Beezle let out a little caw of laughter. “That’s the understatement of the century. You’re going to feel like your head is being squeezed between two cast-iron pans wielded by a sumo wrestler.”
“Beezle, I don’t know where you get your similes but that is definitely conjuring up some weird imagery,” I said.
“It is not quite that bad,” Gabriel said.
“It will be for her,” Beezle snapped. “She’s half human; you’re not. Your body is designed to withstand this kind of rigor.”
For the first time Gabriel looked uncertain. “Surely my lord Azazel would have thought of this. He would not risk Madeline’s well-being.”
“I’m not certain that he wouldn’t,” Beezle said darkly.
I held both of my hands up in a “stop” motion. “All right, all right. Look, the more we stand here talking about it, the worse I feel. Let’s just get it over with. If my head gets squashed, then at least Ramuell won’t have a chance to eat me.”
“And that’s going to be a real comfort to me,” Beezle said, his face twisted up in unhappiness and anger.
“Beezle,” I said, and I crooked my finger at him. He flew to me and wrapped his little arms around my neck, and tears pricked in my eyes. He was the only creature in the world whom I had loved and who had loved me all those long years without my mother. “I will come back to you in one piece.”
“You’d better,” he sniffed. Then he pulled away and turned to Gabriel, pointing a claw in the half angel’s face. “If one hair of her head is harmed, I am holding you accountable.”
Gabriel swept into a bow. “I give you my word that I will keep her safe.”
Beezle looked as though he didn’t think too much of Gabriel’s word, but he nodded anyway and returned to his perch.
“My lady?” Gabriel said.
My heart was in my mouth so I just gave a frozen nod.
Gabriel said a few words in another language. It wasn’t the harsh syllables of the demons’ tongue, but something lovelier and more ethereal. As I listened, I felt that I could almost understand it, like the translation was just out of reach, tickling the back of my brain.
A moment later an opening appeared in the air before me, growing longer and wider quickly. The hole was filled with swirling white mist.
“Step inside,” Gabriel said.
I stepped inside.
Immediately my body was sucked forward as if into a vacuum tube. The skin of my face was pushed back until my teeth were bared. My lungs gasped for air. And yes, the pressure between my ears was so intense that it did feel like my head had been clamped between iron. All around me was wind and white mist, like I was caught inside a tornado.
All I wanted was for the pain to end. And abruptly it did. I tumbled out of the tornado and crashed onto a cold marble floor. Half a second later, Gabriel appeared beside me, stepping coolly out of the portal just before it closed.
“How come you didn’t crash?” I asked sulkily as he helped me to my feet.
“I have done this a few times,” he said, looking around as he spoke.
I followed suit. We had landed in some kind of antechamber, a small room with double doors at the east and west ends. The floor was black marble, the walls a stark white. There were no paintings, sculptures or decorations of any kind except on the doors. The doors were a heavy dark wood, polished to a high gloss. In the center of each set of doors was carved a large five-pointed star, and crossed over the star was a sword with a rose wrapped around its hilt. Outside the eastern set of doors was a small bench, with cherry legs and a red velvet cushion.
There was no one to greet us, and no movement from behind the doors. I felt a little tremor of nerves in my stomach. I was about to meet my father.
“I know it is not in your nature, but
“Afraid I’ll start a civil war?” I asked dryly.
“Something of that nature,” he said. “And you must not mention Evangeline unless you are alone with Lord Azazel. My lord has not revealed your visions to Lord Lucifer as of yet.”
“Why not?” I asked. “Isn’t that a little . . . seditious?”
“Quite probably,” Gabriel replied. “But Lord Azazel knows what he is about. He is understandably wary of drawing Lord Lucifer’s attention to you. Finally, you must not be too familiar with me when we enter the court.”
“Why not?”
“I am your inferior. It would be seen as an insult both to Lord Azazel and to yourself were I to behave as your equal.”
He sounded so matter-of-fact that it pissed me off. “You are not my inferior in any way.”
“To the Grigori, the fallen, the demonic, I am. This is a very different world you are about to enter, Madeline. Be careful where you tread.”
Just as he reached for the silver doorknob, the handle turned on its own. The door opened inward and a surprisingly familiar figure stepped out.
“You!” I cried. “What are you doing here?”
Ms. Greenwitch narrowed her eerie gray eyes at me. “I could ask the same of you, cursed one.”
I heard Gabriel’s sharp intake of breath beside me. “Whatever. I don’t really care why you’re here. You just keep the hell away from me.”
“Madeline,” Gabriel said in an undertone. “You must not be so disrespectful. She is ...”
“Disrespectful?” I said, my voice rising. “This crazy bitch blasted me for no apparent reason the last time I saw her.”
The door was slightly ajar behind Ms. Greenwitch and I heard a rustle of movement from inside.
“She did what?” Gabriel asked, looking from my furious face to Ms. Greenwitch’s stony one.
“She blasted me. I tried to shake her hand and she lost her mind. Those bruises I had on me the last time you healed me weren’t just from Ramuell.”
“Obviously I didn’t use enough power on you,” Ms. Greenwitch said icily. “I will take care to remedy that the next time.”
“Cease at once,” Gabriel hissed. “Both of you. Your lives are in danger if you continue this quarrel. Lady Greenwitch, this is Lord Azazel’s daughter.”
Greenwitch blanched. “What?
“I’m guessing you didn’t check my references thoroughly enough,” I said snidely.
“And Lady Greenwitch,” Gabriel said, turning to me, “is the mother of Lord Azazel’s only son, Antares.”
I was confused. How could this woman, witch or otherwise, be the mother of that monster? But anger overrode my curiosity.
“You’re Antares’s mother? You? You need to keep that jackass on a shorter leash,” I said, furious.
“Now do you see the danger?” Gabriel said to Greenwitch.
“I did not . . . I did not know,” Greenwitch said, her hand over her heart. “I had the vision . . . The vision I had did not show her origins, only her curse. Lord Azazel has always been careful to disguise her identity—I could not know!”
“Nevertheless,” a voice said behind her, a voice so melodic and beautiful that it made me dizzy to hear it. “You have broken the word of Lord Azazel, and so must be punished.”
The double doors swung open and revealed a crowd of about twenty people, all avidly listening to our conversation. At the forefront was a man so blindingly beautiful that I had to close my eyes and turn my head away for a moment. When I reopened them and turned back, his shine seemed to have dulled a bit, enough that I could look at him and the assemblage gathered behind him.
