"Hola, señoritas! Come to Pápa," Rafael who, pretended to be drunk, was lounging on the couch in the VIP section of the club, holding a glass of champagne but not drinking from it. He eyed the group of twenty-one-year-olds. The girls' excited giggles were barely audible over the music. "You're so sweet, Rafa!" Tori, the pink-haired girl, said, giggling as her friends pushed her closer, causing her to fall onto the space next to him.
"So, tell me, Tori, what do you want for a birthday present?" Rafael asked, drawing out the words.
Tori pondered for a moment before responding, "I want a Lamborghini!" Her friends discreetly gave her a thumbs up.
Rafael smiled, reached into his pocket, and tossed the keys to the Lamborghini he had driven to the club to Tori. She squealed with delight, showing the keys to her friends, who joined in the excitement.
Just then, Rafael's phone rang, interrupting the chatter. He checked the screen and saw it was his sister. "Mierda, I've got to answer this, Death's calling," Rafael rolled out smoothly, causing the girls to giggle hysterically. They were more than drunk.
Rafael's words slurred slightly, as he tried to show he was more than just drunk, which in actuality he wasn't. "Hey, Caz, what's up?" he said, answering the phone.
"Holy shit, sis, I'll be there soon," he replied, ending the call. He raised himself from the couch, downed the remaining champagne, and addressed the girls, "It was great meeting you all, but the in-laws just called, and the wife's in the OR." The girls groaned in disappointment.
Once free from his admirers, Rafael spread his wings and took flight, reaching his destination in less than a second. He descended gracefully, making it seem like he had walked instead of flown. Without admiring the surroundings, he rushed into the cottage, where the strong smell of phosphorus and sulfur hit him like a punch. Rafael knew that a powerful demon, likely an archdemon, was present.
Rafael's feet moved swiftly as he entered the scene, his eyes locking onto a familiar woman lying on the ground. But she wasn't his priority at the moment. He drew Azrael's sword, a recent gift from his sister, and took a deep breath to pinpoint the demon's location. As he sensed Moloch's presence, he halted, observing the unfolding scene with a mix of amusement and intrigue.
The demon towered over a tiny, eight-year-old girl, who bravely shouted, "Don't come near me, mister, or..." Rafael stifled a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. The demon, however, roared with laughter, asking, "Or what, Pipsqueak?"
Rafael's expression darkened as he stepped forward, his eyes flashing electric blue with excitement. "Or I'll blow your motherfucking brains off," he threatened, his smirk growing wider as the demon trembled with fear.
"Hello, Moloch. Did you miss me?" Rafael taunted, his voice dripping with confidence as the demon turned to face him.
Moloch's eyes widened in dread as he faced the archangel. "Damn it, just my luck," he thought, knowing he was in trouble. Archangels were notorious for their ability to bind demons, and even Lucifer couldn't undo their seals.
"Listen, angel, I'm here on official business," Moloch said, trying to sound confident despite his inner panic. "Just butt out and let me do my job." He took a cautious step back, his mind racing with the consequences of failure. Being sent back to the depths was a terrifying prospect, but disappointing Lucifer was even worse.
The archangel smiled, his eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement. "Well, demon, it seems our interests align. You wouldn't want me to gut you, would you, Moloch?" He materialized a long sword in his left hand, its presence making Moloch's heart race with fear.
Moloch's eyes widened in terror as he recognized the sword. Azrael's sword, forged by Death herself, was a weapon of legend, and only those deemed worthy by Death could wield it. Moloch trembled, knowing his fate was sealed. He attempted to teleport, grasping for Emily, but Rafael was too quick. The angel shielded both mother and daughter with a protective barrier that repelled demons like Moloch.
Realizing the battle was lost, Moloch opened a portal and escaped, vanishing from sight. Rafael watched him flee, then turned to Emily and her mother, his expression solemn. "Come with me," he signed, knowing they had witnessed the events unfold. "You aren't safe here."
Who are you, exactly? Maurie asked eyeing Rafael up.
"I'm the one who's going to get you out of this mess," Rafael added with a wink. "Castiel's tied up with some other business, but she sent me to fetch you. You're quite the popular human, you know." He grinned, trying to put Emily at ease. "Now, shall we get moving? We don't have much time before Moloch decides to come back with reinforcements."
—_—
Caz ended the call, confident that Rafael, despite his antics, would never joke about a demon attack on a human, especially when Immanuel himself had given the order. Castiel trusted Rafael enough to know he wouldn't fail, though she'd never admit it to his face.
President Harrington's voice broke into her thoughts, "So, Emily is your daughter?" The woman's gaze was piercing, and Caz could tell she was well aware of the one-sided conversation she'd just had.
Castiel's response was curt: "I'm her guardian." Her eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed on the president, daring her to pry further. The air was thick with tension, as if challenging anyone to question her role in Emily's life.
The woman nodded, her gaze distant, lost in thought. Castiel paused, observing the president's fleeting sadness. "I simply don't have a fondness for children, ma'am, if you were wondering," Castiel said, her voice neutral, "but I don't hate them either." The statement broke the silence, drawing Carolyn's attention back to the present.
As they continued their walk out of the garden, the silence between them was palpable. Carolyn's thoughts drifted to starting a family once her tenure ended, while Castiel's mind wandered to the pungent smell of sulfur, helium, and phosphorus, a stark reminder of the demonic forces she had just battled. The contrast between their thoughts was striking, a testament to the vastly different worlds they inhabited.
As they walked, Castiel's senses tingled, detecting a dark energy gathering, invisible to human eyes. A telltale sign that demons were lurking, their presence thickening like a shadowy cloud. The president's question broke into her focus. "We are friends, aren't we, Castiel?"
Castiel's response was distracted, her attention split between the conversation and the escalating supernatural tension. "Umm, yeah..."
But before she could elaborate, a distorted voice cut in, making Carolyn jump. "It means the angel of death." The president's eyes widened in alarm, her gaze darting between Castiel and the newcomer.
A tall, lean figure emerged from the shadows, his bald head gleaming in the fading light. "Fancy meeting you here, oh great angel of death," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.
Castiel's eyes narrowed, her expression darkening. "Asmodeus." The name was a curse, her voice laced with venom.
Carolyn's eyes darted between the two, her face pale. "Paul!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling, as she took a step back, away from Castiel.