Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Samael felt it with each breath, each minute beat of his heart and even each small amount of stimuli he took in. The very demonic essence that he once denied was taking root, accelerating and growing more powerful with the passing days. Even looking at holy symbols now was beginning to bring with it the longer pain of when he touched one so long ago. The phantom agony that caused him to press his teeth together to form an annoyed grimace on his features. The ginger cambion always had a reason for going places now aside from his shabby apartment hidden in Chicago and New York was no exception. Aside from trying to hide from his nephilim half-brother, he was looking into a case that involved a cult that purported to worship his father. These children of the Raven as they had come to calling themselves. Even he knew his father had no interest in that kind of thing.

Afterall he had an entire realm devoted to his very being. A few humans singing hymns was of no consequence.

Adam had taken to making his worry over the half-demon even more obvious lately, calling his cellphone at the very least aside from the phone calls which irritated him more than anything else. This city mired within human filth was something that he wanted to keep safe from those unstable enough to think a prince of hell wanted to help them in any way. Eventually he had come to ignore most of his text messages that were sent ad nauseum without any reason beyond human worry. Despite his love for the vampire, a small part of him was glad he didn’t have to deal with the verbal rebuttal of not answering a text. Immortals rarely ever held something so small as a slight in the end.

Why his disdain over religious symbols came up had a simpler reason. He had been on the way to a spot where he would find someone that had information about this cult, but one of those evangelical types stepped before him. FInely dressed in slacks with a clean shaven face and not unattractive features. He noticed him walking through the seedier parts of town, only a few feet from his friends. A crucifix hung brilliantly around his neck, dangling there like tacky metal testicles would dangle from the tailgate of a truck. They shouted spoke something about getting right with the lord, and something about metahumans being a sign of the end times. Lucius ALba was apparently the Anti-christ, though he saw the more more as just an annoying human with intense ideals. Despite being called the devil on earth, he was not literally that.

Everyone would have spoken about that.

Samael smirked, taking care to push the pamphlet back without snapping the poor young mans wrist. ”Sorry handsome, already got an express ticket.” Sunglasses were lowered, revealing eyes which lacked both pupils and sclera. Leaving only voids that oddly twinkled with intelligence. Their expression shifted from that friendly look to one of sheer horror, and the cambion laughed. Without a backwards glance he continued walking, moving around shabby looking complexes and homes until he came to the one. Small little details matched the picture he had been given on his phone, even down to how the front door sagged and had a seemingly ready to break door frame.

As usual his choice of clothes beyond sunglasses didn’t stand out. Just a black leather jacket over white shirt, and worn jeans tucked into boots. His hair was shortened on the side, with what looked to be a short scruffy beard of more ginger hair growing along his jaw. Senses took in the smell of humanity; sweat, waste and the sound of someone...moaning? Well that did make sense considering that his informant apparent did occasionally frequent prostitutes. It made sense for a demon that supposedly tied itself with lust, despite offering to help him. They were only half like himself, so that made some sense in the long run. Both likely had a more vested interest within the human world than within the world that had no interest in half measures.

He felt over the various runed weapons hidden within glamor on him. Knives, swords, small caliber guns enhanced with magic and various other things he took the time to make sure would hold up to most threats. The stairs creaked as he ascended the steps, picking out the room where the sound came from. He had noted what sounded like shouted and then the sound of something colliding with a wall. Now this was an interesting twist, or he was dealing with someone that liked to kill their ladies of the evening after finishing with them. The sharp scent of fresh spilled blood made that fact more apparent, and so he knew a little haste was needed. Not that the cambion cared one way or another what happened to someone who had sold themselves to something like him. In the end he had bought into the fact that his kind didn’t deserve love.

As he stepped through the door thunder struck in the distance and the distinct scent of...angel hit his nostrils. Hanging on the wall, metal poking through her abdomen was a woman with a trick falling from her slack jaw. ”Wasn’t expecting an angel here, or a dead woman. I suppose the divine are getting a little more visceral with their smiting tactics.” Despite how calm he seemed, Samael was more than on the defensive. Should they try to kill him, well the cambion had a few means by which he could defend himself from certain death. Beyond the haphazardly opened doors of the balcony he saw the crouching figure, naked and wretchedly wracked with emotion. ”Though your kind normally don’t vocally curse the sky, which is a new one.” With gloves slipped on, he slowly removed the woman from the hook and let he rest on the bed only a few steps away. At the very least she deserved to be sound in a more dignified position.

