“Liar,” I shouted, my temper flaring.
You placed a calming hand on my forearm. “Henri, let me.”
I grumbled as you unbuttoned Maxwell’s shirt and placed your palm against his pectoral. “Vincent, is that really necessary?” There was no guarantee Seneser wasn’t harboring some other hidden capability or weapon.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” you said politely. “My name is Vincent.”
“I know you already.” Seneser said. “Everyone knows you. OurParousia.”
He said the word with awe. And perhaps also, disbelief. Our kind had been hanging our hopes on a whispered rumor for so long that it was natural to be wary. You appeared unfazed by the mention of the prophecy, but Lucian cast me a surreptitious look.
“Where is my mother, Seneser?” you said longingly. “I’d really like to know.”
Your voice was like honey dripping off the comb, and even Lucian seemed lulled into complacency by your abilities. I came closer to better defend you if need be, as did Lucian, because he wanted to know the demon’s secrets.
“Your mother is being kept in an abandoned mine not far from here,” Seneser said. His face relaxed and his eyes glazed over as your thrall took hold.
“Do you know which one?” You were already excited at the prospect.
“I don’t know the name of it, but I could find it for you.”
“How did you know we were here?” I asked Lucian suspiciously.
“I have an informant in Miami who said you make regular trips to Las Vegas, and I’d heard rumors that a Belial demon you’d been hunting had turned up.”
I didn’t know who I trusted less, the slippery demon or our brother.
“They could be lying, Vincent. Both of them.”
“I’m not the liar,” Seneser said, appealing to you with an earnest expression. “His master is the liar.”
“Tell me more, Seneser,” you cooed, making sure the demon’s gaze stayed riveted on yours. “Tell me what Azrael has done.”
“Azrael ordered his lover murdered,” Seneser said on a sorrowful note. I’d rather him spit fury than fake pity on my behalf.
“Orlando?” you asked.
“No. The slave boy.”
I froze. He must mean Lior. The room tilted for a moment, and even your visage blurred before me as bittersweet memories of my first love swam in my head, overwhelming my good sense.
“Who’s that?” you asked Seneser, oblivious to my internal struggle.
“Andronicus’s concubine,” he answered. “His handsome war trophy.”
Lior was neither of those things. My defenses went up like a fortress. You shot me a questioning look.
“Where is your proof?” I demanded. Your seduction faltered as Seneser’s eyes snapped open in alarm.
“What?” he asked, confused.
With two fingers, Lucian directed Seneser’s gaze back toward you. You took a moment to soothe the demon with murmurs that fell like a lover’s soft caress. Your energy was waning, and I didn’t want you to exhaust yourself. If what Seneser said was true, even a little bit, I owed it to my departed to know it. When the demon was under your influence again, he resumed his story.
“I was with Azrael and Lena when we visited Andronicus on the Balkan Peninsula, where Azrael told Andronicus that he must unite the Germanic tribes under Roman rule. It was his fate. The seers had foretold it.”
I’d been promised sovereignty over my countrymen and everlasting glory among the gods. Lena and Azrael were there, certainly, and two other divine beings, but their names were not given to me, and they’d been inhabiting human forms at the time.
“What does this matter?” I asked, not wishing to reexamine my past transgressions.
