Page 9 of Conquest (The Four Horsemen #1)

8

Conquest felt the sting of the blade across his stomach. He winced and held a hand against the wound as it healed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Conquest snarled at Abaddon. They were already fighting a losing battle, and they were supposed to be on the same side. Neither of them had time for this bullshit. He’d lost sight of his brethren because of this petty argument.

“I’ve come to collect my prize.”

“Prize for what? Losing?” Conquest twirled his glaive and counteracted Abaddon’s next attack with a mighty swing, flinging the Demon’s sword away. “Go crawl back in your hole.” Conquest had slept with plenty of Demons, but he would never sleep with this one. No-one who slid into his bed ever came out of it whole, if they were even lucky enough to come out of it alive. Diablo was short a few marbles, but Abaddon had never had any to begin with.

“Oh, I will,” Abaddon assured him. He sliced his own arm and licked the blood that swelled and pooled there. “And I’m taking you with me. You’ll taste so sweet, hanging in my parlor.”

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Conquest sneered, “or I’ll rip yours off.”

“Don’t tease, Connie. You’re getting me so turned on I want to cut my dick off just to feel it regrow while I make you eat it.”

Conquest’s face curled in disgust. “You’re fucked up.”

Abaddon grinned. “I’m a visionary, Con. Don’t be so precious.”

Conquest reached for his energy, gathering it around his crown and directing it down through his weapon. He swiped with the glaive at the same time that he threw out a bolt of energy. The glaive missed, but the bolt toppled Abaddon, who flew through the air and landed in a heap on his back. Conquest was on him before he could get up, one armored foot pressed on Abaddon’s sternum, his glaive digging into his neck just enough that blood trickled beneath it. “How about I cut out your tongue and make you choke on it?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Abaddon gurgled. He bent his head, causing the blade to dig deeper, and licked across it, slicing open his tongue. He swallowed, tasting his own blood. “I taste good. Your mare tasted better.”

Conquest faltered in shock. He knew Victory was gone, had felt her die. Had it happened at this Demon’s hand? A Demon whose side they were fighting on?

Abaddon used the temporary distraction to shove Conquest’s weapon away from his throat, and roll to a standing position.

Conquest kicked Abaddon’s hip, breaking it, and wrapped a hand around his throat before he could fall, squeezing so hard one of Abaddon’s eyes popped. “What did you do to my horse?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I’m going to kill you.” Conquest leant in close enough to see the burst blood vessels in the white of his eye. “And then I’ll find your soul, and kill that too, so you never come back.”

“Doesn’t work like that, but I’ll enjoy playing hide and seek with you,” Abaddon said. His grin was maniacal and his remaining good eye rolled back in his head, as though he were getting pleasure from the pain Conquest was causing.

“Conquest!”

Conquest turned his head, spotting War a hundred or so meters away.

“We need to go, now.”

Conquest nodded.

“Leaving so soon?” The words came out almost as a whine. “But we haven’t finished yet.”

Conquest gripped Abaddon’s throat tighter and then pulled, ripping it open. He sliced across Abaddon’s stomach with his glaive, carving him neatly in two.

He smashed his boot into his face for good measure, crushing it.

Abaddon died with a smile on his face, and a gurgling laugh in his throat.

Conquest jolted awake to the sight of Raziel standing over him, face unnervingly close to his own. He was off the sofa and pressing Raziel against the wall in an instant, his hand wrapped around the Angel’s small throat.

“What are you doing?” Conquest growled.

“You made a noise,” Raziel croaked out, the fragile muscles fluttering against Conquest’s palm.

Conquest tightened his grip. “So you thought you’d come and check? Come to kill me in my sleep?” The Angel didn’t have the power to do it before Conquest could retaliate and they both knew it, but if the intent was there Conquest would still keep his guard up.

Raziel tried to shake his head but Conquest was keeping a firm hold. “No,” he gasped out. “I wasn’t-I wasn’t-”

He was so impossibly earnest. His emotions were right there on his face, for anyone to see. An unforgivable weakness, in Conquest’s eyes, and one that anyone could exploit.

