by J F Cain
“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding. So let’s all honor our alliance so that each one of us can get what they want. Together, we will plan an attack that will bring the Guardians, Exorcists, and anyone else who tries to defend the Angel to their knees. This time victory is ours,” she said, filled with conviction. “We’ll meet soon to map out our course of action,” she added, using the plural to appease her allies, who had suddenly found themselves in the inferior position of being mere agents in the entire affair. She aimed a triumphant smile at Lucard that enraged him and then vanished, feeling proud of herself.
A heavy silence fell upon the chamber. Everyone was considering the new conditions that Lyla had imposed. They had to find a way to deal with Abriel if, once their plan had been carried out, he decided to attack them with his battalions.
Lucard was pondering the plan he would be suggesting to the others, a plan which had some differences from his personal one. His dark resourceful mind quickly analyzed various likely actions until he found the solution. However, he had to work out the details in order to eliminate any aspect that might affect his personal aspirations. When he was ready, he would announce the plan to his allies. First, however, he would let them rack their brains.
He looked at Kochee and the other elders of his race who had their heads bent and were deep in thought.
Useless Eregkalian scum! You scheme and plot against me but you forget that without me you would have been lost long ago, he thought. Disgusted by their incompetence and ungratefulness, he looked away. “Have you learned anything else about the Dark Angel?” he asked the werewolves, breaking the brief silence that had fallen in the wake of Lyla’s departure.
His deep voice snapped the council members out of their thoughts. Everyone turned, almost as one, to look at him. They weren’t surprised by the change in subject. Even if Lucard hadn’t found the solution to the problem that had just arisen, he would pretend he had.
“No,” replied Galen. “Ever since they moved to the Guardian castle, they haven’t left it for even a moment. And we aren’t able to break the theurgists’ concealment grid. And of course no one can approach the castle because the Dark Angel will sense him.”
“We’ve had the same problems,” the vampire Maleth admitted reluctantly.
Because any information on the Dark Angel’s evolving powers was important and their scheme exceptionally difficult, everyone hoped that the other race would keep its promise and mention anything relevant that came to their attention. However, ever since Abaddon had gone to the castle, the Cursed had been unable to watch him. And the hope that one of the Archdemons would save them the trouble of discovering the Dark Angel’s hidden powers had proved futile. They had realized that Lyla had attacked him recently, so it must have been inside the castle. But they didn’t expect her to share her findings with them. Even so, her obvious relief that the Dark Angel couldn’t enter the Exorcists’ fortress made it clear to the Cursed that during the attack, Lyla had discovered that Abaddon would be difficult to deal with. And if one were to think that the Celestial had fought off the Demons’ attack—perhaps even Abriel and his warriors—with the help of a few Guardians, the conclusion one reached was especially worrying.
Lucard pursed his lips with displeasure.
“We have to find a way to watch him.” He wanted to be prepared for any eventuality. The fact that Abaddon couldn’t enter the Exorcists’ fortress didn’t make him a negligible consideration. He could cause Lucard problems even outside it.
“For the time being, there isn’t a way,” Galen replied. “The Guardians are on their guard. I assume that some of them are staying in one of the castle’s halls, with their bodies immobile and their spirits in the invisible world, so that they can constantly reinforce the energy grid.”
Lucard knew that. He had tried to break through the protective shield with his powerful magic and hadn’t succeeded. But he would never admit it.
“Are they that incompetent?” Saget inquired contemptuously. “We rarely go to the trouble ever since we created ours.”
“Their leader is trying to protect their precious Superior, but it looks like she doesn’t always get it right,” Setam said spitefully. “Who knows how many Guardians Lyla killed to force the Angel to dump her boyfriend.”
The envious Kochee didn’t miss an opportunity to insult Aranes.
“It was about time she stopped banging him. She’s about to give birth!”
“We’re going to show a little patience,” Aldard interrupted them, annoyed by their base behavior. “When the Angel goes to the Exorcists, the Dark Angel will be alone and will most likely leave the castle. Then we’ll be able to watch him freely. Although I don’t think it will be necessary. No matter how many powers he develops, I don’t think he will be able to split himself into thousands of entities to fight us.”
Harel, Namar’s accomplice in the scheme to overthrow Lucard, was smart enough to say little, especially in council meetings. But he would gladly make an exception for his former servant.
“Perhaps not, but there is no way he will let the loss of his family go unpunished,” he scathingly pointed out to Aldard.
“We definitely have to know what we’re dealing with,” Theray supported him, just to highlight the lack of intelligence of the werewolf who, in his opinion, wasn’t capable of considering all the plan’s facets.
“There is often an unbridgeable gap between what we want and what we can do,” Aldard replied coolly.
“The issue now is to find an immediate solution to the problem that has arisen,” Kochee pointed out and turned to look at the head of her race.
The underlying challenge behind her supposedly questioning gaze, which was demanding he prove himself worthy of his position, angered Lucard.
