside our bed. Dexter turned three times in a circle—his sex legs squishing his fluffy mattress—and then settled back to sleep.

  “If only sleep was as easy for me,” I lamented as I crawled back into my bed.

  I briefly considered going back to the God Realm without waking Arach; I'd done it often enough with my other husbands when I visited the Faerie Realm. But I knew that Arach would be furious when he found out. So, I tossed and turned all night, and waited till morning to give my dragon husband a proper goodbye.

  Before I made my farewells, I told Arach about Brevyn; about the dream-warning and the glimpse of Ull.

  “We knew that Ull would surface eventually,” Arach said gently. “Ull's soul is in our son; Brevyn is essentially Ull.”

  “But he's also a child,” I said. “Our child.”

  “This is true for every human or god birth,” Arach pointed out. “It's just that Ull's memories w
eren't given time to fade before he was placed in Brevyn. You know what that's like, Vervain. You lived it. Do you consider yourself to be Sabine?”

  “No,” I whispered with epiphany.

  “No,” Arach agreed. “You know the difference. You were once Sabine, and her memories are yours, but you are now Vervain. Just as Ull is now Brevyn. He will have moments when he remembers, but he will never be Ull again; that life is gone. We get to raise him in this life, and it's the love we surround him with that will make him ours.”

  “Yes; you're right,” I said with relief, and then I felt guilty for feeling relieved.

  “A Thaisce,” Arach said kindly. “Just as Odin found Sabine again through you, Ull can be found again through Brevyn. His old life may be gone, but he is not gone; that was the whole point of his death.”

  “A fresh start,” I whispered. “That's what he wanted.”

  “And that's what he got,” Arach said. “As we got our son.”

  “But I didn't have Sabine's memories as soon as Brevyn's getting Ull's,” I protested.

  “Didn't you?” Arach canted his head at me. “You've told me how you knew spells at a very early age, and most things came to you without instruction.”

  “Yeah; that's true,” I admitted. “But I didn't actually remember anything.”

  “You remembered in the way that your mind could accept,” Arach said. “Brevyn might be able to accept more than you did.”

  “That's more likely than not.”

  “And it's also more likely that he will be just fine,” Arach hugged me and then kissed me goodbye. “Now, get back to the God Realm; the sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back, and the sooner I won't have to worry.”

  I used my ring to take me back to Pride Palace.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I reformed in my bedroom, where Kirill and Lesya were waiting for me.

  “Mommy!” Lesya clapped her hands.

  “This trick never gets old; not for any of my children,” I said to Kirill as I took Lesya from him. “Hey, baby girl.” I kissed her cheek. “Miss me?”

  She giggled.

  “I missed you,” Kirill said before he kissed me. “Did you have good time vith boys?”

  “Yeah, but I was only there for one night.”

  Kirill lifted a sable brow.

  “Arach pointed out something we didn't think of,” I said. “Or someone, rather. And Brevyn had a dream.”

  Kirill's face went solemn. “Vhat kind of dream?”

  “He called it a dream-warning,” I said. “It was about Dvārakā, Kirill.”

  “Vhat vas varning?”

  “Vhat varning?” Lesya mimicked her father's accent perfectly.

  Kirill lost his grim countenance and chuckled. Lesya was so good at bringing levity to any situation.

  “A city rising from the sea,” I said in a light tone as I tickled Lesya.

  “I knew zose Hindus vere being too flippant,” Kirill growled.

  “Flip, flip, flip-ants!” Lesya declared.

  “Yep; they're a bunch of flip-ants,” I agreed with her, and she giggled more. “Now, let's go see your Uncle Az and tell him about another death angel.”

  I started out of the room, and Kirill hurried after me.

  “Vhat death angel?” He asked.

  “Samael,” I said with a dark look his way.

  “Samael,” Kirill whispered. “Vhy did ve not zink of him?”

  “In our defense, there are a lot of angels.” I got into the golden cage of our elevator and let Lesya push the button for the bottom floor.

  “Mommy?” Lesya asked as we began to descend. “Angels here?”

  “Do angels hear?” I asked in confusion. “Yes; they can hear very well.”

  “Do you mean; Are zere angels here?” Kirill asked Lesya.

  Lesya nodded. “Angels here?”

  “Yes; some of Uncle Azrael's friends are here,” I said. “Why?”

  “I fly!” Lesya started bouncing excitedly. “Angels!”

  I looked at Kirill and grimaced.

  “Vhy not?” Kirill asked.

  “Kirill, they're the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,” I whispered.

  “And her uncle is Angel of Death.” Kirill shrugged. “Zey are good men; she'll be safe vith zem.”

  “Fair enough,” I agreed.

  “Fly!” Lesya screamed.

  “Ugh!” I groaned. “Inside voice!”

  “Sorry!” Lesya screeched.

  “You're still yelling!” I yelled back.

  “Mommy too!” Lesya screamed.

  “Enough!” Kirill roared, and both Lesya and I went quiet. “Zank you,” he said with annoyance.