In a flurry of motion the angel had risen from its crouching position to one of power, at least that's what he assumed as the case. His knowledge of how they worked was limited considering his own exposure, and so the male just kept on edge. There was no telling how powerful this celestial was, and how quickly he would actually be able to dispatch the cambion should he want to. Instead his lips curled into a slightly amused line, considering the dangerous but not so covered angel curiously. Within a second they were face to face, the scent of angel nauseating and the concept that there was a dagger within his hand even more obvious. It took all the self control he had not to react in a violent fashion, muscles along his neck tensing for a second while he kept still.

There was no need to get the seemingly frightened angel stabbing him with holy weapons. Those injuries typically did not heal in the way that he wanted, but then again that was just a half-breeds sword compared to the genuine article. ”Typical angel behavior. All good looks but the manners don’t match.” He seemed to scan him over once again with a wry wink, guessing that any weapons he did wield would be conjured with a thought. That was how his kind were, and yet they didn’t tend to give into lust without...well consequences. ”Not really interested in your kind or even being in the same room as them. I was just hoping to find someone else here. Seems I was given bad information.” He stated plainly, letting the shadows rise like silent snakes behind the angel.

Precautions more than anything as they stayed within the darkness and did nothing more. ”Besides, I doubt any powers below would care much for me if I killed you anyhow. I doubt  an angel would commit my name to memory, but most demons don’t exactly like me either.” Samael was frank, his tone didn’t suggest any real attempt to lie to the angel. Last time he tangled with on of their kind ended with a rather nasty scar, one that began to pulse with pain. ”Was looking for someone that might have had information on a certain demonic cult, so if you could please get the hell out of my face.” Please. Now that was a new one but maybe he was just in one of those moods.

Should the one threatening him step down, the shadows would slink back where they belong without threatening them any further while the cambion didn’t actually relax.

Samael expected to be struck down by the blessed blade, but instead it was stowed away without being stained by black blood. That demon portion of himself wanted to strike out at the being before him, and yet here he was not doing so. Instead he found himself looking to the bare angel, arcing a brow while they even turned from him and picked up a bottle of alcohol beyond the broken doors. Having them rudely bump into his shoulder was annoying, however he kept his attention on the angel who seemed less than pleased with his existence. Now that was something that sounded familiar.

Trailing around the bed now considering the poor dead woman, he internally wondered who she had been. Despite part of him believing she deserved it, another part couldn’t help thinking she had someone that loved her. Now someone that would mourn their daughter, sister or maybe even mother from the look of her. Angels were nothing more than glorified sociopaths within his mind. Caring little for the lives of those that they trampled on for the sake of some god. Eventually the angels voice croaked out a question, Samael smelling the tinge of alcohol in the air.

”Would've thought someone like you could have guessed by now.” He sounded almost surprised, raking fingers down the dead woman's face to close her eyes. ”I’m a cambion, half human and half demon if you want the full thing.” It sounded almost like something he didn’t really have to explain. As if he were telling something that anyone should have known from name alone. Turning from the corpse, he fully considered the angel who seemed to hold no reservations about revealing their full form to him. Well defined, and even attractive on anyone else. Still the concept of feeling any manner of lust towards an angel did not appeal beyond hormonal reactions.

”So, not that the whole no clothes thing is a major thing but would you mind putting something on?” He stated, knowing that a small part of him did mind it. That part that also cared about modesty for some unknown reason.

Samael saw some of the recognition that came across the angels face. As if simply saying what he was gave more information than any real insinuation. His kind were just another thing that the celestial were meant to hate, sometimes without reason beyond the fact he had been born evil. Only death could cleanse his soul so many had said while wielding heavenly fire and crystalline swords. Many seemed to have false assumptions about his own power, though even then he managed to escape simply through guile and skill rather than raw power. That slowly seemed to be changing, even if it put him below most of his cambion siblings and of course Asmoday. She was however an odd case, considering that well she would not be something an angel enjoyed.

With what looked to be an amused expression, the angel snapped and covered himself. An attractive annoyance and one that had interestingly good tastes in clothing. Now their standings in the universe were shown through the simple application of bodily coverings. Not that many would think about something so minute like that. Instead he smirked, looking him over once again before chuckling. Within an instant he had gone from drunken mess to something more than that. The very image of an angel, despite how he imagined there would have been more celestial light. Were his mind not so poisoned with disdain for angels, Samael might have even found himself interested to an extent. Instead they were doing something that was of greater importance.

