“You think this is for you?” He raises a questioning brow. “I happen to like stupid movies and bad food. Most people do.”
“Yeah, but you aren’t most people. You aren’t even a person.”
Judging by the slight grimace and the way he quickly looks back at the TV screen, I underestimated the bite in my words and try to recover.
“I mean, you’re…you. You throw lavish dinner parties with food I can’t even pronounce. You drink bottles of wine I wouldn’t be able to afford in a month. You wear a different designer suit every day. This isn’t you. The fried food, beer, movie nights…this isn’t your life. I should know, because just a few months ago, it was mine.”
When he turns to me, there are shadows stirring in his eyes. “Did you ever think that I might be envious of the simplicity you once had? The simplicity of these people, this world. You look at me, and all you see is Lucifer, the ruler of all evil. The fallen angel who was once his Father’s favorite, and was so unlovable, that he was cast out of Heaven and abandoned by his family. I am the single most hated creature in the history of time and the scapegoat for every bad thing that has ever happened. Yes, you’re absolutely right. I wear the suits and I drink the wine and I exude elegant superiority, and I have for a very, very long time. But maybe, just once, I wanted something different. Maybe I wanted to be different. Maybe I just wanted you to look at me and really see me.”
My unblinking stare is my initial response. And just when I regain the function to speak actual words, he laughs.
“Nah. I’m lying. Why on earth would I want to change? You can’t alter perfection. Even the idea of pretending to be human makes me want to hang myself.”
Reflexively, I punch him in his shoulder. “You asshole. Why do you have to be such a dick all the time?”
Lucifer rubs his arm as if my hit could actually cause a sting. “You make it too easy. But in all honesty, I happen to like awful television. And besides, you’ve been kind of a Debbie Downer lately. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I’d say you had a two-by-four lodged up your ass.”
“And if I had any sense, I’d use it to impale your arrogant ass.”
“You can try, sweetheart,” he begins, picking up a fry. “But then I’d be forced to ruin my Tom Ford and pluck your pretty little head from your shoulders.”
“Hmmm,” I reply, tapping a finger to my chin. “That’s doubtful. You’re the Devil, yet you can’t even stop the Horsemen, especially the worst one of them all. And, oh, that happens to be me. Not to mention, I have the ability to wield holy light, which saved your ass just a day ago. So talk your shit all you want. We’ll see who really has the last laugh.”
“Touché,” Lucifer counters, pointing the fry in my direction. “But maybe it’s not that I can’t stop you. Maybe I just won’t. Maybe I just like seeing you squirm.”
I shake my head. “You’re diabolical.”
“So I’ve heard. Especially since that word derived from devil. You see that? I inspired the very language you speak. I’m woven into the fabric of all people of every culture. There are many demons, even more angels, and four Horsemen. Yet, there’s only one me. Don’t forget that.”
I roll my eyes, but don’t continue to egg him on, hoping to let the conversation drop. But I am left with his words still echoing in my skull. What if Lucifer actually doesn’t want to stop the apocalypse? He’d have more to gain than lose. He could single-handedly wipe out his enemies and rebuild his empire. Hell, what’s stopping him from reclaiming Earth for himself?
I try to focus my attention on the movie, but between my incessant inner ramblings, a full belly, and the overall suckiness of the day, my eyelids feel like lead. The moment the closing credits scroll up the screen, I climb to my feet and stretch.
“I’m going to turn in,” I announce mid-yawn.
“What? I was thinking Marvel next. How about a marathon?”
I shake my head. “Some other time.”
My room is dark, but I don’t bother with lights or pajamas. I kick off my jeans, whip off my bra, and climb into bed, eager to sleep away the last twenty-four hours. But I find that even in my exhaustion, it’s hard to turn off my mind. Our days are numbered. I can literally count them on one hand with fingers to spare. And it feels like we’re more lost now than we were when we first arrived.
