by Danae Ayusso
I still couldn’t believe it.
It was all just an elaborate setup.
The sole purpose was to put two people together to watch them kill each other. Karael was an interesting twist; most likely he was simply a side wager. They knew that Angelus and Karael would kill each other; I just don’t think they planned on me killing Karael. Even Angelus was surprised by that one.
It amused on some level me how everyone underestimated the blonde with the nice rack. There was a reason why I was in the top, though I wish I wasn’t at the moment, but I could take care of myself for the most part. I had lasted that long without anyone’s help. Karael wouldn’t have found me, the second time, if I weren’t with Angelus. My angel talked shit about me being predictable, but his unpredictability was predictable.
All of the bullshit and drama I had been through and crawled out of, this I couldn’t beat. There was no way that I could do it. It wasn’t possible.
Well, technically it was, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t! There had to be another way.
“Please hear me,” I whispered, pulling the black blade across my forearm and held my arm over the black and gold scrying chalice. Softly I chanted under my breath, watching the dark blood drip into the swirling vortex of crimson life force in the chalice. “Hear me, please, I need your help and guidance,” I whimpered.
The blood stopped spinning and I sighed.
“What is wrong, Zion?” The blood rippled as Adramelech’s voice echoed throughout the bathroom. “You sound as if you need some pie.”
All praises be to the Dark Mother.
“Master, I’m not in the mood for pie right now,” I said.
There was an awkward silence, and I thought that I had lost the connection.
“I can’t remember the last time you weren’t in the mood for pie. What is wrong?” he demanded.
That was true. It was Adramelech that introduced me to desserts, but pie I just happened to like more than the others.
“I need your guidance,” I mumbled, trying to invoke my proper etiquette for speaking with a master or lord—playing politics had never been my strong point. “I have become an unwitting pawn in a game that goes beyond my pay grade. They want me to kill, whether it is inadvertently or not, the only person that I think I have ever actually loved. No offense, Master.”
The chalice vibrated in my hand as the irate demon lord growled so violently that I struggled to hold on to the delicate metal scrying device.
“You were not supposed to be included in their bullshit game!” he snarled.
Whoa, what?
“What do you mean, you knew?” I whined, totally throwing the whole etiquette thing out the window.
“Yes I knew, but I did not know that you were a pawn. I apologize for that, Zion. This was never supposed to happen.”
Great, if the wishes of one of the highest levels of Hell were so easily disregarded then that meant that I was completely screwed.
“Oh, that sucks. Sorry to have bothered you,” I said.
“Stop,” he growled. “You can bother me anytime, I have told you that more than once. I should have known that something was wrong the moment you started tapping into my powers and invoking my sigil. I will not overlook that again, I promise you.”
Er, okay?
“So, do you have any words of wisdom?” I asked. hopeless.
Again there was a moment of awkward silence so I flicked the chalice to see if it was still on.
“Stop flicking the chalice,” he complained; I didn’t need to see him to know that he was rolling his eyes.
I giggled. “Oops, my bad.”
“Where are you?” Adramelech asked.
I looked around. “The bathroom?” I offered.
“Really?” he scoffed in disbelief. “You…never mind, I swear to God you are the blondest creature ever created.”
Again, I giggled.
“Where is this bathroom you are hiding located?” he clarified. “And if you say a house, I am hanging up.”
A smile filled my face. “Sorry.” I missed this, talking to Adramelech when he wasn’t bitching about work was always the highlight of my day. The strange bonding moments that we always shared made me feel better. If I was ever down or depressed about something, he’d summon me, kicking out whoever he was doing, or stopping who or what he was doing would be a better description, and serve me some pie and coffee and we’d talk. Most of the time he’d listen, he always teased that I liked to talk about myself, and whenever I’d start to ramble incoherently, especially when I was worked up about something, he could never get a word in edgewise. But he never laughed at my discomfort. In fact…
Huh, I never thought about that until now.
