Page 3 of The River of Hatred

Maalik, likely sensing the tension in the air, clears his throat loudly. “Welcome to Purgatory, Ithuriel. It’s been a long time.”

Sariel snorts and his voice fills the hallway that is the designated destination for waypoint or portal travel. “Longer since I’ve seen him, I’m sure. It’s almost like he’s been avoiding me.”

“I have been avoiding you,” I answer coolly, though his smile only widens. For several centuries, over a millennium ago, Sariel and I were inseparable, one never to be found without the other. When Sariel began voicing his desires to interact with mankind, I thought it was a phase, merely momentary curiosity.

The emotions his fall wrought within me were powerful and perilous to my standing in Heaven. It took centuries, but I made my peace with it eventually. Or so I thought. Seeing him here now… I’m once more suffused by a feeling of unexpected longing… mixed with betrayal. It hits me like a fist in the gut.

“Ahem.” The redhead clears her throat far more delicately than Maalik did. I glance at her, then back toward my once-friend, now casually rubbing his chin. My eyes, however, snap right back to the woman.

“You sold your soul,” I accuse. I see now that the woman is a descendant of a Nephalem, a rare child of angels and demons. I had vaguely known the angel Ariel who defected to be with a demon decades ago, but she was destroyed soon after. No child had been made known to us. At least those of us not in the highest tiers of Elysium. My eyes narrow at her. “And you… feel like an archdemon.”

She blushes then flutters the fingers of her left hand, palm facing inward, showing a ring made out of demonic steel, the corrupted brother of angelic steel, and fitted with a large amber stone. Upon closer examination, I can see hellfire burning within it. I recognize the power output in it. “That would be my husband you feel,” she says.

“Ashtaroth wed you?” My brows rise. This is unexpected.

Sariel snorts again and inserts himself into the conversation once more, making it impossible to ignore him. “Wedded and bedded,old friend.”

“You are not my friend,” I interject, but he ignores me and continues.

“Living with them is a nightmare, everything constantly reeks of sex – my dick is perpetually hard,” he finishes, winking at me.

I somehow manage to choke on my own inhaled breath. A coughing fit follows and my face turns crimson. This mortal form can be very inconvenient. I compose myself, studiously averting my gaze from that evil smirk. He always enjoyed shocking me, though I have never heard anything even remotely as crude as his words now were.

The Nephalem who sold her soul – a mostly pure and uncorrupted soul – to an archdemon she also wed is an oddity I will ponder on later. “Are you the Nephilim I’m to work with?” I ask the shorter of the women, the leather-clad blonde with what seems to be a curved scimitar sheathed at her hip.

She flushes at my attention, her lashes fluttering with anxious blinks. Perhaps I’m the first Heavenly angel she has ever seen? Yes, that is likely why I unsettle her.

“T-that’s me,” she stutters and somehow manages to flush a deeper shade of red. My gaze is drawn to the way her downcast eyes show off her long pale lashes. I expect Sariel to make an inappropriate remark about her bashful behavior. When he doesn’t, I allow myself to look at him again. A chill skitters down my spine at the intense calculating look he aims at the back of the girl’s head. I frown at him and he must sense my attention – his depthless black eyes snap to mine and his face rearranges itself into an unaffected, slightly mocking mien.

“We wanted to send Liam with you, Ithuriel, but he managed to shatter his tibia just yesterday. He’ll be out of commission for a few weeks. Jessica is just as skilled, however,” Maalik says, making the girl’s nervous smile twitch.

“I’ll be there to look after them anywho,” Sariel chirps enthusiastically.

“What?” I say at the same time as the tall woman with an archdemon’s signature does. Jessica’s eyes bounce between the four of us.

“Is this why you insisted on coming with me?” The demon’s bride says through gritted teeth.

“No,” Sariel replies pleasantly. “I was curious who they’d send. Besides, I wanted to fuck with Kevin a bit. Not literally, of course.” He grins at the angry woman, showing off plenty of even white teeth. I don’t know what relationship they have, or who this Kevin is, but they seem to be close. Perhaps, they are as close as we once were… I send the thought off with irritation, focusing on present matters.

“We do not require your assistance,” I snap at him, then instantly regret any show of emotion as his eyes widen in triumph.

“Consider me Hell’s contribution to the mission.” His smile slips into a look of fury I don’t understand. “Also, I was the one present when those filthy humans under Belial’s influence incinerated Armaros. I have the right to join.”

I freeze. “Armaros is gone?” The fallen angel was another member of the younger generation of angels. He fell with the Watchers, centuries after Sariel. I did not even know they found each other here in the Underworld, let alone that he was the Fallen burned by those humans under Belial’s orders. They never shared the angel’s name.

Sariel’s face twists with disgust. “You never even bothered to find out if it was a friend that died?”

I’m unsure if he meant the possibility of it being him or if we are still talking about Armaros. Regardless, I’m the one to flush this time. I don’t answer him, having no words that wouldn’t potentially inflame the situation further. Maalik, Jessica, and the now confused redhead just observe us quietly.

Sariel shakes his head at my silence. “I’ll be right back,” he tells Maalik. To his female friend, he says, “Don’t get into trouble, Lana, or Ash will eviscerate me for leaving you alone.”

She hisses at him. “I’m stronger than you are now, dickcheese!” But Sariel already disappeared before the crude words left her lips. It seemsheis strong enough to use the ether for travel.

Chapter 2 – Jessica

My eyes bounce between the dark-haired fallen angel, Sariel, and the actual real-life angel, Ithuriel, as they argue over whether the former should join our mission. We’re sitting at the huge table in the meeting room, Sariel and Lana across from Ithuriel, and Daniel, Maalik and I at the head.

“I don’t even know where to begin with questioning your motives, Sariel.” While Ithuriel is the most composed being I’ve ever seen, even more composed than Lana’s scary husband Ashtaroth, he seems just the tiniest bit on edge, his voice wavering in a way that’s barely perceptive.

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