Chapter 44: Cold as Hell, Part 10

It was the moment of truth.

If Christina rejected him, he was as good as dead. Her sisters and the angel Castiel would join forces and wipe him from this world without mercy. He had barely been able to withstand Castiel, let alone counterattack. Fighting two other dangerous opponents was out of the question.

His conquest, all his ambitions, would end in the bitterest way possible. At least he could say that in this life, he had tried everything, ignoring useless notions like morality or other excuses people made, while animals were the ones who truly succeeded, no matter how many people they crushed along the way.

At least he had that, yes.

But in his view, it was still a load of crap. The punchline of a cosmic joke. But he didn’t have to worry about his life ending like this. He had her, and deep down, he knew he always had. He hadn’t done much to deserve her. Just insisted, just showed her that he, his new self, wanted the same things she did.

How many years had she been fighting against her forbidden feelings?

In any case, forbidden fruit was always sweeter, and he wasn’t going to let her slip away now that he had finally found her. No more than he could let go of this power and his dark ambitions, which made him feel larger than life and not the shadow of a person.

She didn’t shake his hand, but she did something much better. She touched Castiel’s chest and sent him flying with the force of dozens of ice spears generated as quickly as she made contact. She was stronger than she thought, or maybe the circumstances had pushed her beyond her limits. In any case, there was no need to question something that worked in her favor.

What she should question was why she had been slower to attack Ivor, using the water from the fountain instead of simply doing that. Did she hesitate to attack a family member, even if it was to protect him?

Not when she had been so ashamed for not intervening earlier, even though she had just followed orders.

That might have stopped her from attacking Ivor sooner, while he slashed his face or even earlier, complicating things, ruining the plan. But by the time she stepped out of hiding, she should have gotten over that.

Whatever the answer, it could wait.

Castiel landed roughly and was struggling to get up, perhaps because of the weight and the amount of ice in the hole that used to be his chest. He wouldn’t last long. Everyone knew that, which was why Christina screamed desperately:

“Violet!”

She shouted her older sister’s name as if it were a clear and direct command. It must have been, since she didn’t hesitate for a second. She generated several layers of earth, almost burying the angel. She immobilized his legs, his arms, though only up to a point.

Just enough for Sam to rip the light blade from that monster’s hands.

He didn’t know a damn thing about angels, but it made sense to him that the weapons they used to fight (or at least this type used) could be used to kill them. He had hit the nail on the head, judging by the brief flicker of fear in that inhuman creature’s eyes.

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“No!”

Of course, Sam ignored his cry and stabbed him in the side. He would have liked to stab him in a better, more direct spot, but it was one of the few places not covered by Violet’s rock. Still, Castiel screamed, and it wasn’t an agonizing scream, no sir. But it wasn’t a sign that he was about to turn the tables, either. He screamed as a blinding, and Sam assumed celestial, light left Adams’ worn-out corpse, flying away. He had chosen to flee with his tail between his legs after all that posturing.

Frustrating, when he could attack him again at any moment, although he doubted many people would let themselves be controlled like a puppet by an angel, no matter how devout they were or thought they were.

However, now he knew he could take the angel, and when he returned, he’d be ready and stronger than ever.

He would have to settle for that, even though the light was still retreating. It hadn’t disappeared from sight yet, but it was out of reach. Or so he had thought. Then he saw Belfegor stumbling out of the frozen ruins of the mansion. The first thing he felt wasn’t relief but rage. How was it possible he had taken so long?

The fight, the conversation, might have seemed longer than they really were. But still, that long?

What the hell had he been doing all this time?

Hiding from the demon. Like a dirty rat, tail between its legs, trembling in the dark. Suddenly he knew, and his rage reached new, unimaginable heights, even considering he was generally an asshole.

“Go after him now!” he screamed, feeling like a wild animal.

Not his best idea. Not in front of the other two, but he couldn’t hold back. Especially when he saw him blatantly disobeying, running toward him. So much for swearing loyalty, so much for kissing his feet (metaphorically, but literally if given the chance or the order, he suspected), for this. He had never trusted a filthy demon, of course, but he had counted on no demon daring to disobey him, as Satan had said.

It seemed the old man had lied.

Or been wrong, too much time trapped in the cage, away from the real world. Enough time for things to change. Or for him to lose his mind. There was a reason isolation was considered a torture in itself.

Belfegor stopped in front of him, his face red, covered in sweat. Maybe “daring to disobey” wasn’t the right way to put it. It was clear the little creature was terrified. Did he fear Castiel more than he feared him? Sam smiled, feral. He would show him just how wrong he was to think that way.

Sam didn’t demand an explanation. He let his harsh gaze do all the work. The demon didn’t dare meet his eyes, but he could definitely feel the pressure.

“My lord, I truly apologize. If you want me to go after the angel, I will, but I warn you I have no chance of winning. I beg your forgiveness. I only disobeyed because I would die in vain.”

“What did you do to my… to our mother? I still don’t fully understand what happened to me. To my birth. Was it you all along?”

Belfegor seemed surprised by the change of topic. And relieved.

“No. Only from a little before your eighteenth birthday, nothing more. Satan needed someone to watch over you and protect you. Before that, he just needed a womb.”

“How was I conceived then? With Satan in the cage?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I doubt the old-fashioned way, that’s all.”

“And Mary? What did you do with her?”

“I think you already know, sir.”

“Say it.”

“She’s dead.”

Sam stabbed him with the light blade without a second thought. A gasp of pain, an exhale. Then the demon burned and was reduced to ashes. He had the audacity to look betrayed, even. If not for his sisters, Sam would be dead now, and there was no good explanation for his delay. Absolutely none, not when he had seen how fast that smoke was.

Of course, he had killed him for a different reason.

Because he had no other choice.

He had sworn not to let his emotions carry him away again. So, even though Belfegor had failed him against the angel, he acknowledged that he could still be a useful tool. But that would cost him his sisters’ trust for good. Associating with a demon, letting his mother’s murder slide as if it didn’t matter. He couldn’t throw away so much work just for a coward who had turned his back on him in his moment of greatest need.

“I know we have a lot to talk about,” Sam said, dropping the weapon to the ground. It had just occurred to him, but he was surprised he had been able to hold a heavenly weapon without any problems. “I hope that after everything, you’ll give me that chance.”

The ice engulfing the mansion creaked. An equally cold wind blew through the fields of carnage.

Cold as Hell, Part 10: END