Autumn Feast - Charlie Richards Page 0,45

need to show you both something.” He stood up and began to undo his shirt.

“Can’t wait.” Ravish made a sound of pleasure in his throat, licking his lips. “Should we put on some music?”

“Only the shirt, demon. Calm yourself.” Hamish turned around to show his back.

Ravish and Azrael approached, both marveling over the openings in Hamish’s shoulder blades.

“There are no feathers yet,” Hamish informed them. “But it’s only a matter of time. Nothing can be decided until the feathers start to emerge.” He turned to them. “The decision will be made for us.”

Ravish looked at him. “Unless your wings return to their original color, a mix of white and black. It will then be time to decide or fight.” Ravish looked at Azrael. “We may have to battle after all.”

“I look forward to running you through with my sword,” Azrael told him.

Ravish threw his dark head back and laughed.

“So, in the meantime”—Hamish put his shirt back on—”we wait.”

“Yes,” Liam chimed in. “So, we have time for a story. Azrael, you go first. Ravish, you mustn’t interrupt him until he’s finished. You’ll have your turn later. Agreed?”

Ravish retook his seat. He looked at Azrael. “You have the floor, my angelic friend. Try not to put me to sleep.”

Chapter Five: Azrael

Time didn’t have the same meaning to angelic beings. It all just seemed to seamlessly drift from century to century. Azrael’s existence was uncomplicated. He knew his role—to heal the distressed and escort the dying to another plain. That was all he knew.

When Michael, the great warrior, protector of all that was good in the world, told them they were at war, everything had changed. Azrael’s contact with demons was minimal, to say the least. They were there because they had to be, to balance the world order, and Azrael rarely gave them a thought. In the Between was Hamish, the hybrid, who stood as the fork in the road, the great tour guide, someone else Azrael had no reason to associate with.

“Demons are multiplying,” Michael had told them. “A devious plan by the Dark Lord to unbalance the universe. We are at war. Your mission is to hunt demons and destroy as many as you can. Go.”

That was it. Each with their sword, they took different paths and fought the good fight. Azrael had no idea how many of his demon adversaries he had cut down, but by the time he came face to face with the one they called Ravish, he was dog tired. More than that, he felt quite sad and alone. Killing one demon after another had demoralized him.

Ravish appeared when he was most vulnerable.

He’d been warned about Ravish. “He is a trickster,” Uriel, one of the other archangels told Azrael. “And he doesn’t seem entirely committed to the dark side, either. They say he’s a rebel, often found wandering the Place in Between. Like Hamish, he’s a malcontent. He is a great seducer.”

“He will not seduce me,” Azrael boasted.

“I’ve sensed your loneliness, my brother,” Uriel confessed. “Ravish is beautiful, a robustly sexual demon without loyalty to any cause. If you should encounter him, be on your guard.”

Uriel wasn’t kidding. The first time Azrael confronted Ravish, it was at an Inn, where every mortal appeared to be intoxicated and sexually aroused. And most of them hadn’t even been drinking.

“Have you succeeded in having sexual relations with every patron, Ravish?” Azrael called out to him. He found him out behind the Inn.

The moon was glowing overhead, the stars bright in the sky that night. He watched Ravish smack the mortal on the ass. “Go now, inside,” he urged. “Do up your breeches.”

Azrael waited for the mortal man to scurry past then moved closer to Ravish. He withdrew his sword.

“Azrael,” Ravish said, clapping his hands, “I was wondering when we’d meet. Your reputation proceeds you.”

“Really? So does yours, and from what I’ve just witnessed, it’s well deserved.” Azrael ran his gaze over him. Yes, Ravish was beautiful, divinely so, with thick, black hair and illuminating dark eyes. His face was truly a thing of beauty, with sensuous lips and high cheekbones. And he was tall, with a lithe, muscular body.

“Thank you so much,” Ravish said. “You’re not bad yourself, in a very feminine sort of way.”

“Don’t read my thoughts. It’s rude.” Azrael glared at him.

“A talent of mine. I’m sorry. I can’t resist. Your thoughts are so intriguing. Are you female, male, or something in between?” Ravish peered at him. “Whatever it is, it’s very stimulating.”

Azrael moved forward. “Enough. Prepare