Page 80 of All's Hell That Ends Well

“How can I let him know how I feel now?” Though still a near shout, my voice cracked, and the glass pane next to me cracked as well. “How am I supposed to thank him? How do I tell him how grateful I am that he took care of Zoe? That he preserved her memories against all odds, without my asking? That he came to our aid there in the end?”

“Azazel…” Naamah laid her hand on my shoulder, a bold move considering I was seconds away from laying waste to this entire building.

“He should have seen that angel coming,” I ground out. “How could he have been so oblivious to his surroundings to not notice her creeping up on him?” My voice rose to a yell. “He should have seen her!Ishould have seen her!”

I flinched at the last part, my power flickering. Wide-eyed by that subconscious admission, I turned away and ran a hand over my face.

“And there it is,” Naamah said softly. “The true cause of your anger.”

Breath coming heavy and fast, I stared out at the city, not seeing a fucking thing. My mind replayed that scene over and over, how I’d turned toward the gate, missing the moment the angel had stalked up behind Azrael, only Zoe’s shout of warning making me whip around again. Too late to stop the angel swinging her sword for my father’s neck.

Too late.

Too late.

Two words that haunted me in my quietest moments, damning me to regret and self-recrimination. I should have seen that angel. I should have stopped her. I should have?—

“It wasn’t your fault,” Naamah murmured.

I sucked in air, my lungs burning.

“And it wasn’t his fault either.” She had the courage to lay her hand on my shoulder again.

At my sides, my hands clenched and unclenched. My power ran hot in my veins, unwilling to be soothed.

“I never lose sight of my surroundings,” I gritted out. “I am always aware. I take care of threats before they arise. And I should have cut the heads off the angels Zoe incapacitated with the darts.”

Naamah tsked. “You had just been freed from torture, you were still recovering, and you had just fought a group of angels, all while knowing the clock was ticking for you to get out of Heaven. And then your father showed up and helped you, turning what you knew about him on its head—it is no wonder you didn’t see the threat that was lurking. Do not blame yourself for something that was outside of your control. You are not in charge of every little thing that happens!”

My energy wanted to lash out and smash these windows, much like the irrational voice inside me wanted to argue the point.

“You are not!” Naamah repeated, her voice rising to a shout. “Azazel Helel ben Shachar, you snap out of this right now.”

I winced at hearing her address me by my full given name, the latter part a cognate of Lucifer—and the reason I usually pretended it wasn’t part of my name.

Her using it now had the intended effect. Like all children whose mothers brought out the big guns of calling them by all of their given names, I snapped to attention, looking at her with a mix of wariness and perplexity.

Though being shorter than me by more than a foot, she managed to make it seem like she was looming over me, pointing her finger right in my face. “Do you suffer from a bout of absurdity? Did you not just minutes earlier tell me you are more than your anger and pain? Where is that rationality of yours now, hm?” She flicked her fingers against my forehead. “Do you blame Zoe for not killing that angel in time?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you do not blame yourself either.” She put her hands on her hips, looking daggers at me. “Lay those self-recriminations to rest. Fate is a cruel mistress, and to dwell on the twists and turns she deals is the surest path to madness. You are not at fault. And that need of yours to let him know of your gratitude? You can thank him by cherishing the gift he gave you instead of blaming yourself for his death.”

I blinked at her, once more reminded of where Azmodea got her spunk from.

Nodding once, I rasped, “All right.”

“Good.” Her expression softened. “Did I hear that right earlier, that it was thanks to him that Zoe’s memories were actually preserved?”

“Yeah.”

I rubbed my hand over my face again, realizing Naamah might not have known about this part. I’d figured Zoe might have mentioned it before everything went down, but it made sense that she hadn’t had the chance to tell Naamah while in Heaven.

“Apparently,” I explained, “he made the spontaneous decision to try to preserve her memories from being erased back when he transformed her into an angel. According to him, the memory wipe is usually an automatic thing, not something he does on purpose.” I paused, then said softly, “Did. Did on purpose. But with Zoe, he decided to interfere. He wasn’t sure if it would work. That was why he kept checking in with her, to see if his intervention had taken, if she might remember anything—or if what he’d done might have had negative side effects. For years, Zoe showed no signs of her memory still being there. Until she met me.”

Her eyes lowered to the floor, she murmured, “He really helped you more than I knew. More than any of us were aware of. I’m not sure if it makes up for the sins of his past?—”

“It does,” I said hoarsely. “At least for me. Knowing that without his interference, Zoe would never remember me, our history erased, our love lost, it balances all the scales. No pain I have suffered weighs heavier than my appreciation for having her back in my life. No slight dealt, no harm caused cancels the gift of having her look at me andknowwho I am, loving me for every part of me.” I shook my head, my nostrils flaring. “And he died never knowing that this makes all the difference to me. That this would have bridged the chasm of thousands of years of estrangement.”

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