“Adramelech, I’m sorry I didn’t return to Hell,” I blurted out.
“What?”
“I shouldn’t have done that to you. As much as I wanted out of that place, not because of you, but because of the circumstances and what they did to me-” Again the chalice started vibrating. “Calm down,” I lovingly scolded, once again, something I had to do often when I was in Hell. Most of the time it seemed that I was the only one that could keep him from going on a murderous rampage, like he did when I was captive and couldn’t calm him down. He killed everything in his collection and harem.
“Master, I don’t have nightmares anymore, and I’m happy, aside from the current situation and not getting those goddamn Jimmy Choos I wanted, so don’t get upset about the past, please. Regardless, I should have never abandoned you like I did, and I am so sorry for that. You are the only Master and, well, father figure I have ever had and I do love you, I’m not in love with you, but I love and respect you. I made you look foolish by not returning to Hell. I am your property, and I know that you never recovered from the hit to your collection, and that you stopped collecting all together.”
“Zion, stop,” Adramelech said, and I wiped away the tears rolling down my cheeks, and splashing in the rippling blood. “I did not want you back…I did not want you back in Hell. Do you honestly think that a Lord of my ranking and power would have simply let you walk away if I did not want you to do just that? I could have had you back in the blink of an eye. But I did not want you back. You earned your freedom and then some because of what they did to you, and I will never forgive myself for that. I should have taken you topside with me. It is I that should be apologizing, but as you said, the past is the past and you are over it, and I am nearly over it. I am assuming you are with the Norse Gods.”
I rolled my eyes. “Smooth subject change, old man.”
He chuckle. “Way to throw etiquette out the damn window, young one.”
“Touché,” I said and smiled. I really needed to see him when this as all over, if I survived. “Yes, I’m with my Norse family.”
“Good. I will send a messenger with something, you will know it is secure,” he assured me—his not so subtle way of telling me that he is sending me something badass that breaks the rules and to trust him. “Angelus will be able to assist you with it.”
Hold the phone.
“How did you know Angelus was here?” I demanded. When he didn’t say anything I snarled. “Goddamn it, Adramelech, tell me!”
“Temper, temper,” he scolded, but I could hear the smile in his tone. “This was a setup, the whole game was. However, it is personal on both sides. If I tell you anything more than that it will jeopardize your safety more so than it already is. Be safe, and we will talk again soon.”
Before I could object, the blood in the chalice started to spin in a vortex, pulling down into the steam of the scrying device, leaving the black and gold cup empty.
“Damn it,” I mumbled when the delicate scrying device disappeared from my hand.
The loud knock at the door startled me.
“Did you fall in?”
“Yes, exactly that,” I groaned. “I’m completely naked and sprawled out on the floor if you want to come in. I’ve presented myself deliciously,” I sang. “Come, r
avish me and have your way with me and up and leave me like everyone else.”
To my surprise, Angelus opened the door and looked down at me sitting on the floor. “You are still clothed,” he informed me.
“I know,” I huffed and patted the spot next to me on the floor and he sat down. “I talked to Adramelech.”
Angelus nodded. “What did he say?” he asked but didn’t sound interested in the least.
“Lots actually.” That was an understatement. “He didn’t want me back in Hell. I have to admit, I have mixed feelings on that one. I feel slightly rejected, but at the same time grateful. I was always paranoid that one day he’d get bored with the few bobbles he has and come looking for me. He assured me that he didn’t want me back, so yippie skippie for me!” Faux, bullshit, enthusiasm noted. “He said that I wasn’t supposed to be included in the game, kind of like Loke I guess, though I’m not sure why he would have cared. If his directive is being so easily ignored, that means that this goes much higher than we initially thought. Adramelech also said that this was personal, but I don’t know what that means. Do you?”
The quiet angel next to me shook his head.
“Would you tell me if you did?” I asked.
Again he shook his head but that time he smirked.
