by J. L. Myers
In the silence that followed, Michael could not help but wonder where the black abyss led to. His knowledge so far only entrusted him with the existence of the hazy expanse behind the throne and the haven that existed beyond it. It was a place where pain did not exist, where everyone was free to live in their own version of perfection with all the passed people that they loved.
“Is there forgiveness in your soul for me?”
Azrael’s unexpected question piqued Michael’s interest and diverted his mind from where that disappearing black hole could lead. The other angel was still facing God, his head bowed and his wings drooping in subservience. Michael knew what Azrael was begging forgiveness for—the returning of Lucifer’s message to Gabriel that Michael had informed God of. He knew God was unaware of why the angel had helped Lucifer, and on reporting to God before Azrael was inundated by flood deaths, Michael had kept Lucifer’s accusations from passing his lips.
The brilliant light that filled the throne pulsed brighter for a few beats. The voice that spoke was all-powerful and, rather than being vocalized, it resonated in Michael’s mind with him being within the expansiveness of God’s presence. “It has already been granted, my child. From the moment your heart requested it back when your error in judgment took place. Though this time, my forgiveness cannot extend to your brother, Lucifer, who dares not seek my mercy. I fear his will may be his downfall, and down he shall fall if he refuses to learn from his imprisonment. If he proves he cannot be contained.” God’s light almost seemed to dim, to weaken as the strength of his voice turned wary. “My hand was forced to cleanse the Earth of what I created. I wish not to see the same fate for my pure angels.”
Michael had started retreating down the stairs even before God’s emotional words had ended. Too many thoughts were swimming through his mind, clogging up his brain with possibilities. Gabriel, Lucifer, himself… Michael knew his station. He knew what was allowed of him and what was not. He would never admit to the simmering feelings he had for Gabriel. They were not his to feel, certainly not for him to act upon. And he was at peace with that. So long as he could exist near her, he would accept that. But he could not accept this ongoing folly of witnessing Lucifer’s actions with Gabriel. Something needed to change. And now God, though forgiving in nature, was ready to set things right…under the right circumstances.
Clearing one step after another, each appearing with his reaching foot, Michael met the landing that sided the large cleared area around the looking glass. Remiel glanced up from his chained station, a question in his eyes at seeing his brother’s entrance. Michael did not wait or speak a word. Instead, he clicked his fingers to dematerialize and reform right in front of Lucifer’s vibrant cell.
The imprisoned angel stood statue still, the only movement at Michael’s arrival coming from his narrowed eyes that shot venom at the sight of him. “Come to gloat, brother?” Lucifer threw out his arms, his wings widening to fill the circular cell. “By all means…” He strode closer, holding his face an inch back from the bars. “Though I suggest you make the most of it. My stay here will not be eternal as I am certain you hope for. I will be free. And I will go to her. Gabriel will know you manipulated her into believing this was her choice. And then, dear brother, she will hate you as I now do.”
Michael stepped closer, coming within reach of Lucifer should he dare to strike out through the bars. He smiled. Michael knew Lucifer. He had watched him for so long now. He knew what Lucifer would do if given the chance, the freedom, to leave this cage. With the loathing that was clear across his face, he would not be able to stop himself. Lucifer would, as he had threatened, go to her.
And that is exactly what Michael now wanted him to do.
But he could not willingly allow Lucifer’s escape. So instead, he came closer, flashing a goading grin. “You will never be with her, Lucifer. Did you fail to behold Gabriel’s face? She knows you killed a mortal. You killed a man merely to send her a message. You think she does not know what you would be capable of if given the chance. You are a threat to us all.” Michael’s hand hovered over the hilt of the angel sword at his side. “A threat that must be dealt with…”
Lucifer snarled, not missing the deadly intent Michael was projecting. Reacting as expected, Lucifer’s hands speared through the bars. Catching Michael’s head, he drove him forward. The crack as his cheeks hit the unyielding bars was met with a horrible hissing as his skin melted back from his facial bones and Lucifer’s arms.
