But in the end, the results had been the same, deliberate or not.
"Huh?" the redhead grunted, cocking her head as she stared at Gabriel, her hazel eyes clouded in confusion.
"We're...half brothers...same Father," Gabriel said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat under the human's attention. Usually he was able to come and go from this plane of existence unnoticed. The mortal's scrutiny was jarring, to say the least. Plus, he couldn't...wouldn't…lie. And his words were entirely true. Whether Lucifer would admit it or not, they did still share the same Holy Father.
"I see!" Kimmy nodded eagerly, willing to accept any explanation from these scrumptious men. Eye candy was an understatement, she thought looking between them again. "Maybe I can corral you into giving me this one's name," she said with a wink at the Archangel while she jerked her head toward the Devil. "He's a mite dicey when it comes to givin' it out."
"I..." Gabriel floundered, darting a look toward Satan.
Gleefully enjoying Gabriel's discomfiture, Satan settled Kimmy against him, openly fondling her assets before God's dutiful angel. "Oh, I've told you, pet, I've many names," his hypnotic voice crooned as he leaned forward to lick her ear. "My given name is Lucifer, but some call me Devil. Others call me Satan. I've been known as Mephistopheles, Beelzebub, The Great Deceiver, The Prince of Darkness..."
"Samael!" Gabriel barked as his spine stiffened, his blue eyes flashing gold in the dim lamplight.
"That, too," Lucifer grinned mischievously, pointing a finger at Gabriel as Kimmy's head fell back against his shoulder, the power of his voice mesmerizing her.
"Enough," Gabriel hissed, forcing himself to smile at the clueless waitress. "He jests...I mean, he's joking," he amended, reminding himself that the vernacular had changed for this century.
"Am I?" Satan chuckled against Kimmy's ear.
Watching as the young woman shivered in Lucifer's arms, Gabriel inhaled deeply. Breathing was a necessity in this realm, after all. And shooting a lightning bolt from his fingertips to quell his old comrade's incessant jabber would be in complete defiance of The One's express order to fly below the radar. It was already bad enough that he'd have to sweep the mind of this innocent child of God of the events of this evening before he left. He abhorred altering a human's memories...it simply seemed so invasive. "Kimmy, if you'll excuse us, my brother," he said as pleasantly as possible, almost choking on the word, "and I still have some things to discuss," he continued, giving the young lady a gentle mental push toward the bar.
Blinking, Kimmy's clouded thoughts slowly came into focus. "I...oh, yeah." She nodded, sliding off Satan's lap. "What can I get ya'll to drink tonight?" she asked, turning her gaze back toward her sometimes lover.
"Hmmm, whatever do I feel like?" the Devil asked, tapping his forefinger to his lips as he saw Gabriel stifle the urge to lunge at him from the corner of his eye. It had always been so easy to yank his chain...even in the old days. "I think I'll stick with my usual, my darling."
Kimmy bobbed her head obediently. "Dirty martini, it is."
"You do remember how dirty I like it, don't you?" Satan asked, wiggling his brows suggestively.
"Samael," Gabriel warned under his breath, his consternation growing by leaps and bounds.
Grinning unrepentantly, the Devil jerked his head toward Gabriel. "He'll have water. Holy, if you have it. With a twist."
"God forgive me," Gabriel muttered aloud, his fingers itching to release a wave of painful energy on the annoying demon in front of him. But again, he reminded himself at the last moment that such an event would draw attention…which was the exact opposite of his orders.
"He won't and you know it," Satan snorted to the Angel, keeping his eyes on Kimmy. "And bring your customer at the bar another scotch, pet. He looks like he needs it," he said, allowing his gaze to drift toward a slumped and defeated Matthew Hunter. "In fact, just keep his glass full," he told her, his eyes glimmering evilly as he calculated the odds of a success tonight.
Following Lucifer’s gaze, Gabriel frowned. His poor charge was huddled over his glass. He looked singularly miserable. It wasn’t as though the disillusioned man did not have his reasons. Matthew Hunter had many reasons, all of them genuine, to feel the way he did this evening. He was an excellent FBI agent, but his job had worn on his soul. And the Devil’s temptation this eve might just have irreparable repercussions if allowed to occur. That was why he was present. It was The One’s directive that no harm of any kind come to Matthew and the team of six other men and women that worked by his side. Shifting his gaze back to the fragile human still talking with Lucifer, he sighed.
