Death Sword. Pamela Turner

madly, casting long, erratic shadows from ceiling to floor. Wall-to-wall black carpet rounded out the Gothic decor.

      Karla stepped forward, boots sinking in plush pile. Before Xariel could shout a warning, a massive black dog, its red eyes glowing, snarled and lunged at her.

      Karla screamed. She stumbled back against Xariel, who steadied her.

      “Black Shuck, heel,” he commanded.

      The hellhound lowered his head, glaring at her. Karla trembled. Xariel placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

      “It’s okay. Black Shuck doesn’t like strangers.” He scratched the canine’s shaggy head.

      After licking Xariel’s hand in greeting, the dog lumbered to where Samael sat behind an obsidian desk, carved and polished to a sheen, engraved demons, gargoyles, and skulls decorating the front and side panels. Black Shuck lay down beside Samael, muzzle resting on forepaws. Every so often, he growled low in his throat at Karla.

      “What brings you here?” Samael’s voice was smooth, like aged whiskey, but undercut with a hint of annoyance. Strands of blood-colored hair fell into his amber eyes and he brushed the bangs back, giving him an uncombed, careless appearance. Despite the chill, he wore short sleeves.

      Xariel drew a deep breath. This was it. He’d deal with repercussions later. “Metatron wants Karla to work for you as an angel of death.”

      He expected Samael to dismiss him with a derisive comment, but one never knew what the capricious angel of death and chief of satans would do or say.

      “I see.” Samael waved Karla over. He gave her a cursory look, yawned, and turned away.

      “What the fuck–” Karla looked over her shoulder at Xariel.

      Xariel put a hand on her arm, staying her. He shook his head, putting a finger to his lips. Angering Samael wasn’t like upsetting Metatron. Xariel knew firsthand the ramifications of Samael’s punishments. He wanted to spare her the unpleasantness.

      “Wait outside, human,” Samael ordered.

      The door swung open. Karla looked at Xariel for confirmation. He nodded. She shrugged and left, muttering expletives loud enough for them to hear.

      The door locked again. Xariel tensed. Samael moved toward him, a predatory look in his eyes. Xariel shrank back and Samael huffed in disapproval.

      “Not pleased to see an old friend?”

      “I wouldn’t say we’re friends,” Xariel retorted.

      Samael smiled, tracing a finger up Xariel’s suit jacket sleeve. The latter trembled. “Maybe not. Still, why bring human filth here? A human as an angel of death?” Samael sneered. “Don’t tell me Metatron’s become senile.”

      “Hardly.”

      “What do you think?”

      “Doesn’t matter. I’ve my orders.”

      “Why not have her work with Gabriel?” Samael’s finger caressed Xariel’s nape, his touch icy.

      Xariel shivered.

      Samael’s smile turned into a smirk. “I forgot. You’re not on good terms with him, are you?”

      Xariel glared. “You made sure of that.”

      “It’s better this way.” His palm cupped Xariel’s cheek. “We could go back to those days. Remember? You were happy. Don’t deny it.”

      Xariel shook his head.

      “Do you think it’s over? Or have you already fallen in love with her?”

      “Of course not!” Xariel’s voice choked. “We just met.” He liked Karla, but if Samael even assumed he was interested in her, his boss would see an opportunity to cause trouble. Xariel’s skin crawled as he remembered what had happened to the other women in his life.

      “Then she won’t mind this, will she?” Samael caught Xariel’s wrist, pulling him into a deep kiss. One arm snaked around Xariel’s waist, holding him fast. Xariel’s eyes widened as Samael’s tongue invaded his mouth, breath hot and smelling of cinnamon mints.

      Samael broke the kiss first. He spat at the floor, face twisted in disgust. “I can taste them.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and scowled. “You still choose humans over me.”

      “You shouldn’t be surprised.” Xariel’s knees gave way. He gripped the edge of Samael’s desk to steady himself. “I told you we’re through.”

      Samael didn’t answer. Instead, he walked to a vertical black-lacquered cabinet mounted on the wall behind his desk. Xariel swallowed as he watched Samael remove a rapier, the basket-hilted handle intricately carved with ancient scrollwork. His eyes fixed on the dark yellow substance coating the blade tip. Venom. One drop would kill a human. Even angels weren’t immune.

      The sword glinted beneath the lights and Xariel thought he saw, for a brief second, Samael’s eyes blaze red and his hair fan about his face in a fiery halo. Xariel choked back a gag reflex when tiny eyes popped up over Samael’s skin and the chief of satan’s mouth twisted in a cruel grin, revealing sharp incisors.

      Xariel closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, the illusion was gone and only Samael’s smile remained, minus the vampire impression.

      “Perhaps I should make the human your partner.” Samael stroked the blade, running his tongue between his lips as he watched Xariel’s reaction. “After all, you seem to prefer their company.”

      Xariel winced at the inference.

      “However, if you think I’m giving you up, you’re mistaken.” Samael lowered the sword to his side. “Dismissed.”

       4

      “What happened?” Karla asked after Xariel exited Samael’s office.

      “Never mind. Let’s get out of here.” Xariel stalked down the hall, hands balled into fists. If he never saw Samael again, it’d be too soon. Damn annoying bastard, playing with him like that.

      She ran after him. “What is this floor?”

      “Offices for the angels of death.”

      “You mean we have to come back?”

      “No.” Xariel didn’t break stride. “Metatron emails our orders. It’s rare to be summoned here.”

      They rounded a corner, a tall young man approaching them. His white t-shirt, stretched tight over a muscular chest, contrasted with tanned skin. Jeans accentuated powerful thighs and combat boots only added to his commanding presence. But where a buzz military cut might have been, the newcomer’s brown hair fell in waves to broad shoulders.

      Xariel sighed. Great. Gabriel. Another angel he didn’t want to see. Two for one today. How lucky.

      Gabriel’s viridian eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched in what Xariel assumed to be a sardonic smile as he and Xariel locked stares. The angel of death waited for a wise-ass remark, but Gabriel merely nodded at him and Karla. If her presence surprised him, he gave no indication. “Xariel.”

      “Gabriel.”

      Xariel kept walking. He turned to see Karla looking back at Gabriel then at him.

      “The Gabriel?”

      They reached the elevators. Xariel pushed the up arrow. “The archangel? Yes.”

      “One you wanted me to work with?” A pause. “Don’t you get along?”

      “Not really.” They stepped inside an open car. “He’s still upset with me.”

      “Why?” The elevator rattled and clanked its way heavenward.

      “We used to work together. There was a misunderstanding