“The blame for last year’s incident should fall on Lucifer’s doorstep. When he and his minions run amuck I have to clean up the mess. If you want to blame someone for keeping you so busy blame him—unless you two have bonded lately.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look around you, Samael…” Michael said pointing to the women/sins seated throughout the room. “…why else would you surround yourself with these abominations? And while we’re on the subject, why is Lucifer’s sentry guarding the entrance to this very building?”
“Michael, Michael, Michael—you know very well that in my line of work I must interact with all kinds of beings. I am the Angel of Death. I deliver souls to the Dark and the Light. The souls that the Light claims are sent directly to their heavenly home. They take no detours. He will not allow it. Now Lucifer, on the other hand, well he’s a little more accommodating. He will let me use his minions if he has something to gain from it thus—the reason the ladies are here. And as to why he has Jefferson stationed out front—maybe he feels he has to protect his assets…” Samael nodded towards the women, “…from God’s Avenging Angel. That’s you, brother,” he said with a smirk as he took another sip from his cup. “Oh and another reason I find these lowly beings so helpful in my work, Michael, is that they know better than to play games with me—unlike you.”
“Games—what are you talking about? I do not play games. I have always been straight forward with you.” Michael told him, confusion clearly evident on his perfect face.
Samael waved his hand in a dismissive manner, “You would say that now—since you’re standing right in front of me,” he took one final sip of coffee, setting the cup and saucer down upon the table next to him. Readjusting his glasses, he walked over to a large pedestal where the “Tibetan Book of the Dead” rested, running his fingers down the pages as he studied its contents. “I know, Michael, that my job is less glamorous than yours but someone has to do it and I accept that responsibility gladly. I do my job and I do it well so when I deliver a soul to its final resting place that is where it—should—remain.”
“Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about, Samael? You talk in riddles. You need to make yourself clear or stop wasting my time.”
“So —that’s all our little visit is to you—a waste of time? You wound me, brother—and, as I’ve said before, I’m very busy so just tell me why you are here so I can get on with my work.” Samael’s statement was curt and to the point as he continued to study the large book before him.
Michael, sighing deeply, watched the tall, dark figure before him. With a shake of his head the Avenger turned, walking slowly over to El Greco’s painting of the tortured Christ upon the cross. He stared at the tormented eyes, the sunken sallow cheeks as streaks of blood and sweat peppered the ravaged face. “Nothing has changed,” he whispered to the image on the canvas before turning back to Samael, the sadness he felt nearly overwhelming—even for him.
“I am here because of the pleas of a young girl, an innocent who has asked for my help.” The turmoil going on inside of the Michael was evident—and a bit surprising to Samael, as the angel continued talking, “Her request was pure and her words so full of sadness that I had no choice but to respond.”
“Michael, each of us receives a thousand pleas a day. The human race has never had a problem asking for whatever they want. Why should this one girl be so special? What could she have asked of you that would stir the sympathies of ‘The Hand of God’?”
“It was not what she requested so much as who the request was for that stirred me into action. Her prayers were not for herself, as so many of them are, but for someone she knew to be in great need—a woman and a vampire.”
Samael’s face was incredulous. He shook his head from side to side, his enormous black wings, quivering as they threatened to burst forth from his back, the only indication of just how agitated he really was. “And you criticize me for the company I keep!” he shouted as he spun around, his black eyes boring into his fellow angel. “You are intervening for a vampire, a creature whose black soul I have delivered to the Dark Lord once already. Yes, my brother, I know of whom you speak.”
Michael’s icy stare locked onto Samael causing the death angel to abruptly halt his angry tirade. When Samael had calmed down a little, the Avenger continued to try and explain his actions. “Then if you know who I’m talking about, you must realize that this creature is different. He’s not a demon—just a soul in torment—his state of being brought about largely by that hell-spawn himself, Dragone. And this young girl is the second one to plead for him.”
“Stop, please—I need time to absorb all of this.” Samael interrupted. He picked up his cup and reached for the large silver urn resting on a marble table next to him. He poured a cup of steaming hot coffee and handed it to Michael. “I find I’ve developed a weakness for this brew the humans are so fond of. It’s the caffeine, I suppose. Here—try some. No—that’s a shame, it’s really quite good.” Samael told him as he took a sip from the cup. “So, let me get this straight, because this vampire was turned against his will you feel you have the right to intercede for him whenever anyone asks you to?”
“It’s not for the vampire, alone, that I do what I do. The first time I felt the need to step in and correct an injustice was when a woman, his friend, asked me too. It was the one and only time I made a deal with Lucifer for a soul that had already been claimed. And because Lucifer is what he is, the lives of many that I call friends are now in danger.”
Samael bent his head to take another sip of coffee but something Michael had said caused him to jerk, spilling the hot liquid onto the floor. Setting the cup down, he said, “The vampire in question was a priest in his former life, was he not, Michael?”
Michael watched Samael closely before responding. It was evident the death angel was working out something in his mind—something he found very disturbing—as he waited for Michael to respond.
“Yes Samael, he was.”
