Layers

Chapter Thirteen

By: Brenli and Jael

Azrael heard Celestiel coming before she ever burst into his office. The rapid, authoritative clipping of her heels reached his ears before the bang of his door swinging open.

She slammed the door of his office closed and pulled off her porcelain mask, spilling the dark hair she kept hidden underneath the fake white dreadlocks attached to it. He didn't say a word. He hoped the careful and strained frown on his face would say enough.

"Do you want to explain this to me?" She was shaking with restrained rage, and she threw a newspaper against his chest.

He caught the fluttering mass of paper and opened it. The headline made Azrael's frown deepen.

"Thirteen dead. Four of them children." Celestiel planted her hands on the surface of his desk and leaned over, fire burning in eyes that were normally so cold and brutally analytical. "Is this your idea of a peaceful protest?"

"This wasn't my original intention."

"Is that supposed to absolve you? Because it won't. Keeping control of them is, and always has been, your responsibility. Every life they took can be laid at your feet, Azrael."

A muscle in Azrael's jaw ticked. Of course he knew that this was his fault. Of course he shouldered the guilt. Before Celestiel arrived in his office, he had paced the floor. But it wasn't Celestiel's inevitable anger that made him feel so uneasy, it was the faces of the people whose lives were ruined forever because of what they were trying to do. It was the face of every hopeful Rabbit who believed in him and his intentions. It was the guilt of knowing he was lying to each and every one of them.

"Celestiel…" Azrael sighed, sweeping a hand through his white hair, trying to figure out a way to be as delicate and respectful as he could. "I feel this loss just as much as you do. But… How could we have gotten through this without something bad happening? Were we really so naive?"

Celestiel's eyes sparked with anger, again. "I'm not willing to accept that as an excuse. Our goal is to create a peaceful world, not spill rivers of blood."

"I'm not sure we can have one without the other, anymore."

"Don't say that to me." Celestiel said, her rigid voice suddenly quivering with thinly veiled emotion. "I can tolerate hearing something like that from anyone else, but you."

"I don't know what else to say."

"Say you'll be better. That you'll try harder. That you'll keep them under control!"

"I can't, Celestiel!" Azrael said, his voice rising in his anger. "You asked me to fan a spark to a flame, and I did that. I can't control where it goes, from here!"

Celestiel slammed her fists against the surface of his desk, the wood splintering, and a mason jar he kept a trio of pens in exploded into tiny shards. "I've had enough of your incompetence-"

Azrael jumped to his feet so quickly his chair toppled over. But he didn't back away from her little displays of power. No. He leaned right over the desk towards her, mimicking her position over it. "Where were you?"

He finally asked a loaded question that made Celestiel's cheeks pale. "... What do you mean?"

"You were supposed to be there. At the protest, remember? When they got unruly, you could have stopped them in an instant. You didn't because you weren't there. Where were you?"

Celestiel leaned away from him, stepping away from the desk. "That isn't important."

"The Hell it isn't, Celestiel! You're so quick to blame me for the things that went wrong, yesterday. But you can take as much of the blame as you're piling onto me!"

She turned to leave, and Azrael's heart stopped cold in his chest. In an instant, he was around the edge of the desk, grabbing her elbow and pulling her to him. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her in a way she rarely allowed. Her fingers gripped the sides of his shirt when she returned his kiss.

There was a strangeness in her kiss that made Azrael want to weep. She seemed cold. Distant. Remorseful, even…

"Please, don't go." Azrael murmured against her mouth, his fingers threading through the dark hair that he adored. "Stay with me. Stay with me and we'll make love, like we used to, and talk about the world we have always dreamed about. Please…"

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Just stay.

"No." Celestiel's fingers gently took his wrists and coaxed his hands away from her face. "Because I know that it isn't my face or my body that you see when you touch me."

"Don't say it." Azrael said through gritted teeth, his eyes pinching shut.

"It's hers. It's always been hers…"

He felt the softest of sobs tear its way out of his throat. "If you were mine, Celestiel. Truly mine, in body and spirit and soul and heart… maybe I could forget my wife."