At this point, I feel like giving up. I can’t keep waiting for another crisis, another tragedy, knowing that it will be even worse than the last. Nephilim or not, I’m not strong enough for this. I put on a good show for Lucifer and the Se7en, but inside, I’m terrified. At what point do I stop being surprised? When does it all stop hurting so much? How can I learn to turn it all off and just stop caring?
I was almost there. After Grant Park, as I sat on my bed at Irin’s, I told myself that this was it—this is when I stop caring. This is when I stop feeling. And maybe I would have truly achieved that. But then…
Lucifer.
It was as if he forced me to feel, even when it was anger and frustration with him. He wouldn’t let me go numb to all the pain and strife in my world. He refused to let me become…like him.
I don’t know how I succumb to slumber, but by some miracle, my eyelids shutter closed and my breathing deepens. I fall asleep in my bed, at The Saint, with the sounds of drunken partiers enjoying their last moments on Earth.
Then I wake up in the cemetery. And I’m not alone.
It’s all a chaotic blur from there.
Lucifer bursts into my room, naked from the waist up, eyes wide with disbelief.
“You saw her,” he says, coming over to my bedside. “You saw Gabriella.”
I nod furiously. “You saw her too?”
“Yes. In the cemetery. Dirty, bleeding. She was running, trying to escape.”
“Escape Legion.”
“Yes. He was there.”
I reel back a bit, confused. “How did you see it? Are you saying he gave us both the same dream?”
“I wasn’t dreaming,” he replies, shaking his head. “One moment, I’m reading, and then it was playing out right in front of me. Like I was there.”
“Me too. It was like…I was beside her, running with her.”
We take a beat of stunned silence before we both nearly jump out of our skin when an unfamiliar chime sounds from the living room.
“What the…”
I’m not sure if it’s an alarm or what, but we go rushing towards its origin to find that it’s coming from the jacket I haplessly draped over the loveseat. I rummage through the pockets and retrieve the cell phone Toyol shoved into my hands just before I jumped out of the car.
“Hello?”
“Did you just see that?”
I nod even though I know Toyol can’t see me. “It was Gabriella in the cemetery. You saw it too, right?”
“We all did. We need to get there as soon as possible. We’ll be there in 10.”
He hangs up and I scurry back to my room and pull on my pants from last night. Within the next second, I’m in the bathroom, hurriedly brushing my teeth and throwing my hair into a messy ponytail. Lucifer regards me with a stern yet thoughtful look.
“You need to get dressed. They’ll be here soon.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea. It could be a trap.”
“Or it could be our only chance to rescue Gabriella, so we have to take it. You saw for yourself—she’s there. Or she was there. Either way, I’m not going to sit around waiting.”
“And you saw who was with her. Meaning, Legion is here. In New Orleans. You aren’t prepared for this.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m prepared for.”
“Eden, just stop and think about this for a moment.”
I slam down my hairbrush in frustration. “We’ve been stopping and thinking for days. This is our chance, Lucifer. I’m taking it.”
He huffs out an aggravated breath. “Fine. If this is what you want.”
I nod. “You need to summon Niko. He and Dorian need to be
there.”
“We shouldn’t involve them until we know what we’re up against.”
I stop what I’m doing, and finally turn to face him. He seems obviously shaken—who wouldn’t be? This is the moment we’ve been hoping for, yet we’ve also been dreading it. We’re about to go head to head with Legion. And even at this very second, I’m not certain if we’re running off to kill him or save him.
Still, there’s more than our broken hearts at stake here. Gabriella, the Dark Queen, is not only in danger of being murdered by The Many, but she’s also at risk of being activated as War, the Red Rider. And considering the devastation unintentionally inflicted on Europe, New Orleans will surely be wiped off the map, no doubt taking surrounding cities with it. Millions will die, and they wouldn’t even see it coming.
