by S J Doran
Someone was calling for him and using the celestial Voice of Power.
And he was just curious enough to go investigate.
CHAPTER TWENTY -EIGHT
shepherd to the fallen
He slipped through Asurim’s portal, following the call of the voice, coming through in a field that stretched to craggy cliffs that dropped into the ocean, the suffocating ley-lines telling him he was on the Mortal Plane. He hadn’t known what to expect, he’d only held rulership of the Hells for the past five years, he’d never had any personal dealings with an angel before. Cass himself had never rated their attention.
The celestial stood with his legs braced, sword held across his well-muscled body in a battle stance. He stood with the sun to his back, lighting up his golden hair and putting his facial features in shadow, lit up eerily from the glow of his flaming sword.
He looked longingly at the Angel’s sword. He’d heard stories, never set eyes on one, they were specifically forged to mete out Divine retribution. Had he been called here to meet his end?
“Cassius.” The Angel said, sheathing that lovely sword and offering a nod.
Guess he wasn’t going to die today.
The angel held his hand out with an assured cockiness that had Cass mystified. He reached out his hand back, unsure of what to expect, and was flooded with a wave of serenity when their hands touched.
It nearly brought him to his knees.
Was that what peace and stillness felt like in a soul?
The Angel pulled his hand back, shaking it, a grimace on his beautiful face. Cass took note of that- and the panic in his eyes.
“You can call me Sid.” The angel- Sid said, averting his eyes and stepping aside to reveal another.
Their hair was close to the same color, their builds equally large, but that’s where the similarities ended. This one had twining black marks swirling across his naked body, covered only by iridescent black wings- much like his father’s. Cass took a staggered step forward.
“He’s… fallen?” Cass turned to face Sid. There hadn’t been an angel that fell— not in his lifetime—
“You have to take him to the Nessus.” Sid said, eyes darting frantically. “They’re coming. They expect me to strip his wings- to end him- and I won’t.” Sid straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, moving fully out of Cass’s way.
“I was given your name with assurance he’d be safe with you.”
Cass’s brows scrunched together. Who in their right mind thought he’d be a good example of responsibility?
“Who?” Cass looked between the two angels.
“Azadiel.” Sid waved his hand, “don’t ask, there’s a family connection from way back.”
Cass wasn’t going to ask about the connection, but it had been on the tip of his tongue to ask who Azadiel was. Then he remembered. The demon who owed no fealty in the Hells, the one who had pushed him to make an alliance with his priestess. Who obviously thought Cass was up to the task of taking in stray angels.
“Promise me you’ll see him safe.” Sid was alert, constantly scanning the skies.
Cass couldn’t help but stare. The newly fallen angel was hunched with defeat, the grief pouring off him a palpable thing.
“What are you offering in return of this favour?” Cass arched a brow.
“I really don’t have time to negotiate,” Sid said, twitchy and looking over his shoulders, “I’ll owe you a favour, within reasonable parameters in the future, King Cassius.”
He nodded, liking Sid just for the fact he’d used his title.
He stepped past Sid and helped the dark angel to his feet, that same soothing peace washing over him as they touched.
“His name is Jez’Piel.” Sid said, his head hung, “and he was my friend.”
Cass swallowed hard, moving his arm under the fallen’s, helping to prop him to his feet. He stood a few inches shorter, but was built larger than Cass, battle hardened muscle and well toned bulk.
“I’ll do what I can.” Cass said, wincing when he felt the reverberation in the air. Celestials were closing in, he felt it in his bones.
“Leave me.” Sid cried out, pushing at Cass and taking a few stumbling steps back.
He pulled the angel through the open portal, into his own bedroom, easing him onto the bed. Questions wouldn’t do. He had no answers. He wasn’t sure how this sort of thing was usually handled. Couldn’t be very often an angel fell from grace.
His burnished gold hair was long enough to completely obscure his face, all Cass could see was bulky muscles covered in odd twining sigils.
