Azagoth
A Demonica Novella
By Larissa Ione
1001 Dark Nights
Azagoth
A Demonica Novella
By Larissa Ione
1001 Dark Nights
Copyright 2014 Larissa Ione
ISBN: 978-1-940887-04-3
Forward: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose
Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Book Description
Even in the fathomless depths of the underworld and the bleak chambers of a damaged heart, the bonds of love can heal…or destroy.
He holds the ability to annihilate souls in the palm of his hand. He commands the respect of the most dangerous of demons and the most powerful of angels. He can seduce and dominate any female he wants with a mere look. But for all Azagoth’s power, he’s bound by shackles of his own making, and only an angel with a secret holds the key to his release.
She’s an angel with the extraordinary ability to travel through time and space. An angel with a tormented past she can’t escape. And when Lilliana is sent to Azagoth’s underworld realm, she finds that her past isn’t all she can’t escape. For the irresistibly sexy fallen angel known as Azagoth is also known as the Grim Reaper, and when he claims a soul, it’s forever…
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The First Night
by Shayla Black, Lexi Blake & M.J. Rose
Table of Contents
Forward
Glossary
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Also From 1001 Dark Nights
Author Acknowledgment
About Larissa Ione
An excerpt from Revenant by Larissa Ione
Also by Larissa Ione
Special Thanks
One Thousand and One Dark Nights
Once upon a time, in the future…
I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.
I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and
the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast
library at my father’s home and collected thousands
of volumes of fantastic tales.
I learned all about ancient races and bygone
times. About myths and legends and dreams of all
people through the millennium. And the more I read
the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered
that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually
become part of them.
I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher
and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I
would not be telling you this tale now.
But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off
with bravery.
One afternoon, curious about the myth of the
Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to
see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar
(Persian: شهریار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then
sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written
and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,
the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand
women.
Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived
in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged
places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had
never occurred before and that still to this day, I
cannot explain.
Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have
taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can
protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to
protect herself and stay alive.
Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.
And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a
point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.
And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that
he might hear the rest of my dark tale.
As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new
one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before
you now.
GLOSSARY
Fallen Angel—Believed to be evil by most humans, fallen angels can be grouped into two categories: True Fallen and Unfallen. Unfallen angels have been cast from Heaven and are earthbound and wingless, living a life in which they are neither truly good nor truly evil. In this state, they can, rarely, earn their way back into Heaven. Or they can choose to enter Sheoul, the demon realm, in order to complete their fall, grow new wings, and become True Fallens, taking their places as demons at Satan’s side.
Harrowgate—Vertical portals, invisible to humans, which demons use to travel between locations on Earth and Sheoul. A very few beings can summon their own personal Harrowgates.
Memitim—Earthbound angels assigned to protect important humans called Primori. Memitim remain earthbound until they complete their duties, at which time they Ascend, earning their wings and entry into Heaven. See: Primori
Primori—Humans and demons whose lives are fated to affect the world in some crucial way.
Radiant—The most powerful class of Heavenly angel in existence, save Metatron. Unlike other angels, Radiants can wield unlimited power in all realms and can travel freely through Sheoul, with very few exceptions. The designation is awarded to only one angel at a time. Two can never exist simultaneously, and they cannot be destroyed except by God or Satan. The fallen angel equivalent is called a Shadow Angel. See: Shadow Angel
Shadow Angel—The most powerful class of fallen angel in existence, save Satan and Lucifer. Unlike other fallen angels, Shadow Angels can wield unlimited power in all realms, and they possess the ability to gain entrance into Heaven. The designation is awarded to only one angel at a time, and they can never exist without their equivalent, a Radiant. Shadow Angels cannot be destroyed except by God or Satan. The Heavenly angel equivalent is called a Radiant. See: Radiant.
Sheoul—Demon realm. Located on its own plane deep in the bowels of the Earth, accessible to most only by Harrowgates and hellmouths.
Sheoul-gra—A holding tank for demon souls. A realm that exists independently of Sheoul, it is overseen by Azagoth, also known as the Grim Reaper. Within Sheoul-gra is the Inner Sanctum, where demon souls go to be kept in torturous limbo until they can be reborn.
