Chapter One

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The Avatar of Wrath

A shudder ran through the demon's body. Starting at the base of his neck and traveling lighting-quick to the very tips of his fingers. He closed his blue-green eyes, lashes casting halfmoon shadows against his flushed cheeks. He savoured the sparks that ran along his spine, like nails tickling the skin. "Someone is angry." He said to himself, setting the heavy book he had been reading aside.

"Oh, so very angry."

The Avatar of Wrath stood and straightened his R.A.D. uniform after the shivers passed. He tugged at the bow tie at his neck. Was it always so tight? No, he was just feeling the after affects of the experience. Satan sighed and collect his heavy book, holding it securely to his chest. He wasn't able to focus in his room any longer, the nearness of the shelves of books and piles of parchments were pressing tightly against him. The rain had stopped some hours ago, and a walk was exactly what the Avatar of Wrath needed to cool his nerves.

The blond-haired demon left his bedroom for the cool breeze of the gardens outside the House of Lamentation. The sparks of hot rage that had run down his spine had faded, but he was restless. When was the last time he could feel someone else's anger so acutely? Decades? Centuries? He carried his heavy book tucked under his arm. His clever greenish eyes at once searching for a place to sit and read and hazy in deep thought. But who's anger was it?

At last he found himself settling down on the soft, dark green grass in front a stone bench. He leaned his back against the legs of the bench and settled the book into his lap. He shook his head, shaking the remnants of the angry sensations out of his head. He wouldn't be able to solve the mystery without more clues, and though he had a curious and intellectual mind, he would rather read than search without clues. He opened the heavy volume and began to scan the pages. The evening winds sang through the trees, the leaves danced and spun on their branches. Finally, it's time to get some reading done. With the melody of breezes and leaves, he read.

Satan, the Avatar of Wrath was deeply at peace as he read. Each word flickering into a vivid image in his mind's eye, even more vibrant and real than the cool stone bench at his back or the slight wind that tousled his golden hair. He didn't mind the deep grey-blue haze that hung in the air, his eyes were sharp; he could see each hand-written word on the vellum of the book clearly. He read eagerly, devouring each word like Beelzebub on a burger. Quickly, in large gulps, wanting more, more, more.

Satan lifted the book closer to his face, absorbed in the words, contented to be drawn into the tale. A crash, a sharp pain in his leg, a loud grunt, the sound of something slamming into the ground. "Oi oi!" Shouted the demon. He yanked his knees to his chest reflexively, the book pages crushed against his coat. He scowled down at the source of the disturbance. The exchange student, crumpled up into a ball, was clutching at her ankle. Her face was scrunched up in pain. "What the hell are you doing?!" He asked loudly, clapping his book together between his hands.

He shuddered.

There it was again. That electric flicker travelling from his core to the ends of his limbs, dancing along his skin, making the fine hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He inhaled sharply, trying to keep his face placid, even while his heart constricted in response to his shiver. Something thrilling was coiling and uncoiling in rapid succession in his stomach. It was stronger now than when he had been in his bedroom.

"What the hell are you doing, Satan? Who just sits on the ground, in the dark?" She pushed herself up to a seated position, testing her ankle against the ground, groaning between her shouts. "Friggin' demons, honestly!"

But Satan was not listening. His body was numb from the feeling that had rippled through him, moving in waves. His vision was foggy, and his heart drummed just a little quickly, the beat a little too loud in his ears. He breathed deeply, and glared down his nose at the human woman. She glared up at him in return. Satan exhaled and leaned back against the bench, try to regain control. You?

The Exchange Student

"What an absolutely crap day." I said, leaning into my ankle. I gritted my teeth, the pain in my ankle wasn't too bad. But my irritation? That was much worse. Ugh. Seriously. I looked up at the Avatar of Wrath. He peered back at me, not angry, but perhaps irked. I hadn't seen Satan express his particular trait too frequently, not in the same way I saw Beelzebub scoff down food – dishes and all. Or Belphegor, sleeping everywhere. Or like Asmodeous, flirting with everyone with a heartbeat. And a few without a heartbeat... I thought of the painting of his long-since-cursed lover, trapped in Diavolo's castle. Satan was quite a bit more refined, but not quite hard in the way icy way of Lucifer. He was changeable, like a hot spring, bubbling and pleasant in one moment and a scalding geyser in the next.

I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of petrichor and grass. I swallowed down the lump of annoyance that settled in my throat, willing it to break apart and disappear. I felt hot and damp from the angry emotions I had earlier in the day. I was unsettled and irritated. I felt like an animal cornered for too long and finally ready to bite and scratch. And I hated every moment of it.

But it wasn't Satan's fault that I felt terrible. A demon? Yes, but not one of the demons that had been tormenting me all day. Sure, I had tripped over him, because he's fool, sitting on the ground in the dark, but he didn't exactly do anything wrong. He could easily be snapping at me that way I was lashing out at him. I gritted my teeth and acknowledged the demon, meeting his eyes. "Sorry, I tripped over you. I didn't see you sitting here." I looked away from him, not willing to hold his gaze any longer. There, I apologized, even if it was insincere. I went through the motions that society demanded, in both the human world and the Devildom.

"Hmm... yes, well. In the Devildom it is dark morning, noon and night," said the demon. Satan flashed me a brilliant smile. He stood up smoothly, dusted off his R.A.D. uniform slacks and offered me his hand. "Come, sit on the bench with me." I frowned to myself, I didn't really want to be around demons right now; my goal was the silence of my bedroom. Even Satan, with his polite smiles and irreproachable manners was still a demon. Satan raised his eyebrows at me, and gestured his hand again. I accepted it, and let the demon haul me up onto my tender foot.

I pressed my foot into the ground, rolling my ankle around carefully. The ache was not as bad as I thought it would be. But it was another thing out of place in my day, like that sock that went into the wash as a pair and came out alone. It was not horrible, but it was enough to make my shoulders sag. I mumbled a 'thanks' under my breath, and released Satan's manicured hand.

"If you weren't home soon, I was going to go out looking for you. It is pretty late. My brothers were talking about you not being home in a chat." He said to me, his voice filled with reserved concern. He settled onto the stone bench, picked up his large book from the grass and set it on the bench beside him. "What brings you to the garden at this late hour?" He smiled sweetly. Too sweet, like rock candy. Just waiting for me to chip a tooth. I sat on the edge of the bench, not wanting to stay for very long and make pleasant conversation.

"I'm just walking home." I said, briskly.

"Through the garden?"

"Well, that's where we are." I held my hands up and turned at my waist, indicating our obvious location. I knew I should calm down, but my foul mood was over taking the voice of reason in my mind. I couldn't keep the edge out of my voice. I kicked at the blades of grass around the bench, flattening them beneath the toe of my boot. I didn't want to keep the edge out of my voice.

"That's a pretty round-a-bout route, isn't it?" Satan said, his smile never leaving his lips. His smile made me grind my molars together. How could he be so damn cheerful? Who works this hard to be pleasant all the time? The edge in my voice sharpened further.

"Why do you want to know?" I said snapping, at the demon, all my irritation at the day focused on Satan. "Trying to beat out Lucifer for the most controlling demon in the house?"

Satan stood up slowly, his blue-green eyes lit with an ominous fire. He leaned forward until his face was very close to my own, I could feel his breath against my cheeks. His voice spilled from his lips like a stream of water.

"You have a lot of nerve, human."

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