Fallen Reign (Se7en Sinners Book 4)

  “Oh my God,” I utter, touching my hand to my lips. “Oh my God.”

  I look to Lucifer, but he’s still staring at the screen, unblinking, as if he’s in a trance.

  An older man cries out, “My boy is over there!”

  A woman is on her knees, weeping and praying. Her daughter is in the Army, stationed in Germany with her husband and three children.

  Several people pull out cell phones, frantically trying to reach their loved ones. Others are terrified at what this attack could mean.

  “It’s only a matter of time before those missiles make their way over here,” one man says.

  “What is the government doing to stop this? How could they let this happen?” a woman worries, clutching the crying infant in her arms.

  Panic is already erupting on the streets as hordes of people run to shops and stores in search of supplies. A few less exemplary citizens have allowed fear to take the reins and grab bottled water and food from behind the café counter.

  I don’t want to look at the images flashing on the screen, but I can’t help it. Plumes of black smoke and scattered debris. Ash rains down from the heavens. That’s all that’s left. In one breath, a family could have been sitting down to dinner, prattling on about their day. In the next, they were blown to dust. They didn’t even see it coming.

  “Luc,” I rasp, lips quivering. “Luc, what’s happening? What is this?”

  Nothing. It’s like he isn’t even here.

  I grab his broad shoulders and shake him, my own fear bubbling to the surface. “Lucifer, answer me! What’s going on?”

  His gaze is unfocused, and he’s as still as stone, but he finally utters, “War.”

  There’s an infectious sense of distress in the air as we make our way back to The Saint. Word has gotten out, and people are understandably distraught and scared. There were so many questions.

  What country launched the missiles?

  Were they taking aim at the US next?

  Did our military have the resources to retaliate?

  Friends and family of overseas troops weep in the streets, scrambling to get through to them by phone, but all lines are busy. There are lines out the door of people trying to buy food and water, and by the looks of it, the shelves are already sparse. Pestilence and his deadly flu strain are terrifying enough. But War…this is unimaginable. And I’m almost certain it’s just the beginning.

  “Can’t something be done?” I ask once we’re in the suite. Lucifer goes straight for the freshly stocked mini bar.

  “No. Not without consequence.”

  “More severe than this?” I flick a hand towards the window where the cries of the panicked can still be heard, despite it being closed.

  “Exponentially.”

  I shake my head. I refuse to believe that we’re just expected to roll over and take it. Only two of the Horsemen have been released, and already thousands have died. If they can inflict this much damage in a matter of days, what more could the other two do?

  “I’ve got it under control,” Lucifer mutters, although the words aren’t reflected on his face.

  “I should hope so. I mean…I’m not Team Satan, but you are the ruler of Hell. Your power is limitless.”

  “Down there.”

  “What?”

  “Down there, I am all powerful,” he explains before taking a swig of scotch. “Earth is God’s realm. If I had boundless power here, why would I need the Called to do my bidding?”

  And it hits me.

  “The Called. Can’t you activate them to—I don’t know—search for Legion? Or maybe even the Horsemen? You once used them to bring pain and misery to humanity. Can’t you use them for good?”

  “I did away with the Called, remember? Per our deal. My bargains are absolute.”

  “Well…undo it. Or, let’s make another deal.” I hold out my hand for him to shake.

  He looks down at my outstretched palm yet doesn’t take it. “You realize that if I undo this deal, you also will be under the influence of the Calling.”

  “I don’t care. Just as long as you can turn this around. No human is inherently evil. I know we are all born in sin, but just because someone does horrible things, it doesn’t necessarily make them a horrible person.”

  Lucifer dips his head to one side, a slight frown above his eyes. “You truly believe that, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I nod, meaning it.

  He sets down his glass and reaches out to fit his palm in mine. But just as our fingertips touch, a deafening crack of thunder sounds and the ground quakes under our feet. A wicked wind sweeps through the room with all the force of a hurricane. I stumble over to hold onto the back of the couch, struggling to keep myself upright, but it’s no use. Paintings fall from the walls. Glasses and decorative pieces shatter to the ground. Bits of plaster rain down from the ceiling and onto our hair and clothing.