“And because of the pleas of a woman you called his soul back from where it had been sent—by me, I’d like to remind you?”
“I didn’t exactly call his soul back so much as Lucifer released it—at my request. Suddenly the reason for Samael’s agitation became clear to Michael. “Samael, listen to me. You know I would never re-claim a soul that you had already sent to its final destination—not without a good reason.”
“No reason is good enough to undo my actions.” Samael reminded him.
“This one was. I had to do it because it was the only way I could stop the woman from relinquishing her own soul. She was going to sacrifice herself to Lucifer to save her friend —before her pre-ordained time.”
“Samael raised one dark eyebrow, “So the infallible Michael took it upon himself to make a deal with the devil?”
Michael raised his arm and rested a hand on Samael’s shoulder, “Listen brother, I am sorry I countermanded your actions and called back a soul you had already claimed but it was something that had to be done. It was not the woman’s time to die but Lucifer would have taken her soul regardless. He saw his chance to maneuver me into doing something I would not ordinarily do—negotiate with the Lord of Hell. He released the vampire’s soul and claimed Dragone’s army. So he, at least, made out quite well. Now that I think back on it, he must’ve had it planned that way from the beginning.”
“Lucifer was all too happy to inform me of your betrayal. He said you broke protocol and brought the soul of the priest back for your own selfish reasons. He led me to believe he was not involved at all. It would seem that our brother used his treacherous ways to trick us both,” said Samael.
“It’s his nature, Samael—he is the Great Deceiver—but I know how we can turn the tables on him—if you will agree to help me.”
Samael began a slow pacing, his large form flowing around the room. M
ichael could tell he was deep in thought so the angel remained silent until his brother was ready to speak.
Samael came to a stop before one of the women. He held out his hand to Jezebel as she slipped her fingers into his. “When Lucifer was here…” he began, his back to Michael, “…he had that harlot, Lilith, with him. It seems your vampire has caught her eye. The only reason the Lord of Darkness allowed his creations…” Samael said, indicating the women, “…to help me with my soul collecting was because he wanted my help with something.”
“I’m not surprised—and what did he demand of you?”
“He asked me to keep an eye on that demon bitch while she took care of some business here on earth. He said I could utilize her many talents to aid in my soul collecting during her time in this realm but, instead, she and those hounds of hers have followed their own agenda. Not that I would ever accept the kind of help she would offer anyway. Lucifer is a fool when it comes to Lilith. She has no regard for rules of any kind—his or anyone else’s. She’s made my life a living hell and those hounds have slaughtered dozens of innocents before their rightful time. She’s screwed things up royally for me so—I will do whatever you ask as long as you promise me one thing.”
“And what is that?”
“You must promise to take care of Lilith.”
“Of that you can be assured for, if my hunch is right, it is she that has taken the vampire and…” Michael stopped suddenly, his eyes glazing over as if in a trance. He remained that way for a short time, snapping back to realty as quickly as he’d slipped away from it.
“What is it?” asked Samael.
“It seems I’m not the only one looking for the vampire. The young girl mentioned another woman who was searching for him and it appears that she’s enlisted the help of his old friends. If we don’t hurry Lilith will be returning to the underworld with quite a collection of souls—all of which Lucifer had promised me he would not claim. It would seem that Lilith is but a puppet on a string. She may think she orchestrated the capture of the priest but Lucifer’s signature is all over this setup. I have to find her, Samael, but the darkness surrounding her is blocking my sight.”
“Well, Michael, you’ve come to the right place. For once you can be glad that I surround myself with Lucifer’s minions. They are creatures of the darkness, themselves, and can find that bitch, and your priest, in a heartbeat—if they don’t already know where they are. Ana!”
Ana stepped out of the shadows. Head bowed, she raised her eyes to meet those of the Angel of Death. “Ana, tell me—do you know where Lilith and her mangy dogs are hiding?”
Ana’s eyes traveled from Samael to the Avenger who was now standing before the fireplace, his back to them. She rubbed her shoulder absently where the door had slammed into it earlier.
“It’s alright, Ana…” Samael told her, “…you are safe from my brother’s wrath—for the moment. Who knows, maybe he won’t be so judgmental the next time he visits if you show him you are willing to co-operate now.”
“Don’t push your luck, brother.” Michael whispered under his breath.
Ana’s eyes strayed fearfully from one angel to the other but, before she can respond, Lucrezia volunteered the information.
“My Lord, Lucifer’s concubine and two of the hounds are in the Hell Hole, or rather the New York entrance. The third hound, Rasputin, is not among them.
Michael turned, eyeing the woman warily, “Can she be trusted, Samael, or is she setting me up?”
Lucrezia turned to face the angel, “Avenger, while you and I are mortal enemies, I detest that bitch Lilith even more, so you can believe what I have said.”
“Well—I’ll find out soon enough, won’t I? Be assured, woman, if this is a trap you’re leading me into—I will be back and our visit will not be as pleasant as this one.” Michael warned and the demon nodded.
