Samael smiled ruefully, looking at the brown liquid inside his cup. He gave it to me. “It's ginger- try it. I find it particularly soothing.”
I did. Then promptly spat it back out.
He sighed disapprovingly. “Maggot, maggot, what shall I do with you?” He snatched the cup from me. “But in answer to your question: Metatron forced me to adopt this habit long ago. He said a comforting routine would help quell my 'anger issues.' I had a- falling out, shall we say, once long ago, and various beings tried to institute methods that would help control my impulses. Several of which were unpleasant, some of which succeeded, and I suffer for to this day. Raphael's insistence on a smooth jazz hour was particularly excruciating. I loathe that genre,” he said bitingly. “It drove me mad, and failed utterly.”
I gawked. “Tha
The waves trembled, rearing up like stallions. They thrashed against the rock. The ground beneath my feet hummed. My heart soared with the song, mesmerized by the raw power. The air itself sang- the music of the spheres.My eyes stung with tears, and a beauty so deep shattered me. It was as if lightning raced down my spine.Michael was singing. It was the voice of an angel in song.“I suppose I'll join in, then,” Samael said under his breath. He raised his arms; shadows enveloped him. A howling wind appeared, and six pairs of wings materialized on his back. He flexed the black pinions, draping them across him so he was veiled in darkness.I would have made a smart comment about how he looked like a burnt bird. A blinding light suffused him, and Samael's wretchedly beautiful voice boomed across the waters. I understood why he'd cloaked himself in wing a
“How about I serve your white meat ass on a platter?” Raphael joshed, punching Samael in the arm.Samael smirked. “I doubt anyone would want it…”Gabriel stuck out his tongue in revulsion. He turned to me, whispering. I’d rather slow dance with Cerberus than get a taste of Boniface. Raphael probably has, though, considering their close companionship. What do humans call that again?“Bromance, Gabriel,” I whispered, watching in disbelief as Samael and Raphael duked it out over the phoenix wing. “So much for brotherly love.”Yes, bromance. Something angels are well aware of. Now, to properly meet you. Gabriel flitted over, smiling charmingly. I blushed, nearly blinded by his beauty. The angels, once more, were oblivious. His eyes danced with stars. He extended his hand like a gentleman, bowing.
“Existence. What necessitates existence?”“I don't know? Atoms, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, water.”“Belief. Belief creates existence.”“No it doesn't. Things just are. I didn't believe rocks into existence.”“No, but someone did.”“Who? The rock god?”“Maybe. I don't know. But we're obviously someone's idea.”“Whose?”“God's. Perhaps an author's, or playwrights'. At the end, it's all just a dream.”“But who's God?”“Don't know. I know lots of gods. No God. I had a Father, once,” his face grew sorrowful. “But he left long ago.”I didn't press further. “Do you believe in God, Gabriel?” I asked quietly.“Of course I do.”&ldqu
“Through deception, snake. It's hard to walk the righteous path when you slither past our heels.”“Biting heels is my specialty, twin,” Samael hissed, pupils becoming slits.“And trampling serpents is mine.”“Brothers, desist,” Metatron said firmly. “This is a place of welcome. No man or king rules here.”“I'd like to think that,” Samael said cryptically. Come to think of it, the whole conversation was rather cryptic. I really had no idea what was going on.“Maggot,” Samael spat, “get out from behind the rubble. Make yourself presentable. And Gabriel: stand aside.”Gabriel laughed blithely. “Spouting orders, are you now? Don't overstep your bounds, Boniface.” He swooped down from the pillar, then bowed in jest. “Please, brother- don't let m
“Enough. I'm done being your punching bag.” He rose and caught me as he rocketed upwards. The land healed below us, stone creaking back in place as if nothing had happened. He set me down gingerly.“Sniffling isn't threatening, Callie.”I gave him a withering glance. He dusted debris from my shoulder. I realized hazily that I was still in my track suit, feeling incredibly under-dressed. Samael's eyes lit up in comprehension.“I can fix that,” he said sagely.“I didn't ask for-”He snapped his fingers. Aghast, I found my worn sweatpants and Under Armour replaced by a Playboy bunny suit. Samael sported a Hugh Hefner-esque bathrobe and silken black pajamas. He grinned sleazily.“Are you kidding me?” I said flatly.“There,” he said proudly. “Now you're intimidating. Even angels f
“I'll take a double shot of Dark Chocolate Mint drizzled in fudge and the leggy blonde in the back.”I kicked Samael in the heel. He caught my foot between his shoes. Slick as snake oil, he grinned at the cashier. A pimply twenty-something, she stared at Samael dreamily, then rang up the order wrong.“Whatever you want, sir,” she said breathily. “I'll give you whatever you need.”Samael stroked my hair idly, and I felt evermore like his illegally purchased lap dog. “What do you want, maggot?” He leaned over, whispering into my ear. “Something that melts on your tongue?”I retched.He shrugged, withdrawing to the waiting line. His hand lingered at the small of my back.I grimaced, turning to meet the cashier. Samael's spell over her ceased. She plastered me with a bovine stare. “Your
“Aaagh! Why are immortals so frigging complicated?”“Would you rather we fit neatly into little mortal boxes?” He spoke in a falsetto: “Hello, boys and girls! My name's Satan! I'm the Prince of Darkness and Evil Incarnate. That nice old man over there with a white beard is God. He's your Father, and if you don't believe in him, you'll burn in Hell forever. I'll torture you and roast you up good until your flesh melts on my teeth. Doesn't that sound wonderful? And look over there, at that dead man on a cross- it's Jesus. His Father killed him so he could die for your sins.”“What's a sin, Jimmy? Why, you're all born filthy little brats with Sin inside of you like an STD, passed on through sex from the Original Stinking Sin. And no matter how much you bathe, that Sin never goes away, not until you accept Jesus into your hearts. Come, children, kne
Eva and I were sprawled across the couch, eyes glued to the television. A heart-wrenching Lifetime movie was playing. I dug my fingers into the cushion.“Oh no,” I whispered.“Por Dios, no!”“She's pregnant, Eva. They've already dragged her through child abuse, an alcoholic father, and depression. These screenwriters are sadists.” We munched on popcorn for comfort.“Look,” Eva whispered. “She's getting her papa's gun.”“No!” I yelled. “Don't do it, Amanda! Think of your child! You and Jimmy still have a future together.”My brother called from the basement. “Shannon, are you watching Lifetime?” He raced upstairs, planting himself on the floor. “Hey,” he said, winking at Eva. She scoffed. Mo shrugged. He turne