Chapter 30
ABADDON
Semyaza and I escape to my private study together, easing our nerves with glasses of the alcoholic beverage called an Old Fashioned. Alcohol, no matter how it is served, seems to be an enduring feature of human culture over the centuries.
We’ve just barely sat down in the club chairs when he unsheathes a knife, makes a small cut on his arm, and paints a rune on the table between us with his blood.
I scowl, eying the unfamiliar design.
“That was wholly unnecessary.” Since it’s a secret language of the Watchers, I can only guess its purpose. “I could have just as easily made a sound vacuum around us.”
Healing the cut on his arm, he leans back into his chair. “We need to talk about the girl—openly—and I’m not taking any chances with the Council. The runes were invented for this very reason.”
“How is it you still know them?”
“Believe it or not, Amezarak was once a follower of mine,” he answers with sarcastic distaste. “He invented the basic ones long before Azael’s faction split off.”
“Does it not make you uncomfortable to still use their sorcery?”
“No. The Council doesn’t like them because they’ve never cracked the code for their own use, not because they’re inherently evil. Can you stop avoiding the subject now?”
I take a long sip of my bittersweet drink. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything you’ve conveniently failed to mention over the past month.”
“You’ll have to be more specific than that.” Swallowing the rest of my drink, I let my wings droop to the ground off the back of my chair. It’s a relief to rest them sometimes.
“Fine,” he grunts. “For starters, what is going on between the Messenger and her? I knew you two didn’t get along, but it wasn’t clear why until tonight.”
“She calls him Dusk.” Breathing life into the ridiculous name puts a scowl on my face.
“Dusk?”
“Yes, that is what I said.”
“Isn’t he an angel of light? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“That was my initial reaction as well.” Technically, the Messenger is his own specialty.
Zihrun is the Archangel of Light, while Malak’s affinity is more to lightning and electricity.
“‘It’s irony,’ she said. He calls her Dawn, too.
It’s a name of endearment for them, as if they’re some kind of paired set. ”
Semyaza snorts. “I’m sure you’re a huge fan of that.”
With the wave of my hand, a bottle of whiskey flies from the bar to the small table between us. I’ve lost the patience to make another Old Fashioned; I’ll just drink it neat. “Is it that obvious?”
“We’ve been apart for a long time, but I can still read you like a book.” I choose not to respond, but it doesn’t stop him from prying. “Look, you don’t have to tell me. I felt the same way about my Layla. I would have done anything for her—”
“It’s forbidden,” I interrupt, however futile it may be.
“No, we’ve been through this, brother,” Semyaza sighs, stealing the bottle to pour himself another drink.
“Council Law is not the word of the Almighty. I know the other Watchers and I suffered for the rape and violence that the Nephilim brought to Earth—not for our love and marriage to the humans. The Council’s interpretation of our punishment was solely to benefit Elohim. ”
“Even if that is true, their control over the other realms makes them difficult to contest.”
I can feel Semyaza’s anger bristling, though not necessarily at me.
“Only because everyone who would fight against them is either dead, imprisoned, or defeated. If anyone could find Kesbeel again to make another intention-protected realm, or even alter the terms of Adonai, then their control wouldn’t be so absolute…
And believe me, I’ve tried. It’s a lost cause. ”
He pauses to take a deep breath, which I know is his preferred method to calm himself. Kae does it, too.
“But you have the Abyss. Even if it’s more of a subrealm than a full-fledged divergence, it’s still an alternative option.” His voice drops an octave. “You could just let all of the defectors in. With the help of the locusts, you’d have an army strong enough to oppose the Council’s iron grip.”
“Semyaza.” Flattening my voice, I give him a look of true concern. “They’re already paranoid about another uprising. You need to forget such lofty ideas immediately. Elohim and the Abyss are reluctant allies. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He glowers into his empty glass for a moment before refilling it.
“I didn’t let anything get between Layla and me.
Not even time. I kept her alive and youthful far beyond the human lifespan, raising so many wonderful children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren.
.. Everything was great until Azael brought God’s Wrath upon us all—the one thing I couldn’t protect my wife from. ”
I watch Semyaza take one long drink of his whiskey until there’s nothing left, then follow his lead in finishing my glass. It’s barely hit the table before he’s pouring us another.
He becomes volatile when his human lover gets stuck on his mind. In the relatively short time he’s been in the Abyss, I’ve seen that look on his face far too many times.
Any topic, I’ve learned, is better for him than a reminder of his grief. “What of the archangels who didn’t follow you here? Have you heard anything new?”
“No, but I suspect those who remain unaccounted for have already joined the Adversary. It would explain how they’ve managed to evade detection so well.”
“That’s a significant majority.” It doesn’t bode well for weak positioning. “Semyaza, if you were me, what would you do?”
The subtle opening to meddle in my personal life instantly lightens Semyaza’s mood.
“I’d start by making sure my woman is safe and secure on the winning side.” He eyes me, as if he senses my doubts. “Then I’d be honest with her. Tell her how you feel. That you want to be by her side, forever, and the Messenger can just fuck right off.”
It continues to perplex me how quickly he’s adapted to modern language, with its curses and swears. I would greatly prefer to speak in an older, cleaner language—one that hasn’t been so convoluted and butchered.
“I’ve thought about killing him.” Quite frequently, in many different ways. “Yes, he would come back, but at least I’d have him out of the way for a time.”
“Murder of a fellow archangel aside, why haven’t you?”
“He seems to make her happy, and I don’t want to take that away from her.” He also hasn’t touched her again. And his opportunity to do so is significantly limited, now that he’s on such a tight leash with the Council.