“That’s what I thought,” I groaned, hugging my knees to my chest. “Adramelech knew that you were here.”
“That does not surprise me,” Angelus said to my surprise. “I need to figure out a plan of attack. Something that will cut this off and keep them from retaliating against you,” he said more to himself then me. “Perhaps the remaining angels would side with me, but I highly doubt it. They are going after the bigger prize, the bragging rights. Boastful pride is my least favorite sin.”
I wrapped my hand around his. “We need to figure this out,” I corrected. “The lone angelic wolf isn’t alone anymore.”
He looked over at me as if I just said the dumbest thing in the world, which I had to admit, I might have.
“Have you been watching Blades of Glory again?” he asked.
“No…well, it was on while Loke got drunk, but that isn’t the point. What I’m trying to say is,” I said and dug my nails into his hand when he laughed, “you aren’t alone. We aren’t alone. We have each other. I know that you don’t like me most of the time, and I can’t stand you nearly all of the time, but there are those little moments that you have which make me not want to kill you and to help see this through with you. If that means taking on Lucifer and Michael, or whoever, so be it.”
We sat in silence holding hands on the bathroom floor for hours, maybe even days, and my ass was beyond numb from not moving, but I was actually content sitting there with him. When Angelus wasn’t running his mouth, he wasn’t half bad. Could I, we, have honestly taken on Lucifer or Michael? Not likely. I didn’t think it was Michael though, he tended to be balls out follow daddy’s word to the letter, and Angelus had never said anything bad about him.
I was more concerned at that moment about what Adramelech had said. What exactly did he mean when he said that this was personal; personal for whom? I knew that Lucifer hated Adramelech, but what would that have to do with me? I hadn’t been in Hell or in his collection in centuries. Then again, Lucifer could hold a grudge like no other. I wondered if Adramelech did something to piss Lucifer off and that was why his directive was purposely, and maliciously, being disregarded. It was a possibility. That could have been why Adramelech was so pissed and concerned for me, he was guilty that I was having to deal with drama and attempts on my life again because of something that he did. The demon was really unlike any other.
What could Adramelech be sending me? I hoped was an alligator skin holster for Precious and Persuader. There was one at Neiman Marcus, the Edom store not the Eden one, that would have looked amazing with my custom pistol grips. He said that he’d get something fitted for them the last time I saw him, but that was a decade ago when he initially gave them to me. The demon would lose his head if it weren’t attached half of the time. Maybe he knew something that he didn’t want to risk by broadcasting over a scrying device. They weren’t the safest means of communication, but they were the easiest and quickest way to reach out and touch someone in Hell.
That actually made me curious as to why Adramelech specifically sought me out a decade ago so he could give me Precious and Persuader. Prior to that, I used demonic blades, much like my sullen angel; an old school type of repoing. I wasn’t complaining, I could wield a blade, but I love my guns. They were badass, just like me, and they finish the job quickly and efficiently, and saved me thousands on dry cleaning alone. Plus, Precious as an angelic weapon, as Karael found out firsthand, and from what Angelus was hinting at, those are damn near impossible to obtain. What was even more impossible to find was a bitch wielding both angelic and demonic weapons.
That revelation was starting to make me question a lot more than I ever had in the past. Why hadn’t I ever thought about that before? Oh, I know why, Zion’s rule Number 2: you never ask questions when you are given a kick ass, über rare, super important, gift, especially the kind made out of platinum. I needed to talk to Adramelech again. He was keeping something from me, something that would ultimately mean life or death, but which and for who?
“This is going to turn very ugly, very fast,” Angelus said, breaking the silence and Karael’s archangel dagger appeared in his hand.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’m in your batch, aren’t I?” I whispered.
He turned and looked at me. “Yes.”
I don’t have to worry about killing him after all.
He was going to kill me.
Lovely.
