“And you made creepy little skittery things?”
“Not...exactly. My design used imps and gentle Huldrefox demons as a base, combined with a species of demon that can see ghosts. Satan took out the Huldrefox and threw in extra imp. Now I have a bunch of Oompa Loompas with the intelligence of doorknobs.” He shrugged as if trying to dismiss the almost undetectable fond note in his voice. “They’re loyal little guys, though.”
He kept walking, but she slowed him down several times to ogle the priceless weapons and art on his walls. He had tapestries and paintings believed lost to the ages, and weapons wielded by legends and kings. She wasn’t sure how long it took them to get to the huge antechamber she’d walked through when she’d first entered the building, but as he explained some of the demon artwork, she only half-listened as she kept her eyes peeled for his chronoglass.
Disappointed that it was nowhere in the room, she followed him outside, with its blackened landscape and gray sky.
He looked out at the buildings surrounding his giant manor. “You can explore those at your leisure. Most of them are empty shells.”
She eyed a pulsing vine hanging off one of the rooftops and made a note to avoid the native flora. She’d battled a lot of demons in her life, but she’d never spent enough time in Sheoul to get to know how creepy—or lethal—the vegetation was.
“Why are the buildings here, if they’re unused?” she asked him.
A shadow darkened the emerald light in his eyes before disappearing a heartbeat later. “As humans built up their cities, I added buildings to match.”
Okay, so that wasn’t really an explanation, but she got the sense that if she asked for more, he wouldn’t give it to her. “Why is everything here so...filthy?”
He dragged a fingernail down the surface of a pillar, leaving behind a thin line of white stone. “Sheoul-gra’s soul is tied to mine. As I succumb to the malevolence that seeps out of Hell, so do the buildings.”
So this was what thousands of years of demon-grade sewer leakage would do to a realm. No wonder there were angels employed full time to patch cracks between the human and demon realms. She could only wonder about the extent to which miniscule doses affected humans. But Azagoth had been exposed for thousands of years.
“When you first built this place, everything was white?”
He nodded. “And green. There used to be grass here. Trees. Flowers. Animals. Everything died over time.”
She studied his profile, looking for any hint of emotion, but his face might as well have been carved from the same stone used to erect the buildings.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It must have been hard to see the realm you created waste away like that.”
His expression hardened even more. “I made my choice.” He spun on his heel and headed back inside.
Making a mental note that his realm’s demise was a sore subject, she caught up to him as he strode inside the most amazing room yet.
It was a huge, cozy library with floor-to-ceiling shelves of books. A grand fire burned against one wall, and in front of it, a weathered leather sofa was angled so a person could lounge against the pillows and read by the light of the flames. In the center of the room was a recliner, and next to the chair was the object she’d been looking for.
She tried not to stare, but she’d never seen a double-sided version before.
“It’s a chronoglass,” Azagoth said, and she decided to keep the truth of what she knew close to the vest.
“It’s amazing,” she said truthfully. Framed by a gold rim, the pane of smoky mirrored glass stood at least ten feet tall and four feet wide, easily a third larger than either of the chronoglasses in Heaven. “Can you time travel?” Raphael had indicated that he couldn’t, but she’d rather hear it from Azagoth himself.
“No.”
“Then what do you do with it?”
“I use it to see what’s going on in the world.” In three graceful strides he moved in front of it. Instantly, the smoky color gave way to a clear view of the bustling streets of Paris.
Evidence of the recent near-apocalypse was visible in the scorch and pock marks on the sides of buildings and on the sidewalks, as well as the broken windows and twisted metal streetlamps and bike racks. But the signs of recovery were there too, in the open shop doors, speeding cars, and even a few tourists.
“But how do you choose the time period you want to see?” she asked.
“I can’t.” He reached out, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he traced a finger over a street sign. “I can only see what’s current. Only those with time travel ability can choose to see events from the past.”
“Can you at least choose the location?”
“That,” he said, “I can do.” He gestured to an odd black ball sitting on top of a stone stand. “It’s sort of a mystical remote control.”
She moved toward the ball, fascinated by this new discovery. She’d never heard of anyone using a chronoglass for anything but traveling through time. “How did you get all of this?”
“I made a deal with a fallen angel named Harvester. This was the first half of what she owes me.”
Harvester, daughter of Satan? Wow. Her name had become household in the last few months. As the only fallen angel in history who had not only been restored to full angel status, but who had mated the most powerful angel in existence to become stepmother to the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, she was a rock star in Heaven. It was rumored that she still had to fight evil impulses, but according to most, that only made her an even better choice to be the Horsemen’s Heavenly Watcher.
She skimmed her fingers over the chronoglass’s shiny surface. “You do know that Harvester is a fully restored angel now, right?”
He tilted his chin in acknowledgement. “I’m aware.”
Of course he was. For being trapped in isolation, he seemed to be well connected. “Were you also aware that she’s mated to an angel named Reaver, who was recently promoted to Radiant status?”
His wry smile said he knew even more than that. “Of course. Were you aware that Reaver has an evil twin named Revenant, who was also raised to the Sheoulic equivalent of a Radiant?”
“He’s a Shadow Angel?” she asked, stunned at the news. She’d known that Revenant was the Horsemen’s evil Watcher, but she had no idea he was Reaver’s brother—or that he was so damned powerful.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s been thousands of years since either Heaven or Sheoul had seen angels of their status.” His smile turned malevolent. “Which means something big is about to happen. Just wait. It’s coming.”
At a tap on the door, they both looked up to see Zhubaal enter. “You have a visitor, my lord.”
“Show him to my office,” Azagoth said. As the fallen angel slipped away, Azagoth turned to her. “Feel free to explore my realm. No sentient being will harm you, but be wary of the plant life.”
“It would be helpful if I had powers,” she muttered.
In a surprising move that took her breath away, he was suddenly in front of her. Towering. Menacing. His aura practically dripped with a dark, magnetic energy that tugged her toward him. She actually took a teetering step forward.
His hand came up to cup her cheek in an astonishingly tender touch. Her pulse pounded in an erratic rattle through her veins, and desire spiked. How he could do that to her, she had no idea. She should have been immune to the charms of an arrogant, bossy male, given her experience with Hutriel.
Quickly, she banished her ex’s name from her mind. He wasn’t welcome here. She had enough to deal with already.