  The elevator dinged, and Kirill opened the door for me. I gave Lesya a wide-eyed, chastised look as I carried her out, and she giggled.

  “Fly,” she whispered to me.

  “I'll ask them, but no promises,” I said.

  “Promise,” Lesya nodded.

  “And this is what happens when you try to reason with a toddler,” I whined.

  “Which toddler?” Azrael asked as we strode into the room. “I don't see any toddlers here; only young ladies.”

  Lesya giggled and launched herself toward Azrael. Azrael was thankfully very agile and caught Lesya as she fell from my arms, and then he swooped her up. As much as Lesya looked like her father—with ebony hair and ocean-blue eyes—she was similar in coloring to Azrael as well. They looked good together.

  “Um, is there something you wanna tell us?” Ted asked as he looked from Lesya to Az.

  “This is Kirill and Vervain's daughter; Lesya,” Azrael said as he shifted her to see the angels. “Lesya, these are my friends; Ted, Sam, and Ira.”

  Three of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse suddenly turned into jello; they started cooing and waving at my daughter. Lesya is a beautiful child, and she instinctively knows how to work that to her best advantage. She waved back and giggled at the men until they were completely hers. Then—when she was assured of success—the little lioness pounced; verbally that is.

  “Fly!” Lesya lifted her arms to the angels. “Fly, please!”

  “I can take you,” Azrael started to say.

  “Fly!” Lesya cried again as she leaned toward Ted.

  Of course my daughter would pick the Antichrist to take her flying. Admittedly, he was the most attractive of the three. Azrael was the most handsome of the Horsemen, but Ted takes second place (yes, I'm biased; so what?). Lesya, however, had already flown with Az, and now she wanted someone new.

  “It would be my honor,” Thaddeus declared as he took my daughter from Azrael. To me, he said, “I'll be careful with her; I promise.”

  “Thank you, Ted.” I smiled confidently. “I know you will. But don't let her boss you around. Be firm with her when you're done or she'll have you flying her about all day.”

  “Got it,” Ted said confidently as he headed out.

  “He's doomed,” Kirill declared.

  The rest of the Horsemen chuckled.

  “She's adorable,” Sam said.

  “Zank you.” Kirill held a chair out for me. “Ve are very blessed.”

  “We have another possibility,” I said as soon as Lesya was out of hearing range.

  “For what?” Sam asked.

  “For the attack on Azrael.” Ira rolled his acid-yellow eyes. “Obviously.”

  “Samael,” I announced.

  The angels gaped at me.

  “He wouldn't,” Azrael whispered. “He's been coming around; seeing Jerry's true nature. I think we really got through to him the last time we saw him.”

  “The last time we saw him, Samael punched you in the face and called you a bastard,” I reminded Az.

  “And I told you how much darkness he must deal with,” Azrael countered. “I can't believe that Samael would do something so dishonorable as to orchestrate an attack on me through others. He may be an ass, but he's an honest one; he would challenge me himself.”

  “Honor i
s fluid,” Ira noted. “You can be honorable to one man while being despicable to another.”

  “What he said.” I nodded.

  “And if you really did open Samael's eyes to the truth about Jerry, he may think the honorable thing would be to remove Jerry from power,” Sam added.

  “But this was an attack on me,” Azrael huffed. “It... oh.”

  “Yep; anyone with sense in their head knows that Jerry will not win against the Prince of Hell. You have too many powerful allies; not to mention half of the angels,” Sam noted.

  “Why mutiny against Jerry, when you could have the Devil kill him for you?” Ira asked. “Jerry would be dead, and the Throne ripe for the claiming.”

  “No one would put Samael on the Throne,” Azrael said. “He doesn't have the disposition.”

  “That's probably not his goal,” Ira said. “Samael may simply want to be rid of Jerry and get a few kicks in with you in the process.”

  “It's brilliant,” I whispered.

  “And difficult to prove,” Azrael concluded.

  “We do a little recon and a little research.” Sam shrugged. “No biggie.”

  “Samael rules the Fifth Heaven, doofus,” Ira huffed.

  “So?” Sam scoffed. “We're the Horsemen; we can go anywhere.”

  “That wasn't my point,” Ira said. “Makhon is where most of the Host lives; it's not warded. It is, however, full of angels... most—if not all—of whom are loyal to Samael. It's doubtful that anyone there will talk to us about him.”

  “I've been there; it's lovely,” I murmured.

  “You took her to Makhon?” Ted asked Azrael in surprise.

  “To hear the Trisagion.” Azrael nodded. “Samael wasn't there, so Tagas invited us.”

  “Though he showed up after the performance,” I muttered.

  “So, if we can get Samael out of his heaven again, we could take a look around his home?” Ira asked. “That would be more helpful than simply interrogating the angels.”

  “I think I could arrange a tour.” Azrael smirked.

  “But how do we get that angelic snake to leave Heaven?” Sam asked.

  “We invite him to Hell,” Ira suggested.