Chapter Seven Azrael
Chapter Seven
Azrael
I watch Charlotte’s slowed breath drift up into the cool morning air beside me as she sleeps—and meanwhile across the ocean, I kneel in a darkened street, rain soaking through my leather coat as I cradle a boy whose chest slows after a car just hit him.
His blood is warm on my hands.
Here, she sighs. There, he cries softly, cowering at the sight of me.
I’m here. I am not.
I am both. Always.
A being whose loyalty is divided.
I guide the child into the dark, into the Nothing, the space that’s both separate from and a part of me as another version of me whispers to a man under a collapsed bit of rubble.
I can feel him—and the others—off in the distance, tugging at another thread. But we don’t compete.
And I won’t be sparing them like I did her.
I take Charlotte’s hand as I whisper in their ears.
I am everywhere.
Until a sudden blip in my attention grabs me.
I narrow my focus, scanning the dimension before me. I’ve been searching for Charlotte’s friend for weeks. Trying to undo all the damage I caused the moment I chose to heed God’s word and put the blade into play and violently reinsert myself into her and my ex’s life again.
It may not be my fault that Lucifer’s Mother chose to abduct her.
Or that she chose to target Charlotte’s Seer friend.
But it is my fault that Lilith and Michael were able to make their trade so easily.
The one that ended with Michael in possession of the spear, the Holy Lance, the one that can end any battle. Or the life of the new celestial beside me.
And the thought that Michael may intend to use the blade to hurt Charlotte . . .
Well, that’s far from the worst of my sins.
My attention falls to the sudden ripple I feel in the Nothing, the dreamlike realm that exists on another dimension, another plane, one beyond what humanity’s capable of comprehending.
Through the haze, I can see her there. Charlotte’s friend. God’s prophet.
But the haze of Lilith’s power obscures her from me.
I fucking hate goddesses.
And Lilith has never exactly been a fan of me.
She’s hated me since long before Lucifer and I ever became anything.
Despite any deals she and I might have made before . . .
I draw closer, in whatever way that means when I’m not corporeal.
It’s somewhere dark, but wherever she’s located, the light that surrounds her does little to illuminate her to me.
Human geography has never been of much importance, if you ask me.
It’s shifting. Ever changing. A lot like the dream Charlotte’s friend appears to be caught in.
A nightmare of Lilith’s making.
As for me, I’ve always preferred the dark.
The mortal ends are less tricky then.
“I know you’re there, Azrael.” Lilith’s chaotic gaze shifts about the space, her voice far too pleased, but she hasn’t been able to pin me down just yet.
Meanwhile, I search for some sign, some indication, of where this place may be, earthly or otherwise.
Charlotte’s friend stirs, and the chains around her ankles rattle.
From the looks of it, Lilith hasn’t been doing a very good job of remembering to feed her.
Humanity’s need to eat, drink, and piss with any regularity is a foreign concept to most celestials. They don’t spend as much time among humans as I do.
“Why not show yourself?” Lilith’s head whips in my direction as she grins wickedly.
She may be the embodiment of all chaos, the divine spark that created everything, but there’s little about Lilith that’s truly motherly. Not in the way God’s children ever deserved.
The prophet stirs again, her eyelids flickering, and she lets out a weak groan as she starts to wake, but it’s enough to momentarily distract Lilith.
That’s all the hesitation I need.
I start to pull back, enough to get a glimpse of the building’s basic structure, but then—
“Please. Please take me,” her friend begs. Like she, too, can sense me.
Like they can only do when the end is near.
Lilith touches the Seer’s forehead again, and the prophet cries out in pain, Lilith’s touch launching her into yet another endless nightmare.
An infinite, dreamless sleep that will never end.
Not unless we—
“Azrael.”
Charlotte’s soft voice sounds from beside me, pulling me out of my trance.
It . . . calls to me.
Like humanity’s myths of old, it makes me remember myself.
Just as Lilith’s attention shifts back to me and she begins to summon some of her divine power into her palms.
Shit.
Not even I can war with a goddess.
“Shhh, I’ve got you, little siren,” I whisper, sitting down on the bed beside her as my focus comes back onto her completely, and she settles down into sleep. “I’ve got you.”
For as long as she’ll have me.
Until she learns what it means to love the end of all things.