Page 69 of The Morning Star
“He might abandon the idea of a traditional battle for something more scattershot,” Uriel pointed out. “They’re spread out, large groups in key cities and others here and there to test our lines and report back. And we still need to decide whether we need to close the gates or not.”
“I think we need to close them,” Raphael said. “Lock him down to just the one in Seattle. That way he doesn’t hit us when our back is turned by bringing another ten thousand demons through Copenhagen or somewhere.”
Everyone stared soberly at the map.
“That’s a lot of energy to expend,” Gregory commented. “He’s already got thirty thousand here. Does he truly have more to call on from Hel? Exactly how many demons could we expect if he decides to mobilize every single one of his supporters?”
I swallowed hard, ashamed that I had so little control over my own people. “Hel has roughly a hundred thousand demons, give or take. Many of those are Lows, and quite a few are uninterested in fighting. Sex demons, greed demons, gormands—they’ll be happy to swoop in after the fighting to loot, but most of them don’t get their jollies off on battle. And my intel says he’s got all the Ancients supporting him that he’s gonna get. The others are taking a wait-and-see approach and are likely to continue to hold back. So I’d say he might have no more than a few thousand extra demons he could call upon.”
“Then let’s leave the gates open but guarded,” Gabriel said. “I’ll ask the humans for military support in those locations to provide assistance to the Grigori.”
“How the fuck is he keeping all of them under his control? How is he making them follow his rules?” Ahia asked. “The demons, I mean. Five minutes out on their own in the countryside and I’d think they’d be abandoning their post and going off to do whatever they want.”
I squirmed. “Demons will follow a powerful leader. It takes someone very powerful, but it’s happened in the past. This guy is an Ancient, and although he’s a complete dick, he is a powerful dick.”
“This Ancient is claiming to be Samael,” Gregory added softly.
The room fell silent at his words.
“Is he?” Ahia held Raphael tighter. “Is it Samael?”
“No,” I announced. “It’s not. I’ve been up close and personal with this guy twice, and while he is copying Samael’s favored corporeal form as well as his energy signature, it’s not him.”
“How sure are we that it’s not Samael,” Uriel asked. “You don’t know him. You wouldn’t recognize him like we would. If Samael is alive and wanted revenge, now would be the perfect opportunity. We’re out of Aaru. We’re vulnerable.”
“But he didn’t retake Aaru,” Ahia pointed out with a glance my way. “Sam said some other Ancient did. If your brother was alive, wouldn’t that have been his first goal? Grab the homeland first. Kill all his rivals second.”
“Kill his siblings, third?” Raphael asked. “I hate to think that’s what Samael has become.”
“Two-and-a-half-million years,” Gabe reminded him. “And banished to Hel. That would change any angel.”
“That’s why it’s not him,” Gregory assured them all. “The Iblis took a portion of his spirit-being in LA, and while the energy signature is nearly identical to Samael’s it’s too perfect a copy. I would expect changes not just in his behavior, but in his energy as well. So long outside of Aaru…it degrades an angel’s abilities. It leaves an indelible mark on their spirit-being.”
“But Samael wasn’t just any angel,” Raphael argued. “What if you’re wrong and it’s him. I can’t…I can’t fight him. I won’t lift my sword against him. Even if my own life were to be forfeit, I could never raise my hand against my own brother.”
Gregory winced.
“It’s not Samael,” I told Rafi. “You’ll have to trust me on this, all of you will have to trust me. It’s not Samael. I am one hundred percent positive on that.”
Raphael shook his head. “Uri is right. You didn’t know him. You’ve never met him. I can’t trust that you would recognize him if you saw him. Honestly, I can’t even trust that I would recognize him anymore.”
“It’s. Not. Him,” I insisted. I didn’t want to reveal to Rafi and his brothers that the reason I was so sure was that I’d faced the real Samael. And there was no doubt in my mind that Gimlet was the real Samael. No one could fake that well. No one.
“If Rafi needs to confine his and his choir’s fighting to the fringes, among the demons, then I’m okay with that.” Uriel sighed. “I understand. I believe the Iblis, but honestly if I came face-to-face with this Ancient, and he appeared convincing enough, I’m not sure I could strike the blow either.”
Gregory hadn’t held back two-and-a-half-million years ago. He’d nearly killed his brother in a dishonorable move. He’d done what none of his siblings would have stooped to do. I could feel his pain and his shame over this, and it hurt me just as much as it hurt him.
“I’ll do it,” I told them. “You all keep them surrounded and contained, moving in and herding them together, and I’ll command the forces that take on where this imposter is held up. I’ll be the one to face him. I’ll be the one to take him out.”
“No, Cockroach. I will.” A muscle in Gregory’s jaw twitched, but his voice remained cool and unaffected. “It’s an imposter, and this is just another foe to defeat.”
“But if we’re wrong?” Raphael faced his brother.
“If we’re wrong and it’s Samael, then it’s my responsibility to set this right. I put this all in motion. I’m the one he wants revenge on. I can’t let him destroy this whole world and everything in it. I’ll face him. Imposter or not, I’ll be the one to kill him.”
“No.” Even I was surprised at the firmness in my voice. “I’m the Iblis. Whoever this is, he is usurping my right. He has formed an army in defiance of my rule, and that I cannot allow. He will answer to me. And he is not Samael, so everyone get that right out of your heads.”
Everyone blinked at me.
