Azagoth couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous about anything. After all, he ruled his own realm and was one of the most powerful beings in existence.
But the thought of seeing his daughter Idess and her son, his grandchild, made him twitchy, and it had for the last few months. Ever since the day he learned the details about her past.
He hadn’t been able to even look at Idess without thinking of how she’d grown up, and how desperate she was to protect her son from life’s ugliness. Because that was what a parent did.
You didn’t know.
No, for a long time he hadn’t known how she, or any of his children grew up. Their mothers had placed them with human parents, and he didn’t see them until they were fully grown, sometimes centuries later, more often never at all. A few had shared with him their experiences of life when they’d believed they were human, and their stories were horrific.
But Azagoth hadn’t felt pity. Or sorrow. Or guilt. Before Lilliana, he’d been as cold as an arctic stone. His offspring were tough, and they’d survived. Their pasts had hardened them, turned them into the warriors they needed to be.
No, he hadn’t cared at all about their misery.
Then Lilliana came along and shattered the layer of ice that had encased his heart. It had been incredible and life-giving, but now that he’d opened his realm to all his Memitim offspring, more and more of his children were showing up and telling him about their “human” lives. With few exceptions, just one, really, their stories were full of the kind of shit that gave people nightmares.
Idess’s story in particular had been a tale of horror, slavery, and abuse that made him want to go back in time and slaughter every fucker who had messed with his baby girl.
Lilliana could make that happen. As an angel with the ability to time-travel, she could help him get bloody revenge for all his children. But doing so would mess with incalculable timelines and would earn him a death sentence from God himself. His only consolation was that a handful of the scum who had made his children’s lives miserable were, in fact, imprisoned in the Inner Sanctum, where he could torture their useless souls for all eternity.
His hands actually shook as he joined Idess and Lilliana at the picnic table in the gazebo Lilliana had built near the brook that ran behind his palace. Little Mace gave him a big grin as he sat nearby playing with building blocks. Looked like he was creating a dog. Or, more likely, a hellhound.
“Father,” Idess said, coming to her feet to greet him. Of all his offspring, only Idess would show him physical affection, and she did so now, giving him a brief hug and a peck on the cheek as she pulled away.
It made him shake harder. What the everfucking hell was wrong with him?
“Have a seat.” Lilliana, her long chestnut hair framing her ageless face, patted the bench next to her. “We were just about to pour some wine and discuss ideas Idess had for bringing more Memitim to Sheoul-gra.” Reaching for the wine bottle, she gave him a playful wink. “Idess seems to think that more of them aren’t coming to live here because you’re scary.”
Lilliana’s tone was teasing, her smile bright, but the underlying truth, that his children were afraid of him, suddenly made an impact, cratering out his chest cavity like a meteor strike. He’d never cared about that in the past. Hell, he was proud of the fact that his offspring feared him. Fear...respect... It was all the same, right?
“Am I scary, Idess?” he asked, trying to sound...not scary.
Idess thrust her wine glass out at Lilliana. “Um, yes. Absolutely.”
Still standing, he glanced over at Mace, who was tasting a building block now. “And yet, you brought your child to see me.”
“Just a couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have,” she admitted. “But things have changed.” She gave Lilliana a secret smile that wasn’t as secret as she probably thought it was.
“I’d like to think I played a role in that,” Lilliana said, as if she didn’t know that she was the sole reason he wasn’t still a monster.
Because of Lilliana he had feelings. “Yeah, I’m a real boy now.”
She laughed, her amber eyes sparkling as she finished pouring the wine. “Look at you, referencing Pinocchio. The movies I make you watch are paying off.”
“Yeah, well, Pinocchio got turned back into a puppet.”
Idess shook her head. “You’re thinking of what happened to him in one of the Shrek movies.”
Ah, right. He liked the Shrek films. Ogres weren’t usually that funny.
Mace held out his arms and Idess scooped him up. “Do you want to hold your grandson?”
He stared at the squirming toddler, his heart racing, his mouth dry. Even his palms had begun to sweat. The child was the most innocent thing to have ever stepped foot in this realm, and Azagoth was the most evil. His hands... His hands had done things that child would never even be able to comprehend, and they didn’t belong anywhere near such purity.
“I can’t.” He backed up a few steps, hoping he didn’t look as panicked as he felt. “I’ll drop him.”
