Azgoth fixed a glare on Rakon. “Why did you let Phenex even try to work his powers on Micah?”
“You got so upset with me the last time I tried to kill the bastard. Something about all the paperwork involved in offing one of the Nine. So I figured I’d let Micah deal with Phenex. As I said, your boy did just fine,” Rakon told him with a smirk.
“But your his partner,” Azgoth started, when Rakon cut him off.
“Yes, and for us to work as a team, I can’t be babying him. He won’t thank me for it. Luckily, he’s damn good at what he does, and I can count on him to have my back. Today, I had his back but he didn’t need me to step in. Think about it. If he looks weak, people will come after him. He’s your Packmaster, which makes him a big target.”
Azgoth sighed as the truth of Rakon’s words resonated with him.
“Um, as lovely as I’m sure Micah will look in his new uniform, I did send him to the locker room for a reason if you two idiots will stop squabbling,” Percy said with a sniff.
Azgoth forced his gaze away from Rakon and looked at Percy with a frown. “I don’t hink it’s a good idea to hide things from my Huntmaster.” See? He could learn.
“I happen to agree with you. But. Tomorrow is the Grand Event. Not even war looming will stop that event from happening. Lucifer would make everyone regret it til the end of times. And you’ll need to prepare him.”
“Oh, fuck,” Azgoth groaned, slumping into a chair.
“And you know that Lucifer will insist you bring your new Packmaster, so you won’t be able to skip it this year,” Percy said, an evil glint in his eye. “Not even an imp rampage emergency will get you out of it.”
Just then, Micah came back into the room, and Azgoth was pretty sure he had lost all power of speech. The man looked amazing in the black military style tactical gear. Percy had even added his House colors as accents throughout, and the Packmaster insignia on his collar.
Azgoth stood up and took Micah in his arms and kissed him soundly. The glowfits went into an excited celebration around them. And cheering and whistling broke out around them until Azgoth unleashed a bit of his power. The hellhoundcat pups pranced around excitedly, then started to pounce on Izgel who had fallen to the ground with the force of Azgoth’s strike.
“Doing okay down there Izgel?” Puck asked sweetly, as she pulled the other agent back up to his feet.
“Just lovely,” Izgel said as he muttered to himself about the new no fun rules in the office.
“So, Huntmaster, Percy reminded me of an event we must attend tomorrow. And it would seem that you already have the perfect outfit,” Azgoth said, ignoring the grumbles around him.
“Why do I hear something ominous in your voice Azgoth?” Micah asked.
“Because this event is worthy of all nine levels of hell,” Azgoth replied grimly, before he pressed another gentle kiss to Micah’s lips.