Divine Descent

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I thought I'd already lived the worst parts of my life.

I couldn't see how it could get much worse than burning alive while the man you love does as well, except you don't die. You just feel like you've died. That one seemed to top the tiered cake for pretty traumatizing moments.

There are other contenders, of course. Some very recent.

However, nothing—nothing—compares to this.

The sight of the devil incarnate, in his element of unstable viciousness, inching towards a vampire that can be easily killed. Death wouldn't be the end. It would just be a stepping stone into a larger scale of torment.

When Elijah was a human, dying of The Plague, he was persuaded to give himself to the darkness for a purpose that was unbeknownst to him then, a purpose that would lead me to his doorstep. On the brink of death and without a soul left to mourn him, he had nothing to lose. Except the very freedom of his soul.

The monster he offered himself to stands before him now, knowing he holds all the cards.

Still, Elijah doesn't waver when Samael nears him, circles him like a vulture.

"You are young," Samael observes, carrying himself stiffly. It seems to bother him, how physically ageless Elijah became in his prime. Twenty-nine forever. Muscular and agile. Tall and almost unnaturally handsome. It must curdle his blood to think that someone younger and more righteous has my heart. "Twenty-nine."

"Physically."

"Ah, yes. That's right. You've inhabited this planet for how long now?"

"I'm seven-hundred and one."

Samael smiles, but it's dead. There's no life to it. "She seems to lean towards older men, doesn't she? There were a slew of them before you."

Elijah's wide back ripples when his stance turns rigid. Before he can react and get himself killed, I plant my hand on his shoulder, looking past him to Samael, who knows exactly what he's doing.

He knows deep embedded into the formula of Elijah's existence is his need to protect.

"We had a deal. You broke it," I growl hoarsely.

"I did no such thing. You just did."

I pass Elijah, wide-eyed with fury. "You sent Angelica to kill him. You lied about how long I'd been away. It's been six goddamn months!"

"I didn't order Angelica here. I worked on her for a month, made her believe she could actually hold any real value in my life, and informed her that I had a problem. She was eager to help."

My teeth grit violently. "Your intentions were there. You wanted him dead. Our deal was that you wouldn't harm him or anyone else I care for. Even if you didn't do it, even if you didn't carry out the order, you were plotting to hurt him."

"That's true, but you see... it isn't the same thing."

"Yes, it is."

"If it were Cassandra, the world wouldn't be dark right now."

"You don't have power over Jehovah. You don't control the light, Samael simply because you want to play a betting game. He wouldn't let you rearrange everything for this."

Samael smirks. "He did, actually."

Appalled, I back up, forbidding letting him glimpse the sudden fear that's slithered through me. Elijah's hands grasp my arms, a darkening presence at my back.

"You took the bait, Cassandra," Samael taunts, the white stripes nestled in his dark hair gleaming as he moves under the lamp lights towards me. "You killed my closest advisor and a guard to get to him, and those unnecessary losses have particularly peeved me. I'm tired of the games, and the pretense. In accordance to our deal, you've forfeited your freedom and will return with me."