They were coming. He knew that. The mole had told him.
Azazel sat in the comfortable but functional black leather office chair behind his massive desk. His mind kept wandering to her—to Anadi. He would finally meet her. If not this week, then very soon. She was in the country, somewhere near the coast at the moment. But she was bound to move towards London sooner or later. If it took too long he would have to help her a bit. Give some hint of information that would make it impossible for her to stay away.
She was here to kill him. He knew that.
Such a shame. And so Deja Vu. It was the 2000 centennial all over again. Once again, the Watchers had sent one of his own kind to stop him. Like they had then. And she would fail, just like her predecessor. Because now he was forewarned. He was aware of her existence. Of their link. Their combined origin. He also had experience in dealing with her personage.
Only now—maybe—it could have a different outcome. Dare he dream about what would be possible if they joined forces?
Sure, they would have to learn how to channel the bloodlust that she would experience because of their proximity, but that would be something they could overcome. Maybe with the correct amount of prey available at the right time. But that was a hurdle they would overcome. Just imagine how it would be to finally have a mate of the same calibre. Another immortal. Another God. He would have a soul mate, a female mirror image of himself. Together they would rule the world.
This pathetic trivial world. Sure, it had its perks. But most of them broke the petty laws that man seemed to need. Not that legislation had ever stopped him from doing what he wanted. He was impervious to the laws of man. He made breaking them a sport. Laws didn’t apply to Gods.
Anyway, he was stuck here for eternity, so he might as well have fun. And just think of how it would be if he was joined by such a magnificent creature as the Primal. Together they would show these pathetic humans what real Gods were. They would be revered as the super beings they were. Hell would reign on earth. It would be their playground. Now that was his definition of fun.
Only how was he going to achieve all this?
He needed to get close to her, get her under his influence, though he had no idea whether his psychic powers extended to her. He could manipulate any human easily. Either by mind reading or by planting thoughts and convictions in their brains. With the last Primal he had been so focussed on staying alive, that he didn’t conclusively know if she’d fallen prey to his manipulations. She had wounded him severely. That had clouded his judgement and his thoughts.
Throughout his more than twenty-six hundred years on this planet, he had been hurt countless times. Many people had tried in vain to kill him, often causing what would be mortal injuries to a regular human being. But he was far from regular, and not anywhere near anything as insignificant as a human being. But when she wounded him, it was a completely different scenario. His wounds hadn’t healed immediately. There had been excruciating pain. He had bled profusely. He had been close to dying.
Only her inexperience and the bloodlust had saved him. In her insanity, she had turned her magnificent claws and fangs on everyone near. It had been a massacre. No one was left alive, no one except him. He had crawled away when she went berserk. His only thought to get as far away from her as possible.
The idiotic Watchers had tried to stop her. They had screamed at her, implored her to change back to human form, to wake up from her insanity. To no avail. They all died horrific deaths. Ripped apart by the Primal Force they thought to control. Serves them right, he thought. Humans are no match for us. They try to manipulate Gods and this is what happens.
And now history repeats. As it so often does. Once again, the Watchers try to manipulate powers that are out of their league. They attempt to manoeuvre super beings to do their bidding. They act as if they are worthy of even being in the same space as the Gods. They are once again delusional as to the power balance here. The Forces are the top and they are so far down the ladder that they resemble mere ants. Ants that can be easily trampled.
There was one big difference for him this time—he had learned from the past experience. They obviously had not. That would work as a major advantage for him. That, and the fact that he was the one in control. Even if the Watchers didn’t know that yet. He had turned the manipulator into the manipulated.
They were so smug, thinking they could control him, or her for that matter. Yet they themselves were so easy to control. To steer. And their ego wouldn’t let them contemplate the possibility that they could be manipulated. Even their leaders. The ones who claimed that they had everything thought out, that they were in control. Even they were puppets in Azazel’s hands. He directed what they did, what they thought and how they acted. Humans were such pathetic creatures. So easily beguiled. They only saw what they wanted to see. And that was exactly what he showed them, until it was too late.
And then there were those who sought eternal life. Who wished to be immortal like him. They had no idea what they were asking for. Immortality is not the dream they portray it to be. It’s full of strife, of war, loss and pain. And then continuously. There’s no escaping immortality. Or the boredom that eventually sets in.
That was probably the worst part of it—the boredom. He had seen it all, done it all, there was nothing new left.
Nothing except her. Nothing except a union with another God. Now that would blow his mind. The possibilities were endless.
He just had to find a way to achieve what seemed to be impossible.
Oh, how he loved a challenge.