"You don't want to forget." Celestiel smiled softly, sadly, and caressed his cheek with her feather-light hands. "I love you, Azrael. You are the only one who truly knows me, who truly sees me as all that I am. But I can never be yours… and you can never be mine."

Azrael's hands still reached for her, even as she turned and walked out of his office. He leaned against his desk and lifted the porcelain rabbit mask she had left behind. He stared into its empty and vacant eyes until the dryness in his throat finally went away.

xXxXxXx

The moment Serissa walked through the door of her bedroom, she kicked off her heels, hissing a bit as the bite of coming blisters sent pain up her calves. An ache seeped into the marrow of her bones as the weight of another long day bore down on her shoulders. Throwing off her jacket, she didn't bother to change out of her leather leggings and tunic top before she faceplanted into the soft and inviting pillows and blankets of her california king sized bed.

As soon as she let out a contented sigh into the sheets, a knock came from her door. Her contented sigh morphed into a long and throaty groan of displeasure. She lifted her head, her mussed chocolate hair sticking to her lips. "What?"

"Serissa? It's Nema. I need to talk to you."

Now fucking what? Serissa felt like rolling over and sitting up took every ounce of what little energy she still had left. She scooted off her bed and stomped to her door, feeling the weight of fatigue in her legs like cement shoes. When she opened her door, Nema was not the first one she saw. It was easy to spot Uriel first, towering at six foot six inches tall next to Nema's five feet, even.

Uriel gave her a small, sympathetic and apologetic smile that Serissa didn't have the motivation to return, even when a smile exploded in her heart at the mere sight of him. Her hazel colored eyes moved back to focus on Nema's pale and troubled face.

"What is it? I'm tired."

"I know; I'm sorry." Nema's pale hands were twisting a blood speckled handkerchief between them, nerves making her fidget under the harsh gaze of their Vampire hostess. "This can't wait. I… I have a favor to ask."

"A favor." Serissa repeated lamely, leaning on her door jamb in an attempt to rest her weary bones. "What favor?"

"There was an attack on one of the suburbs in Heaven, yesterday. A lot of people got hurt."

"I know. I heard."

Nema's red eyes widened slightly. "You heard? How?"

"Bad news travels fast." Serissa said with a casual shrug of her tattooed shoulders. "And with you people staying here, I make it my business to keep up with such matters. It's tragic, but what does it have to do with me?"

"Two of my friends were left homeless. I was wondering-"

"If they could stay here." Serissa finished the Rabbit Queen's sentence with a low and menacing tone in her tired voice.

Nema swallowed. "Well… yes."

Serissa chewed the inside of her lip, her eyes flashing with anger. "You're unbelievable, you know that? Not only has your war with the Uprising spilled into my home, putting my kids in danger, but now you're asking me to harbor refugees? My home is not some kind of military base or homeless shelter, Nemaelle."

"But Serissa-"

"The answer is no! Absolutely not! I can't afford to let anybody else stay under this roof. If it were up to me, you of all would be out of here in the interest of keeping the kids out of the crossfire. But since its not up to me, I'm stuck. However, I do still have the power to turn these newcomers away. I appreciate that you came to me to ask, but the answer is still no. I'm sorry. They need to stay somewhere else."

Serissa was certainly expecting Nema to put up more of a fight. To argue. To try and fight for her friends like she always seemed to. Serissa was surprised to see Nema's shoulders slump slightly in a small and subtle display of defeat.

"I understand." Nema murmured. "I'll let them know."

"Please do."

Uriel sighed when Serissa closed the door. "I'm sorry, Nema. I thought she would-"

"No, no, its okay. She has every right to say no. This is her home and we've brought her nothing but trouble."

Uriel followed a dejected Nema back to the house's main living room. He felt terrible. Going to Serissa and requesting permission for Rujiel and Nyssa to stay with them had been Uriel's own idea. He was sure that Serissa would say yes… As callous as she sometimes could be, he knew that deep in her core, she was a good person. He had seen so much of that kinder, gentler side of her…

The sound of a baby crying pierced through the hall and flooded the living room where the others were. Lilliel was still upset, crying and crying. She hadn't slept or eaten since their ordeal, and one look at Nyssa's face nearly broke Uriel's heart.

