Page 68 of The River of Hatred

I hear rustling, then feel Sariel’s other hand on my cheek, wiping away my tears.

“I saw how you grew to resent me,” I finish in a barely audible whisper.

“But I never stopped loving you,” he says with feeling, making me open my eyes again.

I shake my head. “If love erased hate, there would be no wars.” My voice sounds as despondent as I feel.

“But me growing the fuck up and pulling my head out of my ass does.” I wince at his colorful vocabulary.

“What do you mean?” I ask, a hint of hope lightening the burden in my heart.

“Blaming you for me falling in love with you was asinine,” he explains. “My Fall? It wasmychoice.” He clenches his jaw, the muscles of his cheek jumping with the tension. “Everything that followed was my choice. You were and still are the Ithuriel I fell in love with in Heaven.”

My tears are flowing freely, too fast for the Fallen to wipe them away. Though, should I still be calling him that now? What am I if not Fallen myself – I have fallen for the two beings in this bed, the three of us covered in each other’s fluids.

“What about Jessica?” I ask, thinking of our mortal heart. “Was she merely a part of your plan to ruin me?”

The corner of Sariel’s mouth twists up into that wry grin I love, though with an edge of pain. “Well, obviously I failed at not getting attached to her too. She’s not going anywhere,” he adds with force, looking down at the Nephilim.

“Good,” the sleepy girl murmurs, making us both chuckle.

“Do you always merely pretend to be asleep?” I ask her, shaking my head in exasperation.

She smirks, not bothering to open her eyes as she replies: “How else would I see or hear all the good stuff?”

I flush thinking of how she caught me making love to Sariel in Paris, her hand already between her thighs before we noticed she was awake.

“I’ll tell Aim he’s gonna be out of a job as a spymaster soon,” Sariel jokes before laying his head on her stomach and wrapping himself around her.

Sighing, I kiss her cheek and place my head on the pillow next to hers. “Get some rest, dear heart,” I tell her, then close my own eyes to meditate on Sariel’s words.

Will facing the consequences of my actions and emotions be easier knowing I have both in my corner, irrevocably? We will have to see once I am faced with Saraqael and my peers.

Chapter 33 – Ashtaroth

“We are meant to take the word of your assassin, Ashtaroth?”

I do not have time to respond before Heaven returns the volley.

“If Ithuriel attests to it, then it is true.”

“Right, because Heaven would lose sleep over the potentially unnecessary destruction of a demon lord.”

“We will not sit here and listen to this.”

I rub my forehead. Suffering from a migraine should not be possible for me, yet here we are. I have been listening to this back and forth between Heaven and Hell for hours – hours I spent away from my lamb, hours during which she is somewhere I cannot reach. As my son would say, I am thoroughly and completelyover it.

“Silence,” I say quietly, though they all hear. Even the angels cease their murmurings. “It was my court which suffered the most following Belial’s schemes,” I continue. I look at the archangel Saraqael before speaking again. “Do not allow a loss such as that of Armaros to repeat itself merely because you prefer to argue the point for decades before acting.”

The angel’s golden hair glints in the firelight as he slightly tilts his head, the only reaction he allows.

“Andras is Asmodai’s lieutenant,” Marbas states. “How do we know he is not acting on his orders?”

I bare my teeth at the idiot. “My brother has been with Sataniel for two years, he is not leading any petty revolutions.”

“So you have said,” Cassiel from Heaven’s side chimes in. “How do we know this is not an elaborate demonic coup?”

I grit my teeth at the sheer stupidity of that question. I take a moment to compose myself before speaking again. “If this was a scheme, would I be here invoking the Council’s intervention?”

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