by Eve Langlais
Muriel groaned. “Why me?”
To which her husbands, all four of them, laughed and said, “Because you’re Lucifer’s daughter.”
Which seemed to be explanation enough.
Of course, with that many Baphomets gathered in one spot, it wasn’t hard to predict that things would happen. Things always did around those who were special. And Bambi didn’t mean the kind of special that licked the pavement and growled at the neighbors.
Lucifer’s family drew attention. Usually from the cops, who got calls of weird shit happening, but it also drew the attention of cryptids and supernaturals.
As the music played—Justin Bieber hits because Lucinda had a crush—and the beer flowed—because it took alcohol to tolerate family parties—Bambi noticed one guest who’d yet to make an appearance in the yard.
Where had Charlie and his date gone?
The moment she entered the house, the knot in her stomach got bigger. Especially when she saw him at the front door with his little Asian companion. A door that was wide-open so he could greet the people coming in.
Allowing Isobel’s mother to enter along with Rasputin was fine, but those following?
What had Charlie done? Bambi opened her mouth to yell a warning.
Only she never managed to give it. A hand slapped over her mouth, a strong one covered in a rusty red glove. The aroma of a man who lived in his armor surrounded her, musky and enticing, almost as sexy as the gravelly voice against her ear that said, “Make not a sound, my lady. I would hate to bind your sweet flesh.”
With such a tempting offer, Bambi shoved against War, then turned on him with a bright gaze—hard nipples and a wet pussy—and hollered, “We have party crashers.” Then she held out her wrists and said, “Cuff me, hot stuff.”
23
Chris could have sworn he’d heard his sister yell something about visitors.
The more, the merrier.
With a warm buzz flowing through him, he even managed a smile when his old buddy War—who had tried to kill him and failed back in the good ol’ days—stepped into the tent, Bambi clinging to his arm.
“War! Dude. Long time no see.” He waved; however, everyone else kind of stopped what they were doing to stare. Understandable. War thrived on violence. But Chris was happy to see him anyway. Blame the beer for making him nostalgic.
However, not everyone seemed happy that War had decided to crash the party. Bodies moved. Lucinda was shuffled behind two of her daddies. Muriel drew a cool, flaming sword. David was no longer David, but a giant kitty, and Teivel suddenly looked a lot bigger and menacing. And did those fangs in his mouth get longer?
As for Lucifer? He jabbed a finger in War’s direction, and said, “You! Thanks for all your murderous efforts lately. Finally gave me the push I needed to retire.”
Which reminded Chris… “You.” He jabbed his own finger. “Would you stop it with the battles and killing already? You’re burying me in paperwork.”
War didn’t reply, simply stiffened as he stepped aside, allowing Isobel’s mother and grandfather to enter. Followed by—
“Daddy!” Isobel screamed as she launched herself at the distinguished gent accompanying them.
Daddy? What the fuck was happening? Last time Chris had seen Thomas, he’d been a motionless corpse on an altar, his spirit holding the remaining seal on Morgana’s prison shut. Since the slab was empty, and his mother had escaped, Chris had assumed the man dead. Yet here he was, looking rather hale and hearty.
As Isobel’s family poured into the tent, the other horsemen arrived. Pestilence appeared especially festive in her yellow hazmat suit. Death had on a fresh cowl, and Famine looked rather well fed in his white suit and brown loafers with no socks.
Not exactly the kind of guests you wanted to see at a kid’s birthday. No wonder Muriel and her hubbies appeared pissed.
It was Isobel’s dad who held up his hands when Muriel stalked close and aimed her sword. “Everyone hold off before attacking. This isn’t what you think.”
Muriel refused to put away her sword. “You’re crashing my kid’s party.”
“We’re here to help,” said Chris’s father-in-law, spreading his hands in a gesture of peace.
“Help by bringing the horsemen of the apocalypse?” Isobel backed away until she stood by Chris’s side, a crease between her brows. “I don’t understand, Papa. Where have you been? Why are you here? And why are you here with them?”
Nefertiti, who arrived at that moment, carrying a Jell-O ring, was the one to answer. “It’s the day of the apocalypse. And everyone’s invited.”
“Today! Are you fucking kidding me?” Muriel snapped, turning her head too many degrees to bark at the witch. “One afternoon. That’s all I freaking wanted. One afternoon to celebrate my darling little girl.”
“Did you really expect her to have a mundane party? As stupid as your mother.” This spoken by the one person capable of making Chris groan.
“Who is that?” Muriel yelled.
“My mother,” said Chris with a sigh. So much for getting out of the castle and relaxing.
At the sign of the first tear in the side of the tent, and daylight spilling in, Muriel screamed. “Teivel, get out of here. Take Lucinda with you. Get yourselves to the vault.”
Her fanged hubby scooped up the little girl, who pouted. “But I want to stay and watch!”
To which Muriel snarled, “You will go with him. Now, young lady.”
“You’re no fun. I hate you,” squealed her daughter, still looking cute.
Muriel hollered at Auric. “Do something about your kid.”
“Little busy right now,” he claimed, sword in hand, facing the bulging walls.