Conquest threaded his free hand through Raziel’s hair and pulled it back tight, forcing the Angel to look up. His bright eyes were wide, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths.

It heated Conquest’s blood.

He loosened his hold, just enough that Raziel could get in proper, deeper breaths. Conquest leaned in and took Raziel’s left earlobe into his mouth. The way his aura shifted, from scared into something much sweeter, was delicious.

Conquest rolled the earlobe between his teeth, and then gave one short tug. Raziel’s pulse jumped beneath his hand.

Conquest took a deep breath, taking in the Angel’s scent. The fear-laced sweat mixed with a mild mint was intriguing. He latched onto Raziel’s neck, tasting, to see whether it matched.

Raziel’s back arched on a gasp, his fingers twisting in Conquest’s shirt. “Wh-what are you doing?” Raziel asked, a tremor in his voice that made Conquest’s dick twitch in his suit pants.

He bit down hard enough that he tasted the barest hint of blood. He licked the spot, searching rather than soothing.

When he pulled back Raziel’s eyes were still wide and bright but there was heat in them too. A different kind of fear. One that spoke of innocence, of the unknown. Of soft, untouched skin, just waiting to be sullied.

He let go of the Angel and enjoyed watching as he slumped back against the wall, unable to hold himself up without the support.

“There’s an outfit on the bed in your room; put it on and come back here. You have five minutes.”

Raziel hesitated.

“You have four minutes,” Conquest said. “Move, now, or I’ll decrease your time again.” He snapped his fingers and an hourglass appeared on the coffee table, the sand beginning to pour. “If that reaches zero before you’re down here I’ll come change you myself. You won’t enjoy it, I promise you.”

Raziel hurried from the room.

Conquest admired the way the jeans tightened around his plump ass with every step.

* * *

Raziel tugged at the collar on his shirt. Conquest had forced him to wear a black three-piece suit, similar to the one the Horseman was currently wearing, along with a stupid tie and shoes that were stiff and pinched his toes. He thought he’d look ridiculous - who would willingly wear an outfit that made you look like a penguin? - but it turned out that everyone at this stupid dinner event was wearing the same thing he was.

Conquest had told him on the way here, as he drove the terrifyingly fast car, that they were attending a dinner party at the White House, being held by the President. Raziel understood the concept of a President, and the importance the title held. What he didn’t understand was why he had to dress in this monstrosity to attend said dinner party.

“Stop,” Conquest said. He took hold of Raziel’s hand, halting his movements.

“It’s uncomfortable.”

Conquest gave Raziel a slow once-over. “Looks fine to me.”

Raziel could feel his body flush, and just knew his cheeks were turning red. Why did Conquest keep looking at him like that? And why did he keep touching and-and biting him?

Raziel bit his lip when Conquest wrapped an arm around him and shepherded him through the large opulent doors that led them out of the vestibule. They emerged in a large room that Conquest had called the ‘East Room’ where dozens of people were standing around, drinking wine and mingling. Servers balancing trays on one hand were flitting between them, stopping every few moments to allow people to partake in the food from the tray. Raziel itched to go and see what they had, to find out what it all tasted like, but Conquest had a hold of him and didn’t seem ready to relinquish his grip.

Raziel’s shoes clicked on the antique red marble flooring, before the sound was muffled by the woolen carpets spanning a good portion of the floor. The warm cream walls were offset by the gold draperies over the almost wall-length windows. Raziel stared in awe at the beautiful lights hanging from the ceiling either side of the room. He wanted to know what they were, but he couldn’t get up there to touch.

“Chandeliers.”

Raziel faltered, turning his head to look at Conquest. “What?”

“The lights in the ceiling. They’re called chandeliers.”

Oh. Chandelier . It even sounded beautiful.

Raziel studied the mortals as they walked past. The males wore suits similar to what he and Conquest were wearing. The females wore dresses that reminded Raziel more of his Angelic robes, though they were far more pleasing to look upon; eye-catching, shiny, and colorful.

“I thought this was a dinner party?” Raziel said. The small pieces of food making their way around the room looked delicious, but they didn’t make Raziel think ‘dinner’.

