by Dianna Hardy
He reached his hand out in a gentle manner that belied the monster he had been since the dawn of mankind.
The gorilla tensed.
The angel nodded his head, almost imperceptibly.
After a moment of dubiety, inquisitiveness (or was it trust?) evidently won the day. The animal put one arm forward, knuckle-down on the ground, and then another.
“I wonder who curiosity will claim as its first victim: the primate that has no idea what it’s dealing with, or the fairy that wishes she did.”
Morgana hurled a murderous look at the one who simultaneously protected her and annoyed her. “You overstep your boundaries, Lucifer.”
“My apologies, dear Goddess, but you are needed elsewhere.” He glanced at the previous ruler of Hell, bemused. “Dian Fossey, step aside… What in God’s name is he doing?”
“God has no place here anymore,” she whispered.
“Clearly,” scoffed the angel. “The world’s gone insane and Abaddon fits in quite nicely.”
“It’s not that bad.” But her voice quavered over the lie that she stubbornly wished was true.
“For the humans, no. Lucky bastards. Of all the beings equipped to deal with an apocalypse, guess which ones would have lost the vote? And yet, it’s the humans who flourish, while the rest of us try to cope with the loss of our powers.”
That new, and fast becoming familiar, sense of asphyxiation grabbed hold of her as anxiety set in.
Anxiety.
Now there’s a feeling she never thought she’d have the great misfortune to get to know. But ‘feelings’ appeared to be the norm now.
It had seemed so simple: end God’s reign; take back her beloved world.
Except it wasn’t your world anymore, was it?
“Everything’s different now,” stated Lucifer.
The cold hand of suffocation increased it grip around her throat.
Yes, everything was different. She had thought that when the veil between dimensions fell, that she would be home once more. What hadn’t occurred to her, and she had no idea why, was that they would all be falling into the human world.
Humans reigned. Not her. It was their home, and she had had to succumb to the metaphysical laws of humans. Human ‘emotions’ penetrated her core; human vulnerability had lessened all her powers – infiltrated all the majesty of who she was, all that she had been – and not just her, but all the fay, demons and now fallen angels. Yes, they all walked the Earth, but the Earth was not theirs. Dimensions had merged, and so, it seemed, had their abilities. The humans had tapped into their hidden potential, exuding powers they had no idea how to control, and all other sentinel beings were struggling to maintain theirs.
And still the Dragon had not risen.
And all dimensions will bleed into one.
She had thought that ‘one’ would be hers – her old home. Not the human dimension as it is now.
Lucifer’s breath brushed across her ear from where he knelt behind her. “What were you expecting?”
She turned towards him, furious he could tell what she was thinking. “Don’t pretend you knew any better.”
He smiled that infuriating smile of his, and brought up yet another apple to his lips – a habit of his that was more like an addiction.
She clamped down on her urge to scream when he bit into it. “Do something useful with your time,” she hissed, keeping her voice down in case Abaddon caught onto their voyeurism.
“Like you are?”
“It’s important that we know his whereabouts. He’s unpredictable.”
“Yet you’ve always revered him.”
“I remember him, Lucifer. I remember who he was in the very beginning, before—”
“You’re a poor liar in the human world, my Goddess.” His eyes gleamed with the secrets she knew he had – she’d always known it – but it had bothered her less before the Bleeding. Now, paranoia was one of those pesky human states of mind that she battled with. What did he know, exactly? How many layers did his knowledge cut through? Were the secrets he kept from her detrimental to her survival?
Survival? But I’m immortal…
She no longer felt immortal, even though no weapon, nor time, could kill her. Immortality was measured by your strengths, and all she’d felt recently was weak. “You don’t know—”
“I know he’s the greatest sin-eater ever known to any world. His food was weighed by the beating hearts of mortals, his drink was their life-blood – the blacker it ran, the more nourished he became – and his household was every murky soul between Heaven and Hell. The only difference now is that there is no Heaven and Hell. Do you think he would love you, Morgana? He loves nothing because he can’t. Every dark place he visits, he is bound by duty to devour.”
She shook at his words – at the anger they instilled in her; at the humiliation they mustered in her. Was she that transparent? She never used to be… “He is no longer bound.”
“You’re a fool if you think he can be the angel he once was. ‘Some sins are ingrained so deeply, the taint will never wash’ – not my words, but his. I’m sure you remember them since you were there with me – two flies on the wall in those final moments.
“He’ll find your dark places, Morgana, and he’ll eat you up and spit you out, unless… ” his eyes darkened impossibly, because they were already coal-black to start with… “that’s what you want.”
She turned away from his void-like gaze, but he gripped her chin and turned her to face him. Stupidly, she let him – because Morgan le Fey was weak now. “Is that what you want, my Goddess?” He trailed the tips of his fingers down her chin; down her neck … down… “Do you want him to find your dark places, eat you up, and spit you out?”
She swatted his hand away with feigned nonchalance. “You overstep your boundaries, Lucifer,” she repeated.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, all boundaries are gone. And I’m hurt,” he pouted, right after biting the apple core in half. “We are not strangers to each other’s desires.”
