My horse suddenly appeared and approached me. I held my hand out to her and stroked over her face. The horse harrumphed softly, blowing warm air from her nostrils.
“Misery,” I murmured, as I took in her black velvet coat, inky with a darkness I almost couldn’t define. “One day we’ll ride.”
Lucifer had ridden his horse all over Heaven and much of Earth, too. Part of me longed to experience that freedom for myself, and I patted Misery again. The two of us were stuck with each other for the rest of eternity it seemed, so I'd better get used to her.
I tiled my head as I stared into her dark eyes. "I think we need a better name for you. Something not quite so dreary."
Misery whinnied softly at that, and I felt something like approval through our strange connection. I didn't get words from her, nothing like that, just a little hint of her thoughts and emotions.
"Blackie? Midnight? Ghost?"
She didn't like any of those. I was pondering some others, when a movement from the nearby olive trees drew my attention. I rose to my feet, but I wasn’t worried. Security had been increased even more since Pestilence had been locked up in the garden, and I was well guarded today.
I smiled as Damien strode from the olive trees, something I'd planted because they reminded me of our home in Faerie. My handsome middle son was a perfect mix of fae and Fallen, and I desperately wanted to spend some time with him after all these years.
"Hello, Mother," he said as he approached with a sad smile.
I stood and held out my hands to him. "Is everything all right?"
"It's been nice being here with all of you, but I must return to Faerie to continue my work. I think I’ve done all I can here.” His gaze drifted to the waterfall and the cave beyond.
"I understand, and I appreciate everything you've done. Before you go, can you sit for a while?" I dropped as gracefully as I could back on the stone bench and patted the space next to me. “It’s been a long time since we’ve caught up properly, and I’ve only just found you again.”
My chest tightened a little at the thought. Thanks to the curse, and then Jophiel hiding who I was for so long, I hadn't seen Damien in years. I'd managed to reconnect with my other sons a little, but it was always a bit awkward. They weren’t the men I remembered, and I wasn’t the mother they knew. But it was important for me to try, especially with a new addition to our family on the way. I didn’t want to be a stranger to any of my sons ever again.
"Yes, I have some time." He sat beside me and gazed across the space. "This garden is lovely. It reminds me of our Spring Court residence."
I beamed at his compliment. "That's exactly what I was trying to emulate, using everything I remembered from my time there. Although when we went to Faerie to release Famine, I realized it would be impossible to truly copy such a place on Earth. This was the best I could do."
"Do you miss Faerie?"
"Sometimes, but it was so many lifetimes ago..." I shrugged. "I have a connection with all the realms, but my place is here on Earth at the moment."
"And mine is in Faerie. Though I hope to be able to visit you more often now. A baby sister is a good excuse, after all. Speaking, of how’s my sister doing in there?” He nodded at my stomach and I automatically passed my hand over my bump, happy when my daughter kicked in response.
“She’s great. Famine promised she’d come to no harm, and she hasn’t.”
"I can't wait to meet her. I'll make sure to come back after she's born. I just can't be away from Faerie too long."
"Lucifer told me about the work you're doing there," I said. Damien was pretending to be one of Oberon's most loyal princes, but in truth he was spying on the High King for Lucifer.
Damien nodded, his face serious. "Oberon has kept Faerie neutral for years, but I'm sure he is plotting something big, though I don't know what."
"Is it true he killed Titania?" I asked. Though I'd never been close to the Queen, she had been my aunt, after all.
He glanced around and lowered his voice. “No one can prove it, but everyone knows he did."
"How did my mother..." I paused and started again. "How did Demeter take her sister's death?"
"Not well, but as Queen of the Spring Court she can't openly do anything against Oberon. I'm pretty sure she would act against him if she could though. I've been trying to find others who might help overthrow him someday."
I lifted an eyebrow. “That sounds dangerous."
He shrugged. "Yes, but someone needs to protect the future of Faerie."
