“Wow, you’ve really gone for the rustic approach, haven’t you?” Anael looked around. Unlike Zagan’s compound which resembled an army barracks with a big palace in the middle of it, Haures’s compound looked more like a fort from the Old West. Huge wooden fences with spikes on top surrounded the area; guards patrolling every corner. Everything looked harsh and militant.

“Just stay close to me,” Haures ordered as one of the guards shouted and pointed at him. “These guys stopped believing in the likes of you well before they got here.”

“And what? Patrice is hoping to revive their beliefs in the hopes they can be saved?”

“When you’re facing eternity with nothing to lose, anything’s a possibility.” A tall man in a uniform Anael didn’t recognize strode across the compound. “Brawn, are Patrice and his cronies still in lock-up?”

“Yes, sir,” Brawn saluted. “Just as you ordered. Shall I send them to the pits now?”

“Lock up? The pits?” Anael had a sinking feeling he was in over his head.

“Man tried to start a riot, shiny sir,” Brawn said crisply. “We don’t hold with that around here. The commander insisted they be locked up for now, but the men are all waiting for the pit party. It’s going to be a blast.”

“I determine who and when someone goes to the pits, Brawn,” Haures said sternly. “Bring the men to my office and station guards there until I say otherwise.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Brawn saluted again and strode away, his back straight, his polished boots kicking up dust.

“He seems like a nice man,” Anael said as Haures led him to a stark white bungalow fashioned out of stones topped with a thatched roof. “Very efficient.”

“He’s definitely efficient, all right,” Haures agreed as he opened the large wooden door and ushered Anael inside. “He used that efficiency to cover-up the murder of twelve of his family members and more than twenty of the young men under his command. Everyone he lived with believed he was bucking for sainthood until he died. There were a few shocked faces when he ended up down here.”

“Really?” Anael felt sick and was happy to sit in the chair Haures indicated.

“Zagan told me you have a kind soul,” Haures said, taking his seat behind a battered wooden desk. “I don’t intend on abusing that. The only reason I called you here was because some of my men are close to being saved and yet others, thanks to Patrice, are close to undoing all their good work because of the rubbish the man is spouting. If they can have one chance to look upon someone who glows like you do, then maybe it will help them. Plus, one of you angels needs to hear what Patrice has to say about his relationship with Uriel. I strongly believe if Uriel had faced the truth about this a long time ago then he wouldn’t have tried to kill Botis.”

“Uriel’s grief over Patrice ran deeper than we were ever aware,” Anael said, blinking back his tears as he thought of his friend. He needed to be strong for his friend’s sake. “No angel gives their heart lightly to another.”

“Then Zagan’s a lucky demon to have yours.” Haures looked as though he was going to say something more, but there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

Brawn and two other men in similar uniforms escorted in a group of four men. In contrast to the uniforms worn by the guards, these men were clad in nothing more than ragged pants although their faces and exposed skin was clean. One guy stood out, not so much because of his almost ethereal looks, but because of the look of cunning in his eyes.

“Prisoners as requested, sir,” Brawn said sharply. “You wanted to see them before sending them to the pits.”

“Wait outside, Brawn,” Haures ordered, “I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

“Sir, yes sir.” His salute no less efficient despite the clear disappointment on his face, Brawn marched the other two guards out of the office.

“Patrice, step forward. As agreed when you were sentenced for attempting to incite a riot among my men, I asked the angel Anael, mate of King Zagan, to speak with you before punishment.”

Punishment? Sentencing? Haures you could have given me a heads up. But Anael didn’t have time to say anything before Patrice ran across the room, falling in a heap at his feet, clutching at his knees with tears running down his face.

“Please, please save me,” Patrice begged piteously. “Uriel has been my only love for five hundred years. All I want is a chance to see him again, talk to him, touch his sweet face one last time before I’m condemned to eternal torment. Please, I beg of you.”

