My Lord's Judgment

by Taylor Law

  He couldn’t keep it in anymore, so he joined in, chortling along. He knew he looked outrageous, and the whole situation was so bizarre, there really was nothing else to do but laugh.

  He didn’t remember the last time he had let himself go like this. It felt… good. Freeing. Fun.

  After several long moments – when they’d both calmed enough to function – they entered the store, heading straight toward the shoes.

  ****

  That was the best shopping trip Bran could ever remember having. He couldn’t recall ever having so much fun just buying clothes. They joked, poked fun at each other, pushed one another around, and just had a grand old time.

  He would never in his life, forget Samael in that outfit. He should have taken a photo. The man was so big, so strong and manly, that he looked even more insane because if it. There’s Sam, all sexy combination of GQ and WrestleMania, dressed in an outfit that says ‘hand-me-downs from my trailer trash little sister.’ And when he walked, shuffling his feet, trying not to fall over…. Oh god. He still had to chuckle every time he pictured it. Bran’s mind drifted between thinking of Tommy Boy, ‘Big man in a little coat,” and Samael wearing a belly shirt, dancing around and singing, “It’s raining men.”

  It was just too much! He thought he was going to die laughing.

  When they finally made it to the clothing department, Sammy had made sure to point out that he liked color in his wardrobe, gesturing to the all-black outfit Bran was rocking and making a funny face. In response, Brandon picked out a flowery, colorful Hawaiian shirt and handed it to him. This was quickly tossed back, only to land on his head.

  He had thought about bringing Sam to his favorite store, Hot Topic, just to see his face, but they really didn’t have that kind of time today. The idea of Samael wearing guyliner, in a spiked dog collar, and with a pair of fingerless gloves, made Bran want to purr. Not that he’d go for it.

  It was just an all-around great day.

  Sammy was now garbed in jeans and a blue t-shirt that made his eyes stand out, because Bran needed another reason to be drawn into them. Not.

  They had brought the bag with the remainder of the new clothes back to his car, picked up Sam’s knife - because no one can go anywhere without a shiny, bejeweled gold dagger, of course - and went to the coffee shop to get some lunch. They were sitting outside now, munching on some sandwiches and talking like old friends.

  Brandon had heard about this phenomenon – where you meet someone and immediately feel like you’ve known that person forever - but he thought it was a bunch of bull. Now that it was happening to him, it was surreal.

  “So, your father disowned you?”

  “Pretty much, yes.” Samael looked sad.

  “Why? I mean, I know that stuff happens sometimes, but why did he go to that extreme.” There had to be more to the story.

  Samael was silent for a few minutes, but he seemed to be thinking, so Brandon waited patiently.

  The man finally did answer, but seemed to choose his words very carefully. “Well. My… brother. He did some horrible things, and blamed me for them.”

  “And your dad believed him.” It wasn’t really a question, but Sam answered anyway.

  “Yes, and before I knew it, I was disavowed and removed with nothing to my name.”

  “That’s really harsh.” And it was. I mean, jeeze. He could have at least let the guy take some clothes or something with him.

  “Yeah, well, sometimes my Father can be … stringent.” Samael looked wary. “He always has his reasons though, even if he is not always forthcoming with them.” There was something Samael wasn’t saying, Brandon knew it. He didn’t think the man was lying to him, just not giving all the deets. That was okay, though. He had some crap in his past that he didn’t really want aired, in all its stinking misery. So, he got it.

  He did feel like he owed Sam something. After all, he did open up. This was no longer generic conversation, about books and music and such. This was personal, and deserved a bit of the same in return.

  “I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. My mom died when I was ten.” He glanced up at his companion. “Car crash. I wound up in foster care. The good thing is my foster parents sent me to college, and helped me get scholarships to pay for it. Then they were gone. They’d done their duty. The rest of it…well…” Brandon focused on his half-eaten sandwich again, pulling it apart.

  “Not so good, eh?”

