by J. L. Myers
“Me?” Reaching up, Lucifer unhooked his chin and took a step back, unable to go further as he hit the towering brick wall. He shook his head. “Gabriel made a deal with the devil. With your God. Her freedom from Hell in exchange for my service in returning every soul below. But that was not all she arranged. A failsafe to protect my life in my task—which became necessary when you let the angel sword get stolen by our common enemy.”
Michael’s mouth twisted, but he had no words of rebuttal.
Lucifer continued. “You were almost too late to end me once and for all.” He unhinged the gnarled breastplate from his chest and threw it down, revealing the three long white scars that marred his flesh over his racing heart. “I survived the death of the angel sword—when Gabriel took my fatal wounds from me.” Lucifer pushed Michael’s raised sword that was tipped with his silver-black blood aside as he stalked closer. “And now she is dying, her heart pierced and her breath failing.”
“I do not believe you.”
Reaching up, Lucifer snapped the cord from around his neck, holding up the mirror pendant so that the flat face was visible to Michael and his young group. “Then do you believe your own eyes?”
Michael paled, his jaw falling slack at the sight of Gabriel naked and bleeding from her chest as she gasped shallow breaths.
“We may be enemies, Michael. But we are on the same side here. You want order on Earth and safety for Heaven? I want to save the only being who has ever meant anything to me now that my own flesh and blood is dead. And there is only one way I can do it.” Lucifer refastened the pendant around his neck, unable to listen to the dying breaths of the woman he loved more than life itself. Eyes burning, he trapped his traitorous tears before they could form a pool in his eyes. “Help me, Michael. Help me restore the order. Help me complete God’s task so I can return to Hell and save her. Help me, or get the hell out of my way. You may be the stronger force here, but my will to save Gabriel is a force that will never surrender. I will kill you—and all your children—if I have to.”
Murmurs rose from the children, and one tall boy that was a dark-haired replica of Michael shook his head. Michael remained mute as his nostrils flared, his muscular body draped in war leather and metal still as death. Only his eyes moved, narrowing as he looked away from the boy and back to the pendant resting against Lucifer’s chest. With an expelled breath, Michael glared up at Lucifer’s face. His sword dropped to his side, still ready in his hand but with the immediate threat gone. His free hand lifted between them, as steady as his stare. “If you make me regret this, I will end you permanently.”
Lucifer smiled, clutching Michael’s forearm in a tight squeeze. He pulled Michael closer so they were face to face. “I would like to see you try.”
Chapter Nineteen
From high up on the thick branch of a thick tree, Darius tied off the rope around his ankle and piled the secured loops out of sight. Through the dense foliage, the scene was set. The hybrid-hellions that had followed at a distance up the mountain to this cleared ridge met the steep rise of smooth rock. A devious smile stretched Darius’s mouth wide and had his fangs peeking through his lips.
A dead end—exactly as planned.
The windswept branches and the murmurs of the hybrid-hellions were not enough to hide the danger that raced their way. Stampeding feet pelted over the rough terrain, climbing higher and closer. And then they arrived.
Lucifer’s offspring appeared over the steep drop-off, hands clawing and then bodies leaping up to meet the landing. It had taken a full day to reach this location, but their angelic lineage had served them well. Each of them looked strong and ready to fight, and Darius could not wait to witness the outcome.
As the hybrid-hellions whirled to face the intruders, a man strode through the gathering of red-eyed men and women. His smile almost matched Darius’s, his own fangs gleaming under the glow of a full moon. “Finally,” Zachias said with anticipation coming alive in his eyes. “Let us finish this once and for all.”
Thanatos headed the group of intruders, showing no concern or shock, but rather a readiness to take action. “You read my mind.” He looked to his right. “Ready?”
Bathory nodded, stoic and all business as the hybrid-hellions crept closer, seeming confused by the non-confrontational exchange that had yet to result in warfare. “It is time.”
Zachias tapped one fang with his tongue. “Then have at them.”
