“Enough.  I'm done being your punching bag.”  He rose and caught me as he rocketed upwards.  The land healed below us, stone creaking back in place as if nothing had happened.  He set me down gingerly. “Sniffling isn't threatening, Callie.”I gave him a withering glance.  He dusted debris from my shoulder.  I realized hazily that I was still in my track suit, feeling incredibly under-dressed.  Samael's eyes lit up in comprehension.“I can fix that,” he said sagely. “I didn't ask for-”He snapped his fingers.  Aghast, I found my worn sweatpants and Under Armour replaced by a Playboy bunny suit.  Samael sported a Hugh Hefner-esque bathrobe and silken black pajamas.  He grinned sleazily.“Are you kidding me?” I said flatly.“There,” he said proudly.  “Now you're intimidating.  Even angels f

“Aaagh!  Why are immortals so frigging complicated?”“Would you rather we fit neatly into little mortal boxes?” He spoke in a falsetto: “Hello, boys and girls!  My name's Satan!  I'm the Prince of Darkness and Evil Incarnate.  That nice old man over there with a white beard is God.  He's your Father, and if you don't believe in him, you'll burn in Hell forever.  I'll torture you and roast you up good until your flesh melts on my teeth.   Doesn't that sound wonderful?  And look over there, at that dead man on a cross- it's Jesus.  His Father killed him so he could die for your sins.”“What's a sin, Jimmy?  Why, you're all born filthy little brats with Sin inside of you like an STD, passed on through sex from the Original Stinking Sin.   And no matter how much you bathe, that Sin never goes away, not until you accept Jesus into your hearts.  Come, children, kne

We'd crossed the Border hours ago.  Samael carried me in his arms like I was a child, following the mongrel's scent.  The trail of bloody paw prints grew fainter as the moon rose high.  He paused every now and then to look at me fondly.“Remind me why you're dragging me along?”“Because,” Samael said quietly, “otherwise you're a demon chew toy.”  He sailed through the woods without touching the ground.“Aren't I already?”“No.  More a feral lapdog.”  He leapt into a clearing, wings outstretched to buffer his fall.  I got a mouthful of feathers. “Umf.”“Yes, nice scenery.”The morning star twinkled above.  A stone pedestal stood under an oak whose roots grew in tangles around it.  The tracks came to an end.  The corpse of a girl lay atop the stone.  Her blood dripped down the its cracks. 

Rotting organs spewed across the altar as Jakkon roared.  He speared his claws into Samael's forearm.  He wrenched his head free from Samael's grip, rolling forwards and driving his feet straight into Samael's jaw.  Samael cursed.  He grabbed Jakkon's wings and snapped them.  It was almost ritualistic as they dealt each blow.  Trading kicks that would knock a whale dead.  Exchanging a slicing punch for a stranglehold that left brains drooling from the nostril.Jakkon tore Samael's guts from his chest.  They fell in a pile to the ground and writhed like snakes, then launched themselves at the Watcher.  Intestines bound his limbs.  Samael bent Jakkon like a toothpick, snapping him in two.  But that was not his end.  I watched in horror as his flesh rebinded itself, indestructible.  Their roars made it clear that, though immortal, they were friends with pain just the same.“Samael,” Jakko

Frighteningly enough, Damien's was becoming a second home for me. “The regular?” Signor da Silva asked, winking.  He poured me a foaming mug of root beer.“Thanks,” I said, trying to pay him.  For the umpteenth time, he refused, smiling indulgently.“Now now, it's costing enough to be in Samael's company.  Best keep what change you have.”“Shannon is an expensive girl,” Samael noted, ducking behind the bar.  He grabbed the vodka off the shelf and downed it in one gulp.“How is the Reaper holding up?” Damien asked, ignoring the liquor theft.Samael groaned, slumped into a worn chair.  “Not rosy.  Metatron's on my ass to do tax returns on lost souls.  There's a cholera outbreak, again.  And, according to my schedule,” he muttered, whipping out a worn agenda, “some idiot is going to set off a bomb at a Ru