He looked at Rosier in his arms, curled into himself somewhat, unnoticed as Armoni tried to usher him into an adjacent washing room.
‘I never told you, Rosier, that I was excited too when we both spoke for the first time, and we learned that we were like each other but no one else.I despised fucking, and you didn’t understand it.I know that our bond is why you begged Asmodeus to intervene, to try to keep Moloch from hurting me.I know, I know.If I didn’t, I would have told you to leave Asmodeus’ side long ago.I watched you cling to him, and him to you.I comforted you when you wept of Asmodeus sleeping with others, and I encouraged you to mind your body more, to listen to what it wants.I wanted to tell you that he’s no good for you; I think you knew that I wanted to tell you that.’Asmodeus had been selfish, possessive, and Rosier had been gentle, patient, so willing to forgive.‘You would even forgive Asmodeus hollowing you out.Maybe that's exactly what he did.’
But as the two of them settled against a grooming divan — ignoring all the toppled furniture and shattered oils and the wet floor — Armoni didn’t dare to voice any of that.He hugged the still dead-eyed Rosier to his side, let the demon’s head fall to press against his neck.
“Rosier,” he simply said, “don’t… lose your mind.Demons, angels — we don’t die, do we?Even humans don’t die; their souls weigh down into the fires or they remain in the leaves.I think Asmodeus is in the leaves.And I think he can be brought back.He can.”But Rosier remained eerily quiet, Asmodeus’ arm loose in his hold.
Moloch’s voice filtered in: “It’s a shame.I really did like Asmodeus.Didn’t we all?Very reasonable demon.Very sharp.Great fuck.”His followers laughed.“But our lives will be easier without him, and it’s what he gets for not standing with me when I came up to him before Hell burnt up.”
One of Moloch’s friends added with a snicker: “And he left behind that Rosier that he was so obsessed with.Now that he’s a widow, he might need a little comfort, right?”Rosier's grip on Asmodeus's arm tightened; his fingers dug into the dead flesh.Armoni felt him stiffen, tried to call his name, but Rosier didn't react.He stared at a wall.Toward Moloch's voice.
In the grand dining hall of the tower, the demons worked quick under Satan’s commands to set up the table long enough to seat hundreds, and then they emptied out some of the stored dried meats and drinks and spices.They hadn’t the time for cooking, and so the plating was shamefully simple.The guests, however, didn’t seem to care.When Azazel waved a hand, allowing his Watchers to help themselves — they pounced, shoved aside the chairs to grab at the food with their hands, then shoveled it into their mouths.There were few exceptions — Kokabiel, who poked at the food curiously, and Baraqiel who stood still beside him, and Samyaza, who twitched, who stared at the food but seemed to refuse to eat it if the standing Azazel didn’t.
“Sit, sit,” Satan urged, going to the head of the table, settling down on his chair.Baal was beside him, too, as were other dukes and demons, curious like children, a few grimacing over how they might’ve contributed to the state of the Watchers now.“How long has it been since we’ve spoken, dear friend?”
“Before you left,” Azazel reminded him.“But you don’t speak to me as often as you used to.”He then reached for a cup of wine just poured for him, then swirled it in interest.He heard a grunt by his ear, looked at Samyaza, read the gaze in his eyes.‘You don’t seem happy,’ Azazel thought, then brought the wine to his old lover's lips, tilted the glass.Samyaza, dutifully, sipped, painting his lips.
Twirling a fork, Satan leaned back into his chair.“And why have you come?I never would have thought that once you Watchers gained your freedom that you’d come right back to me.”
Azazel hummed, then he lowered himself onto a chair finally, setting his wine glass on the table."We've been looking for you."
“For revenge?”Satan's tone was still light, but Baal shifted behind him.“You,” he decided to remind him, “and all the Watchers will surely burn as I will.”Satan's gaze rose to the window behind Azazel to see Babylon still burning.From this room, he could more clearly see how the Watchers had torn through buildings on their way to the tower, leaving a trail of rubble and bodies in their wake.‘My empire.’If Babylon fell, that would be another prophecy fulfilled.‘I need them away from here.’
“Does it ever frighten you, Lucifer?"Azazel asked, his voice soft but sharp; he wasn't going to play the devil's games anymore, much like God."Knowing you've failed spectacularly?"
Satan's jaw tightened."Tell me why you sought me out with all your Watchers.You didn't answer me.Are you here to try to inflict revenge on me?"
"Revenge," Azazel said again, as if tasting the word."Revenge would be nice.But I know, perhaps better than you, that you’ve already destroyed yourself.You always wanted to be like God, Lucifer, haven't you?Well, you’ve become perfectly like him — a tyrant, a selfish, jealous, vain parent.And I’m the one leading an army now, against you.You’ve become the greatest evil that you always wanted to be.”Satan went still, but otherwise smothered any further reaction.“I don't need to enact revenge on you.Your world is ending, and you will be tormented forever.”Then, Azazel paused, the sounds of violent eating like a choir around him.“But there is someone other than you that has to suffer.Michael.Won’t you tell me how to harm him, Lucifer?”
