by Amy Sumida
“How many times do I have to tell you to just drop her off and run?” Samantha asked with a smile and a shake of her head. “It's fine, V; I'm happy to have someone to entertain Zariel.”
“Did you find out anything from the Lwa?” Fallon asked.
“We have a possible answer to how the exorcist managed to”—I paused when I saw the girls' interested stares on me—“do what he did.”
“Good,” Fallon said. “I'll head down with you so I can hear about it.”
Fallon leaned over and kissed his wife before he collected their dishes and took them to the sink. He rinsed them off and stuck them in the dishwasher as I said goodbye to Samantha and the children. What a good guy; I loved that Fallon didn't expect Sam to do all the chores.
We headed back down to the dining hall as I filled Fallon in on what Samedi and Brigitte had said. I figured that Azrael would have already gotten through his report by the time we got there. Sure enough, we arrived in the middle of the God Squad's reaction to the news.
“I'm sorry, Az, but I think Odin's right,” Trevor said. “It sounds like Samael.”
“Another death god named Sam,” I muttered to myself.
“Hey,” Fallon huffed. “Watch how you throw that name around.”
I chuckled. “I hadn't thought of that.”
“That my wife shares the name of two death deities?” Fallon asked with a lifted brow. “It doesn't really surprise me.”
“You defend her and then insult her,” I pointed out.
“That's marriage.” Fallon shrugged with a smile that expressed what a wonderful marriage he had.
I shook my head as I went to sit beside Kirill. “What's this about Samael?” I asked him.
“Zey say exorcist has dark looks and speaks like angel,” Kirill whispered. “Add soul-severing ability and it sounds like Samael.”
“It's not him,” Azrael said as if he'd already said it numerous times.
I started to pick at Kirill's leftovers, and he slid his plate over to me with a grin. It was a shifter thing; they loved giving their mates food. It was also why I thought nothing of eating off his plate. I would have done it with Trevor too, but none of my other husbands; not without asking first—despite the fact that they probably wouldn't have minded.
“Back me up, Vervain,” Azrael said.
I looked up in surprise—my mouth full of barbecue—and hastily swallowed as I considered it. Azrael scowled at me as I came to the same conclusion that Odin had; Samael looked guilty. No; I didn't say it out loud, but I don't have a good poker face. It was one of the reasons why I was a horrible liar; you could see my feelings instantly.
“Damn it all! Not you too?” Azrael exclaimed.
“Hold on,” I snarled. “Wait for me to speak before you convict me.”
“You obviously agree with them.” Azrael waved his hand out toward the others.
“I agree with how it appears,” I said. “But I trust you, Azrael. You know him better than all of us.”
Azrael's shoulders drooped and his expression softened.
“I doubted you when it came to Samael before,” I went on. “And I was wrong. I won't make that mistake again. If you say it isn't him; I believe you.”
“Thank you,” Azrael whispered.
“Vervain, we have to work with the facts,” Thor said. “And the facts are; both families attributed angelic qualities to this killer and described him as being an exotic looking man with dark hair. Then there's the fact that Samael is a death angel and possesses the ability to remove souls from bodies. He doesn't even need a weapon like Azrael, he just uses his hands; just like the exorcist.”
There was something tight around the edges of Thor's eyes that made me stare at him a little longer than necessary. His jaw clenched and a slight flush filled his pale cheeks. I blinked in surprise as Thor ran a hand through his strawberry blond hair and looked away from me.
Oh, sweet Norse Gods! Was Thor remembering our time together? We'd been married in one of those wrong timelines of Aion's. Just thinking about it brought up erotic images of Thor and me together; scenes of married life with him. It made something ache in my chest; the feelings I had buried when I'd moved on from him. Damn it; this was the last thing I needed. Thor and I had been through a lot; both together and to get over being together. I really didn't want to rehash everything. Nor did I want to see Thor hurt again.
But he didn't look back up at me, and I had the attention of my husbands, boyfriends, and the Squad on me now. I had to say something.
