Niki Slobodian 04 - The Devil Was an Angel

by J. L. Murray

  “You made her leave. You. You treated her badly, you were cruel to her. Only you. She warned you not to touch me. She saw it in a vision, but you didn't listen. It was you who ignored her, who held me down and rifled around inside of me,” I said. “No one made you do that. I can forgive you. Maybe she can too. But you have to put the gun down.” I sucked in air through my teeth. My arm looked like something from a bad horror flick, bubbling and hissing and writhing.

  He smiled. “Everything dies.” His finger moved toward the trigger. There was a wet sound like a watermelon on concrete. And then Zagan dropped the gun. I frowned, looking at it lying on the ground, not comprehending. The cuffs of Zagan's pants were on fire. I looked up at him and his mouth went slack; an O of surprise. And then his face fell apart. The top slid off and felt to the floor with a sizzle into the flames. The rest of his body stood there for a moment, before leaning over and falling to the floor with a reverberating thud. And then, seeing the figure behind him, I understood.

  Lucifer.

  He stood in the flames, his hair wild, panting. He was holding the flaming blade, now dripping with black blood. The hole in his chest was nearly closed, and I could see flickers of white light coming from within. I stepped toward him, still not understanding how he was here, how I was still alive. Lucifer staggered, grasping my shoulder to keep from falling. I held my arm away from my body. The pain was agonizing. The souls would have to wait a little while longer.

  “Your arm,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “Why are you here?” I said. I stared up at him in shock. “How are you here?”

  “I told you,” he said. “I'll always come.” Then he slid off my shoulder and fell to the floor. I stared at him for a long time. The flames didn't touch me, and they didn't seem to affect him. He had saved my life.

  I ripped a hole into the Unsung and, gripping his body with my good arm, I dragged him into the void. Looking back through the rip in reality, I saw a shape in the flames. The figure of a man. He raised his hand to me in a wave. And then he was gone.

  “Goodbye, Sam,” I whispered. And then the rip was gone and we were spinning through the darkness toward Erebos.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Lucifer had nearly killed one of the guards, and wounded two others. Apparently he kept a sword under his bed like any normal guy. Gage slept through the whole thing. After a few hours, my arm had become a road map of scars. I flexed my fingers. I could still feel the power coursing through me, softening the scar tissue. I would have a normal hand by dawn.

  I walked into Lucifer's bedroom to find Gage glaring at Lucifer and Lucifer glaring at me. Lucifer was lying on the bed. He didn't move.

  “You froze him, huh?” I said.

  “Damn straight,” said Gage. “Stupid bastard wouldn't stay in bed. Kept saying he had to get to you. To make sure you were safe.” I looked at Lucifer. He responded by continuing to glare at me.

  I laughed. “Go get some sleep, Bobby. I'll stay here.”

  “Did it work?”

  I took a breath. “Ba'al is dead. Zagan is dead. Sam is...gone.”

  “Sorry, Niki.”

  I shrugged. “Couldn't be helped, I guess. Strange lives we lead.”

  “The strangest,” he said.

  I sat down on the gigantic bed, careful not to jostle Lucifer too much. “Go get some sleep, Bobby. Just pick a room. There's about a thousand of them.”

  “We'll go after Kane after you're all healed up,” he said. He grimaced at my arm. “You sure that's going to heal up?”

  “Pretty sure. We'll talk in the morning,” I said. I stretched my back straight. “I'm just so tired.”

  He sighed. “Fine. I'll see you in the morning, sis.” He stood and kissed me on top of the head. “Damn, you need a bath. You reek like a bonfire gone bad.” I laughed. Gage looked at Lucifer. He pointed a finger at him. “You be good to her. You might be some kind of god down here, but you just remember who kept you locked in that bed. Niki's like family to me. I wouldn't take it well if something happened to her.”

  Lucifer's eyes went to me. He raised an eyebrow. The spell was wearing off. Gage winked at me and then opened the door. “Night, Nik,” he said. “Get some rest.”

  “I will,” I said.

