Azagoth: A Demonica Novella

Chapter Seventeen

Lilliana paced across the twenty-foot diameter pentagram at the base of the portal out of Sheoul-gra, trying to work off the events of yesterday and the sleepless night alone in the giant bed, with reminders of other females all around her in Azagoth’s sex furniture. Without him there, all she could think about was how he’d used each and every item, and how she’d yet to banish those ghosts from the bedroom.

Now it might be too late.

Azagoth had disappeared after leaving her in his office, and according to Zhubaal, he’d gone to visit his “lover” again.

She’d punched him. Right in the nose. She’d believed Azagoth when he told her about his past relationship with Rhona, and Zhubaal wasn’t going to plant doubt in her head again.

Zhubaal was very clear on that now.

She only wished she could be as clear on how she felt about the situation she currently found herself in.

She had messed everything up. Thanks to her impulsiveness, she’d severed Azagoth’s last connection with his children. And thanks to her deception, he’d grown to care for her, and if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she cared for him, too.

She hadn’t intended for any of this to happen, hadn’t considered the collateral damage involved in her grand plan to abscond with the chronoglass.

If she left now, it might be the best thing for him. After all, their relationship was based on lies. She couldn’t handle it anymore. She’d reached a tipping point, one that was very close to toppling. She had to commit—to either staying...or leaving.

“Hi Lilliana.”

Startled, Lilliana whirled around. An Adonis-faced angel stood in the center of the pentagram, his crisp business suit as flawless as his distinguished salt-and-pepper hair and olive skin.

“Hutriel,” she gasped.

“It’s good to see you.”

She wished she could say the same, but she really did not like her ex. “Why are you here?”

His periwinkle eyes flashed imperiously. “I come with news from Raphael.”

Oh, shit. She had a sneaky suspicion she wasn’t going to like this news. “Well, spit it out.”

He stiffened in that haughty way of his. “I’m an angel of the Order of Virtues. I outrank you by three Orders. In addition, I’m an angel of good standing, while you...” He sneered at Azagoth’s manor. “You are a shameful wrongdoer undeserving of my company. You will address me with respect.”

“I give respect when it’s earned,” she said bluntly. “You lost mine a long time ago, and I don’t see it happening again soon, Rod of God.”

He used to love to point out that his name meant, “rod of God”, as if it made him important. He was a rod, all right, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate the alternative use of the word.

The egotistical rod.

“I don’t like your attitude,” he ground out.

“And I no longer care what you like or don’t like.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So tell me why you’re here or go away.”

His mouth pursed so tight she thought his teeth would break. “Raphael wants to know what’s taking you so long.”

“I have a month. It’s only been a few days. Tell him to hold his horses.”

Rod of God’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “That’s an archangel you’re speaking about.”

“He hasn’t earned my respect either. So why don’t you march your suck-up self back to Raphael and tell him...” Tell him what? That she’d changed her mind? Had she changed her mind? For sure? “Tell him I need more time. And I could use some help, as well. With my limited powers, the chronoglass is too heavy to move.”

“That’s not his problem.”

“No, it’s yours,” she said. “You’re the one who has to go back and tell him to bite me.”

“You’re very brave down here in Azagoth’s realm. Will you be so mouthy once you’re face to face with Raphael in his chambers?”

She’d deal with that when—and if—she stole the chronoglass.

“I don’t know. Will you be so mouthy when you’re face to face with Azagoth?”

He snorted. “It’s really too bad you’re not going to stay here. You deserve him.”

“How do you know I’m not staying?”

He laughed, a full-on belly laugh. “Come now, Lilliana. I know how you like your freedom. It’s why you left me, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “Mostly I left you because you’re a controlling asshole. It’s funny how Azagoth is talked about as if he’s a soulless monster, but he’s been better to me in a few days than you were in a hundred years.”

“Good...Lord,” he breathed. “You actually like him. You’re falling for him.” He stared at her, horror spreading over his perfect features as the truth of her situation began to solidify in his mind. “You’ve fucked him, haven’t you? You...whore.”

“You haven’t changed a bit. Still a judgmental dick.” Done with him, just like she’d been all those decades ago, she spun around and started toward the building. Walking away was as easy this time as it had been then. “Tell Raphael to suck an egg.”

He moved in a flash to snare her wrist and yank her back to him. Teeth bared, he snarled. “Find a way to steal the chronoglass, Lilliana. Raphael feels that giving you too much time has made you slack off. You now have two days to do it.”

She inhaled sharply. “What?”

“Two days, Whore of Sheoul-gra.” His eyes flared with exaggerated astonishment even as his fingers dug painfully hard into her flesh. “Oh, you don’t like that name? Because that’s what everyone is going to call you if you stay here. So get your ass in gear, or—”

A roar shattered the air, and suddenly Hutriel went airborne in a bloody explosion. A fine pink mist hung in the air as his wrecked body hit the ground inside the portal’s pentagram ring.

Lilliana pivoted toward the owner of that bloodcurdling roar, and her heart slammed hard into her rib cage. Azagoth, fully eviled-out, was pounding down the stairs three at a time, his massive, sharp teeth bared, his wings extended, his eyes glowing with crimson death.

“You dared to touch my mate?” His words were warped, guttural, and dripping with murder. He snarled, and Hutriel screamed as dozens of bones in his body snapped. “You. Will. Die.”

“Azagoth, no!” She leaped to intercept, but Hutriel, still inside the portal circle, disappeared in a glittery shower of sparks, barely escaping with his life.

He rounded on her, but his voice had tempered. “Who was he?”

“Take off your demon face,” she said in a low, soothing tone, “and we’ll talk.”

His nostrils flared, and a muffled, soft growl rumbled in his chest. He stared at the empty space where Hutriel used to be, his clawed hands flexing as if he was regretting the missed opportunity to rip the angel apart.

“Come on,” she urged quietly. “Shift back.”

Azagoth remained like that for a few seconds, and then he paced in a circle for a minute, until finally, he morphed back into his usual body. As he turned back to her, his tall, elegant form outfitted in black slacks and a matching button-down, she couldn’t help but think that the civilized clothing only heightened the awareness that underneath it all, he was death in human skin.

“Who. Was. He.”

“He was my ex,” she replied. “Hutriel.”

Azagoth’s nostrils flared and his eyes flickered with red sparks. “Why was he here?”

Oh, because he needed to tell me to hurry up and steal your chronoglass.

“He wanted to wish me good riddance,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in her voice. She hated lying to him, but at this point, the truth was only going to cause more pain, and she couldn’t do that to him again.

She’d done enough of that already.

“He grabbed you.” Once more, flickers of his inner beast formed as shadows in his expression. Quickly, she took his hand and pulled him to her, drawing him hard against her body, where she’d needed him to be since yesterday.

“We fought.” She slid her hand behind his neck and massaged him there, digging deep into muscles so tight they felt like bricks. “It’s what we do. But I don’t want it to be that way with you.”

“He touched you. I can...smell him.” With a growl, he hauled her even closer to him as he dipped his mouth to her ear. “I need to be inside you. I need to mark you. Brand you. Make him disappear forever.”

Oh...oh, damn. “Yes,” she whispered.

And with that, she knew for sure she wasn’t leaving.