I padded out into the living room and over to the glass doors. Azza was at the rail, looking out over the city. I opened the door, and he spun around.

"You two fight?" I asked as I stepped out and paused.

"Sort of," he said, scowling.

"Where'd he go?" I didn't know why I asked, especially when I, supposedly, didn't care.

Azza turned back to view. "He couldn't stay. Hell waits for no angel."

"Ah." I walked to the rail and did the same. "Why are you here?"

"He doesn't want you left alone."

I scoffed. "I'm okay. You can leave if you want."

Azza laughed, low and dark. "And go against him? Where you're concerned? No, thank you. I'll be here until relieved."

"Relieved?"

"Yes. One of us will be with or near you always when he can't be. Especially since you've all but banished him."

"Could I banish him? Like completely?"

He glanced at me. "If he's let you have that kind of power over him, yeah."

I sighed. I didn't know what to think. "You want something to drink?"

"Maybe. What are you offering?"

"Well, I've got water, milk, hot tea, or I can make you a pot of coffee... or I have hell-wine, an array of bourbons, or something along those lines."

"You—You have hell-wine?"

"Yes. Do you want some?"

"No. I'm just shocked. He hasn't released any of the hell-wine in centuries."

"Right. He said something about not letting it get out." I turned to him, "So, what can I get you before I go and take my bath?"

"Tequila, if you've got it."

"I do." I went back inside, ran myself a glass of water, grabbed a shot glass and the Patrón Reposado. I quietly set the bottle and glass on the table behind him as he continued to view the city. I turned away, heading to the bathroom and the half a tub of water we'd left.

I turned the water all the way hot and ran the rest of the tub full. I stripped and sank into it, enjoying the sensation after such a harrowing day. It seemed like so long ago I'd watched the Judge eat breakfast. I expected to get sleepy, but I didn't. Instead, I came more and more awake. I could tell it would be a long night, especially since it was so early, barely dark.

I dried off and realized I was hungry. Back in the kitchen, I found ingredients for a simple stir-fry and fixed them. I heaped two plates full and took one to the terrace.

Azza was in the lounge chair, knocking back a shot of tequila. "You hungry?" I asked and set the plate and silverware on the patio table with the umbrella.

"Yeah. Thanks. Are you going to eat?" he asked, moving to the table. He looked tired.

"Yes. Then I have some work to do," I explained, watching him lower his bulk into one of my patio chairs.

"Okay. Do you—do you want to eat out here with me?" he glanced at me. If I didn't know better, I would almost say he didn't want to look me in the eye.

"Can I? I don't have a lot of people who know anything about my life."

He nodded. "I suspect you don't. Yes, please eat with me."

I fetched my plate and glass of hell-wine and returned to the terrace. Azza waited for me to get settled and start eating before he did. It seemed odd but somehow fitting.

We ate in the quiet of the night, neither of us knowing what to say. There were many questions I wanted to ask, but I didn't know where to begin. And, I didn't know what would and wouldn't be offensive or rude to ask. Most of all, I wanted to know how he Fell.

He finished, wiped his mouth, and sat back. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"So, you probably want to know how I Fell," he said, looking at his hands in his lap.

"The question had crossed my mind, yes, but I sense it is personal, and I don't want to offend."

He snorted. "You're an odd sort. Not many care about offending someone from Hell."

"Well, I do," I asserted.

He looked at me then. I tried to ignore the reaction of my body to his stare. Suddenly, he blinked, stood, and fetched the Patrón. He sat again and sighed.

"It was because I objected, and still object, to God giving Enoch such a high rank when He made him into the Angel Metatron. I served under him for a time but became convinced he was not worthy of his rank. I protested. He set me as a Watcher for a lengthy amount of time because I had the audacity to find His female creation to be lovely and His male creation to be corrupt and worthy of judgment. I meted out judgment as they deserved, and I loved women as they would have me, but, of course, God spun a different story, and thus I Fell, along with Lucifer and our brothers." He knocked back a shot before setting the glass down carefully.

"I am sorry for your experience. I understand Lucifer desired to separate from God, but it doesn't sound like you did, at least not in the beginning."

He stared at me. "You're sorry?"

"Well, it seems to have been traumatic. What else am I supposed to say?" I asked.

He blinked, then laughed, deep from his belly, his great shoulders shaking. "Oh, sweet baby Jesus, no wonder he loves you."

"He does?"

"He does."

"He's got a Hell of a way to show it, pun intended."

"Why, what did he do?"

I sighed, "It doesn't matter. The result is I'm hurt, and I'm not sure I can recover, or at least not quickly."

"I'm sorry he's hurt you," Azza said, his voice husky.