  He shrugged. “I lived.”

  “What about your father? Why did he not take custody of you?” Samael sounded concerned. It was … nice.

  “I don’t know who he is, never met him.” Bran tried to give Sam a smile, and knew it fell flat. It sucked not having a dad. Sucked even more the way people treated him sometimes because of it. Like his mom was some kind of whore or something, and then after her death, like a nobody.

  “I suppose everyone has their own story, huh?” Sam gave him a smile back, and then froze. His eyes had flickered over Bran’s shoulder, and then flew back and stayed. He was just staring at something.

  Brandon turned to look, and before he knew what was happening Samael was running past his field of vision, chasing some guy. The stranger glanced back, and saw the big man barreling toward him. His eyes widened, and he took off, pushing people out of his way and jumping over bags and chairs, knocking a few over in the process. He threw down a trash can behind him as he ran, trying to block the oncoming train that was Samael. Sam just followed, dodging and weaving, trying to avoid the obstacles in his path.

  Bran didn’t know when he’d gotten up, but he was running in the same direction, tagging along behind some distance. He wasn’t as good at avoiding things, and he stumbled a few times, murmuring apologies at the irritated onlookers that he past. He turned the corner just in time to see Sam throw the man against the side of the building, behind the air conditioning unit that hid them from their hips down. Samael had wedged his forearm up against the man’s neck and had the gold dagger up to the stranger’s jugular.

  “What are you doing here, Levi?” Sam growled at the man. Brandon slowed his pace and walked closer, enthralled at the situation. It was like a car accident. He had to watch, couldn’t look away.

  The stranger had long, greasy brown hair, and was lanky. He was small compared to Sammy, and his eyes looked…dead.

  “Ah, Sam old friend. How’s it hangin’?” Instead of looking scared, the man just grinned.

  Samael lifted his arm away from the neck it had been attached to, and used his whole body to thrust it back again, making the man choke. “Answer me! What are you doing here, Levi? Who sent you?”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” He practically sang through the rasp in his voice caused by the pressure on his larynx. “You know I can’t tell you that. You’re not involved anymore, on either side. Too bad. We could have used you, if you hadn’t been so damn stubborn.” The dude was still smirking, an evil impersonation of a smile, even though his voice sounded…well, strangled.

  “You’re following me. In my book, that makes it my business. This is the second time today that I’ve seen you. The first time, I blew off as happenstance. It is not going to happen again!” Samael was pissed. Bran could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears. He pushed the knife more firmly against the man’s neck, drawing blood. “We are going to have a serious situation here, if you don’t start talking.”

  The stranger let out a breathy laugh, but started looking more wary. “You can’t kill me, Sam. You know you can’t.”

  Now Samael grinned. “Really? Take a look at the dagger in my hand, and then say that again.”

  The man did as he was told, and his eyes practically popped out of his head. Hands up in the air in a pacifying gesture, he tried once more. “Come on man. You know the rules. You know I’m not supposed to say anything to you anymore.”

  When Sam just pushed on the man harder, he closed his eyes and seemed to surrender. Gadreel.” He said in a choked whisper. “Gadreel sent me
to watch you. Before you ask, I don’t know why. He didn’t tell me shit, probably in case something like this happened.” He coughed before looking back up at his captor, this time pleading. “I’m just supposed to watch and report back, that’s all. I swear, man. I swear.”

  The stranger’s eyes flicked to Brandon and his face followed, that evil sneer back in place. “You!” He let out a rough, nasty laugh. “Oh, this is rich. Just rich.”

  Samael glanced at Bran too, and in that split second of lost concentration, Sam wound up sprawled on the pavement. The movement was too fast to see. When Bran focused back on the stranger, he looked different. He was bigger. Much bigger. His shirt was gone, his body and facial features slightly changed …oh, yeah, and he had wings. Great big, black-as-midnight wings that stretched out, fanning the air and giving the man lift. When he was a few feet off the ground, he grinned at Bran and said, “Your father is coming to get you.” Then he was gone.

