by Ching, G. P.
“I see you are expecting me,” he rasped. His voice held the sizzle of Hell and his breath the hint of brimstone. Fatima covered her mouth and nose with her hand.
“Say what you came to say,” God said. Her glow increased, pressing his darkness back toward the wall.
He blinked rapidly, and then shifted his eyes downward, smoothing his perfectly tailored suit. “I demand a consequence.”
“State your reasoning.”
“Your immortal has broken the law. She has created a Soulkeeper of her own will, and disrupted the balance by sending that soul to attack me in my own dominion.”
“Were you not also to blame, Lucifer? Did you not break our agreement first? Even now, I sense your minions on Earth, in clear violation.”
He gave a half smile and slid his hands into his pockets, pacing toward the archway to the veranda. “No. I did nothing of the sort.”
“You lie.”
“Yes, I do. It is my nature, and as such, it should be expected. I am entitled to a consequence, and I will not back down until I have my just due.”
God approached him, the air crackling with her presence. The back of Lucifer’s head glowed brassy in her light. “Very well. What is your suggested price?”
“My price is Fate. She has been in her position far too long. I will choose her replacement, and she will step down.”
“No!” Fatima yelled, her hands flying to cover her foolhardy mouth. Why had she allowed her true feelings to show? Now he’d be even more likely to use those feelings against her.
He turned the force of his stare on her, laughing through a toothy half smile. “Oh yes, Fatima. Perhaps, I will not only choose your replacement but take your soul as my own.” In a blink, he was in her face, his hand on the small of her back. Her skin squirmed beneath his touch. “You are a beautiful sinner. Hell could use an ornament such as you.”
“Let her go.” A wash of cool light poured through the room, and Lucifer retreated, joints folding unnaturally in his haste for the shadows. “The Watchers who reside on Earth negate your ability to make such a demand. You are in breach of the law, Lucifer. You must return your minions to Nod or Hell.”
“Or what?” Lucifer carefully slithered into the shadow of a bolt of fabric where his eyes could open fully.
“Or the compact is rendered null and void.”
“War.” The word rolled off his tongue, smooth as melted butter.
God rubbed her chin. “As ever, you are cunning, Lucifer, and perhaps it is time that your superior intelligence is rewarded.” She circled right, eyeing him from head to toe as she passed the upright bolts of woven human history. “Instead of exacting your revenge on a peasant girl turned Fate, would you consider a wager for something more?”
“More?” Lucifer narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed again and again, salivating at the thought of more.
“Our covenant is ancient and worthless, but human hearts must be ruled. Do you agree it is time for a new covenant?”
Lucifer rubbed his hands together. “How will the terms be decided?”
“By human hearts.” God snapped her fingers. “If you will follow me outside, I will propose a change.”
Fatima and Lucifer trailed the supreme deity out onto the veranda and then into Fate’s yard. Above the swell of a grassy green knoll at the back of her territory, an angel descended from the heavens. A blinding aura surrounded the winged woman, her dark hair rippling against her white toga-like dress. When her toes touched down, her flesh hardened from the feet up, white marble swallowing her to the tips of her outstretched wings. The angel looked familiar to Fate, like Themis, a human depiction of justice embodied, only this living statue had wings. Blindfolded, the angel held scales in one hand and a crystal model of Earth in the other.
“We need witnesses.” Another snap of God’s fingers and Henry and Mara appeared beside Fate, flustered and confused. When they saw the second Fatima, realization dawned slowly, confusion followed by terror. They fell to their knees in the grass.
“Rise, Mara. Rise, Henry. We need your help.”
Henry nodded, staggering to his feet. Mara reached for his hand, and he helped her stand.
“Lucifer,” God said, turning her full attention on the walking stain on the countryside that was the devil. “This scorekeeper holds in her hand a model of the world. Stare into the depths of this crystal, and tell me what you see.”
Lucifer approached cautiously and stared into the translucent orb. “Pinpoints of light and darkness.”