Reacting through the pain, the angel sword was freed, and then Michael speared it up. Knocking one of the glowing bars with a resounding clang, he drove the sword up into Lucifer’s chest. Lucifer’s hands released his head, his arms losing more skin in their retreat as silver dripped in a sizzling puddle on the ground. Michael yanked the sharp sword free and watched Lucifer stagger back.
A leaking hole marred Lucifer’s chest—on the opposite side to his heart.
Not a kill shot.
Lucifer looked bewildered, seeing the mistake before his expression turned to cocky rage. He wheezed. “You missed, Warrior of God.”
Michael shot a fleeting glance to the bar the angel sword had struck. There was a hairline crack that was visible where the glowing light dimmed. Looking back at Lucifer, he shrugged, smearing the silver blood from the blade before re-sheathing it at his waist. “Perhaps. Though with what I know, your time here will not be long-lived. Humans are paying the price for their sins. Who do you think will be next? Your days are numbered, Lucifer.” Stinging lines pulled at his face with his broad smile as he waited for a bright flare to grace the infinite light around them. “Your extermination is set.” He brushed the back of his hand across one of his cheeks, feeling the patchy, wet skin slowly regrowing to cover the exposed bone. “Now I must be away. I am sure Gabriel will be eager to hear of your most recent heinous actions against your own brother.”
“Stay away from her.” Lucifer’s voice was a low gasp, yet the murderous threat in his eyes was unmissable.
“While you are locked here for days on end with no one and nothing to pass the time…” Michael smiled, joining his thumb and forefinger as he faced Lucifer head on. With a click, his final words resonated with a chuckle as a single feather was plucked and dropped covertly from behind his back. “Make me.”
Chapter Thirty
Lucifer sat with his knees perched in front of him, watching as the marbled and fraying skin on his forearms stretched and knitted back together. It stung like hell, but it was not as bad as the feeling of his insides healing as he sucked in short, sharp breaths with the reforming of his punctured lung. His eyes remained frozen, staring through the bars at the vacant spot Michael had been standing—
Where a single white feather lay across the luminous ground.
Michael’s feather, with the ability to traverse, the ability to deliver his escape from this sky-high cell that, though it seemed endless, had a limit he could fly up to before meeting a burning barrier. With the cells impenetrable bars and the impending doom that awaited him, that feather was his only escape—and it was out of his reach.
Michael’s smug words repeated in Lucifer’s head.
Humans are paying the price for their sins. Who do you think will be next?
Cranking his fists even tighter, his knuckles whitened further, his bones stretching the skin to almost the point of breaking—or cracking bone. God had finally taken action to stop the humans he had so readily afforded free will to. Aside from Noah and his family, he was right now continuing the drowning annihilation of his creation. So many people. So many mortals. He could not help but fear that Michael was right. When God was done with the slaughter, would Lucifer be next? Would his eternal punishment be bestowed?
The possibility had Lucifer closing his eyes as fear grew deep in his gut. He feared not of losing his own life or the pain he would suffer during the process. At least, not entirely, or even mostly. The one thing he truly feared was losing Gabriel forever. To never see her again…
to not even exist to have the chance…
No. Lucifer refused to let himself go down that way. He refused to kneel and have his eternal fate decided by a God who would wipe out the good along with the bad of His mistake. Relishing in the memory of Michael’s face burning, he let his anger and rage grow. All he had ever wanted was to be free to follow the emotions that churned inside of him. The emotions their maker was responsible for whether he admitted to it or not. They were his first creations, and like his humans, they were imperfect too. God’s vision of Above and Below had only ever been that, a vision. Reality was interchangeable, and it was uncontrollable—as was Lucifer.