“Are you going to bring me to Azadiel’s realm?” The angel muttered.
Azadiel’s realm? He hadn’t seen that particular demon in at least a century, and knew less than nothing about him. Memory struck, his head starting to ache. Had Azadiel not been there, in his dream, with his ghost?
“We promise to behave, Az. It’s not like we can reach to touch each other inappropriately.” He was trying to be serious and responsible, but her unheeded giggles broke him, his face cracking into a grin, then a snicker escaped.
“And I’ll trust you at your word when the two of you learn to respect the gravity of this entire situation.” Azadiel spoke, his angelic features solemn.
Cass shook off the memory, annoyed at the teasing fragments.
“Look. Jez’Piel? Jez? I’m gonna call you Jez.” He went to his closet, grabbing up some clothes, thinking twice about the shirt. How would he get it on over those wings? They were massive. Probably close to twenty feet across if they were spread out, he tried picturing it in his mind.
“I have one fuck of a headache, I haven’t slept, might even still be working through my last poisoning,” Cass continued, tossing pants at Jez who thanked with what amounted to a grunt. “pull yourself together and put some clothes on.”
The angel’s head snapped up, and he finally got a good look at his features; sharply hewn, every angle set perfectly against the other- molded by divine hand. His eyes were the colour of an inland lake, a penetrating shade of green, beautiful even when filled with disgust.
Cass turned his head, trying not to let it get to him
“You’re enjoying this.” Jez said, his tone cold. “How amusing to see an angel lose his grace and ties to everything he’s known, is that it?”
No. Cass was watching him pull up his jogging pants, the ripple of his abdominal muscles as he eased them over his ass. He preferred women, was currently fixated on one in particular, but historically speaking, his bed had always been filled with a male.
Jez was far larger than Bas, larger than any male Cass had brought to his bed- but equally as beautiful. Hells. He was missing Basileus. His chest was a raw ache that the demon used to fill.
Or that might be the sharp sting of betrayal.
“You can rest here.” Cass said, sitting beside him on the bed.
Jez scoffed, inching away. “You think I don’t know what you are, lord of sin? Prince of Lust, able to seduce any being whether they would care to be or not.”
Something inside of him shriveled. He had used it as a weapon, couldn’t deny it. The judgment— disgust— in Jez’s eyes made him feel lesser for it. As though he didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as someone so fundamentally good.
“Your power does dark things, but you’re far more than just your power. Besides, I love that you are scarier than the worst of the monsters here.”
Someone at some point had thought him worthy of love.
“Are your hands so clean you think to judge me, holy boy?” Cass finally answered, sneering at the angel. “You’re not making me feel very sympathetic to your situation.”
Jez dropped his head. “I wouldn’t dare.” He whispered. “Obviously I’m now irredeemable myself, or I wouldn’t be here.” He finally looked around the room, his eyes widening briefly at the sight of all the books. “In hell’s library?”
Cass’s brow furrowed, “maybe once. I’ve moved the fortres
s to suit my needs, now it’s my bedchamber and private suites.”
The angel moaned low, dropping his face into his hands. “What have I become?”
There was nothing Cass could say to comfort him, he understood the flux the angel was in and knew there was no reassurance when your world cracked open beneath your feet. His own angst matched the angel’s, seeking commiseration.
“May I…” Cass leaned closer, the urge to comfort the angel oddly strong, “touch your wings?” His father used to backhand him for even trying.
Jez’s head jerked back, his eyes blinked. “Yes?”
He traced a feather with a fingertip, then rubbed it between finger and thumb, awed. Jez let out a long breath, and Cass felt a hit of lust. His breath caught, and he pulled his hand back.
“Apologies.” Cass grasped his hands together, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Jez’s face shaded to bright red, “no. it’s okay. Run your hand down it if you’d like.” He looked over his shoulder at his own wings, “they’re so …dark now.”
