"Yes, though the demons of the Goetia in turn rebelled against the King," the warrior angel's shroud of doubt settled into Gabriel like fire and ice.

"If not for God's mercy he would not have granted Solomon the power to seal the demons- they are to be released only with the passing of two ages by evocation of immortal blood," Gabriel reminded him.

"Yes - immortal blood," the warrior angel protested, pointing out that Dantalion too, was of immortal blood.

"No, thee cannot be evoked by one of immortal blood who holds the same curse," Gabriel reminded his brother. "Remember, Dantalion is still young. It is not of his doing. It is God's will he be saved."

So, by God's order, Dantalion remained protected, coveted within the third heaven. He continued to answer to the calls of mankind, protecting, healing, and most recently, Dantalion's desire for a mortal girl Lilith, her spirit free, long black hair blowing with the winds of the desert storm. She felt his power of thought and his ability to cause and show love in her mortal dominion. She did not belong among the others of her village, they were shaman healers, teachers to guide her. Dantalion lusted for this mortal girl, and her mortality was his to take.

"I hear your voice, I know what you are," Lilith whispered to Dantalion. "I don't fear the immortal powers you hold over me…I know you want to leave the third heaven."

"I never asked to be guardian of the mortal dominion. I was born unto it," Dantalion told her.

Lilith, pointed to the dusty miles of desert surrounding her. "I never asked for my fate either."

"Is it justified I should never be allowed to love?" Mesmerized by her beauty, Dantalion knew his decision would fail the grace of God, and disgrace his purpose within the third heaven. He didn't care. He for once felt alive. He wanted to touch her, not in thought, but in physical form.

When they met in secret, the moon was full above the pines in the Courtyard of the Undead. It was the eve of the Summer Solstice. Stone borders outlined the Courtyard, Its walls surrounded a central area, sunken beneath eye level. At one end was a towering pedestal, beneath it, an altar of jagged stone like the face of a mountain. Thick iron chains were embedded into the center. Wisteria spilled over the altar. Several feet away, stone pillars formed a circle nine feet across. The only sound was that of their breathing.




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