“You see human hearts. Some are aligned with me, appearing as points of light, and some are aligned with you, appearing as points of darkness. As you can see, at the moment, the scales are slightly tipped in your favor.” God flourished her hand in front of the dark plate of the left side of the scale.
“They appear to be. Get to the point, Oppressor. What is your wager?”
“First, we abolish the compact.”
Fate, Time, and Death gasped at the thought. Fatima reached for Mara’s free hand, her other firmly in Henry’s grip. All three immortals stood connected in their horror. Fatima trusted God, but this was terrifying. None of them had lived in a world without an agreement between good and evil. Her stomach twisted. Lucifer already had the advantage. The scales tipped in his favor. Without the compact, what would keep him at bay?
“And then?” Lucifer prompted.
“We compete for the hearts of men,” God said.
Lucifer narrowed his eyes against her light. “Compete how?”
“You release six temptations unto the world, and I release six gifts.” She held out her hand toward the statue. “The scorekeeper will record human alignment with good or evil. When the last gift or temptation has come to pass, the challenge will be over and whomever has won the most souls will rule Earth.”
“And the other?”
“Banished from contact with humanity for one thousand years. Hark, Lucifer, there will be no cheating this banishment. Should you lose, you will be sealed within Hell for the entire epoch.”
Lucifer began to pace in front of the scorekeeper, checked her crystal, and then checked again. “It’s a trick. You would not risk so many souls.”
“No trick. Six temptations verses six gifts. You have the advantage. A few of your minions are already living among men, men they’ve influenced to do your will.”
“If the compact is dissolved, all of my Watchers can remain above ground?”
“Of course! If the compact is no more, they can journey wherever they wish.”
Lucifer tilted his chin up and smiled viciously. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. But the Watchers are still bound by the natural order of things. The sun will dull their powers. The night will strengthen them.”
“They will kill to remain strong.”
“No compact. No rules.”
“Besides the natural laws,” Lucifer lamented.
“Yes. All humans have free will. Earth’s natural resources have limits. Sunlight gives my souls an advantage, darkness, yours. I can be everywhere at once; you can only be in one place at a time. This is how it has always been and always will be.”
Lucifer gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of agreement.
“And one more thing, humans must choose you of their free will. I know you’ve poisoned the water. Influenced humans are incapable of choosing. They are merely your puppets. If we are to do this, any souls you or your Watchers influence will be deemed neutral.”
Lucifer scowled. “Only six temptations and no influencing free will? Bah.”
“Only six gifts and you already have the advantage.”
While Fatima held her breath, Lucifer stared at the scales, slightly tipped in his favor. She couldn’t decide which was worse, a Fate chosen by Lucifer or the potential to have a world ruled by him. The devil seemed to be weighing his options.
“Are you afraid, Lucifer? Should I take your hesitation as an adm
ission of my greater power?” God’s voice echoed with a deep hollow tenor that didn’t fit her current appearance.
Lucifer growled, his face reddened with anger. “I am the more powerful! I accept your challenge and claim the right to go first. Do you agree?”
God beamed, flooding the hillside with light. “I do agree.” She offered her right hand. “In the presence of these three witnesses, the challenge for human souls begins now. Winner take all for one thousand years.”
“Agreed.” Lucifer slapped his hand into God’s. The connection created a sonic boom that flattened Fatima and the other immortals to the grass. The sound rippled outward, visible in the blue sky of the In Between, and a shockwave plowed through the cells of her body. No, she thought, not just my body but also my weaving. The future had changed. The universe had changed. She was witness to an agreement that might end life as she knew it.
God retracted her hand. She turned toward the crystal Earth in the scorekeeper’s grip. “The world awaits you, Lucifer.”
He backed up a few steps, a wicked laugh bubbling from deep within. “This is going to be fun.” He came apart in a rush of black fog that passed over them and straight into the villa. Where is he going?
