Chapter 43
Ihave to fight for a moment to control the fear that grips me.
I’m certainly not the Morning Star, but why the hell would the Power of Bitterness choose me? I’ve never been particularly bitter about anything before… well, before the damn thing came into my life with all the apocalyptic nightmares.
Except, maybe, when my mom died.
I mean, yes, okay. There was certainly a lot of bitterness there. The whole thing with the insurance and the malpractice was basically why I decided to go into medicine in the first place, but… I got over that. I healed, moved on, and was determined to help people.
Plus, I’m just not an angry person in general! Jackie is, but not me. Maybe it was aiming for her and missed by a hair? Is that possible?
“It doesn’t make any sense,” I mumble to myself.
“Oh, it does. It makes perfect sense, whether or not you allow yourself to see it.” A quiet huff of a laugh comes from Azael as he shakes his head, peering into his wine glass. “Abaddon has made a grave error in making an enemy of you—”
“Abaddon isn’t my enemy.” I stand up rapidly, knocking my chair to the ground in the process with a force I hadn’t intended. The Aether presses down on me so much, begging for an outlet, it’s almost painful. “Put me back where you found me.”
He doesn’t flinch at the sound of my falling chair, nor does he look too concerned. In fact, he looks amused by the idea. Propping one elbow on the arm of his chair, he leans his face into his hands, looking at me at a lazy angle. “And if I did? Where would you go from there?”
Home.
“That’s none of your goddamn business.” I press my hands down onto the table, leaning in to glare at him with every bit of a threat I can muster. I don’t know how to make my eyes glow all menacingly like the archangels do, but if I did, I’d be doing it right now.
“It certainly is, considering you’re in my city.” A smile slithers over Azael’s face, and he breathes out a half-stop of a laugh. “You know, I’m not quite sure how to deal with you. Do you switch between alternate personalities? Is this Kae I’m speaking to, or Wormwood?”
“Kae. Always Kae. If anything, my shadow speaks to me. Not through me.”
“Interesting. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to have a Kesbeel in the back of my mind, and you wouldn’t think something like an Oath would manifest as a volatile being. But something angry, like Bitterness, inside a newborn immortal… It could prove to be catastrophic.”
“I guarantee you it will be catastrophic if you do not let me leave this realm and rescue Jackie.” Venom seethes through my voice, echoed by sizzling wood beneath my palms. I flick my eyes down to it for the briefest of seconds before returning to my glare.
“Ah, so that’s the plan.” He angles his head back, the shadows catching on the slight curve of his jaw. “I can help, you know. If only you would be so kind as to stop burning a handprint into our nice dining table.”
I grind my teeth together. As much as I want to blast his smug face off, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing with this magic. I’d really only like to use it as a last resort. “I will burn much more than your table if you try to hold me hostage for another minute.”
“But, given the opportunity, would you still open the Abyss?”
“No—” I freeze, biting my lip, but the damage is already done.
I’ve admitted the truth to someone.
“No, you won’t.” He stands up, towering over me by several inches, casting me in his shadow.
It’s a power play. A challenge. One that I won’t be backing down from.
“But you can figure it out the hard way. Go back, be woefully unprepared, and waste your one opportunity… Or, if you’d quit being so stubborn, we could work together. ”
A hysterical breath of a laugh escapes my lips before I can control it. “You’re delusional if you think I’ll ever serve you.”
“How much do you want to go back to Abaddon? Get married, consummate it. Maybe even have his children. Your friends and family might survive it, but will you?” He pauses, his eye flicking over me in one fell swoop. “No, that’s what I thought. Whatever he’s done, it’s traumatized you.”
“Goddammit, Azael, would you stop intruding on my emotions already?”
“I’m not.” A smug look takes to his face, and he crosses his arms, getting comfortable in my personal space. God, I wish he would back the fuck up already. “I don’t need to. It’s obvious in so many other ways. Would you like me to list?”
I scoff. “Since when do you fucking care about what I’d like?”
“You’re right. I’ll just tell you anyway. Besides my intuition—”
“Oh, great. Joy.”