I’ll take care of you soon, he promised inwardly. “There’s nothing more to say for now,” he said aloud, his gaze passing over everyone, and stood up, putting an end to the emergency meeting.
Vampires and werewolves watched him leave the chamber, some of them taken aback by the sudden end. Those who knew the former Demon’s character didn’t wonder at his actions, and also didn’t doubt that he would soon call another meeting to announce his new plan. He couldn’t carry it out all on his own and besides their help, he also needed prey to sacrifice to his goal. But none of those present intended to help him out. Quite the opposite, if push came to shove, they were willing to offer him up as a scapegoat to appease their enemies.
Lyla erased the image of the council meeting from her urn’s surface and turned to leave, but stopped in surprise when she saw Abriel standing in front of her.
“When did I give you the right to speak on my behalf?” he asked, his voice harsh.
Lyla had never seen him irritated. His forbidding expression frightened her. She wasn’t prepared for this discussion and so blurted out the first thing that came to mind:
“Are you watching me all the time, Abriel?” she snapped.
Her unintentional confession was one more sign for the Sorcerer that her limited intellect could cost him dearly. He took a step forward, forcing her to retreat and bent over her, pinning her with a withering look.
“I asked you a question,” he said, his gaze threatening.
Stuck between the stone urn and his body, Lyla had tilted her head back and was glaring at him. The adage “the best defense is a good offense” had got her out of a tough spot many a time and she hoped it would do the trick now too.
“I didn’t speak on your behalf,” she replied, feigning annoyance. “I just reminded them who they’re dealing with.”
“By mentioning capabilities I don’t have,” Abriel rebuked her.
“Don’t you?” she challenged.
The Sorcerer’s eyes glinted with rage.
“I don’t care what you believe. Don’t put me on the spot again,” he said, his tone a clear warning.
Lyla realized she would have to change her offensive tactic to calm him, and she had to do
it quick.
“I don’t understand why you’re irritated,” she protested, looking bewildered. “I didn’t reveal anything big. You’re the protector of high magic and everyone assumes you have more abilities than them. You saw the Cursed. No one questioned it.”
Her excuse didn’t soothe Abriel’s anger in the least. His secret abilities were a serious matter for him. It was them he relied on to achieve his goal. Lyla kept on putting him on the spot and he had to shut her up one way or another.
“This is the last time I’m warning you. If you make the same mistake again, I won’t be so polite,” he said, the look on his face telling her he would have absolutely no problem keeping his word. He stepped away without taking his enraged gaze off her, then turned and headed for the door.
This got on the arrogant Succubus’s nerves. She couldn’t stand the recent reversal of the status quo in her relationship with the fallen. His indifference really bothered her, his encounter with Estaria even more, but going so far as to threaten her so coldly … that was more than she could tolerate.
“I’m not the one putting you on the spot, you’re doing it all by yourself,” she snapped resentfully at his departing back.
Abriel stopped and turned to look at her.
“Say what you want to say. I don’t have time to waste.”
“I bet that many are wondering, if they don’t already know, what Estaria had decided that you so ardently supported,” she replied, her eyes filled with envious hatred. Just as ardently as you banged her, you stupid cocksucker.
Abriel avoided answering and guided the discussion where it served him.
“So that’s the problem. It bothers you that I banged her and not you,” he said coldly.
“Did you put a lot of thought into it before reaching that conclusion or was it a lightbulb moment?” Lyla scoffed.
“Was it worse because she obviously satisfied me more than you?” Abriel continued undeterred. “I think I got it,” he added at once, preventing her from answering. “Your sick ego was wounded because I showed you that I’m not in love with you.”
Lyla was looking at him with strong indignation. The idea that she was jealous seemed stupid and repulsive to her.
“Next you’ll tell me that I’m in love with you. You forget that you’ve been begging to bang me for thousands of years.” And if I didn’t need you, I would never have let you.
“I remember it all perfectly, like the fact that you enjoyed it so much you’ve been begging me for a repeat ever since,” he retorted caustically.
Lyla just stood there staring at him in astonishment. She was dying to repay him for the insult, but after what she had done, she couldn’t afford to anger him further. She clenched her hands into fists and focused all her powers on keeping her mouth shut, an unbelievably difficult trial for her.
Abriel’s expression changed suddenly. Harshness and coldness blended disagreeably on his face.
“I’ll fuck you, if and when I want to,” he clarified and headed toward the door once more.
That was the last straw! The fury and jealousy that his stance had provoked in Lyla exploded out of her with all the tension she had kept bottled up inside.
“You can go fuck yourself!” she screeched in his direction. Enraged by his pointed indifference, she went on: “Or whatever bitch you want. I don’t give a damn!”
Before he reached the door, Abriel gave a mental command for it to open.
“I think it’s clear that I won’t be asking for your permission,” he replied calmly without turning to look at her and shut the door behind him.
The two bestial Fiends who guarded the personal chamber of the leader of the Incubi and Succubae had move one step away from their positions. Motionless as statues, they were gripping their upright spears nervously and gazing up at the ceiling with feigned indifference. Lyla’s violent outbursts were known throughout Eregkal and even the dumbest entities tried to stay away when they happened.
