Fallen Angel

Chapter 37.2

The Angel of Death looked at the pitiful mess on the floor. He had to keep himself from gagging. This sentimentality was nauseating. When the slaves tried to take Lucrezia's body away, Borgia had hollered in rage, making them back away in terror. The man had been clutching his sister for over an hour now, not allowing anyone to touch her. It was pathetic.
Part of Samael wished the Bastard had drunk from the poison as well, so he wouldn't have to deal with a brokenhearted demon. But Borgia's death would have put a kink in the plan. He still had to play his part. And with the stupid witch losing the baby, that part just got bigger. Samael only had to push Borgia in the right direction, which wouldn't be difficult to arrange.
Borgia finally noticed the Angel of Death was in the room. Samael put on the mask he had perfected over the centuries to hide his disgust toward him.

"Bring her back," pleaded Borgia. "Bring her back to me, please!"

"I can't. I don't have that kind of power."

"Liar! You're the Angel of Death! If you can't do this, then what the fuck good are you?"

Samael pressed his lips together. He had to remind himself that this man was 'hurting'. Diplomacy was in order. He turned his back on Borgia and sighed.

"It is unfortunate we lost the baby. That little girl would have solved everything."

"What baby?"

Samael glanced over his shoulder to meet Borgia's confused look. "Joan and Gabriël's child. You know, the one conceived in the Vale. Her powers would have been... Well, it doesn't matter anymore."

Samael paused. He could hear the wheels in Borgia's mind slowly turning. That must hurt.

"If you had the girl's powers... could you bring her back?" asked Borgia. "Could you bring Lucrezia back then?"

"With such a being at our disposal, who knows what we can do with those powers?"

Borgia looked down at his sister's face and caressed her cheek with his thumb, smearing blood over her ashen skin. He carefully gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, placing her lovingly onto the sheets. He kissed the sleeping beauty's lips, whispering something inaudibly. 

"Where is the child now?" he asked then, his voice lacking all emotion.

"We don't know. Lucifer discovered I had another plan in motion. He attacked us at Pergamum and took the baby. The Fallen Angel was so devastated that she died from shock."

"Joan of Arc is dead?" Borgia's head jerked back toward Samael.

"She is."

The corners of Borgia's mouth curled up in a grin. "I'll happily ensure Gabriël joins his slut, then."

"Gabriël isn't our most immediate problem," said Samael. "Lucifer is. We're searching for him, but he covered his tracks well. Even the Hellhounds have trouble locating him. I tried using the Alpha, but the bitch won't yield to my command. And I'm reluctant to kill her. She was an angel before she became a beast; she may yet prove useful to me."

"What about the others who gained Lucifer's trust?" inquired Borgia. "Those carrying the amulet? Surely you or Bathory can find him through that? She has one herself, as I recall."

"Believe me, we've tried. The amulets are useless to us. The power within obeys Lucifer and Lucifer alone. So do his followers, either out of fear or some misplaced loyalty. We are certain that one knows where he is, but no one will..."

Samael fell silent, making sure Borgia saw him look intently at the crystal goblet he had purposefully walked over to. He bent down to pick it up, pretending to examine it.