Instinctively, Anael wanted to hold Patrice close and plead with Haures himself to let him go. But as Patrice kept his head bowed, Anael searched his soul for evidence of this love he professed to have. There was nothing. Not a thread, shred or anything else to show this man had ever loved anyone at all. Greed, hate, envy and lust wrapped around the man’s soul like a ball of twine, but the love he spoke of didn’t exist.

“Oh Patrice.” The man looked up as soon as Anael spoke and Anael saw the truth in his eyes. He was counting on the fact an angel’s forgiving heart could be manipulated, just as Uriel’s had been. “Haures should have asked Raziel to speak with you. He would have smote you down and escorted you to the pits himself.” Pushing Patrice’s hands from his legs, Anael stood up and extended his wings as far as they would go. “Angels are the toys of no man, beast or being. Your callous disregard for life was bad enough. But to prey on me, using my kind heart as a means of getting to my friend, twisting Uriel’s genuine love for you further, sickens me.”

“But I’m genuinely sorry,” Patrice pleaded. “I thought Uriel was just a man. I had no idea until it was too late. I let an angel slip through my fingers and for five hundred years I’ve prayed for a chance to redeem myself. I want to throw myself at his feet and beg for mercy.”

“It wouldn’t make any difference, not to you or your future.” Anael shook his head, disgusted at how Patrice still believed he had the upper hand despite being on his knees. No wonder Uriel was smitten. “How long did you practice your pitiful display in front of the mirror? How long did it take for you to learn to cry on demand? If I told you how beautiful you looked you’d be all over me like a rash and if you try and tell me you didn’t try the same thing on Haures I’ll call you a liar.”

“I don’t fuck any of my minions,” Haures said firmly. “But yes, he did try to blow me when I sentenced him. It was a bold move and I reward initiative which is why I asked you to come. But that’s as far as my leniency goes.”

“I just need a chance,” Patrice begged one last time. And it would be the last time. Anael did something he rarely ever did. He hardened his heart. His friend deserved no less from him. “Uriel loves me, dotes on me, would kill for me. The demons are all talking about it. He tried to kill Botis because it was that slimy serpent that ended my life and shoved me through hell’s doors. He still loves me after all this time and I know he’ll save me if you just let him know I’m here.”

“He already knows,” Anael said simply, watching as Patrice’s face registered shock for the first time. “He’s always known your fate, Patrice. But that doesn’t mean there’s anything he can or will do for you. Botis broke Uriel’s heart by telling him the truth of your deeds on the day you died. He’s had to live with the knowledge you cheated on him and killed innocent souls to summon demons to do your nefarious business, all while proclaiming your love for him. Uriel was your muse, the source of your inspiration. He boosted your creative gifts, found you patrons and people who paid good money for your art. And all the while, you slept around behind his back and lied to his face. You showed no consideration for Uriel while you were alive and I’ll show none for you now.”

“Hey,” one of the other prisoners spoke up. “I thought you said this angel gig was a sure thing.”

“It will be if I save him. Get him!” Patrice leapt to his feet as the other prisoners surged towards Anael. Flinging out his arms, Anael threw the power of his love and kindness in their path, blowing them back towards the now open door where Zagan was waiting to receive them with wide arms.

“There you are precious,” Zagan said with a flash of teeth as he clanged heads together and let bodies drop to the floor. “Having fun?”

“Apparently, Haures’s men are having a pit party. Shall we go?” Anael brushed past Patrice who grabbed at his legs, trying to nuzzle his groin. With a roar, Zagan was across the room in seconds, grabbing him around the neck, lifting him up and shaking him like a rat.

“No one touches my angel but me. Face it bozo, you had your chance with an angel of your own. You blew it.” Throwing Patrice to the floor with a decided thump that had to hurt, Zagan held out his arm, which Anael took with a smile. “See, precious, I’m learning. The man still has his head attached and considering all the paperwork I’ve had to go through in the last two hours, that’s a freaking miracle in itself.”

“That’s because you love me.” Anael beamed. “Ah, Brawn, there you are. Four men for the pit, isn’t that right, Haures?”

“Do as the pretty angel says, Brawn.” Haures laughed. “Let’s get this party started.”

“Sir, yes sir.”