it hurts?” his brother goaded.
Sammael laughed. He began to round the corner to his left, his cloven feet striking the floor in rhythmic clops. The massive ruby chandelier above them followed him as he moved. It was the fate of lessors to live in darkness, except for the light he brought them. “For a time it seemed as if his fascination with Evangeline Hollis had passed, but now he courts her again. What does he see in her? What is it about her that makes him cleave to her as he has not done with any woman since his wife, Awan?”
“I care not.”
“Truly? Now I see why they have abandoned you. You have grown lazy.” He brushed a hand across a succubus’s cheek as he passed by. “After all these years, out of all the females in the world—all the Marks and Infernals, all the nephilim and mortals—he finally recommits to this one unremarkable woman. And you do not ask yourself why?”
Raguel’s jaw tightened.
“I ask why,” Sammael murmured, having no need to raise his voice since no one would dare to speak over or around him. “What distinguishes her? Would you like to know what I have decided?”
“Not especially, no.”
The silence remained unbroken, but the shock of Raguel’s disrespect rippled outward. It would spread like a cancer if allowed.
As Sammael passed a berserker, he touched him. A loving, gentle caress that made the demon smile... before he dissolved into a rancid puddle that splashed over the bench to pooi on the floor. Fear spread through the room and tainted it with an acrid scent.
“I am feeling generous,” Sammael said, smiling, “so I will tell you anyway. I think it is her lack of faith that fascinates him. I think he relates to her agnosticism and finds compelling similarities between them.”
“Cain is pious,” Raguel bit out.
“Is he? Can he be?”
“Has he not proven so?”
“He is God’s primary enforcer. He kills as often as he breathes. Can such a creature carry love in his soul?”
“His love for Evangeline Hollis proves that to be true.”
“Does he love her? Truly? Or does something more base and raw move him? Perhaps he has a hidden purpose. Or perhaps it is simply an incestuous fondness for her name. Eve. The Temptress. As fresh in my thoughts now as she was the day I met her.”
“I pray her memory festers in your mind like an open sore.”
Sammael’s fists clenched beneath the concealment of his wings. “Cain running a firm. Who could have conceived of him reaching such heights? It must chafe you terribly.”
“Do you have a point, Sammael?”
“I am just conversing, my brother. It has been so long since you and I were last together.”
Raguel flapped his mighty wings, using the resulting updraft to push his worn body to its feet. “I have nothing to say. Send me back to my hell.”
“Say please.”
There was a protracted silence, then a snarled, “Please.”
His brother’s hatred was a writhing, burning thing.
Beautiful.
Pleased with the progressing state of affairs, Sammael sent Raguel back with a snap of his fingers while simultaneously shifting to his receiving room. Azazel appeared a moment later, taking a knee and bowing. Aside from similar height and form, his lieutenant was as different from him as Heaven and Hell. White hair and pale irises showcased skin like ivory, while garments of ice blue and silver emphasized Azazel’s frosty demeanor. He could chill a room with his presence and was most useful in cooling Sammael’s fiery temper.
“My liege,” Azazel murmured.
“What was your impression of Raguel?”
The demon’s gaze lifted. “He is unbroken, but soulweary.”
“Good. Exactly the way I want him. Now, tell me you have news.”
‘The yuki-onna, Harumi-san, betrayed us to Evangeline Hollis. Cain has returned to the field. It will be more difficult to reach her now.”
Sammael smiled. “She has other vulnerabilities.”
“Her best friend is backpacking in Europe, and her sister lives in Kentucky.”
“Excellent.”
“Her parents are local.”
Sammael moved toward his throne. His lower limbs changed as he crossed the mosaic floor, turning from hindquarters to legs. His wings retracted, sinking into his spine as if they had never been. “Leave them.”
“My liege, I think—”
“No, you do not.” He adjusted his black velvet slacks before sinking into his seat and gesturing for Azazel to rise. “Take away her family, and you take away her reason to live.”
“Why would that be a bad thing?”
“Her family keeps her mortal, which makes her weak. Why do you think the seraphim choose the unencumbered to be Marks? A soul is most dangerous when it