“Great, make me be the bad parent again. Go. Now. Or there will be no cake!” Muriel ordered, pointing her sword toward the house.
With her lower lip still jutting, Lucinda left with Teivel, escaping to the relative safety of the house. Which was better than being out in the yard with the bulging walls of the tent.
When Chris spotted the first decayed hand poking through the canvas, he knew Mother hadn’t crashed the party alone.
“Mother!” he bellowed. “You weren’t invited.”
As if speaking to her was the sign she’d awaited, the side of the tent ripped open large enough for Morgana to saunter in, an army of the dead at her back.
Mother stopped and surveyed them, hands empty, but then again, who needed a weapon when you could call magic? She looked rather lovely, too, dressed in battle armor, but a kind made for a lady.
Her red gown was overlain with a thick metal corset, her arms encased in onyx metal guards. She even wore a helmet with a nose guard, which drew attention to the bottomless pits of her eyes.
Muriel stood facing her, flaming sword in hand.
“At last, we meet. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Muriel said.
His mother looked down her nose at his sister. “If it isn’t the other bastard child.”
“Actually,” Lucifer interjected, clearing his throat, “I did marry her mother. Damnable woman made an honest man of me.”
“What a shame she’ll soon be a widow.” Morgana’s gaze brooked no quarter.
“You are not murdering my daughter’s poppa on her birthday,” Muriel declared.
“Don’t you mean, ever, Muri?” Lucifer added.
“My quarrel isn’t with you, Daughter of the Earth. But I will have my vengeance against he who locked me away. But not today. Today, I am here for my son.”
“What now?” Chris groaned. “I told you I wanted nothing to do with you. Especially not after the stunt you pulled with Isobel. You almost killed her.”
“Almost. Since she is here alive and well, I obviously failed in my last attempt.”
“And it won’t happen again,” Thomas interjected. “We’ve had a talk, Morgana and I.”
“You’ve been talking to my mother-in-law?” Isobel rolled her eyes. “Seriously? And yet you couldn’t call me to say,
‘hey, baby girl, still alive.’”
“My fault.” Marya joined the conversation. “I was the one to release him from the crypt and then hid him until I could make him understand the true plan.”
“You mean you knew he was alive all this time?” A note of betrayal tinged her words. Isobel turned to her grandfather. “Did you know, too?”
Rasputin shrugged. “Yes. But I wasn’t aware Marya had released him. Last Christopher and I saw Thomas, he was still in the crypt.”
Oh, shit. Way to drag him into the mess. Eyes full of betrayal turned on him. “You knew, too! You lied to me!” Eyes flashing, Isobel stomped off.
He reached for her. “Let me explain.”
She slapped away his hand. “Don’t touch me right now. I need some space. And a bathroom.” Isobel left, and Lucifer chuckled.
“This party is even more interesting than I expected. Totally wishing I had a bucket of popcorn right about now.”
“Stuff it, you old goat. No one is interested in listening to you right now,” Chris snapped.
“Finally, my son comes to his senses,” Morgana crowed.
“You can shut it, too. I want to know why you’re here,” Chris demanded. Anything to stall having to chase his wife and grovel for forgiveness.
“Where else would I be?” Morgana tilted her head. “The battle is about to start.”
“I thought you said you weren’t here to fight,” Muriel stated.
“I am not here to fight you, or even your lecherous father. I’m here to support my son. To keep him on Hell’s throne.”
“Then who are you planning to fight? Because none of us want to take his spot,” Muriel replied, still not sheathing her sword.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to fight God and his heavenly host.”
Before anyone could laugh, the tent collapsed.
24
Isobel fled the party, escaped the people who’d betrayed her.
She brushed off her father, who said he wanted to explain. Explain what? How he’d let her believe he was dead?
She ignored her mother because she’d obviously known her dad was alive.
As for Grandfather, the last peek over her shoulder showed him sidling up to the Devil. Probably trying to find out if his previous deal for prime real estate on the Styx was still good.
Even Chris had let her down. He knew. I can’t believe he knew and lied to me.
The coolness of the air conditioning hit Isobel’s fevered skin the moment she entered the house, and once she slammed the door shut, the quiet surrounded her, as well. She needed a moment to herself to try and figure out what had happened and whom she should be mad at.
Everyone was on her shit list at the moment. Which meant she should take a step back, remove emotions from the equation, and look at why, why, and why?
Why was Daddy here? Why now? And what had Nefertiti meant when she said it was the day of the apocalypse? She’d brought dessert. Did that mean she expected it to happen later?
Did Isobel have time for a last-minute quickie with Chris?
Wait, I’m supposed to be mad at him. It bothered her that he’d hidden the truth about her dad from her. Then again, he seemed to think her dad wouldn’t be coming back. He didn’t fake the surprise when Papa appeared.
From inside the house, she heard Lucinda complaining. “I wanna go back outside. It’s my party!”
A low rumbled reply of, “Mommy said to stay inside where it’s safe,” resulted in a foot stomp that made the house tremble.
That little girl was going to be a handful. Would a child of hers and Chris’s also have too much power? How would they raise a kid without letting the power go to his or her head?