  Everything started to fade; clouds and floaters disrupted his vision, getting whiter and whiter and whiter, until Bran had to sit down. He could hear someone talking to him from very far away, and then nothing.

  ****

  Chapter 5

  Samael had known that he wouldn’t be able to hold Levi once he’d broken his restraint. Given time to change back into demon form, there was nothing to be done. The only reason he was able to trap him in the first place was because he was bigger and stronger in human form, and there had been too many people around for Levi to shift out in the open. Once he’d freed himself, he’d changed and Sam didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of stopping him.

  That he had a Demon Dagger had given him some assistance in the matter. They were deadly to human and demon alike. Blessed by God Himself, the nifty things worked better than holy water on a vampire. If Sam’s grip would have slipped just a bit, gone just a little deeper, the demon would’ve been no more. However, he hadn’t intended to kill…yet. He just wanted to know what was going on. Why was Gadreel having him followed? What the hell had that scum meant by Brandon’s father?

  Speaking of the little imp, he was out for the count, head resting on Sam’s lap. He’d seen Bran plop down on his butt, eyes all glassy and dazed, and knew he was shutting down. The human mind had huge potential for greatness, but it could only take so much before it needed to take a breather. Like a computer with an error. Reboot. Restart. Let’s try that again. He didn’t know what had done it for Brandon, the father comment or the huge demon flying above him.

  He was going with the demon. Wings had a tendency to startle a man.

  Sam gently slapped his face, saying his name again. “Wakey, wakey, Sunshine.”

  Brandon sat up straight as a board, looked at Samael, searched around and then had a bit of a moment.

  “Ohmygod, ohmyfucking God! Wings. That man had wings. He said… he… My father? Flew away. The fucker flew! What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On?” Bran’s eyes were huge in his face and he was panting as if he’d run a marathon. If Sam did not defuse the situation quickly, he was going to hyperventilate and lose consciousness again.

  “Hey, it’s okay. You are safe. It’s ok…”

  “Nothing about this is okay, asshole.” the human interrupted. He was looking around like a horse ready to bolt, eyes rolling in his head and all.

  “Calm down and I shall explain.” Sam grabbed his arm. “Bran, if you do not calm yourself, you are going to pass out again. Breathe. That’s it. Deep slow breaths. Good, that’s good.”

  Brandon wrenched away. “Stop babying me, and start talking. Now.”

  “Alright, just try to stay calm.” The glare he was shot was sharper and more deadly than the Demon Dagger.

  Samael took a deep fortifying breath himself, let it out in a huff and talked. He told Bran about angels and demons, Heaven and Hell; explained to him about the war that had been raging for millennia. Confessed who he was, and in detail retold the story he’d given the man earlier about what happened to him, including the fact that Gadreel wasn’t really his brother, but a fellow angel.

  He was surprised it went as well as it did. Brandon just sat there staring at him, as if he had grown a second head. One with nice shiny horns on top.

  He disclosed everything he could think of, rambling at some points, sometimes veering sharply off one subject to start another, just letting it all come out the way it would. Allowing the chips to fall where they may. He hadn’t been fearful of much in his long life, he’d had no need; but he was afraid now.

  It was more than a fear of being alone, although that was there too. He was scared that Brandon would get hurt, and he just…wanted him. He wanted to be in his life, needed to feel his acceptance. No one had ever received him that way before, and he would be devastated to lose it now.

  Bran made things exciting. He was considerate and selfless, almost to a fault. He had undeniable spirit. He was good and kind, sweet and funny, and Sam was very attracted to him, inside and out. More than all of that, Bran really saw him and seemed to approve of what he’d seen. Samael could not imagine having to dwell on Earth knowing Brandon, but unable to be around him. Not speak to him. Never to touch him again.

  The idea was killing him.

  Finally, he stopped. He’d told his Little Raven all he could. Now it was up to him.