I squeezed his arm gently. “Just be careful, okay?"
He rolled his eyes and grinned at me. "I am, don't worry."
"I always worry. That's what mothers do." I reached up to touch his shiny blue-black hair, which was stunningly beautiful under the sun. "What of love? Any special men or women? If I remember correctly, you were quite the charmer as Dionysus. The stories about your parties were legendary. Why don't you use that name anymore?"
He coughed and jerked his head away. "That was the old me. I've changed a lot in the last few thousand years."
"What happened?" I asked, hearing the touch of sadness in his voice. Like most immortals who'd lived thousands of years, he'd gone by many names during his lifetime. Dionysus had been his fae name, and Damien his demon one. I was surprised he used the demon one now, despite living in Faerie.
"After you—Persephone—died..." He paused, as if finding the right words. "Things were different. Belial left Hell, then tried to overthrow Father. I tried to stay out of it, and at first, I threw myself into the parties, booze, and orgies, but later I realized it was just a way to numb myself to the pain of it all. Eventually, I chose a different path."
It pained me to see my most carefree and jovial son so heavy-hearted. While I'd been alive, his life had been a celebration of wine, sex, and merriment. He'd once been a great actor and patron of the theater too, but I supposed now he used those skills as a spy. “Belial told me you both blamed your father for my death."
"It was a difficult time for both of us. I'm not sure I ever told you this, but Belial and I were the ones who found you dead, after Plutus and Philomelus killed you."
That was unusual—normally the curse had me die in Lucifer's arms, but there were a few exceptions, and it probably pleased Death to bring misery upon my sons too.
Plutus had been Adam's incarnation while I'd been Persephone. He was an Autumn Court fae, along with his brother Philomelus, who'd gone along with everything horrible Plutus had done. Recently Philomelus had been helping Adam release Pestilence and War, but I bested him during the battle in Heaven, and Azazel got in the killing blow.
"If it makes you feel any better, Philomelus is dead. And Adam..." I gestured toward the waterfall. "But why did you blame your father?"
"You were killed on one of your trips to Faerie as part of Lucifer's deal with Demeter to spend half your time in Hell, and half there. You tried to get him to go with you, but Lucifer refused, saying he had to stay and rule the demons from the palace in Hell. He always hated going to Faerie, so you went alone—and because of that, you died."
As Damien fell quiet, I smoothed a hand over his back. "It wasn't Lucifer's fault. It was Adam, and the curse. But that's over now."
"You were safer in Hell," Damien muttered. "Father should have broken the deal with Demeter and kept you there. Or gone with you at least."
I sighed. "Yes, probably, but it's easy to look back at the past and think of all the things we could have done differently. Trust me, with hundreds of past lives and just as many gruesome deaths, I could chase those thoughts for hours. But at some point we have to accept the mistakes we made and try to move forward."
"I know, and I did. I didn't speak with Father for a long time, but eventually I stopped blaming him for what happened. I don’t think Belial has ever forgiven him though.” He patted my hand. “Maybe he’ll come around now."
“Yeah, maybe.” But I couldn’t help but worry he might not.
"A
new sister will help with that. Father and I reconnected a lot after Kassiel was born, mostly thanks to you. That's when I offered to work for him as a spy."
I smiled at the memories of my life as Lenore, one of my last few moments of happiness with my family before recent events. "Yes, I remember."
"Do you?" Damien cocked his head as he studied me.
"When Lucifer broke the curse, all my memories came back. I remember almost everything, though it comes and goes, as memories do."
"Everything? Like the time when I nearly fell into the fire pit?”
I arched an eyebrow. “You mean when Belial was supposed to be watching you?”
He laughed at that. "And all the times you caught me in bed with someone?"
I groaned and ducked my head. "Unfortunately, yes. Both men and women. Sometimes both at the same time. Things a mother should never have to see."
