by TW Knight
Hogart grunted.
"Why are you here?"
"You brought me."
A low growl rumbled in Bass' chest. "You know what I mean. Why are you on Earth?"
"I told you, I made a mistake."
"A woman?" A dark eyebrow arched.
“No.” A sigh escaped the warrior. "I refused an order, my return to Heaven was denied. I was locked out. As further punishment, an entire civilization was destroyed."
"So you've been here a long time," Bass mused. "Why have you been following Sam? What's he to you?"
"I don't know."
"Don't lie. We all know you still have your soul, so Sam's not your soul-keeper. There's no reason for you to be so obsessed with him."
"I understand your anger," Hogart answered calmly. "Sam is connected to Bree, and Bree—"
"Bree is mine to protect. If your interests in Sam hurt Bree, I'll find a way to kill you— permanently."
"Truly, I wish I understood this obsession. To know if it is part of the madness that haunts me or something else pushing me to do these things. It is all mixed up in here.” He lifted a hand to his head.
"What was your position? Your rank? What did you do for them?" The last word dripped with acid.
Hogart shrugged against the sheets. "I was a mentor, same as you, I suspect."
"Bullshit. After our expulsion, I was forced to be a warrior, you were created for it. Battle, war, death, it's in your blood. You're kind were the so-called justice dealers. You killed whoever the Hierarchy told you to. No questions." Bass stood, his chair shooting back and falling over. "Is that that why you're after Sam? Is that why you tried to kill him? You've been given orders by those assholes?"
"No. The Hierarchy hasn't acknowledged my existence for any reason in millennia. I told you, the Darkness drove me to kill the boy. I want nothing more than to protect him."
"I don't believe you. There's something more to you. You've been following the twins since they were kids. You were there the night their parents were killed. You fought the demons to protect them. Don't tell me that was a coincidence. You were looking for Sam, weren't you?"
"I told you—"
"Enough," Bass snapped. "We know you stalked the twins these last ten years. Hell, you tried to kidnap Sam while we were in Alaska. You just tried to kill him. You're fucking insane." Bass leaned over the bed rail, his voice changed to a ragged whisper. "You are going to tell us everything. Do you hear me?"
Hogart laughed, a short harsh cough. "There are too many dark places in my mind, brother. I cannot tell you what I'm no longer sure is the truth."
Frustrated, Bass stared at the curtains separating Hogart from Sam and Bree. "That boy is as messed up as you are. I promised Bree I'd help him, but I can't do that if I don't know why you've been shadowing him," he growled softly. "Now, the truth. What started the fight in the courtyard?"
"It wasn't a fight, we were sparring. I'd offered to the train the boy, he's a born warrior." Hogart rubbed his temples, eyes squeezed tight. "My head hurts. Are you done interrogating me?"
"No."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bree laid her head on Bass' shoulder, her hand resting on his bare chest. "If none of you, except the elite angels, have grey-silver hair, why didn't you call Hogart out on it back at the hanger when you first saw him?"
"If you remember correctly, I was dead. It was Rail's call to confront him or let it go."
"Okay, I get that." She leveled him with a challenging gaze. "If Lucifer used to be part of the Hierarchy, why does he have black hair?"
"What?" Bass tilted his chin down looking at her in disbelief. After Hogart refused to talk to him anymore, Bass collected Bree, returned to his— their —room to rest, and discuss Hogart's revelations. "I just told you, Hogart acted as an Enforcer for the Hierarchy, a higher level angel, a servant to the Arch Angels... and that's what you want to know? Why does that PITA Lucifer have black hair?"
She shrugged and rolled, elbowing him in the abdomen as she propped her chin on stacked fists. "I just find it interesting."
"How do you know he has black hair?" Bass' eyebrow quirked.
"Cassidy told me she met him. Something about getting dragged into Hell? She said he looked like a rock-star, all leather and ripped abs."
