Az’s face softened, he smiled down at Gabe, and he leaned in to kiss him. By the time he lifted his head up, Gabe noticed Az had pants on.
Gabe glowered a bit. “If you can magic pants on that fast, you’d think you could magic our clothesoffthat easily too,” he grumped.
Az full out belly laughed at that. “Yes, I could,” he replied, “but seeing you strip and seeing your face when I strip ismuchmore fun.”
Az then looked toward Kushiel, and Gabe followed his glance. The angel (maybe—Gabe still wasn’t convinced) had a slightly odd look on his face, but he didn’t look hostile. It was more like he was confused.
Az strode over, grabbed a chair, and sat down across from Kushiel, a genuine smile on his face. Gabe also noticed the horns, wings, and tail were gone. He kind of missed them, but he figured this was another good sign. Surely he’d be in his full demonic form if he was threatened.
“It’s amazing how many afterlifers I’ve run into while topside!” Az joked. “What brings you here, Kushiel?” He seemed to take a closer look at Kushiel’s face then, noticing the serious expression that had overtaken the befuddled one.
Az absently reached his hand back towards Gabe, and Gabe grabbed onto it. Az then pulled Gabe over to him and onto his lap. Gabe gave a little oomph as he landed, but he got himself comfy and glared at Kushiel.
“Yes, what brings you intomyhome uninvited and unsummoned?” Gabe repeated.
Kushiel smirked a bit at that. “I’m an angel. I don’t get summoned,” he retorted.
Gabe rolled his eyes, wishing again for the one eyebrow raise. “You haven’t met Grams,” he snorted. “Perhaps you can’t be summoned, but you can certainly be called forth to duty, and you haven’t been.”
Kushiel’s eyes widened at the phrasing, and Gabe raised both his eyebrows.That’s right, sketchy angel guy,Gabe thought, I know a thing or two about angels.
Az spoke from behind him, and Gabe leaned back into him as he heard a bit of caution enter his voice. “Yes, Kushiel, whatareyou doing here in Gabe’s kitchen?”
“How do you know each other?” Gabe interrupted. He couldn’t help the question; in his experience, angels and demons did not mix with another.
“Ah,” Az replied, wrapping his arms around Gabe. Gabe had a moment to wonder about the physics of it all, because his kitchen chairs were not really big enough for both of them, but he let that thought go as Az started to explain.
“Kushiel is one of the very few angels, perhaps even the only one, now that I think about it, to be able to go upstairs as well as to the underworld. He is the Angel of Punishment, and although he spends most of his time in Limbo, he occasionally pops into the underworld to check on some soul who might be redeemed. It is rare, but redemption does happen,” Az finished.
The gray color and black wings made sense, then. Kushiel was an angel, but it looked like he was somewhat fallen. Gabe also found it highly interesting that Kushiel himself had not answered the question, and he made no move to agree or disagree with Az’s statement. Gabe wondered if there was something hidden there.
“We have known each other for centuries. Nay, even longer,” Az noted. “I consider him a friend. Hopefully I am not mistaken in that consideration,” he added.
Kushiel searched Az’s face before looking back at Gabe. He placed his hands on the table, palms face down and flattened. It seemed like a gesture of some sort, but Gabe wasn’t sure what it meant.
“It seems I am often in the way of misplaced souls as of late,” Kushiel announced, and there was some meaning to his words that Gabe simply could not suss out.
Az’s arms tightened, however, and he answered, “Gabe isnota misplaced soul. He is exactly where he needs to be, alive and topside.”
Kushiel looked down at his hands before looking back up at Az. “I was not talking about your human, Az,” Kushiel said softly. “I was talking about you.”
Chapter22
Asmodeus
Az stared at Kushiel, utterly perplexed.
“I am not a mortal soul,” he uttered, his arms linking more tightly around Gabe. He hadn’t been thinking clearly at first, just happy to see what he assumed was a friendly face. Gabe had known, though—it couldn’t be good news to have an angel in his kitchen.
“I did not say mortal,” Kushiel replied, still formally. “I said misplaced.”
“I am not a soul. I’m a demon,” Az insisted. Souls were how they referred to their charges. It was always the mortals who were the souls, never the angels and demons. There was no choice for them of heaven or hell, reincarnation or ghosthood; there was only endless existence; there was only their role in the afterlife—it was all they had ever known.
“What is a soul but the immortal essence of a mortal being? Simply because we are immortal to begin with does not mean we lack that essence. Are we not separate and distinct from one another, each with our roles to play? Perhaps our souls were mapped before time became reality, but still they exist,” Kushiel explained.
Az stared at Kushiel, the angel’s hands flat on the table. He would not be calling for help or signaling anyone, he was making that clear, and yet Az understood there was some message here, some idea that he was supposed to be grasping.
“I am not misplaced,” Az stated firmly, focusing on the other aspect of Kushiel’s statement. “I was summoned. I am fulfilling that summoning. Such is the role of demons, if we are to speak of roles.”
