by Dianna Hardy
She almost wished she hadn’t said a word, the wound on his countenance wide open for once … hell, her own wounds had seeped open at her little speech. But saying nothing, when one should say everything, only led to further pain – she’d learnt that the hard way.
Lucifer might not have learnt it at all. He stayed quiet, staring out into the night, London at 1 a.m. eerily dead when it would normally still be thriving.
She sighed, and turned to head back inside. “I need my sleep. Alone.”
“She wasn’t supposed to be there.”
Katherine stopped in her tracks and stared at his back reflected in the glass doors.
“She looked so out of place. Humans didn’t quite shine like angels, but she did. Her hair gleamed like the purest gold, her blue eyes so wide and innocent; her smile lit up Eden so brightly that even if all angels had fallen from grace at once, she could have held up Heaven with her virtue alone. If I was the brightest of angels, she was the brightest of humans. Truly, she was one of God’s finest creations at a time when he still adored humans as any parent should adore their children, and if God had a favourite among humans, it was surely her.”
Katherine made her way back to his side, keeping a good three feet between them.
“I was patrolling The Boundary when I saw her. She stood on the other side in the very pit of darkness. I called her name, but she didn’t hear me. Instead, she was taken by something I couldn’t see; something that only the darkness could show.”
“Who are you talking about, Lucifer?”
He blinked once, as if he’d forgotten she was there.
Facing her, his entire visage was now cloaked in heavy sorrow. “Eve.”
He resumed staring at the empty streets below. “I shouldn’t have crossed The Boundary, I know I shouldn’t have, but I was taken with an urgency that came from the need to save her, although I didn’t know what from. All I knew was that she looked so out of place…
“I walked through the blackness and into the dark that occupied the other side. I had no intention of staying – get in, get her out. And then I saw what she was looking at: a red apple that hung from a low bearing tree.
“Something had changed in me in those few seconds it took to cross The Boundary. Where I was able to focus on my task so clearly before, my mind grew murky and I found myself curious, perhaps sidetracked, as to why the fruit intrigued her so. But it was not the fruit that held her: there was something else. I couldn’t make it out. From behind that apple tree, I caught a movement and a glimpse of a shadow … who would be here of all places? No one lived here.
“I called to Eve again to no avail – she was entranced, or bewitched.
“If my first mistake was to cross The Boundary, my second was to venture forward without looking where I was going. A sharp pain speared some part of me – I was a light-body then, not solid – and that was the first time I had ever felt pain.
“Shocked, I looked down to find that I could see my right foot all the way up to the knee, and blood trickled from twin wounds above my heel to the ground: snake bite. Not that I knew it at the time.
“The venom entered my system too fast for me to react to, let alone stop it, and everywhere the venom spread I became solid like a human, no longer a light being … But I did not completely take on the same form as humans. Scales grew on my skin as my blood ran cold with poison.
“It was then that Eve finally saw me with the apple now plucked and in her hand, and screamed my name in a warning that was far too late for either of us.
“I blacked out after that, the poison consuming me. When I awoke, it was to find … it was to find…” He cleared his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut. “It was to find her lying beneath my misshapen body. She was bloodied and hurting and I have no idea why – no memory of… I tried to take myself off her, but my arms were all but gone, nothing but scaled, muscled stumps that hung to my side. It was the very first instance in which I was aware of time, and I had no idea how much time had passed.
“‘It’s gone,’ said Eve. ‘Adam, Eden – it’s all gone. I just wanted to help. I made a mistake.'
“I didn’t know and never found out what she was referring to. With tears in her eyes, she held the apple up to my lips and said, ‘I wanted to find something I'd lost. This fruit shows you your deepest desires. It was Adam’s undoing, mine, and that of Eden, but it can be what saves you. Know yourself, Lucifer. Know your desires and know what mankind truly desires, or man will forever be lost because of my mistake. They have no one to guide them now. Be their light. Bite.’
“I didn’t think further on it because I was at the very end of all hope, and, despite it all, Eve’s eyes still held that purity that made her who she was – she was my last hope, and so bereft at whatever it was she had accidentally done.
“With what was left of my grotesque shape, I made my choice and sank my fangs into the apple. The world spun and spun. My last memory was of her body under mine and clear, blue eyes that rose beyond all hurt – untouchable – urging me to help humanity.
“This time when I woke, I was in the care of Morgan le Fey who had found me corporeal and in human form, and no longer in Heaven, but among humans in what was no longer Eden, but Earth – God had discarded both Eden and man. Time had passed down here – the planet had become populated. At first, I wondered how I had retained my immortality, how I had avoided entrapment in the dark of The Boundary, in the body of that snake … but my deepest desire as shown by that apple, it turned out, was to save Eve and have her find her place in grace once again, for I am certain she was wrongly accused of betrayal.
