Page 37 of Obsession

A servant pops his head in and announces dinner is served. We move to the dining room and Zazel has a seat at the head of the table. The chef presents our plates, his 666 tattoo hard to miss. Deals with devils is all I can tell him. My chaote ex-boyfriend is also working off his servitude for Zazel, but I’ve never asked what that specifically entails. Perhaps it’s best I not know the details of Todd’s servitude. Plausible deniability, and all that.

“Thank you, chef,” Zazel announces. The man bows and takes his leave. “Now, on to the matter at hand. I have a little project for you two.”

Damion sighs in my mind; I’m not sure he meant for me to hear that.

What’s wrong? I ask.

Nothing.

I think that weighted sigh was a something.

“I want you to look into a missing artifact. A scythe,” Zazel continues, snapping our attention back to him.

“What’s so special about a scythe?” I ask.

“Legend has it this scythe came from the Garden of Eden,” Zazel explains with a twinkle in his black, soulless eyes.

“So the Garden of Eden was a real place. Did you ever see it?” I ask excitedly as I take a bite of salmon.

“I’ve seen many gardens in my existence that could easily be described as paradise.” I figured the tricky demon wouldn’t give me a straight answer, but it was worth a shot. “The scythe belongs to the angel Azrael. He’s asked for help in retrieving it.”

“Why would an angel want a demon’s help? No offense,” I quickly amend.

Zazel smiles. “None taken. Because Azrael is keeping this little snafu hidden from Metratron.” Having been called to Metratron’s office once myself, I can understand why. “You two meet with Azrael tomorrow and he’ll catch you up to speed.”

“Of course, Father,” Damion answers for us. Sure, I’ll pencil in a meeting with the Angel of Death on my calendar. How did my life get so weird?

“Wonderful. So tell me, Aubry, what philosophical topic should we discuss?” Zazel asks, a bemused smile on his face.

“Not a philosophical topic, but I do have a question.”

“Just one?” Damion teases.

“Fine, call me curious.” Wasn’t that Eve’s excuse? As if on cue, the chef appears, taking our plates and announcing the dessert course—apple Bavarian torte with Chantilly cream. That’s a pass. I’ve got all the knowledge of good and evil that I’ll ever need, thanks. “What happens to rogue angels who kill humans?” I ask Zazel. Okay, maybe not all the knowledge.

“Ah, so you’re inquiring about Eiael,” he says with a wry smile.

“How do you know about Eiael?” I demand. We never involved Zazel in our quest to find Maddie’s killer, because Damion warned there would be too many strings. Looking at the sexy demons before me, I’m still trying to figure out their dynamic. I get the feeling my boyfriend is leery of his father becoming too involved in our lives, but I don’t know why.

“Eiael has been eternally locked out of the earthly realm,” he says, not answering my question. “The angel Cornelius has already taken over as the new Angel of Occult Knowledge.”

“Let’s hope this one isn’t also a megalomaniac,” I grumble.

“Most immortals are,” Zazel answers unapologetically. Well if that isn’t straight out of the horse’s mouth.

Chapter 17

Waking to find my bed empty the next morning, I follow the smell of coffee to the kitchen. “This puzzle isn’t going to put itself together.” Damion floats a piece to the correct spot as a cup of coffee appears in my hands.

“Now you’re just showing off,” I grumble. Taking a seat beside him, I grab a puzzle piece and search for its home. “Elvis, what do you think? Our puzzle skills up to snuff?” I ask, enjoying my smooth, dark roast coffee with a splash of cream, exactly how I like it. My demon is far too smooth for his own good.

Elvis looks up from his bowl of cat food and immediately returns to eating his breakfast. “He says he’s impressed by my skills. Yours, not so much,” Damion says.

“I didn’t know you were fluent in grumpy cat.”

“Part of my PhD in wanton witch studies.”

“B.S. in Cambion BS. I’m going to get ready,” I say, standing and walking to my bathroom.

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