"She won't stop crying." Nyssa said, blinking back her tears as she huddled on one of Serissa's couches, cradling her crying daughter. "Raphael, are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Raphael said gravely. "She's not hurt."

"Then why won't she stop crying? She won't eat…!" Nyssa's voice cracked, even as Rujiel held an arm around her in an attempt to comfort her. The two were exhausted and it showed all over their snowy faces.

"May I?"

Several pairs of eyes turned to the newcomer in the room. Uriel's heart leapt in his chest, and he had to fight a smile away. Serissa, as tired as she obviously was, stood in the doorway to the living room, staring with an obvious look of pity and worry at the couple and their infant on her couch.

Nyssa's red rimmed eyes lingered on the woman she didn't know, and she said nothing. It was Rujiel who nodded, granting Serissa permission.

She stepped up to the couple and reached out to gather the screaming child gently in her tattooed arms. "It's okay, little one. It's okay." She cooed at the baby, even over Lilliel's distressed wails. "Hand me that blanket behind you." She said to Rujiel, pointing with one hand as the other arm held Lilliel to her chest.

Rujiel grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the couch and quickly handed it to Serissa, watching with a father's worry and protectiveness as Serissa slowly knelt on the floor, spreading out the blanket over the carpet with one hand as the other expertly cradled Lilliel against her shoulder, her hand supporting Lilliel's head. "Shhh, shhh." Serissa hummed softly as she lay Lilliel on her back across the blanket. "She's been through quite an ordeal, I imagine." She said softly to Nyssa as she folded the blanket around Lilliel. "Babies like to feel constricted. It comforts them."

"Swaddling." Nyssa said, her eyes widening slightly. "I've never had to, with her. She's been such a happy baby."

"We can't always be happy, unfortunately." Serissa said, a frown tugging on her lips. As soon as Serissa folded the blanket tightly around Lilliel, leaving only her red little face exposed, her cries softened into light hiccuping. "There you go, sweet girl. That's better, isn't it?" She gathered Lilliel up into her arms, cradling her head in the crook of her elbow and slowly swaying her back and forth. The infant was asleep almost instantly.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room, and Nyssa began to openly weep with joy. "Thank you so much." She said, leaning her head against Rujiel's shoulder. "You didn't have to do that."

"I can't stand the thought of a distressed child." Serissa murmured, staring at Lilliel's face with a naked sort of adoration. "Your home was destroyed…?"

"Yes."

"You can stay here as long as you need to." Serissa said. She spoke in a tone that was uncharacteristically soft and tender. "In these strange times, it's hard to know just how much time you'll have left with your loved ones. You shouldn't spend that time worrying about something like a roof over your head."

Rujiel and Nyssa both sighed with relief and ultimate gratitude. "Thank you."

"Please don't mention it." Serissa stood and handed the sleeping Lilliel back to her mother. "I believe the room next to Michael and Nemaelle's is free. You are welcome to it." She stepped back. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Serissa left again before anybody could stop her. She was so tired… She felt instantly better, knowing that she had granted a few refugees a place to stay. But… she couldn't bring herself to think about how this could possibly backfire.

Lack of sleep wasn't the only thing weighing down on the woman. No… it was much more than that. The weight of juggling a life outside of the house, keeping the children safe… and knowing and feeling that steadily everything was starting to fall apart… it could take it's toll on anybody. As her bare feet carried her closer to her room and the voices of the others in her home faded completely, Serissa paused to lean against a wall, her shoulder brushing a framed picture of Chiyo on her seventh birthday.

Serissa didn't believe in God. Not in the way that some humans did. She didn't believe that there was any type of benevolent being watching out for her. After the things she had seen and endured in her long lifetime? She had very few things to believe in. The lives and happiness of her three adopted children were all she really trusted in. And yet in that moment, she felt an ache, a pleading feeling rush through her, and she closed her eyes.