Lilliana stood, concern darkening her gorgeous eyes. “Darling, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said, still backing up. “I just have things to do. Appointments. I have to go.” He didn’t care that he looked like an idiot. He had to get out of there. “Idess, I’ll ah... I’ll see you later.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. He flashed into his office, his heart pounding, his breath burning in his throat.
What the fuck was happening to him?
With trembling hands, he poured himself a double shot of tequila from the bar on the far wall, downed it, and poured another. As he raised the glass to his lips for the second time, he noticed the flashing light on his communications pad.
He scanned the message from Jim Bob, one of his Heavenly spies, and trashed it. He wasn’t interested in low-level gossip speculating about the mysterious author of a new comic book series that was outing a lot of underworld and Heavenly secrets.
Nope, Azagoth didn’t give a shit about any of that. What he cared about was getting his emotions under control and his life in order. He didn’t know how to deal with his rogue emotions, but he did have an idea about the rest.
Unfortunately, that meant dealing with the Memitim Council, and for some reason, the only people ever appointed to the Council hated him.
For thousands of years he’d kept out of their business, letting them govern the Memitim in whatever shortsighted, dumbass manner they saw fit.
But those days were over. Azagoth had been absent as a parent, very hands-off, and as a result, his children had suffered.
There was a tap at the door, and his assistant, Zhubaal, entered. “My lord, Mariella is here.”
“It’s about fucking time,” he snarled. “Send her in.”
The tall, elegant brunette swept into his office, her purple velvet robes swishing around her high-heeled, jewel-encrusted shoes, her cinnamon wings extended and puffed up, as if she expected a fight.
It wasn’t as if a fight would be completely unprecedented.
Azagoth despised angels. Most of them, anyway. But the worst of the very worst were those who looked down their heavenly noses at him. Oh, they respected his power and his position, but on a personal level, they thought he was scum.
Mariella, in particular, thought he was a supreme lowlife, and she had for the entire three centuries in which she’d been his primary Heavenly liaison.
He hated her.
He glared as she launched into a tirade, lecturing him about his duties that related to Memitim. Thing was, she’d never been Memitim, wasn’t on the Council, and she didn’t even work in the embassy. She should be lecturing him about anything but Memitim.
“In summary,” she said, “you are out of luck.”
For the millionth time he thought about tossing her into the tunnel behind the wall panel and sending her to play with millions of demon souls. Just five minutes in the Inner Sanctum would wipe that smug look off her face. But it wouldn’t get him what he wanted.
Be civil. “I’m not asking for the Memitim program to end,” he gritted out. “I’m asking for some changes.”
“No.”
“Dammit, let me speak to someone on the fucking council.”
“Azagoth, you agreed to this thousands of years ago. You signed a contract in blood. And now, with fewer Memitim than ever, it’s even more crucial that the rules be strictly followed.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he snapped. “There’s no shortage of Memitim.”
“You have stopped fathering them, have you not?”
Stupid question, because she knew the damned answer. “You know I did, a couple of years ago when I took Lilliana as my mate. But that’s hardly enough time for Memitim numbers to suffer.”
She shook her head. “Production started going down centuries ago,” she said, making it sound like Azagoth had been putting his children together on an assembly line. “We used to get seventy-two Memitim from you per year. But even as the human population exploded and increased the need for guardians, you slowed down. Started refusing the females sent to you. You used to be so...prolific.”
That was because he used to believe in the cause. And he’d been young, dumb, and horny. Oh, and evil. Very evil. Then, sometime around the Industrial Revolution, he’d begun to grow bitter and angry. Rebellious. And it had been extremely satisfying to refuse the angels sent to his bed.
Still, he’d always left Memitim business to the Memitim Council. Until recently. Recently...he’d mated Lilliana. He’d filled his realm with his offspring and had gotten to know them. He’d also lost some who had died in battle protecting their Primori. And just this year, three others, mere children, had lost their lives growing up in horrible human conditions.
Oh, yeah, it was time for some shit to change, and he was done being civil.
“Listen to me,” he snarled as he backed her against the door he was going to toss her out of. “On some items there is room for negotiation. Then there are the things I demand. No negotiating on those.”
“Like plucking your juvenile offspring out of the human world and bringing them to you? Or taking your daughter Suzanne out of the Memitim program?”