Damien only laughed harder, and I was happy to see some of my old mischievous, carefree son back again. We chatted a bit more about memories of the past, laughing and smiling as we reminisced together. He caught me up a bit more on his life in Faerie, and how he had won over Oberon after many years, and how his grandmother continues to be a thorn in his side even though she obviously cares. I told him more about this life, and everything Jophiel had done to keep me safe from Adam, and how Lucifer broke the curse. But eventually the hour grew late, and it was time to say goodbye.
Damien glanced toward the setting sun. “I should go.”
“Do you really have to?”
"Unfortunately yes, but I will be back soon. I promise." He pulled me into a last hug before he opened a portal to Faerie, and I breathed deep at the smell of home that emanated from it.
"You better."
I gave him another hug, and then held back tears as he disappeared inside the portal, though I was confident I would see him again soon.
Time had been tough on our family, but I was certain that things would be better going forward. I was going to make sure of it.
19
Lucifer
I looked out over one of the crowded bar areas on the first floor of the Celestial. Tourists came here to drown their sorrows after losing too much money on the slots. Funny how humans continued their lives oblivious to all else going on around them, truly blinded to anything outside their own sphere of understanding. Clinking glasses, chatter and laughter formed the soundtrack to the evening and a sports event flickered on a television just barely in view, tucked around a corner. But none of that interested me.
I peered deeper into the shadows, and there he was. Belial. Alone on a stool and in the furthest reaches of the bar, almost as if he’d set a warded circle around himself to keep people away.
I started to stride over to him, but stopped a short distance away, unsure of my welcome. He looked up, amusement flashing briefly through his eyes as he witnessed my hesitation. I grinned and nodded brief acknowledgment. Yes, any sort of hesitation was uncharacteristic of me, but in this instance, it wasn’t weakness. It was the closest I’d come to asking him for consent to join him, and he was too like me to not know that.
He glanced at the barstool next to him. Just a flicker. If I’d have blinked, I’d have missed the invitation, but I’d known not to blink. Belial wouldn’t ask twice.
“Drink?” I asked. When had I last bought my son a drink? For that matter, had I ever bought one for him? Of course, I wouldn’t actually buy one now either. I’d just wave, and a bartender would keep them coming.
My oldest son lifted his glass, the ice chinking softly inside. “Got one.”
I waved anyway. This wasn’t a conversation to have without the accompanying burn of good quality whiskey. “How are you doing?”
He answered my uninspired question with a dry, humorless chuckle. "Small talk, really?"
"We've got to start somewhere, don't we?" This was our first real conversation in centuries. I had no idea how to begin it, but I couldn't let things go on this way any longer.
"All right then." He raised an eyebrow, and for a second he looked so much like his mother when she'd been Eve. "I'm just dandy. How are you?"
His voice was dripping with sarcasm. This was never going to be an easy conversation, and I hadn’t expected Belial to make it any easier. Still, he could help me out a little here. My whiskey arrived at that moment, and I took a long sip of liquid courage.
"I want to thank you for helping your mother in both Faerie. She says she couldn't have done it without you."
Belial simply nodded and sipped his drink. I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to find the right words to connect with my son. This was much harder than I'd expected.
“I’m sorry.” I blurted out the words in my head. They weren’t the words I’d intended to say, and Belial stiffened, tension in all of his muscles. His head moved toward me almost as if he might look at me, but it was little more than a twitch he didn’t complete in the end.
I laughed, the sound self-deprecating. “I realize those aren’t words you’re used to hearing from me.”
He acknowledged me with a quick contraction of his lips, but he still didn’t look in my direction as I studied his profile.
“I know I wasn’t the best father to you. I was…” I paused, my mouth dry. I'd been about to say I'd been busy, but that wasn't right. "I was stupid."
Belial cut a glance toward me, and it was all the invitation I needed to keep speaking.
