Chapter Ten
Razr had fucked up. Big time.
Oh, he didn’t regret telling Jedda that the stone he’d
wanted her to “find” belonged to him. She’d either cop to having it or she
wouldn’t. What he regretted was that he’d let this get personal. He’d gotten
too close to her, and the crazy thing was that he didn’t even know how it
happened. Or when.
All he knew was that when she’d started talking about dating
humans, he suddenly wanted to find every one of her past lovers and put them in the ground while he was still considered enough of a
fallen angel to get away with it.
And now his feelings were going to make shit real fucking
awkward if she didn’t admit to sending his Enoch gem to Scotland for
safekeeping.
After dropping the truth on her like a two-ton bomb, he let
her process the news. As he showered––alone––he told himself that he hadn’t
given her even a second to respond because he’d needed to clean up. But the
truth was that he didn’t want her to lie to him. He’d give her time to do the
right thing on her own.
Please do the right thing.
His chest tightened as he considered what would happen if she did hand over the stone. He’d go back to Heaven, and
she’d... Well, she’d be stuck on Earth, dating inferior human men and scouring
the planet for valuable stones for evil assholes like Shrike.
Shrike. Shit. Razr was going to have to do something about
that douchebag. The original plan had been to placate the guy with the crystal
horn, which Azagoth had agreed to give up under one
condition: That even after Razr had been restored as Razriel,
he would continue training the Memitim twice a month.
For the next century. And after the century of work was up,
he wanted the crystal horn back.
No, Azagoth didn’t give away
anything for free or out of the goodness of his black heart. The Grim Reaper
put a price on everything, and he always got the better end of the bargain.
After showering, Razr turned the bathroom over to Jedda,
intentionally keeping the conversation limited so they didn’t have to discuss
his Enoch gem. Yet. While she showered, he dressed in the only clothes besides
his burlap robes he had, the faded Levi’s, plain black T-shirt, leather jacket,
and black boots he’d worn to Scotland. He didn’t need much since he rarely left
Sheoul-gra, after all.
Jedda came out of the bathroom in the outfit she’d worn here
yesterday: black skinny jeans, an oversized jade button-down shirt, and leather
ankle boots. Her wet hair hung in a cascade of shimmering silver-blue down her
back, a few strands curling around her chin and flushed pink cheeks. Her
delicately pointed ears peeked out from the curtain of hair, and if he hadn’t
seen the elf in her before, he did now.
Was it really true? In the library
last night before his Azdai glyph
had demanded a sound whipping, he’d asked Azagoth and
Hades if they were aware of the existence of elves. Hades scoffed at the
notion, but Azagoth had been less skeptical.
“I’ve heard tales of their realm,” Azagoth
had said, “supposedly shared by fairies, as well. But if they exist, their
deaths aren’t governed by demon law.”
“Meaning you’ve never had an elf soul come through Sheoul-gra,” Razr mused, disappointed in Azagoth’s answer. He’d hoped the ancient fallen angel who
seemed to know everything would have some insight into Jedda’s story.
Azagoth had confirmed the fact
that he’d never seen an elf soul...and then he promptly flogged the hell out of
him.
Razr couldn’t fucking wait to be done with this shit.
“So what now?” Jedda shifted her
weight with uncharacteristic nervousness as he finished tying his boots.
She had to be wondering what to tell him about the diamond.
She might even be wondering if he knew she had it.
“Now we grab the crystal horn and get a bite to eat. We can
plot our next move over breakfast.” Hopefully, her next move would be
to tell him she had his gem, but one thing at a time.
She offered him a fragile smile. “Sounds good.” She glanced
over at the closet and then back at him. “Why is your closet full of robes? Is
that your uniform down here?”
He went so taut that even his brain shut down for a second.
He’d never told anyone about them. Not even Azagoth.
Back at Jedda’s apartment, she’d mentioned that he didn’t
seem damaged, but those robes... Those were his damage. No, he wasn’t broken
and bitter like so many fallen angels, but he carried scars and remorse like
everyone else, and sometimes self-flagellation was more effective than anything
others could do to him.
“Razr?” She moved closer, until he could smell the
pine-scented soap she’d used in his shower. “What is it? You can tell me.”
“Can I?” He stood, towering over her in a move meant not to
intimidate, but to make an impression. “If I tell you, will you promise to give
me a straight answer when the time comes?”
She blinked, confused and caught in a trap. If she said no,
she’d be admitting she had something to hide. If she said yes, she’d be
obligated to tell the truth no matter what he asked.