Sheoulic—Universal dem
on language spoken by all, although many species also speak their own language.
Shrowd—When angels travel through time, they exist within an impenetrable bubble known as a shrowd. While in the shrowd, angels are invisible and cannot interact with anyone—human, demon, or angel—outside the shrowd. Breaking out of the shrowd is a serious transgression that can, and has, resulted in execution.
Ter’taceo—Demons who can pass as human, either because their species is naturally human in appearance, or because they can shapeshift into human form.
Watchers—Individuals assigned to keep an eye on the Four Horsemen. As part of the agreement forged during the original negotiations between angels and demons that led to Ares, Reseph, Limos, and Thanatos being cursed to spearhead the Apocalypse, one Watcher is an angel, the other is a fallen angel. Neither Watcher may directly assist any Horseman’s efforts to either start or stop Armageddon, but they can lend a hand behind the scenes. Doing so, however, may have them walking a fine line that, to cross, could prove worse than fatal.
Chapter One
You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everybody dances with the Grim Reaper.
-- Robert Alton Harris
“There’s very little that frightens me more than the Grim Reaper when he’s horny.”
From his desk chair, Azagoth snarled at the fallen angel standing in his office doorway. “I’m not horny.” He frowned. “Okay, maybe a little.” Or a lot. For six months he’d refused to bed the females Heaven had sent his way, but those halo-pushers didn’t give up, because apparently, there was another angel outside waiting to get some hot Grim Reaper action. “But I’m not backing down. I’m sick of being used to create Heaven’s little army of hybrid angels.”
That was true enough, but there was far more to it than being tired of being used like a prize stallion. Satan himself had threatened Azagoth with an ultimatum, and while Azagoth and his realm were untouchable, his children were not. And no one fucked with his children. Not even the Prince of Darkness.
“My lord,” Zhubaal said cautiously, “your deal with Heaven—”
“Deal?” Azagoth snorted as he reached across his desk for the expensive-ass bottle of Black Tot rum that Limos, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, had brought him earlier. “It wasn’t a deal. I volunteered to fall from grace to run this horror show of a demon graveyard. They changed the rules. After I gave up my life.”
Yep, just a few decades after he’d been expelled from Heaven in order to create Sheoul-gra, a unique realm designed specifically as a holding tank for demon souls, Heaven changed the game. The archangels suddenly decided they needed a special class of angel to watch over anyone living in the human realm who was important to the fate of the world, and they insisted that Azagoth should father those angels.
And he had. For thousands of years he’d taken the angels they sent into his bed and created lots and lots of earthbound, hybrid angel children known as Memitim. But now he was done. Aside from Satan’s threat hanging over his head, Azagoth was tired of screwing females who looked down their noses at him or who just laid there like sacrifices until he was done.
Oh, sure, there were the curious ones who at least made an attempt to participate, and there were the lusty few who figured they’d enjoy doing a bad boy. But for the most part, he might as well have been banging blow-up dolls.
Yeah, it was awesome.
Archangels were asshats.
“But sir, you need to do something. You’re...testy.”
Testy? Zhubaal hadn’t seen testy yet. Testy had gotten Azagoth’s last assistant disintegrated.
“Send the female back, and have her tell her superiors that...no, wait. Send her in.” Kicking his booted feet up on the desk, he broke the seal on the alcohol bottle with a vicious twist. “I’ll give her my message personally.”
“As you wish.”
Zhubaal gave a deep bow and left, returning within seconds with a tall, stately brunette in white and ruby robes, and Azagoth groaned. This wasn’t an angel who had come for a roll in the hay. Mariella was a Heavenly messenger who swept in the way she always did, as if she owned the place, her head held high, her long strides sure and brisk.
“Azagoth,” she said, all snooty and shit, “it’s time to stop whatever game you’re playing and get back to work.”
He raked his gaze over her in a blatant show of sizing her up for sex. She wouldn’t lower herself to screw him, but he got a measure of amusement out of screwing with her.
“So you’re volunteering to spread your legs for me?”
She cringed at his crudeness as he knew she would. Most angels were so uptight. “I’m a liaison, not a bedmate. I’m here to convince you to stop being a fool.”
