“This is…” Nyalla grimaced and slid the parchment across her bedspread to me. “This is disturbing.”

“You can’t tell Gabe,” I warned her. “I don’t want any of them to know about this yet. Gregory already suspects because the dead enforcers bore an energy trace that was similar to Samael’s. He wanted to keep that quiet. I want to keep this quiet.”

She nodded. “What are you going to do?”

“Wait until he summons me, then come crawling like a beggar on my knees and kill his fucking ass, that’s what.”

“Good. And Lux?”

I’d told her about Remiel as well. “That Ancient is getting him over my dead body. I can’t afford to antagonize him with all this shit going on right now, though. If I fail to kill Samael and this comes down to war, I’ll need all the other Ancients behind me.”

“So?” She glanced worriedly toward her door. Lux was downstairs with some milk and oatmeal, watching a cartoon about teenage superheroes cohabitating in a building built like a giant T.

“So I lie. I’ll find out why he wants Lux, then prevaricate like a motherfucker. Wait until after I feel better able to take Remiel on, then let him know that he’s never getting Lux back. Hopefully he’ll accept that, because I really don’t want to try my luck in killing two powerful Ancients back-to-back like this.”

Nyalla nodded and glanced at the door once more. “Let me know how I can help. I better get down there before Lux decides to get himself more oatmeal. He’s not very good at boiling water.”

Thankfully the angel was very good at repairing scalded skin, although he’d made quite a huge fuss about burning himself. Honestly, I think part of that fuss was so he could get a chance to snuggle up to Nyalla’s boobs again. Gabe better watch out, or he was going to be shoved aside for a golden-haired infant with some pretty smooth moves.

“Sam!” Nyalla called from the stairs. “Snip is here with a guest?”

Oh fuck. Doriel. With the note and Remiel’s message, I’d forgotten her visit was today.

I hotfooted it down the stairs in enough time to see Doriel walk into my home, escorted by Snip. She was in a different female human form, this one with inky skin and a cap of buzz-cut hair. Decorative scarring lined her collarbone and her cheekbones and the piercing she had in her lower lip dangled a tiny gold bead. I’m not sure when or where she’d acquired this form, but the human woman she’d Owned was over six feet tall with the sort of graceful musculature that could just as easily outrun a small car as snap a telephone pole in half.

I’d felt her energy from the hallway and winced. No wonder the Ancient didn’t make a habit of leaving Hel. Every angel in her general vicinity would probably know she was here. If she hadn’t come in under my protection, Grigori enforcers would have been on her like flies on shit. And while I’m pretty sure the Ancient could take on pretty much any angel thrown at her, being constantly attacked wasn’t a great way to start a vacation.

Well, unless you were a warmonger, that is. Doriel wasn’t a warmonger. She was one of those unspecialized Ancients that meant she was old, old, old. And powerful, powerful, powerful. I wasn’t sure if she could dial things down and hide her energy signature or whether she was so strong that she didn’t bother, preferring instead to walk around with a giant blazing fuck-you energy that felt like a nuclear blast coming through my doorway.

“Welcome!” I dismissed Snip with a quick wave of my hand and ushered the Ancient into my living room. “I hope your journey was pleasant and that the gate guardian didn’t give you any trouble.”

She gave me a toothy smile. “She wasn’t pleased, but she gave me no trouble at all. Clearly I’d underestimated you, Iblis. Your network is more far-reaching than I’d imagined.”

I think it had helped that I didn’t have over three million years of baggage to cart around. And a shared love of fashion and cheap Chinese take-out hadn’t hurt.

“Who is this?” She eyed Lux with curiosity. He was doing the same from the couch, oatmeal smeared across his chin and chest. He was naked, as always, with Nyalla hovering protectively by his side.

“Lux. My kid.”

Doriel tilted her head. “He’s not of your creation. And he’s an angel, which means his sire is an angel. After all that happened in the war and afterward, what angel would possibly breed with us?”

“More than you think. There’s another angel newborn besides Lux, and several angel pairings that I believe will result in angelic offspring in the next few decades.”

She caught her breath and stared, fascinated as Nyalla scooped Lux up into her arms. The angel revealed his wings, spreading them for maximum effect as he buried his face in Nyalla’s cleavage. As the girl carried him up the stairs, the angel peered over her shoulder at us and stuck out his tongue at Doriel.

The Ancient said nothing, but as she watched the angel infant, I saw a desperate longing in her eyes.

“What can I get you?” I headed into the kitchen and was a bit surprised when Doriel followed me. “An omelet? Pizza? Beer? Vodka?”