“Um, can you try not to ruin my blouse?” I asked. “I know it’s stupid, but it cost a lot, and even though I’ll be reduced to ash, and won’t be leaving a very good looking corpse, it’s a mental thing to find solace in, like the dust in the wind thing.”
Angelus spun the blade around in his hand then jabbed it at me, the hilt hitting into my breast. “I have been meaning to give this to you since you killed Karael,” he said, taking my hand, forcing my fingers to wrap around the white leather wrapped hilt. He pressed the tip of the dagger into the soft tan flesh over his heart.
I fought against him, trying to pull the deadly blade away, but he wouldn’t lessen his hold.
“You have to kill me,” he said.
My eyes widened. “Are you on fucking drugs?” I demanded, struggling against him. “I’m not going to kill you. I can’t!”
“Yes. You. Will.”
Now he was belittling me again.
“No. I. Won’t,” I spit back.
“Why not?” he hissed and lowered his face to mine. “Give me one good reason.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“That is your reason?” he was skeptical.
I shrugged, his grip on my hand softening slightly. “It’s as good of a reason as any.”
“Do you love me?” he demanded.
Not when you demand me to say it like that.
“How can a demonic whore love anyone?” I countered, totally not about to admit that I might, indeed, love him.
He raised an eyebrow. “You have repeatedly corrected me about the whore thing, and now you play the whore card when it is convenient.”
Of course he would have thrown that back in my face.
“Sure. Sounds like a good plan,” I grumbled.
“There is no other way,” he informed me, his vice-like grip returning.
Stubborn ass angel.
“I can’t kill you, Angelus. I won’t.”
“You have to, Zion,” he informed me in the coldest, most detached tone I had ever heard from him.
I stubbornly shook my head. “No. Volac stumbled across their plans, and that is why they killed him. They are specifically trying to put us against each other. I don’t know why. He couldn’t figure it out, but I won’t fight you, I can’t!”
An
gelus’ eyes burned solid gold as they worked over my face. “Zion, you have to kill me.” He started to push the dagger into his chest, easily piercing through the muscular flesh, so I put Persuader against my head. “What are you doing?” he demanded, dropping his hand from mine.
“It’s both of us or neither of us, Chief. Plain and simple,” I informed him and awkwardly crawled across the bathroom floor after the retreating angel. I’m sure we looked completely ridiculous, but he left me no choice. Persuader was still against the side of my head when I cornered him against the vanity. “They want us to have this big, balls out, going down in a blaze of glory, Hollywood inspired, Tony Montana styled massacre. Is that what I want? No. Is it what I will give them?” I shrugged; I hadn’t thought about it. “Maybe, but I don’t think that it will have the end result that they are looking for. I’m not going to let you lose your soul because you forced me to kill you. That is still suicide, and your father would be very disappointed in you.”
Angelus snarled at the mention of his absent father and because I was right, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “Give me one reason,” he countered.
“For what?” I asked.
The verbal evasion was pissing me off.
Angelus got in my face again. “One reason why you shouldn’t kill me,” he snarled.
I nodded. “As much as you irritate the living hell out of me, and make me feel like an inferior being and beneath you, and like a two-bit whore that shouldn’t be breathing the same air as you…you know, come to think of it, why not?” I leveled the gun at his head, and he raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Fine, whatever,” I huffed and made a face at him. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Happy?”
Carefully he pushed the gun away from his head.
“Not even close,” he whispered.
“You never are,” I informed him, dismissing my gun. “What do we do?”
“Give them what they want,” he said, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear for me. His fingers lingered longer than needed, and caressed the contours of my ear, but I wasn’t complaining.
More than once I tried say that giving them what they wanted wasn’t going to happen, but every time I opened my mouth, the words weren’t there. I was completely content in the moment, impending demise and all, just sitting in the bathroom, on the floor, with an angel backed into the corner, that just tried to force me to kill him, looking into his black and amber eyes while envisioning the things that I wanted him to do to me, and all of the naughty things that I wanted to do to him.