He spun around and smashed his fists into the two closest hybrid-hellions as Thanatos screamed, “Charge!” Two bodies went flying back, knocking down more hybrids as others froze in shock. Lucifer’s offspring took advantage, and raced into the fray, swords already free and slicing to hack at arms and bodies. There was nowhere for the hybrid-hellions to go, the sheer rock wall trapped them and they were surrounded on all three sides. Screams and hissing erupted, and blood spurted as wailing split the night sky.
Many of the hybrid-hellions were unarmed, forced to flee Babylon without warning when Lucifer attacked. Now they only had their nails and fangs to fight with, and their numbers were matched. This was by no means a fair fight. But it would be an eventful one.
Darius contained the chuckle that wanted to bubble up his throat from his sheltered location. Lucifer’s eldest son didn’t have a clue about what he was setting in motion. And neither did the future-glimpsing vampire. After learning of all that needed to come about to fulfill Darius’s plans long ago, Thanatos had, without learning of the details, followed orders and stripped the memories from Bathory’s mind. Now they were both doing his dirty work without even knowing it by ruining Lucifer’s last hope to complete his task and get to his lover.
It was perfect—all of it.
The blood. The flying fingers, hands, and even a shin that sailed as blood sprayed this way and that. Witnessing it all was like watching a whore dance to get a man hard. Rhythmic, precise, and arousing. Bodies fell one after the other, hybrid-hellion’s unable to stand when their legs were sliced clean off. Lucifer’s offspring were injured too, slashes tearing open their leathers as they fought to evade the fangs that snapped for them. One of the offspring was brought down to the ground, but Thanatos’s sword through the hybrid’s back stilled the snapping woman before she could claim flesh. As his sibling recovered, another hybrid leaped onto his back. It whirled around and plunged its fangs down toward his neck—until Zachias loped its head off. The hybrid-hellion’s body fell, and the two men shared a quick nod before continuing the battle.
Soon enough the screams of the injured and dying quieted until all that was left was the heavy breathing of Lucifer’s surviving offspring. Sweating and covered in blood, Thanatos wiped the slick from his forehead and looked to Bathory. “What now?”
Covered in slashes up his arms that were healing with every rough breath, the pale vampire shrugged. “I cannot remember.”
“Zachias?”
The mole among the group surveyed the littered remains surrounding them before turning his back to them. He stole a glance at Darius up in his hiding place. One nod was all it took. Everything was to go ahead as planned. Pivoting back around, Zachias smiled at Lucifer’s leading son. “We burn them. It will guide Lucifer here so he can absorb their souls and return to Hell.”
A few frowns creased the faces of Lucifer’s spawn, but Thanatos nodded. “You heard him. Move the dead, pile them high. We need this smoke signal to pump up into the sky so thick and black that it cannot be missed.”
As the men and women dragged the dead into the center of the clearing, a subtle flapping on the whispering breeze sounded. It grew louder with every passing moment, closing in on their location in sweeping circles, but never quite reaching it. But it was not Lucifer. He had no wings to reach them from the sky with.
Catching Zachias’s eyes through the swaying branches, Darius pinned his lips and nodded his head. A directive to hurry the hell up and make it happen.
Zachias’s nostrils flared, his head tilting like he too could hear the
flapping now. Snatching a flint and some pre-gathered kindling, Zachias shot over to the growing pile of dead.
The fourth crack of connecting stone caused a glorious spark. Fire bloomed like a living thing, crackling and creeping like a blanket as it grew wider and taller. Zachias repeated the ignition, creating new fires all around the piled corpses. Putrid smoke billowed as the last body pieces were thrown high onto the mound, joining as one to pump up into the sky.
The repetitive flapping that sped their way hiked Darius’s face skyward. Black wings beat the turbulent air, slicing the night sky as if it were a weapon. And the man they were attached to…Michael. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place as the archangel glimpsed the bonfire and cut sharp to the left to circle back and out of sight.
As the heat of the fire forced Lucifer’s offspring, Bathory, and Zachias to step back, Darius didn’t know how Lucifer would come to know of the fire and what it meant, but he did know what would happen next. And he was ready, giddy with eagerness to finally achieve the impossible.