"Rock-star, my ass." Bass huffed, making Bree giggle. "I only asked Hogart about the spell Lucifer might have used, not his fashion choices. Bastard wouldn't even answer me about how long he's been locked out of Heaven or which civilization was destroyed as his punishment." He released a long breath. "It could be any number of places chalked up to natural disasters."
Bree shivered in his arms. "Did things like that happen a lot?"
"You've studied religious history and mythology, what do you think?" Sliding his arms around her, Bass pulled Bree closer to his chest so he could kiss her.
"Zach mentioned a prophecy, does what happened with Sam have anything to do with that?"
"No," Bass breathed. "It has to do with us, the Knights."
"Will you tell me about it?"
"Yes. But I don't want to talk about it right now."
"Okay." Brushing her fingers over his face, Bree asked, "Can we just hold each other for a while?"
If she felt his heart jump, she didn't comment. He was not a cuddler, but damn it sounded abso-fuckin-lutly perfect to him. "Anything you want, babe."
Sighing, she snuggled closer, tucking her legs against his ribs. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Understanding."
"Uh, understanding what?"
She laughed. "Just take the compliment and don't worry about it."
"Then how will I know how to do whatever I did again?"
This time, Bree laughed so hard she shook. "Trust me, you'll know because I'll let you know."
Shaking his head, Bass wrapped his arms around her and rolled, pinning her beneath him. "Me big dumb brute male," he rumbled in a voice somewhere between Tarzan and caveman. "Need clear instructions to make beautiful woman happy."
Sliding her hands up to lock them behind his neck, Bree pulled his head down and nipped his lower lip before easing the sting with a kiss. "Don't worry about it. You're doing just fine."
"I'm serious, Bree." Bass brushed some hair from her face, tracing a finger across her cheek and along her jaw. "For the first time in..." Closing his eyes, he took a breath. "For the first time, there's someone other than myself I want to make happy. I don't know what to do."
"Me neither," she confessed. "I guess we'll just have to figure it out as we go along."
"Well, I know one thing that will make us both happy." He rolled his hips against hers.
"Oh, well, when you put it like that—"
The wails from a thousand banshees rent the air, followed by a great deal of cursing.
"Gods-damn-cock-blocking-motherfucking-alarms!"
"This is not a drill boys and girls," Hackers' voice called over the intercom. "Saddle up!"
Bass grabbed Bree and kissed her hard and fast.
"Hold that thought ‘till I get back."
Dumbly, Bree nodded watching him storm from the room half naked, totally aroused, and armed with an extremely large sword.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rolling over, Lucifer bit back a groan. He couldn't afford to show any more weakness. The backlash from his failed attempt to possess the warrior and then the human boy left him drained. Brightside, he woke to not find minor demons tormenting him.
Perhaps his master knew about his attempt at a direct attack and granted him a reprieve despite the failure. The gesture was akin to telling a child they were no longer grounded.
Whispering in the walls let him know the portals were opening again, and had been for some weeks. Whatever locked them shut in the first place ran its course. Lucifer still wondered what could have caused such an event. It took a great deal of power to close, or open, a portal. At first he was certain his master locked everything down, fearing an attack
from on high— a break in the strained treaty between Heaven and Hell —but it didn't turn out to be the case.
Satan was just as perplexed.
Lucifer suspected the Being of Light closed the portals as it escaped the cavern. He would never admit he'd let it go. Honestly, he couldn't be blamed; the absolute shock seeing the legendary creature totally blew all logical thought from his mind. Such a being should not exist— and most definitely should not be created by a Knight and his human soul-keeper.
No way were perfectly Dark and Light in equal measure.
Lucifer pushed the thought aside. For the moment, his master ignored him. A subtle hint his vacation was over and he should get back to work causing the world trouble.
As soon as he got his ass out of bed.
He would heal faster in pure demon form, but he didn't have the strength to transform. On a positive note, it appeared his skin fully regenerated. How many months had the ordeal lasted? He'd tired of his bloody muscles sticking to the sheets. His hair was another matter. It would take years to grow back to its previous glory. Lucifer shivered. There was the distinct, horrid, possibility it would come back its original silver-white color.