  And then comes the noise.

  It’s like a cross between a screech and whistle, so high pitched that whatever glass didn’t break from the quake now explodes into dust. I cover my ears and sink to the floor, but I can’t muffle it. It’s in my head, pulverizing my brain.

  Lucifer just stands there, blank-faced, not at all fazed that he’s being jostled like a rag doll. It’s as if he knows exactly what this is, and he’s mentally preparing.

  I feel like I may pass out. But just before my eyelids shutter, it all stops.

  And there’s a knock at the door.

  On shaky legs, I climb to my feet and reach down for the knife secured on my calf.

  “That will be useless,” Lucifer seethes. He’s angry, and there’s tension in his gait as he makes his way to the door. I follow closely behind, ignoring the warning.

  He sucks in an aggravated breath, and instructs, “Say nothing unless addressed.” Then as if a switch has been flipped, he pastes a bright smile on his face and opens the door.

  But it’s not the hallway on the other side. It’s another room, the same floorplan as The Lucifer Suite and just as luxurious, yet completely opposite. It’s draped in white fabrics, white marble, sky blue walls, and gold accents. If our suite was modeled after Lucifer, then this suite must represent…

  “Michael,” Lucifer drawls.

  I don’t see him at first, and I’m sure he wasn’t even there five seconds ago. But there’s a man lounging on the winter white couch, dressed in a casual off-white suit grinning at us. His hair is like the brightest rays of sunlight and his eyes are as blue as a clear, summer sky. He waves us over to join him, so I look to Lucifer for confirmation. He nods rigidly and his jaw flexes.

  “Come now,” Michael croons.

  We cross the threshold at the same time, and the moment my foot grazes the pristine carpet, the knife in my hand disappears.

  “There is no need for that here. You are safe, child.”

  He’s the archangel Michael, a beautiful, virtuous creature. And I still don’t trust him one bit.

  “You make quite the entrance, brother,” Lucifer comments, taking the loveseat across from Michael. I follow suit.

  “Such a far journey. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate the showmanship, Lucifer.” Michael smiles, and his straight, white teeth are so bright they’re almost blinding.

  “I hope you didn’t make the trip for me. Wouldn’t want you to trouble yourself,” Lucifer muses. He’s laying it on thick, something he does for no one, except for Irin.

  “Oh, Lucifer. Always so coy. Of course, I’m here to see you. You’ve been very busy. I thought it best for us to have a chat.”

  Lucifer chuckles. “A chat? Surely you’re aware of human technology. You could’ve texted. They even have an angel emoji just for you.”

  “Yes, yes. But this is a conversation best had in person, don’t you agree?”

  Lucifer almost snorts. “So what have I done to deserve to be graced with your presence, Michael?” Translation: What the fuck are you doing here?

  “You don’t call. You don’t w
rite. I was beginning to get worried.”

  “Well, please excuse my lack of correspondence. I’ve been a bit preoccupied defending humanity from Uriel’s quest for revenge. I assume you’re aware of our brother’s latest deeds.” A challenge wrapped in sickening graciousness.

  Michael purses his lips just slightly. He heard it too. “I am. And he will be dealt with accordingly.”

  “So it’s true then,” Lucifer replies, his voice flat. “He still lives.”

  Michael’s smile widens. “For now. Actually, I’m here about another, more pressing matter.”

  “Oh? Must be serious to earn your time and attention.”

  “It is of import, yes,” Michael nods. “But you know that, don’t you. Which is why you’re here and not in Hell where I left you.”

  Lucifer heaves a sigh. He won’t get out of this, meaning I won’t get out of this. Whatever this is.

  Michael gracefully folds his hands in front of him. “Now…the issue of Legion being unleashed. Definitely not a great look for Father. I thought we discussed this centuries ago.”