  Brandon was staring at his fingers, which were laced in his lap. Folding and unfolding them repeatedly. Sam could see the wheels turning in his head, so he allowed him to think. Just sitting there quietly, awaiting another judgment. Not knowing what would come. When Bran finally spoke, it was so soft Sam had to strain to hear.

  “You know, about a half an hour ago, if you would’ve told me all of that, I would’ve laughed in your face. I would never have believed it.” He glanced up, his eyes half hidden behind his hair. “Seeing a man sprout wings and fly away has a way of changing things, I guess.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. Then he was quiet again for a few moments, gazing into the distance.

  “Maybe I’ve gone crazy,” he whispered finally. He turned back to Samael, giving him that look that he had come to cherish. The one that only Brandon had ever gifted him. “Call in the white coats and get me a strait jacket, because I think…I think, I believe you. I want to believe you, Sammy.”

  Samael’s shoulders slumped in relief. He grabbed Brandon’s hand and squeezed. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, so he looked away, sniffed hard and blinked a couple of times – getting himself under control.

  “Thank you, My Little Raven,” he said, gruffly. “Thank you.”

  ****

  Bran knew he was giving his trust away too easily again. He knew it was stupid, and probably setting him up for a nice tasty helping of crap, but he wanted to believe in Sam. So, he was taking the leap of faith, hoping at the end that he wouldn’t find a bed of nails.

  “So, who was that guy?” Brandon asked.

  “That was Leviathan, the demon of envy. He goes by the name Levi in human form. He’s one of Gadreel’s cronies.” There was something in Sammy’s eyes when he talked about this Gadreel guy. Something dark and dangerous, that Bran didn’t want to look at too closely.

  “But I thought…I thought that Satan controlled the demons?” he said in confusion. Nothing about this made sense. Not that Brandon was a big theology buff, but a lot of what Sam had told him didn’t mesh with what he’d heard over the years.

  “Yeah. Sometimes, but at other times they do things for themselves, or for their friends or allies. Think about it like this: when someone employs you, they are your boss. Your employer gives you assignments during certain times of the day. Your free time is yours, and you may spend it doing things you enjoy, or helping your friend move, whatever you wish. That’s basically how demon structure functions. Satan will give them assignments. Once completed, they can do whatever they wish to do.”

  “Oh.” Okay. Bran got that. That Levi guy was doing a friend a favor during his ‘time off.’ That favor just happened to be spying on Samael.r />
  “What did he mean….about my father?”

  “I do not know.” Samael’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough though.”

  That was true. If what Levi said was right, then his father was coming for him. Whatever the hell that meant.

  “What now?” He hoped Sammy had a plan, because he was lost in la-la-lupty-land. Trying to get his bearings in this new world that had opened up to him was taking all his brain activity.

  “Now? We shall go visit your Ex, and try to talk him out of some money.” Sam said decisively. “Anything else, we’ll deal with as it comes.”

  “Okay.” Bran nodded and stood. “Okay.” His legs were wobbly and he felt as if the ground kept shifting on him, like in the funhouse at the fair. He took a step and stumbled, falling. Before he could catch himself, he was aware of strong arms wrapping around him, leaning him on a wide, muscular chest. He looked up and right into the dark blue abyss that was Samael’s eyes.

  “I’ve got you.” Sammy said softly. “I will not allow you to fall.”

  Brandon shifted his gaze to Sam’s firm, masculine lips, which were getting ever closer. He leaned up to meet them, finally kissing the most fascinating man he’d ever met.

  Of course, he’s fascinating. He’s an angel. Or was an angel. Or…huh?

  When their mouths met, it was electric. It was barely skin on skin, it was so gentle, but it was as if one of them had walked across carpet with slippers on and then touched metal. He was shocked, but it was so good that Bran let out a guttural moan and every thought that had been floating through his brain went away. There was nothing but Sammy and this kiss.