  When he was gone I looked at Lucifer. The blankets had been pushed down past his wound. A gnarled purple knot of a scar as big as my fist stood out on his chest. I swallowed and looked up at his face. I had the urge to look away. Something hurt in my chest. But I forced myself to just look at him. He wasn't Sam. I didn't know how I could have thought they looked alike. They were completely different. I wanted to run away then. To run and never have to face what I felt. But meeting Lucifer's eyes, the feeling disappeared.

  I knew then what it was about him that kept drawing me back, kept forcing me to think about him even when I fought it. I had been running as long as I could remember. Maybe ever since I was born. I ran from New Government, I ran from what I was and what my family was. I ran to provide for Sofi. I ran to help Sam, at first desperate for the money, and later because he desperately needed me. But looking at Lucifer, his eyes burning into mine, I felt something strange; every time we touched, every time we were together, I felt like I didn't have to run. I could finally be still. After all these years, after a lifetime of fear, of anger, of exhaustion, I could be still. It was peace.

  “You saved my life,” I said. He stared back at me. “I don't know how you knew, but I'm grateful you came. I'd be dead if it weren't for you.” I frowned. “I don't know what comes next,” I said softly.

  His lips trembled, as though he were trying to move them, but they were still frozen by Gage's casting.

  “Just let me say this first,” I said. “I have to say it now, or I'll never say it. I'm broken that way.” He managed to barely nod his head. “I'm not good at this,” I continued. “I do great beginnings and tragic endings. It's all the mushy stuff in the middle that gives me trouble.” I breathed deeply, trying to figure a way to say what I needed to say. I frowned into my hands. They were black with soot. “Sam's gone,” I said. I looked at him. He frowned. “I burned the bar down. You know that, I guess. It was the last of him. Except the part I'm using, anyway. But I think, in the end, he wanted to go. I think it was just hard for him. I broke his heart. I didn't mean to. In the end, I just didn't love him. Not the way he wanted me to. And I couldn't bring myself to do what he wanted me to. He wanted me to bring him back. And I couldn't imagine being responsible for his death a second time. I just couldn't. Maybe I'm getting old, or cynical, or maybe I just don't want to feel sad any more.” I laughed, my eyes filling up with tears. “Isn't that funny? Death doesn't want to feel sad.” I shook my head. “I tried really hard to love him, you know. Even after everything, all the lies, all the manipulations.

  “I don't know how you really feel about me.” I looked at him, feeling slightly out of breath. I had never done this before with anyone. I didn't like to expose myself, but I knew that I had to. “Sam's gone now, so if you were just spending time with me to mess with him, you can tell me. I might be angry, but I'll get over it. If you want to walk away, it's okay.” I pushed my hair away from my face. “I don't know what this is. I don't even know if it's possible for me not to screw up something good. And I don't know what I feel. If you try to make me say the words...I hope you won't make me do that. It's just that I never thought I'd see anything beautiful again. I never thought I'd see anything that way. My world has always been ugly. But ever since I met you...” I shook my head. I sounded ridiculous. “There's always going to be death. It's sort of my thing. I help the spirits, I set things right. I killed a lot of people in the last twenty-four hours. And most of them, I didn't feel bad about it. I don't know what that makes me. But you make me see the other parts, too. I get this glimpse between the cracks and...” I laughed. “Jesus, the world is just so goddamn beautiful. And it's your fault.”

  I looked away from him. “That's all I have to say,” I said. “We
don't ever have to talk about this again.” I looked down at my gnarled hand. The scar tissue was thinner, the pink scars looking more like new skin. “If you don't feel the same way, I get it. I wouldn't blame you. I'm a piece of work.”

  A heavy silence hung in the room. I closed my eyes. I had to get out of the room, away from Lucifer's watching eyes. I stood up woodenly, feeling raw and sore and weak with exhaustion. I turned to go.

  “You don't,” I heard him rasp. I turned. He was working his throat muscles as if trying to swallow.

  “I don't what?” I said.