She had never felt more alone. She had never felt so weak, like she was buckling beneath every massive thing piled on her back. She realized that she was tired of being alone. Tired of… all of it. She had been for many, many years. As silly as it may have been, she would have given anything to feel what Rujiel and Nyssa felt. Alone, facing the ultimate crisis… but still surrounded by people who cared. People willing to offer help when everything else was so dark and wretched.

She wished she had that kind of hope.

"Serissa?"

Opening her eyes, Serissa locked gazes with none other than the Angel of Earth. And the warmth and tenderness she saw reflected in those… beautiful green eyes nearly made her knees give out.

"Yes?" She tried to keep her voice from shaking. She tried to keep herself from releasing all the tears she suddenly felt like shedding.

"Thank you. For letting them stay here."

"It's nothing." Serissa forced a shrug.

"No. It isn't 'nothing'. Look at me." Uriel's fingers touched her chin, tilting her gaze back up to meet his when she quickly looked away. "You are an amazing woman. You astound me a little more, every time I see you."

Serissa swallowed, blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep her eyes dry. "If you really knew me, you wouldn't say that."

She watched him frown, like he was suddenly mustering up courage, and Serissa's stomach flipped. "I want to know you. I want to know you better than anybody else ever has."

"Uriel, I-"

Her words were stolen when Uriel leaned forward and kissed her. When he put one hand around her waist and cradled the back of her neck with the other. Serissa's legs finally failed her, and he was there to hold her up, to hold her against him and kiss her until she forgot why she was upset, in the first place.

"We shouldn't do this." Serissa said softly, her fingers threading through his brown hair.

"I know." Uriel breathed into her mouth, his grip on her body tightening. "But I want to. I… I need you, Serissa."

With those words, she felt the last bits of her resolve shatter. Their kiss heated, intensified, until his weight pushed into her. Chiyo's picture slipped off the wall and clattered to the floor. His hands roamed, bunching the fabric of her tunic top. Her fingers wrinkled his shirt.

"Come with me." Uriel's false voice came out as something gravelly and needy as he shoved himself away from her, his hand reaching out to lace with her fingers.

Serissa hurried behind him, squeezing his hand as he lead her through the halls of the mansion. Their breath came out rapid and loud as they rushed along, Uriel eager for the privacy of his room, Serissa eager for whatever Uriel had in store for her.

Once behind the closed door of his room, Uriel stripped off his cotton shirt and pulled her back into his arms, devouring her in another deep, invasive kiss. His movements weren't like the first time he had pulled her to him. As desperate as he was for her, he kept all of his actions deliberate… seductive.

"I'm not taking you like I did, before." He murmured to her, pulling her close enough to carry her with him into the soft sheets of his bed. "Don't bite me. I don't want your venom…" He watched Serissa's chocolate hair fan out of his pillow as he lay her back, staring at her wide and confused eyes with adoration and need. "Tonight is about you. Tonight is about me giving you everything you deserve."

"Uriel-"

"Shhh." He silenced her with another kiss. He didn't let her say anything. The only sounds he would grant her were her soft sighs and moans of pleasure as he slowly stripped off every stitch of her clothing, and kissed every bit of flesh he exposed.

He didn't enter her until he had brought her to orgasm, using only his mouth. His hands pinned her pale thighs and his tongue pleasured her until he saw ultimate passion on her face, sweat glimmering in the light of the full moon filtering through his window.

Murmuring things she couldn't understand, he left a new trail of kisses over her stomach and breasts as she lay, dazed, in the wake of her climax. He pressed his chest to hers when he finally fused their naked bodies in the most intimate embrace a pair could share. They cried their pleasure against each others' ears, writhing in a powerful, intimate intercourse that shattered both of them.

Her fingernails bit into his back when she orgasmed again, and the feeling of her inner muscles tightening around him finally made Uriel softly cry her name when he reached his own climax.

Flesh slippery with perspiration, Uriel eased himself up onto his elbows, his hips still flexing hard against her pelvis with the aftereffects of their tryst. He looked down at her, panting.

He didn't know how long they stared at one another, studying the open fear on each others' faces… both of them terrified of whatever they had just unlocked between them.