“Samael could glamour himself to look like anyone,” I reasoned. “Why would he show up as himself? And what about his snake eyes? That would be something the families would notice, and I don't think they'd call it angelic.”
“You just answered your own question,” Blue said. “He glamoured his eyes only; the easiest solution is the best.”
“But why would Samael kill demons?” Azrael growled. “His children are demons!”
We all went silent; that was something no one had considered. I was pleased with myself for going with Azrael this time, and I internally vowed to do so from now on. At least where angel stuff is concerned.
“I think we can safely rule out Samael,” I said. “There's no way he'd jeopardize the lives of his children.”
“He'd recognize his child's soul,” Thor argued. “He would know not to take it.”
“That's weak, dude,” Trevor said. “Give this one to Az; he knows his own people better than we do, and he has the greatest attachment to the Demons. It would be stupid of us to waste time running down a lead just for the sake of our pride.”
“He wouldn't want to jeopardize his children,” I repeated with a more pensive tone.
“Yeah; we heard you the first time,” Horus said dryly.
Hekate smacked him.
Horus grabbed his wife's hand and leaned toward her to whisper, “I've had enough of this abuse, Katie. From this moment forward, every time you hit me, I will punish you for it in private.”
Hekate began to smile—slow and deviously—and then deliberately smacked him in the chest. Horus rolled his eyes, but they were glittering with anticipation.
“It's a shame Pan missed that little exchange,” Finn noted with a smirk.
“Hello?” I snapped at everyone. “Samael won't want his children hurt. Samael; the powerful ruler of Makhon.”
“Yes, we got that,” Morpheus said. “What's your point?”
“That he has a reason to help us!” Azrael exclaimed. “You're brilliant, Carus!”
“Thank you.” I nodded regally and popped a piece of steak in my mouth.
“I fail to see how he will be of any more use than the rest of us,” Horus said.
“He's a death angel,” Azrael said. “And he keeps extensive records; he watches.”
“Right; the eyes thing,” I muttered and shivered.
One of the myths about Samael was that he was covered in eyes. He probably could take such a form, but he usually appeared as a tall, gangly man with striking features; including a pair—only one pair—of pale green, serpent eyes. And he had wings, of course. Samael was an angel, so he came equipped with feathered wings, and his were as black as Azrael's.
“I'll go speak with him,” Azrael said and started off.
“Hold on!” Trevor grabbed his arm. “You aren't going alone, and you haven't eaten yet. Sit down, put some food in your belly, and then we can go together, Brother.”
It was the 'brother' that stopped Azrael and made him take a deep breath. I think he'd felt attacked with how he had to defend Samael, and he'd briefly forgotten that we were all family here, and we wanted to help him. We loved him.
“Okay.” Azrael gave in and took a seat at the table.
“I'm going too,” I said to him.
Azrael smiled at me. “That will help; Sam likes you.”
“I would never have guessed,” I said in surprise.
“He doesn't instantly sneer when he sees you,” Azra
el said and then nodded his thanks as he accepted a plate of food from Aidan. “That's high praise from Sam.”
I considered this. I couldn't remember if Samael had sneered or not the last time I saw him. I'd have to pay more attention this time.
“Why don't the rest of you go home and get some rest while we meet with Samael?” Azrael suggested. “There's no sense in you waiting here, doing nothing when you could be in the comfort of your own homes. We'll call you when we have more information.”
The God Squad agreed and slowly made their way out; each of them stopping to pat Azrael's shoulder, kiss him on the cheek, or just assure him that they were with him on this. By the time it was just my lovers and my lions in the room with me, Azrael was looking much better. The food helped too. When he was done, he wiped his mouth and stood up looking stronger—both emotionally and physically—than when he'd sat down.
“All right, who's coming with me?” Az asked.
“To the Death face-off?” Re asked. “I'm there.”
“I already said I'm going,” Trevor said.
“Do you think Lilith will be there?” Odin asked warily.
“Probably,” Azrael said with a smirk.
