My Lord's Judgment (8 page)

He hated crying, and avoided it at all cost,
especially in front of other people. This time, though, it just
happened, and he felt like a teapot whistle had blown and relieved
some of the pressure. What the tears didn’t handle, the sex took
care of.
Holy fuckoli
was
that
was great!

If he could just not be scared of what
tomorrow would bring, he would feel like himself again. The promise
Sammy had made helped a lot. He seemed like his word meant the
world to him, and looked pleased to give it.

At least one of them was pleased. Brandon was
not happy with himself one bit. He was such a pussy and showed it
tonight, blubbering like a girl. Ugh! It was pathetic. He knew he
couldn’t help himself, and it was his body’s way of coping, but
still. Then to be all, ‘protect me daddy,’ with Sam, but he wasn’t
stupid. He was the kid that got the swirlies, the one who got beat
up and bullied; but even if he wasn’t, these were demons.
Hello.
Fuck no, thank you very much.

Sam watched him as he made the sandwiches -
good old peanut butter and jelly on white,
yum
- but it
didn’t seem as if he was curious about the correct way to cut
bread. “Will you stop, please?” Bran froze. What was Sammy not
hungry anymore?

“You were in shock. The body reacts to that
differently for each person, but it's never pleasant. Stop
chastising yourself, for it.”

Bran blushed, a deep red and hid his eyes
with his bangs.
Shit!
Damn, stupid, over expressive
face.

Samael grabbed his chin to force his face up.
“You pulled yourself out of it fairly quickly, that takes strength.
Your body dealt with the issues and resolved them. That is nothing
to be embarrassed about.” His angel gave him a peck on the mouth.
“Let us eat.”

What a freckin’ cool guy! Bran had felt like
shit. Sam told him it was okay and why, and then let it go so as
not to add to his embarrassment. Brandon didn’t know what he’d done
to deserve to meet Samael, but whatever it was, he had to thank his
lucky stars.

Sam
followed Brandon to the small couch, smiling his success the whole
way. He felt somewhat guilty being happy at the man’s discomfort,
but he was very pleased with himself all the same. He had been
studying Bran and was finally able to decipher the minute nuances
of his features, to predict what he was thinking. His first guess
was correct. He did not like that Bran was embarrassed, but he
understood it. If he had shown weakness in front of another, he
would be disappointed in himself as well. He let it go, but inside
he was gloating a little.

Samael sat beside Brandon and took the plate
he was handed. “So, what is the name for this?” He pulled the
slices of bread apart and sniffed. It smelled delicious.

“Peanut butter and strawberry jelly.” Bran
smiled and took a big bite of his own sandwich. Sam followed suit
and found it tasted as good as it smelled.

They ate in companionable silence for a
while, before talking about the project that Brandon was working
on. A knock at the door froze them both.

A short glance at Brandon showed that he was
looking at Samael, eyes wide with fear. He was obviously not
expecting company. Sam put his plate on the coffee table.

“Bedroom. Hide,” he growled, and Bran darted
off, shutting himself in the room.

Samael was just standing when the door
crashed in, breaking the frame and banging against the wall before
coming to a stop half off its hinges. Three armed men strode
through: Asmodeus, some human that he had never seen before, and
…

“Gadreel?”

Sam reached for the Demon Dagger, but
realized it was not on him. He had left it in the bedroom, thinking
it wasn’t needed.

“Hello Samael. What a pleasure it is to see
you.” The angel’s smile was all teeth, saying without words, that
it was no pleasure at all. Sam was right there with him on
that.

He narrowed his eyes at his enemy. “What are
you doing here, Gadreel?” He had been asking that question a lot,
as of late.

The human answered instead, dipping his head
toward Gadreel and flashing the gun in his hand. “Master C is here
in person to collect the money he is owed.”

Money? The twenty thousand dollars.
Shit!
Everything slammed into his head at once, like a fast
moving picture slide show. He remembered it all. The entirety of
what he had discovered, or Brandon had told him, fit themselves
together into a psychotic puzzle in his mind; one that he'd not had
all of the pieces to, until now.

