by Susan Illene
“Let’s go, son,” Raguel said, gesturing toward the gymnasium.
Bartol nodded at the three gate guards, then he and his father followed Remiel inside. When they entered the gymnasium, they found it crowded with a mix of demons and angels. Bartol took it all in, the various power vibes grating at his skin. He might not be a sensor, but he could still feel differences between certain races, particularly when it came to Hell’s minions. Raguel’s hard gaze ran across the room, not appearing much more comfortable with so many of their enemy present. Remiel had disappeared into a side room just off the entrance.
There were two lines of tables set across from each other with chairs of various sizes and shapes to accommodate the guests. No one had taken their seats yet. Each place had a placard, letting demons and angels know where they should station themselves. For now, they stood opposite of each other in the room. The angels murmured amongst themselves, stiff and reserved. The demons were being loud and boisterous on their side. Two of them were wrestling on the floor, and a third let out a string of loud belching noises.
Bartol was not looking forward to how this would go at all.
“Where’s the food?” one of the demons shouted. It looked similar to a troll, except taller with burnt-orange skin and black hair.
Remiel stepped into the middle of the room, having changed into a gleaming white robe. This one had golden lining at the sleeves and collar. “Refreshments will be served after we’ve concluded treaty negotiations.”
“After?” the demon growled. “We ain’t talking ‘bout nothing ‘til we have food in our bellies.”
“That is not…” Remiel began.
“Excuse my associate,” a cultured voice said from somewhere in the crowd.
The demons stepped aside, opening their ranks for a tall man to make his way toward the archangel. He wore a dark blue suit that fit his large frame perfectly. His hair was dark, and he donned a neatly trimmed goatee. If not for the waves of power and evil, as well as the pitch-black eyes, Bartol wouldn’t have guessed he was a demon. There was just something different about him.
“It can’t be him leading this,” Raguel said under his breath.
Bartol glanced at his father. “What?”
“That is Samael.”
“Who?” Bartol needed to study the demon hierarchy if he was to continue hunting them.
“A once powerful archangel who fell many millennia ago. He still serves as the Angel of Death for those bound for Hell.” His father shook his head. “Samael has not appeared to us for a very long time, but he has changed very little since I last saw him.”
The bodies and visages of many angels who fell from grace became twisted and grotesque over time. This one was different, as he clearly preferred to keep a more earthly form. But one thing was for certain, he made the prince Bartol fought recently pale in comparison when it came to power levels. Who knew how many demon slayers it would take to execute Samael?
“What is he doing here?”
Raguel’s lips thinned. “I have no idea, but I was not the one who determined which guests would attend the summit.”
“Samael.” Remiel came around the tables to greet the high demon. “I’m glad you have come.”
“Why would they want him here?” Bartol asked in a whisper.
“If I had to guess, it would be because Samael is one of the few demons whose words are their bond. If he promises something, he means it. They know we won’t trust just anyone with a new deal. He also holds a great deal of power and respect among the demon ranks that makes him a good leader for their side. The trouble is that Hell has made him dangerous and calculating. There is still a sliver of righteousness inside his soul that guides his actions, but it’s unpredictable.”
Bartol truly hoped the former archangel was reliable and trustworthy enough for the job.
“It has been a long time since I’ve last walked this plane,” Samael said, running his gaze around the room. “Much has changed.”
“Wouldn’t he have seen Earth often as the Angel of Death?” Bartol murmured.
Raguel shook his head. “He comes in spirit form and only sees the soul he has come to collect. By design, the world around him is left unclear so that he will not be tempted to stay.”
“That’s…an interesting arrangement.”
“His job is sanctioned by Heaven and considered sacred, even if he works for the other side,” Raguel explained.
There was still so much Bartol didn’t know.
“But now you and your brethren wish to have a presence on Earth,” Remiel replied, continuing to speak to Samael.
The fallen angel dipped his chin. “Times have changed, and we must change with them.”
“Or so you would prefer.” Remiel gestured toward the tables and chairs. “Perhaps we should take our seats before we begin to discuss this topic in earnest.”
“Of course.” Samael turned toward the demon assembly and addressed them in an authoritative voice, “Sit. We will partake of refreshments afterward.”
A few grumbled but did as he commanded. The contingent from Heaven took their places as well, some Bartol recognized and some he didn’t. In all, each side had approximately twenty-five representatives of varying power levels. They didn’t need that many to negotiate, but the demons insisted on that number for their group, so the angels had matched it as a defensive measure. The leaders would do most of the talking.
After everyone settled into their places, Remiel spoke from his seat at the middle of the angel section. “We will allow you to make your proposal first.”
“Thank you.” Samael rose from his position directly across from the archangel. He had a suave appearance, and yet a commanding demeanor. “As you know, we believe we have a right to a presence on Earth. For many millennia, it has been far too limited. We’re no longer willing to tolerate the old rules, especially now that the world is well aware of other supernatural beings present in it.”