“No need to be so dramatic, brother…” said Samael, “…and whatever it is you’re walking into you won’t be doing it alone. Lucifer misled me and I’ve never been fond of Lilith so—I’m coming with you. When do we leave?”
Chapter 24
Christoff stared at the broken door. “Wooo…” he whistled. “…someone—or something—wanted out of this room pretty badly. They forced the door open then wedged it back into place so they couldn’t be followed. We’ll have to figure out a way to open it again without alerting whoever’s still inside. Stand behind me while I…”
“Jeezus vampire, just rip the thing open.” Eva said in frustration as she reached around Christoff and grabbed hold of the twisted metal. Pushing hard, she began to bend the broken door but stopped when a loud screeching echoed throughout the passageway as the metal was forced back into its original state.
Christoff tried to shove Eva aside. He was surprised by the strength of the she-wolf when his attempt to move her away from the door failed. “Damn woman, why don’t you just call out and announce to them all that we’ve arrived?” he whispered, angry at her carelessness.
Eva whirled around to face him, her own eyes blazing. “I don’t care who knows we’re here—we have to get inside. Wait a minute—you’re not afraid, are you vampire? Rick led me to believe you were a great warrior but I’ve got to tell you—so far I haven’t seen it,” she spat at him. “I want to get to Rick before they kill or maim him so I’m going through that door with or without you!” she said as she turned and reached for the twisted metal again.
This time Christoff did manage to shove her aside long enough to grab the door handle and yank. Fueled by anger and frustration, the damaged steel was no match for the vampire’s strength. The metal moaned and creaked and finally gave way as it fell into Christoff’s arms. The vampire heaved the door aside, slamming it into the wall, the clatter of metal on cement shattering the silence in the long, narrow tunnel.
Somewhere beyond the doorway, an ear-splitting bellow was heard. Christoff turned back to Evangeline, his red eyes burning with fury, “So much for a sneak attack. If whatever that thing is didn’t already know we were here—it does now. I hope you’re happy.” he said as he clutched his Persian shamshir with both hands.
“And I hope you’re the same cocky bastard you are now when you meet up with that thing!” Eva shouted back at him. She attempted to push past the vampire but a firm hand on her shoulder prevented her from getting very far. Angry, she twisted around to see who was trying to stop her this time.
“Eva…” Julian said in a quiet, urgent voice, “…Christoff is only trying to keep us all alive. He hasn’t lived for over two thousand years by being careless. If he appears cocky it’s because he’s the best at what he does—so give him the chance to prove it and we may just pull this rescue off. Otherwise—if you two can’t work together—then Rick—Kate and Thomas—hell, all of us are as good as dead. Put your personal feelings aside, Evangeline, and let’s stick to the original plan—okay?” Eva eyes strayed first to Christoff then back to Julian before she sighed heavily then nodded in agreement.
“Sorry—it’s just—I need to find Rick.”
“I know—and we will.” Julian said, then turned towards the vampire. “Christoff—lead the way.”
Christoff , nostrils flaring, moved past Julian. He sniffed the air, red eyes taking in every detail. The room appeared to be empty, the only sound was the ringing of a dozen phones scattered haphazardly across the floor. “This place reeks of werewolf—lots of them,” he said as he looked over his shoulder at Julian.
“I agree…” Eva said coming up behind the vampire, “…but there’s also the stench of the hounds and—I smell humans.”
The trio moved forward with caution while Simon and Lucian brought up the rear. “This looks like some sort of reception area. Could be someone’s office?” Eva pointed out.
Julian looked at the wall of televisions broadcasting crimes against humanity being committed all o
ver the world— simultaneously. But he stopped in his tracks as he stared at something hanging upon the wall on the other side of the room. “This is no office—it’s a portal to Hell—Lucifer’s own little personal entryway.”
“What—how do you know that?” Eva asked.
“Look at that mosaic—on the wall over there,” he said, pointing to the large pentagram on the wall with his barretta. Moving closer, he studied the artwork. “There are five cities named here and New York is at the very top. And look at this…” he said, indicating the city whose name was etched within the point on the right hand side of the symbol. “…Mumbai is here. That’s how he managed to get Dragone’s hordes back to Hell last year.”Julian explained to Eva.
Christoff, only half listening to Julian and Eva’s conversation, quickly scanned the room for any sign of trouble before moving towards an archway that led to a set of stairs. “You two hang back and keep watch,” he ordered Simon and Lucian. “Nothing gets by you—got it, Simon?”
The vampire nodded as he withdrew an ancient Assyrian dagger, a gift from Christoff. “We’ve got this, Christoff.”
“Good—Evangeline, my eyes are watering from the stench of dogs—can you tell where the humans are?”
Pointing towards the arch she replied, “Through there and down the steps.” She took the lead then, heading down the staircase. Reaching the bottom, her keen eyes scoured the cavernous—and still empty—room. Motioning with her head, she indicated a large open pit off to the right. Julian and Christoff nodded in agreement and the three of them headed off in that direction.
Suddenly Eva stopped, her head darting quickly from side to side as a sound caught her attention.
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