Black Howl - Page 32/77

Several angry murmurs broke out at this.

“Besides,” I continued, “he’s Lucifer’s grandson. Are you really going to kill your lord’s grandson?”

“People died because of his actions,” Azazel said, but the rest of the Grigori shifted uncomfortably nonetheless.

It was one thing to view Samiel as a nephilim’s child, quite another to think of him as a close and direct descendant of their highest lord.

I just hoped Lucifer didn’t decide to remind them that I had already killed two of his children. I glanced up at his face and he gave me a little half smile, like he knew what I was thinking, but he didn’t say anything.

“Let Samiel go,” I repeated. “I will be responsible for him.”

Beezle murmured in my ear, “I hope you understand what you’re getting into when you make that promise.”

“Yeah, a lifetime of the two of you eating me out of house and home,” I replied.

I knew what it meant when I said I would be responsible for Samiel. It meant that if he put even a fingernail over the line, it would be him and me standing bound before the Grigori next time—if they even bothered with the pretense of a trial before execution.

Nathaniel leaned over to Azazel and whispered in my father’s ear. All around me the Grigori were speaking behind their hands to one another.

I didn’t want it to come to this, but I would blast my way out of here with Samiel if I had to. I would not leave him with the Grigori. I think Jude was secretly hoping for an excuse to lunge at Lucifer.

After several moments in which the Grigori looked like a bunch of kids playing Telephone—“I say kill him; pass it on”—Azazel stood. It seemed he was the voice of the court.

Lucifer had played no role in the decision-making. It appeared that he had acted only as a witness to the proceedings. Still, I knew that something greater than Samiel’s guilt was at work here. Lucifer was waiting for something.

“It is the will of this court that Samiel ap Ramuell be remanded into the custody of Lady Madeline Black ap Azazel.”

I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I guess the “Lucifer’s grandson” argument had carried some weight.

“As Samiel’s custodian you will henceforth be responsible for his actions. Should Samiel violate the laws of Lord Lucifer’s kingdom, he shall be condemned to immediate death at the hands of the Hound of the Hunt.”

I didn’t like the part where Samiel would have to live with the threat of execution for the rest of his life, but it was better than the alternative.

“I see one small flaw in this decision,” Lucifer said, and the room went unnaturally quiet, like nobody wanted to attract Lucifer’s attention to them. “We no longer have a Hound of the Hunt.”

Metatrion’s blank eyes accused me.

“I don’t know why I have to keep saying this, but he was trying to kill me at the time,” I said.

“And I am sure that it is a comfort to your father as it is a comfort to me that you are so very capable. Still, it does not change the fact that the court has never been without a Hound,” Lucifer said.

I shrugged, moving forward to Samiel, who was still bound. I wanted to free his hands and get him out of the court before any of the Grigori thought up an objection. I was sure some of them were already busily crafting one.

“I don’t see how this has anything to do with me or Samiel,” I said.

“Don’t you?” Lucifer said softly. “The Hound of the Hunt is dead at your hand.”

I stopped next to Samiel, looking up at Lucifer. Dread washed over me, and I knew that whatever Lucifer had been waiting for had finally arrived.

“As payment for the death of the Hound of the Hunt, you will take over his duties.”

The walls were closing around me. Lucifer looked triumphant.

“As you have taken responsibility for the life of Samiel ap Ramuell, so, too, shall you take responsibility for his death should he violate the laws of the kingdom.

“As I am the Morningstar, you shall be my dark star, the hand of my will, my bringer of justice.

“All rise and say hail to my Hound of the Hunt.”

The Grigori rose. Over the buzzing in my ears I thought I heard a voice speaking in my head—Lucifer’s voice.

“I thought you told me you knew how to play chess.”

I’d just been outplayed. Again.

9

“I TOLD YOU THERE WOULD BE A PRICE TO PAY,” BEEZLE said for the hundredth time since we’d left Azazel’s court.

“I know,” I groaned, slumping forward to hide my face in my arms. “How many times are you going to say, ‘I told you so’?”

“I’m not even close to being done yet,” Beezle said. “You think you’re so smart. You think you can outwit Lucifer. He’s had epochs of practice time.”

We sat at the kitchen table—Samiel, Gabriel, Beezle and me—and the mood was positively funereal. You wouldn’t think we managed to save Samiel from certain death.

J.B. had shaken his head at me and gone back to work without a word, while Jude had looked at me like I’d contracted some new and contagious disease that involved blisters and boils before returning to his pack.

Samiel rapped on the table so that I would look up at him. I’m so sorry. This is my fault.

“No, it isn’t,” I said heavily. “Lucifer has been looking for an excuse to move me closer to his inner circle, and he took it.”