Satan enjoyed watching his little pets pull the strands out one by one and weave them into a whip. A whip the Master used to flay Lucifer.
Whether Satan meant the demeaning act as simple torture or a comment regarding pride, Lucifer didn't care. He was a creature of Hell, damn it. He should be allowed the sin of pride.
He smirked.
His insatiable need to stand out amongst all the silver and white, to be the center of attention, drove him to discover how to permanently color his hair. A little blood, some dark magic, a few human sacrifices...
And to think that was the last straw.
Lucifer snorted. He'd spoken out against the Creator, his father, time and time again— led more than one coup attempt —yet incurred no reprisals other than a demotion. But then he was one of the Creator's first born, one of the favorites'. One of the elite. A fact others enjoyed pointing out behind his back. He didn't need to flaunt how special he was, Father knew.
Unfortunately, like with any parent, favoritism was fickle.
The humans got it wrong. It wasn't an attempt to take over Heaven which finally got him kicked out. No, it was the blatant defiant act of wanting to stand out from the crowd.
To think, humans unerringly believed angels were oh-so superior and devoid of things like jealousy, pride, and ego.
Lucifer spat.
The Hierarchy was a bunch of pompous, bitchy high school cheerleaders and jocks. The popular kids. The bullies who hid behind their status. Because they could do no wrong in their father's eyes, they got away with everything.
Except for him.
All because he wanted to be different.
Bastards.
What's wrong with individuality? We shouldn't all be the same.
Diversity was why he loved, and hated, humanity so much.
Lucifer used his anger and resentment to bolster his strength.
The door to his chambers opened, letting in the faint scent of sunshine and apples. He sat up to glare at the intruder. "Idras? Did Lord Satan send you to torment me or are you here to slip a dagger between my ribs?" Was it his imagination or did she look distressed by his jab? Bah! The bitch would need emotions first. "What say you?" His voice rumbled like boulders racing down a mountain, shaking the walls.
"I came to see how you were fairing. Things have been so boring around here without you." The Seer plucked her gossamer gown, removing invisible lint. A sign Lucifer learned long ago meant she hid the truth. Or wanted to distract him since the imaginary nuisance was just above her perky breasts.
Lucifer searched her eyes. There was more there than her usual fire. Something almost... soft? He wasn't buying it. "Yes I'm sure you were greatly entertained as his Lordship peeled the skin from my body and crushed my bones time and time again." He ran a hand over his new hair. Was it still black? He needed to find a mirror.
"I was referring to your little project." She huffed, her voice tinted with hurt.
He shook his head. He read too much into her. Idras, Seer of old and favorite of Satan second only to him, was Lucifer's rival, his enemy. Yet... "Humph. I understand the portals are open again and that demons are once again making mischief and hunting for the soul-keepers of my once illustrious brothers even without direction."
"Well—" She hesitated, and walked about the chamber, carefully stepping around debris. The demons who entertained themselves day after day continuing Lucifer's torment made a right mess of the place. Priceless antiques destroyed beyond recognition, treasures ground to dust, irreplaceable books and scrolls torn to shreds, his throne in shambles. "The skratar couldn't wait to get out when the first portal opened. We didn't even need to tell them where to hunt. They took off with a few others—"
"We?" Lucifer pushed to his feet, growling at the pain shooting across his body.
"Yes. A few of your loyal minions thought to take the opportunity to move up in ranks by taking over your hunt."
"How were you involved?"
"I was keeping them in line. Knocking them down a peg or two when they got too full of themselves." She preened.
Lucifer eyed her with renewed suspicion. Was she waiting for a pat on the head and a gold star? "Why would you do that for me?"
"Because, I prefer the devil I know to the pandering sycophants you collect. I would rather keep you as a frenemy than have to start cultivating a new one. We have a history, you and I. Besides, we are the same. We are the only First Ones of any power left here."