“That has never been relevant before,” Remiel argued. “The supernaturals were not always in hiding, and their activities were not part of our agreement.”
Samael shrugged. “Perhaps not, but you have killed many of our kind recently who entered Earth through lawful means.”
“Most of those executions were carried out by a nephilim—which is not forbidden by the treaty. We only brought out an archangel after your side opened portals. That was unlawful.”
“You sent Stolas back to Hell a few years ago,” Samael said, narrowing his eyes. “He was summoned and did not come of his own volition.”
“I highly doubt he minded,” a nephilim near Bartol muttered.
Remiel stood. “Those were extreme circumstances, and many humans died to bring him to Earth. Also, Stolas killed a sensor, albeit temporarily, but regardless it was prohibited under our treaty. I had no choice except to intervene and send the demon back.”
“It was still a violation.”
The archangel’s eyes glowed bright gold. “Your side has made mistakes as well.”
“Which is the only reason we did not retaliate sooner. But when you brought him back last year, that was your final mistake.” Samael pointed an accusing finger at Raguel. “All demon slayers were supposed to be converted to something else or permanently retired.”
“The sheer number of demons who infiltrated Earth, and the trouble they were causing, left us no choice,” Remiel argued.
Bartol had known them bringing Raguel out was a risky move for the angels, but he’d had no idea the desperation of their move. If they hadn’t woken his father, though, he wouldn’t have learned how to fight without losing his mind, and they wouldn’t have stopped the troubles last winter. The world would have become an entirely different place by now.
“There are always choices. You knew raising him would draw our ire more than anything else you could have done, and yet you did it anyway.” Samael’s eyes grew darker. “You will allow us passage to Earth, and the right to maintain a presence here.”
Remiel was quiet for a moment. The fact that he didn’t argue about Raguel’s return any further said he recognized bringing the archangel back had been a deal breaker.
“What are your terms?” the archangel asked stiffly.
“At any given time, a thousand demons should be allowed on the planet.” The fallen angel paused as concerned whispers rose from Heaven’s side of the tables. “There will be three portals across the world we can use. They can be administered by angels to register names and control the numbers who enter and exit.”
“You would have them come in their true forms? No, the humans couldn’t handle it,” Remiel said, shaking his head.
“The mortals will learn just as they have with the other races,” Samael said.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Jeriel spoke up. “There are still problems since humans learned about vampires, werewolves, witches, and others. Adding demons to the list would certainly cause greater alarm and revolt among them.”
The fallen angel smiled. “All the more reason to let them meet us now while they’re still adjusting. With time, they can learn to cope with us all together.”
“Angels do not even reveal themselves,” Remiel said, lifting his chin. “Why would we allow you to do it?”
Heaven’s representatives had made a point of keeping out of the limelight. When the rare occurrences happened that they were spotted, the humans’ memories were wiped clean of it except under special circumstances such as Cori who was involved with supernaturals more than most.
“Then it’s time you should come out,” Samael replied, running his gaze across the assemblage. “There’s no reason we can’t try living together.”
A round of applause came from the demon side, and even a few of the angels muttered words of agreement. Bartol had always wondered if they hated having to hide in the shadows, watching yet never a part of anything. Samael was charismatic, and as a former archangel who still served Heaven in some capacity, he was far more palatable than the others from his side.
“Do you truly think I’m authorized to give you or my people a visible presence on Earth?” Remiel asked. His features were a solid mask, hiding his emotions and thoughts.
Samael came around the table and stood in the middle of the circle of tables. “You knew what we wanted before this summit began. Countless centuries have passed where our requests to renegotiate the treaty on these particular points were ignored, and the only way to Earth has been in inhabiting human bodies—temporarily. Why meet today if you don’t have something to offer that might pacify us?”
Bartol had to agree the high demon had a point. He’d wondered the same thing.
Remiel worked his jaw. “You are correct. I can make you an offer, but not on the scale you have proposed. We will permit one portal—here in Alaska—and we must guard it. At any given time, one hundred demons will be allowed to inhabit Earth, but only if they can blend in and not frighten the humans.”
“One hundred?” Samael scoffed. The demons behind him laughed as if they found the offer to be the most comical thing they’d ever heard. “My brethren demanded far more than the one thousand I proposed, but I knew you’d never agree to the numbers they requested, so I had to negotiate down to get it that low. Hell will never agree to one hundred.”
“That is the best I can give you.”
Samael clucked his tongue. “Then the attacks on humans will continue without end, and you’ll never be able to stop us with all the portals we currently have open across the world.”
Kerbasi—dark and looming after his change—moved to stand next to Remiel. “We will stop you and continue executing your kind until none of you will risk coming to Earth, or you’re all dead.”
“What is this?” Samael frowned. “Did you create another demon slayer?”
Remiel smiled coldly. “Since the treaty no longer holds, conversions are an option for us once more. He is only the first. We can alter many more angels to track and execute your kind if necessary.”