“Before dinner drinks,” Conquest murmured. “Stay close to me.” He began to steer Raziel around the room.

Raziel swallowed hard, nodding. Was his skin extra sensitive or was it just Conquest that was causing these reactions? He’d never been touched before, not by other Angels. Touch was precious, sacred and given only to those within an Angel’s circle. Raziel had never been welcome.

They spent the next few hours moving from person to person. They’d barely moved any distance at all but Raziel was exhausted, and stimulated in a way he wasn’t familiar with. What was Conquest doing to him? He felt like he was a live wire, every touch and caress from Conquest a sensual torment Raziel didn’t know what to do with.

“All right?”

The warm breath of air at the nape of his neck caused a shiver to roll down his back. Raziel was unsure if ‘all right’ was correct, but he nodded wordlessly anyway.

Conquest placed a hand on the small of Raziel’s back and stroked gently with his thumb as he continued to speak to the crowd around them.

Raziel stared wistfully at a tray of food as it passed.

Conquest snapped his fingers, without pausing his conversation.

The tray of food stopped, floating mid-air as the server continued on, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Raziel sent Conquest a questioning look but the Horseman wasn’t looking at him. His thumb was still drawing lazy circles on Raziel’s back, though, and Raziel was extremely aware of it.

“Eat.”

Raziel glanced behind himself to confirm that Conquest was speaking to him.

“I won’t tell you again.”

Definitely speaking to him, then.

Raziel touched the food, and the white fabric beside it.

Shrimp with Cajun seasoning, salmon and caviar puff pastry towers, pepper jelly-coated cheese cakes and smoked salmon crostini, napkin; used for wiping your mouth and hands clean.

He picked up the salmon and caviar first. He spied the mortals around him and how they were eating it, and followed their lead, popping it into his mouth

Oh. Party in his mouth was right! It was soft and practically melted as he chewed. He ate another three before moving onto the others. He devoured every piece from the tray in short order, each new taste as extraordinary as the last. No wonder so many human rituals revolved around food. Why wouldn’t you take every opportunity you could to eat if it was like this?

After Raziel had used the napkin and placed it back on the tray, it disappeared. Raziel didn’t even bother asking.

Conquest pressed his hand against Raziel, urging him forward and they moved on to a new set of mortals.

Conquest spoke to each and every person he encountered. The conversations were all the same; the weather, current political events, and their families. Raziel gave up wondering how Conquest knew anything about a person’s children or spouse or other family members. Everyone just seemed to know who Conquest was, and accept that he and Raziel were meant to be there. As far as Raziel knew, the Horsemen hadn’t set foot in the Mortal Dimension for thousands, if not millions, of years.

It was almost as eerie as the way that Conquest’s crown - that Raziel could now see and he didn’t know what to make of that either - pulsed after every conversation and his signature purple energy wrapped itself around the mortal before sinking into them.

A lady wearing a stunning dark blue dress with elegant black heels, and shiny bracelets on her left wrist approached them. Her brown hair was curled and pulled to the side, tumbling down her slender shoulder and emphasizing the glittering jewel hanging from her ear.

“Madame President,” Conquest said in greeting.

She smiled warmly and held up her hand for Conquest to hold. “Call me Adelaide, please.”

Conquest took her hand briefly but didn’t kiss it, instead simply inclining his head. Adelaide didn’t seem to notice, her smile curling indecently. Her gaze flicked briefly to Raziel, taking in the way Conquest was holding him securely to his side, but didn’t greet him.

Raziel hadn’t expected her to anyway. He might as well have not been there, for all anyone had looked at him that evening.

Raziel studied Conquest as the Horseman made small talk with the American leader. He had noticed that a lot of people stared at Conquest with that same hungry look in their eyes. And while Raziel knew they were seeing the Demon vessel, rather than Conquest himself the way Raziel did, he was sure they would have stared anyway. The Horseman was incredibly attractive, horrid personality withstanding. His stupidly tall frame was pure lean muscle, and filled out the dark grey suit he wore in a way that made Raziel’s mouth water. At a basic level Raziel knew that he liked looking. He didn’t know what that meant but his knees felt a little weak if he spent too much time looking. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant, just unfamiliar enough that Raziel was unsure how to handle it.