  He closed his eyes, working to take a deep breath. He opened his eyes and locked them onto mine. “You don't owe me,” he said. “I told you I would always come. But you don't owe me.” He swallowed, flinching. “I came because I wanted to. I heard you say my name and I felt your fear. And I couldn't let you be alone like that.”

  “Why?” I said. “You had a damn hole in your chest. I don't even know how you're not dead.”

  “I told you,” he said, his voice like gravel. “I'll never leave you.”

  “How can you make a promise like that?”

  “You carried the Creator,” he said. “And part of Him never left you. You will never taste death. Which is ironic.”

  “How did you know about that?” I said. “I didn't even know until yesterday.”

  “Because,” he said, heaving a breath. “Because I carried him, too.”

  I stared at him. “What?” But I knew it was true. I remembered the sparks of bright white I'd seen come from his wound. The same power that was healing my arm.

  “It was long ago,” he said. “In the beginning, so to speak.”

  “He walked the earth before?”

  “Oh yes,” said Lucifer. “It's His favorite thing to do.”

  “So He'll probably do it again.”

  “Probably.”

  “So when Ba'al put a bolt of lightning through you, when he burned up your heart...”

  “It doesn't matter why I'm alive,” said Lucifer. “It doesn't matter why you're still alive. All that matters is that we are.”

  “But I did die,” I said. “I burned. From angelwine. If the Creator's power heals, why didn't it bring me back?”

  He hesitated, frowning. “It would have,” he said finally.

  “What?”

  “If Sam hadn't brought you back," he said slowly, “if he had waited just a little longer. Carrying the Creator is a gift, a gift that has certain...advantages. It didn't happen right away for you because the power was still dormant. You remember afterwards? How the power seemed to wake up?”

  “So if he didn't put his soul into me...what? I'd just come back to life?”

  “Essentially.”

  “It was all for nothing, then?”

  “I wouldn't say that,” he said.

  “Why didn't it explode?” I said. “When my arm got hurt and it was healing me, why didn't the power explode in the bar? Like it did before?”

  “Explode?” he said.

  “The Outsiders,” I said. “The ones that were attacking the city. They're all dead.”

  “The power is part of you,” he said. “It does what you want it to.”

  “I didn't want to kill all those people.”

  “Are you sure?” he said. “I wouldn't blame you if you did. They were causing innocent people to die. I haven't heard a single scream outside. You did what I was too weak to let myself do.”

  I wasn't sure what to think. I had killed all those people. Even if most of them were killers, a needle of guilt worked its way under my skin.

  “Niki?” I looked up. “Let it go.”

  “How can I?” I said.

  “Because I'm asking you to.” He frowned as he moved his fingers. Painfully slow, he forced his arm towards me. I took his hand with my good one. “Please. It's not your fault.” With effort he squeezed my hand.

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “I never cared about hurting Samael.”

  I looked at him. “Is that true?”

  “I didn't mean for it to happen,” he said. “I thought he was gone in the beginning. And you were...my God, Niki, you don't know how truly incredible you are. You made me forget everything. And after I knew Samael was still here, even just part of him...” He swallowed easier now. “It was too late.” He took a breath, his chest moving as he did so. The scar had turned from purple to an angry reddish-pink. “It makes me ashamed to say it.” He met my eyes again. “I knew Samael was here, I knew he saw.” He lowered his voice, whispering. “I just couldn't care.”

  I could feel my heart beating in my throat. It was hard to breathe. Lucifer moved his leg, frowning as he did so. He was recovering from Bobby Gage quickly.

  “Niki, if we do this, you should know that I don't know if I'll ever be able to fully control myself. There will always be a part of me that is willing to go mad. Part of me will never give up the way I used to be.

  I looked at him, fighting an insane urge to laugh. “You have no idea what I've done tonight, do you?”

  “I killed five lords without even thinking,” said Lucifer.

  “I blew up a village,” I said.

  “That wasn't your fault,” he said. “You didn't know.”

  “I killed Grazial.”

  “Oh?”

  “I pulled his soul out of his body in front of everyone.” He blinked at me. “I shot the necromancer full of holes and I killed Ba'al.”

