Page 48 of Fate and Fury

He assumed Sammael spied on him, too, after all. It was only fair.

Gadreel lounged back in his favorite leather chair, wearing a blue velvet suit he’d stolen from an unsuspecting human some time ago, while the latter was insensible from drink. He could have conjured the suit, but where was the fun in invention when you could engage in acts of trickery? Not to mention, there was something softer, finer, about the real thing. As foolish and weak as humans might be, they did have a talent for beauty.

He peered into the mirror that stood across from him, admiring his reflection. Blue was an excellent color on him. It matched his eyes.

“Show me the Venom of God,” he said. “Seducer, destroyer, and general inconvenience. Show me Sammael.”

The mirror rippled in response to his command. It went foggy, mist drifting across its surface. And then it cleared.

There sat Sammael, in the guise he’d kept for the last hundred years: broad shoulders, short red hair, cheeks free of stubble. His wings were invisible, glamoured to lie flat beneath his loose-fitting shirt. The demon had never had a good sense of style, unlike Gadreel, who had dressed for their meeting. A shame, really, given the millennia he’d had to improve himself. Gadreel had tried to give him pointers, but alas, it had not goneover well. He was missing a few feathers from his own equally glamoured wings as proof.

Sammael was doing…absolutely nothing interesting. He was sitting at the desk in his scrying room, a book from one of his shelves in hand, paging through it and making notes on a piece of parchment.

Really, he was the most boring demon Gadreel had ever met. The most interesting things about him were his on-again, off-again relationship with Lilith and the doors to his palace, which were studded with the eyes of his favorite victims. Gadreel had tried to compliment him on his choice of décor, but again, it had not gone over well. He had protested that he wasn’t being sarcastic, but Sammael’s bird-headed guards had made a concerted effort to kill him, and, well…that was the last time Gadreel had been invited to pay Sammael a visit in person.

It wasn’t Gadreel’s fault, really. If Sammael didn’t want blood all over his foyer, he needed to learn how to accept a compliment.

Gadreel narrowed his eyes at Sammael, who was oblivious to his presence. The demon didn’t look suspicious, like he’d called their meeting to confront Gadreel about setting the Darkness free and bringing about the end of the human and demon realms. He looked like he almost always looked…like someone had inserted a stick into his posterior and run it straight up his spine. He looked like this even in battle, dispatching his enemies as efficiently as possible and with a minimum of fuss. The only time Gadreel had seen him look any different was when a woman was concerned. They were his weakness, especially fragile ones in need of aid. Gadreel suspected this was because Lilith had been the opposite of that, in every way.

As Gadreel watched, Sammael ran his fingers through his hair, which stood on end. He slammed the book down and glaredat the parchment. At the ceiling. Heaved a sigh. Back at the parchment again. He looked…frustrated.

Was it possible, Gadreel wondered, that he was up to something?

Perhaps. Or perhaps his ink pot had run dry. It was hard to tell with Sammael, who was always scheming. Scheming Sammael, they should call him, rather than the Venom of God.

Gadreel snapped his fingers at the mirror, which clouded over again. He looked down at the woman kneeling at his feet, who looked back up at him with her big, dark eyes. Waiting for his command. His soldiers had taken her from Kalach, as the spoils of war, and Gadreel had demanded her obedience. It was everything he would usually enjoy. And yet he felt nothing. Worse than nothing…he felt empty. The ragged hole inside him nagged, a vacuum that couldn’t be filled by deviltry or debauchery.

He thought of how Dimi Ivanova had faced him down in the forest, hurling curses and fire. She was a match for the void that pulled at Gadreel, sucking in pleasure and spitting out emptiness. If he hadn’t already needed her to vanquish the Darkness, he would have coveted her for his own. When they had driven the Darkness back together, he would have her. Maybe Gadreel would bring her Shadow too, as a pet. He’d take joy in chaining the black dog to his throne and throwing it a bone every now and then. But first, he had to save the demon realms. And tonight, his means for doing so had slipped between his fingers.

Gadreel had been arrogant. Foolish. His foot soldiers were one thing; his own strength was another. He had assumed no Dimi, no matter how powerful, could stand against him, especially with the weakening wards. And sure enough, his soldiers had been able to invade Kalach in a way they never had before. The wards had bent before them, giving way to theDark and letting the Grigori through. But when it came time to confront the Dimi he’d come for, nothing had gone as planned.

She had called the rain, on a night as dry as any he’d seen. She had broken the very sky open and summoned a wind powerful enough to sever the trunks of ten oaks. She’d called rowan-fire from a half-mile away and lit her battering rams aflame, killing demon after demon while her Shadow fought by her side. Gadreel shuddered to admit it, but he had feared for his life. He’d made his intentions clear; she knew he wanted her. She would kill him, if she could. Or at least vanquish him to the Void, which was as close as he could come to dying.

He had never encountered a Dimi who was a match for him. Even as he’d retreated to the closest portal, near the ruined altar where the Dimi’s accursed saints had worshiped centuries before, he’d been filled with a vicious exultation: She was stronger even than he had believed. She was the one who could stand with him against the Darkness, which hungered more with each passing second. Its craving echoed in the call of the wind, in the voices of the Void that whispered inside him.

In another place and time, Gadreel would have made a game of claiming this Dimi for his own. He would have tempted her and teased her, making her promises that he had no intention of keeping, before he tethered her to his side. But as he sprawled in his chair, counting down the minutes until his meeting with Sammael, he knew time was not a luxury he had. If he was going to save the Underworld and maintain his superiority within it, he needed a solutionnow.His direct attack on Kalach had failed. He needed to lure the Dimi out, to trick her. But how?

She was a twenty-one-year-old woman, barely more than a girl. And yet she had managed to stand against him. It was unsupportable. But here, in the heart of his realm, he was still king. And no matter how powerful she was, she could not resist him forever.

His mirror clouded over and cleared once again to reveal Sammael. Heaving a sigh, Gadreel braced himself. “In the name of Lucifer, Prince of the Power of the Air, King of the Bottomless Pit, and Father of Lies, I welcome you to this regrettable get-together,” he drawled.

“Gadreel. Right on time,” Sammael said in his usual fussy way. “What a surprise.”

Gadreel leaned back in his chair, beckoning to the woman who knelt at his feet. “Would I disrespect the Venom of God by being late?”

His fellow Watcher glowered at him. “You can. And you do. Frequently. To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected punctuality?”

“You said you had somewhere to be.” Gadreel rolled his eyes. “Besides, you know how I feel about meetings. ‘If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well it were done quickly,’ no?”

“You and your human scribes.” Sammael smirked at him. “You do have a weakness for the creatures.”

Gadreel bristled. Just because he’d kept Dante Alighieri’s head as a door-knocker for a few centuries… What was more entertaining than a disembodied butler who announced, ‘Abandon hope, all ye who enter here’? “And you have no sense of humor,” he said. “Not to mention a disturbing fondness for paperwork. Of the two of us, I am far more popular at parties.”

Sammael shoved his parchment hastily aside, as if he’d forgotten it was there and didn’t want Gadreel to catch a glimpse of it. Very interesting, indeed. “How would you know? We hardly run in the same circles.”

With an effort, Gadreel refrained from making a cutting remark about the boring nature of Sammael’s realm. Instead he said, “In search of some new reading material? Perhaps there’s something in my library I might be able to lend you. It is rather…extensive.”

“My library is just as well-stocked as yours,” Sammael huffed. He was so easy to rile. “If you must know, I’m looking for an ancient tome from the Seven Villages. It was lost some time ago, and lately I’ve found myself curious about it.”

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