Fatima jolted at a strange and painful sensation in her abdomen. A thread had been plucked from her body and her weaving. Frantically, she patted her stomach, retrieving her work from deep within. He’d taken something from her. When he’d blown out of the In Between, he’d taken someone. Yes, that was it. A soul was missing. But who? What human being was important enough to steal from the fabric of history?
“You know who,” God said as she broke apart and blended into the light.
Fatima scrambled to her feet, Mara and Henry cursing at her side in their own pursuit of vertical. One by one they stepped to the scorekeeper and watched the light and the dark dance within the globe.
“Who did he take, Fatima?” Henry asked.
“I can’t be certain. There are so many souls.”
“You know,” Mara said. “She said you know.”
Fatima swallowed and raised a hand to the base of her neck. “There is only one person I can think of who is a constant reminder of Lucifer’s failures. She is the only one who has denied him time and time again. Her life is a testament to God’s grace and mercy.”
Henry glanced at Mara, who looked off into space as if reading the stars. The immortals said the name together, in perfect unison. “Abigail.”
Chapter 2
Abigail
Dr. Abigail Silva-Newman tried to be careful. After all, the people of Paris believed her to be in California, not emerging from a trap door in the backroom of the Laudners’ flower shop. She listened for any sign of activity above her before turning the crank to open the passageway and slipping silently onto the marble floor. As she resealed the entryway to Eden, she heard voices out front, John Laudner and Stephanie Westcott, something about flowers for a barn dance.
Hastily, she tiptoed to the delivery entrance, peering out the small square window in the door to check that the alley was clear. With no one in sight, she cracked the door and stealthily crept behind the delivery van and then the dumpster. Curse this human form, so vulnerable. In her days as a fallen angel, she would simply twist into shadow and deliver herself where she wanted to go through a channel of darkness. Getting there one step at a time was nothing short of tedious. Still, she wouldn’t have given up her humanity for any price. Not after waiting ten thousand years to obtain it.
But she had to go. Malini needed her. All of the Soulkeepers needed her. When Jacob said Malini and Dane were back from Nod but needed help, she’d assumed the mission to Arizona to bring them home would be quick work. With hardly a word of explanation, all of the Soulkeepers had left Eden to assist. Only, Malini’s call to Abigail over Warwick’s blue stone seemed desperate. Something had gone horribly wrong with the rescue mission, and Abigail was the only one left to save them. Well, aside from Gideon, and she wasn’t about to place her beloved’s life at risk.
On her toes, Abigail rounded the corner of the building, and thanked the heavens for what she saw. Parked on the corner of Asher and Main Street, Stephanie Westcott’s scooter waited unattended, keys in the ignition. In any other city, the arrangement would have invited a theft, but as far as Abigail was aware, there’d never been a vehicle stolen in Paris despite the population’s regular habit of leaving car doors unlocked with the keys inside. Who would steal it? Everyone trusted everyone else. They left the keys on purpose, in case some other citizen might need them in an emergency. Well, as a former citizen of Paris, she accepted Stephanie’s hospitality.
Abigail tossed a leg over the seat and turned the key. The small motor revved to life and she pulled away from the curb, heading up Asher in the opposite direction of Main Street, a roundabout detour to Rural Route One.
“Hey!” Stephanie yelled from behind her.
She glanced back to see the girl whose life she once saved standing on the corner, waving her arms. Abigail didn’t stop. She prayed that speed and distance would conceal her identity. Certainly, she was dressed differently than Stephanie would remember: blonde hair in a ponytail, yoga pants, T-shirt, and an oversized belted sweater-coat that barely defended her against the fall chill. She’d return Stephanie’s scooter eventually, but right now Abigail needed it more.
After an uneventful cruise up the rural road she once traveled regularly, Abigail abandoned the scooter at the edge of the maple grove that used to be hers. Across the street, the Laudners’ cheery yellow Cape Cod hadn’t changed since her days living here, but where her dark Victorian once stood rose a repainted version in pale tones with brightly colored flowers blooming in baskets outside the windows. The house was a bed and breakfast now.
