Now a young woman with the awareness of her dark birthright stood with them ready to join the battle. Diane watched her niece bloom before her eyes. The precocious little girl who’d always loved everyone without reservation had grown up. She’d matured in a harsh realm, under the guidance of one of the most cunning and ruthless immortals to ever inhabit Unearth. Heart, intelligence, fire, and a wicked birthright, it was a hell of a combination.
“Attempt?” The red-winged demon continued to cackle his amusement. “There was no attempt, my dear. I bedded those whores thoroughly. I bred the strongest demons born in millennia. They’ll be baptized by the cold fires, trained, and under my control in no time. We all know how quickly mortal time passes. In the blink of an eye they’ll be mature enough to lead armies.”
Diane saw the truth in her niece’s face. The story was written in her eyes for those who had the will to see it. Something dreadful happened to Alia, and Diane never had the slightest idea. Her heart ached for the remarkable young woman who looked at Belial like as if he were no more than a pesky fly on the wall. She knew her girl, and she was honest to a fault. Belial was in trouble.
“Your spawn, as you called them, now have the Fates’ blessing. All of the babes you sired will be born mortal women. They will be the definition of compassion, strength, and intelligence. Their path will not be easy, but they will walk it to the very end and prevail against a wretched evil. And you will have no part in their future whatsoever.”
Chills covered Diane from head to toe as she watched Alia standing with her sleep-tousled hair and silly pink, skull-and-crossbones pajamas, spinning her first prophecy as if it were child’s play. The light of her eyes darkened in color and brightened in intensity.
Her heart bled for the women and their daughters whose paths lay stretched out in front of them, filled with darkness and despair. It was a devastating reminder of how life could be so unfair to even the unborn.
* * * *
The concern on Diane’s face kicked him in the gut. One of the kindest souls he’d ever met, he suspected she feared for the toils that lay ahead for Belial’s unborn victims. If only there was something he could do to ease her pain and theirs. But he was the nothing more than a Soul Runner. What did he know about women and…love?
Absolutely nothing, and it wasn’t time to fight his personal demons.
He forced his attention back to Belial just in time to see a black shadow, no larger than a bird, flicker over Belial’s face. The small, dark specter quickly dissipated, but in its wake a familiar symbol marked the demon’s forehead. Never in his life had Azrael been so thankful to see the hallowed death stamp. The timeless symbol spelled out Belial’s time of death and the method. The Kor had spoken, and the demon’s fate was sealed.
* * * *
Diane looked over at Azrael just in time to see a primal sneer of male satisfaction light up his face. What did he know? Had he seen something she’d missed?
A lighthearted sigh whispered behind her. Surprised to hear such a happy sigh in the midst of madness, she turned to watch Alia open her arms and shyly whisper to an invisible form.
“Hi, Daddy, I missed you.” Her slender arms wrapped tightly as if they were around an invisible tree, and she craned her neck to look up as a shadowy form slowly appeared within her embrace. The large, shadowy phantom held her tightly and placed a large knuckle under Alia’s little chin as he completely manifested in her arms.
Lucifer, with his fiery copper hair blowing unnoticed in the breeze, towered above his small daughter. Resonating royal authority and strength, he held her as if she were the crown’s most precious jewel. Dressed in soft leather pants, an enormous leather duster, and black boots the size of boats, the crowned ruler of Hell was putty in her small hands.
“You should have come to me. You know that.”
“I had a part to play in this, and I couldn’t walk away. You know I always follow through. You taught me that’s how great rulers keep their crown.”
“Somebody hurt you. I can see it in your eyes and can tell that it was no small amount of pain. Who do I kill for breaking your heart?” The fires of Hell burned in his dark eyes.
“Nobody. You mind your own business and leave me to mine. Is Mom okay?” Alia tried to pull her chin from her father’s gentle grasp with the small lie, but her father held her firmly in his soft grip.
“Your mother is fine. Her only worry is for your safety.” Alia arched an eyebrow at her father for his lie. “Okay, she’s also worried that you’ll be mad at her and won’t come back home.”
“Daddy, it’s complicated, and I promise we’ll talk later. Don’t you think there are more important things to worry about?” With a childlike grin, Alia tilted her head toward their audience.
“Nothing is more important than your well-being. You know that. Please tell me you knew I wouldn’t let the mating with Belial happen?”
“Of course. I just didn’t want you mad at Mom.”
“I may get mad at your mother and tire of her mad schemes, but I will never tire of her. You should know this.” With an indulgent sigh, Lucifer leaned in to give his daughter a kiss on the cheek.
“Ahem. Hello, I hate to interrupt the touching scene, but it really is time that I take my bride and leave. I have a mating to consummate.”
Diane flinched in startled amazement. Was Belial really that stupid?
“Baby, is he really that stupid?”
“I’m afraid so. I warned him, but he didn’t listen.” Alia and Lucifer spoke as if Belial was no threat. Diane watched comprehension leach into Belial’s face.
Lucifer released his daughter and herded her behind him with one arm. “Azrael, do you mind?”
“Not at all. He has your name written all over him. Literally.” Azrael stood with his arms crossed as if he didn’t have a care in the world. A triumphant smirk marked his face.
