Things had changed between Gabriel and his mother the day she had struck him. He had not known it then, for it was a subtle and gradual shift, but things had changed. When she had abandoned the clan, this cycle had only continued on its path and led him to the inevitable end he now faced. Gabriel wondered if she would hit him again; he did not put it past her. This time he would not blame her. What he had done to Samael was vastly different than what he did now.
“After what happened last summer, it’s apparent that you’re no longer as well as you once were.” His voice lacked emotion—it was the voice of a politician, the voice of a man with snake-venom in his bite and violence in his heart. Gabriel was far too cruel for his own good. “You’ve served Inferni well, and it’s now our turn to serve you. This is your choice, of course,” he added, though his eyes and his face screamed otherwise. “There’s still much that you can aid with, especially with the younger members who don’t recognize their potential. I will not require more than this of you.”
His eyes narrowed, challenging her.
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