"Ignore him," Gabriel ordered the waitress authoritatively, easily contradicting Lucifer's prior order with another mental push, this one stronger than the last. "I think your customer has had more than enough this evening. Serve him coffee."
"Now, Gabriel," the Devil chided with a hard look at his former sibling. "This is a bar. People come here to drown their sorrows."
"I'd like to drown you," Gabriel growled, his eyes narrowing with just the perfect amount of intensity. "Preferably in the Lake of Fire."
Offering both men a quizzical look, Kimmy shook her head. She might not be a rocket scientist, but she could definitely sense an undercurrent of tension running through the table. "I'll just get those drinks for y’all," she said, scurrying back to the bar, trying to shake the feeling that she'd been caught in the middle of an electrical storm.
"I hope you're proud of yourself. That poor girl is nearly daft from the way you've played with her mind," Gabriel admonished, tapping his long, narrow fingers against the tabletop.
"Newsflash, Gabe. I'm the Devil. I don't exactly have a warm, fuzzy center. More like cold and empty," Satan retorted as he shrugged. "But, to answer your question, I'm exceedingly proud of myself. But I'll be prouder still when I walk out of here with Matthew Hunter's soul. That will be my final coup de grace."
Chapter Four
Never missing a beat, Lucifer smoothly continued, his voice questioning, "Now, which of my names do you like best, Gabriel? Inquiring minds want to know," he chortled, leaning forward to prop his chin on his hand.
"At the moment, asshat fits you remarkably well," Gabriel retorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he faced the insolent fiend across from him.
"Tsk, tsk, Angel. Do you kiss your Daddy with that mouth?" Lucifer chided, his eyes glinting with evil glee as he relished the opportunity to twist the knife a bit harder.
"Lucifer," Gabriel said with a pained expression, narrowing his now-golden eyes, "let's get back to the discussion at hand. Matthew Hunter's soul is not up for sale. It never has been, despite your best efforts and it never will be. Leave him alone. Move on to sweeter hunting grounds."
"But I like these woods," the Devil said as he grinned. "So many to prey on," he added longingly, looking around the milling people in the bar.
Jaw clenching, Gabriel shook his head. "You really are a trial, Lucy," he said, dropping the nickname that Lucifer had been bestowed when they'd been mere children, playing on the acreage of the earthbound Eden with nary a care in the world. "Son of the Morningstar, my halo," he sneered, only to suddenly jerk.
Gasping as he felt a painful wave of heat radiate up his spine, Gabriel grimaced as he smelled burning...that fiend hadn't!
But apparently he had.
"Oh, look," Satan drawled with a false look of sympathy, wagging his fingers. "You're molting," he chuckled gleefully, leaning to the side to watch a small spray of fine feathers wafting to the hardwood floor behind a startled Gabriel.
"Blessed is the name of Our Lord!" Gabriel yelped, jumping from his seat to pat at his still stinging earthly back. Now this was well above the call of duty!
Pursing his lips, the Devil rolled his eyes. "For the love of God, Gabriel. Don't you ever just want to yell, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Son of a bitch! That hurt!"?" he asked curiously, watching as the Archangel glared at him, straightening his suit coat with a sharp flick
of his wrist before sliding back into the booth across from him.
"No, I certainly do not," Gabriel bit out, enunciating each word as he pursed his lips. "And your adolescent pranks are going to get us noticed if you don't cease and desist at once."
"I'm not the one that started calling names," Satan countered as he shrugged. Wagging a finger, the Devil chided, "Sticks and stones won't hurt me, Gabriel, but I'll make sure they injure you."
"Impossible infidel," Gabriel muttered as he let out a truly earthly sigh. Leveling Satan with a look filled with warning, he cautioned the Fallen One, "It would be imprudent to test me further, Samael. I grow weary of this farce."