"Stay with me, Serissa…" Uriel said, despite the falling and soaring feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Stay with me…"

"Yes."

Uriel rolled off of her and pulled her tight against his body, breathing in the soft scent of her hair. He listened to her rapid breath slowly even out, and he finally slept. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around her for the rest of the night.

Serissa slept, and despite all of her fears and aching and longing in her heart… She slept with a smile on her face.

xXxXxXx

Nema couldn't muster much of a farewell for her friends... only the slight bowing of her head before she turned on her heel and began striding back to her room. She tried to be happy. She tried to be relieved. Nema knew that she should have been; Rujiel and Nyssa wouldn't be at a loss for shelter with their infant daughter...

Why couldn't she be happy?

No sooner than she'd stepped into her room – empty, Nathan having introduced Abel to Aaron and Isobelle kept in the care of Jibril ever since she'd left for Heaven – her phone began to ring. Dulled down ruby eyes saw the name of the caller on her screen, and her frown grew. Conversations with him only further ruffled her feathers... but she couldn't ever ignore his calls. "Raziel."

"Nema." The Prime Minister answered in kind. At least she wasn't the only one at her wit's end... "I need you to release a statement about the rioting."

"What, right now? Right this second? Are you going to hold your phone up to the microphones?"

Raziel sighed, just like he always seemed to sigh when Nema couldn't keep the venom off her tongue. "Not right this second, but as soon as possible."

"You don't want my statement, Raziel." Nema jaw tensed, and the snowy fingers of her free hand curled into her dark, full skirt. "Nobody is going to want my statement because it's not politically correct."

"I can have my people edit it." He said flatly and waited for the heat to come through his phone and into his ear.

"Edit!" Here it came, already... "Your people can't edit a single thing I want to say about Azrael and his fucking cult! That is the only way I can even rationalize those people doing what they did! He's brainwashed them! So if you want my statement, you can release it as is, and your people can accept it!"

His golden brows furrowed together. "They're your people too, Nema. Everyone in Parliament is. You're one of us. Are you listening to me?" He couldn't blame her for forgetting. For doubting in the face of all of this...

"Am I? Is the so-called Queen of Rabbits one of them? Are they my people? It wasn't long ago when apparently they thought I should use my rape to garner sympathy! I mean, what even possesses a person to think of that? To remember dirty laundry I had to air in court, years ago?"

"... I don't know, Nema. I don't know." Raziel heaved another sigh. "The court transcripts are public record. It's possible that some of our officials were... digging. I haven't endeavored to find out."

Nema hadn't realized that she began pacing, her gaze trained to the windows looking down into the backyard. To her husband in the midst of sparring with the Princess of Evils. "And I'm supposed to feel like I'm a part of this group? Every amendment and measure I've pushed, Raziel. Every single one, they've dragged their feet and pulled them into debate and torn them apart, and then they do things like that! My mother meets plenty of resistance of her own, but even she hasn't had to deal with something so... so...!" She couldn't think of a word potent enough for her angry pain. "I don't want to be a part of this game and play with these people!"

The beat of silence felt longer than it truly was. "What are you trying to say, Nema...?"

"I don't know; I don't know what I'm trying to...!"

Raziel heard a strange, cracking, shuddering breath that made him sit straighter in the leather office chair. "Hey... Nema, I need you to calm down... Okay? This is me speaking as a friend, right now. You need to relax. You've put your body through a lot, yesterday."

Nema's lips pursed together in a moody pout, her hand rising to her temple. "Not any more than the others."

"... Are you really trying to lie to me, Nema? You put yourself through so much of a strain you started bleeding out of your face! This isn't normal!"

Her eyes had been shut in all her frustration. They shot wide open again, her footfalls freezing. "Raphael spoke to you?"

"What? No, your equally-crazy husband did!"

"Michael?" She hurried to the nearest window, pale hand pressed to the glass as she glared down into the backyard.

"Who else? Calling to deliver death threats, as if I answer for you driving yourself into the ground!"

Nema listened to the Prime Minister bemoan her recklessness with a sour frown, her glare eventually burning hot enough against the crown of Michael's head to get his attention... She couldn't hold eye contact with him for more than half a second before she tore a curtain across the window. "Sometimes I just want to tear his head open!"