The angel walked beyond him and stepped onto the balcony, all the more controlled of his own faculties. Was it that easy for the divine to shake something off like that without any real issue? A small part of him felt envy towards the ability to do that. ”Samael, poison of god or blindness if you want that definition.” He added in once the angel gave their name as they questioned about the cult. Now that was an interesting little question, something he didn’t know if he wanted to give the full answer. There was always someone willing to blame him for the sins of his father.

A common mistake of humans honestly.

”As for the cult, it’s a bunch of humans that want my father to notice them. They seem to think that just killing a few virgins or goats would be enough to actually get him to favor them like he’s a dime store Satan.” His eyes considered the hand extended before him and hesitantly shook it. ”I’ll have to warn you that working with me might make you come to odds with my brother. He isn’t exactly pleased with my existence.” He added, pulling the hand back and burying it into his pockets. ”So, got your own ride or should I let you ride on mine?”

Here Samael was conversing with an angel rather than being locked in what could only be described as mortal combat with them. Calling himself the poison of god likely did not help any, considering many would think a demon with the name of an angel as blasphemous. That always seemed to be a gripe with the divinely minded, enough so that he preferred to just refer to himself as a shorter name and yet here he was. Perhaps just to see how this one would react in particular. The angel removed one of his cigara from the pocket, and Samael mirrored him with a small packet of cigarettes from his back pocket. Slightly squished, but still viable enough as shown by him removing one.

”My father is very infamous among those that know a little about demons. Might not be Satan but I guess a Prince of Hell is also good enough for some. Easier to get ahold of i’ve been told.” With a flick he brought to life a flame from his battered bic lighter. Taking a drag and blowing the smoke out in a small, yet billowing cloud from his nostrils. Almost demonic in a fashion, considering many associated smoke with them anyhow. Giving he butt a flick, he let the half lite and used ashes fall to the floor.

”An informant of mine was supposed to be here to give me information on the Cults next gathering but I found an angel instead. Some would call it fate and others would call it bad luck.” Another drag, the sudden buzz giving him a certain calmness about the situation. ”I’m sure we could handle him just fine, unless he’s gotten stronger. That’s always a possibility. Though I doubt my bike will be too slow, unless you’re one of those people that move fast as a jetplane or whatever. That’s a different story.” Would they even know what a jetplane was? Some angels were so clueless about the world that they tended to make themselves come off as stupid despite what could be called heavenly wisdom.

Removing his cellphone from his pocket, Samael dialed a number and called. After a few rings someone picked up. ”Hey, the information you gave me was wrong.” He growled into the speaker,  eyes narrowed in an annoyed fashion behind his glasses.

”No that can’t be right. I was told he would be right there waiting for you.” The voice beyond said sounding a little agitated.

”Well that’s obviously wrong because all I found was a naked angel and a dead hooker. Not exactly on the list of things I was expecting. Beginning to question why the big guy keeps you around.”

”Hey now, no need to bring Osiris up in this. I’m sure you informant might just be running a little late.” Now he was beginning to sweat. No many vampires wanted to anger the person that could roast them with a thought. Especially someone they couldn’t just run away from.

”If you don’t want anything reaching his ears, then I would suggest getting the information I want or getting them here now.’ A few more groveling words and hge was left with someone that hung up on him. It looked like he might have burned a bridge here, however he didn’t like the idea of allowing stupid humans free reign in their human sacrifices. After a few seconds came what looked like an address, and one that was settled in side a club he had gone to before. Not one he was very welcome to and yet one that would have a good amount of information.

”Alright I know where we’ll need to go. Hope you don’t mind nightclubs because that’s our next stop. Guess i’ll try to keep up or whatever.” Stepping past the angel he pulled himself over the edge of the balcony and seemed to plummet downwards before impacting concrete on his feet. A few cracks spiderwebbed outwards from the point of impact but he didn’t feel anything that came close to pain. His body could take a plummet from the second story without even being bothered. From this view he could see his motorcycle, this slightly dingy but overall fine looking piece of equipment. Throwing a leg over it he revved it up and then they would be off.

The speed of his motorcycle was more than he could reach on foot, though going so fast would have brought annoying cops onto him alongside flying just bringing eyes on him. Not many would want to look upon a dark eyed and dark winged metahuman flying above them. Love for the powered individuals was dwindling to the point that he wouldn’t be surprised if people tried to lynch him eventually. So many people that would need to die if they made the mistake of threatening the cambion in any meaningful way. Having an angel fly not so far from him was a strange feeling, especially since he knew that the angel had no intentions of killing him yet. Would they prove useful or would they just turn on him once the situation had been finished.