“Whatever you’re having. It’s been so long since I’ve been out of Hel I don’t even remember which human foods or beverages I prefer.” She gave me a brief smile that held a hint of sadness. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done more than slumber. It’s a treat just to see everything, to experience all the sensations of the human world. I’d forgotten how seductive, how breathtaking it can all be. They’ve done wonderful things, these humans have. I’d always thought the angels would squash them under a too-firm hand.”

I winced. “I’m afraid that still might happen. Up until now, the angels have only devoted a small group of Grigori to shepherding the humans through their evolution. The rest of them locked themselves up in Aaru like the sanctimonious shits they are. Eventually they started fighting amongst themselves about whose shit didn’t stink. Suddenly there’s more rebellion, this time between the conservative faction and the more conservative faction.”

She shrugged. “Without us to fight they turned on each other. I’m not surprised. Our punishment was banishment and theirs was having to live in an Aaru without us.”

I pulled two beers out of the fridge, popped the caps off and handed her one. “Now they don’t even have Aaru.”

She took a swig and shot me a raised-eyebrow look. “And that is a hollow victory since we cannot seem to exist as beings of spirit. Although Remiel paid me a call late last night and told me he thinks he might have a solution to that.”

Did that solution have something to do with Lux? I stiffened, even more resolved that he’d never lay a hand on my little angel. Never.

“Personally, I think in his desperation he’s focusing on the wrong thing.” Doriel glanced over the divider between the kitchen and the great room, looking toward the stairs. “There’s something else I’m more interested in at the moment than Aaru.”

“Like what?”

She gave me a sly smile. “Well, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Things in Hel are kind of boring with most of the elves gone. If Remiel isn’t going to bother taking this world from the angels, perhaps I’ll do it myself.”

Shit. One more thing to deal with. Add one more Ancient trying to fuck shit up to my list.

“How about you hold off on that idea for a bit. I’m working toward a situation where we all can share this place. There are a few issues I need to clear up before I ask the Ruling Council to consider my proposal again, but I’ve floated the idea out there, and I think some will eventually be agreeable.” I told her. “Angels will have their spots and demons have their spots. We’d all have to come to agreements with the humans about the rules, though.”

“Rules?” Her nose wrinkled.

“Yes, rules. Not eight hundred pages and PowerPoint slides rules, but basic standards of conduct.” I fixed her with a glare. “And don’t give me some shit about how Angels of Chaos don’t do rules. We have rules in Hel. Don’t fuck with someone’s household members unless you want to pay a blood price, or are able to take out the entire household in a feud. Steal shit and get caught, and you better be a fast talker or you’re dead and no one owes a blood price. We have breeding contracts that would rival some of the four-nine-five reports I’ve filled out. We have rules.”

“These rules need to fit on a double-sided piece of parchment, or no demon is going to abide by them,” she warned. “And whatever you’re thinking of needs to happen pretty soon, because I’m ready for this now.”

She was right. Get a horde of demons all worked up to fight, and it would be near impossible to talk them down.

“Those issues I told you about? Well, there is someone who is here killing angels and Grigori enforcers. That’s a problem. Plus, if Remiel decides he wants to throw his hat in the ring, that’s an issue as well. I need this place clear of unruly demons and angel-killing Ancients before the Ruling Council is going to consider some sort of co-rule.”

She shrugged. “You’re the Iblis. Take care of it. I’ll only be patient for so long. As for Remiel, he clearly has another priority with Aaru.

I tried to ignore the fact that Remiel’s priority included that young angel Doriel had just seen. “Say I make a deal where I give you a section of the human world? For helping me get rid of these rabble rousers and fighting on my side if it comes to war?”

She pursed her lips in thought, the golden dangly ball swinging with the motion. “I’ll consider it. Things are too early for me to make that kind of decision.”

Fair enough. Now for the issue I really wanted to discuss. “Read this and let me know what you think.”

Doriel took the parchment from my hand and opened it. Then she gasped. “Samael?”

“I’m hoping you can weigh in on that.”

“Why doesn’t he just call the sword if he wants it?” She frowned at the parchment.

“Either he doesn’t have control over it, and I need to either hand it over or be killed for him to take it, or he is using that as a pretext to bring me in so he can use me as bait for his siblings.”

“Or it’s not really Samael, but some imposter.” She ran a finger over the words.

I waited for her to finish. “What do you think?”

“The wording sounds like him. And the energy signature…”

“Yeah?” I held my breath.

“The energy signature is exactly as I remembered.”