"Yeah, right. Look, I don't want to get into whatever is going on with you and him. I just don't want you dripping blood out of your eyesand Michael slaughtering me for it!"

"He's not going to slaughter you for anything, Raziel! The bleeding most likely happened because I was trying to pop people open, and failing at it! It's not because I'm stressed over how ridiculous our government is!"

"And all the same, here you are telling me how you don't want to take part in this ridiculous government! Nema, nothing is going to change with that outlook. You know this."

"Nothing is changing now! Why do you think the Uprising even exists? I may as well not even be here!"

"No, Nema, we need you!" Raziel's voice rose over hers, hoping to reach the distraught Rabbit Queen. "We need you. I have tried... over and over, to get you to understand. You're so... young, Nema. You're so young, and you keep thinking like a human. Maybe you can't help that; I don't know." He heard an audible sigh on the other end of the line, and could only hope that it was one of resignation. Not an attempt to shut him out. "It hasn't even been a decade, Nema. I need you to understand that."

"A decade is-"

"A decade is nothing. It is literally... nothing. I don't know how to make you understand, Nema. We aren't human. We don't live these... short little lives. We don't live like mayflies. A decade is such a short time, to try to do so much, and you're trying to break down eons worth of cultural stigma and habit..."

Nema returned to pacing, pausing at the little table to pick one of the shards of glass from a small bowl she kept for her attempts at regaining her power... "You talk to me about decades and eons, Raziel. Tell that to our people, and all the suffering they endure. They are still our people, right? Or have you forgotten what it means to be a Rabbit?"

Raziel felt the jarring, ice-cold metaphorical water run over him. "They're my people, Nema. I am what I am..."

"And yet you keep it secret. Even now. Even years later."

"Not even a decade has gone by, Nema!" Raziel managed to snap after shaking off the verbal slap. "See? This is exactly what I'm talking about! You want too much, too fast! You would make Heaven crumble!"

"Would I, Raziel? Or would I make all these stuffy Parliament council members and everyone like them crumble? Why do the age-old majority get to be babied and coddled through this, and not our hurting minority? And why is that every time I ask this, they look at me like I'm Azrael himself?"

"Because you sound like him! Talking about people crumbling! Pointing fingers at me for a decision that is mine to make! I already have to deal with the truth traveling around in tabloids, Nema; I'm lucky that no one takes them seriously! If I come out, how does that make me look? I've been lying to the faces of everyone I've worked with for my entire career! You think I'd even be able to stay in office if I told everyone, now?" Raziel paused when he realized he was yelling. "We bear our crosses, Nema. I know you feel like everyone is against you. Including me... But Nema, Heaven needs you. You have this... drive in you, that is so hard to find in an Angel... and it will help Heaven, in the end. But you are fighting a system that is so much larger and more solid than you can imagine. You can't wrap this up in human years. I wish that you could, but you can't. Everyone who's tried has suffered immensely for it... And Nema, if you keep going this way, you will, too."

For every heartfelt, sincere word that had left Raziel's lips, Nema audibly scoffed. "I haven't done hardly anything, apart from seeing all of my attempts at change swatted down, and then allowing myself to take the heat for it, from people who have every right to believe I've failed them!"

"... God dammit, Nema, listen to me!"

"I'm done with this conversation."

"Nema, you need to slow down! You need to slow down before you get destroyed for it!"

"Goodbye, Raziel." She didn't wait for him to reply, immediately hanging up on him before she could just... start screaming. The sudden bite of glass into her palm forced a single cry out of her, and she shook the bloody shard back into the bowl. Blood rose to the surface, beading before it overflowed, running across the lines of her palm, down along her fingers. She blinked back the tears blurring her vision so that she could keep staring at her latest wounds, and hate herself for it.

She was the Queen of Rabbits, and she was a mess. No wonder Raziel felt the need to lecture her...

Her phone rang again, and she didn't take the time to check and see who might be calling, screaming, tearing the battery from her phone with bloody fingers and tossing them both into the bowl of broken glass.