“If this was the woman you loved,” I begin, hoping to reason with him. “If this was your wife and your unborn child, wouldn’t you want to be there? Wouldn’t you do everything in your power to save her, to encourage her to stay strong, and keep fighting? When everything seems hopeless, we need our family. Gabriella needs her family. And they need her. Don’t take this away from them.”
He blinks, and I can’t even be sure he’s heard me until he responds, “Give me two minutes.”
He exits my room, leaving me to finish getting ready for battle. And in the span of that time, the nerves set in.
We’re going to see him. I’m going to come face to face with the demon I had surrendered my heart and body to, only to have him stolen away from me in the middle of the night. I thought I was prepared for this, but am I? Can I be the one to sink a dagger into his heart? Can I sacrifice myself so that he may live?
As promised, Lucifer returns minutes later with Niko on his heels, both of them fully dressed and ready.
“The Se7en are downstairs,” he states.
“Dorian is down there with Alexander and Lars,” Niko states. His eyes are wild and pale with anticipation. “We’ll take them to the cemetery. We don’t have time to waste in a car.” Then before I can even greet him, he disintegrates into wisps of dark grey smoke.
“Ready?” Lucifer asks me, extending a palm.
I look down at his hand, briefly wondering if I truly am. Then I intertwine my fingers with his.
“Let’s do it.”
Defying space and time and traveling through pockets of darkness with Lucifer is different than it was with Niko or even Gabriella. There’s a warmth in his power that’s almost familiar, and I find that it’s not so much him pulling me, it’s us propelling through invisible tunnels of magic together, as equals.
When we arrive outside the gates of the cemetery, four of the Se7en, Dorian, Niko, Alexander, and the Light Enchanter, Lars, are already there, each of them wearing varied faces of determination and fury. Although I know they must be upset with me, I go up to Lilith and Andras and embrace them.
“I’m so sorry about Jinn,” I murmur, hoping they can feel my sincerity. I turn to Lilith. “Did they tell you? About…Pestilence?”
The beautiful, svelte blonde assassin nods just once, her blue eyes tinged with shame. “They did.” She begins to shake her head. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to do any of it.”
Before I can stop myself, I hug her again. I know we don’t have time for this, nor is this the place, but I want her to know that she’s not alone in this. This isn’t her fault. And if she goes down, she’ll have three sisters holding her hand and pulling her back up.
“You hear that?” Cain asks the group. He’s dressed much like the other members of the Se7en: black leather pants, black jacket, and more weapons than I can count.
I pull away from Lilith and look around, seeing nothing but night surrounding us. “What?”
“Silence. Dead silence,” he answers.
He’s right. There’s no music flitting from the various bars and restaurants. No laughter and jovial singing from their patrons. Not even so much as a car’s engine. The city is sleeping. No. Not sleeping. The city is dying.
“There’s evil here,” Dorian states, stepping up, his blue eyes bright as his mystical gaze cuts through the darkness. He, along with the other warlocks, is dressed in a full-length wool coat and slacks. No weapons. They don’t need them.
“Eyes open,” Lucifer commands, coming to stand beside me. “It’s a trick.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m the one who taught them how to do it.”
“We’re going in,” Dorian dares. “With or without you.”
“Then you’ll be playing right into their hands.”
“My wife is in there,” he urges. “I can feel her. Her magic is waning and she needs me. I won’t stand out here like a coward when I know she’s in danger.”
“He’s right,” Toyol agrees. There’s some type of scope fixed to his eye. “We don’t go in, she’s as good as dead. I can smell her blood.”
Dorian’s expression crumples to one of agony, but it only lasts a second before he replaces his mask of determined rage.
“Fine. But know that there are dozens of demons beyond this gate,” Lucifer explains. “And they aren’t merely low-level skin walkers. They’re here for a fight.”
Niko takes his brother’s flank. “Then we’ll give them one.”
We all exchange tense glances before Cain signals us forward. Lilith and Andras automatically step up to my right and left. Cain leads with Toyol a step behind. After them, the warlocks approach the gate, each of them crouched in catlike stances that seem almost elegant compared to the demons that rely more on brute strength and firepower. Lilith nudges us forward after them.
