by Izzy Shows
Had our Father determined that I was beyond saving?
I hadn’t heard of that happening yet. None of my brothers had ever reported that their assigned angel had actually tried to kill them, though they did not have the relationship with their angels that I had with mine. None of them enjoyed a back-and-forth in the way that Cass and I did—or at least, in the way we had.
But, still, they would have told me if their hunters had stopped trying to subdue them and had instead shifted to trying to kill them.
“Cass, please…” I heard my voice break, and shame rushed through me.
I shouldn’t be feeling…
It was distracting enough that I dropped back to the floor, and she rushed at me again.
Without thinking, I hurled a bolt of demonic energy at her and rushed to the door of the warehouse, but she beat me there, sword raised and prepared take off my head.
Eyes wide, I launched myself into the air again, the only place I could be assured of my safety now.
I wasn’t going to wait around so much as another minute. I could figure this out and come after her again later.
I threw my energy up into the ceiling and blasted a hole through it, then flew out.
All the way home, I tried to think of what had gone wrong, but I came up with no answer.
The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth.
Nineteen
Once again, I limped into my home, bleeding and broken.
But this time, I wasn’t laughing.
Lilith was there when I entered, as if she had been waiting for me to return, and her eyes were filled with concern—eyes that I could not meet for more than a moment, because that concern would be my undoing. My heart was filled with a kind of pain I had not expected and a concern I shouldn’t have felt.
Concern for Cassiel. Perhaps even concern for myself, because I hated the thought that Cass might have given up on me.
“What is it, Malphas? What’s wrong?” Lilith asked with a pleading note in her voice. “Tell me.”
I shrugged her off when she tried to lay a hand on my shoulder and limped across the room to the bar cart.
I needed a drink, something to take the edge off and make me forget what had happened. I knew I had thought to figure out what had gone wrong with Cassiel, but now I wanted to forget.
I poured myself a drink, then set the decanter down on the cart again and stared at the glass in front of me, trying to get my thoughts back under control, because they were running around and around in circles, not forming any kind of coherent sentences. I couldn’t make sense of them, except for one litany that kept coming back around.
Something is wrong with Cass.
Acknowledging the thought again caused a pain in my chest like a vise around my heart. I didn’t know what could be wrong, though I did have my suspicions.
God, my Father, had given up on me after all. He had changed his mind and no longer wished to bring his first children back to the fold, having rather decided that he was much better off with those who remained and his perfect little humans to keep him company.
My lips twisted into a snarl, and the next breath I took came on the back of a shudder. But I calmed myself.
In truth, this was not what had upset me.
I had long ago come to terms with the fact that there would be a day when my Father turned his gaze from us, and I had made my peace with it. He was not a father, much like my brothers were not brothers, not in the familial sense of the word. Not in such a way that I could call my relationship with them anything close to fond. There was no bond between any of us, though it had seemed almost as if Asmodeus had almost wanted one.
I might need to talk to him about that in the future.
But that was neither here nor there. The true cause of this new pain—pain that had not quite reached the threshold of what I had been experiencing of late, but was still terrible in its own right—did call my Father its source, but it was not because he had turned from me.
It was because I would miss Cassiel. Because, in a way, I had thought…
“I won’t think of that now,” I muttered. “It does me no good.”
With that, I downed the bourbon I had poured for myself and raised the decanter again. This time, I hesitated as I was about to pour another drink, then shoved the glass to the side and walked away from the cart, decanter still in hand.
Why bother pouring glass after glass when I could drink from the source itself?
“What won’t you think of, Malphas?” Lilith’s voice was quiet. She was perched on the coffee table, facing the couch that stood between us. She gestured at the couch, inviting me to sit.
I debated leaving her there as I took a swallow of the amber liquid, my eyes locked on hers all the while.
Lilith was too much sometimes.
Too much emotion. She felt in ways that no demon—Fallen, cambion, or nephilim—could ever even think to feel. She herself had been human.
In fact, she was the second human who had ever existed, created from the dirt of the Garden in the same way that her intended husband had been.
Because she had been human before she became a succubus, she had been able to hold on to her feelings all the while. She cared with all her heart, hated with every fiber of her being, and laughed with her whole soul.
Things that I would never be able to do, things that confused me even to this day.
The rage I was capable of feeling was a paltry shadow in comparison to even the slightest temper Lilith might call forth.
But did she hurt worse than I when this kind of pain came to her?
I had to wonder about that.
It was that thought that carried me forward to the couch, that found me sitting down across from her. I crossed one ankle over my other knee and leaned back into the couch, regarding her with wary eyes.
“What won’t you think of?” she asked me again, and I saw the concern in her eyes.