And then she took off, leaving her phone behind.

Nema told herself that it was okay that nobody could reach her. She liked that nobody could reach her. She didn't want to hear from anybody. Not even Michael, and it tore her even more than she already was... but it was true. She didn't want to hear from him, either, and yet she hoped that he was trying to call her now. She hoped that it drove him mad, the way it drove her mad that he somehow managed to share a set of rooms and have a family with her, and yet became utterly absent. How did he do it? The last time they had a conversation, it was him grumbling about her being too reckless, and then going to bed.

Michael found her too reckless? Hilarious! So hilarious that she wore some twisted kind of smile when she bought things. Kerosene and matches. A bit of gauze to wrap around her wounded hand. She caved and bought another phone, some cheap little model, pay as you go. Maybe she'd call him, hopeless as she was. Reaching out to him while he busied himself with training that hussy of a Princess.

She hated how oblivious he could be. Was it so hard to see that the Princess wanted him? That the Queen needed him even more?

She'd call him. She wrapped the gauze around her hand. She wouldn't call him. She found that accursed building, the building that used to be her home, and now belonged to Azrael and his horrible group. She'd call him. She laughed at all the open entryways spaced out around the very bottom, the little rabbit holes that used to belong to her, and now belonged to the leader of the Uprising.

She wouldn't call him. She began splashing kerosene into every rabbit hole, dumping it, the liquid running along the floors.

She'd call him. She lit matches and tossed them in.

She wouldn't call him. She watched as every hole began to glow orange, heard all those poster-covered walls go up with alarming swiftness, and she laughed.

She'd call him. She got to the last rabbit hole and was suddenly mortified at what she was doing, jumping in through that final hole, running for the nearest fire alarm and pulling it before the fire could grow too strong.

She wouldn't call him. She scrambled back out, and she tried to walk away, just walk away while suddenly crying.

She'd call him. She stopped when she was two blocks down the road and turned to see how quickly the fire had overtaken the building, to hear everyone inside scrambling out from orange fire and into the orange sunset.

She wouldn't call him... but she would call Azrael, dialing the number she remembered from days when Parliament and the Uprising were actually speaking.

"This had better be important." His voice was bewildered, irritated at what had befallen him.

And for all Nema's tears, that made her happy. "You should consider yourself a lucky fucking bunny, Azrael. You're alive." She reveled in the surprised pause he gave her.

"Who is this? Did you do this?" Azrael spoke in angry growls.

She spoke over him. She had no room left in her heart to listen to Azrael speak. "You're alive, and you know what? It's because of me. That's the difference between us. You'll light a whole neighborhood on fire because they're your enemy and you don't care if they die. You don't give them a chance to save themselves, like a respectable fucking person. I did. I pulled the alarm, which means I woke your ass up. I saved you, even though you're my enemy."

He recognized the voice as she ranted against him, and despite the clamor of his group hurrying around him, he found himself smiling. "Hello to you, too, Nemaelle..."

Still she spoke over him. "So hey, maybe next time, we can talk about who's the nice one, here. The other day, you left an infant homeless. I hope you think about that before you go to sleep, Azrael."

"Is this your idea of mercy?" Azrael countered as his fellow Uprising members all scrambled to account for each other.

"Yes, it is."

"Then you're out of your mind!" He scoffed at her.

"Oh, am I?" Nema seethed, her nails pressing hard into the gauze wrapped around her wounded hand. "You send your sheep out into a residential area with guns! You let them set everything on fire, everything! You have them carve words into people's bodies, and you have them toss babies off of the roofs of buildings! But I'm the one out of my mind?"

Did he really have to go over this again? Azrael already heard it all from Celestiel, had already mentally berated himself for it. He didn't need this from the woman he had finally, successfully shattered. "The protest-"

"Is that what you call what you did? A protest?"

"It got out of hand." He hoped that Nema could hear the shrugging of his shoulders in his voice. He hoped it would crush her even more. "But they've been downtrodden for so long thanks to the government you've chosen to uphold. They are restless and their anger took over. There was no way that I could calm them down-"

"I'm sorry, is that supposed to make me sympathize with you? If you can't keep the people who follow you from going fucking nuts, you shouldn't be leading them!"