“I never did find her among the throng of population and I was dealing with my own problematic falling, the venom in my veins not gone, but always waiting to pull me into the dark I escaped from. The apples I eat keep me sane. Every time the pips seep their cyanide into my system, the murky snake is beaten and I see everything so clearly, and I am reminded of Eve’s sorrow and of my deepest desire, which is to save her. Although … the hit of clarity became an addiction as well as a cure. And saving Eve has become saving humanity, the human race the only representation of her that I have now.”
Lucifer turned to Katherine.
Her whole body was clenched, her fists tight around the balcony railings at the very rawness of his story. “Why did you tell me all this?”
“Because if this is my end, someone should know how I began. Look at me, Katherine.”
She did and caught her breath as he expanded his wings until they filled the space on the veranda, the tops of them crimson; the undersides of them an iridescent gold: Eve’s blood and the light of Heaven.
Katherine’s eyes stung with tears that instantly turned cold in the November wind.
“You’re right. Human degradation does feed a part of me – the dark part that leeches off the snake within – and I’ve fought it every day since Eden fell, sometimes successfully; more often, not. I’m no saint. But my deepest desire is to save humanity, because she asked me to, and also because…” his voice dropped to a whisper…“if humans can be guided into grace once more, then maybe, just maybe somewhere out there, Eve will find her way back to grace also.”
Her heart thudded in her ears. All this time and he was still trying to pull Eve out of the dark; still trying to correct a mission that he’d failed.
The haunted, black eyes that belonged to this dichotomy of a being, drank in the darkness of the night. “Do you see now? Even if it means my death, I will do everything in my power to make sure that Dragon rises – for humanity, and for her.”
Chapter Eighteen
To say Amy ‘awoke’ wasn’t entirely true, because she didn’t feel like she’d slept a wink.
Nevertheless, her bedside clock told her that she’d been out of it for two hours. It was now three o’clock in the morning.
With a struggle, she shrugged her covers off, then winced when the baby stirred inside her as she shuffled out of bed. “Sorry, little one –
although, you’re not really that little are you? I can’t just lie here if I can’t get back to sleep.”
She waddled out of the bedroom door, making her way to the fridge in the kitchen if only for the fact that food seemed like a legitimate reason to be wandering around in the early hours of the morning. She wasn’t particularly hungry right now.
Lucifer had beaten her to it, his head inside the cold unit.
What’s he still doing here?
“Can’t sleep?” she asked. “Do angels sleep?”
He didn’t even flinch at her voice. Guess he’s not surprised to see me.
“Fallen angels sleep; I can’t seem to manage it recently though.”
“Maybe you’ve fallen too far.”
He shut the fridge door and the light went out, plunging everything into darkness.
Fuck. Amy willed the lights on, and Lucifer was still by the fridge, staring at her in contemplation. “Maybe. And you?”
“Sleep? You try sleeping with a bowling ball in your belly.”
“Hmmph.” It was a derivative snort of sorts.
“Is … everyone else sleeping?”
“You’re asking me if Paul is back.”
It wasn’t a question and heat fired her cheeks. When had she become so bloody transparent?
“He’s not back. Elena left with the Brujii – not sure where – and Katherine teleported on out of here about an hour ago. Could have been something I said. We’re the only ones here, but your Dessec did leave you a note.”
She fidgeted with the back of a dining chair and met his eyes, anxiety already circling in her gut while that ache in her heart increased. “He did?” When had he done that?
Lucifer nodded to the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter, and there beside it was a single sheet of white note paper with large, heavy-handed writing scrawled over it.
Amy, please eat more. I didn’t see you touch a bite tonight. I really do love you. I haven’t left you. It needs to be this way. You need time, and it’s not the kind I can give you. I’ll be seeing you and our son soon.
Pueblo.
x
She let out a breath, left the note where it was and made her way around the counter to the fridge.
“There’s nothing in it,” said Lucifer. “Except for a few beers – Gwain’s I suspect.”
“What do you fancy? I could magic up a small banquet.”
“Sounds fun, but save your strength. Here.” He tossed her an apple and she caught it.
“What’s this for?” she frowned.
“Your confusion. That’s what you’re really hungry for, isn’t it? Clarity?”
She said nothing, staring at the shiny red fruit, and then staring at him.
“This will give me clarity?”
“It will show you your deepest desires, maybe even have them come true depending on the strength of your will. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To know what you really want instead of all the doubt and guilt that runs amok inside you. To successfully aid your child’s way in the world because you’re able to say that you know yours so well.” His eyes flickered a shade darker. “Think carefully, though, before biting it. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.”
The air grew thicker between them, and the apple in her hand felt like a grenade that might explode at any second. “Will it harm the baby?”
“No. The baby has his own destiny; will have his own choices and desires. Your will is not his.”
“Let me get this straight… You're offering me clarity, so I can choose the best future for my child? Freely?" she asked, the palm of her hand distractedly stroking the huge swell of her belly, her heart already feeling lighter with the promise of hope. Anything but this migraine-inducing confusion she'd been living with.
“Yes.”
“But you're asking me to consider turning away from your offer?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why would any mother walk away from that?”