“
Carlos, Chris. I saw Carlos, and two more of
Master C’s goons. No, let me rephrase that, I saw their fists and
guns.”

“
So, he told me to call the man he got the drugs
from, said he would loan me the cash.”

“
Your father is coming to get you.”

“
I don’t know who he is, never met him.”

“
His father. His father wants him, so he set up a
situation where Brandon would have no choice.”

“No!” It was not possible.

Gadreel laughed evilly, walking to the window
by the couch. “You always were too smart for your own good,
Sam.”

“You’re...you’re his father?”

“That’s right. Brandon is my flesh and blood.
You know what they say, ‘like father like son.’” The angel had a
sneer on his face, while his two companions were snickering.

That was a fabrication of the highest degree.
His Little Raven was nothing like Gadreel. Nothing. Bran was good,
and loyal, and selfless. Gadreel was the complete opposite of those
things.

“What do you want with him?” Sam snapped,
trying to keep all of the men and their weapons in his line of
sight simultaneously.

“Well, that is very simple.” The angel leaned
back against the window, and crossed his arms. “He is mine.” Sam’s
hackles rose. Brandon was his not Gadreel’s. “Bran is Nephilim, and
has gifts that will come in quite handy to me. It is time he
thanked me for giving him life, and used them in loyalty to me.
Besides,” Gadreel broke away from the window and walked to the
center of the room. “He has been without his father for far too
long, poor fellow. It’s more than time he got to know his dear old
dad.”

No!
This was not happening. Gadreel
had taken everything from him; he was not going to take Brandon
too.

The angel made a motion with his hand and the
two, armed men surrounded Samael, their handguns directed at his
head. Sam looked at Asmodeus. The demon seemed wary, as he should
be. “You remember what I said to you, A?” Sam whispered.

Fear filled Asmodeus’ eyes.
Oh, he
remembered all right.
“Don’t Sam. You are only human now.” He
sounded firm and sure, but the hand holding the gun was trembling
slightly.

“You will be the first.” Sam growled at him
quietly. He almost expected the demon to piss his pants. Human or
not, Asmodeus was afraid of him. Rightly so.

“Brandon!” Gadreel shouted. “Come out here
boy.”

“No, Bran, stay where you are.” Sam yelled in
reply.

Gadreel stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. “We
have Samael at gunpoint, Bran. We will shoot him if you don't show
yourself.”

Sam cursed. Brandon was too loyal not to
respond to that threat, and he knew it.

“Calm down,” the angel directed at Sam. “It’s
not as if this place is big. We would find him anyway.”

He knew that was the truth, but he’d hoped he
could stop them in time; even if his death was the price. Samael
was probably the only being he knew that held no fear of Death. Not
that he wanted to go yet, he did not want to leave Bran like
that.

A minute later, Brandon came out of the
bedroom and solemnly walked directly toward him. He was fully
dressed now. As he approached, the other men backed away slightly,
still aiming their weapons at Sam.

Bran stepped up beside him, and reached
around placing a hand at the small of Sam’s back. There was
something in it.
The Demon Dagger!
The blind faith the man
showed was humbling. He just hoped he didn't let his Little Raven
down.

As inconspicuously as possible, he shoved the
blade down the back of Samael’s shorts, while speaking to their
captors. “What do you want?”

“Ah, Brandon. Good to finally meet you, son.”
The ‘son’ comment had Sam flinching.

Bran raised his chin in defiance. “Who are
you and what do you want from me?”

“I am Master C and you, my dear boy, owe me a
lot of money. Now, I know you don't have it. Carlos, here,” he
indicated the human with a tilt of his head, “has told me as much;
but seeing as it has recently come to my attention that you are my
child, I'm willing to overlook it.”

The angel allowed the words to sink in for a
minute before continuing. “On one condition. You come work for
me.”

Brandon pushed his hair off his face – which
Sam knew was significant because it was always in his eyes when he
was nervous – then his Little Raven looked at him and held his
gaze. Samael used his newfound ability to read the man’s
expressions. He told him without words that he had heard everything
from the bedroom, and he was not going with Gadreel.
I would
rather die than go with that evil man. What is your plan, Sam?
Let’s do something. Let’s get out of here. I am staying with you no
matter what. We fight this together remember? Together!

