I believe, truly believe, that we are permitted to exist only at his sufferance, and because it does, as you say, amuse him to watch us.
“If that’s the case, then Beezle’s probably right—”
“I usually am.”
“—and Focalor probably will send someone to kill me.”
J.B. looked troubled. “Should I assign a team to you for protection?”
I shook my head. “I can handle whatever Focalor’s got.”
And I don’t want any more blood on my hands than I have already, I thought. Most Agents, even highly trained ones, were not even remotely prepared for the kinds of horrors that lurked in a demon court.
“Make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” J.B. said to Gabriel, and they shared a long look.
“Why is it that when you two decide to be manly men you act like I’m not in the room?” I said crossly. “Come on, I’m sure we need to feed Beezle something healthy.”
“Carrot cake has carrots in it,” Beezle said hopefully.
“Yeah, and cream cheese frosting has calcium, too, I suppose,” I replied.
“I think the food pyramid is really about interpretation,” Beezle said.
We retrieved our weapons from security and went out onto the roof. Amarantha was missing, thank goodness.
“I forgot to apologize to J.B. for setting his mother on him full-time. He can’t be happy about that,” I said as we took flight. It was starting to snow lightly—like we needed more snow. It had taken me, Gabriel and Samiel hours to shovel the walk and the gangway.
Samiel tapped my shoulder. Do you think that Amarantha would try to stay in touch with her cohorts, even though she’s a ghost? We still don’t know who the third party is, the one who provided the technology to extract memories.
“You think we should track her?” I asked, intrigued. “That’s a good idea. She may try to get in touch with Focalor or with this other character. I’ll ask J.B. about it. We can probably take turns keeping an eye on her.”
“I wonder what happened to Violet?” Beezle said.
I shrugged. “She must have chosen the Door. Otherwise she’d be hanging around Amarantha, I’m sure.”
Beezle climbed inside my (dry-cleaned) jacket for warmth. I wiped snow out of my eyes, thinking it would be a good idea to get some goggles for this time of year. We landed in the front yard, shaking snow out of our hair.
Samiel scooped up a snowball and threw it at Gabriel’s face.
My exceedingly dour husband gave his half brother the evil eye. It was slightly less effective with snow and ice dripping off the end of his nose.
Samiel gave Gabriel a taunting look and scooped up another handful of snow. Gabriel raised his eyebrow at Samiel but made no move to defend himself. Samiel tossed the snowball toward him and Gabriel blasted it out of the air with nightfire so that it backfired all over Samiel.
“That’s not conspicuous or anything,” Beezle said, peeking out of my jacket.
“Yeah, guys,” I said, laughing at the outraged expression on Samiel’s face. “No magic…”
Samiel threw a bolt of nightfire at Gabriel’s feet and made the snow fly up underneath Gabriel’s overcoat. Gabriel narrowed his eyes.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “Whatever you’re thinking, I don’t think it’s a good…”
Gabriel sent out a bunch of tiny nightfire pulses, almost like an automatic weapon. They surrounded Samiel’s feet and sent high shooting sprays of snow and ice onto his face and coat.
Samiel must have decided that it wasn’t worth it to try to beat Gabriel magically, so he dove for his brother and tackled him. Gabriel landed on his back in the snow and Samiel smashed a handful of it in Gabriel’s face.
I was now laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
“You think this is funny, do you?” Gabriel said menacingly.
Samiel turned and gave me an appraising look.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said, holding my hands up and backing toward the porch.
Gabriel rolled lightly to his feet and stalked toward me.
Beezle flew out of my jacket. “I’m not playing this game.”
Samiel snatched Beezle by the ankle out of the air and buried him in a pile of snow. Beezle came out spluttering and glaring.
“That’s it, nephilim boy,” Beezle snarled.
Bring it on, gargoyle.
I turned to run up the porch steps as Gabriel reached me. He grabbed me around the waist as I laughed and screamed. “No, don’t, no, don’t!”
He tossed me into the snow face-first and I got a mouthful. I rolled over as he landed on top of me.
“Well, this is nice,” I said, and kissed him.
I vaguely heard the sounds of Beezle and Samiel’s continued battle.
“We should go inside and leave them to it,” Gabriel murmured.
“Good idea,” I said.
Then a familiar voice broke into our reverie.
“Gabriel ap Ramuell, you are under arrest for defiling my daughter.”
Gabriel lifted his head, a shocked expression on his face. I twisted around in the snow.
Azazel and two of his flunkies stood in the front walk. Samiel and Beezle were frozen in place, staring.
“Let me up,” I said to Gabriel urgently.
He stood, pulling me to my feet.
“Get off my property,” I said to Azazel.
“I am here to take this thrall into custody so that he can be tried before the court of the Grigori for his crimes,” Azazel said coldly.
“Not this again,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You’re not taking him. He’s not a thrall anymore and he’s not defiling me—at least, not against my will.”
Beezle snorted.
“I have had quite enough of your insolence, daughter,” Azazel said. He waved to the two foot soldiers that stood behind him. “Take him.”
I pulled Lucifer’s sword from its sheath. “If you take one more step toward my husband, I will make sure you don’t leave here with all your limbs.”
They stopped, uncertain, and looked at Azazel.
“You cannot defy the will of the Grigori!” Azazel shouted.
“And you cannot defy the will of your lord,” I replied steadily, keeping my eyes on the two flunkies. “Lucifer freed him, Lucifer married us, Lucifer is not going to be happy that you’re still annoying me about this.”
“You are my daughter. It is my will you obey. I have betrothed you to Nathaniel ap Zerachiel, and you will marry him. The thrall will be killed for his insolence,” Azazel said. “I will take him myself if I have to.”
“No…you…will…not,” I said, and I felt the power of the Morningstar flowing through me.
I was putting on another light show for the benefit of my normal neighbors. One of these days video of me acting like a freak was going to wind up on the Internet, and then the government would be knocking at my door asking if they could use me as a weapon. I wondered if Lucifer would help me then, or if it would suit him to see me get carried away to some top-secret bunker.
“For the last time, I am your father.”
“In name only,” I spat.
“In the only way that matters. You will do as I say, or you will be punished.”
“No,” I said.
One of the foot soldiers made a sudden move toward me, but I was ready for him. I kept my right hand on the sword, and with my left I blasted him with regular fire. His designer trench was set ablaze immediately and he ran screaming for the nearest snowbank.