I couldn’t help it; I had to look away from that raw emotion. Emotion directed at me, of all people. I was unworthy of that gift.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, and took another swallow. “I don’t want to think about it.”
She ducked her head, heaving out a sigh and staring at the floor. Her leg twisted as she played with her foot, shifting it back and forth.
“All right. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I only thought it might help—that I might be able to help. You used to let me in, before…”
My face tightened, and I knew that I must have gone pale, for when she darted her eyes up at me, she sucked in a sharp breath.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t ever speak of that. Never again.”
But it was too late. My mind was already following the trail she had set out. Racing back in time to what felt like an entirely different life. When Lilith and I had been together, but of course, we weren’t alone.
Lilith and I had been quite the pair, legendary in our own right, but we would have destroyed one another if it hadn’t been for her. The woman whose name I did not dare speak, the one who had burned brightly in our lives. She had taken the pain we would have caused one another along with the pleasure, and had somehow turned it into something beautiful.
Everything she touched was beautiful, so that shouldn’t have been a surprise.
But it was not just that that we had loved about her—it was her mind as well. She had been devious in all things, always looking for the next little trick to pull, always getting the lot of us into danger.
But we had never felt more alive than when we had been with her.
Lilith’s hand on my knee yanked me back to reality.
“You were gone, Malphas. Your eyes…”
“You did this,” I said, my voice hoarse. “You made me think…”
“It isn’t over, Malphas. You know that as well as I do. Well, for you, anyway. That light will never be mine again, but that is all right with me. I am content w
ith the memories in a way you will never be. She was your love, Malphas. You’ve never given your heart to another, and you never will. Not like her.”
My vision swam, and I realized with a start that there were tears in my eyes. Hastily, I blinked them away and scowled at her.
“I will not speak of this. You should know better, Lilith. It is not a safe topic.”
She quieted, apparently somewhat satisfied with her little outburst and willing to leave it alone now.
I drank again, to focus on the burn of alcohol dragging its way down my throat and the heat it provided in my belly. It would not get me drunk—it wasn’t strong enough for that—but it provided a little distraction.
It provided a little buzz that took the sharpness away and left a dull ache in its place. I could still think, but it was a little harder to get everything to make sense.
“You won’t speak of anything tonight. I’m worried about you, and you’ve been in Hell for days. We both know you can’t stand that place any more than I can.”
I flinched. “That’s my home, Lilith. I built it.”
“And you hate it! You would run out of there as fast as you could if you thought you could safely do it. You hate going there, and you hate dealing with the demons. You have no love for them in your heart, no fondness, not even a passing interest in whether they live or die. You only do it for your brothers, to keep them happy.”
“That’s enough, Lilith,” I said, a warning note in my voice.
I didn’t see why she had to push all my buttons this evening. It was as if a hornet had buzzed its way up her ass, and she was taking it out on me. Normally, it was just one or two things that she would ride me about.
Tonight, it was like she had peered into my brain and found everything that would cut through me and was throwing it all at me piece by piece.
Even now, she was staring back at me, a defiant look in her eyes. Of all the creatures in the many realms, Lilith did not fear me. She never had, and that was part of the initial appeal she had had for me. Now, it was annoying, because I would have dearly loved to extract myself from this conversation by spooking her a bit.
Instead, I allowed myself to fall back on logic. She couldn’t very well nag me if I had her talking about something else.
“Do you feel pain, Lilith?” I asked, watching her carefully.
Her eyes filled with surprise. “Pain? Of course.”
“No, no, pain inside of you. Like a knife carving through your insides, and the knife is somehow on fire at the same time, but it can’t seem to kill you. It keeps you alive and in agony. Have you felt that?”
Her features softened with an emotion that looked suspiciously like pity.
I hadn’t wanted her pity, damn it.
“Yes, Malphas, I have felt that, a thousand times over.”
“What is it like for you?”
She darted a look down at the floor, capturing her lower lip between her teeth. “That’s a very personal question.”
“When have we ever kept things from one another?”
“Why do you need to know what emotional pain is like for me?”
I latched on to that. “Emotional pain?”
She frowned as she looked up at me. “Well, of course. What did you think we were talking about?”
“I don’t know. But I shouldn’t know what that is.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment, then she grinned. “No, I suppose you shouldn’t. But you do. So, that’s that.”
“Do you think I’m infected, Lilith?” I asked bluntly, unwilling to beat around the bush any further.
The thought had occurred to me during the interviews with my soldiers, and it was present again now that we were talking about emotions, about things that I shouldn’t be able to feel.
She paled, then straightened her shoulders and peered fiercely at my chest.
I held still, unwilling—unable—to move beneath that gaze. I didn’t even take a breath.
Minutes passed, and at last she let her posture relax. I took my cue from her and did the same.
“Well?”
