Angel of Distrust

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Angel of Distrust Page 22

by Tabitha Barret


  Celaeno beamed with pride as she waddled closer to him. Gently placing his arms around her large, bulky body, he summoned his dagger to his hand and silently slid it between her ribs and into her heart. She jerked from the pain and looked up into his eyes in horror.

  “You have served me well,” Hades whispered again as he watched his faithful servant twitch in his arms. When her legs gave out, he carefully laid her on the ground and closed her eyes. Unconcerned about the Predznak’s opinion of him, he took a moment to reflect on everything she had done for him over the years as well as all the frustration and pain she had caused him. She was a monster, but she was his monster.

  “You have much to answer for,” Alazar said in a chilling tone.

  “Get us down,” Tristan mumbled weakly.

  Sighing, he waved his hand and moved Celaeno’s body out to the fields for burying. He wiped his blade on a patch of grass and slid it into the back of his khakis. He turned his attention to the sad lot before him and shook his head pitifully at them. “Michael, I summon you!” he shouted to the Heavens.

  When the Predznak looked like they would protest, he held up his hand to silence them.

  A confused Michael appeared a few moments later in his gleaming white tunic and glanced at Alazar, Tristan and Liam hanging in Celestial Bonds before addressing Hades.

  “Lord Hades, why have you called me to the Mortal Realm and why is the banished one here?” Michael asked tersely, pointing to Alazar.

  Hades was amused by the fact that Michael wasn’t interested in why two Predznak and one Nachtghul were in chains, but Michael was one for following the rules to the letter. Banishment would trump false imprisonment, at least in his mind.

  “I have a better question for you, Lord Michael. Why are we staring at a concussed werewolf, an Angel of Death who was caught off guard by a broken neck and above all else, why was a perfectly respectable suit ruined by a Celestial Sword when it was placed against Tristan’s collarbone? Which of your warriors is missing or refusing to report back to you? Which one snuck off to investigate the disappearance of the Destroyer by his or her lonesome?” Hades asked, his voice ringing with unspoken accusations.

  Michael looked like he wanted to refute the possibility of one of his angels turning against Heaven, but his eyes moved to examine Tristan’s neck.

  When Alazar looked like he would speak, Hades glared at him, hoping that he would hold his tongue. Blessedly, the Predznak remained silent.

  After a long pause, Michael’s shoulders slumped. “Demyan failed to relay Anjali’s disappearance to General Tabbris, as he was instructed. General Tabbris had no idea what was happening when he arrived in Heaven. No one has seen or heard from Demyan,” Michael admitted softly.

  Hades tried his best not to smile like a lunatic at the admission since it simplified his entire quandary. “Say the word and I will release Vaughn. The Höllenhund will hunt your warrior and bring him back for questioning. I will prepare the Hall of Mercy for his arrival. It is imperative that Vaughn locates Demyan before he harms the Destroyer,” Hades replied emotionlessly. He didn’t want to give Michael any reason to question his sudden concern for Lady Black.

  The color drained from Michael’s tanned face. He looked like he wanted to sink into a hole, but he again looked at the charred skin on Tristan’s neck. “Release the Höllenhund.”

  Hades nodded, but was careful not to celebrate just yet. He still needed to release the two unpredictable angels. Flicking his wrist, he carefully lowered the chains so he could reach their wrists and proceeded to unlock the Celestial Bonds. Concerned for his safety, he retreated toward Michael, who was lost in thought. He knew it was cowardly of him to run to Michael, hoping for his protection if the Predznak decided to seek retribution, but it was the best way to avoid a fight.

  Eying Alazar, he threw the Celestial Bonds at Michael. “These are yours. Mine are monogramed so I don’t lose them,” Hades said sarcastically.

  Michael stared down at the bonds in his hands as if they were foreign objects. On some level, Hades felt for Michael. It was difficult to lose a loyal angel, but it was the Council’s job to make sure that any Rogues were swiftly dealt with. This was one of the few rules that Michael and he agreed upon.

  Tristan, weak from his injuries, leaned against the barn door and cleared his throat. “I don’t think Demyan is lost yet, but he’s losing the battle. He could have killed us, but he didn’t. I believe he’s still trying to decide what he wants to do,” he said sympathetically.

