I felt a little woozy as the blood drained from my head. My mouth was so dry I could barely speak. You snapped your fingers and ordered one of the soldiers to fetch a glass of water.
“You’re going to kill me?” I didn’t want to believe it.
You stared at me, unblinking. Your lack of denial confirmed it.
“What if I say no?” I asked, testing your belief in Azrael. To me, he sounded like a real dickhead with his fucked-up predictions and half-ass attempt at “mercy.”
“I’d like to say that I would accept your decision.” You wouldn’t look at me, ashamed.
“But you’d be lying.”
You nodded, almost imperceptibly. So, that was it. In a way it made everything so much simpler. There was no negotiation to be had. No begging or bargaining. I was going to die. Soon. By your hand. That fucking prophecy would be fulfilled. And our spirits…
A soldier arrived with a glass of water and I drank the whole thing down in one go. I was thirsty, but even more than that, I needed a minute to think.
“This Azrael character, you trust what he says?”
“With all of my being,” you said emphatically.
All I could think was that I should have been scrying for him all this time and not your mother.
“How would we be reunited? Our spirits?”
“When you are reborn…” you said, only you didn’t finish.
“When I am reborn…” I prompted. “What?”
“It would be better for you, Orlando, if I didn’t try to find you. If I let you have a chance at a normal, human life.”
I glared at you. Somehow that pissed me off more than anything else.
“Really?” I asked hotly. “You really want to rehash that argument? After all this?”
“Look at it from my perspective,” you begged. “I interfered in your life when I shouldn’t have. I brought you into this demonic world, and now I’m suggesting this… this murder. I’ve ruined your life, Orlando. I’ve stolen it from you. These are all selfish, depraved acts. You would have been better off without me.”
I shoved your chest. I was so mad I couldn’t see straight. You barely moved, further proving how powerless I was to stop you.
“Or I’d still be sucking Roger’s cock,” I spat. “Or dead on the street because of a meth-head. Or chained up by my sadistic teacher. You can’t know what could have been. You’re not a fucking fortune teller. If you were, we wouldn’t be in this hopeless situation right now.”
My outburst was followed by a long stretch of silence. You looked utterly destroyed.
“If there was one last gift I could give to you, it would be to promise I’ll never interfere in your life again.” You lowered your gaze and fell into a gloom. You acted like you were the one with less than twenty-four hours to live.
I sat there on the bed and examined my options. I thought of Joan of Arc in that lonely prison cell awaiting her fiery death. Did she call for the archangel Michael, only to be ignored? Or did he visit her and cut her a similar deal? Did he promise to disappear from her future lives as though that were the answer to her prayers? Did she accept?
I’d played my hand when I called for your mother, but miraculously I still had a few cards left.
“The only way I’ll go quietly is if you promise to find me in my next life.”
I said it and I meant it. I would put up a fight. I’d make you change your mind, or I’d force you to unleash the demon inside that you feared so much.
“I could seduce you into submission,” you said.
“You could strike me down with your sword right now,” I challenged. We both knew it wasn’t about you having power over me. You’d always been stronger, faster, and much wiser. We worked because I was willing to submit to you. More than willing. “I’ve given you my trust, faith, and loyalty,” I said. “Don’t I deserve the same?”
“Orlando,” you said sorrowfully.
I crossed the room and picked up your dagger, the one that had spilled so much blood just the night before. It was clean now, and even the grooves of the engravings were spotless. I turned it over in my palm. It seemed so harmless when it wasn’t possessed by a killer.