Azrael gave her a short laugh. At least one thing was finally going right... "Is that what this is, then? An assassination attempt that you went back on, at the last minute?" He teased her, incensed her.

"Oh, assassination...! Someone really loves the sound of their voice!" Nema sneered in response. "No, Azrael. This is me telling you that I'm done. I'm finished with being gentle with you. This is literally the last time that I'm electing to walk away. The next time you see my face, then it will be to 'assassinate' you. You can have your masked woman take my power away, but I promise that I can still kill you. I can still kill anyone I want to."

"You talk big, Nema... but I'm used to that, coming from you." He kept his voice firm for every angry quiver he heard in Nema's words. "Celestiel has crippled you, but even if she hadn't? I know you're not going to kill me. If you wanted to, you would have, by now."

Pain flashed through Nema's gauze-wrapped hand, and she looked down to see that her nails had pressed so tightly into her palm, she'd bled clean through the soft, white material. "Don't mistake my mercy for cowardice!"

"Then come here. Kill me. I'm not going anywhere." He heard the hissing of breath drawn through clenched teeth, and continued pressing hard on every inner bruise he could find. "Bring Michael. God knows he wants the chance to kill me, too. Where is your little husband? I'm surprised he isn't cackling like a maniac over the burning rubble. Seems like something he would be doing."

The very mention of his name made tears track down her face. She was sick of him. She needed him. "Why should I tell you where that wretched man is?"

"Ah, trouble in paradise?" Azrael was happy to find another knife to twist. "Perhaps without your power, he sees you as the inadequate little thing you really are."

"All this obsession with my power!" Nema bellowed. "I don't need to be an Aion to possess the power to crush you!"

He rose to her threats with a smile so smug, she could feel it through the phone. "You're trying to keep yourself in the game, and I understand that. But you need to understand that you're no longer a player. My Celestiel saw to that, didn't she?"

"Fuck your precious Celestiel!" It felt childish and wonderful to say that. "You think she frightens me? You are very mistaken!"

"Oh, you poor little Queen." Azrael sighed in mock-pity. "You have no idea just how cunning she can be."

Nema's eyes shut tight, and yet the tears of too many feelings, all at once, kept pushing through her snowy lashes. A choked up gasp left her, and she realized that it must have been loud enough for him to hear... Her feet carried her away, aimless and lost, as Azrael kept up his verbal slaughter.

"If she had done as I told her to do, you'd be dead. But she is as cruel as she is clever, isn't she? She's made you useless. So you can set fire to our homes and bite at our ankles all you want, Worthless Queen. But you're not going to stop anything. The only thing you have proven is that you're just as 'heartless' as I am, regardless of getting cold feet and pulling a fire alarm. And now? The rest of 'your people' can see your true colors. So congratulations, Nemaelle. You've made my job much, much easier."

"Are you pushing me, Azrael?"

That single question managed to come through with a deadly, heated hiss, and Azrael's smiling eyes shifted toward the burning building as its very foundations creaked and cracked in warning of its collapse.

"I don't think you understand. All of this... every single move that you have made. This has been a fucking cake walk for you so far because I've let it be that fucking easy. Do not push me unless you want a war. Do you want a war...?"

The building that had held so much history crumbled onto itself, and Azrael heard her voice drop to a low quiver.

"Push me and I'll give you a war... I'll give you a war that you won't believe."

"Well then... it looks like it's my move now, isn't it?" He chuckled to her. "I want a war, Nemaelle. I crave war. I dream of putting you and that little Council of yours in their proper place. I've already succeeded with you, it looks like. You'll be getting my response to this little tantrum soon enough." He let the dial tone punctuate his returning threat, ending his call with a smile.

Azrael pocketed his phone and looked on as the others struggled to douse the flames. Celestiel wasn't going to happy about how things were escalating… Of course she wouldn't be happy. His smile faded. Celestiel was breaking, crumbling. Long ago, he had promised her that he would give her her perfect world. And he would.

But he would have to do it his own way.