“In moments of need; in moments of fun … never in moments of anything more.”
He sighed. “Countless millennia, and your compassion still evades me.”
She snorted out a laugh. “Compassion? You? Come now … your motivations for living are not based on the giving and receiving of such a whimsical thing.”
His pout grew into a hard smile. “And nor have yours ever been … until now.”
They both glanced towards Abaddon once more, who was now stroking the gorilla like it was a harmless little puppy.
What an odd site.
And yet, strangely normal, because it was Abaddon and not anyone else.
“I do not seek compassion, nor love,” stated Morgana, her voice hushed.
“Liar,” whispered Lucifer. “From the first moment you saw him birthed – God’s first angel – you were lost to him.”
“You were not even a thought that had manifested then. What would you know?”
“Watch, my Goddess.” The both of them still kneeling, Lucifer crept in close behind her until he cradled her back with his chest. His right hand found the curve of her small waist and he stroked her there gently, not an act of care, but of conniving. Everything with Lucifer had a hidden agenda – it was one of the reasons she despised him, but also the very reason she admired him. His calculations and often ruthless ways had given her the needed means to take back what was hers. Unfortunately, those same traits had infiltrated her being and moulded her into a hardened version of herself. She had never been this cold … once.
Indirectly, the one most people knew as Satan reminded her of a time when she had been so much more warm; so much more innocent – the irony was not lost on her.
Lucifer tightened his hold above her hip, bringing her back to the present. “Watch … and see how fallen your favourite angel still is.”
It happened so quickly, she barely registered it: a flash of white teeth; movement so fast it was only a blur; buffeted blac
k wings; a roar – tremendous, yet brief – that filled the landscape … and Abaddon had his fangs embedded in the gorilla’s artery, its large flailing body emitting no sound because the angel knew exactly where to strike.
With a gasp, Morgana turned away from the sight, leaning back into Lucifer and hating herself for it. It was a testament to how much control he had over her – how much she had had to depend on him for events to unfold as they did. The fact that now, after it all, she could not disentangle herself from his web – one she had helped him to build – was a thorn in her side.
“Does nature’s pain feel greater, or less, in this brand new world, my fairy queen?”
“You bastard,” she breathed, her voice trembling with the hit. The life-force of Tír na nÓg ran through all of the fay and through the invisible matrix that breathed energy into the cosmos. Tír na nÓg had been what came before Heaven and Hell, God being the one who had moulded it into Heaven. When a small piece of Heaven – Eden – fell to become Earth, it had brought some of the essence of Tír na nÓg with it, and all things sprung of the Earth since were connected to Tír na nÓg by default: the wild life, the plant life, and so on. All of the fay felt the connection in a very physical way – more so than any other being – for they were made from Tír na nÓg itself. She could tell you where a forest fire was brewing, or where a thunderstorm dominated the skies, because she felt what the Earth felt. All fairies did.
Right now, she felt the Silverback’s shock and demise as if it were her own; Abaddon’s teeth sinking into her own neck…
She moaned and turned her head further into Lucifer’s chest.
Fingers circled over the material of her dress, low down across her abdomen. “He’s hungry, Morgana, but know this: he chose to feed in this way. He long ago mastered the craving for blood. He doesn’t need it – he wants it.”
“And if I offered you my vein right now, would you turn away from it?”
His eyes glinted with dark desire as his canines emerged at her words alone.
Morgana fought back her queasiness, the draining life force of the primate still calling to her, and let out a bitter laugh. “No, I didn’t think so. Know this, Lucifer: I will never offer you my blood and you will never take from me or any fay. That was the oath you made, all that time ago, when you chose to fall into my arms like the inquisitive babe you were.” She knew it frustrated him. Of all the beings in the world to drink from, fairies were off-limits to him and the only blood he would never know, and it angered him because the fay were older than him – ancient. That meant they had knowledge and power he had yet to tap into. She was pretty certain it was the reason they were still in alliance as opposed to enemies: she had something he wanted – he just didn’t know how to get it.
All angels since the beginning, whether fallen or not, had one thing in common: they never broke their oaths.
Lucifer retracted his teeth, but his body had unmistakeably hardened against hers. “I remember my promise, my Goddess … but do you remember yours?”
How could she forget? She had refused him the blood of the fay when he’d fallen – and his thirst for blood had certainly been unquenchable – but he had a thirst for something else that consumed him much more: the thirst for knowledge. That, she had not denied him, and he took it in every way he could, for knowledge was power as far as Lucifer was concerned, and in recent millennia, he had increasingly become drunk on it.
And it was the heady rush of its consumption, probably not helped by her teasing him with her blood, that had him pulling her down to ground now.
“We have not … celebrated … our unique partnership since the Bleeding three weeks ago.” He brushed the tip of her breast through her dress and she bit her lip.
By The Fates!
No they hadn’t, and she had refused him more than once, too uncertain of her physical reactions in this very physical dimension she was now merged with.
“Feels different, doesn’t it?” He squeezed the pebbled nipple that decorated her small mound. “Stronger, better, just … more…”
A rush of liquid heat soared through her veins and she bit her lip to muffle her moan. How dare he bring this out in her – make her feel such … things.