Satan thought of Michael's face as he'd held him captive in Heaven.The trembling.The kiss.The desperate, aching need masked as hatred.‘The taste of his mouth still lingers on mine, Azazel.In Heaven, he tempted himself to touch me because he held me captive.He needed me at his mercy.He still loves me.But he can only bring himself to love me if we're hurling toward death.He can only love me with a sword pressed to my throat.’Satan saw his own child in his mind, for a moment.A round face, flushed cheeks, dark hair, a grasping hand.The redness so dark that it was nearly black, the blood leaking into the flames, the smell of burning.The last few wails as Satan hacked out his own cries, begging for this all to end and for forgiveness.
In Moloch’s chamber, Rosier listened to the rebel dismiss his followers, then kiss Ara noisily, hungrily, before leading Ara out as well, likely thinking that it would be too dangerous to waste time fucking.After the door thumped shut, Rosier rose to his feet, unsteady, slow, and pulled away from Armoni.He put one foot before the other, distantly heard Armoni's confused calls.Stepping into the main room, Rosier noticed all the weaponry that Moloch had lying around, including a long, sharp sword resting on the arm of a couch, the same one that Moloch was presently settling over and finishing a drink on.“Mm.”He looked up at the sound of shuffling, then he quirked a brow.
‘I did it accidentally once,’ Rosier thought numbly, then he placed Asmodeus’ arm on a counter to his left.‘All of this was an accident.’
“Rosier,” Moloch began, cheery.“You were?—”
The fruit demon lunged forward, reached the sword in time, and just as Moloch’s eyes went wide, Rosier wedged the blade into the muscles of his throat.Hands flying to his neck, the larger demon tried to yell but managed only a wet, gurgling sound as blood splattered out onto Rosier's face.Moloch lifted a hand to Rosier’s head, prepared to shove him off, as he growled and thrashed.But then Armoni was running over from the adjacent room, and he threw himself on top of Moloch, grappling his hair, holding him in place.Rosier and Armoni, both on top of Moloch.Rosier, sawing the sword until it chipped at the bone.
Moloch screamed in wrath, but when his body finally gave, his head came free.The sword clattered, and then the headless body slumped in agonized twitches while the face of Armoni’s captor fell to the leg of an overturned chair beside the couch.
Rosier stared at the severed head — Moloch's mouth open, groaning, unable to piece together a single word.‘I rebuilt Asmodeus.I loved him for an eternity after what he did to me.I devoted myself to caring for him.’He felt Moloch's body jerk beneath him.‘I’ll never care for anyone again.’He would never choose kindness again.
“Rosier—” Armoni’s raw, trembling whisper.
And Rosier crawled off Moloch, off the couch, to Asmodeus’ arm he’d left on the counter.Then, he made his way back to Armoni to grab him and take off running.The door slammed open as Rosier ran into it, and once they made it into the hallway, he yanked Armoni toward the endless spiral staircase at the center of the tower.“We need to leave.”He'd planned to run away with Asmodeus, again, again.He'd wanted to run away with him forever.
Panting, Armoni looked at Rosier’s desperate, bloodied face, and he wanted to scream that they couldn't go anywhere in this true world.But then he remembered the last time he'd tried to run with Rosier, when they'd visited the still captive Watchers.Armoni had called his child.Had it followed?Sighing, broken, terrified, Armoni willed himself to purse his lips, whistle low.A screech — in the distance.Of course his child had followed; this tower belonged to Hell; and the Leviathan guarded everything of Hell.“Let’s get on the Leviathan away from here,” Armoni suggested softly, “and leave.”Rosier squeezed his hand.
“Michael has,” Satan whispered, “a daughter.If you want revenge, then do what he did to you.Kill her.”
CHAPTER38
Two young men were in bed, in a house, breathing easy — as if the apocalypse weren't raging, slaughtering the good and evil alike.Falling in love often feels like the end of the world, after all.Biblical revelation even felt less frightening in comparison.If Tadeo were brave, he'd say something like, ‘I think that I love you biblically — with blood on my hands, lies in this body, and the need for you to give it all meaning.’
Dante was lying on his side, settled on the mattress before him and scrambling dominos over the bedsheets.Earlier, before moving into this lonely place to sleep alongside Tadeo's family, they'd found the dominos in some rubble and had spent the morning playing.They were only in their briefs — Tadeo sitting cross-legged, without his facial bandages, and Dante, still pouting after he’d lost rather spectacularly.“Ya,” he was saying, shoving the dominos away now.“No more.Fuck you.”When the anti-Christ laughed, Dante said, “I'm never doing this with you again.”He lifted a foot, used it to shove at Tadeo, who just grinned more.“Since you're cheating and all.”
“I'm not cheating.”Tadeo took Dante's ankle, pulled, and heard the soldier's yelp as he was dragged along the mattress.“I told you that my miracles don't work like that.”He climbed on top of Dante, then smiled down at the soldier's huffing.