Breath coming faster, Lucifer was on his feet and at the bars in an instant, his great white wings propelling him up. Ready for the pain, he clutched the glowing beams of light, feeling the hard resistance as his skin seared away. He gritted his teeth, sweat sprouting from his face, back, and chest as he used all his might to pull outward. He only needed a slight bend, a fraction so he could reach that damn feather.
Lucifer roared, hands flinging away from the bars as he stumbled and fell. His thick, feathery wings padded his landing, causing twin spears of pain to attack his back. Silver streamed from his palms and down his forearms. The bars sizzled, burning away the layers of skin that had melted to their curved surfaces. The bars had not budged. Not even an inch.
Lucifer’s mouth opened to scream his frustration—but any sound choked back before it could escape.
From this lower position on the floor, his eyes were at waist level…and set on the shadowed crack of the bar next to the two he had failed to move. He remembered the clang from the moment Michael had freed the angel sword before driving it up into his chest. He thought in that second that he was dead, that his entire existence had been over. His last thought as the blade had pierced through his ribs had been of Gabriel, of the last time he had held her in his arms and the moment she gasped in the breath of life.
But Michael had missed his heart—the organ he needed to pierce to end him instantly. Now Lucifer stared at the bar, at the hairline fracture that had weakened its form. Knowing he would not be missed until Michael came to deliver his fate, he had to take action. This was his chance. His one last hope.
With the skin of his palms still raw but healing, Lucifer stood without the use of his hands. Not once did his eyes leave their mark on that one bar. This was going to hurt like hell, but he had no other choice. He had to get to her. He had to tell her his attack on Michael was not one-sided. He had to reveal all of what had happened on Earth and that he was not the monster Michael would have made him out to be. And then, when his muddied soul was bared to her, he had to ask her one monumental question—one that could change both their lives forever.
Screaming his readiness, Lucifer ran and kicked out, hitting the weak spot along the bar with his foot. Skin sizzled as heat shot up his leg, layers remaining on the bar as he landed. “Damn this!” The gust of his wings had blown the feather, his escape, further out of reach, but—the bar had bent, not much but enough to feed Lucifer’s hope. Kicking out again, more flesh ripped away, replacing what had already turned to dust as it fell in an extinguishing litter of ash on the ground. More movement. He kicked again. A clear dent. With the feather so far out of reach, there was only one way to ensure his escape. He kicked again with a tortured roar. And again. The crack that erupted was as good as the sound of Gabriel’s sweet voice. The bar was now bent well and truly, the hairline fracture now a splintered break. The side of the damaged bar now touched the intact bar beside it, and where they connected, the undamaged bar had dimmed in that small spot.
Lucifer knew what he had to do and he knew exactly how to do it. His freedom was his for the taking…
With his foot throbbing with burning heat, Lucifer hobbled to the bar, leaving silver tacky footprints in his wake. Palms not yet fully healed, Lucifer did not wait. Instead, he clutched the bar with both hands and tugged, roaring as he flapped his wings to add to the backward pressure. There was a creak—and then the bar snapped, the lower length coming free in his hand. The residual burn receded and Lucifer smiled through panting breaths. If Michael hadn’t stabbed him with the angel sword, he would be no closer to escaping, no closer to getting to Gabriel, no closer to saving his life. “Thank you, Michael.”
Lucifer clutched the broken bar and swung. Raking the cooled length along each glowing bar, each one’s light extinguished as soon as it struck. Breathing hard with anticipation, he dropped the broken bar, leaving a clatter behind him as he strode forward. Taking hold of the now cold metal that imprisoned him, he grunted as he heaved outward. With a whining creak, the bars bent almost with ease until the gap between the two was big enough. Without looking back, Lucifer squeezed through, and then he was out. He was free.
Swooping up Michael’s feather, Lucifer clicked his fingers. His destination was set as he burst into a brilliant column of light. “I am coming, Gabriel.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Lucifer reformed in the corridors somewhere between the private chambers and her garden. Stilling his body while his heart raced with desperation to take chase, he let his senses tune in to her essence. The tug was almost immediate and was as undeniable as ever. Though her near presence was not the only one that tickled his recognition. Other angels were nearby, and he could not risk being caught before he got to her.
