I launch into a descent, cloaking every bit of my being in raven-black feathers, landing on the street below with a harrowing squawk from my jet-black beak. The Seraphim is dead. Its lifeless body lies discarded in the street, disguised as a townsperson so the humans don’t see the unnatural wings jutting out from it, half-curled and stilled by death. Mercy is nowhere in sight. Could she be hurt? Was the hunter here? Did the snatchers carry her away? How did they kill a creature of the Divine? It’s more powerful than anything else they have sent to our realm. My mind suddenly stills, all my thoughts emptying out, replaced by one single command.
“Come to me.”
My disguise falls away as I clutch my head. Lucifer is summoning me. The Seraphim's soul is stuck in the portal between realms. I can’t ignore his call, but I need to know Mercy is safe. And this body… it could be useful to secure theinformation I need from Madame Zora. I force myself to stand, brushing off and doing my best to ignore the summons.
There’s no other choice. I have to stash the body and come back. A second demand hammers through my body. I feel compelled to burst into mist and appear before Lucifer. It takes every ounce of power and concentration to fight the urge. There’s no way I can withstand a third request. Scooping up the body, I stumble into the alley, discarding it in a broken wooden crate and piling other bits of trash around to conceal it. I finish right as the third request echoes through me.
I vanish into nothing but smoke and wrath, swallowed by the shadows as I’m dragged to Lucifer’s realm. Hell.
The descent is over in an instant. Lucifer lounges before me, his hand strumming against his bone-carved throne. He looks at me with disdain.
“Well,” Lucifer drawls.
I don’t reply.
“Are you going to tell me why I had to summon you three times, Azrael?”
“I don’t have time for your childish games. A Seraphim soul passed through the barrier and has jammed an entrance in the mortal realm. I had to send in a special team to retrieve my prize. It has to be extracted and placed back into a secure location.” Hiswords are clipped with agitation as he drones on about the mild inconvenience.
I hardly care to listen, staring at him, eyes glazed over but focused on preparing for the lies I’m about to tell. I’m sure it looks like I’m not interested in the conversation in the slightest, but internally I’m mentally preparing every fiber of myself to tell a convincing lie. One doesn’t simply lie to him. Lucky for me, I learned as a child I possess the ability to conceal key portions of information undetected. It’s a skill I’m quite proud of.
“Bow before me, Azrael,” my master commands. “You’ve forgotten your place.”
He flicks his wrist. Against my will, my knee drops to the ground, my arms fall into place, and I tuck my chin to my chest. At my back, large luxurious black wings tuck against my shoulders, folding themselves into a submission I yearn to resist.
“I’ll ask you one more time, Azrael. Where were you, and why did you ignore my summons?” He draws out each syllable.
“To be fair, your grace, you didn’t exactly give me enough time between each one to wrap up what I was doing. You wouldn’t have had to ask so many times if you had a little more patience, ” I mutter, choking back a laugh.
“Azrael!” the Ringmaster snaps, suddenly appearing beside Lucifer’s throne.
Behind him, jagged obsidian juts toward the ceiling, polished to perfection and reflecting the twinkle of imprisoned stars overhead. His eyes narrow as he sets his jaw. Anyone else would tremble beneath that gaze. It only feeds my disobedience and complete disregard for the severity of the situation.
“Where were you?” The Ringmaster snarls, echoing Lucifer like the perfect little parrot he was trained to be.
It’s obvious my grandfather is still in his favor—otherwise, the heirs would all be gathered here. Magic dissipates. Its hold on my body no longer lingers. Lifting my head, my lips give a twitch, a slight hesitation—then lift into a grin.
“Maybe I was fucking.” I lift my brow in a challenge.
“Amusing,” the Ringmaster responds, unfazed by my behavior.
“Or maybe I was closing in on the hunter when I heard the shriek from the Seraphim and went in search of it.” I lie smoothly, the skill coming to me like breathing—like bleeding.
The seer of truth-seeking magic flares against my nerves, burning into me, searching for a weakness in the web I’m weaving. His gaze sharpens, boring into mine, but I’ve trained for this. Learned the art of false stillness in the presence of the King of Lies. My voice doesn’t waver. My heartbeat doesn’t flutter.
“Did you locate it?” Lucifer demands.
“I was trying to stash the body when you demanded my presence. I tried to get it out of sight so the humans wouldn’t dispose of it, but you summoned me with such force I apparated into Hell before I could. We’ll be lucky if it’s still where I left it once you’re finished wasting my time.” I’m careful to skate the lines between truth and lie, all the while remaining calm and in control.
Lucifer ignores my bitter reply, gleaming from it only what he finds useful. “If the body is recovered, you are to bring it to me here immediately. A Seraphim body is valuable; it could aid in our never-ending battle against the Divine. Glorified creatures,” he seethes.
I intentionally stop myself from responding, careful not to agree to anything—avoiding the magical binding properties any sort of deal with him might trigger.
Lucifer tilts his head, watching me with the cold amusement of a serpent coiling around its prey. Then he smiles. “It would be unfortunate if we’re not able to recover it.”
“Noted,” I reply, knowing I can’t avoid answering twice.
“Now, you mentioned you were tracking the hunter. I assume without the help of the Seraphim, you’ll locate the hunter and eliminate this problem that has taken far too long to extract. I’m disappointed, Azrael. It’s never taken you this long to complete an order.” He motions to dismiss me.