“When you were born, I'd just left Heaven to become king of Hell. You were only a baby when I begged Nyx to turn the Fallen into demons. Then a small child when we defeated the Elder Gods and locked away the Horsemen. Then a teenager when Adam killed your mother the first time as part of the curse. I spent your entire childhood struggling to prove myself as the Demon King and to keep the denizens of Hell in line. But I should have spent it with you." I sucked in a deep breath as I continued. I had to get this out, or I might never have the courage or the opportunity to speak like this again. "Especially after Eve was killed. I didn't know how to handle being a father or being a king without her—and I wasn't sure how the curse worked, or if she really would return. But I should have seen how all of those things were affecting you too. I should have been a better father. I tried to do better with your brothers, but I failed you, and I'm sorry.”
He met my gaze properly, and I released a breath at the sudden connection. "Fuck. I've waited thousands of years to hear you say those words."
"I wish I hadn't waited so long to say them." I gave him a wry grin. "Maybe you wouldn't have tried to overthrow me. Twice."
One corner of his mouth curved, the half-smile bitter. “Not some of my finest moments, I'll admit."
"Do you really hate me so much you want me dead?" I asked in a low voice, almost afraid to hear the answer.
He looked down at his hands, wrapping around his drink. "No. I didn't want you dead. I have a lot of regrets. Like siding with Adam and releasing Pestilence. I tried to fix it by becoming War, but we all saw how that turned out.”
I didn’t speak. This all felt too fragile to disrupt.
“To answer your question, no, I don't hate you," he continued. "Maybe I did at various times in the past, but not anymore. But I don't regret trying to overthrow you either time. Each time I did it, you'd become out of touch with the people you ruled over, and I knew it was time for a change. No one should rule unchecked for thousands of years. That's the way to despotism. You might not have seen it, but both times the revolution was brewing behind your back even without me. I simply ignited the spark."
I considered his words, and some of the things the Archdemons had said over the last year. Many of them were unhappy that I ended the war with the angels and made us leave Hell, even though I did it to save the demon race. I had no regrets there. Still, perhaps I'd acted too harshly. Perhaps I should have consulted them more. I'd also discovered that many felt Fallen were not truly demons, and that I held my kind above all of the other demonic races. Perhaps I did, as I us
ed them to watch over the other demons and keep them in line. Maybe Belial was right and it was time for a change, though I wasn't giving up my throne so easily.
I stroked my chin as I considered. "Your point is valid. I've started to see that some of that is true, and I’d love to talk with you more about this. Believe it or not, I do not want to become a dictator."
“Yeah, whatever.” He shrugged and sipped his drink, back to acting like he didn't give a damn, but I knew better. Like me, he cared—maybe too much, even though he would never admit it. And like me, that was often his downfall. But I was admitting it now.
I raised my glass. "Of course, now that the curse is broken and your mother is ruling beside me, I have a feeling she'll keep me in line too."
Belial managed to chuckle at that. "No doubt. Not to mention a miniature version of her running around soon."
I groaned. "That's right. It's been so long, I forgot how difficult those early years can be sometimes. I actually think I blocked out the toddler years with all of you. Especially Damien's. What a little monster he was."
Belial actually laughed at that, and we both took a sip of our drinks, settling into a companionable silence. I was having a drink with my son, and all was right in the world.
Belial cleared his throat. “I’ll leave Morningstar with you before I go.”
I started to open my mouth to accept but I waved my hand instead. “Keep it for now. I want you to be safe, wherever you are."
Morningstar was my angelic sword, forged for me in Heaven back when I'd been an Archangel. When I'd left for Hell and become a Fallen, the sword had changed, allowing it to channel both darkness and light. Only those of my blood could use the sword now, along with Hannah, since she was my mate. It would always come back to me, but for now it felt right with Belial.
He shrugged. “It’s not like I plan to use it. I’m heading back to New Orleans. Back to my bar. Back to staying out of this shit."
Infernal God (Claimed By Lucifer Book 3) Page 10