Raziel tuned back into the conversation as Conquest’s crown did its thing again. It was fascinating, the way the wisps of energy shot out of it, twining around the President’s much smaller frame.

She had moved closer to Conquest, had a hand on his sculpted arm, in fact.

Raziel scowled. When had she started touching him? Raziel knew he didn’t look intimidating, but Conquest was wrapped around him like a second skin and holding him hostage. Was he so insignificant that his proximity to Conquest meant nothing to these mortals?

Conquest raised a brow at Raziel. “Something the matter?”

It was only then that Raziel realized he’d stiffened against Conquest. “I smell food,” he blurted out. Which, while not relevant, was true. The servers had stopped coming around with their trays, but Raziel could still smell something. He wondered where the kitchen was. Would Conquest let him go look?

Conquest tilted his head in acknowledgement. “It was an absolute pleasure to see you,” Conquest told the President. The energy that had been swirling around her disappeared beneath her skin. She stared ahead, unblinking, before she shook herself.

“Yes, you as well, Conquest. I’ll think on what you said; I believe you’re right, we need to make preparations now.”

“Of course,” Conquest agreed. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Raziel frowned as Conquest led him away. He craned his neck to look back at where the President had begun speaking to an older couple. “What preparations? You didn’t talk to her about anything like that.” He didn’t think so, anyway. He hadn’t zoned out that long.

“Didn’t I?”

“No,” Raziel insisted. He might have, but Raziel was committed now.

“Not every conversation needs to be advertised. Discretion is an important skill, Raziel. One you’d best learn.”

“Your crown,” Raziel said, understanding dawning. That’s what he’d been doing with it? Some sort of subliminal mind manipulation?

Conquest smiled and something in the way it was directed at Raziel warmed him from the inside out.

“Clever Angel. Yes, my crown. It’s far too easy to manipulate a mortal’s thoughts, their feelings. Add some distrust of certain governing powers, suspicion from overseas leaders, and the threads of chaos begin to twine together.”

Until War. Conquest was starting a war.

Raziel knew, theoretically, what Conquest was here to do, and that the Four Horsemen were the bringers of the Apocalypse. He had just never thought about exactly how they accomplished that.

He looked down at the floor as they walked, feeling suddenly queasy. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be here to witness it.

He wanted to go home. The Archangels had abandoned him, but the Heavens were all he had ever known and he just wanted to go home. He’d always despaired that he would be stuck in the Heavens for eternity, a dud Angel no-one ever spoke to.

Right now, he would give anything to be back there. Alone, but safe.

“Agh!” Without warning Raziel found himself pushed against the wall of the empty hallway they had been walking down, Conquest leaning down and into his space.

The Horseman nuzzled his neck, causing goosebumps to spring up on Raziel’s skin. Was he going to - would he put his mouth on him like he had back at the estate? He unconsciously tipped his head to the side a fraction, just enough to give Conquest more room if he wanted to. It was only polite.

“You smell good,” Conquest whispered.

“Th-thank you?” Raziel’s breath hitched when Conquest’s hand brushed aside his suit jacket, holding onto his slim hips.

What was - God, what was Conquest doing? Was his tongue making patterns on his neck?

He gripped Conquest’s shirt, trying to keep upright as his knees turned to jelly. His eyes slid closed as Conquest kissed along his shoulder and up his neck, across his throat. Even through the fabric, everywhere his lips touched felt like it was burning.

Raziel felt breath against his lips and his eyes shot open to find Conquest’s lips so close to his that he could almost feel him, like a whisper meant for them alone. He froze, their eyes locked.

Conquest truly had beautiful eyes. Molten silver that moved like liquid metal.

Was he- was he going to kiss Raziel?

Raziel wasn’t even sure he was breathing as he waited. He was hot, and cold, and so utterly confused as his toes curled and his mouth went dry.

Conquest moved away and held out a hand. “Come, the kitchen is this way.”

