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Azazel stormed into the dank, underground room. “Why was I summoned?”
The servants and guards looked at him and then each other. He could taste their anxiety on the air. Something was wrong.
He squinted his eyes and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. At least nothing he could see. He sniffed a few times. No brimstone or sulfur lingered, which meant no other demon had entered his domain. But the servants were obviously frightened by something.
Lenore appeared beside him. “What is the meaning of this? What is going on?”
A woman stepped forward. Azazel recognized her as one of the nursemaids that had helped with the birth the day before. “It's the child. We don't know what to do with it.” She pointed to the cell in the back corner of the room.
“Is it sick? Dying?” He followed Lenore to the chamber. They each peaked through the small, barred window. A child, maybe four or five years of age, sat in the middle of the floor playing with wooden blocks. It turned and faced them. Her pale, white skin and silver white hair contrasted with the deep red of her eyes.
Lenore stepped slowly away from the door and raised her hand to her mouth. Azazel rolled his eyes and inhaled deeply. He looked to the nursemaid for an explanation.
“We found her like that. When we came into feed her and change her,” the maid said.
“And?” Azazel asked. “Did she do something or say something that would warrant my presence?” He was beginning to lose his patience with these humans.
“No, sir.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“That's her,” Lenore said and stepped back again. “The child that was born yesterday.”
Azazel snorted. “That's impossible.”
“We don't have one that old in our care,” Lenore replied. “And I recognize those eyes. Just look at her.”
“Fine,” he snapped and entered the room.
The child looked at him briefly and then went back to playing with her blocks. He squatted down in front of her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. There was no denying those eyes.
“The mother was Fae, wasn't she? And the father, an Incubus.” He turned her head back and forth, studying her features. She snatched her head out of Azazel's hold.
“Hm, bitchy little thing, isn't it?”
The child stood and glared at him. “Keres.”
“It speaks? Interesting. The demon blood must be forcing it to mature faster.” He stood, still watching her.
“I am not an 'it'. My name is Keres.”
Azazel raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I think we have our first success. Make note of it,” he said to the witches, “The more powerful the demon, the better the chances it will be born evil.” He started to walk out of the room. “We will need capture more Fae to-”
“Azazel.”
He stopped short and turned to face the child. “Where did you hear that name?”
The child furrowed her brow. “I haven't heard it. I just knew it. I know everything.”
“Really? Everything, you say.”
“I know that you are trying to create more souls. Ones that are already tainted with evil,” Keres said.
He raised an eyebrow. The child intrigued him. He had to find a way to make more of her. That kind of all-knowing ability would serve him well.
Keres continued. “Azazel, you forget that everything with a soul has free will. You must abide by the natural laws of choice. You must stop making pre-destined souls.”
He laughed. “Apparently you don't understand as much as you think, little one. I'm a demon. I follow no laws. I find opportunities, and go where they lead me.”
“You are interfering in the laws of creation, the laws of free will. You must stop.”
“And if I don't, what will you do, little one? Bite my knee caps?” he mocked.
“We will have no choice than to kill you.”
His smiled faded. “What did you say?”
“You are making a world that was not meant to exist. This is the earthly plane, created for humans. By interfering in the process of creation, you are merging the supernatural world with this one.” Keres stepped forward, hands clasped in front of her. “It was not meant to be like this. You must stop. Or we will have no choice than to cleanse this world. We will kill you.”
Azazel snorted. “We? Who is this 'we' you speak of? You are but one. And a small one at that.”
“We are many. We have been brought here to protect the human world. You have been warned.”
“You are an ant compared to me. I'm an original demon, a fallen Angel. You have no power over me. You or your invisible army.” He started to turn away.
The child's eyes glowed deeper red and her gaze fell upon the guard at her door. He slumped to the ground in front of Azazel, convulsing and spewing blood. Then the guard caught on fire.
Azazel growled and looked back at Keres. “Your show of power is impressive, little one. But it does not scare me.” He stomped over and grabbed the child by the arm. Pushing up her sleeve, he took his dagger and sliced two symbols deep into her skin. Keres didn't flinch.
He dropped her arm and turned to Lenore. “Keep her locked up. Use only your human servants to take care of her needs. Those marks will bind her powers. She'll be no threat to anyone.”
Keres climbed up on the cot in the corner. “Azazel, these marks will not hold me forever. I will come for you.”
He turned back to the witch. “Keep a guard on her at all times. If she shows even a flicker of power, kill her.”
Lenore nodded in confirmation and began to dispose of the guard's dead body. Azazel frowned. He didn't like to be shown up by a mere human half-breed.
The Unnamed - Prequel to the Haedyn Chronicles Page 3