"Ohhhhh! " The Devil shuddered dramatically as he pretended to cower in the corner of the booth. "I'm scared. What will you do, Gab-O? Shit a rainbow to teach me a lesson? Speaking of which," he said, cocking his head, "If Big Daddy wanted to pass a message to me, why send you? Why not send his personal Terminator?"
"Michael is occupied at the moment," Gabriel stated, lifting his chin defiantly, his earthly eyes flickering to the side once again, a wisp of air fluttering around them as he referenced the chief archangel of the heavenly host. "And aside from that, The One and I agreed that Michael wasn't exactly going to be seen as a negotiator by you. As I recall, the last time you two met, there was a twenty odd year war." Gabriel frowned. "Very messy business," he said distastefully, shaking his head.
"Yeah," the Devil intoned as he grinned slowly, his pearly whites gleaming in the lamplight. "Those were the days," he added longingly. "How's the boo boo on poor Mikey's face?" he asked ever so sweetly, remembering how smoothly the blade of his sword had slid across the Archangel's jaw, drawing the most deliciously red blood with its honed edge.
"Scarred," Gabriel informed him concisely, his eyes narrowing. "The Brethren consider it a badge of honor," he continued when Lucifer's eyes gleamed red in triumph.
"Do they?" Satan drawled, those obsidian depths of his eyes widening in mock surprise as he grinned cockily across the table.
"They do." Gabriel nodded gravely. "And Michael's face serves as a reminder as to what we all fight to protect."
"Blah, blah, blah," the Devil mocked in a bored voice, rolling his eyes as he slumped in the corner of the booth, stretching one leg out beside him. "Good triumphs over evil, yada, yada, yada. Except, did it, Gabriel? Look around you. I left Heaven with only a third of The One's legions and with that number, I've made this realm a veritable sin fest, free for all," he said smugly, waving his hand around to encompass the quickly filling bar. "Look at all that I am responsible for...my accomplishments...HBO...the internet...Congress," he added as he grinned wickedly. "Who really won the battle after all?"
Take that, you self-righteous so-called hand of God, Satan though arrogantly. When would The One's little groupies learn that he was every bit as powerful and majestic as the other deity? He'd sent plagues and pestilence to slaughter millions over the millennia and yet, they refused to recognize his will.
It was enough to give a lesser demon an inferiority complex.
"Yes, you're quite the little innovator," Gabriel agreed sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. "But, it always remains that the mortals have free will. They choose the light or the darkness, Lucifer," the angel reminded his counterpart softly. "And Matthew Hunter has not chosen you."
"I disagree," Satan retorted. "Based on what I saw reflected in the River Styx tonight, the soul of the man called Hunter is mine to claim. Or do you not suppose that executing a human in cold blood is a punishable offense? I do believe The One even had one of those so-called commandments about such that was clearly stated. Wasn't it "Thou shalt not kill,"?" Satan purred contentedly, smoothing his finger over the cool surface of the table as he spoke.
"It doesn't count, Lucifer," Gabriel replied grimly. How could this being, that had once held the ear of The One with rapt attention, have fallen so very far from grace? It was as though all they had been taught and raised to believe no longer existed. Abundant, boundless love had been replaced with cold anger and rage inside his brother's heart. And the downfall of man could clearly be laid at this creature's cloven feet. Disappointment and bitterness wafted from his body in waves strong enough to chill this human form he'd taken. And the violence...the utter brutality shining in his frigid eyes made him almost unrecognizable to him.
"Oh, I must protest," Satan opposed silkily as he turned to stare at the bar. "It always counts, my old friend. Always."
Chapter Five
"Listen to me, Lucifer," Gabriel began softly, leaning forward to tap the table for emphasis, "The One has given you wide berth to try to convert souls. He is, after all, the one that gave mortals the power of choice, even if that means they choose you over Him. But, Matthew Hunter's soul is off the menu. You want him for your own self-indulgent reasons and The Holy Father knows it. That makes the deal null and void."
"Excuse me?" Satan sneered, arching one brow into a perfect upturned vee. "What would you...any of you...assume that I have in common with a human?" he asked, spitting the last word as if it contained poison.
"He reminds you of someone you used to know, I'm guessing," Gabriel offered knowingly, his face remaining as neutral as before. "Yourself...before The Fall, that is. The mortal is full of pride and arrogance, but at heart, he wants to do that which is best. At his core, the truest part of him, he is a protector."