Fuck. “So it’s him? In your opinion as someone who knew Samael, who was close to him, this is authentic? Samael is awake and out for blood. And wings?”

Doriel nodded. “If I had received this note, I wouldn’t doubt it. What has he been doing for two-and-a-half-million years though? And why did he not contact us first?”

She meant why had he not contacted her first. “I don’t know. I’ve heard it suggested that perhaps he blamed the other Fallen for the failure to win the war and the banishment?”

The Ancient sucked in a harsh breath. “Perhaps. I hate to think of that, but it would explain his absence since the fall as well as his not contacting us.”

Ugh, that had to hurt. Still I appreciated that Doriel was honest enough to admit that might be the case.

“Whatever the reason, if you think this is Samael, then I’m going to believe it probably is.”

“Yes.” She handed the parchment back to me. “But I wouldn’t state without a doubt that this is from Samael—not without seeing him, or at least hearing from others I trust that he’s definitely alive. Two-and-a-half-million years, and then just this parchment? The circumstances and lack of other evidence of his existence cause me to harbor a shred of doubt.”

She was right. “Somebody knows this Ancient, whether it’s Samael or not. An Ancient doesn’t just show up out of the blue, one that nobody recognizes and knows, claims to be Samael, and starts gathering followers. Demons are a suspicious lot. Outside of Lows, none of them are going to follow someone claiming to be an all-powerful Ancient, the former Iblis, unless he has references.”

She pointed the beer bottle at me. “If it’s Samael, then he’ll have the leadership skills and the power to attract demons to his side without question. He had that charisma, that way about him…it was as if we were connected to him somehow. If Samael were to appear, the demons would not be suspicious. They would be like rats and children behind the Pied Piper.”

A horrible curdling sensation churned in my stomach, and it had nothing to do with the oatmeal I’d eaten earlier. Samael had the charisma, the leadership ability. Demons would flock to him, follow him, obey his commands, fear and respect him.

He was everything I wasn’t. And yes, that curdling sensation was jealousy.

“What if it’s not him?” I asked, really, really wanting this to be an imposter and not some ideal I could never ever live up to.

Doriel shrugged. “Minor doubts aside, I think it’s him. I just can’t see it being an imposter, but if so, then it’s a high-level Ancient who knew Samael and he is faking the energy signature in a very convincing manner to get the sword from you.”

“Then it’s Samael but he’s not the same. His power is degraded, and he’s weak,” I conjectured. “That’s why I still have the sword. That’s why nobody sensed him in Hel. He didn’t want to contact any of the Ancients and have them see how he’d weakened. It was easier to grab a few thousand mid-level demons and bluff his way back into being the Iblis.”

The air crackled with her power. The beer bottle in her hand warped and melted into a blob of brown glass. “Samael wasn’t like that. No matter what happened, he’d always be the Iblis. He was our bright light, our morning star. You could feel the sharp bite of his energy from a distance, but more than that there was just an aura around him. His presence…it wasn’t something you’d ever forget. He wouldn’t weaken. He wouldn’t need to hide. If he’s abandoned us, it’s because we’re not worthy of him.”

I held up my hands. “Okay, then. He’s alive, and this note is from him. He’s ignored all the other Ancients, gathered an army of demons, and plans revenge.”

Was Samael humiliated because he blamed himself for the banishment and couldn’t face his former colleagues? Or was he angry at them because he thought the defeat was their fault? That they didn’t do enough?

“Why didn’t he join Remiel in going to Aaru?” I threw out there. “Or why not be the one to lead that initiative? I would have thought if he was going to make an appearance after all this time, it would have been then.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps he knew the devolution had reached the point where we could no longer live as beings of spirit. He didn’t want to return to Aaru, only to find he could no longer truly live there. You’ve got to admit, it’s kind of pitiful what Remiel and the others are doing, hanging around an empty world in decaying corporeal form.”

She was right—it was pitiful.

“There’s something else we need to think about. I still have the sword,” I told her. “If Samael is rising to take back power, why can’t he call it to him? He’s calling himself the Iblis in this message, but he hasn’t made any attempt to take Hel.”

She frowned. “That sword was a part of him. I can’t see him ever giving it up. It is possible that once he was cast out of Aaru, the sword abandoned him as the legends say. It’s also possible that he is the one who abandoned the sword when he Fell.”

“If it left him, and if it refuses to go back, then he’s pissed.”

“Which means he’s going to kill you to get it back. You can’t continue to live because it clearly chose you over him.”