Grabbing another apple from behind his back, he strode towards her, tossing it up and down with a careless ease. His eyes glinted in the shadows that gave depth to the night. "Because free will is unruly. Because free will's a bitch to conquer.” Lucifer stopped an inch in front of her, then lowered his head, whispering directly in her ear, “Because one man's free will, is another man's prison.”
She caught her breath and heard her heart pounding in her ears. She felt like a deer caught in headlights, but the anticipation of knowing what she so desperately needed to know was a sweet, sweet thing she could practically taste. “I don’t know if I should trust you,” she whispered, and it was the last of her common sense making sense. She could feel it slipping, though, even as she spoke. “The way you’re looking at me – it’s as if half of you is dying for me to eat this and the other half of you would be crushed if I did.”
He smiled a grim smile. “You know what it’s like, don’t you? To be so torn in two you can barely breathe…”
“Maybe this is your way of killing the baby, and therefore the Dragon.”
He held out his hand to her.
Caught in the web of dark intrigue, she took it.
He brought her palm up to his head. “Read my mind – know me.”
She did, letting her magic seep into his thoughts, entwining them with hers… Yes, he was telling the truth: her baby wouldn’t come to any harm from this. The apple would do exactly as he’d stated. “Why are you offering me this … help?”
“For my own selfish reasons. It’s a habit I find very hard to kick. I don’t know what your deepest desires are, but I want to watch them unfold.”
“You’re a bit of a voyeur?”
“Very much so.”
“If my desires are dangerous, you’ll enjoy watching me fall apart.”
He nodded, slowly.
“And if they’re relieving, you’ll enjoy watching me find peace?”
Again, he nodded.
“You’re a strange one.”
“Torn between light and dark, Amy. I shall leave you to think things over. Goodnight.”
He disappeared.
She glanced down at the apple in her hand.
Of all the stupid decisions she’d ever made, this one had to win. They weren’t just warning bells going off in her head, it was a brass band orchestra.
But you’ve been so stagnant, not able to make any decisions at all – at least this would be a step in a direction … any direction will do.
She placed the apple down next to the fruit bowl; next to Pueblo’s note. ‘You need time, and it’s not the kind I can give you.’
Would a bite of the apple do that? Would it give her time?
‘It’ll show you your deepest desires.’
She turned away from it and walked towards Paul’s room.
When she arrived outside his door, she knocked gently.
No reply.
Hesitantly, repeating her actions from earlier that evening, she opened his door to find his room bare, his bed made and not slept in. Lucifer was right – he hadn’t been home.
A sick feeling churned within her.
She hadn’t been without Paul ever since he’d told her about the pregnancy. Where was he? Was he safe? Was he with anyone? And who would that be at three in the morning?
Calm down. You’re running away with yourself – pregnancy hormones suck. Get yourself under control…
But she couldn’t shake the worry, or the million unanswered questions that now snaked their way into her mind.
It would be so good just to know…
And wasn’t that what everyone wanted, anyway? Pueblo had all but pushed her into Paul’s arms tonight. Paul had been persistently patient with her, but she knew the extent of his feelings…
And the extent of yours? asked that pesky inner-voice.
Somehow, she found herself back at the kitchen counter, staring at the apple.
Did she still love him, or was everything she was feeling simply nostalgia? How did she separate the two? Could
love be both old and new? Could it be as strong as it was then? Was it possible to be in love with both Pueblo and Paul at the same time? Both as much as each other?
But Paul’s going to die…
What was the use in knowing of any potential future she could have with him if he was going to die?
But can you let him die without ever really knowing?
She didn’t even realise that her breathing had turned shallow, the beginning of another panic attack just around the corner.
Fuck the questions! Stubborn anger rose sharply. I’m so sick of the fucking questions!
The apple didn’t seem to weigh quite so much when she held it the second time.
God was gunning for the Dragon’s head. There was a fifty percent chance everything might all end badly anyhow.
The thought of her baby not surviving, or coming to harm, sent a wave of nausea coursing through her, but what enhanced it, was the vision of her cradling her son, unable to tell if she loved him. Stupid really – she knew that on some deep level … I mean, how could you not bond with your child, right?
Except she knew some mothers left babies on doorsteps; she knew that post natal depression existed and Pueblo was right: she had been sad over the past two months.
She didn’t feel ‘bonded’ to her baby at the moment – not bonded in the way she believed she would thirty-odd weeks down the line – he had grown so quickly, without warning. And maybe this was the crux of it: he was the Messiah. Some new king or leader or … whoever … and she had no idea what she was supposed to do with that.
The overwhelm of it made her dizzy, so much so that she had pushed the truth of it to the back of her mind, refusing to dwell on it, insistent that the baby would not grow up with that burden on his shoulders. But now, with the growth spurt, it was painfully clear that this was not a ‘normal’ child. That revelation brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to love him, and she wanted to do the best that she could by him; to make the right choices, with clarity and surety. Wasn’t that a good thing for everyone?
Before another agonising question could be added to her repertory, she brought the fruit up to her lips, and bit into it.