She just had to recall Chris and his arrogance when they’d first met to know that they’d have their work cut out for them. If they had kids.
The apocalypse was coming. She’d better pee while she had a chance. She’d been peeing a lot more the past few days. Must be Hell and all that dry heat. She’d probably been retaining more water than usual to combat it.
Washing her hands, feeling a little more relaxed, she emerged and squeaked as she came face-to-face with Charlie.
“Goodness,” she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her racing heart. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I was waiting for the right moment.”
“Moment for what?” she asked. “They were just about to slap the steaks on when I left.” And possibly get into a great big old brawl, given her daddy had brought the horsemen of the apocalypse.
“I didn’t come for the food. I came for you.”
She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“I love you, Isobel. I want you to come away with me. Now, before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean ‘too late?’ Don’t tell me you think the world is going to end today, too?”
Why wasn’t it on anyone’s calendar? She might have worn a different outfit if she’d known.
“The world is going to end. As is your husband’s short reign.”
“You are not killing my husband.”
“I’m not, although I will be taking his spot. Father says leading Hell is the perfect job for me, given my attitude. Sell a few weapons to infidels, and Dad says I’m breaking his rules,” Charlie complained.
“You can’t become King of Hell. The mantle can only go to a descendent of Lucifer’s.” That much was made clear when she and Chris had explored possibilities.
“I know all about the genetics behind ruling the Pit. Which is why you and I will marry. And I will be the regent.”
She blinked at his logic. “Marrying me if Chris is dead won’t mean you inherit.”
“I won’t through you, but the child in your belly will.”
Belly? She stared down, and her eyes widened in horror. “I’m pregnant!”
“Yes, which initially wasn’t my ideal scenario, but as Father pointed out, I need the child to become regent. So, it will all work out.”
“Except I want nothing to do with your plan. I don’t love you.”
“You will. I’m Jesus. Everyone loves me.” He gave his most engaging smile, but it lacked the leering of her husband’s. He also only had golden good looks rather than the dark and sexy appeal of her Antichrist lover.
Isobel angled her chin. “You need to leave. Now. Before I call for help.”
“I’m leaving, but not alone. You’re coming with me.” He grabbed hold of her.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She yanked her arm, which he held in a tight grip.
“Oh, yes you are. I can’t have you accidentally dying in the coming battle.”
“What battle?”
“The one between Heaven and Hell. Dad is going to be here any minute. I sent Lee back to Heaven with directions to the house. Did you know Lucifer had it hidden from Dad’s angels? I had to bring one here in person in order to forge a trail.”
“A trail for who? What did you do?” she asked.
“Just let Daddy know where the party was. Can you believe he wasn’t invited? Neither was I, for that matter. Rude, if you ask me. Good thing Chris let me know about it.”
“Wait, what? What does Chris have to do with it?”
“I told him we needed to trap his mother. The plan was he’d lure her here, and I’d let Dad know so he could handle Morgana.”
“What’s your dad going to do?” Pontificate? She’d heard Elyon was good at that.
“He’s going to cleanse the world of sin, starting with Morgana and her army of the dead.”
“But I thought Elyon didn’t care what happened on Earth.”
“Used to be he didn’t pay it much attention; however, he recently subscribed to a few social media channels and started watching current events. Noticed the rise of sin. How evil has spread everywhere. He’s decided it’s time to cleanse the world. To conduct another purge.”
Her eyes widened. “He’s going to cause another flood!”
Charlie’s
nose wrinkled. “Nope. Last time, some of the clever folks built an ark and escaped his punishment, which is why he has a better plan this time.”
Before she could ask about what that was, there came a series of knocks at the door.
“Look who’s here,” Charlie said as he opened the front door, revealing his fatherly deity in all his bearded glory. “Time for phase two of our plan.”
“A wondrous day for all mankind,” Elyon declared from the front stoop. “It is time, as the humans say, to cut the head off the snake.”
She had a feeling she knew who he thought the snake was. “Don’t you dare hurt my husband.” Or anyone else, for that matter.
But Elyon didn’t even acknowledge her words. Although he did cough something that sounded suspiciously like, “unclean whore.”
“I am married!” she retorted hotly as Charlie dragged her out the door, past his dad. She turned back to see God striding into Muriel’s house, a host of angels at his back, their wings tucked in tightly, their swords dangling by their sides. As shadows danced around her from overhead, she glanced up to see a flock of angels—hundreds, thousands maybe—filling the skies. Unbeknownst to those in the tent.
“You’re going to let him massacre everyone,” she exclaimed.
“It’s the only way to eradicate sin. Don’t worry. You’ll be safe.”
But she didn’t want to be safe. She wanted her husband. Only Charlie wouldn’t let her go. And her magic wasn’t responding. Which meant she got stuffed into a chariot drawn by four white, winged horses.
Only once they were aloft did she notice the second army gathered below, the stain of their dead bodies a blight on the land.
And Chris was caught between them.
25
The tent collapsed, but with so many magic users gathered in one place, instead of being buried under yards of tarp, the fabric turned into ash, which meant that Chris could clearly see they were totally fucked.