"Frenemy?"
"Friendly enemies," she clarified. "You are so out of touch with the modern world. It means we understand each other even if we don't like each other."
"Honestly, female, you are the last creature in creation I understand at all."
She made an indignant snort. "I understand your lust for power above all things."
"What do you lust for, Seer?'
Idras turned away from him. Was it his imagination or did a slight blush color her cheeks?
"My desires are my own concern," she finally replied. "You should be more concerned with getting back in his Lordship's good graces than worrying about my motives."
"I know your motives, bitch. You wish to see me removed from my post so that you can take over."
"As if." She did her best Valley Girl impression, complete with eye roll, then sobered, rubbing her arms as if taken over by a chill. "I mean, why would I want your job? Already I walk a razor's edge in his court."
"How so?"
"My visions are in such flux now that I can't see clearly. The prophecy." She shrugged. "I'm not even sure if it's worth pursuing anymore."
"Perhaps if you tell me what you prophesied all those ages ago, I can make the call on that." Lucifer's glare bored into her.
Turning on him, she snarled. "Don't you understand? It wouldn't matter what was said millennia ago, I can't tell what's happening now."
"You've lost your Sight?"
"No. Not exactly. It's just that too much is changing too quickly to determine which path we are on. Which path any of us is on."
"Would the same be true for your sisters?" Lucifer picked through the debris until he came up with a broken blood wine bottle with some liquid still inside. Tilting his head back, he poured the rancid wine down his throat.
"I've told you before, I don't have any contact with my sisters. Lol is still missing and reportedly deceased— but don't think that's true —and Niace is still in hiding in some corner of Heaven avoiding everyone." She made a dismissive wave of her hand. "But yes, I would presume they are experiencing the same troubles. It's how it is with us. We each see the same visions. It's in how each of us interprets them, for good, for evil, or for man that makes us different."
Grunting acknowledgement, Lucifer tore free a curtain hanging from a broken rod and wrapped it around his waist, unwilling to
remain naked in front of the Seer any longer. Her long stares combined with hints from her supple figure beneath her translucent Grecian dress made his weakened body respond in ways he did not appreciate. "As usual, you are useless to me."
"You ungrateful..." Her porn star pout vanished when the Seer's demon flashed across her features. "If not for me, you would still be wallowing in your own blood and filth!"
While Lucifer admitted, if only to himself, he had no recollection what happened between his failed attempt to possess the Fallen Angel and waking, he couldn't believe Idras in some way cared for him. The thought was simply ridiculous... Yet here he stood, semi clean and healing. "Explain yourself."
Regaining her composure, Idras flounced to the bed, pretty much the last piece of intact furniture, and sat. "I told you—"
"No. You said you kept my minions in line. But you said nothing of caring" —he almost choked on the word— "for me."
"Care for you." Her voice rose an octave. Idras shot to her feet, fist tightly clenched at her sides. "I do not care for you! I have no feelings for you what so ever!"
Now wasn't that interesting? Lucifer cocked an eyebrow. "I meant that you nursed me."
"That's not exactly—" She turned away. "I—" With a growl, the Seer stormed toward the door. "I should not have to explain myself to the likes of you."
Lucifer caught her by the wrist. In his weakened state, she could easily break free, but made no attempt. However, she did not turn to face him when he spoke. "You will explain or you will not leave here." He let the threat hang between them. Her body shook against his. Slowly, he released his grip. "I will not be in debt to you. I know whatever aid you gave me was for your own benefit."
The Seer's shoulders dipped, her posture reflecting a sense of hurt, but not defeat.
"Of course it was for my benefit," she snapped. "Like you don't use me." Turning, she rearranged her gown. "I came here to propose a deal, but if all you want to do is pick a fight, I'll come back when you're in a better humor."
"Propose away." Lucifer picked up crumpled remains of his favorite gold goblet and sighed. "I could use a laugh."