Some sort of unspoken communication passed between the two males. In a tandem move, so fast they were little more than dark blurs of shadow, Lucifer and Azrael jumped across the large room as if it were nothing but a small puddle. Before either one set foot upon the floor, Azrael had the neck of one of the guards firmly within his arms. He gave it a sharp, short twist, and before the others could blink, the beast was no more than a sack of flesh lying on the floor.
A blast of white heat shot from Lucifer’s left hand and speared another of the demons in the chest. She blinked in the flash, and when she opened her eyes the gray demon was nothing but a few pieces of ash flitting in the air. Their heavy boots touched the ground silently.
All this and Belial hadn’t even managed to blink once. Diane almost felt sorry for him.
Not.
Azrael brought his great wings in closer to his body and stood as if frozen in time. The two Rimmon standing closest to him conjured ugly, black weapons dripping with brown oil. The one on his left held a great battle axe, the one on his right a long, coiled whip.
The three combatants stood frozen, brutally aware of each other, but focused on the drama unfolding elsewhere.
Alia moved up to stand by her side. She leaned in close and Diane placed an arm around her shoulders, but her little niece had not come to seek comfort, but to offer it.
“Don’t worry. All will be well.”
“I’m not worried about Azrael or your father. They can obviously handle their own battles. I just wish there was something I could do for the women and their babes.”
“And I’m not worried about my favorite aunt. I know you’ll think of something.” There was that odd note in Alia’s voice again. In just a short time Diane had come to learn that it meant somehow, against the odds, Alia was forecasting. Alia’s confidence in her was flattering, but it wouldn’t help those women.
“I’m your only aunt, princess.” A balm to her soul, their familiar routine eased a fraction of her worry.
“You’ll think of something.” Alia rubbed circles on her back. Damn, her little girl had grown so fast, and she was i
mmortal. How could she help mortals who would be grown in two blinks of her eye? Her mind raced to find the answer. There had to be a way to find and help those women.
“Luc, my friend, you know I need to cement my claiming to your daughter. The law states it must be completed before the last sliver of moon fades out of the current cycle. All that’s left is a minute sickle. That only gives me one full day to woo her. The sooner I get started, the better it will be for all.” Belial, with his gorgeous looks and wannabe heartthrob persona, stood there with all seriousness written across his face. He was willing Lucifer with all of his charm to see his fine logic.
“Belial, my friend.” The last two words were barely more than a deep rumbling growl. The echoes of Lucifer’s deep hatred for the psychotic demon vibrated through the floor. “There are a couple of problems with your claim.” Lucifer sneered through the last word as if it were blasphemy. “You should read up on your demon laws next time. The law states that if a claiming is not consummated before the last of the sickle moon fades from the sky, it is void. You misunderstand the meaning of this. Number one, if there is no consummation, then there is no claiming, period. You have no rights beyond that.
“Number two, the moon is another important key. Do you not remember who holds dominion over the moon and its cycles? My wife, who is the mother of the very same girl who you are trying to steal, happens to have the dark side of the moon within her grasp. Her twin sister, who loves Alia like her own, has the moon’s white light within her grasp. Between the two of them, if they wanted, they could not only halt the moon’s cycle where it stands, they could easily run it forward in the blink of an eye or turn it backward. And don’t think for a moment either one wouldn’t turn the world upside down for Alia.”
A silly little grin spread across Alia’s pixie face as if she held a great secret. “Dad, don’t forget number three. There can’t be a claiming if there isn’t a groom.” Confusion filled Belial’s face.
“I really had hoped this would be more of a fight, Azrael.” Genuine disappointment showed on Lucifer’s face as he glanced over at his friend. Azrael turned his head as if he weren’t standing directly in front of two armed combatants eager to attack.
“I know the feeling. It’s just not very satisfying, is it?” Still facing Lucifer, Azrael’s arms shot out, each of his hands slamming into the chest of one of the facing demons. His hands passed into their chests as if they were made of no more than paper. The Rimmon froze as he grabbed a hold of their souls and ripped them out of their bodies. The light of life faded from their eyes, and their bodies dropped with a dull thud.
“No, I don’t think it’s going to be.” With a speed that defied the laws of nature, Lucifer struck out with one solid, brutal fist and slammed Belial directly in the face. The impact was so hard that the crack of breaking bone echoed across the room. Before the demon hit the ground, the opposite hand sprang out and grabbed the now-bleeding demon by the throat. The small whimpers of pain instantly silenced as Lucifer crushed his windpipe with that same hand. For good measure, he used his other hand to grasp Belial’s jaw and twist his head. One more loud crack sounded in the air, and Belial ceased to breathe.
Lucifer dropped him on the floor like the trash he was, and the remaining Rimmon guard caught a controlled blast of hellfire to the face.
Azrael stood silent and still with his left hand outstretched, palm up. Diane watched as dark mist rose from the bodies and scattered ash. As the mist was drawn into Azrael’s left hand, it signified those souls would spend eternity in Hell. If the mist had gone to his right hand, they would have gone to a nicer place, but with so many vile deeds staining their souls, there was no option for redemption.