So I better watch my back. Even though the sword was a disobedient mofo, it had been a tad more reliable in the last few weeks. Did it finally feel I was being Iblis-like in my behavior enough to grace me with its presence? Or was I getting better at commanding it? I didn’t really know, but I got the idea that if Samael had thrown the sword away and wanted it back, I could do nothing to stop him from taking it. And I was pretty sure the sword could do nothing to stop him from reclaiming it. So either the sword left him as unworthy, or he’d tossed it into the keeping of the vampires and truly didn’t want it back.

Doriel went to the fridge and pulled out two more beers, handing me one as she twisted the cap off the other and took a swig. “Samael spared his eldest brother in battle and showed mercy, only to have him rise up, deliver what probably should have been a mortal wound, then banished half of the angelic host into a living hell from which there was no coming back. Do you doubt that he’d want his revenge?”

Damn Gregory and his sins of pride and anger. He’d fucked everything up beyond belief, and the only thing keeping me from delivering a good ass-kicking was that I knew he blamed himself far more than I ever could. I don’t think he would ever forgive himself for what he’d done. Not just that, but I don’t think he could ever forgive himself for not realizing what he’d done and moving to rectify it. Building the angel gateways hadn’t been enough of an apology. He’d needed to do more. And he hadn’t. That was the cross he’d need to bear for the rest of his immortal life.

“So he’s going to kill the archangels, take the humans and their world, then kill all of the other angels or push them out into a Hel of their own where they can rot as we did.”

“Yes.” Her voice was soft and reverential, as though this revenge had been her fondest wish for millions of years of banishment.

“Will you join him?”

Hurt flashed across her dark eyes. “He clearly doesn’t want me or he would have called me to his side.”

I felt her pain. Felt it. That weird sensation came over me again, and suddenly it wasn’t just Doriel that seemed a part of me, but every Low in the guest house, every demon scattered across the human world, every being in Hel. It was overwhelming and painful. Just as I felt like I was about to come apart, the feeling faded and vanished, and I was standing in my kitchen once more, holding a beer, talking to an Ancient.

But something lingered—an odd awareness.

“Maybe he hasn’t called you and the others because he blames himself for the banishment,” I said softly. “He had Michael on his knees, and turned his back on him. He put his family relationship, his love for his brother, above the safety and welfare of every Angel of Chaos in Aaru. He failed you, and he’s too ashamed to ask you to stand by his side now.”

What was I doing? Was I really convincing a breathtakingly powerful Ancient to join forces with the former Iblis?

Tears glistened in Doriel’s eyes. “Well then he is a fool. I would never abandon him. I would never forsake him. Never.”

“I need you,” I told her. “I need you to support me as the Iblis, especially if this is truly Samael and he’s set on destroying everything here. Can’t you see that this isn’t good for any of us? Not the humans, or the future of angels and demons. We need to be coming together, to be putting aside old grudges and working for a future of unity, of new creation like Lux.”

She hesitated. “If this isn’t Samael, then you have my support in exchange for a portion of the human world to rule.”

“And if it is Samael?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. If it is Samael, I will try to convince him to see things your way, to give up on his revenge. But you have to know that if he demands my loyalty, if this is truly Samael and he calls me to his side, then it is him I will follow.”

“Then seek him out,” I told her, trusting fate to see things right. “Seek him out, and try to change his mind. If you can’t, then ask him to wait. Let him know I’m trying to negotiate some sort of compromise. You were close once. Use that relationship to help him see that this path he’s taking isn’t going to help any of us. He once showed his brother mercy. Now it’s time for him to extend that mercy to all the angels. Our future depends on it.”

She laughed. “If his heart is set on revenge, your compromise might not be enough for him.”

It would have to be. “Will you do it? Will you find him? Go to him and counsel him to change his mind?”

Doriel nodded. “Yes, although part of me is afraid to see if this is truly him or not. I’m not sure whether I want the Ancient I meet with to be Samael or some demon who has assumed his name. What if the reason I never sensed Samael in Hel was that he’d degraded beyond what I would recognize as the angel I…”

That she loved? I’d wondered about their relationship.

“But I’m being foolish. Wounds that are not healed fester and grow,” Doriel continued. “After all this time, I do not expect to find Samael as he was. His energy signature I would recognize, but the angel I doubt I will. What has become of him in all this time? What remains of the Iblis after this long a banishment, especially given how personal the betrayal was to him?”

That was something she’d only discover by meeting him face-to-face. Would something remain deep down inside of the old Samael, the mischievous Angel of Chaos he’d been before the responsibilities of the war, before the fall? Or would nothing remain but hate and anger, a powerful Ancient determined to destroy the angels, and their pet project, to lay waste to this world and the people in it?