Well, that set me off, and I grinned roguishly. “We’re already well acquainted. And any word I might have to say about Xavier would beextremelycomplimentary.”
Santiago’s fists clenched together, and his eyes widened with rage. Probably not my best idea to provoke him right before I was to use his services as a medium, but I was capable of making very unwise decisions.
“Azrael is arriving. We’ll finish this later,” he snapped and sat down at the wooden table.
Soon after, his disposition changed entirely, signifying Azrael’s presence. I greeted my master with a low bow, and after our customary introduction, fell silent. I sensed Azrael’s displeasure in the energy that surrounded me—brittle and cold, like shards of glass aimed in my direction.
“May I inquire as to the nature of this summons?” I asked with what I hoped was a deferential tone.
“The Potestas have been made aware of your union with the human dancer.”
My throat constricted. Nothing good could come of that.
“Is it true?” Azrael asked. “Do you have a human companion who goes by the name of Orlando Bell?”
I nodded. “Yes, it is true.” There was no use in lying to Azrael or the Potestas. They weren’t like demons, who reveled in deception and might show mercy if they were bested with cunning. Angels of Azrael’s order despised untruths and would punish me ten times worse for even attempting it.
“And are you keeping a regular host?” Azrael asked, announcing my second offense.
The proof was sitting right there before him, which he must have already known, or at least suspected, to pose the question.
“Yes, that is also true.”
“Is this in order to grow closer to the human?”
I didn’t care for him referring to you as “the human,” but it would be better if he forgot your name altogether. Unfortunately, angels forget nothing.
“Yes, it is.”
“And you did these two things, knowing it was a breach of our contract?”
“Yes, I did.” I hoped he would ask for my motives. I wanted to make the case for why I deserved your companionship. Hadn’t I suffered enough? Served more than competently in a job that was at best, drudgery, and at worst, debilitating?
“Why did you not seek our blessing?” Azrael asked. Even after all these years, he still had the ability to make my bowels quake with feelings of guilt and shame.
“If you did not bless the union, I feared I wouldn’t have the willpower to abstain,” I said honestly.
“And now that we have discovered your transgressions?”
“I would beg your forgiveness and ask for your blessing.” I kneeled before Santiago’s body and bowed until my nose kissed the cement.
There was a long pause, and I waited in capitulation while Azrael consulted the Potestas. The silence stretched on while my knees ached and my nerves began to fray, until my fate, and yours by extension, was decided.
“Rise, Henri, and take your seat.”
I did as instructed. It wasn’t long before Azrael spoke again.
“We do not bless this union,” he said, and though I wasn’t surprised by their verdict, I was no less devastated.
“May I ask why?”
“You may, but I think you already know the answer.”
“My mother.” She was my alpha and omega.
“She will use this union to corrupt you into turning against us and executing the missives of the Grigori.”
I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. “I’d never allow it,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.