  “Good thing it's not a competition,” he said.

  “Do you still want me after all that?” I said.

  He didn't hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Then what the hell makes you think a little bit of crazy is going to scare me away?”

  His mouth twitched into that odd half-smile he had. His hair had come undone and was tangled with weeds and dirt. He had a spatter of dried blood on his cheek above his unshaven face. And he was the best thing I ever saw.

  “Maybe you should run,” he said, a glint in his eye.

  “Why?” I said.

  “Because I've been able to move for a few minutes now.”

  “What does that—” He wrapped his fingers through mine, and, so fast it took my breath away, he pulled me roughly to him.

  “Aren't you afraid to be alone with a madman?” he said. He raised an eyebrow. “We are alone, aren't we?”

  I smiled. “Completely.”

  “No one in your head?”

  “Just me,” I said.

  He smiled. “Good. Then you won't mind if I do this.” He was a blur as he flipped me onto my back, pressing himself against me.

  “Goddamn angels,” I said. But I pulled his face to mine. When our mouths touched, the world disappeared. I didn't think about Sam or Gage or death. There was only us.

  “I'm not going to say it,” I said, pulling away.

  “That's a lie,” he said. “You know what this is.”

  “Shut up,” I said. “I'm not saying it.”

  “You will,” he said.

  “You sure this is the right place?” Gage said for the third time.

  “I'm sure,” I said. “Just sit still.”

  “I don't like this place,” he said. “Can you hear those voices?”

  “No one likes this place,” I said. “That's the point. It's Sheol.”

  We were standing in front of the mossy door, the carved eye just visible. I could hear the cacophony of the whispers of the resting dead just inside. It set my teeth on edge. My mother was in there. Sasha, my adoptive father. Sofi was in there now, too. But I had no desire to enter. We were here for a purpose.

  “Your boyfriend really lived here for a while?” Gage said. “I dunno how he could stand it.”

  I shrugged. “Grief does weird things to you. And stop calling him my boyfriend.”

  Gage smiled. “That was predictable.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You're blushing, Slobodian.”

  “No I'm not.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you serious
about this or not?”

  Gage sighed. “Hell yeah, I'm serious. Been waiting a long damn time for this. Just trying to lighten the mood. That bastard killed my family and ruined my life. So yes, Niki. I'm serious.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “It's okay, sis,” he said. “It's good to see you happy for a change.”

  “What makes you think I'm happy?” I said.

  “Please. You're goddamn glowing.”

  “I think we should talk about something else,” I said. I flexed my fingers. They were back to normal. So I was some kind of immortal. Definitely not normal, but then, I never was.

  “I thought you didn't want me to talk at all,” Gage said. “Make up your damn mind.”

  “Quiet,” I said suddenly.

  “See?” said Gage.

  “You hear that?” I said.

  “No.”

  I held my finger to my lips. There was a rustle in the air. And then I heard it. Insects. I turned toward the noise. I could feel him coming. I held out my hand. There was a vibration, and then a peculiar heat that surrounded my fingers, followed by the barest touch of something that felt silky and cool. I smiled. The feeling got stronger, the vibration more intense. I made a fist and had him before I could even see him. He materialized, coughing and spluttering and gasping with pain. His eyes searched the dark and slimy stairwell wildly, finally alighting on me.

  “Hello, Kane,” I said. “Did you miss me?”

  “No,” he gasped. “How did you...this isn't possible!”

  “Oh, it is,” I said. “And here we all are. You've met my friend Bobby, haven't you?” Gage stepped forward.

  “Nice to see you again, dirtbag,” said Gage. “Can't just pop away this time, can you?”

  Kane looked from Bobby to me. “You can't do this,” he said. “It's cruel. Inhuman. That's not you, Niki. I know it isn't.”

  “Funny you should mention that,” I said. I leaned close to him so my lips were centimeters from his ear and whispered. “I'm not human.”

  “You are,” Kane said. His voice had become high and he kept glancing at Gage, who had taken a hunting knife out of his belt and was twirling it in his hand. “The humanity never leaves you. It's part of you.”