Abriel stopped between the frightened Fiends and waited to see how she would react.
Lyla didn’t carry on cursing. She had leaned against the urn’s edge, trembling with nerves, and was trying to regain her composure. The Sorcerer’s attitude confused her and drove her mad. But she believed that the annoyance she was feeling was because it would be difficult for her to achieve her goal without his help.
Abriel watched her from outside the door.
You’re starting to get the picture, he thought with a sense of deep satisfaction.
He left Lyla’s area and materialized in Beleth’s.
The Archdemon was taking a stroll beside one of the streams traversing her large copse. She had her hands crossed behind her back and was tapping them impatiently, while with every step she took her gauzy red veils parted, revealing her legs up to the thighs. The golden cobra on her shoulder concealed its menace behind a false motionlessness, diligently covered by her long hair. Beleth wanted to create a more feminine image that would make her more attractive to Abriel without having to part with her beloved weapon.
“You’re late,” she said blankly as soon as he appeared before her.
Abriel made a slight bow.
“I’m sorry if I made you wait. I had to take care of a serious matter.”
Beleth nodded with understanding.
If you hadn’t taken care of her the right way, I would be sending you back to the idiot right now, she thought to herself.
She checked to see if her other allies and Lucifer were still busy and resumed her stroll silently. She had been preparing for this meeting for some time, but she was still finding it difficult to say what was on her mind. It was the first time in her eternal life that she would be expressing her feelings to someone, and the worry that her confession would deprive her of some of her power made her agitated. For all self-interested beings—ethereal or other—erotic emotions were the best means of manipulation, and she didn’t want to fall prey to tactics she used herself. While the Sorcerer was the only one she trusted in Eregkal, she still didn’t trust him completely.
Abriel followed her soberly, keeping a loose grip on the wide leather strap across his torso that secured the silver pauldron on his shoulder and was attached to the metal belt around his waist.
“Are we waiting for the others?” he asked, although the sight of the cobra cowering beneath the Archdemon’s hair had already clued him in on the invitation’s purpose.
“No, I only invited you. We need to discuss a matter of extreme importance to both of us.”
Abriel was gazing at a jacaranda whose blue blossoms were mirrored in the stream’s waters.
“And what is that?”
The Archdemon shot him an expressive sideways glance.
“The protection and preservation of our existence.”
Abriel nodded in agreement.
“I’m listening.”
“As we both know very well, once the attempt is over, there will be conflict,” said Beleth, avoiding mentioning that the conflict would be among the allies who would be claiming the right to rule Eregkal. “I am certain that the others have ganged up against us. It was to be expected. We are the most powerful in the alliance. If they want any chance of success, they will have to unite to deal with us.”
“I don’t think we will get to that point,” Abriel remarked, meaning something completely different from what the Archdemon understood.
Unaware of his intentions, she turned and looked at him with an approving smile on her face.
“Your intelligence is one of the reasons I want you on my side,” she admitted. “But it isn’t the only one.”
“Is there another?” Abriel asked simply to be polite.
“You are the only one who has never shown any interest in gaining power and that makes you my only trustworthy ally,” Beleth answered, mentioning only the obvious reason that had led her to her decision. This would make it clear that, of the two of them, she would be the one in charge.
“I’m interested now,”
Abriel said, with a hint of challenge in his voice.
“Another one of your positive qualities is that you know if and when to go after something,” she stated.
Abriel paused, as if to think.
“Your regard honors me. But since you consider me so clever, I’m sure you’ll understand why I have some reservations about whether any bargain we make will be kept.”
Beleth stopped walking and turned to face him. Her face was no longer harsh. She looked almost as beautiful as she had been before the Fall.
“How can I convince you that I have no intention to harm you?” she asked sincerely.
Abriel felt pity for the former high Celestial who had hidden her despair at her fall behind a veil of hatred and had been living in it ever since, suppressing any other emotion. Even so, his pity wasn’t enough to make him tell her the truth.
“All you have to do is tell me the real reason,” he said, examining her face as if his decision on whether to trust her was riding on her answer.
It was obvious to the Archdemon that Abriel suspected what she felt and wanted to make sure of it. Her admission would make him feel safe and would show goodwill on her part. However, because for various reasons she couldn’t admit out loud that she was in love with him, she decided on a vaguer statement that would allow her some latitude if things didn’t go as she hoped.
“The real reason is you,” she said seriously, keeping her gaze steady on his.
Abriel’s eyes flashed with satisfaction and pride.
“Princess, that is a great honor!” he said, making a slight bow.
Beleth’s expression resumed its customary harshness.
“In return, I expect your devotion.”
“You will have it,” he assured her.
“I mean, total devotion,” the Archdemon clarified. Abriel might never reciprocate her feelings, but she wouldn’t allow him to have any other contact with a female in any world. He would be hers, and hers alone.
“That is precisely what I meant too,” he reassured her with a serious expression.