The last time Odin had seen Lilith, it was along with her daughter, Gello, and both mother and daughter had flirted with him shamelessly. In their defense, Odin had just shaved off his beard and not only did he look like a new, younger man, but he also looked smoking hot—just how demons like their lovers.
“I think I'll stay here with Lesya,” Odin said.
We all laughed.
“Hiding from a demon lady.” I clucked my tongue at Odin. “What would the Aesir think?”
“The Aesir don't have to be pawed by the Mother of Demons.” Odin grimaced. “They can think whatever they like.”
Chapter Ten
Makhon was the Fifth Heaven. No; there isn't just one Heaven, there are seven, and that's only in the Trinity-Pantheons. Most of the Angelic Host resides in the Fifth and it's also where this big angelic concert happens—the Trisagion—in a massive amphitheater in the middle of Makhon's forest. But we weren't going there to listen to singing today; we were visiting Makhon's ruler.
Azrael, Trevor, Kirill, Re, Toby, and I entered Makhon through a tracing room in a magnificent palace, but it wasn't Samael's home. The Ruler of Makhon was too smart to live in the same place most of the Angelic Host had to tromp through just to get into the territory. Instead, he had a second, slightly less grand palace next door.
We took the footpath along the border of Makhon's majestic forest, and I breathed in the scent of pine resin, ripe fruit, and that earthy undertone of decay that still manages to seem fresh in a forest. I wondered at that; they decay, I mean. Every time I visited Makhon—which wasn't all that often—it smelled the same. There was always ripening fruit sweetening the breeze. So, if this magical forest was stuck in summer, when did it have a chance to decay? Perhaps it was always in the cycle of summer. Angels were big on cycles; some were even shaped like wheels.
I pushed thoughts of the Orphanim (the wheel angels) from my mind as we climbed the steps to the other Angel of Death's door. It was never a comfortable conversation with Samael, but I was hoping that love of his children would sway him into being more friendly this time.
The door opened before we reached it, and Samael filled the doorway with his intimidating presence; glowering down at us with bright, snake eyes. His expression turned even more sour as he looked over the men—that Samael sneer settling into place—but his lips shifted and quirked up a little at the corners when his gaze landed on me.
Well, what do ya know? Azrael was right; Death #2 liked me. But then, Death, in general, seemed to have an affinity with me. Odin was a death god too. Although, he didn't have the handy ability of pulling a person's soul from their body. When he had wanted Sabine's soul transported to Hvergelmir, the Viking Well of Souls, he had to ask Azrael to do it for him. That thought made me wonder just how many death deities actually had the ability to transport souls to their afterlives.
Anubis didn't; his job was to sit on his throne and judge the souls of the dead. Lucifer didn't; and yes, he's a death god. Lucifer rules Hell; I'm pretty sure that governing the dead makes you a death god. Which leads us to Hades; as far as I knew, he didn't have a tool or ability to remove souls from their physical bodies. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that a list of death deities with a soul-severing ability would probably be a short one.
“Did you come all this way just to make strange faces at me, Vervain?” Samael asked; jolting me out of my musings.
“Sorry,” I stuttered. “I was lost in thought.”
“Indeed.” Sam's lips quirked again. “What do I owe this thoughtful honor to?”
“Have you heard from any of your children?” Azrael asked.
“Let them in, Sam!” Lilith shouted.
Samael grimaced and stepped to the side. “Do come in.”
“Thank you,” I said brightly as I strode past him.
I went in the direction I'd heard Lilith's voice coming from and found her lounging across a chaise with a martini in one hand; lifted as if she were posing for a picture. She smiled sensually at me as she stood—undulated up is probably more accurate—and then she sashayed her substantial curves over to me and gave me a warm hug. The scent of vanilla and roses nearly choked my beast super-smeller.
“Vervain, how good to see you,” Lilith purred (I'm not sure if she knew how to speak without sounding sexy). “Thank you for coming in our hour of need.”
“You've heard,” I said in surprise.
“Of course, we've heard,” Samael said as he came in with the others. “Our children called immediately. The loss of two demons is a tragedy; one which I intend on rectifying.”