  “We did, and I handled it. Just like I’m handling this,” Lucifer insists.

  “So much rage in our brother…such a shame. I don’t need to remind you what will happen if you fail to cage your animal.”

  My fists tighten in my lap, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying something stupid.

  “As I said, I’m dealing with it. You have my word.”

  “Excellent!” Michael beams, clapping his hands together. “And what is this I’m hearing about the Horsemen? It has to be a silly rumor, correct?”

  “I’m also dealing with that matter.”

  Michael tsks. “You seem to have your hands full, Lucifer. What with your demons roaming freely on Earth. Father will not be pleased. And as you know, if you can’t handle your own affairs, I will be forced to handle them for you. You understand, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. I hoped you would be agreeable,” Michael nods. “Which is why I’m extending a bit of mercy. You have seven days. Get your dog on a leash, strike down the Horsemen, or I will have no choice but to put an end to all of it. And we all know what that means.”

  Lucifer’s warning forgotten, I blurt out, “And what exactly does that mean?”

  Lucifer releases a low hiss as Michael’s peculiar blue gaze falls on me. Up until now, he had pretended I wasn’t even here. Now he gives me the full force of his attention, and it’s jarring. I can’t look directly at him for fear of my eyes burning from their sockets. I try to turn away, but I’m locked in place, helpless to his ethereal beauty and immense power.

  “It means, dear girl, that I will lay waste to any and all things that are not of God. The one you call Legion, the Se7en, demons, and even you and all other Nephilim abominations shall be cleansed from this world. We shall scrub it clean, and I guarantee, our methods are effective.”

  “We?”

  Lucifer turns to me and chimes in before his brother can answer. “Michael is the commander of all God’s armies.”

  “And the one responsible for sending Lucifer and our brothers to Hell,” Michael tacks on matter-of-factly.

  He crosses a leg over his knee with an air of elegance. A soft smile caresses his face as if he isn’t casually discussing our deaths like he’s relaying dinner plans. “You understand, don’t you? Why it needs to be done. Humans are incapable of saving themselves from their own demise. They engage in risky behaviors with zeal, throwing caution to the wind and blatantly ignoring the tenets that we’ve set forth for their survival. God gave them the Earth, yet they arrogantly destroy it. He gave them life, yet they poison themselves with drink and artificial substances. God gave them absolutely everything, yet it’s still not enough. They lie, they steal, they cheat, they fornicate. They kill as if human existence is meaningless.

  “We’ve let your kind carry on like this—like infants—for far too long. And now that the darkest of all evils is at risk of destroying everything we’ve worked to preserve, it’s more evident than ever that our assistance is needed.”

  “But didn’t God also give us free will?” I question, knowing full well that I’m testing the limits. “Isn’t that why we were given brains so we can think and choose for ourselves?”

  “He did,” Michael replies, his tone clipped. “And you all continue to choose wrong.”

  “I assure you, Michael,” Lucifer begins, drawing the attention to him and away from me. “They know the error of their ways. And if they fail to repent, I’ll only be too happy to punish them.”

  “I’m sure you will, brother. But who will be there to punish you for your insolence? You were given your place, and you allowed your subjects to run free. What does that say about your leadership? Or shall I say, lack of leadership? Disappointing.”

  Lucifer doesn’t respond, yet I can feel the intense heat of his silent seething. He’s like a child being chastised at the principal’s office. No one does this to him. No one. Yet, here he sits, allowing Michael to insult and belittle him.

  I can’t sit here and let him degrade Lucifer. Even if he is the Devil.

  “It’s not his fault. None of it is. Humans didn’t choose to be created this way. I didn’t choose to be conceived by an angel with a score to settle. And Lucifer didn’t choose for someone to rip the gates off Hell. If you want to blame anyone, blame Uriel. He’s responsible for all of this. We’re merely trying to undo the damage that’s been done and avoid further suffering. Yet, we should be punished for it?”

