Nope, Azagoth didn’t give a shit about any of that.What hecared about was getting his emotions under control and his life in order.Hedidn’t know how to deal with his rogue emotions, but he did have an idea aboutthe rest.
Unfortunately, that meant dealing with the Memitim Council,and for some reason, the only people ever appointed to the Council hated him.
For thousands ofyearshe’d keptout of their business, letting them govern the Memitim in whatevershortsighted, dumbass manner they saw fit.
But those days were over.Azagoth had been absent as aparent, very hands-off, and as a result, his children had suffered.
There was a tap at the door, and his assistant, Zhubaal,entered.“My lord, Mariella is here.”
“It’s about fucking time,” he snarled.“Send her in.”
The tall, elegant brunette swept into his office, her purplevelvet robes swishing around her high-heeled, jewel-encrusted shoes, hercinnamon wings extended and puffed up, as if she expected a fight.
It wasn’t as if a fight would be completely unprecedented.
Azagoth despised angels.Most of them, anyway.But the worstof the very worst were those who lookeddown their heavenlynosesat him.Oh, they respected his power and his position, but on apersonal level, they thought he was scum.
Mariella, in particular, thoughthewas a supreme lowlife, and she had for the entire three centuries in whichshe’d been his primary Heavenly liaison.
Hehatedher.
He glared as she launched into a tirade, lecturing him abouthis duties that related to Memitim.Thing was, she’d never been Memitim, wasn’ton the Council, and she didn’t even work in the embassy.She should belecturinghim about anythingbutMemitim.
“In summary,” she said, “you are out of luck.”
For the millionth time he thought about tossing her into thetunnel behind the wall panel and sending her to play with millions of demonsouls.Just five minutes in the Inner Sanctum would wipe that smug look off herface.But it wouldn’t get him what he wanted.
“I’m not asking for the Memitim program to end,” he grittedout.“I’m asking for some changes.”
“No.”
“Dammit, let me speak to someone on the fucking council.”
“Azagoth, you agreed to this thousands of years ago.Yousigned a contract in blood.And now, with fewer Memitim than ever, it’s evenmore crucial that the rules be strictly followed.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he snapped.“There’s no shortage ofMemitim.”
“You have stopped fathering them, have you not?”
Stupid question, because she knew the damned answer.“Youknow I did, a couple of years ago when I took Lilliana as my mate.But that’shardly enough time for Memitim numbers to suffer.”
She shook her head.“Production started going down centuriesago,” she said, making it sound like Azagoth had been putting his childrentogether on an assembly line.“We used to get seventy-two Memitim from you peryear.But even as the human population exploded and increased the need forguardians, you slowed down.Started refusing the females sent to you.You usedto be so...prolific.”
That was because he used to believe in the cause.And he’dbeen young, dumb, and horny.Oh, and evil.Very evil.Then, sometime around theIndustrial Revolution, he’d begun to grow bitter and angry.Rebellious.And ithad been extremely satisfying to refuse the angels sent to his bed.
Still, he’d always left Memitim business to the MemitimCouncil.Until recently.Recently...he’dmatedLilliana.He’d filled his realm with his offspring and had gotten to know them.He’d also lost some who had died in battle protecting their Primori.And justthis year, three others, mere children,had losttheirlives growing up in horrible human conditions.
Oh, yeah, it was time for some shit to change, and he wasdone being civil.
“Listen to me,” he snarled as he backed her against thedoorhe was going to toss her out of.“On some items thereis room for negotiation.Then there are the things Idemand.Nonegotiating on those.”
“Like plucking your juvenile offspring out of the humanworld and bringing them to you?Or taking your daughter Suzanne out of theMemitim program?”
“Yes, and yes.My children should grow up here, and Suzanne,despite being assigned a Primori, isn’t suited for this life.”
“That’s for the Memitim Council to decide.Not you.”
Murderous desire made his fangs throb for a taste of angelblood.“She’smy daughter!”
