Azazel stood again. I noticed Nathaniel had taken his place next to Azazel, and that the angel to Nathaniel’s left must be Zerachiel, Nathaniel’s father. He looked like he could be Nathaniel’s twin. Angels don’t seem to age at all after a certain point. I looked older than Lucifer and he had me beat by several thousand years.
“Samiel ap Ramuell, you have been brought before this tribunal to answer for your crimes. Your crimes will be read out to you and you will acknowledge that which you have done. Then sentencing will be passed upon you.”
“What about his defense?” I asked loudly.
Azazel turned a glare upon me as several of the Grigori murmured behind their hands. I was sure that Azazel’s stature among the other fallen was taking a hit every time I talked out of turn. I don’t reflect well on my father’s court, as Nathaniel has so often reminded me.
“This is not a human court of law,” Azazel said icily. “This is a place of judgment. The Grigori do not hear ‘defense.’”
“Forget that,” I said. “What did you bring me here for if not to defend Samiel?”
“You were not brought. You came of your own volition,” said one of the Grigori halfway down the bench.
“That’s Chezaquiel,” Beezle whispered. Apparently he’d finished his nap.
“I had no choice but to come. You sent the Hound of the Hunt to break down my walls and take Samiel from my home. If you give Samiel back now, you can have the remains of this loser,” I said, nudging Metatrion with the toe of my boot, “and I’ll just forget the insult that you gave me by sending soldiers into my home.”
“This creature,” another Grigori said, “is accused of setting free the nephilim Ramuell so that Ramuell could hunt and kill.”
“That’s Shamsiel,” whispered Beezle.
“How can you tell them apart?” I said out of the corner of my mouth. Shamsiel looked blond and young just like the rest. The only Grigori that stood out were Azazel, who was dark haired and dark eyed like me, and Focalor, trapped forever in his demon’s body for defying Lucifer. Lucifer had golden hair and black wings—one of the few angels who did.
“Many innocent lives were lost because of Samiel’s actions,” Shamsiel continued.
“Please,” I scoffed. “Like any of you give a flying faerie about innocent human lives. If it served your purpose, you’d wipe out every last person on the face of the Earth. I, on, the other hand, do care about the human lives that were taken. And I punished the creature responsible—Ramuell. Samiel shouldn’t be made to pay for the sins of his father.”
“He released the monster from the Forbidden Lands,” said Zerachiel.
“And those monsters wouldn’t even exist if the Grigori had kept it in their pants the first time they saw human women,” I said angrily. I have a terrible temper, and I was riding on the edge of it.
“Real smooth,” J.B. whispered.
“It is not for you to question the actions of the Grigori,” Azazel shouted.
“Why not?” I shot back. “Somebody ought to. It seems to me that the lot of you have had your own way for far too long. You want to talk about wrong? It’s wrong of you to condemn an innocent child for the actions of his parents.”
This was definitely stretching the truth a little bit, but I continued on.
“Ariell made Samiel release his father from prison. She’s the one who set Ramuell on the world. She used Samiel as one uses a key to open a lock.”
“Since you speak of the boy’s mother, it should be noted that Samiel should not have been allowed to live a moment past birth. We have already made an exception for a nephilim’s child,” Focalor said silkily.
I went cold. They would not drag Gabriel into this.
I narrowed my eyes at Focalor and felt the familiar buildup of magical energy inside me, the power that seemed to rise with my emotions. Everyone in the room stiffened except Lucifer, who smiled. They could feel the magic coming off me in waves.
“This is not about Gabriel,” I said steadily. “And you should remember the last time we met, Focalor. I would keep my mouth shut if I were you.”
I was certain that if Focalor were not already bright scarlet, we would see him blushing. He did not like the reminder that the last time he’d competed against me he’d lost—in front of Amarantha’s twittering court.
“In addition to his other crimes, Samiel harmed you, the daughter of Azazel and the heir to his court. For that alone he must pay a price,” Zerachiel said.
Everyone in the room stared at the place on my left hand where two fingers were missing. I resisted the urge to stick my hand in my pocket and hide the evidence.
“Samiel and I have an understanding about that and I believe his debt to me has been paid. If I don’t require a blood price from him, then neither should you.”
“The laws of the kingdom state—” another Grigori began.
“Stuff your laws!” I shouted, my temper breaking. “This whole thing is a farce. I don’t know why you brought Samiel here but it has nothing to do with the laws of the kingdom.”
“He must pay for his crimes,” Azazel said.
“He has committed no crime,” I responded.
“We believe otherwise.”
“And you’ve already decided that he’ll pay whether he’s guilty or not. I think that you just want to get rid of Samiel because he is a reminder of your own failures, your own weaknesses.”