“Ah.” Keeping his gaze on the angel, he put the bottle to his lips and took a deep, long pull, savoring the sweet burn of the liquid pouring down his throat. He drank until Mariella’s pinched, judgmental expression threatened to make her skin crack, and with exaggerated relish, he smacked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well, here’s the deal. I’m not doing your bidding anymore.”
“Yes, you are.”
Carefully placing the bottle on a pad of paper, he pushed to his feet and moved around to the front of the desk, noting how she managed to keep that pinchy expression even as her copper eyes assessed him from head to toe. She liked his black slacks and turtleneck...and the way she went taut said she despised the fact that she liked anything about him. Man, he loved messing with angels’ heads.
“Or?”
“Or,” she said, her tone pitching low with gloom and doom, “we replace you.”
He barked out a laugh. “Good. Replace me. I’ve been stuck in this realm for thousands of years, dealing with nothing but demons, evil humans, and the angels Heaven sends for me to service. Someone else can have this shitty job.”
“I don’t think you understand,” she said silkily. “Replace is a nice word for destroy.”
Azagoth’s pulse kicked up a notch. It was fun when someone threatened him. Game on. “And I don’t think you understand. You can’t destroy me. I’ve put safeguards in place.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “What kinds of safeguards?”
He gave a dramatic pause, partly to irritate the angel, and partly because he totally got off on dragging out the win. Finally, he steepled his fingers together like a cheesy cartoon villain and said, “The kind that will release all demon souls from Sheoul-gra upon my death.”
She gasped in outrage. Because sure, it was okay for her to threaten him, but turnabout was clearly not fair play. “And Hades allowed this?”
Hades, who ran Sheoul-gra’s Inner Sanctum where demon souls were kept, had little say in what Azagoth did, but they’d long ago hammered out a working relationship that gave the fallen angel independent authority over the Inner Sanctum. Azagoth could overrule him if needed, but in general, he left Hades alone.
“Actually,” Azagoth said as he casually propped his hip on the desk, “it was Hades who suggested it.”
“That blue-haired bastard.”
He’d give her that one. Hades was a world-class dick. Azagoth liked that in a fallen angel. “Now,” he said, “you get to listen to my demands.”
“Which are?” she said through gritted teeth.
“I want a female.”
She shot him an exasperated look. “What do you think we’ve been sending you? You keep turning them down.”
“I don’t want a female to fuck,” he said, still being as raunchy as possible. It drove angels nuts, and sure enough, her lips puckered as if she’d sucked a lemon. “I want one to keep.”
Outrage mottled her perfect, ivory skin. “You want an angel to keep? As what? A pet?”
“As a mate.”
“Oh, that’s precious.” She laughed, and the blood that usually ran cold in his veins started to steam. “You want a mate? You? Why?”
Because I’m lonely. That was only part of it, but it was a big part. H
e could have simply told Heaven to stop sending him females because Satan had threatened to start killing Memitim if even one more was born, but he didn’t want to spend the rest of eternity alone. He’d seen one of his daughters, Idess, willingly sacrifice so much for the male she loved, and she’d risked her life on more than one occasion to make sure other couples were happy. The depths to which people felt love had stunned him, and deep inside, it had sparked a desire to have that for himself.
That was assuming he could love. He hadn’t felt anything but anger and amusement in thousands of years, and even those emotions rarely reached a level beyond what he’d consider mild.
“My reasons are my own,” he said. “Send me a female to keep.”
“I’m sure this female you want will be so happy to be constantly pregnant,” she drawled.
“Oh, did I give you the impression that I’d keep making Memitim angels for you?” He pushed off the desk and moved toward her, enjoying the way her eyes sparked with anger and superiority even as she inched backward. “Well, newsflash, you Heavenly puke; no children that come of the union with my mate will ever be handed over to you.”
She flared her cinnamon wings in annoyance, but he kept his own wings tucked away. When he took his out, it usually meant he was on the verge of killing.
He wasn’t there yet, but he had no doubt this angel could push him to it.
Not that it took much.
“I’ll inform my bosses, but don’t expect an answer you’ll like.”
Even now, after he’d made clear that he held all the cards—or the souls, as it were—she continued to think she had the better hand. Amusing. Mildly amusing, of course.