She trembled uncontrollably as he took a seat. “Hades told me what happened,” he said, getting right to it. “I know that letting the unauthorized souls into the Inner Sanctum was an accident. What I don’t know is why you didn’t tell me when it first happened. We could have prevented all of this.”
“I know,” she whispered. She tucked her hands between her knees as if that would stop them from shaking. It didn’t. “I should have. But I was afraid. I thought I could fix it on my own, but then I got trapped and couldn’t get back...it was all a big mistake.”
One dark eyebrow shot up. “A mistake? It was a colossal fuckup that could have caused destruction on a global scale. And after the recent near-Apocalypse, having millions of demonic spirits loose in the human world would have damned near started another one.”
Her eyes burned, and shame in the form of tears ran down her cheeks. “Are you going to kill me?” Or worse, give her a place of honor in his Hall of Souls, where she’d scream forever inside a frozen body. She wasn’t going to ask about that, though. No sense in giving him any ideas.
Azagoth gaped. “Kill you? Why would you think I’d kill you?”
Was he kidding? “You’re sort of known for not giving second chances. And for disintegrating people who piss you off.”
He appeared to consider that. Finally, he nodded. “True. I’ve never denied that I’m a monster.” He jammed a hand through his ebony hair and sat back in the chair, his emerald eyes unreadable as he took her in. “You’re a terrible housekeeper, Cat. You’re always breaking and misplacing things, and I doubt you even know what a vacuum cleaner is––”
“I’ll do better,” she swore. “I’ll try harder and work longer hours. Please don’t––”
“Let me finish,” he broke in. “Like I said, you’re a terrible housekeeper. But you’re an excellent cook. Zhubaal and Lilliana have watched you with the Unfallen, and they both agree that you’re also a great teacher. You’re eager and enthusiastic, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone try as hard as you do to get things right. It’s that quality that led you to fix the mistake you made by letting the human into the Inner Sanctum. I admire your determination, and I like having you around. So no, I won’t kill you. Besides,” he muttered, “Lilliana would mount my head on a pike if I did that.”
Cat sat, stunned. He admired her? Liked having her around? Even more unbelievable, the Grim Reaper was afraid of Lilliana. “I––I don’t understand. What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing. I think you’ve punished yourself far more than I ever could.” He smiled, barely, but for him, that was huge. “I can hire someone else to clean if you’d rather do other work in Sheoul-gra. Just let Lilliana know, and she’ll arrange it.”
Relief flooded her in such a powerful wave that she nearly fell out of her chair. She could barely function as Azagoth came to his feet in a smooth surge. “I’m glad you’re back, Cataclysm. Lilliana was inconsolable.”
Inconsolable? Warmth joined the flood of relief. Lilliana truly cared about her. Oh, Cat had had friends in Heaven, but no one had worried about her. Okay, sure, they didn’t worry because Heaven was a pretty safe place, but even when she’d gone to work with Gethel, no one had expressed concern. When she’d been found guilty of colluding with a traitor in order to start the Apocalypse, her friends and family had been sad, angry, and embarrassed, but to say that they’d been distraught or inconsolable would be a huge overstatement.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But before you go, can I ask you something?”
He gave a clipped nod. “Ask.”
She cleared her throat, more to buy a little time than to get the sappy emotion out of her voice. “I want something from you.” Azagoth cocked a dark eyebrow, and she revised her statement. “I mean, I would like something from you.”
“And what’s that?”
“Let Hades have some furniture.”
Clearly, Azagoth hadn’t expected that because the other eyebrow joined the first. “Furniture?”
“He’s been sleeping on a hard-ass slab of stone and using scraps of who knows what for other furniture. He made his own playing cards from bits of wood.”
“So?”
She shoved to her feet, ready to go toe-to-toe with him over this. Hades deserved as much. “Don’t you think he’s been punished enough?”
“You know what he did, yes? You know he slaughtered my son?”
“I’m aware,” she said gently...but firmly. “I know that must be painful for you. But I’m also aware that he’s been paying for that for thousands of years.”
Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Azagoth studied her. His green eyes burned right through her, and she wondered what he was searching for. “He wouldn’t ask for these things. So why are you?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Is that all?” he asked, and her stomach dropped to her feet. He knew.
“I care for him,” she admitted. “And he deserves better––”
“Than how I’m treating him?”