Lucifer would fall—and then he would rip open Hell and unleash all that was evil onto the Earth.
Chapter Twenty
Lucifer felt the despair of failure setting the night after his miraculous survival. Dusk had settled over the land, and the miles his feet had eaten up had gotten him no closer to the hybrid-hellions he needed to kill. Darkness grew like a stain over the rolling dusty hills and rocky mountain terrain he traversed. Michael’s young followers panted as they did their best to keep up and not let him out of range. Gabriel was running out of time fast. Every time he dared to peer down at her through the mirror she was closer to death. Now, as Lucifer sent a terrified look down, he saw how grayness grew over her in strength and severity, stealing the light porcelain of her flesh. Her silver-stained lips were blue, hinting at the purple hue a dead body commanded without life’s breath. Breath that was now as sharp and shallow as ever and progressively intermittent, stretching out long seconds rather than reacting to a healthy throbbing heart.
Feet raw and bleeding from the steady pace, Lucifer pushed on harder, refusing to give up. Refusing to believe this was the end. Throwing his head up to the sky, he saw naught but the blinking of stars and the fat slice of moon that propelled light down onto them all. He shivered as the temperature dived further from the sweltering heat of the day. He had to save her. He had to. But the directional pull to the last of Hell’s souls had suddenly dimmed. Something was wrong. “Michael, where the hell are you?”
The children struggled to keep up, their breaths labored as they fought to gain purchase on the rising terrain. A woodsy smell of smoke descended down around them, faint but unmistakable.
As if he had heard Lucifer’s grated words, Michael appeared over the skyward cliff they were traversing. He dove down like a predatory bird, wings tucking back to hasten his rapid descent. The black lengths flung outward at the last second, keeping Michael from becoming a compacted mess at Lucifer’s feet as he landed with a thud. Fear plagued his eyes as he hiked his chin up. “Over the ridge. Bathory and your spawn.” Michael was breathing fast, making his rushed words choppy and strained. “They’ve been searching for you. The bodies of the hybrid-hellions—they have them.”
This was all good news to Lucifer. His offspring had potentially finished the job he had to accomplish—aside from reabsorbing their spent souls. But the panic in Michael’s eyes drained the hope right out of him. Was Darius there? Had he taken control somehow? “What the hell aren’t you telling me? Is it Darius?”
Michael shook his head. “No. Another hybrid. Tall. Red hair and beard.”
Lucifer felt an unsettling deep down in his gut that refused to let go. A sudden memory assaulted his mind, that faceless voice that had alerted Darius too…Michael’s incoming. Now there was no confusion. “Zachias,” he snapped.
“He’s directing them. No time to explain.”
Michael darted to Lucifer’s back, hooking his arms around the fallen angel’s chest. Lucifer whirled and shoved the angel back, expecting Michael to double-cross him. But Michael hadn’t even reached for his sword. And neither had any of his young followers who waited alongside in silent apprehension. Not even the one that looked exactly like Michael had moved. “What are you up to, Michael?”
“Trying to help my arch nemesis save the woman who stole both our hearts.” Michael did not back down or back peddle. He meant every word of his unexpected declaration. “They are setting the dead alight.”
Michael loved Gabriel? The truth fed the darkness inside Lucifer and made the black veins covering his arms and chest hum. Lucifer wanted so badly to beat the angel bloody until he was a broken pile of flesh and bones on the rocky track they stood on. But Michael’s last words registered in time for Lucifer to see through the murderous haze that had set his heart on fire. Keeping his fists clenched, Lucifer could not unclamp his jaw. With only his lips moving, his words grated through gnashed teeth. “What do you mean alight?”
“Burning their bodies before they can heal. Dammit, there is no time to explain,” Michael snapped. When Lucifer didn’t react, the angel added, “You cannot return souls to Hell if they have been extinguished before you get there.”
Now Lucifer understood, and the knowledge had tendrils of fear snaking through him. If he could not return all the souls, he could not return to Hell. And he could not save Gabriel. She would die—because of him.