“Yes, and yes. My children should grow up here, and Suzanne, despite being assigned a Primori, isn’t suited for this life.”
“That’s for the Memitim Council to decide. Not you.”
Murderous desire made his fangs throb for a taste of angel blood. “She’s my daughter!”
“She’s an instrument of Heaven, created by you for that purpose.” Mariella’s mouth twisted in distaste, as if she was picturing lying with him in bed. “You waived all rights to fatherhood the moment you spilled your seed inside her mother. You’re lucky we allowed you to open Sheoul-gra to your adult offspring. There’s no way you’re taking control of the juveniles.”
Cold, seething anger congealed in his veins. He did not like to be told no.
“Send me a Council member,” he growled. “I’m done with you.”
Her chin tilted up in defiance, but her lower lip trembled. Good. More of her was going to be trembling if he didn’t get his way.
“Council members aren’t authorized to negotiate with you.”
“Send one!” he roared, his patience shredded. “Send one today.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Satisfied—for now—he released the angel.
But if he didn’t see a Memitim Council member soon, Heaven was going to get a taste of his brand of hell.
* * * *
Lilliana drained her wine glass as if an instruction manual that would explain her mate was at the bottom.
One wasn’t.
“Was that weird?” Idess asked as she refilled her own glass. “Because I feel like that was weird.”
Lilliana sighed. “It was weird. I’m sorry, Idess. He’s been moody lately.”
“Is something going on?”
“I don’t know.” Lilliana smiled at Mace as he chased a butterfly. “He won’t talk to me about it.”
She’d tried on several occasions to get him to discuss whatever was making him grumpy, but he’d always either changed the subject or distracted her...usually with sex.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Idess asked. “I’m not that close to him, but I could try talking to him.”
“I think you’re closer to him than any of his children,” Lilliana said. “But you know, I think that might be part of the issue. He’s been spending more time with all of his sons and daughters. I’ve even heard him asking them about their pasts. Maybe he’s been trying to get closer to them.”
Idess smiled. “He’s opened up so much since you came into his life.”
“Lately it doesn’t feel that way.” No, it felt like he was pulling away from her. “And I don’t understand. Things are going so well here. I thought he was happy.”
“I’m sure he is.” Idess covered Lilliana’s hand with hers. “Whatever is going on with him isn’t about you.”
“I hope you’re right.” But secretly, Lilliana wasn’t so sure. She was certain he’d been avoiding her, but why? A group of Memitim walked by, arms loaded with party supplies. The two males and one of the females gave her an awkward wave or a smile, but the other two, a male and female, ignored her while waving to Idess. Lilliana got along with most of Azagoth’s offspring, but a handful despised her, or Azagoth, or both of them, and nothing she ever did made a difference. “Are you planning to stay for the festivities?”
Idess frowned. “Festivities?”
“It’s The Celebration of Angels Day.”
“Ah, yes.” Idess rolled her eyes. “The day angels everywhere get to congratulate themselves on being awesome and powerful and better than all other living things.”
“Precisely.”
Lilliana grinned at the other female. She adored Idess and wished they could spend more time together. Unfortunately, Idess was busy with her family and her work at Underworld General, where she escorted human souls into the Heavenly light, and Lilliana was, with few, specific exceptions, restricted to Sheoul-gra.
“I wish I could, but I need to be at a baby shower in an hour. Thanatos’s mate, Regan, is pregnant with their second child.”
Thanatos, one of the legendary Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, had come to Azagoth once for a favor, but that was before Lilliana’s time, and she’d never met the guy or his ex-demon slayer mate.
“Send them my best,” Lilliana said, struggling to conceal the wistfulness in her voice.
She’d never expected anything even close to a traditional life with Azagoth, but sometimes hearing how normal things could be, even for biblical legends, made her a little envious.
Would anyone hold a baby shower for her baby when the time came? Would Azagoth even be excited, given that their child would be only one of thousands?
“Hey,” Idess said softly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lilliana said, and she was.
Really. She was a little tired, maybe, and if she was honest with herself, she’d say she was a bit lonely. Whatever was going on with Azagoth had taken him away from her, not just emotionally, but physically, too.
Well, except when it came to sex. Which, she just realized, might be the key to getting him to talk. She just had to go about it in a different way.
With a shaking hand, she poured another glass of liquid resolve.
Azagoth was about to get a lesson in abstinence, and he was very much not fond of being told no.