Crowley And Aziraphale Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 38 – DRAGONHEART DUEL The cavern walls shook harder as the heat surged forward. Rowan held her breath when the entrance darkened, the air turning sharp with cold fire. A figure stepped through the haze. Blue light curled around him, brushing the stone like frost burning in reverse. Azeriel. His eyes glowed the same blue that pulsed inside her chest. He studied her with a calm that felt colder than the flames around him. “You called me,” he said. “Or maybe you simply stopped running.”

“And Thanatos is his actual son?” “Yes. Like I said, Azrael is clever. Much like Nat, he can come and go wherever he pleases via portals to Hell.” “Like the one in Reaper’s Hollow—the one Washington Irving was alluding to?” “Precisely. Azrael doesn’t come out often. He chooses to stay below and record the names, letting the Reapers do the collecting. But from time to time, he does surface. And in the case of Nat, he left something behind as a remembrance.”

Raphael half-joked. "I know what you mean," I said plainly. "Auzzy," Raphael announced, "how nice of you to come back so soon." Archangel Azrael, the collector of souls for Father— God's helper, appeared onto us. "This could have been precluded." He lifted his red shroud, letting soul particles escape into Raphael's mortar. He then gave Raphael his palm to incise, quickly and painlessly letting his blood drop into the mortar. "I won't do this again," he stated. "No matter how much Father loves us. There has to be some order, brother."

Just like that, fabric unfurled like waves, lifting coffins out of the ground as if like a magic trick. One by one, infant spirits broke free from their wooden prisons. I pointed at them, then back at Jim. "See them? Some never got to talk, some never even saw the world. They're just like you, trapped between life and death. In seven days, this place will be as spooky as it gets. Are you in? Will you fight with me, even if it's to the death?"

“This isn’t from the god. It’s from whatever’s been watching me since Verryn’s Gate.” Zevran frowned. “Our mysterious Sparrow?” “Or the thing behind them.” She turned toward the far wall, where a narrow archway had appeared that hadn’t existed before. Beyond it, a faint light pulsed—steady, inviting. “The Cradle just opened a path,” she said. “And I don’t think it’s the way back up.” Zevran sheathed his sword with a sigh. “Naturally.” He looked at her, the lamplight catching in his eyes. “Tell me the truth—are we still trying to save the world, or just see who kills us first?”

He has a troubled expression on his face that worries me. “Good morning, Zarah. Can I come in?” I sense some urgency in his tone, making me automatically move aside to let him in. Archer didn’t hesitate and walks inside. My eyes cautiously move to check Mammon, Leviathan, Belzeebub, and Gorshe. All were huddling together at one corner and covering each other’s mouths. I don’t know why they are being extra when Archer could not even see or hear them. Are the demon princes really slow? At least Belphegor has the sense to leave the room.

She opened it to find a cloaked figure standing in the shadows. “Who are you?” she demanded, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at her side. The figure lowered their hood, revealing a woman with striking silver hair and piercing blue eyes. “My name is Seraphine,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. “I’m a Keeper of Balance, and I’ve come for the relics.” Clara’s heart raced. “A Keeper? Why now?” “Because their power is not meant for mortals,” Seraphine explained. “They are tools of balance, and their presence here will only invite more chaos.”

he said in a soft voice. "You should," Chloe blurted out, knowing what he was talking about before she smiled at him. "But it's fine now." She looked around and breathe in deeply. "I wonder why, though? Who is Jared Dale? Your twin?" Ciaran took a deep breath and put his hands behind him, watching as the clouds passed by above them. "Time was my magic affiliation but even time I cannot fully control," he started. Chloe raised the rose to stop him as she remembered something. "You're the cloaked man who saved me from Kirsten?"

I froze in the center of the walkway. My vision blurred as I tracked the silhouette. Aziel Crowbane—the warrior who had sworn an ancient blood-oath to guard my youth—shared the back of a black stallion with Zoraya Flint, his thick, scarred arms wrapped completely around the smaller male's waist, one hand directing the leather reins while the other tilted Zoraya’s jaw upward to consume his mouth. My hunting stare must have radiated too fiercely through the dark. Aziel’s eyes snapped toward my position, his gold irises darkening with instant hostility, a dangerous snarl rippling across his chest as if their intimate binding ritual had been brutally violated by a spy.

“Why are you asking me like he'd ever tell me something like that?” I paused, lifting my eyes from the folder. “I don't understand why you both can't get along.” “It's not on me, Azrael, it's on him. I have a feeling he thinks I'm stealing his big bro from him.” That made no sense. I scoffed, returning my attention to the folder. “Don't be ridiculous, Izar isn't childish even though he's young.” “Whatever,” Caspian muttered but I ignored him. My eyes scanned each name until they fell on a name that had my heart stopping. “Saphielle Caelwyn?” I whispered in shock.