“—and besides every bit of your physiology giving it away, I can’t help but feel the remnants of his tethers clinging to you like persistent, venomous snakes.
Even when you’ve been quarantined for days, even when he can’t possibly reach you here, you can’t seem to shake them off of you.
True pathokinetics are much better at covering their tracks, and I can still detect their signature stench of forced fate from a mile away.
It is an abomination to Chaos, so it is an affront to me. ”
I hardly know what he’s talking about. My understanding of souls and tethers is juvenile at best. But even though my ignorance has only made life harder for me, I’m still not sure if Azael, of all people, is who I should be getting my information from.
Weakly, I deflect with a mumbled, “Bold of you to compare someone else to snakes...”
Azael seems to be getting frustrated, running a hand through his dark hair, pushing the waves out of their neat position.
“Believe it or not, I don’t want to take your freedom from you.
I want you to choose to stay here. But the problem with that is I’m trying to counteract someone else’s programming, and the circumstances are not ideal.
I think, deep down, you already know I’m right, but you just can’t trust me yet. ”
I have no shortage of reasons to distrust him. “You did abduct me, use me as bait for murder, and hold me prisoner in solitary confinement for like ten days. Oh, and you’re also literally Satan.”
“And yet, I’m still the lesser of two evils, if you compare me to Abaddon and Michael—both of whom you need to be fully prepared to face again.
You’re only going to get one chance to get your friend out of Elohim, and you can’t afford a single weakness.
You need a plan, allies, information, and an abundance of highly specialized training that only I can give you. ”
I don’t buy it. He just wants me to believe I won’t find a better option elsewhere. Classic manipulation tactic, and I’m not falling for that shit anymore. I’d rather eat a box of nails than train with him.
“Really,” I remark, straight-faced. “Like what?”
He starts counting things off with his fingers. “How to flawlessly lie and deceive an angel. How to shield yourself without an angel feeling it. Projectile weapons that can channel the Aether. The full catalog of runes—none of which the Elohim can read or use… And more.”
I didn’t know half of those things even existed. In fact, I distinctly remember Malak telling me such weapons are impossible.
Still, I eye Azael, blatantly suspicious. This is privileged knowledge that he’s offering me. He’s either extremely desperate, or he’s certain that he can make me keep it from the Elohim. “What do you even hope to gain from this?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Besides you?”
I wait for him to finish his sentence, but he just stands there, expectantly. As if his response is the only answer that could ever make sense, and he’s really going to make me explain why it doesn’t.
God, the complete arrogance of this man!
“I’m not your prize to be won,” I snap.
He has the nerve to roll his eyes. “Such dramatics. You make it sound like you’d be selling your soul to me when it’s merely a mutually beneficial agreement.
You need allies, and so do I. If you haven’t noticed, I am doing everything I can to keep the world from being ruled by tyranny.
I would make the same offer to Kesbeel or any other Power who happened to humanize themselves. ”
I turn his offer over in my head, inspecting it for flaws. “What exactly would you want in return for your help in freeing Jackie?”
“Don’t open the Abyss, for one.”
“So you’ve mentioned.” And I’ve basically already slipped up and told him that I don’t intend to, so that can’t be his real leverage.
“I’d also prefer not to face you on the battlefield.”
A hint of a smile touches the corners of my lips. I can’t remember the last time that I smiled. It certainly hasn’t been since I was captured and dragged here. “Afraid I might be stronger than you?”
Azael’s eyes light up, his gaze briefly jumping to my lips before returning to my eyes. “At present? Not one bit. But, depending on how quickly you learn, you might eventually give me a challenge.”
“Tumultuari seems to feel differently.” I shrug, taking the win.
“Tumultuari is a traitorous blade who couldn’t wait long enough for my return.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that. Oh, and I want one more thing.”
“You’re already asking me to not only help you break into Elohim—which you have no idea how impossible that is to do—and extract someone from their heavily guarded prison. Is that not enough? What more could you possibly want?”
“Kesbeel. I want to meet Kesbeel.”
He actually groans. “Of course you do.”
“Well? Can you arrange it or not?”
“No. Kesbeel made me swear an oath that I’d never tell a soul how to summon a Power ever again.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t summon him, right?”
