My Lord's Judgment (6 page)

Brandon wrenched away. “Stop babying me, and
start talking. Now.”

“Alright, just try to stay calm.” The glare
he was shot was sharper and more deadly than the Demon Dagger.

Samael took a deep fortifying breath himself,
let it out in a huff and talked. He told Bran about angels and
demons, Heaven and Hell; explained to him about the war that had
been raging for millennia. Confessed who he was, and in detail
retold the story he’d given the man earlier about what happened to
him, including the fact that Gadreel wasn’t really his brother, but
a fellow angel.

He was surprised it went as well as it did.
Brandon just sat there staring at him, as if he had grown a second
head. One with nice shiny horns on top.

He disclosed everything he could think of,
rambling at some points, sometimes veering sharply off one subject
to start another, just letting it all come out the way it would.
Allowing the chips to fall where they may. He hadn’t been fearful
of much in his long life, he’d had no need; but he was afraid
now.

It was more than a fear of being alone,
although that was there too. He was scared that Brandon would get
hurt, and he just…wanted him. He wanted to be in his life, needed
to feel his acceptance. No one had ever received him that way
before, and he would be devastated to lose it now.

Bran made things exciting. He was considerate
and selfless, almost to a fault. He had undeniable spirit. He was
good and kind, sweet and funny, and Sam was very attracted to him,
inside and out. More than all of that, Bran really saw him and
seemed to approve of what he’d seen. Samael could not imagine
having to dwell on Earth knowing Brandon, but unable to be around
him. Not speak to him. Never to touch him again.

The idea was killing him.

Finally, he stopped. He’d told his Little
Raven all he could. Now it was up to him.

Brandon was staring at his fingers, which
were laced in his lap. Folding and unfolding them repeatedly. Sam
could see the wheels turning in his head, so he allowed him to
think. Just sitting there quietly, awaiting another judgment. Not
knowing what would come. When Bran finally spoke, it was so soft
Sam had to strain to hear.

“You know, about a half an hour ago, if you
would’ve told me all of that, I would’ve laughed in your face. I
would never have believed it.” He glanced up, his eyes half hidden
behind his hair. “Seeing a man sprout wings and fly away has a way
of changing things, I guess.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his
head. Then he was quiet again for a few moments, gazing into the
distance.

“Maybe I’ve gone crazy,” he whispered
finally. He turned back to Samael, giving him that look that he had
come to cherish. The one that only Brandon had ever gifted him.
“Call in the white coats and get me a strait jacket, because I
think…I think, I believe you. I want to believe you, Sammy.”

Samael’s shoulders slumped in relief. He
grabbed Brandon’s hand and squeezed. He could feel tears stinging
his eyes, so he looked away, sniffed hard and blinked a couple of
times – getting himself under control.

“Thank you, My Little Raven,” he said,
gruffly. “Thank you.”

Bran knew he was giving his trust away too
easily again. He knew it was stupid, and probably setting him up
for a nice tasty helping of crap, but he wanted to believe in Sam.
So, he was taking the leap of faith, hoping at the end that he
wouldn’t find a bed of nails.

“So, who was that guy?” Brandon asked.

“That was Leviathan, the demon of envy. He
goes by the name Levi in human form. He’s one of Gadreel’s
cronies.” There was something in Sammy’s eyes when he talked about
this Gadreel guy. Something dark and dangerous, that Bran didn’t
want to look at too closely.

“But I thought…I thought that Satan
controlled the demons?” he said in confusion. Nothing about this
made sense. Not that Brandon was a big theology buff, but a lot of
what Sam had told him didn’t mesh with what he’d heard over the
years.

“Yeah. Sometimes, but at other times they do
things for themselves, or for their friends or allies. Think about
it like this: when someone employs you, they are your boss. Your
employer gives you assignments during certain times of the day.
Your free time is yours, and you may spend it doing things you
enjoy, or helping your friend move, whatever you wish. That’s
basically how demon structure functions. Satan will give them
assignments. Once completed, they can do whatever they wish to
do.”