  “To be frank, you should be punished for existing,” Michael scolds.

  “And why is that?” I don’t even have the patience to keep the irritation out of my tone.

  “Because you are an insult to God. The breath in your lungs and the blood in your veins are an affliction to humanity. You should have never been born.”

  “And I didn’t ask to be!” I snap.

  “True,” Michael replies, a condescending smirk on his pretty face. “But if a mistake is made, would you ignore it, hoping that it would right itself? Or would you ensure it was corrected?”

  I don’t reply. I can’t. I’m too angry, too hurt to even try to plead my case. And he hasn’t earned the right to have me beg for my life.

  I thought he would be different. I wanted to believe that Uriel was the exception and not the rule. But here I am again, being mocked and ridiculed by yet another asshole angel.

  “The clock starts now,” Michael announces dismissively. “Good luck.”

  I’m up and sprinting to the door before Lucifer even leaves his seat. He murmurs something to Michael in a hushed voice, in a language I don’t understand. Michael laughs heartily before replying. I don’t have time for this bullshit. I have nothing left to say.

  When I yank open the door, we’re somehow transported back to our hotel suite, and the sun has already tucked itself beyond the horizon. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s nearly midnight. There’s no way…it felt like we were only gone for twenty minutes. The damage that Michael’s arrival caused is no longer evident. Not even a shard of glass or a speck of chipped paint. Like he wasn’t even here.

  “Can you believe that jackass?” I huff. Now it’s my turn to hit the mini bar.

  “That was actually mild Michael,” Lucifer comments, sitting on the couch. “He’s multifaceted. There’s self-righteous Michael, spiteful Michael, brown-nosing Michael, pompous Michael, and of course, massive dick Michael. Consider yourself lucky.”

  He taps a finger against his chin as if he’s deep in thought. I simply watch as the wheels turn in his head, hoping and praying that he has a plan that will get us out of this mess. We have a week. A week. Seven days to find Legion, eradicate The Many, put the demons back in their cage, oh, and stop the remaining two Horsemen from activating and starting the apocalypse. Fun times.

  “I get it, you know,” Lucifer says quietly. “We have royally fucked up. I have royally fucked up. I got distracted.
No, fuck that—I got sloppy. I let my fixation with manipulating mankind make me soft. I knew Stavros was hungry for power, but I never thought he had the balls to go against me. And if he had some sort of secret allegiance with Uriel this entire time, I should have known about it. I should have known. Just like I should have known that Uriel would go off the rails out of revenge. Just like I should have known that my pissant demons were conspiring against me. Just like I should have known that Legion wasn’t strong enough to fight The Many alone. So yeah, I get why Michael feels the need to intervene. I became the very thing I had ridiculed Legion for. And now I must pay the price.”

  “But you can’t actually agree that we should all die over something no one knew was happening, can you?” I take the seat across from him and lean forward, my elbows on my knees.

  “Someone has to pay the price, Eden.” He looks at me, his expression unreadable. “My only regret is that I didn’t kill you when I had the chance.”

  My back straightens. “What?”

  “What kind of life did I doom you to? Death would have been a kindness. Look around you. Can you honestly say you’d rather live in chaos than die a peaceful death before you even took your first breath?”

  I don’t know what to say to that, but I know he doesn’t mean it. Michael has gotten into his head. Sure, Lucifer can be a first-class prick, but he’s changing. He’s evolving. That has to count for something.

  “You don’t mean that,” I say just above a whisper.

  His voice is ice sliding up my spine. “Yes, I do. And if I had the chance to do it all again, I would have.”

  Without another word, he stands and makes his way to his bedroom, leaving me in speechless dejection.

  Lucifer would kill me if he could go back to when I was just a fetus. And as much as I don’t want that to be true, I believe him. He would have done it. And maybe he still wants to.

  I head to my own sleeping quarters, if only to escape this day. War has been unleashed, Michael has given us an expiration date, and Lucifer has admitted that he wishes I were never born.