Samael was quiet for a moment. Something told Bartol he had not considered this possibility—or at least thought it wouldn’t happen so soon. To be fair, Heaven had gotten rid of all their slayers. With Raguel out of commission, it had appeared there was no one to fight back. Bartol was a loophole since he was a nephilim, but until recently, he hadn’t been in play, either. Perhaps Hell’s minions had hoped they would not have to contend with many opponents who could actually kill them.
“Even so,” the high demon said, lifting his chin. “The conversion process is not easy, and those you recruit will require training. By my count, you only have three to fight us now—one of which is freshly made and untried. We could flood this planet with countless demons long before you could quell our numbers.”
Remiel stared hard at him. “Very well, here is my final offer. You may have two portals—one in Alaska and the other in Australia—each managed by angels. To start, there can be no more than five hundred demons on Earth at any given time, and they must be capable of blending into the native population. This is a trial basis. If your people prove they can behave themselves and not cause any major troubles after one year—to include mass murder and destruction—we can double that number to the one thousand you initially requested.”
Murmurs rose up among the demon side. Samael turned to discuss the proposition with several of those closest to him, several minutes passing before he faced the angels once more.
“We will agree to blend, either by shifting our shape or using magic to conceal our true forms.” He smoothed a hand down his suit jacket. “But we want our presence known to the world, and the right to work with human organizations who deal in the supernatural. I believe one of the agency representatives is outside now.”
“That person is not part of this negotiation.”
Samael cocked his head. “Perhaps we should ask Melena Sanders what she thinks—especially considering she invaded our territory last year. She certainly has first-hand experience with us.”
Bartol cursed under his breath. This high demon was even more aware of current events and their allies than expected. Samael surely knew Melena’s nature and not just her occupation. He wanted to call in the only sensor present, which was suspicious in itself, but it didn’t help that Melena had invaded Hell, and they might want revenge.
“She is off-limits to you,” Remiel said.
The high demon pressed a hand to his chest as if offended. “Oh, you think we wish her harm? Hardly. We respect anyone who defies Heaven, and not only invades Purgatory to free prisoners there—twice—but also comes down to the bowels of Hell to rescue an archangel who’d been carelessly discarded despite her good nature. If only this sensor had been around when I first fell.”
Bartol couldn’t believe his ears. Did the demons actually respect Melena? Surely not.
“You mean her no harm whatsoever?” Remiel drew his brows together. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I swear on my honor that neither I, nor any of my brethren present, will harm the sensor in any way while present at this summit—or afterward if we come to an agreement.” Samael produced a knife and cut his palm. “A blood oath that I cannot break even if I wish.”
Neither angels nor demons used blood oaths lightly. Bartol was shocked at the lengths Samael was willing to go to get his way. He couldn’t help but ask, “Why is it important to you that your presence is known, and that you work with humans?”
“We have our reasons,” the high demon replied, voice clipped.
Remiel leaned his hands on the table in front of him, expression annoyed as he turned to address Bartol. “He wants their presence known so that we can never take it back. As long as they hide who they are, then it would be easier to force them back into Hell if the situation became too untenable to manage.”
“That doesn’t explain why they’d want to work with humans, though.” Bartol figured demons would prefer to avoid authority at all costs.
Samael clasped his han
ds behind his back. “I am the first to admit my people are a little difficult to control. If some of our more disciplined brethren work with human authorities to locate and capture any who break the rules, it will make our presence more palatable and leave room to negotiate for more of our kind to visit in the future. It is in our best interest to be cooperative.”
Of course, there was an ulterior motive. It made sense, even if it seemed a little too well thought out for a demon. Then again, Samael was no ordinary demon. Bartol had expected they’d only be dealing with the violent, unruly kind, but this man was proving he could control his side when necessary to get what Hell wanted.
Remiel clenched his fists. “Very well. We will bring Melena Sanders in to speak for her human agency, but she must be allowed to negotiate her terms separate from ours.”
“Very well,” Samael said, a pleased expression forming on his face.
An angel was sent out to get the sensor while the leaders of Heaven and Hell continued to negotiate the finer points of their new treaty. A nephilim was charged with writing the terms down. They’d made it partway through when Melena stepped through the door, Lucas at her side. He did not look happy about having his mate involved with a large contingent of demons.
Remiel began to introduce her, but she brushed him off and came to stand in front of Samael. She scrutinized him, managing to appear as if she were looking down on him despite the fact he was a foot taller than her. “What makes you think I’d ever allow a demon to work with my agency?”
It had taken quite a while for her to come to the gymnasium. Bartol could only guess she’d asked a lot of questions about what was going on inside before agreeing to join them. Likely, Lucas had interjected his feelings on the matter as well.
“Have you not had to deal with our kind in the past?” Samael asked.
She crossed her arms. “I might have.”
“Would it not be useful to have someone who could help capture the occasional demon causing trouble and dispose of them without a fight? We might not be best known for our discipline, but our leaders can control the lower ranks quite well when they choose.” Samael gave her a confident smile. “It would make your job easier if you had an ally.”