Asmodeus(24)

It wasn't Jorian who haunted his dreams. It was Bael. Bael had never turned, but Michael had enforced the command that all children made by demons be killed, whether they had turned or not. Asmodeus had been forced to end Bael's life. He'd tried telling himself Bael would have turned into one of those monsters, but that conclusion had never settled in his heart or given him peace.



The vision reminded him of his mission. He was going to kill the bastard who hid behind a façade of righteousness. He was going to do to him what he had been forced to do to his sons so many years before.



He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. He stepped closer to Brianna, fury causing his vision to blur. "Summon him."



She jumped, the dagger falling from her lap. For a fleeting second he saw his wife's face the day he had been taken to the Abyss. The paralyzing fear that had crossed her features as he had completed his duty and been taken away by Michael. It was the last time he had seen her. He never knew what fate had befallen her. How she had responded to her husband killing their children.



She hadn't suffered long. The Flood had ensured that.



He lowered his sword and turned away. Conflicting emotions tore him between duty and honor. He did not want to hurt someone again. He did not want to lower himself to Michael's level.



Damn it all. How else could he avenge all those who had perished those many years before? All the souls who had been thrown into the Abyss? Michael held the key to the Abyss, still, after all these years. And where had the souls of the children gone? The Nephilim? Would he ever know?



Why did the faces of the fallen still haunt him so?



Because he was the reason for the fall. He was the reason the Nephilim had been created. Because of his dream of love and acceptance on the earth, his compelling argument on how the angels could really live if they were only given the chance. He had convinced the angels a fall would lead them to fulfillment.



The fall had only led to pain and death.



Indecision, such as he faced now, had never been a part of his vision. He had made it through the Abyss with two things in mind—escape and Michael's demise. He had never considered what it would take to accomplish those goals, and in truth he had never cared. He had always used whatever means necessary to achieve the end result.

He was no better than Michael.



That realization crept up his spine with cold accuracy. He turned back to face Brianna. She sat in fear, awaiting his next move. Her eyes were round, her knuckles white as they grasped the book.



How had he repaid her for releasing him from that hell? He had taken her from her home and kept her against her will. He had hunted her down when she had tried to escape, threatening her into submission.



He reached a decision. He would deal with Michael on his own. This was his battle, his personal vendetta. He couldn't expect her to do any more than she already had.



"You are free to leave." He let the sword evaporate from his grip, just as he wished the pain of the past would disappear. He doubted it ever would.



"Leave?"



"All I ask is that you call me should you have any trouble in regards to your summoning me." He took the book from her hands. He wouldn't take her dagger. It belonged to her, therefore it was not his to take. Picking it up off the floor, he handed it to her. "You have Naberius's number. He programmed it into your phone. Your keys are in the hallway on the table by the front door, along with your phone."



"I—"



"Thank you, Brianna." He left her sitting in the library as he took the spell book to his temporary room, leaving quickly so his emotions could not take over his actions. He couldn't explain why, but he felt her departure even though she still sat in bewilderment, his chest cold and empty. Brianna was a good woman. More the reason to send her away. Everything he touched he ended up corrupting. His fellow angels, his wife, his sons.



He would not allow himself to hurt another person. The farther Brianna was from him, the better.





Brianna sat in the plush chair, eyes locked on the open door Asmodeus had just walked through.



Now what? His sudden change sure put a kink in her mission. How could she gain his trust if he forced her to leave? How could she not garner suspicion if she asked to stay?



She pushed herself out of the chair and left the library, dagger in hand. She had to calm her nerves and figure out the best course of action. Being threatened with the Abyss by angels of death wasn't exactly the highlight of her life, but she had to concentrate on a way out of this mess. Basically it came down to her or Asmodeus, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was going to pick herself.



She stopped at the top of the stairs, trying to calm her nerves long enough to form a coherent thought. She had to figure out what she should do first to keep her ass out of the Abyss.