Samael walked the wide cobble stone path along the waterway. Night fell over the city and the lights from the surrounding businesses and residents reflected on the water's shiny surface. He had been pulled to that place. A death, a special death had taken place and had drawn him to those streets. He walked with purpose in his stride, following the strange tug at his legs that was guiding him toward the newly Departed. He focused on the draw and pull of the deceased spirit. He sensed that it was female and of a specific importance – he could feel The Creator's protection on the soul. This alone gave him reason to pause. The Creator was involved and He only involved himself in matters of high importance. Samael stopped near a small red boat that had been parked for the evening. He bent over the edge of the stone walkway and peered into the water and stared at the reflection of the moon on the surface until the image blurred. When the image blurred he focused his thoughts on the departed soul.

In the small ripples flowing and breaking against the stone walls, he saw a woman's body as it rested limp on a bed of blue satin sheets covered with black satin pillows. Another was with the dead woman but he was unable to see him clearly. He was a blur and so was much of the deceased woman. Facial features were undetectable, only silhouettes of male and female likenesses were evident. He stared at the wavy images on the water for a moment more before the vision was lost. Not only had the vision disappeared but the pull and draw to that person had gone away too. Samael stood up straight, searched his feelings – the place where he feels the Departed and then collected his thoughts. The only other time this strange occurrence happened was when The Messiah died on the cross. He was not to have any dealings with The Christ. The Creator oversaw the entire operation of The Holy Son's lifespan from His birth to His death. Samael was only to see to the collection of other souls that departed at that time. He recognized this phenomenon from the experience he had way back when. The whole thing could only mean that The Creator did not want him involved. This puzzled him, before when this happened, The Creator told Samael what He wanted and made it known that he was not to interfere and to what purpose The Angel of Death needed to obey this command. He had received no instruction, no warning or any messages delivered to him by other angels, but he knew the meaning of this interference just the same. The Creator was moving the pieces of His chess game into play.

Feeling at a loss of a mission dissolved, The Angel of Death walked over to a Bistro that was still lit up with a string of pale lights that reflected on the water and sat him-self down at one of its outdoor tables. He ordered a black coffee and four almond biscotti dipped in dark chocolate. He sipped his coffee and allowed his thoughts to drift towards Inanna and Russ but more towards Inanna. He had wounded her quite badly. His sword had pierced the depths of her unholy body.

He closed his eyes as the memories of plunging his sword into her soft and supple body flooded his mind and senses. He remembered her facial expression as the tip of his sword first broke her smooth and taught skin and how her full moist lips parted into a scream as he pushed the full length of his blade deep into her body with a satisfaction and horror like none he had ever experienced before. He remembered the flutter of his heart and the phantom sensation of an erection as Inanna threw her head back in agony while a warm rush of excitement, pleasure and arousal washed over Samael's entire body. He could hear Lilith screaming again while he sat lost deep in his thoughts. Her screams as he penetrated her daughter deeply with the long, strong divine metal of his powerful sword and her terror while he thrust forcefully into Inanna there on the street, pulled a small dark smile to his lips.

The thought of the night's earlier events brought something similar to sexual pleasure to his castrated male body. His dominance over Inanna, seeing her beautiful naked form as the creature and her pain – most of all her pain as her body shuddered under his thrust in his mind caused The Angel of Death to experience something close to an orgasm. With his eyes closed and head tilted back as he gripped the sides of the small wrought iron table, Samael rode the sensation of sexual orgasm that rushed through his body. His eyes rolled back into his head as he played Inanna's screams over and over in his mind. His breathing labored as he remembered what her body felt like straining against his while she tried to push him away and his lips parted in a moan as he imagined Inanna's sultry voice begging to be penetrated harder and wanting more. He heard her say more while lost in the depths of his sickening ecstasy when what he really heard was the waitress' voice asking him if he would like more coffee. Samael's moment of disturbing self-gratification was interrupted by his dutiful attendant.

He looked up slowly into the waitress' eyes. A sheen of sweat glistened at his brow and his eyes glowed with lust. The young woman stood poised and ready to fetch his coffee, all she needed was his command. Samael looked on her with curiosity, for a moment he saw Inanna's face on that young woman's body, ready and willing to please him. When he blinked and saw the woman's true face complete with her bewildered expression he settled himself, cleared his throat and came back to the present reality. He dismissed the young woman and watched the sway of her hips as she walked away, seeing Inanna's hips switching away and back into the cafe, then shook and rubbed his eyes to rid himself of the image. He removed himself from his chair and left his arrears on the table then proceeded to walk through the city with the moon at his back. Samael was stunned by his attraction to Inanna. He couldn't believe that he was beginning to feel something for her, though it was a sort of homicidal lust, the thought still shocked and made him uncomfortable.

He walked and turned those annoying thoughts of lust over in his head and something dawned on him. He'd given Inanna a fatal wound; why hadn't he been able to sense her end? He thought she'd be dead by now for sure but he hadn't felt anything. He hadn't been compelled to return to Chicago for her collection or felt the pull to her spirit. Thinking further on the subject – he went back to that night sans inappropriate feelings for Inanna. He had pierced her with the full length of his sword, driving it through the center of her body. He saw Lilith pushing at her back and screaming in pain with bloody hands but the more he thought about it the more he began to realize that the sword had not exited Inanna's body at all. It simply pierced her and was pushed through without exiting. Samael's mouth fell open as he leaned against the masonry work of the canal wall. He replayed the memory over and over in his mind. He had stabbed her with his sword meaning to kill her mother and as he plunged the sword deep into her body – he felt resistance. It had become hard to push the sword through. Then after he realized that he had missed Lilith, he tried to remove the sword, his sword that was forged to fit his hand and his hand only but found that he could not. Lilith pulled on the sword's bloody handle, covering her hands in Inanna's blood and when her attempts to remove the sword by pulling at its grip were to no avail, she went to Inanna's back hoping to push it out. There was no sword tip to push. Lilith had been screaming in shock and horror at the sight of the sword's blade sunken deep within her daughter's body. Already covered in Inanna's blood, Lilith pressed her hands to Inanna's back in disbelief and cried out more at the unbelievable sight.

Samael's head swam at his epiphany. He felt that Inanna was probably still in Chicago somewhere fighting tooth and nail for her life. He knew when he saw her transform that she was no ordinary creature but her strength in matters of death seemed to make his attraction to her grow. He found himself hoping that he found her alive and well so that he could question her on the nature of her being and when he received answers satisfactory to his curiosity – torture her at his leisure before killing her, this time making sure that he gleamed as much pleasure from the situation as possible while making sure she was dead for good. He desperately wanted the satisfaction of watching her life slip away while his hands wrapped around her neck and applied a slow and steady pressure that caused her to writher against his body until the light of life faded from her eyes. He would do these things to her while her human companion watched and then, sticking to the plan he had been forming, kill the one of his bloodline. Russell Poole.

The soft whisper of a memory in words breathed through his mind interrupting his murderous thoughts. "Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; only you are the one who gets burned." Samael shook it away with a chuckle and continued to walk down the canal route through the city of Venice.

He'd felt the call pulling him away. An old woman had just passed in her small home in the hills near the shores of the Adriatic.