“Then what the hell are we waiting for?”
Trusting an enemy who had wanted him dead for so long now, Lucifer turned his back to Michael who reclaimed his hold around him. “Micah, lead them west until you find Ruthaven and the other vampires,” he ordered the replica of himself. “Stay with them. I will find you all later.”
Without another word they shot sky high, Michael beating his huge black wings to deliver them up into the glittering night sky. Below it was dark, the moon highlighting the tops of clustered trees and forests that weaved in and around the rising rocky mountains. Lucifer saw vampires coming over the wide ridge they’d taken flight from, heading toward the children warriors Michael had left. But he did not continue to watch behind him—because a mushroom of thick black smoke was billowing up from behind a soaring mountaintop. As they passed the apex, a flattened mountain ledge came into view where close-knit trees started up from the edges before a sheer cliff. A massive pile of bodies took up the center, surrounded by Lucifer’s offspring. It was already blazing, the fire swiftly covering the shifting mass of torsos and limbs.
And then Lucifer saw him—Zachias.
Entranced by the flames, the man he had almost trusted for a second time picked up a stray hand and threw it onto the pile before rubbing his palms together at a job well done. He’d planned this from the start. Played Lucifer for a fool, all the while intending never to let him return Hell’s souls or save Gabriel from eternal torture. Now she was dying—and his last hope to save her was going up in flames.
“Drop me and find a way to douse the flames,” Lucifer ordered.
Michael swooped lower, and when he spoke his voice was choked. “If they hadn’t sought you out instead, a vampire with water affinity could have killed the flames.”
Lucifer jerked, wanting to free himself from Michael’s hold. “Then go and bloody well get him.”
Michael plummeted faster, but his words were slow and filled with utter certainty. “It is too late for that.”
The fire engulfed the entire pile, all the fiery pockets joining together to send searing hot waves up into the sky that battled with their descent. The smell was vile, and Michael was right. The outer bodies were nothing more than roaring flames now. The hybrids that had escaped Hell were not merely dead. The call to their souls was almost non-existent. But Lucifer had to try. Giving up wasn’t an option. “I don’t give a damn. Do it, and hurry the holy hell up.”
Seeing red as Michael touched down, Lucifer tore from the angel’s hold. His dagger was free before Zachias even saw what was imminent.
But that wouldn’t do any good. Lucifer wanted the spineless traitor to know what was coming for him. He wanted him to see death bearing down on him. “Zachias!”
The only guard he’d ever trusted in Hell spun as if on a pike. Surprise widened his eyes—right as the whip end of Lucifer’s dagger snapped out to coil around his neck. Pulled face to face, the bastard actually smiled. “Finally.”
Lucifer twisted his wrist, driving the burning blue blade up under Zachias’s rib cage to pierce his heart. “I will find a way to Hell, and I will spew your vile soul from my body. Your screams will be never-ending at my bare hands—for the rest of all eternity.” Then Lucifer snarled the words to deliver his once trusted soldier’s fate. “From Heaven’s light to Hell’s fire, deliver back unto darkness.”
Zachias’s mouth froze open, a gargled mash of words failing to tumble free. He heated up, his pale flesh turning the same red of his eyes in a flash as he combusted where he stood. Rendered to a black cloud, Lucifer wanted to take out the unquenchable rage of failing on his offspring. He didn’t get the chance as a deep inhale drew Zachias’s black soul into his mouth and down his throat, dropping Lucifer to his knees.
Bathory appeared before him, and Lucifer clutched him by his throat. The dagger pointed at his heart. “She saved you, and now you have condemned her to die. Gabriel will die!”
Bathory’s pale face turned gray. “What—” He tried to shake his head. “No. Zachias said—” Lucifer squeezed harder, but the lack of retaliation from the vampire along with the true fear in his eyes made him throw the young man to the ground. “He said you would come. That you would reap the souls—”
“He lied.” Lucifer believed the young vampire, knowing Gabriel’s trust and hope had not been wasted. “And now it is too late.”
