Halo Of Horns

TWELVE

Azazel purposely disregarded Lucifer's meeting and was enjoying himself in the quiet of the library. He could still feel the prickled tingles on the palm of his hand where each of his strikes landed on Irina's plump bottom. Her soft, milky white skin marked black and blue by his touch. He wondered if there would be handprints in the morning.

He would have to find a reason to punish her again soon.

More than likely she would accidentally give him a reason, but a reason was a reason all the same.

Dante's 'Divine Comedy' sat open in his lap, the standing candelabra behind him casting a yellow glow on the pages. A comedy it was indeed. The human interpretation of Hell was so novel; so intriguing and unique. They get so close yet so far. They believe whatever anyone would tell them and whatever that stupid book they wrote says.

Sure, Azazel had given the Bible a glance, but most of it was rubbish.

Bending the Lords word to match their own will was very typical of humans but he couldn't entirely blame them either. God did not make it easy for them.

Azazel rolled his eyes and brought his cigar to his lips, holding it between his teeth so he could readjust his sitting position. As he lifted his leg to settle it over his knee, he heard small feet padding down the hallway at a frantic rate.

Small feet that could only belong to one person.

"Why is she out of bed?" He grumbled, angry with the disruption.

He could very easily ignore her, but the sound of her heartbeat projected through his ears, sounding closer than it actually was. He could smell the salt in her sweat when she ran by the library doors and the sweet addictive trail she left behind only called him further.

Setting the book down, making sure it remained open so he wouldn't lose his place, he followed. Staying close to the wall, and remaining as much in the shadows as possible he stopped just around the corner when he heard Asmodeus blabbing about getting Lucifer.

He had no personal intentions of soothing the obviously distraught young woman, but he also didn't want any of his brothers to either. The thought of any one of them touching her, consoling her- made his blood burn. His talons dug into his palms and he took a deep breath through his flared nostrils to calm himself.

"Where is Azazel?" He heard her whisper, when her father arrived by her side.

So unsure. So afraid.

He didn't need to see her to know that her blue eyes were wide, searching around in terror. The same way she looked at him earlier that night.

"I don't know. He wasn't at the meeting so I-"

Azazel didn't bother listening to the rest of what Lucifer had to say about him. It was meaningless garbage. What he was most interested in, was why Irina was searching for him.

He didn't notice he was smiling, a stupid smirk pulling at his cheeks from the provocative thought.

"Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?" Lucifer asked carefully like his voice was gliding over thin ice. His hand brushed through his daughter's hair, soothing her erratic heartbeat with his calm touch.