His words made me feel both flattered and uncomfortable. I rose, "Perhaps I should go and do some of my work."

He cleared his throat and stood, as a gentleman might stand when a lady leaves the room.

"Thank you for the food. Can I help with the dishes?" he asked.

"That would be nice, thank you."

We collected them in silence, and I carried the stack to the kitchen when he opened the door for me. I didn't realize he followed me until I turned from the sink and ran into him.

His hazel eyes locked onto mine, and he reached to run the back of one of his immense hands along my cheek.

"I am sorry he hurt you," he whispered, repeating himself.

I couldn't help but shudder. His touch was electric. "Thank you. But I have to ask. Is this a test of some sort?"

His hand dropped, but he didn't move back. "What do you mean?"

"Did he send you to tempt me?"

"Are you tempted?"

His voice was hypnotic, and it compelled me to answer truthfully. "Yes," I breathed. I closed my eyes, blocking out the sight of him. "But you know I am, don't you?"

"Yes."

We stood in the kitchen, my eyes shut to better focus, and he radiated a power I'd never experienced before. I gasped when his hand touched my face again. It was all I could do to not lean into his touch. I couldn't seem to say no, but I could keep myself from saying yes.

"Would it matter if he did send me to temp you?"

"Yes, of course, it would."

"Why?"

"Because if he did, then he's manipulating all of this, whatever this is, and it isn't real. I would need to behave accordingly."

"And if he didn't."

"Then you're a bastard, and I'm a whore to be tempted by each other the way we are when we both damn well know it'd crush him."

He chuckled. "I think you might be surprised at what would and wouldn't crush him."

I opened my eyes and gazed into his and found myself caught, unable to look away. My heart pounded, but I wanted to know. "What do you mean?"

"Sex, typically, means little to him. For him, it's much more about who feels like home."

"I don't understand." I trembled under his touch. His hand rested on the side of my neck and his thumb traced along my cheek.

"That feeling you get when you come home after a long trip, and you've been homesick? We feel that when we love someone. You might go on vacation, but coming home is special, and there's nothing like it. Love is like home."

I scowled. "And I supposed sex is like vacation?'

He smiled, "Yes. This is how we have operated for millennia. Only, there hasn't been any 'home' for him. Until now."

I flushed and scowled deeper. "I'm pretty sure what I saw was not vacation."

"Ah. You caught him having sex," he said, smiling gently.

"He says it's not what I think it was."

He nodded. "Likely it wasn't."

I sighed. "I know. It's part of his job. I understand intellectually, but to see it..." My heart hurt, and a tear slip down my cheek.

Azza wiped it away, his touch soft. "I am sorry you saw it. But you are right. It was part of his job."

"Well, I hope he made his deal, I suppose."

Azza went still. "Wait. You think he did it to make a soul deal?"

My brows knit together, and I cocked my head. "Well, yes. What other kind of deal is there?"

Azza's hand dropped from me, and I couldn't help but stumble slightly at the sudden lack of contact with him. "Son of a bitch, he's a damned idiot."

"Well, we agree about something," I stepped back to lean on the counter.

"He was making a deal," Azza said, moving closer to me, closing the distance I'd created, "for you."

Wide-eyed, I stared up at him. My body wanted nothing more than for him to touch me again. I blinked, trying to keep my wits about me. "For me? What do you mean?"

"Was it a redhead? Porcelain skin? Green eyes?"

"I didn't get close enough to see her eyes, but, yes, she was very fair-skinned and had red, curly hair."

"She was an angel, the angel in charge of the children. Sometimes, the angels seek us out for... some things Heaven doesn't offer. God looks the other way, usually. Lucifer rarely answers the requests for him. He did this time. She's been after Lucifer for a millennium. He bargained with her and won your visit with your daughter."

I stumbled, my knees giving out, and Azza caught me. "I—I didn't know! How could I have known?" I clutched my chest. I thought my heart would break; I was the most horrid of persons for not allowing him to explain. I looked up into Azza's eyes and began to sob.

He swept me up, and I leaned into the comfort of him, crying. He carried me, for the second time, into my bedroom, only now, he laid me down gently and crawled into the bed behind me to hold me as the floodgates opened. I was glad for it; I craved comfort.

The exhaustion hit me again, and I drifted as the tears stopped. Halfway between awake and asleep, I mumbled, "I need to allow him to come back."

"All you have to do is say it, and he can come in again," Azza said, brushing the hair off my face as I rested against him.

"Lucifer, come back." I expected to hear a portal but didn't. My concern dragged me from my lethargic state and knitted my brow. "Why isn't he coming?"

"He can't, which is why I'm here. He had no way of telling you, so he set me as guard both to protect you but also to tell you, should you ask for him."

"But where is he?"