She grabbed his wrist. “Wait. Not here. Not in—”
His mouth crushed hers as his large body locked into her small frame, his tongue probing her lips, demanding entry and lapping up her protestation.
Not in front of Abaddon! That had been her unfinished sentence and he damn well knew it.
“I shouldn’t worry what he’d think of you,” he mumbled as he traced his tongue across her cheek, to her ear. “It couldn’t be less.”
“You callous, degenerate—Ahhhh…”
His fingers between her legs lit a fuse, and fire spiralled along the trail of that liquid heat flooding her veins.
“By God, you feel good; so fucking good in this world. And you taste good, too.” He licked the crook of her neck, the point of his tooth scraping her skin, and she froze in fear.
Fear.
Never had she felt it before, not once. How, in the name of all things sacred, did humans live like this day after day?
With unnerving clarity she realised she was going to have to climb the mother of all mountains to conquer her unexpected vulnerabilities and win her rulership back. And she had to start now – with Lucifer.
Tightening her resolve, she reached up and wove her fingers through his black hair. She moaned deliberately in his ear and rocked herself against his hand, heightening her pleasure. She felt him tense in surprise and inside she laughed to herself, dryly. How many countless moments had she spent observing mortal women from afar – watching them use their sex in such ways; selling themselves piece by piece at a time … now she understood. Now she saw the raw need behind such actions; the climb for power.
With her mind, she conjured a shield between Abaddon and themselves. Let Lucifer enjoy thinking Abaddon might spy them – it wasn’t her game, but he needn’t know that.
Oh, yes, my insidious liege – I’ll be keeping secrets of my own.
Beneath them, the ground shook and rumbled, as it had been doing persistently all over the planet for the past three weeks. It brought steel to her belly; conviction to her bones. The Dragon was preparing for flight, and once it rose, the new era would truly begin. She had not come all this way to fall prey to her fragilities.
“Lucifer … know me.”
The fallen angel needed no other instruction. For him, those two words were the magic key that cut through all sense. The hunt for knowledge was destroying him, he just didn’t know it yet – so much irony in the new world.
“Know me,” she pleaded, again, and he groaned low and long as he bunched her dress up around her waist and entered her. He had always been a determined and driven lover, ordering his body the way he ordered his mind, both of them searching for whatever ‘truth’ was promised. Today was no different – he pounded her into the soft terrain; tall, dewy grass swaying above them. What was different, was that today, the grass smelt ten times stronger – delicious and sweet; the mud under it, earthy and dense. And the ache inside her where Lucifer struck, cavernous beyond all her understanding.
“You’re amazing,” he moaned, as his thrusts grew more urgent. “You feel so real. Come for me, Morgana, my Goddess … let me feel you come … for … mmm…”
His wings shot outwards, the golden underside shimmering above her and such a contrast to the deep red that coloured the tops of them.
She felt everything inside her tighten, as if she were the sea bringing its own tide in, and in, and in…
Release was coming; she knew it and both longed for it and dreaded it … but in the end, it was not Lucifer’s uncompromising bearing that unravelled her. It was the tremors reaching her from the core of the Earth. The awakening Dragon awoke her, and as the most powerful, three-dimensional orgasm of her immortal life stole over her body, she dug her fingernails into the soil beneath her and too
k strength from that fact. She came for the beast that promised her freedom.
The Dragon could rule over her.
Lucifer never would.
~*~
His gut felt eviscerated. Maybe his body was eating itself. Would that be better or worse than giving in to the bloodlust? He didn’t know, but he hadn’t succumbed to it yet, unlike every other angel that had fallen.
But he wasn’t an archangel for nothing. If he didn’t uphold some kind of morality, then who would?
Sounded noble, didn’t it? Still … his head pounded with the threat of his very first migraine ever. He suspected he would need to feed soon…
Pushing the disturbing thought away, he wandered further into the hillside cave in search of the only hope that anyone had left.
He found him a few metres away, sitting by the still pool. A small opening in the cave ceiling allowed the moon to shine silver on part of the water. It was so serene. Beautiful even. Almost worthy of Heaven itself.
Michael’s heart sagged with loss. “My Lord,” he said in greeting.
The man who used to be God, stared at him briefly with blank eyes, the low light doing nothing to dissipate the eeriness, and then he went back to surveying the water.
Michael cleared his throat. “My Lord, I brought you some food.” He tightened his hold on the boar’s hind legs and dragged the still warm carcass forward. “I took great care so that the blood would not spill too much – it’s as fresh as a dead animal can be.”
Silence.
Michael sighed. His whole being ached and his digestive tract screamed at him. How ironic that he was trying so hard to convince his Lord to feed on blood when he, himself, refused.
But he wasn’t sure how long they’d be here, or how much wildlife there was in the surrounding mountains. Better he go insane than the Creator. “My Lord—”
“Don’t.”
The archangel exhaled in relief. It was the first time he’d spoken since the Bleeding. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t call me that. I am no longer your Lord.”