“…I…” Again, he runs a hand through his long hair, further messing up the waves. “I don’t know. I haven’t been stupid enough to try it again, considering how angry he still is at me for doing it the first time.”
He’s close to breaking. I know it. I can negotiate. “How about you just try your best, then. If it works, you can tell him that I twisted your arm, and I’ll take the blame for it. And you said he was curious about me, right? The feeling is mutual. Maybe I could learn something from him.”
“I highly doubt anything beneficial could come from this, but…” He sighs, defeated. “Fine. I will try to summon Kesbeel. But I will need to get my affairs in order first, just in case it doesn’t go well for me. In the meantime, you’ll begin training to be useful. Deal?”
A deal with the devil. I can’t help but feel like I’m shooting myself in the foot, even if I don’t know how. “Deal.”
“Good. Given the nature of the agreement, we’ll forgo swearing to Kesbeel this time. I doubt it means much to you, anyway.” He clicks his tongue, and seconds later, a small creature comes flying through the doorway.
My eyes widen as a raven lands on his shoulder. “Is that… Ramiel?”
“Yes.”
“But I thought—”
“Please. Ramiel has no loyalties. His iterations are constantly conflicting with each other too much for that.” Azael lifts his arm, letting the bird walk down to his wrist. “This one has been quite concerned about your well-being, so I agreed to let him keep an eye on you. If you’ll have him, that is. ”
“Worried about me?” I’ve hardly even met the little guy. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to spy on me? Or… Abaddon? He is Semyaza’s—”
The bird repeatedly caws at me, angry and incessant, as if he’s lecturing me.
“Alright, alright,” I mutter, obediently reaching out my arm. Instantly, Ramiel hops over to me, giving a small coo.
It’s strange, but he’s kind of cute, actually.
I’ve always liked birds. It is still weird to think that he’s as much of an archangel as the others, though.
I don’t know. Maybe splitting his soul into multiple different directions makes him quite different.
There has to be a reason he always wants to be a bird, right?
“Is that enough excitement for tonight?” Azael asks, drawing my eyes back to him. He almost looks… exasperated.
“Please tell me you’re not sending me back into a prison cell.”
“Of course not. I’m giving you living quarters. I had the foresight to steal your luggage when I brought you here, so you should even feel fairly at home.”
“You mean you’ve had my clothes this whole fucking time, and you’ve made me wear this?” I use my free hand to motion to the ill-fitting scrubs that I’m wearing under my cloak. “Not to mention I had to bathe myself in a sink with a singular bar of Irish Spring soap!”
“You’ll have to forgive my inhospitality,” he huffs. “You were desperate to kill me and required isolation. If you want to go back to acting like a savage animal, I can continue to treat you like one.”
“If you knock me unconscious or lock me up one more time, I will be the bane of your immortal existence for the rest of my own.”
“I don’t make idle threats.” His eyes darken, shadowed by his lowered brow, but I don’t back down.
“And you think I do? I’m very fucking serious, Azael.”
Poor Ramiel keeps looking at us, back and forth, like a kid caught between their parents’ argument.
Azael spares him a brief glance before pinning his glare back at me. “If you insist on not being forcibly transported, will you civilly follow me to your quarters? Or will I have to drag you down to the dungeons instead? Either way, you will not be leaving Adonai.”
I raise an eyebrow, but I don’t budge. His persistence in being this domineering asshole is really getting old. He can’t expect me to be okay with him talking to me like a dog—actually, I’m pretty sure he was nicer to Wendigo than he is to me.
With the swipe of his hand, a black doorway appears in the wall. Or a… portal?
“Decide,” he growls. “Now.”
“We’re really going to have to work on your attitude.”
“Inconvenience me however you want, just do it tomorrow. Even angels need sleep.”
I roll my eyes as I step past him. “Pretty sure you’re the devil, not an angel.”
The black hole morphs into the entryway to a bedroom, making me pause in wonder. The room actually seems very normal, if not a bit Victorian—
“Who says I’m not both?”
I’m shoved through the portal—which briefly feels like I’m being torn apart by acid—and trip into my new bedroom.