It took Raziel a long, harrowing moment to move. He grasped Conquest’s cold hand and followed obediently, telling himself that he wasn’t disappointed. He didn’t want Conquest to kiss him. It wasn’t - Conquest wasn’t - Maybe Raziel had imagined it, or Conquest was just playing with him.

His already pathetic existence was rapidly turning into a nightmare he wasn’t sure he would ever wake from.

* * *

Conquest watched Raziel from the doorway, his shoulder leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest. The Angel was flitting between the navy Chefs, firing questions at them as they finished preparing the dishes for the evening meal.

He could still feel the way Raziel had looked at him, how his aura had shifted so dramatically when the Angel had thought Conquest was going to kiss him.

He would kiss the Angel, but not yet. Everything was going the way that Conquest had expected it to, the Angel wasn’t just accepting his touch, he was beginning to like it. When Conquest did eventually kiss him, the Angel would crave it.

The uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Conquest’s stomach, however, was not part of the plan.

Raziel was merely a means to an end, nothing more. He would turn him inside out, make him desperate for Conquest, and then send him back to the Angels, irrevocably broken.

One of the Chefs ran into Raziel, the pot of boiling water in his hands flying in the air.

Conquest jerked forward, sudden terror lancing through him. He flung his hand out, channeling his energy and using it as a shield around Raziel’s slight frame.

The water hissed as it hit the protective barrier, evaporating instantly.

Raziel’s eyes were wide with shock.

Conquest yanked the Angel close to him. “Did it get you? “

The Chef tried to apologize and Conquest flicked his wrist, silencing him. “Go back to work,” he ordered, wrapping his power around the mortal’s mind.

The Chef nodded numbly, picked up the pot and moved on as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Life returned to the room and the staff moved around the pair, their minds blanked of anything abnormal.

Conquest pulled Raziel aside anyway. He thread his power through Raziel, checking for any burns, or damage.

He placed a hand on his shoulder to stop himself from pulling the Angel into his arms. What the hell was wrong with him? Who cared if the Angel physically damaged himself; he would heal in a matter of minutes. That wasn’t tied to his power, or lack of, it was tied to his immortality. None of them were easy to kill.

“Come,” Conquest said, not allowing any of the terror to make its way into his voice. “The food will be ready soon; time to find our seats.”

Conquest chose the table he knew the President would be seated at and pulled the chair out for Raziel to take a seat. The Angel was clearly still shaken; he didn’t acknowledge Conquest, merely sat in the seat indicated and allowed Conquest to push him in.

Conquest settled beside him and picked a wine bottle from the ice bucket in the center of the table. He poured some into the glass in front of Raziel before handing it to him. “Drink.”

“What is it?”

“Just drink it.”

Raziel took a tentative sip. The grimace said everything.

Chuckling, Conquest selected a different bottle and poured it into his own glass. “Try this one.”

Raziel happily drank half the glass of the Rosé Conquest had selected.

Once Conquest was satisfied that Raziel was happy with his alcohol and a garlic breadstick, he easily picked up conversation with the mortal opposite them.

He placed a hand on Raziel’s thigh as he spoke. The fact that Raziel accepted the contact without hesitation was a good sign. The Angel had clearly been deprived of any sensation, any touch, anything that resembled positive reinforcement. It would be almost too easy to have him craving it.

God had never properly understood that the pleasures of the flesh were far more enticing than any promises he could make for the preservation of the soul.

* * *

Raziel bobbed along happily as Conquest led him outside. The food at dinner had been divine, and the drink that Conquest had kept filling his glass with had been amazing also. He was feeling a little fuzzy and a lot happy. There were many things that mortals had going for them, now that he thought about it. Good food and red liquid; what more did one need?

Raziel’s mouth dropped open when they entered the gardens. The sky was a deep black, with beautiful stars twinkling brightly, and the moon elegantly lording over them all.

Raziel had seen the night sky during his brief time with the mortals but, coupled with the gorgeous scenery and the company, he had to admit that it was breath-taking.

“Where are we?”

