Christina Henry: Black Night

“Oh, that wasn’t the Maze. That was something else,” I said, not wanting to get into it. Somehow I had a feeling that all the men in the room would think worse of Samiel if they knew he had chopped off two of my fingers. “Listen, are you strong enough to heal Gabriel? He’s in a pretty bad way.”

Nathaniel looked like the request did not thrill him, but he did as I asked. He seemed different now, somehow humbled. I wondered if it would take or if he would go back to being a pain in my butt once he returned to Azazel’s court.

I desperately wanted to sit down, to rest, but I needed to get out of Amarantha’s court more than I needed sleep. I asked J.B. to get us a car while I packed up.

Nathaniel managed to produce some clothing for Gabriel and Samiel to wear, since they were both clad in nothing but a strip of cloth across their privates.

Samiel seemed bewildered by the mechanics of putting a shirt on over his wings, and Nathaniel was oddly patient while he showed Samiel how to fold his wings through the openings in the back. Samiel was built on a wider, more muscular scale than Nathaniel so the clothing strained at the seams.

Fifteen minutes later all of us, including J.B., were squished in a car with Amarantha’s half-troll driver. I didn’t ask why J.B. was leaving with us when it was his mother’s court and she could probably use his support. I understood wanting to get away from a parent. It was exactly how I felt whenever Azazel was around.

I could tell that they all wanted to ask me what had happened in the Maze. Five pairs of eyes looked at me expectantly, but now that we were finally seeing the back of Amarantha and the stupid faerie court I felt myself drifting off to sleep.

“Will someone call Azazel and tell him where to find Antares?” I mumbled, and then I went out.

The next thing I knew Gabriel lifted me from the car. The night air was cold, and I shivered as it touched my skin. I was still wearing a sleeveless shirt and cutoff pants—not exactly appropriate for winter in Chicago.

Samiel and Beezle got out with us, and I indicated to Gabriel that he should put me down. I stuck my head inside the open car door and saw J.B. and Nathaniel glaring at each other. Nathaniel’s face was bruised and both eyes blackened.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing for you to be concerned with,” Nathaniel said curtly. “I will speak with you soon, Madeline.”

“Uh, okay,” I said. I looked at J.B. “See you soon?”

“Now that your little adventure in the court is over, you’re back on the clock, Black,” he said. “So expect to see your usual letter with your pickups tomorrow.”

“All right, Cranky,” I said, slamming the door. What happened to the sweetheart I’d known at the faerie court? He was back to being J. B. Bennett, world’s worst boss.

The driver had dropped us in the same place he’d picked us up—the alley. The car pulled away and Samiel meekly followed Gabriel and me through the backyard and up to the porch. Nathaniel had been as good as his word. A shiny new door hung in place of the one he had torn out of its frame. It was probably a lot nicer (read: more expensive) than one I would have bought myself. This one was actually properly insulated and weather-stripped and everything. And bonus—Nathaniel had been smart enough to make the new lock fit my old key.

I glanced questioningly at Beezle as we all headed up the stairs.

“What’s up with Nathaniel’s face?”

“You were crying out in your sleep,” Beezle said. “And all the men in the car interpreted those cries correctly. Well, Gabriel and J.B. did. I’m pretty sure Samiel thought it looked like fun to hit Nathaniel because everyone else was.”

I felt my face redden in embarrassment. I had not wanted Gabriel to know about Nathaniel’s attempted assault on me. He didn’t say anything as we entered the apartment, and I wondered why he was being so cold all of a sudden. I realized he had barely said a word to me since Nathaniel had healed him.

I dropped my bag in the kitchen and slumped into one of the dining room chairs. “I feel like I could eat a whole pig.”

“Barbecue sounds good,” Beezle said hopefully.

I thought about the tiny amount of money in my checking account that was not Azazel’s. We could probably order out but we wouldn’t have much left over for anything else important until I got a paying job again. On the other hand, I wasn’t capable of cooking anything more strenuous than toast at the moment.

“Bring me the phone,” I sighed.

Beezle clapped his hands together in delight and flew to the portable phone. Gabriel and Samiel watched me in silence. It was eerie. Neither of them looked like Ramuell, thank goodness, so they didn’t resemble each other as siblings. But they wore identical expressions of expectation.

“What are you going to do about Samiel?” Gabriel asked.

“He can live here,” I said.

“And how are you going to explain that to Lord Lucifer and Lord Azazel?” Gabriel replied. “At the very least, he should be brought before the courts for the crime of releasing Ramuell.”

I’d kind of forgotten about that. “Technically, I suppose, he was responsible. But you know that it was Ariell who was controlling him and Ramuell both.”

Gabriel shook his head stubbornly. “The Grigori will not see it that way. He released Ramuell and created portals to draw the nephilim back. He was responsible for his own actions.”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that I should throw Samiel to the wolves? Don’t you have any compassion at all? Azazel successfully argued to spare your life when you were a baby. Why wouldn’t I be able to do the same for Samiel?” I couldn’t believe he was acting like this. Samiel was his half brother, for crying out loud.

“I was innocent when Azazel saved me. Samiel has committed a crime. That compounds the sin of his birth. He must go before the assembly of the Grigori to face judgment,” Gabriel said.

Samiel watched this argument avidly. I wasn’t sure how much of it he was getting but I already suspected that he was a pretty adept lip-reader. His eyes were wide as he turned his head back and forth between Gabriel and me.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight about this?” I said angrily. “You know I would never consent to such a thing. Samiel stays here with us. End of story.”

“No, it is not the end of the story. I have told you time and again that you do not comprehend Lucifer’s kingdom. His law and his word are absolute. There is no flexing of the rules. Samiel must pay for his crimes.”

Gabriel was white as the moon as he said this, and the corners of his eyes looked tight. Something else was going on.

“This is not about Samiel,” I said. “What the hell crawled up your butt and died? You’d think you’d be happy and grateful that I saved your ass from being used by Amarantha for all eternity.”

“I am indeed happy and grateful, mistress,” Gabriel said tightly.

“What’s with the mistress business?” I said.

“I was Azazel’s thrall until I was taken by Samiel and given to Focalor. Then I was Focalor’s thrall. Then I was Amarantha’s thrall. You have won me from the Maze as your prize; therefore, I am now your thrall,” he shouted.

I looked at him in dawning comprehension. “You belong to me now.”

“Yes.”

I shrugged, relieved that this was all he was upset about. “So I’ll free you, and that’s that taken care of. No big.”

Gabriel stalked forward, his eyes an exploding field of stars on a canvas of black. “You do not understand. It is like you deliberately choose not to understand. How many times must I tell you that Lucifer’s law is the only law? I am a thrall in his kingdom; therefore I am always a thrall. You cannot free me. Only Lucifer can do that.”