Supernatural Balthazar Novels & Stories

It helps keep the portals into the underworld secure and lessens the chances of the wrong people finding their way in here. I reached forward and tapped my knuckle against the black wooden door. “Come in.” Balthazar's voice called from the other side. I turned the old glass handle and pushed the door open, shutting it behind me after I entered. Balthazar was focused on his computer screen. Typing away something as a paper and quill floated beside him, writing out whatever he was thinking. The fact he was able to multitask like that was weird. Writing two separate things at once seemed impossible. But I guess being the King of the Underworld. You could do many things others would deem impossi

The tension drained from his body as he dropped onto the ground, rubbing the back of his neck with a disappointed expression. "I thought I would have some advantage after receiving lightning powers from the Goddess of Lightning, Astrape," he muttered. "However... this is nothing." Balthazar looked at the discouraged young man with amusement. This child... He has absolutely no idea how priceless Astrape's gift truly is. If he properly understands lightning... if he truly harmonizes with it... He'll become unstoppable. Keeping those thoughts to himself, Balthazar lowered his hand and slowly approached Danial.

I brushed stray strands of hair off my soft-heart shaped face and took a quick glance at my upturned eyes, the blue-green irises darting along with my pupils as I scanned over my own features. I put my calculus book and notepad away, tucking them in between Science and Language Arts, and replaced them with my history materials. I shut my locker, which revealed a 6'4" figure that stood right behind it. "Shit!" I gasped, nearly jumping out of my skin and dropping all of my things. The figure chuckled. Leaning against the lockers, a smug smirk dancing across his face was Zachary Bentley Turploy. "What's wrong, Tiger?" He taunted, his accent dripping with sarcasm.

What if I can't fight the urge to destroy him right then and there, while he is so open for attack? I begin to see the recognisable features forming on Sage's face, his entire body glowing with the hum of magic. He rises from all fours, standing as a man. Bear of clothing, and anything that may protect him from my sharp claws or wicked bite. Pain spreads across his face, tears touching his eyes. He knows what a horrifying nightmare this all is. "Don't Change. Kadence, you need to get to the Pantera territory,"

Fallon I’m in disbelief over what just occurred. It seemed that Bree wanted to say something, but something held her back. I try not to dwell on what she wanted to say, yet a small part of me wishes that she would have chosen to stay in my home. It would be torturous to have her close, but at least I’d get to see her. Even going in that direction with my train of thought is quite maddening, I know. Within moments, I reach Mathias’ home. Mathias is one of the oldest Seraphim to live on earth. He’s also the head of the Supernatural Council. My hope is that the Council might have hunted or seen similar creatures in the city.

With his looks it had been a choice not all his own, but being alone was something he'd gotten used to regardless of whether or not he would have wanted it differently. "Go take a break. I'll take over." Bruce was his supervisor and someone he thought of as a friend. Though to Christopher, a friend was just someone who didn't take pot shots at you. Bruce treated him fairly and therefore Christopher thought of him as a friend. He got up out of the rolling secretary chair and headed for the commissary where he went straight to the refrigerator for his bag lunch. It wasn't quite the bag lunch that would come to mind for the average person. His was an actual grocery bag half filled with food. O

My hands heated with the emotions Sam sent my way, and I felt our bond growing stronger. Burta continued speaking—no doubt a beautiful speech—but I wished he would hurry up so I could finally kiss Sam. The anticipation was too much. Deep in my soul, my need for Sam was so great that I feared I might do something foolish if I didn’t release that part of me soon. "Samael of War, King of the Wrath Kingdom, leader of the Demon realm, Punisher of men, Satan of the world..." Burta's voice rose, capturing my attention. A beautiful wedding ring with a ruby appeared on a pillow next to him, held by Adrian.

“Yet, your God allowed pagans to invade and kill all of you.” “At least they have souls.” The vampire leaned closer until his lips nearly touched my ears. “I assure you, I do have a soul.” I had no time to disagree with him. Two more vampires materialised out of the smoke and dust. I later learned that their names were Balthazar and Lazarus. The men who would become my brothers. “This one, Father?” Balthazar asked in a mocking tone. “Are you sure? Look at him. He's weak. He’s just a monk.”

"Then we should help her too. The more anger they produce, the more our own lives expand. We should help as many vengeful people as we want." She stood up, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she looped her arm tightly around Balthazar's neck. "Then, you and me... we will go far away, and we won't ever have to worry about dying or growing old." Balthazar smiled warmly down at her, leaning in to press a deep kiss to her lips. "Yes, let's get to work," he agreed. "First, we make more demon soldiers, and then we leave them on their own to tear everything apart."

The walls had been repainted, and new furniture now occupied the living room, but the faint scent of her mother's favorite lavender cleaner filled her nose along with the smell of something cooking. “You didn’t call,” Dorothea said, shutting the door behind her. “I didn’t have time,” She replied flatly, setting her suitcase down near the stairs. Her mother wrung her hands. “You should’ve called.” “What difference would it have made?” Kallista snapped. Before Dorothea could respond, a deep voice cut through the tension. “Kallista? Is that you?” Benedict Jones entered the room, a glass of whiskey in hand. The years had softened his features, but his eyes, they still carried that dead look anyt