“Today is not the day to piss me off.” He spun around and jabbed one long finger at Ulnara. “You can thank our son for saving you from all the screaming you were about to do.” He flapped his wings and launched into the air, where he hovered about thirty feet up. “Ulnara, you have one week.”
She scrambled onto the portal pad, her hand poised over the hilt of the sword at her hip. An instinct and nothing more, because she had to realize that no blade could so much as scratch Azagoth. Not in his own realm, and certainly not while he was wearing his demon suit.
“Not this time, Azagoth,” she said, her voice powerful and confident, but she never took her nervous gaze off the demon in the air. “We’re done appeasing you.”
“Don’t test my will, angel,” he warned, his voice dredging the very pits of hell. “On this matter I will go to war.”
War? What the hell was going on?
Azagoth flicked his wrist, done with her. Literally. She disappeared without ever activating the portal, returned either to Heaven, or dumped somewhere that amused Azagoth. Like inside a sewer treatment holding tank. Or a hot dog factory.
Without bothering to even glance at Hawkyn, Azagoth flapped his great wings and shot skyward, vanishing into roiling clouds that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“Well,” Cipher drawled as he offered Hawkyn a hand, “at least you’re consistent, always rescuing females from crazy males.”
“No matter how stupid it is,” Maddox said.
Journey shook his head. “I can’t believe you fucking did that.”
Hawk couldn’t either. “The angel was my mother.”
Cipher cocked a blond eyebrow, and both Journey and Maddox gasped out loud.
“Damn,” Journey said. “I’ve never met any Memitim dam, let alone mine.”
“No one has,” Maddox said.
“Would you want to?” Cipher asked, and both Journey and Maddox shook their heads.
After all, what did one say to the female who gave you up, not for your own good, but because you were a means to an end, a pawn in a game you were bred to play whether you wanted to or not?
“Hawkyn!” Lilliana jogged over, fingers playing with the ends of the long blond braid draped over her shoulder. “I saw what happened. Are you okay?” At his nod, she smiled and dropped her hands to her sides. “Good. Next question. Are you completely stupid?”
He glanced at his friends, who were nodding vehemently. “The consensus seems to be yes.” He glared at all the onlookers, shaming them into heading back to whatever they’d been doing before he tackled his father. “What did Azagoth mean by going to war?” he asked Lilliana. “Over what? The children he was talking about?” And what children?
“I don’t know.” She crossed her arms over her chest, ruffling her silky blue blouse. “I have no idea what’s going on with Azagoth, but you all need to tread softly around him for a while. I haven’t seen him this volatile since I first arrived in Sheoul-gra. He loves you—all of you—but I think he might have loved some of the people he turned into living statues, too.”
“Does he?” Journey asked quietly. “Does he really?”
Lilliana frowned. “Does he what? Love some of the statues?”
“No. Love us.”
“Of course he does,” she said, but Hawkyn swore he heard a note of doubt in her voice.
Maddox snorted. “He’s an angel wrapped in a demon wrapped in an asshole. He doesn’t give a shit about anything but himself.”
In an instant Lilliana was in Maddox’s face, her eyes glowing with anger, her wings, which Hawkyn had never seen, held high, engulfing his brother in shadow. She was shorter than Maddox by at least six inches, but somehow she seemed to tower over him.
“How dare you, you ungrateful wretch,” she snapped, compelling Mad backward with the force of her anger. Anger Hawk hadn’t known she was capable of. Lilliana had always been so calm and sweet. “Do you not see what he’s done for you? For all of you? Are you completely blind to what he’s built here for you? He didn’t do it for show or personal or political gain, no matter what Ulnara said. I saw his misery and felt his pain when your brother Methicore managed to shut down Sheoul-gra to Memitim access a while back. But your father called in about a million favors to have the decision reversed—favors that cost him dearly.” She jammed her finger into Maddox’s chest. “So if you can’t show him a little respect, I will personally show you the door.”
Maddox held up his hands in surrender, but he was careful not to spill the wine in one hand.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said meekly. “I apologize.”
For a long moment, Hawkyn wasn’t sure she was going to accept his apology, but just as he was weighing ways to de-escalate the situation, she stepped back with an irritated flap of wings.
“Good,” she said crisply. “Now, I’m going to go check on him. You boys enjoy the party.”
Hawkyn assured her he would, but he didn’t plan to stay. He needed to go over the notes he had about Drayger’s past, and then he had to figure out what to do with Aurora.
He was about to wave off his buddies when his arm seized up and pain shot from his wrist to his shoulder. Hissing, he looked down at the row of seven heraldis that extended from the heel of his hand to the crook of his elbow. The one in the middle was pulsing, red, angry.
One of his Primoris was in trouble.
“I got your back,” Journey said. “Let’s go.”
“I’m in,” Cipher said. “Let’s kick ass.”
Maddox downed his wine and threw the cup down on the ground like a victory spike. “Kick ass!”
Hawkyn would sideline Maddox’s drunk butt if he needed to, but for now he was just happy to have friends and family at his back.
On this matter, I will go to war.
Especially now.