A few people turned their attention to the ginger blasting through the streets until he stopped before their destination. The nightclub itself wasn’t exactly bad looking, nothing that he wasn’t used to at this point with a few people stepping through the door decorated by a few flyers. Mostly events they had in the hopes of attracting more people, to make more money even. Kicking down the stand, he felt the vehicle idle as Samael stepped from the cycle and looked around for the angel that had been following. Eventually he imagined they would land, likely drawing a little attention in the parking lot but then again people in New York were used to sightings. Some would have even approached the meta in the hopes of getting pictures with them. Idiots all of them, but Samael knew better than to draw attention.

Felons had little reason to want such attention when they were still technically on the run. ”Here it is. Try not to draw too much attention to yourself, there are a few annoying types here who might get pissed with having their operation messed with.” Powerful vampires, humans with magic in their hands and other assholes he had learned much about the last time he came here. Admittedly this was where he met Adam those many years ago. Cocksure, alluring and strangely understanding of his situation despite how much they argued at length then. ”They’re also not too fond of your kind, so I guess it would be better not to step on any toes for you.” Despite holding that radiance most angels did, something felt off about this Beliel guy.

Only time would tell what that was and his curiosity might have waned by then. Not that he ever really tried to keep interests within the divine sorts that came across him. The two approached as a large, dark skinned man stood before them, human in appearance with rippling muscles that came through a tightly fitting white shirt. His glare from behind the glasses was obvious, focusing on the cambion and then to the other with an even more critical knitting of the brows. ”I know.” He dug out what looked to be a crisp hundred, as the bouncer stepped aside and let the two through. He would have been allowed fine, but there were small fees to letting others in.

Beyond the door music began to pulse through the air, people dancing and drinking away colorful drinks. Some were human, sticking close to paler looking individuals that were obviously not. Glamors ran rampant with those that didn’t look human enough, allowing them to mingle within the world they knew they had not place in. Approaching the bar, he rapped it a few time sand the bartender came. ”Bloody mary on the rocks, hold the A positive.” He grinned wolfishly while they nodded and walked away, Samael taking a seat. ”Take a seat. Try not to kill anyone, I don’t need to hide anymore bodies now.”

The two now stood in a hunting ground, various creatures looking over humans that likely would have piqued their interest in various senses. A few looked to Samael, but the second they smelled out his demon blood the interest was lost. His own warning was also something that would keep these monsters from taking offense to having one of their pretty little humans broken by anyone except them. ”I hope that’s the case. I know a few people that take offense to having their prostitutes killed.” Whether that be because they pimped them out or were more related to them, well that was an unknown. A glass came down on the bar, thick red liquid sloshing with a few ice cubes. He sniffed over the drink and took a small swig of it. It tasted salty with the same sensation that came with vodka, a slight burn from what he assumed was just rather strong booze mixed in.

A few people moved out the corner of his eyes, looking for anyone that took a particular interest in him. There would likely be someone waiting for him, at the very least that was what he had been hoping would be the case. It was difficult to know considering he had been thrown off the trail the last time he had been sent on a trail. Having an angel actually listen to what he was saying a strange sensation, even if he was likely only doing so he could shut down the cult that was doing what it wanted. Would his father even take an interest in their rantings and sacrifices? That was when he noted something, a male breaking from the crowd. Dark brown hair, black eyes and a ponderous smile as they settled next to the ginger cambion. A glance went to the angel, but nothing about them really stood out to him.

”So are you the actual informant or just another dead end?” Samael questioned, taking another draught of his drink before letting their eyes lock.

”That I am.” He said, bartender passing him a scotch with a large piece of ice floating in the center. ”Heard you were looking into the cult of Malphas, not something any sane person would do. Though I guess The Raven Prince would want to stick it to his old man, huh?” A ponderous question, one that seemed to have little interest within what he was doing.

”Something along those lines. Guy over here also seems to have an interest in stopping that shit.” With a small motion of his thumb to Beliel,

”Sounds about right. Angel types always seem to have their odds against cults. Had someone come in here question about the cult, just with a few more threats. Think he was also looking for you.” A small motion to Samael, who seemed to know what that was about. ”Might still be around if you want to avoid them.”