“First Lady’s Garden,” Conquest said. He urged Raziel out onto the pathway and Raziel happily did as he was told.

Raziel trailed his hand across the green wall. Holly hedge. Gorgeous. He touched the flowers gently as he passed them. Tulips, pansies, chrysanthemum. So many different colors and shapes. Magnificent. The layout was small but every part of it was beautiful, even down to the luscious green grass.

Raziel glanced at his shoes, at the grass, and then back at his shoes. He kicked off the uncomfortable footwear and tugged off his white socks without hesitation.

He ran across the grass. The feel of the grass between his toes was indescribable. Soft, but squishy. Nothing like the Heavenly clouds. They should have grass in the Heavens. Why didn’t they?

“Take off your shoes!” Raziel ordered. He threw his arms wide and spun around and around and around, laughing.

He stopped, dizziness impairing his vision. He threw out a hand to balance himself, meeting warm, firm muscle.

Conquest smirked at him. Raziel glanced down but he was still wearing shoes. Boring.

“How’s the alcohol treating you?”

“Wonderfully,” Raziel said brightly. He beamed at Conquest and pointed at his own feet. “The grass is fluffy! The Heavens should have grass.”

“Should they?” Conquest murmured. He moved away from Raziel, settling himself on the bench in the pergola. He sprawled over it, his arms across the back and knees spread wide.

Raziel continued to dance around on the grass. He felt as though the stars and the moon were singing to him. The sounds of the party inside were muffled and only he and Conquest were out here, in this garden paradise.

Strands of purple energy began to surround him, dancing along in the light breeze. Raziel giggled and twirled with them, moving his arms through the harmless waves.

They dropped away suddenly as everything went dark. The sounds of distant music and conversation abruptly stopped.

Something pulled at Raziel from beneath the grass. A dark dangerous energy, weighing him down. He tried to fight, but it was no use. He fell to his knees and hit the ground hard.

Raziel. Give it back, it doesn’t belong to you.

“Raziel!”

Black ooze, hissing and spitting heat and bubbling, erupted from the ground, snakelike creatures slithering inside it, all reaching for him. Whispering his name like a mantra, like a waking nightmare.

Raziel couldn’t move. He was stuck, unable to do anything but watch as the hot slime came closer and closer.

He was snatched into the air and flung up behind Conquest, over the side of Victory’s rump. Raziel didn’t care where she had come from. He laid his cheek against her soft body, clinging to her like a lifeline.

Conquest was guiding her, one hand on her reins, the other holding his glaive as she reared, lifting her forelegs from the ground.

“Show yourself!” Conquest yelled. “What are you?”

Raziel. Don’t run from me. You can’t hide. I always know where you are.

Raziel clenched his eyes shut, grasping tighter to Victory and curling more fully over her.

“Victory, go,” Conquest ordered.

Victory neighed and then took off at a sprint, across the expanse of the front lawn of the White House. The black followed them, rising into the air like a plague. Conquest shot bolts of energy at it as they ran.

Victory jumped as a layer of fog enveloped them, and when she landed they were in the front yard of Conquest’s estate.

Raziel refused to let go, even as Conquest slid from Victory’s back.

“Raziel, let go.”

He shook his head, tightening his hold on the mare below him.

“Raziel, you’re safe now. Let go.”

Strong, gentle hands pulled at him. Raziel relented and allowed Conquest to pull him from Victory. Conquest didn’t relinquish his hold, instead he placed Raziel half over his shoulder as he marched into the house.

They went up a set of stairs and then Raziel was deposited onto the cold tiling of the shower floor.

Conquest slowly undressed him. Raziel felt so empty that the panic he would have expected from being so exposed and naked in front of the Horseman was entirely absent.

“Did it get you?” Conquest asked quietly.

Raziel shook his head. He was mesmerized by the way Conquest was unbuttoning his own shirt, revealing the solid muscle beneath it. Smooth pale skin with a dusting of black hair. Whoever had built this Being had done a good job.

Raziel kept his eyes firmly on Conquest’s chest, even as the Horseman unzipped his pants and pushed them down. The trail of hair led down to where his genitals lay, but Raziel didn’t dare look.