Chapter Eight
Reaching for the door handle to Azagoth’s office, Lilliana took a deep, bracing breath. But as her hand closed on the cold metal, she hesitated. She’d seen her mate in rages before, and she knew to give him space. Lots of space. Especially after he lost control of his inner demon and let it loose to play.
She glanced at her watch. It had been an hour since he’d flown away in a huff. She’d never even seen him fly before. What did it mean? What was going on with him?
Her gut churned as she steadied herself with one final mental pep talk and opened the door.
He’d returned to his usual handsome form, standing so close to the fireplace that flames licked at the hem of the black robe he must have thrown on after shifting out of his beast form, which generally destroyed his clothing.
“Hey,” she said softly.
His big body shuddered, but he didn’t turn around. “My love.”
Every time he called her that, she melted a little inside. She’d originally come to Sheoul-gra to steal something from him, and he liked to claim that what she stole was his heart. He’d stolen hers, too, and even when things were rough, she still felt like the luckiest angel ever.
The door closed behind her with a muffled thud. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
Ignoring what was obviously a lie, she moved closer. “I’m worried about you. You’ve been so cranky and distant.”
“It’s nothing.” He turned to her, affecting a smile that was clearly meant to placate her. “Just work stuff.”
“I think it’s more than that.” She rested her hand on his arm. “Please, darling. Let me in.”
He let out a low, seductive growl and tugged her to him. “How about you let me in...”
Always before when he touched her like this she’d given in. But not this time.
“No.” Gently, she shoved him away. “You aren’t going to distract me again. I want to know what set you off today. I also want to know more about the angel you were fighting with.”
Lilliana had never been jealous of his past lovers, mainly because she knew that most of them had viewed him only as a means to reproduce, a duty and a sacrifi
ce. But she’d also never expected any of them to come to Sheoul-gra now that he was mated. Clearly Ulnara hated him, and he didn’t appear to be overly fond of her, either, but hearing him say that she could thank their son for saving her had been like a punch to the stomach.
“What set me off,” he growled, “is that the Memitim Council is refusing to reveal the locations of any of my young children who are still living among the humans.”
She blinked in confusion. “Why do you want to know where they are? You’ve never known, have you?”
“No, I haven’t. But I want to know now.” His smoky emerald gaze locked with hers. “And I want them brought here.”
Whoa. She sucked in a startled breath. This was...unexpected. Long overdue, perhaps, but unexpected nevertheless. Especially given the fact that he’d said he wasn’t ready for he and Lilliana to have children. Yet now he wanted scores of them, the ones he’d made with other females, to fill his realm?
“How long have you been wanting this to happen? And why didn’t you tell me?” She tried not to be upset by the fact that he hadn’t discussed this with her, but it was impossible to keep the thread of hurt out of her voice.
“A while,” he said, and if he was aware on any level that she felt bruised by his lack of disclosure, it didn’t show. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it was even a possibility. Which it doesn’t appear to be.”
“Why would they refuse you? Especially since our mating changed how Memitim are created, right?”
“Precisely,” he growled. “It’s bullshit. New Memitim class angels can now be born to any Heavenly angel. And unlike my offspring, they won’t be abandoned for humans to raise. They’ll be raised and trained in Heaven like normal angels of all classes and Orders.”
“So why was Ulnara here?”
“Because she’s on the Council now.”
She frowned. “Shouldn’t members of the Memitim Council be Memitim?”
“You’d think. But that rule has been changed, because apparently now that Memitim can be born to Heavenly angels, Heavenly angels get to rule.”
Lilliana didn’t like that one bit. “So that means you’ll be seeing more of your ex-lovers?”
“I hope not.”
Right there with ya.
Frustrated but not wanting to dwell on Azagoth’s ex-lovers, she changed the subject. “Look, why don’t we forget about all of this for a while? We haven’t used the chronoglass to go anywhere in weeks. Let’s visit a tropical beach or a mountain meadow. We can have a picnic, some wine...and we can talk.”
Her ability to time travel and take him anywhere in the world for one hour every twenty-four was a gift they’d used almost daily for their entire relationship...until a few weeks ago when he’d suddenly become “too busy.”
He waggled his brows playfully. “You know if we go someplace romantic like that, we won’t be talking.”
“Yes, we will,” she said firmly. “I’m not falling for your erotic tricks, Azagoth. Not until you tell me what’s up with you.” She held up a finger to cut him off before he said what she knew he was going to say. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. I know that’s not the truth.”
The temperature in the room plummeted so low she could see her breath. But not her husband’s. No, he’d gone so cold his breath wouldn’t be visible even in Antarctica.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
Annoyed by his sudden mood swing and tired of trying to get him to talk, she let out a bitter laugh.
“Seriously? You cause pain and suffering every day. You scheme with evil demons and plot with angels. And you’re going to feign outrage at being called a liar? Especially when it’s the truth? You’re angry that I’m not dumb enough to believe your denials, is that it? Or are you mad at yourself for not being a better liar? Either way, knock it off. You’re a bazillion years old. Act like it. Man up.”