Right!
The private conversation was
just what Samael needed. He bolstered his courage and turned back
toward their enemy, slowly sliding his hand behind him to grasp the
hilt of the dagger.

Bran tipped his chin down, hiding his face
once more, and then turned to the angel. “So, you're my
father?”

Gadreel latched on to that; anything to get
what he wanted. “That’s right, Brandon. No one here is going to
hurt you. You come with me, and we'll get to know each other.”
Gadreel schooled his expression into one of regret. Man, was he
good. “I am so very sorry that I have not been there for you. I
didn’t know about you until recently, but we can change all of
that.”

Brandon slowly stepped toward Gadreel,
drawing everyone’s attention to himself. Damn, but his man had some
balls. Asmodeus had lowered his weapon slightly, and the human now
had his pointed somewhere around the couch. Both of the men split
their focus between the protection of their boss, and Samael. Their
boss was winning.
Stupid, very stupid.

“What about the money?” Bran was now a few
feet away from the angel, and Sam was slowly edging his way toward
the other two men in the room.

Gadreel gave a flick of his hand. “If you
come with me, you’ll have all the money you want. The amount you
owe, well, let’s just consider it a bonus.”

“What could I possibly do for you?”
Almost
there, almost.

“Your dreams…”

Just then, Samael moved - thrusting the
dagger through Asmodeus’ heart, and then spinning to the human. He
knew the blessing on the blade would do its work, and the demon
would be down. As he turned, he flung his left hand up, capturing
the muzzle of the gun, pushing it upward and setting it off in the
ceiling. At the same time, his right hand brought the dagger up and
in an arch, slicing the human’s throat. He felt no remorse.
That’s what you get for putting your hands on his Little
Raven!

In seconds, both of them were dead, and Sam
was facing Gadreel.

It was not quick enough.

Gadreel had changed; his huge silver wings
nearly the length of the room. He didn’t deserve to wear silver;
they should be black, as dark as his soul.

The angel had Brandon pulled up against his
chest, a blade to his throat.

“Nice, Samael. I see you haven’t lost your
skill.”

“Release him Gadreel. It’s over.” Samael
started toward them, but heard a hiss come from Bran that froze him
in place.

Brandon was standing on the tips of his toes,
a large forearm wrapped across his neck. The blade pierced him,
just under his right ear and a small amount of blood was beading
there. Sam could throw his dagger, but he did not have much room to
work with and was afraid to hit Bran instead. He didn't even know
if the Demon Dagger would work on Gadreel. Technically, he was
still an angel. Barely.

Some help would be nice right now.
He
thought out toward the heavens, not really expecting an answer.

Bran released the forearm he was holding onto
for balance, and pushed his hair back. Samael looked him in the
eye. The man’s face said, “Get ready.”

Gadreel was sneering at him, “Samael, you
know better than that, there is nothing you can do to stop me. That
dagger in your hand will not work on me.”

“Are you so sure of that Gadreel?”

“I am an angel.” He spat at Sam.

“A technicality I am sure will be remedied
forthwith.” Samael replied calmly. “Your soul is as evil as any
demon’s, I am sure the blessing will be able to tell that. Are you
willing to risk it, Gadreel? Are you willing to risk the Seventh
level of Hell?”

The angel’s uncertainty was plain and he
roughly pulled Bran closer to him. “I’ll kill him, Sam.”

Samael glanced at Brandon’s face again. It
said, “Now!”

Bran reached behind himself and squeezed the
angel’s balls, hard. In reaction, Gadreel pushed him away with a
shout, still holding Bran's arm, but leaving himself wide open.
Samael threw the blade with all the force he could, strengthened by
his anger at Gadreel, by his fear for Brandon’s safety, by all of
the things that were taken from him. The dagger flew swift and
true, and buried itself in the center of the angel’s chest.

Gadreel released Brandon completely, and his
Little Raven flew at him. Sam hugged him close and watched the
angel, waiting to see if the blessing would take him from this
plain, or if it would not have any effect on him at all.