“Rectifying?” I asked.
“He means he's going to kill the bastards who killed our family,” Lilith translated.
“No offense, but I'm surprised to hear you call Alan and Mark family,” Trevor said. “They weren't your sons, were they?”
“No, and none taken.” Lilith looked Trevor up and down. “Mark and Allen may not have been our sons, but they are the same breed as our children; that makes them family.”
Samael sighed and rolled his eyes.
“You don't feel the same?” I asked him.
Sam shrugged.
“Then why vow vengeance?” Re asked.
“Because it could have been my children who were killed,” Samael snapped. “And, although I may not consider them to be family, I do consider Alan and Mark to be members of my pantheon. They will be avenged, and the murderer will be stopped.”
“I'm glad we're on the same page,” Azrael said. “And since we are; I have some information to share with you.”
“Sit down, everyone,” Lilith said with a delicate wave of her hand. “Let's not be barbarians. Would anyone care for a cocktail?”
“No, thank you, Lilith,” I answered for us.
I introduced the men who hadn't met Samael and Lilith as we all took seats in the elegant living room. The pale marble floor was covered with thick, vibrant, Persian carpets, the walls were covered in tapestry wallpaper, and the tall windows were covered in silk drapes. There was a lot of fabric in the room, and that wasn't counting the assorted throw pillows and blankets cast across the couches. It was refined without being stuffy. I happily sank down beside Lilith on her chaise.
“All right; we're civil,” Samael said. “What did you discover?”
Azrael told Samael and Lilith about everything we'd learned; ending with the vial and the probability of a death deity being behind it all. Lilith's eyes were burning by the time Az finished, but Samael just sat as still as, well, death, and processed.
“There are very few death gods who are also harvesters,” Samael mused. “There are several psychopomps who escort souls—such as the Valkyries and Charon—but they don't physically remove the souls from their bodies. Most religions assume that the soul leav
es its body on its own and is then either led or makes its own way to its afterlife. Azrael and I are two of the few harvesters I know of.”
“Da; ve know too,” Kirill said dryly.
Samael's eyes widened infinitesimally. “You suspected me.”
“You looked suspicious, but Azrael defended you,” I said. “And once he pointed out that your children were at risk, we took you off the suspect list.”
“Gee; thanks,” Sam said.
“As you said; there are few harvesters,” I pointed out. “In fact, I was mulling over that very issue when you answered the door.”
“You said you were two of the few. Can you think of any other harvesters?” Toby asked Sam. “Especially those like you, who have no need of a tool.”
Lilith laughed and said, “Well, there was Yama; he was a harvester, but you all killed him.”
“So, I guess he's off the hook.” I smirked at her.
“Indeed,” Samael said. “Although, I seem to recall Ganesh using Yama's lasso once or twice.”
“It's called the Pasha, Sam,” Lilith said. “And Ganesh used it to remove obstacles, not to harvest souls.”
“The Pasha?” Re asked. “So, Yama used a tool?”
“It's a cord,” Samael said. “I'm not sure how it worked, but my wife is correct; only a death god could use it to gather souls.”
“It was probably destroyed with him in the explosion,” I murmured.
Awhile back, Yama and a few other gods—including Hades' daughter Macaria—tried to raise the magical Hindu city of Dvaraka. They had led us on a merry chase with all sorts of drama; trying to distract us while they lifted the city out of its watery hidey-hole. But they failed. Krishna—the god who built Dvaraka—destroyed it; sacrificing himself to do it. We'd all witnessed the destruction because we had to join together to empower a ward around the city and contain the epic blast Krishna set off. It had been powerful enough to obliterate the entire city and kill all of the gods trapped within it. Yama had been one of them.
“There is a Lithuanian god who harvests souls; Dievas, I believe,” Samael murmured. Then he scowled. “Perhaps we're looking at this wrong. Whoever took the demon souls destroyed them. So, maybe it's not a harvester we should be pursuing but a soul-eater.”