She knew the moment she stopped talking that she’d gone too far. Azagoth’s eyes went glacial for a split-second before they flared hot, orange flames lapping at his irises.
“I love you,” he said in a deep, tortured voice. “So you should go.”
As angry as she was, as sure as she was that she was the one who was in the right, she also knew that if she wanted to win the war, she had to strategically retreat from certain battles. Azagoth wouldn’t hurt her physically, she knew that without a doubt, but he was more demon than angel, and when the angel inside him fled, the demon that remained could flay her alive with his words. Staying here would only lead to pain for them both and no one would win.
She glanced at her watch. “I have things to do. But Azagoth, we aren’t done with this conversation.”
She slammed out of his office, and as she walked down the endless hallway, his roar of anger echoed off the walls, jiggling the chandeliers and rattling the artwork.
But nothing was more rattled than her nerves.
Chapter Nine
It took longer than Hawk wanted to put down the threat to his endangered Primori, a member of the Demonic Activity Response Team, whom he’d been guarding since he was born. Jake Biemer had originally joined The Aegis, a demon-slaying organization, following a stint in the navy. But a few years ago, when The Aegis took a new, radical stance he didn’t like, he’d joined the other Aegis defectors to start DART. Now the guy spent his time investigating demonic activity that put him in danger all the time. Fortunately, Hawk only had to respond to dangers that were somehow not fated to happen.
Seemed like ever since the near-apocalypse several years ago, non-fated danger happened far more than it ever had.
And Hawk wasn’t the only one who noticed. Most of his Memitim brethren had complained of the same thing. It was as if the glue that held all the laws of nature together had started to dissolve, leaving weak spots everywhere. Even Sheoul-gra’s Inner Sanctum where the souls were kept wasn’t immune. Azagoth and Hades had been dealing with cracks in the containment walls that hadn’t been there before.
And naturally, no one in Heaven would offer any explanations.
It was one of the reasons Hawk couldn’t wait to Ascend. He wanted to get answers and then he wanted to share those answers with his brothers and sisters. He wanted to make life better for Memitim, and better for the decent people they protected. To be included on the Memitim Council was his goal, and dammit, he would reach it.
But that wasn’t going to happen if he failed to keep a Primori safe. Even the pieces of shit like Drayger.
Crisis averted, Hawk said goodbye to Cipher and his brothers and headed back to Underworld General. He didn’t have a plan for Aurora yet—he only knew he had to convince her not to go to the police.
“Hey, I know the guy tortured you and was planning to kill you slowly, but really, is forgiving and forgetting too much to ask?”
Yeah, that was going to go over real well.
In what was becoming a routine, he flashed himself to the hospital, entered through the ER doors from the parking lot, and approached the reception desk.
“Can I help you?” The chick at the reception desk looked at him with beady, unblinking eyes.
“I’m here to see Aurora Mercer. She was admitted yesterday.”
The demon tapped a few keys on her computer keyboard. “I’m sorry, but she’s been released.”
“What? When?”
“Three hours ago.”
“Three hours?” Drayger could have her again by now. “What the hell? Why didn’t anyone notify me?”
She scowled at the screen. “Did you leave contact information?”
“Yes.”
“Did you leave instructions to be notified of any change in her status?”
Shit. He’d taken off too quickly to even think about that. “Ah, no.”
She smiled sweetly. “Then apologize for yelling at me or kindly fuck off.”
“You know, your staff’s reputation for rudeness is legendary, but that was almost pleasant.”
?
??Doctor Eidolon asked us to be nicer.”
Hawkyn doubted that “be nicer” meant that the staff was supposed to smile while telling people to fuck off, but whatever.
“Oh, well, then I apologize, and I’ll be sure to tell Eidolon that you’re making a great effort.”
Ignoring her legitimately dubious snort, he went out to the parking lot and flashed himself to Aurora’s house, thankful he’d scoped it out earlier, or he’d have had to waste valuable time finding it.
He materialized in front of the house, his shadow wings deployed and keeping him invisible to all but other Memitim.
It was late afternoon in Portland, the sun hidden behind a thick layer of low clouds. The damp ground smelled like dirt and moss, but he also caught a whiff of something sweet from the bakery down the block. Aurora lived in a nice neighborhood, one that was probably considered safe.
He moved down her narrow walkway toward the front steps and her tiny brick-colored porch, which was barely large enough for the two small chairs and folding table she’d put there. He could have materialized inside her house, but that would be rude. And stalker-y. Plus, given the trauma she’d already endured, it would be a serious asshole move that would probably terrify her.
He’d just ring the doorbell.
How quaint.
* * * *
Aurora knew she shouldn’t be at her house, given that a serial killer had her address and would almost certainly try to silence her. But she didn’t have anyplace else to go where she wouldn’t put friends and family in danger. What she did have was an arsenal of mystical weapons and deterrents, and she’d gathered just enough energy from the hospital staff to deploy them.
The nice werewolf lady named Runa who had escorted her home had unintentionally provided a strong surge of power when she’d given her a hug, allowing Aurora’s palm to linger on her back. Runa wouldn’t miss the stolen energy, but it had gone a long way toward filling Aurora’s empty well.