Cass’s hand shook as he ran it down the incredible softness, Jez swallowing audibly.
“It feels nice.” Jez said, his body relaxing, then he lay back, Cass continuing to stroke the wing that was arched to cover his chest. He couldn’t help himself.
They were of a like situation, the two of them sunk beyond their depth.
“Is this where you corrupt me, Lord of Sin?” Jez said, jaw clenched.
Cass shook his head sadly, “perhaps this is where you heal me.” The angel oozed peace and serenity, a balm to his aching body and turbulent mind.
Jez flinched back when Cass’s hand accidentally grazed his side. He was so physically exhausted he’d given no thought to seducing the angel, but Jez looked at him warily… and with fear. A sharp reminder of just who Cass was. A demon. Not to be trusted.
“Sleep with one eye open in the viper's pit…”
“I wouldn’t…” he cleared his throat. “I would never touch you against your will.”
At that, the angel’s face crumpled into despair, wide tracks of tears falling freely down his cheeks.
“I have a will of my own.” Jez said quietly.
Cass almost smiled. The thought of being upset that no one controlled your will anymore plainly absurd. But not. Had he ever truly been his own man? He’d been manipulated, shaped and used as a pawn for all of his memory. And here he was, regretting sentencing his lover who had betrayed him in more ways than he could fully remember.
Cass felt a shift in his energy, something inside of him latching onto the energies the angel was emanating.
Jez swiped at his face, “I feel your pain. Like an erosion of the pit of your soul. What pains you like this? Is it because you’re demon born?” His words were soft, wondrous. Curious.
Better than his condescension.
“It’s not singular to demons, if that is what you’re asking.” Cass said, his chest beginning to ache, only to be soothed once more.
There was a brisk knock at the door and Cass jumped to his feet, hastily pulling the curtains closed around his bed before opening the door.
Levistus moved past him and walked right into his bedroom, Cass shutting the door behind him. His chest tightened right back up, a tangle of mixed emotions clouding over the peace.
“It is done, my Lord.” Levistus’s gleaming eyes turned to him.
His bed creaked from the angel shifting around, a ruffling of feathers apparent. Levistus’s eyes shot over to the bed, body tense with shock.
“What,” Cass’s voice cracked. “What did you do?”
Levistus narrowed his eyes on him. “What did you do?”
Cass stepped back from the blackness seeping out of the other demon. Then stopped, pulling himself together. Yes. He was young. But he was powerful in his own right. He straightened, narrowing his eyes right back.
Levistus sighed, shaking his head. “I’ve bound Basileus to the mortal realm. He will forever be barred from entering the Hells, portals are now beyond him.”
Cass froze, feeling the blood drain from his face.
His refuge.
Forever tainted- he would never be able to go there without looking over his shoulder. Never be able to bask in the sun or walk the coast of Normandy-
“Though I would have preferred giving him over to the Erinyes, he was born of one and would have been treated with deference.” Levistus continued talking, not realizing that Cass’s life had just finished shattering.
That was the only place he had left to run to.
He was wielding a double-edged sword in Levistus. So long as he held the handle…
The demon moved closer, touching Cass’s arm. “You’re looking much better today.”
Cass nodded, still unable to catch his breath.
“Next time you go to that realm, I’ll join you.” Levistus kept fishing, trying to find the sore spot.
“Yes.” Cass said, meeting his gaze.
“I have connections that have been waiting to hear from me for many long years.” Levistus nodded, giving Cass’s arm a brisk rub.
He turned and stared at Cass’s bed for a long moment, mumbling under his breath “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers-”
Cass moved between Levistus and the bed. He wasn’t going to let anyone steal that peace from him. Not now.
“Be aware of what you are getting yourself into, Cassius.” Levistus said, using his name for the first time. “There are some enemies that are beyond even you.”
Cassius nodded and breathed a sigh of relief when Levistus left the room.