Why was Conquest getting naked? Were they going to shower together?

Raziel’s mouth opened in a silent gasp as Conquest trailed his knuckles down Raziel’s arm. He stopped at Raziel’s elbow and curled his fingers around it.

He led Raziel into the shower, pressed a few buttons on the temperature panel and turned the taps. Water streamed down on them like a waterfall. When Raziel had first showered the other day it had been incredible, but he hadn’t had the time to truly appreciate it.

Raziel closed his eyes and leaned his head back a fraction, reveling in the way the water slid over him, surrounding him.

“Have you seen it before?”

“Not exactly,” Raziel said. “I dreamt of the - the voice. I’ve heard it before.”

Conquest picked up the soap from its holder, the oval shape looking impossibly small in his large hand, and nudged Raziel so that his back was facing him. He soaped Raziel’s back as he spoke and Raziel tried to concentrate on the words but the overwhelming feeling of the Horseman touching him was more than a little distracting.

He could feel tingling in his toes, all the way up his legs and into his groin. He knew, on a theoretical level, what was happening to his body. He also knew the Angels’ anatomy was strikingly similar to mortals, which made sense as God created them in their image. The biggest difference was that they didn’t have wings, didn’t have magic, didn’t have the same depth of power as the Angels.

But Raziel had never thought about what that similarity meant, in real terms.

Was this what stimulated it? Something that felt nice?

No wonder the Angels also partook.

“Why was it after you, Raziel?” Conquest was asking. “It said you stole something. What were you doing in the Heavens?”

“N-nothing,” Raziel stuttered. In the Heavens he was a forgotten Angel, the one that remained in the shadows, silent and broken. He had no purpose, no task. Not beyond the one he had already miserably failed, anyway.

Raziel’s stomach tightened as Conquest wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled them flush against each other. He could feel - he could feel everything. Conquest was big , and digging in just above the curve of his ass.

Was Conquest - was he expecting-?

Raziel tried to swallow, but it caught in his throat as dizziness swamped him.

“Be calm.”

A light touch that was like sunshine washed over Raziel, and the panicked thoughts and feelings settled into something that didn’t threaten to shatter him.

“Calm,” Conquest repeated. He picked up the bottle of shampoo with his free hand and poured a generous amount on Raziel’s head.

It was cold and so in contrast to the warm water running over him that it made Raziel shiver.

Conquest kneaded the shampoo into Raziel’s hair and Raziel melted against him. He would die happy if Conquest never stopped touching him like this. He had never been so cared for, treated so gently. Conquest was the most confounding Being he’d ever met; the blend of fear and comfort, of pain and intense pleasure, was confusing to say the least.

“I would suggest closing your eyes.”

Raziel obstinately kept them open. It wasn’t much in terms of defiance, but it was something.

Until a drop of shampoo went into the corner of his eye and began to burn. Oh, geez! He squeezed them shut, trying to make it stop. He rubbed the back of his hand against his eye, attempting to get it out. What kind of horrific torture was this?

Conquest stroked where his fingers sat against Raziel’s stomach. “Tilt your head.”

This time Raziel did as he was told, leaning his head back against Conquest’s chest. No pain could be worse than the one currently in his eye.

The water rushed over his face and a soft cloth was wiped against his eye. The shampoo was washed out of his hair with more massaging.

Raziel slowly, and tentatively, opened his eyes again. There was still a slight burn, but it was more of a lingering pain.

When Conquest picked up the conditioner bottle Raziel shut his eyes instantly, not wanting to experience that pain again.

“This won’t burn, but keep your eyes closed anyway.”

Raziel tried to stand as still as possible while the Horseman continued to wash his hair. He felt like he’d entered some bizarre alternate universe where the cruel were kind, and the kind were cruel.

Once Raziel was clean, Conquest turned the water off. He curled his hand around Raziel’s throat, his thumb pressed to the bottom of his chin.

Raziel’s heart thumped, unsteady, as Conquest leaned in and kissed his jaw. “Sleep, baby Angel.”

“Wha-” Raziel slipped into the dark.