Page 49 of The Human Element (The Human Element Collection #1)
Daemon
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOU FUCKING MIND, RAPH?!”
Daemon huffed in frustration, his hands curled into tight fists; the whites of his knuckles stood out prominently.
He was pacing in circles around Raphael who stood impatiently, seeming unaware of the ridiculousness of forcing Daemon to leave in the middle of a bloody fight.
Lorelei was there completely alone, and no matter how much Daemon berated Raph for his stupidity, Raphael merely responded with his usual superior complex and bullshit.
“It was strictly Michael’s orders, Daemon. I’m sorry. I am sure they will be fine for a few minutes.”
A few minutes? A few minutes could mean life or death in the middle of a pack of blood-thirsty fucking demons, arsehole.
But Daemon didn’t say this, there was no point.
He had no idea how to get back to Stonehenge with Raph’s power blocking his own.
“Procedure” is what he claimed it to be.
If Daemon wanted any chance to get back to Lorelei quickly, he needed to calm down and play his cards right.
Besides, no matter how obnoxious Raph could be, in all honesty he was only the messenger.
It was Michael who would get the brunt of his words, or his fist, without a doubt.
Even with anger growing, there was anxiety as well.
The last time Daemon saw Michael, was the day he was condemned as a Fallen—by his own best friend nonetheless.
He was following orders, just as Daemon used to.
No matter the consequences, that was an angel’s duty.
And Michael, being the leader of the ArchAngels, was apparently closest in lineage to God themself.
So it was said. It had always been this way, with Michael in charge and dictating orders from Up High.
Daemon was always Michael’s least favorite angel to deal with, at least that's how it seemed. Michael was always chiding him for asking too many questions, which Daemon would rebuttal with more. Like, “Why do we never see God?” or “Are you sure there isn’t anybody else higher up in the chain of command than you?” or “Why are you such a wanker, Michael? Don’t you ever relax? ”
All of which were met with a heavy-handed, mostly indecipherable riddle of responses that typically made Daemon up and leave before Michael even finished his convoluted retort.
It was a contentious relationship, but it wasn’t until Daemon defied a direct order from Michael to eliminate young Lorelei all those years ago, when Daemon really saw how the ArchAngel could be.
Daemon was not looking forward to coming face to face with him again.
Raphael assured him it was protocol and formality that forced Daemon away at such an untimely moment.
Daemon mumbled under his breath as if it was really decorum Michael was so concerned about or if it was having another upper hand.
Michael always had to have the upper hand.
This is why Daemon never trusted him. Still, Daemon could never decipher if it was distrust of Michael or the anger and shame over what occurred all those years ago.
To distract himself from the worry of whether Lorelei would be okay, he figured he’d talk to his long-lost ‘bestie’ in the meantime.
Gauge what he knew about the upcoming war.
Whether it was happening soon, if there was a date, what he knew. Any information might help.
Help what? You’re the reason you’re here with this fucker instead of protecting Lorelei, remember? You didn’t have faith you could come out of this alive. You wanted a bargaining chip—now you got one.
Daemon’s guilt tugged at his mind violently, but he endeavored to wrestle it back for the time being. He desperately needed to keep his wits about him here.
“How are things, Raph? Any news about your ‘precious’ war?” He hoped his mocking tone hit its mark.
Raphael was examining his perfectly manicured nails, picking out dirt from beneath them—or perhaps it was blood—and shrugged his shoulders absent-mindedly.
“Soon. Word is there will be confirmation of the exact date in the coming days. That’s all the information you are allowed to know anyways. But why do you care? You are here to get an out for you and your little world-saving posse. Isn’t that right?”
Daemon wanted to go over there, take that absurdly clean hand and crush it with his own. Change that look on his face from carelessness to excruciating pain, but decided it wouldn’t be in his best interest at the moment; even if it might be satisfying.
“Hmm…so you don’t know. That’s just a long-winded “I have no fucking clue but I am going to pretend like I am above you” response. Typical of you Raph. Typical of all of you.”