Spinning away from the private quarters, Lucifer ran like his life depended on it. After what Michael had revealed, this could be his last chance to see her, his last chance to come clean—about everything. And his last chance to find out if he’d lost her or if their futures could carry on side by side.
Reaching the bright dead end, Lucifer didn’t slow as he launched himself at the wall of thick light. He wondered if Michael had somehow shut off access to her garden, but he met no resistance and sailed right through.
Landing with light feet, his wings fluttered, slowing his forward projection. With Gabriel’s closeness almost burning through him, the first place his eyes shot to was the pond with its dark murky water. Except, she was not there. In fact, glancing around, she did not appear to be anywhere. The garden was in ruins as he remembered it, all black and brown with no glimpses of color to hint at its former beauty. And now that he was staring so avidly, he could swear the light that had softened the damage had weakened. Instead of feeling warmth all around, an unsettling chill now filled the unmoving air, distracting him from the smells of destruction, reminding him of his actions that had ruined her special place. Lucifer sighed, challenging his intentions in racing here, in all he planned to say, and all he hoped would result. Perhaps he was the problem. Damning uncertainty made him take a retreating step backward.
“How are you here?”
Lucifer whirled back to the tree he’d entered through from the corridor. His uncertainty dissolved instantly, his jaw gaping in surprise as Gabriel stepped out from behind the thick trunk. She was beauty personified, as stunning as he could remember. Her flushed cheeks revealed her surprise at his presence, and her parted blushed lips begged for him to sweep her up and taste her. The despairing and even fearful look on her face stopped him from doing all the things his body and mind were screaming at him to do. Her clasped hands trembled before her. Refraining from coming any closer, her eyes darted. After all she had been told of his actions, did she now fear him?
Fighting to keep himself pinned to the charred grass and rocky dirt, Lucifer clasped his healing hands before him. With souls passing as flares continually streaked overhead, he didn’t hold back. “Believe me, Gabriel. I would never harm you.”
A softer look passed over her porcelain face, though the fear in her eyes still remained. “I know you would not, Lucifer. I…”
“Please, let me explain.” Lucifer fell to his knees, begging to be heard, desperate at the reaction he might receive. At Gabriel’s quiet watchfulness from behind the tree, he swallowed his racing heart down from his throat and continued. “Below, I did not
kill a mortal. It was not my hands or weapon that delivered his fate.” He stilled his tongue for a moment, knowing he had to be honest without illusions that painted him in a better light than what was real. “Though I did use the life, and death, of a man to my advantage. He would have perished a horrid demise at God’s own hands soon after. I used him as a shield against his own ally that sought to run me through—against the man who led the attack on your life. I know my actions were without order. My message to you was forbidden. But I could not abide the distance between us. I needed you to know my heart and that in all my time below, nothing had changed for me…and even now, or after anything others or we ourselves do to each other, nothing ever will. I am sorry, Gabriel, because I do not regret anything I have done when it comes to you, and I never will. I cannot change who I am or who I have become. I cannot change my heart. I only hope you can see who I still am deep down inside and accept me as the imperfect being I have always been.”
“We are all imperfect, Lucifer. Even I.” Gabriel frowned as her eyes lowered from his face, seeing the welts and drying smears of silver peeking out from his clasped hands and down his forearms. Rushing out from behind the tree, she fell to her knees before him. Her soft hands touched his, gently prying his tacky palms apart. She gasped at seeing what his raised hands had been hiding, the fresh silver that stained his dirty leathers and the deep hole in his chest that was not quite healed. The angel sword injury seemed to be taking longer than normal to mend. Gabriel’s hand laid flat against the hole as despair wreaked havoc on her beauty. “What happened to you?”