“You’re fine,” she said with a bright smile. “Your soul is intact.”
I grimaced. “That is not as comforting as you would think it is.”
“And why ever not?” She bristled. “Believe me, Malphas, that is not a thing you want to go through.”
“I know, I know. I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, waving a hand at her as if that would calm her down. “But it leaves me still questioning why I feel different of late.”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure we can figure it out, once you have your soldiers under control.”
I nodded, feeling a little better. “Yeah. There’s nothing the two of us can’t do, eh?”
“Exactly.” She brightened up a bit. “Now, are you going to tell me what put you into such a sour mood when you got home?”
I groaned, wiping a hand over my face. “That again.”
“Yes, that again. Come on, out with it.”
“I had another fight with Cassiel—and I’m worried, damn it.” I couldn’t look at her as I spoke, unwilling to glimpse what she might be thinking.
I did hear the breath of relief she let out, though. “That’s good. You’re taking it seriously. I was beginning to worry.”
“No, you don’t understand. It isn’t good at all. Something’s wrong with Cass, but I don’t really know what, or why she’s acting the way she is. She tried to kill me today—actually kill me. You know how we are, Lilith. We’re never out for blood, not really. We hunt each other for sport, knock each other around a little bit, and call it a day. It’s fun. But she wouldn’t talk to me today, wouldn’t say so much as a word. She wouldn’t even curse me in the middle of the fight. She just kept coming at me, stronger than she’s ever been, set on killing me. I think perhaps my Father has decided I am not worth rehabilitation any longer, and has tasked her with my removal…” I trailed off, looking past Lilith as I spoke. “But something else was odd.”
When I looked back at Lilith, I saw that her face was pale and drawn tight. She was gripping the edge of the coffee table so tightly, I thought she might break clean through the old oak.
“What else was odd?” she asked, her voice every bit as tight as her face.
“She wouldn’t fly after me,” I said. “I took to the air for a brief respite, and she wouldn’t follow me. She didn’t call her wings to her. She just glared up at me from the ground. The second I touched back onto the ground, she came at me again, and then when I went up into the air once more, she didn’t follow. I ended up having to blast a hole through the roof of the warehouse we were fighting in to get away from her. She was so ferocious on the ground, it was the only way to get out without doing her serious harm.”
“And you wouldn’t do that, even when she came after you.” Her voice was soft. It was a statement, not a question.
“Of course not,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “That’s not how things are supposed to be.”
“I have to wonder—she is not acting like an angel, Malphas.”
I tensed. “Don’t say that.” My voice was hoarse once more, and horror was beginning to dawn on me.
“You have to have thought it yourself.”
“No. No, that’s not possible.”
Infected.
The word that neither of us would say, not about Cassiel.
It couldn’t be that an angel had been tainted as well.
“I don’t see how things could have gotten so bad so fast,” she said, clearly thinking aloud.
I stood up, clutching the decanter tight with one hand, and began to pace. “You don’t really think it’s possible, do you?” I asked as I dragged my free hand through my hair.
“I do. I’m sorry, but I do.”
With a roar, I threw the decanter at the wall, letting the rage consume me to battle the pain in my heart.
But it could not hide the truth.
Cassiel was my friend, and I
was going to lose her.
Twenty
I hated every single one of these pathetic creatures.
Seven demons sat waiting in their cells for me, waiting for me to make up my mind about them. About what to do.
I had decided last night—or, rather, the matter had been decided for me.
Cassiel was tainted, and I couldn’t stand by and watch her die. I wasn’t ready for that, wasn’t ready for her to disappear from my life, replaced by some other angel who couldn’t come close to filling her shoes.
Outwardly, I appeared every bit as composed as I did on any other day. My shirt was well-pressed, as were my pants, and my tie was straight. My hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place, and there were no shadows under my eyes to betray the pain that had consumed me the night before.
Inside, I was dying. I felt like a man condemned.
I had already lost Blair, a woman who had always been forbidden for me. I wasn’t about to lose one of the only friends I had. No matter how twisted and odd that friendship might look to anyone on the outside, Cassiel was important to me. Our fight, our game of hide and seek, was one of the few constants I had had in my life after the Fall, something I could depend on, something that was not quite as painful as all the other things that had surrounded me at the time.
And just as she had done before I had noticed the taint in her yesterday, she had provided a distraction even back then.
She had been a part of my life even before the Fall, though not such a big part of it then. Still, just as all the others, she had been there from the very beginning.
And yes, others had died in battle since then. It happened, although it was rare.
But not Cassiel. She couldn’t die.
I wouldn’t let her.
It is not the taint that would kill her, and you know it.
I resisted the urge to snarl at the offending thought, instead opting to ignore it altogether. I wouldn’t think about that, couldn’t think about that.
It hurt too much.