Chapter 21
A fter Kyla left, Azazel wandered back to the mansion, his mind in a constant whir of what he’d learned about Kyla and what had happened today.
Being a demon, Azazel had seen, heard, and done, some rather macabre things in his time, but what Tony and Kyla’s mother had done to her was something that not even he would have ever thought possible. Exactly like Sam said—you couldn’t even dream it up.
Aimlessly walking around the gardens, kicking bits of dirt and stones out of his way, Azazel tried to understand where his head was at and why this bothered him so much. Usually, for him, things entered his head for all of a minute, max, then left again, leaving not a trace behind. If it served him to store it to memory, then he would, but no scenarios had ever left a scar on his mind that caused him to overthink like this.
Had it been Sam that affected him? Sure, she’d been emotional recalling the story, but that hadn’t bothered him. He’d had plenty of women in tears in his time and not one of them had ever broken through his steel layers to prick an ounce of sympathy from him.
By process of elimination, if it wasn’t Sam’s teary tale telling that had filtered through to his conscience then the only conclusion left was that it was who the tale was about.
But why? What was so special about Kyla that hearing such a ghastly story pained him so much? Somehow, she had managed to evoke emotions in him that hadn’t stirred for thousands of years. How?
Amor aeternus sprung to his mind, reminding him of the spell Balthazar had cast when he brought them here.
A ball of dread settled in his stomach as his heart lurched. No, no, no, he thought to himself. This isn’t possible. Balthazar wanted this, not me.
“Rule number one and the most important rule,” Lucifer had said, when he’d first recruited them both. “Professional emotional detachment. Absolutely vital if you have any chance of surviving around here.”
This was the first time in all his years of serving Lucifer he had ever encountered a problem with this rule. His life as a demon, up to now, had been pretty much as you’d expect—full of torture, mischief, and all things grisly. It was his job, after all. But all being said, even a demon had rules to follow. They didn’t kill innocents or create chaos for anyone that didn’t deserve karma.
The souls in Hell that they tortured were there for a reason and Azazel and his brother were there to carry out the sentences delivered. To inflict Hell punishments on someone who had done nothing to deserve it went against Lucifer’s rules. Doing that was something not even a demon would do.
For two humans who were supposed to love and care for Kyla to actively premeditate something as horrific as what they did sparked a fire in him. For them to betray her as they did, what kind of people were they?
A slow malicious grin spread over his face as he looked forward to the day their souls ended up on his torture table. What fun he would have.
Then he questioned himself as to why he wanted revenge for Kyla. Some of the souls he’d torn to pieces were worthy of their pain—child murderers, child molesters, rapists, they all deserved whatever Azazel had done to them, but he’d never actively thought about one human and wanted to singularly avenge what happened to her specifically.
The further he delved inside himself and his thoughts, the more of a mangled mess he became. By the time the skies turned dark, the stars winking at him from the black velvet above, Azazel hadn’t achieved anything other than wearing a path in the damp grass.
“Where did you go?” Balthazar asked, striding across the grass to his brother.
“I went to see Kyla at the pub.”
Balthazar studied his brother for a few seconds before asking, “Why?”
Azazel shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. When Sam told me what happened, I just couldn’t stop thinking about her. Sam saying she was worried about her, I wanted to make sure she was ok. Turns out she wasn’t.”
“How so?”
“Well, when I found her, she was strangling her boss to death in the pantry.”
Balthazar widened his eyes. “What? For real?” He then narrowed his eyes and took a step towards his brother. “Did you influence her to do that?”
Azazel shoved him in his shoulder, pushing him back two steps. “No. That’s what she was doing when I turned up. Anyway, to cut a long story short, he’s dead, the pub is closed, and Kyla’s at home.”
“Did you kill him or did she?”
“I did but only after asking her if that’s what she really wanted.” Azazel took a breath and thought back over that moment, the gleam in her ocean blue eyes as she’d watched Keith die gave him pleasant chills. “She’s a loose cannon, Balthazar. Sam’s right—she’s right on the edge.”
Balthazar folded his arms over his chest and grinned at his brother. “Ok. And?”
“And I’m worried.”
Silence fell between the two. Balthazar stared at his older brother, waiting for the penny to drop. Azazel stared back at him, trying to figure out what his younger brother was thinking.
“What?” Azazel asked. “What are you staring at?”
“You. Wondering when you’re going to figure out what’s happening here.”
Azazel shot his sibling a murderous glare before replying, “Fuck. Off.”
Balthazar chuckled and took a step back, holding his hands up in a surrender sign. “I’m just saying the Azazel from twelve hours ago is a very different Azazel to now. There’s only one reason that’s happened. Just think about it.”
With that, Balthazar turned and left, heading back to the house. He walked in and headed straight to the living room, wanting to sit on the sofa in front of the fire and think back over his day with a nice glass of whiskey. He strode over to the crystal decanter in the corner of the room and poured himself a glass of much needed alcohol. He’d had a fantastic day with Sam, one he hoped would soon be repeated.
Walking over to the sofa, daydreaming of the blonde beauty, Mildred shimmered into existence in front of him just as he sat down. “Don’t worry about him, he will be fine. I believe he may be facing his inner demons.”
“If it weren’t for the fact he’s just told me he’s worried about a human, and we’ve just managed a normal conversation without his egotistical arrogance getting in the way, I’d be laughing at you. But as it happens, I’m dumbfounded and also rather relieved that there is still a speck of humanity left in him.”
Mildred chuckled. “Perhaps I need not point out that to utilise this to your advantage would be the best course of action here. Whilst he is feeling weakened and soft, use it to show him the ideals of love.”
“He will only ever accept what he wants to, Mildred. And if I force it on him, he’ll reject it. He needs to embrace this at his own pace.”
Mildred clasped her hands together in front of her and smiled. “He may find his pace quickened by his desire for the girl. His body will react before his mind. He will need you to keep his mind up to speed.”
“Noted,” he said, inclining his head towards her. “Thank you.”
“And I presume you are aware of the one who completes you being near?”
Balthazar nodded. “I think so. I initially thought my connection was potentially with one, but I feel a strangely strong connection to another.” Balthazar thought over what had happened with Sam today, a feeling of serene peace settling inside him. “I’m certain it’s her.”
Mildred said, “The one often comes along from a place not expected. I am not surprised that she has appeared whilst your attention was drifting towards another. I presume you are aware of what you must do in order to confirm your suspicions regarding your demi-soul?”
Balthazar nodded and took a swig of whiskey. “I am.”
“Be careful, Balthazar. Sometimes the answer we crave is not the one given.”
With nothing but a sly smirk to follow her words, Mildred disappeared, leaving a thoughtful demon to wonder what exactly she meant.