  Michael looked up at Tristan, but his eyes settled on his wound. “I hope you’re right. I pray that he is able to come back from this, but we must prepare ourselves in the event that he makes the wrong choice,” he replied as he squared his shoulders and stood up straight. “Lord Hades, prepare the Hall of Mercy. I want to oversee the interrogation once Demyan is caught.”

  Hades shifted slightly. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I can report my findings to you instead,” he said, hoping to spare Michael from watching one of his warriors tortured for information. Michael had a strong stomach and steady nerves, but even he was known to allow his emotions to get in the way, especially if he felt guilty for somehow missing the signs of an angel turning evil or felt that he had somehow contributed to their downfall.

  Michael shook his head. “I need to know all the facts before we condemn him. I will send Lord Commander Marcus and his team to aid Vaughn in his search for Major Demyan,” he said with more authority than before.

  Hades held up his hand. “That is a terrible idea. Until we know if Demyan is working alone and understand his motivation for possibly going Rogue, the other warriors should remain in the dark. Demyan has been in your service for too many centuries. There will be unrest if the others believe Demyan is being falsely accused. Do not inform them until you have proof and a verdict in hand,” he said rationally. He didn’t need a feud between the warriors if some believed Demyan was guilty and the others believed he was innocent.

  Alazar cracked his neck and stepped forward. “I agree with Hades. Instead of trying to rescue Anjali, the warriors may see her as the cause of Demyan’s downfall and try to harm her. I’ve seen it happen to the mortals. Instead of condemning the sinner, they condemn the person they think is responsible for them turning toward sin.”

  Tapping his foot, Michael frowned at Alazar. “Fine. I will inform only General Tabbris and Lord Commander Marcus and swear them to secrecy. They are trustworthy and know how to handle situations such as this. The warriors will continue their search for Anjali as Vaughn hunts Demyan. Tell the Höllenhund to hurry,” he said to Hades.

  Hades nodded and watched Michael disappear from the compound. He counted a full three seconds before Alazar opened his mouth.

  “There are times when I admire your ability to deflect any and all blame from yourself. I always wondered how you managed to survive this long with the Council breathing down your neck, looking for any excuse to send you to the Hall of Shadows, coupled with Lucifer periodically losing control of his anger and trying to kill you. Endurance is only a small part of who you are—intelligence, deceitfulness and the ability to watch others take the fall round out your other stellar attributes. While I appreciate your assistance in killing Celaeno before she tried to eat us and finding a way to make Michael condemn his own angel by agreeing to hunt Demyan, I must know what you want from us in return, aside from the obvious answer of keeping your Harpy a secret,” Alazar said curiously.

  Scrubbing his aching eyes, Hades reflected on the disastrous morning before looking up to address Death. He didn’t want any misunderstandings between them. “Everything I have done since stepping forward to become the Angel of Punishment, I have done to carry out Father’s will. I do not claim to be innocent of sin, but I do not regret anything I have done, save one thing. I never asked Zeus for the Harpies; in fact, I begged him to take them back. He refused, so I did the best I could with the vicious flesh eating monsters that had no remorse for their deeds.
Their only redeeming quality was their unwavering devotion. You don’t know how many times I wished for their deaths, but was unable to carry out the task. I regret not killing them, but I did my part to secure the safety of the mortals by keeping Celaeno busy over the years. Now that Celaeno is dead, I will consider the issue of my harboring a harpy a closed subject, unless you wish me to tell everyone I have ever met or will ever meet how a Celestial Warrior got the drop on two of the deadliest angels in existence, as well as one of Fenris’ former Drei. I suggest that you send Liam and Tristan back to Hell so that they may recover from their wounds, because you have a Destroyer to find,” Hades said dismissively.

  Alazar nodded at his reply, but true to his nature, he couldn’t let it go. “What exactly are you doing here? You left Hell without a word and the next time I see you, you are killing your Harpy. I have a feeling she didn’t summon you because it took too long for you to get your ass here. I know you’re hiding something. I’ll let it pass for now, but you will tell me where you went after you left Hell,” he smirked, implying that he would get the answer out of him regardless of the means used to obtain the information.