“Are you sure you want to do this again?”
I nod then whisper, “You’re not the only one with blood on her hands. I can’t take back what I’ve done and what I’m fated to do, but I can try like hell to make this right.”
We advance forward, weapons drawn. Although I can’t see him, I know Lucifer is right behind me, watching my every step and counting every racing heartbeat. I’m surprised he isn’t taking lead on this, especially since he knows demons better than anyone. But he also isn’t thrilled about this plan. A big part of me is curious as to why. There are ten of us, and most are the deadliest creatures on the planet. There has to be another reason why he’s so hesitant. This is the crack in the case that we’ve been dying for. And while, yes, it’s more sudden than we’d like, we couldn’t exactly expect Legion to send an invitation in the mail.
We decide to stay together versus breaking into teams, which is smart, considering we have no clue what could be waiting for us. We weren’t prepared in Chicago, and we’re even less prepared now, especially since the Se7en have been nearly cut in half. Also, other than Niko and Lucifer, not many of us know the lay of the land when it comes to New Orleans. Add in that this is Voodoo witch territory, and we’re all pretty much going in blind.
Cain silently points into the darkness then turns to nod at Dorian. From there, the warlocks take the lead, and Cain and Toyol fall back.
“They’ve caught her scent,” Andras whispers out of the corner of his mouth, keeping his stare focused ahead.
Her scent.
I haven’t wanted to think about it, but the smell of blood in the air has gotten stronger since we passed the cemetery gates. Which means Gabriella is in serious trouble. Or we’re already too late.
Someone grabs my arm from behind, and in any other situation, I would have shrieked loud enough to wake the dead, or punched first and asked questions later. But I know upon contact that it’s Lucifer, pulling me back.
“Stay calm,” he breathes into my ear.
I turn to face him to find that his eyes are bright, glowing orbs of swirling violet and obsidian. I don’t even have time to ask him what he means by his warning before the first shout sounds from ahead.
A blood-curdling snarl.
A flash of blinding light.
An electric blue current of undiluted magic.
And then…anarchy.
It all happens so fast that I don’t even get a round off before Lucifer spins, positioning me behind him. He flings his power out, and I only hear the sickening sound of bones breaking and tendon ripping. There are screams, but I can’t tell if they’re coming from our group or whatever is out there attacking us. I can’t see. Fuck. Even when I push out my enhanced Nephilim sight, I can’t see where the threat is coming from. It’s as if our attackers are everywhere and nowhere, practically invisible until they’re right on top of us.
I try to maneuver around Lucifer to join the fight, but he pushes me back once again before forcing out another assault of sinister power. The distinct sounds of tearing flesh and gurgling blood quickly follow after, and I catch a glimpse of a dozen or so disemboweled bodies just feet away from us. I turn to look ahead where the Dark are battling a horde of approaching demons and see even more mangled corpses. Gunshots ring out like fireworks, the empty shells and sprays of blood raining down around me like dying metallic sparklers.
The carnage calls out to me, taunting me, seducing me. It slithers over my body and vibrates in my veins, a violent, hypnotic war drum. I am utterly beguiled by its rhythm as it draws me in. The farther I inch towards it, the less of me there is. I am not lost. It’s like the more it engulfs of me, the more I disappear completely, as if I never even existed. Its pulse becomes my pulse, and its limbs become my limbs. We are not just bonded by bloodshed. We are one in it. It is inside me because it is me.
Death.
This is Death.
I am Death.
“Fall back! Now!”
Cain’s gruff command shakes me from Death’s enchantment, and it hurriedly slinks away. However, I can still feel it…can still see it hiding within the dark corners of my very being. Waiting. Watching. Plotting how to lure me to towards it once again.
My back is slammed into a crumbling tomb yards away from where we just were. I look up to find Lucifer’s blood speckled face and bright purple gaze wild with fresh kills.