“Oh.” Okay. Bran got that. That Levi guy was
doing a friend a favor during his ‘time off.’ That favor just
happened to be spying on Samael.

“What did he mean….about my father?”

“I do not know.” Samael’s eyebrows drew
together. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough though.”

That was true. If what Levi said was right,
then his father was coming for him. Whatever the hell that
meant.

“What now?” He hoped Sammy had a plan,
because he was lost in la-la-lupty-land. Trying to get his bearings
in this new world that had opened up to him was taking all his
brain activity.

“Now? We shall go visit your Ex, and try to
talk him out of some money.” Sam said decisively. “Anything else,
we’ll deal with as it comes.”

“Okay.” Bran nodded and stood. “Okay.” His
legs were wobbly and he felt as if the ground kept shifting on him,
like in the funhouse at the fair. He took a step and stumbled,
falling. Before he could catch himself, he was aware of strong arms
wrapping around him, leaning him on a wide, muscular chest. He
looked up and right into the dark blue abyss that was Samael’s
eyes.

“I’ve got you.” Sammy said softly. “I will
not allow you to fall.”

Brandon shifted his gaze to Sam’s firm,
masculine lips, which were getting ever closer. He leaned up to
meet them, finally kissing the most fascinating man he’d ever
met.

Of course, he’s fascinating. He’s an angel.
Or was an angel. Or…huh?

When their mouths met, it was electric. It
was barely skin on skin, it was so gentle, but it was as if one of
them had walked across carpet with slippers on and then touched
metal. He was shocked, but it was so good that Bran let out a
guttural moan and every thought that had been floating through his
brain went away. There was nothing but Sammy and this kiss.

It was over far too soon, Sam pulling away to
study him. The awe and wonder was back, all over his face, and it
made Bran smile. The man in his arms smiled right back at him, and
his breath became trapped in his lungs at the sight.
Damn!

Some of the tension that had been radiating
around his body left him, and he felt lighter. He knew somehow that
everything would be okay. Somehow, it would all work out.
Because Sammy has me, and he’s not going to let me fall.

“Let’s get out of here.” Sam said, making
sure Bran was steady before stepping back and capturing Bran’s hand
in his own.

The whole walk to the car, they held hands.
It was probably meant to make sure he didn’t do a face plant in the
parking lot, but he didn’t care. He liked it. He liked it a
lot.

Samael was
possessive and protective. Who knew? The entire drive to Brandon’s
Ex, he kept stewing. He did not want his Little Raven around that
imbecile. Part of it was that he did not want him to get hurt
again, but the other part was that Bran was his.

Chris had put his hands on Brandon, had
touched him, kissed him… hurt him. Sam was seeing red. He knew he
was being irrational, and jealous, but he could not control it.
He’d never had anything to be jealous about before, so this was a
very new feeling for him. One he didn’t completely understand, and
was having a difficult time facing. By the time they reached the
house, he was ready to rip the man’s arms off and beat him to death
with them.

It probably wasn’t a bad way to feel. With
what Bran had told him, retrieving the money was not going to be
effortless. They were about to have a showdown. Therefore, the fact
that he was pumped up and ready to face a legion of demons, was
probably a blessing. He just hoped he didn’t get carried away and
seriously injure the human.

Yes, he was human now too, but he had been a
warrior and the harbinger of death for eons. It was instinct.
Ingrained in him. Granted, he was weaker and slower than he had
been. He was without his powers and could not use his wings as a
shield or weapon, but that was not going to aid someone who did not
know the first thing about battle.

He had to keep his head.

They walked together to the front door and he
watched as Brandon knocked, trying to control the buzz
reverberating through him; trying to cool the blood that was
pounding in his ears.

After the third series of knocks, the door
flew inward and a loud “What?” was shouted at them. When the man
stepped into the frame, both he and Samael just gawked at each
other for a moment, open mouthed.

Sam moved first, pushing Bran behind him and
wedging his foot in the path of the door, while smacking it with
his hand, to prevent it from closing. There was a struggle over it
for a minute; until finally Samael unsheathed the Demon Dagger from
the holster Brandon had purchased for him, and laid it against the
demon’s neck, while caging him against the doorframe.