  Grinding his teeth, Hades glared at Alazar. “I do not answer to a banished angel. You are lucky that Michael didn’t kill you on sight. If I were you, I would find your master as soon as possible and clear up your reasons for your banishment before Demyan finds her. I will send Vaughn after him, but I swear to Heaven above, Alazar, you had better find Demyan first. You make sure that he understands that no one threatens to kill a Head of Hell,” he sneered.

  Alazar’s smirk shifted into the cold, haunting look of a Predznak willing to kill anyone who harmed his master, regardless of the issues between them. As much as he hated Alazar, he liked the idea of being on the same side during this disaster.

  Alazar turned to scoop Liam off the ground. He motioned for Tristan to leave and waited for a moment. He finally turned to Hades and winked at him. “I won’t mention how you reek of Tequila and how ridiculous you look in those khakis, if you don’t mention to Anjali that I had my neck broken.” With that, Alazar and Liam disappeared.

  Hades rolled his eyes. He knew the bastard would never let this go. Alazar was stubborn enough to wait until Deception was found and force Sacha to pry the truth from his lips.

  Rubbing the back of his skull with his fingertips, he turned to find the ideal place to bury Celaeno.

  ∞

  Alazar arrived in the Hall of Mirrors with Liam in his arms and walked past Tristan who was leaning against Calin, headed toward the rotunda.

  “Please tell me Liam’s still breathing.” Calin shouted as he turned with Tristan to glare at Alazar. “We could have helped you if we had been allowed to leave here.”

  Alazar frowned. “Yes, he’s still alive, but he’ll need to rest. He’ll have a brutal headache when he wakes. Have Derick tend to him and make sure he stays in bed until he’s ready to fight,” Alazar ordered. “As far as leaving is concerned, protecting Hell is more important than protecting us. You will continue to do as you’re told.”

  “I don’t take orders from you,” Calin sneered.

  Alazar knew he would get resistance from Calin, but he wasn’t in the mood for it. “Look, I don’t care what you think of me. We have an enemy hunting our master and we are down two fighters. Get in my way and there will be one less able-bodied person to fight on our team,” he said, allowing his emotions to get the better of him. He wasn’t mad at Calin; he was mad at himself for allowing this to happen because he had been banished.

  Derick entered the Hall of Mirrors from the doorway behind the dais and took Liam from Alazar. “I’ll get him settled, while Calin gets Tristan in bed,” he said, ignoring the tension in the air.

  Calin opened his mouth to argue, but Tristan groaned. Calin scowled at Alazar and turned around to get Tristan to his room.

  Tristan lifted his head to look at Calin. “Don’t be mad at him, Calin. We’ve had a shitty day and we are no closer to finding Anjali. We need to work together,” Tristan mumbled.

  Calin sighed and looked at Alazar’s reflection in the far mirror. “Tell me whose ass I need to kick.”

  Alazar nodded at Calin, understanding that he was willing to look past the banishment issue to save Anjali. “Demyan is our target and possibly Haydn. I’m going to confer with Balthazar to form a plan of action. Get Liam on his feet as fast as possible. Be ready because we are going out in force once everyone is able,” he said menacingly.

  Calin smirked and nodded at him.

  Leaving Liam in Derick’s capable hands, Alazar headed off to his least favorite place in Hell, The Throne Room. He walked through the rotunda and headed toward the walkway. He was pissed that Demyan had the nerve to attack him. They had once been friends, or least close acquaintances, before he became a Predznak. The warriors had looked to him for inspiration before their battles. Now, he was nothing more than an enemy standing in Demyan’s way. As far as he was concerned, Demyan had started a war with the Predznak.

  He tripped to a halt when he realized that he was imagining himself leading the charge against Demyan and anyone threatening to harm his master. Was he ready to commit himself to Anjali and be her Predznak? The anger burning in his chest seemed to be onboard with that plan, but the cold spot in his stomach was still unsure. Damn it, why was this so hard?

  He rubbed his forehead and swore at his indecisiveness. He was allowing his fear to make the decision, or rather, not make the decision. What the fuck was wrong with him?