"That angel you think you knew once upon a time is gone forever, Gabriel," the Devil warned, his voice low and dangerous, his bony fingers bending inward.
"Why does it bother you so to remember who you once were, Brother?" Gabriel asked gently, his words simple but probing deeply to the core.
"Because that being was a fool, a blind lamb led to slaughter by our so-called Father," the adversary answered cruelly, enjoying the grimace of pain on the Archangel's face.
"Matthew Hunter isn't yours," Gabriel forced out, ignoring the pain in his heart that Lucifer's words inflicted. "You've tried for decades to win him...much as you've tried to win against The One before."
"Don't even get me started on that, Gabe," the Devil growled, the sting of past failure still smarting. Seriously, what did a fellow have to do to get ahead? Was it too much to ask that a few important souls be swayed to his way of thinking without a battle of epic proportions every single damn time?
"You tried with Job, too," Gabriel continued, sensing weakness and honing his words toward the target. "You deceived and tempted...and when that didn't work, you heaped everything but the Plague on his head. And yet, he stood firm. He did not renounce his Lord. He looked the Devil in the eye and the Devil lost."
Wrinkling his nose as he remembered that particular pain in his tailed ass, Satan fought the urge to cry foul even now. He'd thrown some of his best stuff at that pious paragon and...nada. Not even a flinch from God's precious little child. It still stuck in his craw after hundreds of years...time had not dulled that particular ache. He'd have accused the Holy Father of cheating except he knew He hadn't. It had been a fair game and the Big Guy had given him carte blanche on trials and tribulations. And yet, that righteous robot had stood tall…even as he had sat in ash cloth and listened to those foolish friends. "I thought angels didn't hit below the belt, Gabriel," the Devil grunted, his eyes refusing to meet the angel's.
"I've only spoken the truth and you know it," Gabriel replied evenly, watching Satan's face for some sign that he'd reconsider his current plan. Of course, Lucifer had never been known for making things easy. On anyone. Least of all, Gabriel acknowledged sadly, himself.
"But have you not heard the saying, "The devil will always have his due," Brother?" Satan queried lightly, his dark eyes gleaming triumphantly as he jerked his head upright, his spine once again stiffening. "He," he said, pointing toward the slumped older man at the bar, "Is my due. You should have let me have Job if you didn't want me to choose another sheep from the pen."
"He's a good man, Lucifer," Gabriel hissed for the countless time that eve
ning. "No matter what you've set before him, he stayed in the light."
"He was good. Until he was very, very bad," Satan drawled, a wicked smile playing at his lips as he wriggled his brows. "Before this afternoon, I agree, I was beginning to develop a complex. But he did me proud in the end."
"Did he?" Gabriel smiled in return, the beauty of his face nearly blinding even Satan. "The man in question was a pedophile, Lucifer. He'd killed over twenty children...twenty innocent souls. Stolen. By our future tally, had Matthew not acted, he would have taken well over a hundred."
"Math aside, that doesn't change the fact that your precious little ray of sunshine committed a sin. Broke a commandment...Your God's law. A deal is a deal.” Satan shrugged, leaning his head back against the booth, his eyes glowing with the thrill only victory could bring.
"You got the pedophile's soul," Gabriel pointed out needlessly, searching for some road to compromise. The One had specifically instructed him to guard Matthew Hunter's soul against the wicked. He would not fail his Father.
"I did," the Devil agreed as he nodded grimly. "But one soul is not nearly so good as another...not in my realm. The sweetest are those that were once good...that were once bound for Heaven's door. Those that fall off the righteous path and into my greedy little hands."
"Like you did?" Gabriel asked, arching a tawny brow curiously, silently willing his brother to see the correlation. There had to be something left in him that remembered the old teachings...their ways. Gabriel refused to believe that all was lost.
"Why do you expect one such as I to be merciful, Gabe?" Satan asked impatiently, rolling his eyes as he bounced his fingertips against the table, leaving small dents in the wood from the force of the touch. "What about me makes you think that I give a damn about The One's wishes?"
The Devil's Snare Page 2