He could hear Brandon yelling in the
background, but ignored him.

“Asmodeus? Fancy meeting you here.” Sam
narrowed his eyes on the demon. “I wouldn’t move too quickly if I
were you.”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Samael?”
His mouth was pressed into a thin line and he kept glancing at the
hilt of the weapon.

“Funny, I was just wondering the same thing
about you.”

Brandon had quieted and was looking back and
forth between them, trying to understand. “Chris? You two know each
other? Wait, Sam, what did you call him?”

“He called me Asmodeus, my tasty little
morsel - for that is my name.” The demon grinned at Bran before
focusing again on the danger.

“Bran, this is Asmodeus, the demon of lust.
A…you know Brandon. Now that the introductions have been made, I
want answers.
You
are going to provide them for me.” The
buzz humming through Sam was getting stronger and he took strength
from it, used it to focus.

Asmodeus leered at him. “You look good Sam.
Why don’t you come in, and we’ll have a …hmmm…
chat
.” He
waggled his eyebrows and licked his lips, and Samael felt sick.

“I don’t think so. I'm perfectly fine right
here. What’s going on, A?”

“You know I can’t tell y….” he started, only
to cut off with a hiss as Samael pushed the blade tighter against
his throat.

“Not what I want to hear. What is wanted with
Brandon? Why the entire pretense about money? Tell me!”

“His father. His father wants him, so he set
up a situation where Brandon would have no choice.” Asmodeus was
sweating, filling Sam’s nostrils with the stink of his fear. He
never was one for fighting. Mental manipulation and sex were his
strengths.

“Who? Give me a name.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t. I’ve already told
you too much.” Samael drew the dagger in closer, barely breaking
skin, but A just closed his eyes and prepared for the deathblow.
Only two things stopped him from delivering it: he didn’t want to
have to explain why he killed a demon when he had been denounced -
it wasn’t considered his business anymore - and Brandon was
standing behind him. He didn’t want him to see that

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen
very closely, Asmodeus. You will call this drug dealer and see to
this problem. You will ensure his harassment of Brandon ceases
immediately. Then you shall spread the word that Bran is
off-limits. Inform whom you must. If I catch you, his father, or
any other demons around him, I shall destroy you all. Do you
understand? You know I am able, Asmodeus—and I
will
. This is
no idle threat. You have seen me in action. I am permitting you one
free pass. If there is the occasion that I see you again, it will
be the last time, because you will be subsisting in the Seventh
level of Hell for the whole of eternity. Understood?” By the time
the last words had left Sam’s lips, his voice was a low growl and
he was emitting serious pressure on the blade in his hand,
practically leaning on A to do it. One movement and the demon was
finished.

Asmodeus kept his eyes closed and stood
there, frozen. “Yes, yes. I got it. I got it,” he whispered, barely
moving his mouth.

Samael released the demon and backed away,
latching onto Brandon’s arm as he went. He kept his eyes on his
enemy until the door had shut, before finally turning and hustling
Bran toward the car.

Brandon had stepped into the fucking Rabbit
hole. Hell, stepped? He’d dove in headfirst. He kept waiting for a
cat to materialize out of thin air, and start making smart-ass
comments. He wouldn’t be surprised. Nothing could bring that
emotion out of him right now. Any emotion, really.

He felt numb. Empty. His limbs were made of
lead and his head filled with cotton. He was in shock.

Samael guided him around the car and into the
driver’s seat, before walking around and getting in himself. When
Bran just sat there staring off into space, Sam touched his arm and
started talking to him. Not that he heard any of it.

Okay, the earthquake could stop anytime.
Really. “Brandon, look at me.” Oh, he was the one shaking, not
California. “Look at me!”

He did as he was told, and saw concern and
fear in Sammy’s eyes, but
he
didn’t feel anything. His body
was no longer his own.

“Can you drive? Hey, Bran? Can you drive the
car?”

Bran stared at him moment longer before
nodding.