Chapter Twelve #2
unfortunate accident, not a single soul got into the Sanctum without Azagoth’s
approval, and while most spent no more than a few seconds with the Grim Reaper,
every once in a while he pulled one aside, and no
one wanted to be that guy.
“Hawkyn.” Azagoth didn’t even turn to look at him. “Are you
here to tackle me again?”
“Twice in twenty-four hours would be considered rude,”
Hawkyn said, mirroring the amused tone in his father’s voice. It was always
smart to start off any conversation with Azagoth on a positive note.
Azagoth grunted, which Hawk was going to take as a laugh.
“Then what can I do for you?”
“I just talked to Emerico. He says you agree with him that
Aurora should leave.”
With a wave of his hand, Azagoth froze the soul parade in
their tracks and turned to Hawkyn. “That’s a slight mischaracterization of what
I said.”
Hope zinged through him. “Then she can stay?”
“No. I said I think you should be able to have her
here.” The fireplace on the far wall flared to life, sparked by nothing more
than Azagoth’s thoughts. “But there are rules. She has to
go.”
Son of a bitch. Hawk’s heart sank to his feet. So much for
hope. Aurora deserved better than this, and he was going to keep fighting for
her. And this wasn’t even about the guilt he harbored for putting the wheels of
her situation into motion. This was about the fact that he liked her.
Primori or not, she was special.
“That’s not right and you know it,” he said fiercely.
“There’s a serial killer after her. She’s not Primori, so rules shouldn’t apply
to her.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” Azagoth propped his hip on
his desk and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “The Memitim Council
only allows me to keep Sheoul-gra open to Memitim as long as they don’t use it
to thwart the Council’s rules or to interfere with Primori fates.”
“I’m not using Sheoul-gra for either of those things,” he
argued. “I have confirmation that Drayger’s fate hasn’t been changed by
anything I’ve done with Aurora. Besides, this is your realm. Your rules. You
can get the Memitim Council to change their minds. Make them.”
“I can’t, son,” Azagoth said, and Hawkyn nearly fell over.
Azagoth had never directly addressed him that way, and Hawkyn wasn’t sure what
to say. Fortunately, Azagoth continued speaking, sparing him a response. “There
are only so many things I can negotiate for. I only have so many cards to play,
and I can’t waste them on a single human female.”
“But—”
“No. You have a duty. A duty to your Primori. Not to a
random human.”
“She’s neither random nor human,” he gritted out. “And I
don’t need to be lectured about duty.”
Azagoth’s curse accompanied a sudden shove to his feet and a
tangible tension in the air.
“You have feelings for this female. That’s stupid, Hawk.
You’re letting your emotions affect the job. And your
actions. It’s a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Hawkyn snorted. “I can’t believe you
just said that. You, who changed your entire realm for a female who seems to be
avoiding you more often than not.”
“My relationship with my mate is none of your concern.”
A niggle of warning told Hawkyn he should shut up. Right
now. But dammit, he liked Lilliana, his father had been a ginormous asshat
recently, and his temper was already on the verge of eruption.
Azagoth’s blood did flow in his veins, after all.
“It’s a concern of mine when Lilliana’s been more of a
parent to me than you’ve ever been,” he said. “I don’t want to see her hurt.”
Hissing, Azagoth rounded on him, and Hawk wondered what had
pissed him off more; that Lilliana had been a better parent or that Hawkyn was
accusing Azagoth of hurting her.
“I’ve provided you food, shelter, training—”
“Congratulations on doing the bare minimum, Dad.
You going to take a bow for the six seconds it took you to ensure conception?”
If the crimson rage in Azagoth’s cheeks was any indication, this was a sore
subject too, but Hawk was too worked up to hit the brakes. “At least my mother
carried me inside her body before she dumped me in the human realm to fend for
myself.”
Azagoth went as still as an ice sculpture. “If you’re so
unhappy with your circumstances, why are you here?”
Good question. Until just a couple of years ago he’d resided with other Memitim in a Belgian castle, one
of several “group homes” where Memitim lived and trained if they didn’t want to
live by themselves or serve Azagoth—pre-Lilliana, when he was still evil
off-the-charts. But post-Lilliana, when their father opened
up his realm to them, many, if not most, had come looking for something
that had eluded the majority of them since
birth—belonging to a family. A real parent. Brothers and sisters. And even though
Azagoth could be a huge asshole, life in Sheoul-gra was still better than
anything else Hawk had experienced.
“I’m not unhappy,” he said. “Not here.”
“But you are unhappy.”
Hawkyn had never really thought about it like that. He’d
been fucking great at his job, duty-bound to the point of ignoring even simple
pleasures. But yeah, now that Azagoth mentioned it, he’d been increasingly
dissatisfied with a lot of shit.
“I despise the bullshit Memitim rules. No alcohol besides
wine. No sex. No self-gratification. Limited interaction with humans, demons,
or angels who aren’t Memitim. The fact that we’re considered lesser angels,
second-class citizens. I want to Ascend so I can become a Council member and
change things. Did you know that some of the Council members are angels?
Regular angels who were never Memitim? What kind of shit is that? How can they
make the rules for people they don’t respect or understand?”
Azagoth gave him a “duh” look because of course he knew
angels sat on the Memitim Council. Hawk’s mother was one of them.
“I understand your frustration,” Azagoth said as he moved to
the fully stocked bar, probably to rub Hawkyn’s nose in the fact that he wasn’t
supposed to drink the fine rum he was reaching for. “Heaven has been making the
rules for Sheoul-gra for thousands of years.”
“And you bend and break them all the time.”
“I know which ones can be altered.” The rum made a soft
gurgling sound as Azagoth poured it into a highball glass. “I know which are
worth paying the price for.”
“And you don’t think allowing Aurora to stay here is worth
the price.”
“Nope.” He took a swig of his drink. “Take my advice, son.
Life is way too long to spend it with regrets. Send the female away and don’t
look back.”
“Like you did with us? With our mothers?” It was a cheap
shot, a throwaway line borne of hundreds of years of frustration. And maybe
some abandonment issues.
“You know nothing,” Azagoth growled. “I don’t owe you an
explanation.”
“Actually, I think you owe me and my siblings a lot.”
Azagoth’s eyes began to glow with an unholy blood-red light,
and Hawkyn knew he’d poked the beast one too many times. “Get. Out.”
“Out of your office?” he snapped. “Or out of Sheoul-gra?”
“Your choice.” There was no hesitation. No wavering of
resolve in Azagoth’s gaze or his voice. “But either way, get out of my sight,
and take the female with you.”
Hurt sliced through him. His father didn’t give a flying
fuck if he left. Well, maybe Hawk should take his advice. The one useful thing
Azagoth had given him.
“No regrets, right?” He wheeled around and impulsively
snatched the bottle of rum off Azagoth’s bar top before opening the office
door. “Don’t look back.”
He didn’t.
But damn, it hurt.