Raphael at last turned to Daemon who stomped around the arena he had been brought to, it was the same blasted arena he lost his status: the colosseum in Rome.
Figures .
Angels always liked to put on a show or meet in places of significance; it seemed Michael was driving the dagger in his wound deeper than even Daemon thought he was capable.
Never thought Michael to be one to make a joke.
If this was Michael’s way to get to Daemon or have a show of power: it was unfortunately working.
Daemon hadn’t felt this small or uncomfortable in a long time; but immediately the memories of that dreaded day came in like a firebomb—blowing his once neatly placed wall to keep those bad memories at bay, wide open.
Before the day he was brought before the Council of ArchAngels for his Fallen ceremony, the colosseum was filled with a lot of happy memories.
Although often times absolutely barbaric of the humans to partake in some of the events put on there; especially the hunting of the animals or public executions.
A lot were exciting to watch and at times; for shits and giggles; be a part of.
There was one particular time Daemon and Raphael competed in one of the gladiator competitions and Raph swears he “let” Daemon beat him; but Daemon was always a better fighter than Raph.
They laughed about it for weeks afterwards.
A stinging sensation now replaced the guilt.
The memories of this place were overwhelming, good and bad.
Nice play, Michael…
“You can be angry all you want from the past, Dae. But at the end of the day, you made your choice. Now you have to face the punishment. Your snide comments do nothing for you.”
Chuckling, Daemon finally leaned against one of the many pillars and kicked one foot over the other, arms crossed.
“Ah, like I haven’t already endured enough punishment all these years?
Right’o, mate. Excuse my remark. I am sure you are a well-valued member of this cog in the grand scheme of the Universe after all these years.
Has Michael given you so many duties now you have forgotten how it is on Earth or how good humans can be?
He’s kept you in Heaven like a fucking prisoner after what you did to me, Raph.
Don’t deny it. You haven’t stepped back on Earth until the day you showed up in Inverness.
At least back when we toured Earth together, you knew how to live a little.
And you knew when something was wrong, even if it meant defying orders to protect someone who meant anything to you. ”
Daemon paused after this last remark, and seeing by the concerned look on Raphael’s face at the suggestion of him being the one to have broken rules, Daemon knew he got under his skin.
ArchAngels were not supposed to be together intimately after what happened with Lucifer before.
Lucifer fell in love with somebody, and when he became all too obsessive, was the first sign of when he began to defy his orders.
But Raphael broke the rules once getting together with ArchAngel Ariel.
Granted, the two were perfect for each other, and Raphael was always way better at shimmying his way with words to get on Michael’s good side to make an exception, claiming the bond between ArchAngels was “too sacred” to deny them—it worked out in his favor.
Daemon wasn’t sure Michael ever truly forgave Raph for upstaging him in front of the other angels though.
Yet, nothing bad came from the incident.
Either way, Daemon wanted to make sure Raphael remembered: he wasn’t the perfect angel he thought he was.
Now, after what happened in the Akasha, Daemon knew it was Ariel who was the mystery angel with Lucifer before his fall.
Raphael may not be the most emotional of angels, but he loved Ariel deeply, and to know she kept such a secret would kill him.
Not to mention to know who in fact she had Lorelei with.
The situation was becoming messier by the minute, and Raphael would be hurt.
I wonder if I should tell him what we saw?
Daemon felt uneasy not letting Raphael know, but with everything going on, Raphael wasn't much of a friend currently.
And perhaps it could be a card played later when Daemon needed it more.
For now, it was the only card he held; even if it meant keeping this secret about what Ariel did and who Lorelei truly is.
Daemon was pissed and there would be no way he'd be the first to tell him—not when Daemon had too much pent up anger towards Raphael—not when the sting of his actions left scars he never apologized for.
With clenched fists, Daemon brought an arm down, slamming it against the pillar he leaned on.
His words were barreling out before he could calm himself.