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Several hours later, Azazel lay on the bed staring at the ceiling above him. Something about the child nagged at him. It was quite peculiar, the way it had grown and matured so quickly. And that name, “Keres”. Where did he know that name from? He stood and paced about his room.
She was an arrogant little thing, no doubt about it. But the idea of having a supernatural being with the ability to “know” things was a powerful tool. He'd have to figure out a way to make her serve him.
But not right now. He had other worries to contend with, like how he was going to find more souls. Lucifer would be returning from Transylvania soon, no doubt with Vlad the Impaler ready to do his bidding in the upcoming war. And he had no further progress to report. There had to be a way to keep those babies from dying.
Maybe he'd find an answer at one of his other territories. He'd leave at sunrise and travel to each one until he found something useful. He stepped back toward the fire and his knee popped and buckled under him. Grabbing hold of the bedpost, he hobbled over and sat down.
“Damn human frailties.” It was time to dump this host and get another one. He was tired of possessing humans.
Lenore's offer came to mind. He could use the power gaining ceremony to steal the powers of a shape shifter, then he wouldn't need a host. He could create his own. It was an alluring idea, though he wondered what the price would be of using that much magic. There was always a price.
A knocked sounded at his door. He couldn't get a moment's peace around here.
“Enter.”
The servant he'd seen upon his arrival came to stand before him. He couldn't help but chuckle at how close this boy had come to being a human torch and now, here he was again.
“So we meet again. I take it you haven't come to offer warmth, so what brings you to the lion's den?”
The servant gave him a confused look and held out his hand. “An urgent message arrived for you by carrier.”
Dismissing the boy, Azazel snatched the scroll and unrolled it. Two of his territories had been burned to the ground. In both cases the attacker had been one of the offspring. Only humans survived.
He crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the hearth. The flames devoured it in seconds.
A lone being had brought down an entire castle full of supernatural and demon-possessed creatures, yet it left the humans to live. He squeezed his hands into fists and clenched his jaw.
Now he remembered where he'd heard the name Keres. Evil spirits from Pandora's box, they usually roamed the battlefields looking for the blood from the freshly wounded or already deceased. But the child being held in the cells below wasn't one of those Keres. He knew that for a fact. She'd taken the name to make a point. Grabbing his cape, he stormed out of his room and headed toward the lower chambers.
A few moments later, Azazel motioned for the guards to move away and opened the door to Keres' cell. “What do you know of the destruction of my castles?”
A young woman's white face peered from behind the coarse blanket on the cot, her red eyes glaring. He froze. Keres was no longer the child he'd spoken to only hours earlier. She'd grown into an adult woman.
“My aging concerns you,” she said.
“Why should I be concerned? At this rate you'll be dead by tomorrow.”
She smiled, tossing her long, silver hair over her shoulder. “Oh Azazel, you have the best sense of humor.” She pulled back the blanket and moved her legs over the edge of the bed. Her eyes never looked from his face but he couldn't help but notice the ample curves that had formed along her naked body. She stood and walked toward him. Circling him, she ran a hand from his chest around to his back until she was facing him again. She reached up to touch his face but he grabbed her arm.
“Tsk, tsk. I'm all too aware that your father is an Incubus. You're seduction won't work on me.”
“But we could have so much fun together, Azazel. Don't you want to have fun with me before you die?”
He released her hand and stepped away. “What do you know of the destruction of my castles, Keres?”
She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “You were warned. The cleansing has begun.”
Azazel narrowed his eyes. He didn't have time for these games. “We shall see about that.”
Her laughter tinkled like soft chimes in his ears. “We'll be coming for you. Maybe not today, and not tomorrow, but we will kill you.”
He walked out of her cell and slammed the wooden door so hard a crack snaked down the middle of it.
“Where is Lenore?” he demanded.
"Yes, m'lord?” The red-headed witch exited one of the other cells.
He snatched her arm, dragging her across the room and up the stairs with him. “It is a full moon. You will perform that ceremony tonight. I need access to my powers, and I can't use them in this damned body.”
“Yes, m'lord. I'll prepare the altar. Bring your sacrifices.” She ran ahead of him when they reached the hallway.
The Unnamed - Prequel to the Haedyn Chronicles Page 4