  Hissing out a breath through his teeth, he made his way into the Throne Room. He stopped short when he saw Balthazar sitting on the Skull Throne along with Malcolm and Mark, their Heavenly Liaison. Dorian and Vincent saw him first and openly gawked at him. A new servant standing alone on the far side of the dais looked at him indifferently. It was strange feeling like an outsider when he was finally coming to terms with living in Hell.

  Malcolm and Mark turned when they saw Balthazar look up. The confusion on Malcolm’s face was acceptable given the situation. However, he had not anticipated Mark’s rage.

  “What do you think you are doing here, Alazar? You have been banished by your Master. I know you have never been one to adhere to the rules, but this is a blatant violation of Anjali’s edict. I am well within my right to call upon the Celestial Warriors to take you into custody,” Mark said boldly. He had never seen Mark so upset before, not even while dealing with Lucifer and Hades’ insanity.

  He held up his arms in surrender. He considered telling him about Demyan but he was afraid that the blabbermouth would sound the alarm that Demyan was a possible Rogue.

  “I came to search for my Master. You can’t stop me from doing that. Only she can call for my arrest,” he lied. He knew the law wasn’t on his side, but he hoped that Balthazar would help him.

  Mark stared at him in disbelief. Apparently, his bold lie might get him arrested faster than disobeying a direct edict from his master. He looked to Balthazar for help, but the bastard winked at him. He was enjoying Alazar’s discomfort. He wanted to flip him off, but assumed that disrespecting the acting Head of Hell wouldn’t help his case.

  Mark regained his composure and squared his shoulders. Alazar understood the look of determination on Mark’s face. Mark was about to squeal on him.

  Holding out his hand, Alazar stepped forward, “Wait, don’t call for the warriors. There is Rogue among them and if you call them, you will ruin everything. Lord Hades and Lord Michael are already aware of the issue and Vaughn has been called upon to hunt the Rogue,” he said in a rush, hoping that he could stall Mark.

  Mark looked to Balthazar for confirmation of Alazar’s wild accusation, but Balthazar was unaware of the happenings in the last few hours. “How do I know that you are not lying?” Mark asked incredulously.

  “I will not reveal the name of the warrior, but you can take a look at Tristan’s wound. I’m sure you will recognize the burn mark from a Celestial Sword,” Alazar frowne
d.

  Mark turned green at the mention of the burn mark.

  “Tell me what happened,” Balthazar growled. He was gripping the skulls on the throne, threatening to break them.

  Alazar quickly explained what happened, leaving out Demyan’s name and the fact that his neck had been snapped. He also left out the part where Hades killed Celaeno.

  Mark quieted down, but grew even paler at the thought of a Celestial Warrior turning rogue.

  Balthazar was furious and barely in control, while Malcolm appeared concerned.

  “I’m not able to leave Hell, but I wish that I could assist you in searching for Lady Black,” Malcolm said sincerely.

  Alazar nodded, grateful for Malcolm’s support. “Lord Hades promised Lord Michael he would release Vaughn,” he said, motioning to Hades’ throne. “I’m not sure why he’s been delayed, but we should summon Vaughn.” Alazar assumed that Hades was taking time to mourn his harpy after his uncharacteristic display of emotion for the monster.

  Malcolm turned to bow to Balthazar. “With your permission, I will send Vaughn on the hunt.”

  “Wait,” Mark said, regaining his voice. “How do we know that Alazar is speaking the truth?” he asked suspiciously.

  Alazar was pissed that Mark was questioning him, until he remembered that he was one step away from being a Forgotten Angel. He finally glared at Balthazar, who was enjoying this display entirely too much.

  Rising from the Skull Throne, Balthazar fanned out his long duster behind him. “I believe Alazar is telling the truth.”

  Alazar relaxed his shoulders at Balthazar’s statement, though he was still concerned that Mark would summon the warriors to take his head for disobeying Anjali’s order. He was about to address Mark’s concerns and talk his way out of a beheading, as he told Tristan he would, but his windpipe was suddenly being crushed. His body was thrown down onto the unyielding marble floor and his head roared with pain upon contact. Expected to look up into Lucifer’s black eyes, he was startled to find bright blue eyes glaring at him.

 

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