When all the darkness had gathered in Azrael’s palm, he closed it firmly and placed it on his chest. Without a breath of sound, he unfurled his wings to their full width, and with a powerful leap, he took flight into the open sky. Then he was gone without the slightest sound or ruffled breeze.
“Alia, come. Your mother is waiting, and you know she won’t rest until she has the opportunity to fuss over you and make sure you’re not too upset with her.” Lucifer’s rumbling voice interrupted her bleak thoughts.
“Diane, it will all work out, I promise.” Her niece leaned in close to give her a tight squeeze. “Dad, where are your manners? Can’t you at least clean up the mess before you drag me home?”
Diane blinked, and her bedroom looked the same as it had the day before. The hole in the wall was gone. The bodies and ash littering the floor were gone.
Azrael was gone.
Chapter 18
He landed outside the gate to the abyss and wiped his damp palms on his pants. The hair at the back of his neck stood on end and his gut twisted. It was a trip he’d made thousands of times and he knew the route like the back of his hand, but not even on the first trip had he felt this uneasy.
Before the loss of Andras, the chore of delivering someone like Belial to their final fate under the warden’s watch would have filled him with the satisfaction of knowing he’d cleaned the world of one more piece of trash.
Now? He was near sick with apprehension. He pushed the foreign feeling deeper into his gut. He didn’t have time for an amateur’s fears.
A cold wind whipped his hair across his face. He pushed it back behind his ear and watched the monstrous outer door open. The solid black iron gate soundlessly welcomed him into a cavern that somehow managed to be darker than the wretched valley he stood in.
It had taken no time to reach Abaddon’s abyss and the gate barring condemned souls from ever leaving their imprisonment. The entrance actually consisted of two doorways. Most beings, whether mortal or immortal, were trapped as soon as they stepped one foot inside the outer door. As a Soul Runner he had the ability to pass through the outer door and into the antechamber. There, a Soul Runner would hand the harvested soul over to Abaddon where the warden would then take it in through the final doorway.
The system was supposed to be foolproof. He and Andras had worked for months together and he’d decided to recommend that the Fates let Andras work on his own. Apparently he’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
“Some vacation, huh?” Abaddon stood watch in his usual place beside the inner gate.
“No shit. This so-called break has made a plane crash look like a picnic. Did Luc contact you?”
“Yeah. He was loud and clear on where these idiots are to be housed.” It wasn’t often the warden showed any signs of fear or disgust, but whatever Luc’s orders had been sent visible shudders through Abaddon. Then he stared back with his all too serious grey eyes. “Why don’t you go ahead and ask the questions you’re holding back. Maybe I can answer them and maybe I can’t, but you might as well spit them out before they drive you mad.”
“Is he okay?” He knew the answer to the question, no one would ever be fine inside the abyss, but the warden was right. The not knowing would drive him bat-shit crazy.
“I’ll be as honest as I can. It’s not pretty, but then again even when you intentionally jump into the abyss, there are no safe corners to hide in.”
His heart stopped. Had he heard correctly? Intentionally? Why the fuck would anyone willingly jump into the abyss?
“You didn’t know? Az, come on. I know he was your friend and pupil but think back on it. He knew what he was doing. I just never pegged him as the suicidal sort.”
The sympathy staring back at him through the warden’s eyes became too much to bear. He handed over the remains of Belial and his minions, then left without a word. More work awaited him.
He made the jump to another Unearthly realm and found the Fates had returned to their home. He didn’t know whether to be thrilled that he could get the conversation over with or worried that this could be the final nail in his coffin. His feelings were no matter. The time to finish this had come and gone.
Lounging about in the too white, too perfect temple, the trio did little more than make brief eye contact before looking at each o
ther as if in silent communication. He got that they saw all and knew damn near everything, but his patience was long gone.
“Ladies.” The creepy eye thing continued.
“Azrael.” Lachesis spoke to him but continued to look her sister, Clotho, in the eye. “I know what you’re going to ask. No, we cannot do anything to free Andras from the abyss. He is there of his own choosing.”
“Do you know why he stepped through the final gate?” He stared hard at Atropos, the thread cutter. After all she was the one who determined when all beings were destined to lose their lives.
“No. And I had nothing to do with his choice. He went of his own free will.” She pronounced the last words, free will, with a pronounced hiss. Yeah, the three meddlers hated it when someone had enough willpower and drive to break free of their predestined path. They must have been as shocked as he’d been when Andras stepped through. Though, thanks to the lack of emotion they showed, he couldn’t tell if they cared.
“Why did you let me think it was an accident?” He’d not only grieved over the loss of his friend but doubted his own abilities as a Runner and a mentor. Knowing they’d let him think it’d been his fault made his blood boil. He may have been serving time but he’d truly believed they had more respect for him than that.
“Believe what you will, but if you’d known he’d done so intentionally, it would have changed the outcome of the future. Right now there are greater things in the works than your feelings or even our own destinies.” Did they really believe that? The sisters never appeared concerned over anything except their own agenda. If they were truly worried he couldn’t begin to guess what was going on behind the scenes.
Azrael's Light [Demon Runners of Unearth] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 12