He crawled back into bed beside the angel and closed his eyes, wallowing in serenity.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
someone has to do it
She was going through the motions while lost in a trance, removed from the sights and sounds which precede death. The familiar swish of her blade, the dripping of blood down the altar to pool at her feet, that final gasp of breath.
Most of the ancient deities demanded their tributes in blood and suffering. Their power derived from those final moments in which her victims cried out to the gods for mercy. It was no use. Their suffering great and their deaths violent, for in their greed the gods knew no mercy.
It is why she had closed off. Dissociation. It wasn’t her committing these vile acts, it wasn’t she who was causing such suffering, it wasn’t her who once suffered similarly for no other reason than it brought others joy. At least these poor fools had been offered death in the end. Another life, different girl...
Blessedly, her final sacrifice had been different, not one offered to the ancient gods, but to the Nessus. This life had been sacrificed in the name of the King of Hell, Cassius. And in his name, Amara could afford to be merciful.
She had selected this sacrifice with care, had ordered her bathed with the finest oils and groomed by her personal attendants. The woman had spent the night embraced in the arms of worshippers, had been loved and cared for without corrupting her innocence. And finally, she had been given laced wine to drink, her cup filled until her mind was consumed by drug-induced euphoria, and her body rendered numb to the cut of her blade. No fear, no pain. The only mercy she was capable to give to one whose soul she had just condemned for eternity.
“The Nessus was weakened beyond expectation, it seems he has not been feeding regularly at all. Stubborn demon.”
Amara’s eyes opened slowly when she could finally release her connection to the Nessus, her gaze locking with the sightless eyes of her latest victim. The female had been younger than her, a white witch not even frozen into her immortality yet. She had been innocent, pure and brimming with life.
And Amara had just fed her soul to the Hells, where it would be consumed by corruption until nothing of that purity and innocence remained. She had destroyed her, for him.
The familiar weight of ceremonial robes settled over her shoulders, covering her bared and dampened skin. “She made for a worthy sacrifice Sarratum
...”
A humorless smile curled Amara’s lips at the sounds of Elmira’s husky voice, sure that her oracle sensed the growing melancholy within her. Her crimson tinted fingers brushed over the eyelids of the dead woman, closing those large grey eyes a final time.
“And still Hell demands more, it’s hunger grows by the day…” The corruption was an endless void, and as greedy and unyielding as she knew its king to be.
Her muscles ached, her head thrummed. From dusk till dawn lives had been surrendered to her blade, blood had been spilled, souls had been offered, energy had been exchanged. The apex of the blood moon celebrated throughout all of Asurim and each of the nine temples with the spilling of blood. Much divine energy had been harvested, it’s power would help strengthen the essence of Asurim, recharge its magic and heal their dying realm. But for how long?
Experience ensured she didn’t lose her footing on the slippery stone as she effortlessly descended the steep stairs, her bared feet and the hem of her robes ended up coated in spilled life’s blood by the time she reached the bottom. The sea of worshippers spread apart before her, and she wasted not a moment in her hurry to escape the stifling hall. As much as she craved the solitude of her chambers and the comfort of a warm bath, there was work to be done yet.
“Sarratum sa, there is one here to see you.”
Er- Agate’s voice had Amara stop in her tracks before turning to her. Her attendant knew not to intrude when she was heading towards the Inner sanctum unless it was urgent. “Yes?”
The form standing behind her had Amara momentarily come up short. The last time she had seen the Fae was over half a century ago, and their encounter had placed the woman in large debt with her. It was the dark king’s sister, and bride to the Blood lord who had come seeking an audience.
“Alura, how surprising to find you returned to Asurim after so many years. Has my spell been broken?”
“No, Jareth remains unaware, and you promised…”
With a wave of her of her hand Amara silenced her. “Yes, yes-I gave you my vow. The Blood lord will not learn from me that it is dark magic which keeps him from succumbing to the blood lust. A pity the vampire will never know how much he owes to you.”