“You can make her happy, too.”
“I’m well aware.” If I didn’t know any better, I might think Semyaza would be fine with me killing an archangel for simply being a major inconvenience. I’m about to pour another drink, but a ghost slides my glass away, bringing an annoyed sigh out of me. “Let me have my drink, you decrepit fiend.”
Semyaza clicks his tongue, but the next time I attempt to grab my glass from the table’s edge, it doesn’t slide out of my grasp again.
“You’ve become so brooding and spiteful, Abaddon. You weren’t always this way.”
And he’s become so very volatile, but I won’t be the one to tell him. Not now, at least.
“Yes, that is what happens when you raze cities to the ground and proceed to spend a couple thousand years underground while your brother is being tortured,” I say flatly, filling my glass to the brim again.
I’ve lost count of how many this makes, but I wouldn’t want to stop when the alcohol is finally working.
“I don’t see how you can be the slightest bit optimistic after everything. ”
“Honestly?” Semyaza leans back in his chair, looking thoughtful.
“The memory of Layla keeps me alive. I think of how peaceful her soul must be in Heaven. I imagine she’s waiting there for me, hoping I can one day earn God’s forgiveness back and join her in eternal peace…
And I want you to experience that kind of eternal love, too.
Whether or not you believe me, you deserve companionship, kindness, and every other good thing your body grounds you here with. ”
“You want my thoughts? Fine. I’ll give them to you.
” Admittedly, my slight inebriation spurs me on.
“Malak is undeserving of Kae. He had no problem defiling her, yet he won’t even sacrifice his superficial Elohim position for her.
All it took was a meager promotion to prove just how much he doesn’t care to be in her life.
It’s so… disappointing to watch. She is too much of a pure, beautiful creature to be treated like somebody’s plaything. ”
“And you want her for yourself.”
“Yes,” I mutter, surprising myself with my forthcoming honesty. “If I had her affections like he does, I’d put her on top of the world.”
“But you do have her affections.”
“I do not. Not yet.”
“I saw the way she looked at you—”
“Then you also saw the way she looks at Malak,” I snap, prompting Semyaza to pointedly slide the liquor bottle away from me.
With a sigh, I take a brief moment to recollect myself.
“I only mean that she is not committed to it yet. It is marriage or nothing; I will not taste her just to be deprived of her. And I keep… ‘fucking it up,’ as you might say.”
“I’m proud of your swearing. It’s greatly improved.” Semyaza laughs under the glare I give him. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself. How badly did you fuck up?”
Briefly, I consider the consequences of how much Semyaza could destroy me with information like this.
However, I thoroughly believe he’d be the last person to do such, and the cost of keeping it to myself has been eating away at me.
“I kissed her, Semyaza. I kissed her, and I cannot bring myself to regret it.”
My brother sucks in some air, unable to hide his surprise. “You should have led with that. It would have saved me some breath.”
“I know. I know!” I jump out of my seat, knocking over my glass with a wing in the process.
“I think about it every day. Multiple times a day. She consumes my every thought. It is becoming so unbearable that I can hardly wait for her to commit to me. Even worse, I know that is what she wants, with her painfully obvious human emotions. But she does not understand the depths at which I need her for the rest of eternity.”
“Abaddon,” he says my name with every bit of judgment that I deserve. “When did this kiss happen? I’ve been here for a month. Don’t tell me it was before I arrived, and you’re just now choosing to tell me?”
My silence is my answer.
“I see.” Semyaza’s lips form a tight line. “So you kissed her, then somehow acted poorly enough to royally upset her to the point she nearly got herself killed. And now you’re, what, pretending it never happened?”
I don’t know how he managed to fill in the gaps so thoroughly, but I refuse to validate his claim. “It has not changed anything. I’m still entirely at her mercy.”
“Then don’t be—”
“Ah, grand idea, Semyaza! Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll just kill the Messenger, kill him again every time he resurrects, and maybe I’ll take out the whole Council, too, if they try to do something about the recurring murders. Then, I can hold Kae hostage forever, unbothered.”
Maybe that’s closer to my previous plans than I let on, but it sounds even more idiotic to say out loud.
Yes, I despise the Messenger, but I can’t just kill him.
Primarily because Kae would never forgive me, but also, he’d always keep coming back to haunt me every time I turn him to ash, and that would get quite annoying.
Imprisoning him would be the next best option, but it would likely have the same effect on Kae.
Semyaza snickers. “No, you sarcastic fool. I mean that you need to make her see you for who you are. That’s all I’ve been trying to say. Be honest with her. Cut the ‘tough shit’ act.”
“It’s not an act.”
“That’s not the point.”
Narrowly keeping my wings out of the sticky mess my spilled drink made, I plop back down into my chair with little grace. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re a coward,” he bites back.
“If I weren’t so limited by my intoxication right now, I’d suffocate you just to have some momentary peace.” My threat comes out with very little enthusiasm, and somehow, he becomes even more haughty and disagreeable.
“Sure. Or, you could have just left the room. But you didn’t, because you know I’m right. How will she ever choose you over her golden cheerleader if you’re constantly sulking around, acting like you hate her?”
“I could never hate Kae.” My thoughts are starting to make less sense to me, so I stand up, swaying slightly. “I am leaving the room now. To slumber.”
“Well, His Kingliness, Drunken Angel of Doom… Let me help you to your bed.”
“It’s just over there.” On the other side of the wall. Not hard to find.
“What else are brothers good for, if not to take care of each other in times like this? I have centuries to make up for.”
I mumble some complaints, but ultimately, he helps me anyway.