“I...ah...of course.”
He swung open his apartment door and ushered her out. His
voice was mortifyingly hoarse when he spoke. “The robes aren’t a uniform. I
choose to wear them because they’re abrasive and painful on my back when it’s
sensitive from the floggings, and they constantly remind me why I’m here.”
Sometimes, when his guilt was extra intense, he’d actually give himself a lash or two, just so he felt more
pain. But that little shameful secret was his and his alone.
He felt her eyes on him as they exited the dormitory
building and walked across the lawn to Azagoth’s
manor.
“Doesn’t being here remind you of that?”
“It isn’t enough,” he snapped, years of regret and anger
spilling into his words. “People died because my team and I lost valuable
weapons in the fight against demons.” He mounted the massive staircase, his
booted feet clanging loudly in the still air. “If we don’t recover my diamond,
the garnet, and the bracelet that goes with it, we’ll be that much weaker in
the Final Battle. Worse, if those stones fall into the wrong hands, they could
be used for evil.”
As they entered the building he glanced over at Jedda, who
looked a little green. Now she really looked like an elf.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was ragged and her eyes haunted, and
he wondered what she was thinking. What she was
feeling. Guilt, maybe?
Inhaling deeply, he calmed himself, forcing the past behind
him. For now.
He paused in front of the room they had been about to enter
yesterday before Hades summoned him to Azagoth’s
library. “You’re going to love it in here.”
“I know.” Shadows still flitted in her eyes, but her skin
had brightened with excitement, glittering faintly in the light from the
sconces on the walls. “I can already sense the power emanating from at least a
dozen gemstones.”
He threw open the door, and she didn’t wait. She was
practically a blur as she raced around the room, stopping in front of various
display cases and stands. Some things she touched, some she avoided, and when
she saw the crystal horn she both smiled and backed away, muttering something
about quartz crystal and kryptonite. She reminded him of a delicate
hummingbird, flitting from treasure to treasure, and when she finally came to
rest at a brilliant ruby the size of her fist, he joined her.
“This one sings with power,” she whispered. “It’s so evil,
but so…tempting.”
He remembered what she’d said about some stones acting like
drugs on her species, and he wondered if she was falling under the ruby’s
intoxicating spell.
“That,” he said, as he peered at the gemstone from over her
shoulder, “was given to Azagoth by Lucifer himself.”
She jerked back with a hiss. “Satan?”
He was close enough to feel her heat and smell her natural,
spicy scent beneath the artificial pine of his soap, and his cock stirred to
life again. Not that he could do anything about it here, in Azagoth’s
plunder room. Disrespecting the Grim Reaper landed you in the statue room as a
living work of grotesque art.
“Satan and Lucifer are two different people,” he told her.
“Lucifer is dead, but some say his spirit lives on in that stone.” It wasn’t
true––Azagoth would know if that were the case. But
it was hard to kill rumors like that.
And sometimes, you didn’t want to kill them. You wanted to
nurture them.
“So much malevolence in that one.” Jedda shuddered and moved
on to the slightly smaller blue topaz next to the ruby. “This one, too. My
sister Manda would have loved it.” She turned to him, her expression troubled,
her crystal eyes glassier than usual. “Don’t let Azagoth
trade these, or sell them, or give them away. They’re dangerous.” She
swallowed. “Really dangerous.”
“I don’t have much influence over him, but I’ll tell him
what you said.”
She nodded absently and moved on to the next gem, a
grape-sized tanzanite that sparkled atop its black velvet base. Closing her
eyes, she trailed her finger over the shiny surface. “This one is incredibly
powerful. Full of neutral energy. So much that an elf could absorb it, but the
stone itself would have to be warehoused.”
He stared at her, confused. “Wait. When you absorb
gemstones, don’t they disappear into your body?”
“Ideally, yes.” As she spoke she
looked down at the tanzanite, her long lashes casting shadows on her face. She
was mesmerized by the gem, but he was mesmerized by what she was saying, unsure
if he liked where this might be going. “But some stones are too large or too
strong to be fully contained in our bodies. We can absorb their properties, but
the stone itself must be stored somewhere safe.”
He froze as the implications of what she’d just said sunk
in. If she’d absorbed his Ice Diamond, it could be lost to him.
“Somewhere safe,” he repeated, almost numbly. “Like a dhampire vault protected by Wardens?”
“Exactly,” she said with a nod, and frost formed in his