no matter how large or small—but when Azrael asked about your burgeoning talents, I faltered.
“It’s unclear right now the manner of his seduction. His powers have not fully manifested.” It was true enough for you were only on the cusp of realizing your potential.
“Perhaps I should have allowed Lena more blood during gestation,” Azrael said thoughtfully, yet utterly lacking in compassion. I felt a pang of empathy for her. It seemed he really was denying her bloodmeals. For our tribe, hunger was the worst of all cravings. It drove us to madness and made death seem a welcome reprieve.
“I want to be kept abreast of his talents,” Azrael continued. “There may be a place for him in the Imperium.”
Not if I could help it.
“He’s young still,” I reminded Azrael. I recalled the night before, when you’d knelt at your bedside during our meditation, then kissed the gold cross you wore around your neck. It was a ritual your Papa had established and one that you maintained. “He hasn’t learned yet to control his hunger.”
“Which is an excellent reason for you to take him on as your apprentice.”
“Apprentice?” I said with mounting dread.
“You said yourself he needs constant supervision.”
“Yes, but I don’t believe demon hunting would suit him. He’s lived a very sheltered life.”
“All the more reason for you to introduce him to your labor. Violence is second-nature to bloodborns.”
My shoulders tensed. I rejected Azrael’s assessment wholeheartedly.
“I sense you’d like to offer some rebuttal,” Azrael said. I might be able to swallow my objections, but my energy gave me away.
“Bloodborns crave human blood the way humans crave animal flesh, but that hunger alone doesn’t make either of our natures inherently violent. Vincent is gentle and kind with a strong sense of justice. One mistake doesn’t change that, and I fear if he’s exposed to the less savory aspects of my work, it may make it even easier for Lena to corrupt him.”
“It’s a delicate balance,” Azrael said. “But one of the reasons we allow your kind to inhabit the earthen realm, despite the risks it involves, is because of the services you provide. Perhaps he’d be better suited to the life of a Shade Vale guard.”
Shade Vale guards were some of the most miserable beings on earth. Confined to the prisons they surveilled, they were little more than captives themselves.
“I want for Vincent to lead a blessed life,” I said, trying to keep the obstinacy out of my tone. “As I was promised at the end of his previous existence.”
“There’s nothing virtuous about feeding on humans,” Azrael said coldly.
My anger ignited. I’d spent a lot of time wrestling with my duality, and when Azrael spoke like that, he reduced our kind to animals.
“There was a time when gods fed on human flesh,” I reminded him. Our own matron Medusa was one of many immortals with a thirst for human heme, not to mention the bloodsport Azrael inspired when he’d been the Angel of Death and Destruction. I even detected his subtle machinations in many of the modern conflicts between nations.
“That was long ago,” Azrael said.
“Is feeding upon the human spirit so very different from feeding upon their lifeblood?” I challenged. If the realms were an ecosystem, angels like Azrael were at the top of the food chain.
“I do not wish to discuss the finer points of angelic law with you, Henri. I’ve made my decision,” Azrael said, ending our discussion on the matter. “Vincent will be your apprentice. You will train him in the art of demon hunting, and when we uncover his true capabilities, we’ll determine the next course of action.”
How casually he determined your fate. This should have been discussed and debated, not rushed, and certainly not decided without my consent.
But how could I negotiate when the power balance was so skewed? Azrael had the Thrones’ ear, the Potestas’ authority, and the Imperium’s muscle, not to mention full dominion over the earthen realm.
Still, when it came to you, I had to make my intent clear.
“I’ve told Lena this, and I will tell you as well, my lord. Vincent will not be used as a weapon or bargaining chip in one of the many disputes between gods.”
“Our time together is ending,” Azrael said, ignoring my demands. “But I would encourage you to teach him to control his thirst before he finds himself confined to a Shade Vale of his own making.”
Was that a reference to my own centuries-long incarceration? I’d storm the holy realms with swords drawn before I’d let