Body and Soul

Malachi winced as his father lashed out, in a rare sign of anger. His head snapped to the side.

"Don't you ever, ever speak about your mother like that!" Azazeal ordered darkly.

Malachi turned his head to face his father with narrowed eyes.

"And why shouldn't I?" He spat.

"Because," Azazeal said simply, "Without her, you wouldn't be here with me,"

"A lot of bloody good that is, isn't it! All she was good for was to have me-"

"That is enough!" Azazeal shouted as he slowly lost control of his temper. "You're mother was a wonderful, beautiful woman!"

"If you think so highly of her why do you never talk to me about her? I don't know anything about her other than the fact that she is my mother!" Malachi shouted back. Azazeal's breath caught in his throat as for a moment he saw Cassie standing before him. The image quickly faded away though and Malachi stood in her place.

There was a long moment of silence as father and son stared at one another.

"What do you want to know then?" Azazeal asked as he regained his composure and walked towards the large gothic church window.

Malachi turned and looked at his father and thought for a moment. "Everything, I want to know everything. What was she like? What did she look like? Why isn't she still here with us? Dad…I want to know everything,"

Azazeal smiled sadly and turned his head slightly, looking at his son over his shoulder. Malachi sunk into the plush red velvet armchair.

"You're mother's name was Cassandra Hughes. No one called her Cassandra though, she preferred to called Cassie," Azazeal began softly. "Her father was a McBain, and you already know about my links with the McBain family, don't you Malachi?"

"Yes, I do," Malachi nodded.

"Cassie was the last of the McBain witches, although she didn't know that. No until she found the key to her powers, that ultimately summoned me and started a chain of events that later led to you being born," He paused and looked out of the window and up at the twinkling stars.

"What did she look like?" Malachi asked, curiosity in his voice. Azazeal let out a little, quiet laugh.

"She was beautiful. She had blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. I see a lot of her in you, you know," Azazeal looked back at his son with a loving expression. "Sometimes it's almost like she's here,"

"What was she like?"

"When I first met your mother, I sacrificed her best friend-"

"Thelma?"

"Yes. Your mother wasn't very happy with that,"

"I'd imagine she wasn't," Malachi remarked dryly. Azazeal laughed in mirth.

"Thelma didn't die though did she? She came back as a ghost."

"What about after that? After you killed Thelma?"

"Cassie was defiant and strong willed. She kept refusing me, kept refusing to go along with her destiny," He walked from the window and over to the chair opposite Malachi, sinking into it.

"It was a while before I got anywhere with her, but you know, I enjoyed the chase." He smirked at the memory.

"Did you love her?" Malachi asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes, I did." He paused. "I suppose you could say I still do," He added quietly.

Malachi and Azazeal sat in silence. One taking in all that he had just been told, the other reliving memories of days gone by and remembering the woman that he would mourn for an eternity.

"You know, you'd of loved her very much if she were still here Malachi. She had such a way with you when you were a baby. Although she pretended to me that she did not care for, I know she did. Why else would she sacrifice her own life to save yours? Her love for you was so strong. She wanted you to live and she could not bear to see you die."

Malachi looked at his father with sad eyes.

"I only wish you could remember her," Azazeal said sadly.

"I think I do remember her," Malachi looked down at his hands. "I have this memory, of a pretty blonde woman. She gives me this pendant type thing and I know that she's someone of importance because as soon as she smiles at me I'm filled with a feeling of warmth…"

Azazeal smiled.

"A mother's love is a very powerful thing Malachi."

"Why don't you ever talk about her? If you claim to love her so?"

"Just because I do not talk about her it doesn't mean I don't love her, miss her or cherish the memories that I have of her. I am haunted every time I close my eyes, and do you know why? Because every night it's a different memory of her. Her smile, her laugh, her voice…" Azazeal paused and swallowed, "And her death,"

Malachi looked down at his hands again.

"It is a very difficult thing to hold onto those who are no longer here. To remember her every minute of every day. To know you had this exceptional woman in your life. I'm grateful for her, because without her I would not have you. I know that when she gave me you, she gave me part of herself forever. I'm grateful that I have you,"

"You're not angry at me then? For me being here and Cassie not?"

"No, I'm not. How can I be? What Cassie chose to do was her own choice. I know she did it out of love. She would not want me to be angry with you either. I just wish she could see the man you have become my son. I know she would be very proud of you,"

Malachi smiled sadly.

"I wish she could see me now too dad,"

Azazeal looked at his son affectionately. He was so much like his father, yet so much like his mother. Sometimes too much at times. Azazeal stood and went over to the window again, his back to his son.

"What do you miss most about her?"

The question caught Azazeal off guard. What did he miss most about Cassie? He knew he missed the smile she gave him, her defiance to succumb to him. He missed her laugh when she found something truly amusing. He missed the way she used to kiss him, he missed the way she would make love to him, passionate, yet gentle, yet sensual and loving. He missed the way he used to chase her. He even missed the arguments they used to have. He smiled as he remembered how she would look at him, repulsed at first, and then slowly but surely, lovingly. She had been his perfect fit.

"What do I miss most about her you ask?" Azazeal turned his head and looked at his son.

"I miss her - all of her. Body and soul,"

End