Jogging into the trees, over the gently sloping terrain toward the place her back garden used to be, Abigail had a moment to think. Anxiety over the mission to Nod had left her careless, reactionary. Why had Malini wanted to meet here of all places? Surely if the Healer could come this far, she could make it to Eden. Much more likely this was a trap. Perhaps Lucifer had already captured the Soulkeepers and was luring her to her doom.
She halted, placed her hands on her hips, and tipped her face to take in the blazing red of the maple leaves above her. Rushing into this was a mistake. She needed a plan. Bending, she touched the hilt of the knife in her boot, the one weapon she’d brought from Eden. Would she be strong enough, fast enough, to face a Watcher in her human form?
Curse this mortal body, she would not. She should have thought this through before she left Eden, but her desire to help—no, to be useful—drove her toward impulsive behavior. Lucky for her, it wasn’t too late to err on the side of caution. She turned and strode back toward the road and the scooter. She’d go back to Eden, get Gideon, and make a plan for recovering the Soulkeepers. There had to be a better way.
“Hello, Abigail.” The velvet smooth voice lassoed her shoulders, stopping her short.
She turned to face her enemy. At first the man’s attire, a double-breasted suit with Italian loafers, threw her. Very human. Then she noticed his eyes matched the deep navy blue, almost purple color of his tie. A Watcher, for sure. Human beings didn’t have eyes that color or noses that straight. He twisted the gold, lion’s head ring on his manicured finger.
Lucifer was the Lord of Illusions, and his followers boasted similar talents, but under it all, Abigail knew the Watcher’s skin and blood were black as tar. “How is your illusion so strong during the day?” she spat nervously. Distraction was her only hope.
“Well fed.”
“Who are you? I deserve to know who Lucifer sent for me.”
“You don’t remember me, Abigail? That hurts. We were once very close.”
A deadly smile crossed his full lips, and he smoothed a hand over his meticulously styled black hair. Abigail tried to place his voice, but in her human form, all she could sense was the illusion. Worse, the smell of freshly baked cinnamon
rolls had filled the maple grove. His sorcery drew her in, a fly to the spider’s web. The smell triggered a memory of a long-ago day, before Lucifer had become jealous of God and led the Watchers to fall from grace.
This Watcher had chosen an illusion not far from his appearance as an angel. Abigail shook her head. Lucifer must be serious about her capture to send his right hand man. “Cord.”
He took a step closer. “Good girl. I see your senses haven’t completely dulled with your humanity. Now come. Lucifer is waiting.”
Abigail took a step back, dropping into the fighting stance Lillian had taught her. She wasn’t completely defenseless. She’d learned the martial arts basics Lillian insisted all of them learn. Cord took another step toward her, and she whipped her knife from her boot. “I think it’s you who have lost your senses, Cord, if you think for a second I’m coming with you willingly.”
Straightening his shirt at the cufflinks, he stepped even closer, so that her blade was mere inches from his chest. He arched a brow and looked down at her pitifully. “A knife, Abigail?” He chuckled.
She didn’t waste time defending the virtues of the knife. With everything she had, she attempted to use the element of surprise to her advantage and stabbed underhanded at his gut. The knife cut through the suit jacket, but Cord’s hand snatched her wrist before the blade could penetrate his flesh. Still, the point smoked ominously against his black skin.
“Ah!” Abigail squirmed under the pressure on her wrist bones. She kicked and clawed, pounded on Cords arms and chest. An attempt to sweep his legs at the knee failed miserably. Recovering, she kicked him as hard as she could in the balls.
He extended his arm. She was a moth dangling from his fingers by the wing. “From Eden I presume,” he growled, staring at her useless knife. “This might have done some real damage if you weren’t so humanly slow. Is that any way to treat an old friend?”
Harder. Tighter. Abigail was sure he was crushing her bones. She cried out, and the knife tumbled into the fallen leaves at her feet.
