“Except you.”
“I died, Lucy,” she took a step forward, her confidence warring with her hesitation. “I’ve died a thousand deaths trying to get to you. Only I survive and come back stronger each time.” She took another cautious step forward. “I’ve been sacrificed, impaled, beaten, stabbed, shot, poisoned, trampled on, and worse. My wings have been burned, hacked off, and mutilated.” She got right up to him, “And now I’m almost indestructible.”
With her this close, his heart jackhammered. Too much anger for what she’d gone through, for what they’ve all gone through, pulsed in his veins. He lashed out, seizing her by the throat and had to force himself to not squeeze. “I can’t break your neck, can I?”
“You can try,” she tempted him with a smile.
But he’d tried already, the first time he saw her. Squeezing Eve’s throat was like wrapping hands around a steel pipe and trying to crush it. “How long have you been this way?”
“For about two hundred years or so.” Another tear slid down her face.
His hands rose up her neck until he cupped her face. Part of him wanted to kiss her, the other part of him wanted to pop her head off. Instead, he ran his thumb across her cheek and wiped away the tear. He didn’t want to see it.
“I can’t do this with you,” he said quietly. As her face turned red and eyes welled with tears, he hated everything. “I have to go after Michael. I have Hounds to protect. Innocents, too. I don’t have enough strength in me to deal with this right now.”
“I understand.”
Her not arguing with him about it both relieved and pissed him off. He was so mixed up it was infuriating. Nothing she could say or do would be good enough for him right now. Or possibly ever.
“I’m not the same male I once was,” he let her go and backed the fuck up.
“Well, I’m not the same female I once was.”
He let his gaze drop from her head to her toes, “Yeah. You are.”
And that was the problem.
Chapter 15
Michael walked around the divine realm, mourning what was left of the brotherhood’s old territory. He felt so much resentment and hatred, it was a wonder he could move. He came back here often. The repetitive act would pay off eventually, and he hoped today would be the day.
None but a select few of his servants could find him wherever he was. To make himself available to other Angels in the human realm would leave him too vulnerable for attacks. He’d spent the better part of five years leaving a small trail for someone smart enough, bold enough, brave enough to follow. And with the last attack on an actual Angel in that restaurant, Michael figured the time had come. Someone would show the fuck up.
With a wary eye on his surroundings, Michael’s hand hovered over the small blade on his waist. Being here did bad things to his head. Triggered too much.
Death, pain, sorrow, anger, malice, resentment, hurt - goddamn, the list of triggers could go on forever.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Michael spoke to Raphael as if the Angel was still there. Old habits die hard.
Raphael’s suffering and slow deterioration eventually enabled Michael’s escape from imprisonment. One’s weakening was another’s strengthening.
Michael tried to not think too hard about Raphael. But the energy of this place was tainted and felt too much like Raphael here - as if that motherfucker marked the scorched earth and dead grass and brittle tree before he succumbed to his fate.
Part of Michael wanted to check and verify the bastard was indeed still a rotting corpse, but the self-preservation side of him said to never step foot in that hole of despair again. He couldn’t afford to lose his mind right now. Even a magnificent creature such as himself had their limits.
Michael kept his distance from the crack in the earth and headed in the opposite direction. The courtyard, once green and bright with wide open spaces to practice sword handling, was now brown and dry. The Apple Tree in the center of the once glorious space looked absolutely pathetic – it’s branches bare and broken.
Michael ran his fingers across the brittle bark. There was no life left in the tree. Shit, there was no life left in this realm. When he crawled out of his hell a few years back, the territory was fading, but still held color and life. Now, it was shriveled and decayed. That Michael should stand before this once powerful realm and be the only splash of color left in it now was a sign of what was to come. This realm was dead. The brotherhood was dead. Divinity would soon be dead, as would everyone else.
Speaking of death… Michael kneeled down and ran his hand over freshly tilled dirt. Off in the distance, he saw something move. Hidden in shadow, all he could make out was a silhouette at first. If it was a malanum, he was going to be furious. They were so needy lately. As if they truly expected him to fulfill the promises he made. Dipshits.
The figure moved closer, marching with sure footing, straight for Michael. At about fifty yards away, the silhouette became more defined. The figure grew increasingly larger until Michael was able to see their face.
Anthony.
Michael rolled his shoulders back and stood tall and proud. If Anthony was surprised to see him, it didn’t show. Then again, Anthony had always been damned good at keeping his emotions out of everything.
“I heard you were out.”
“Only just,” Michael tossed a friendly smile.
“Lazarus always said you weren’t an Angel who could be killed.”
Michael practically purred at the compliment.
They both looked down at the mound of fresh dirt. Anthony was the one to speak first, “We lost a brother.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss. It is never easy to lose one of our own.”
He didn’t ask how it happened, because Michael already knew. He’d found Lilith burying Sari’s hacked up body parts and helped her dig the goddamn grave.
Anthony’s wings bristled. “How long have you been out?”
“Long enough to see the mess Lucifer has made.”
“Lucifer’s done what he promised. He’s stayed in Hell and housed the evil souls that once ran wild.”
“Is that what he says he’s been doing?”
“He speaks with actions, not words.”
Michael could roll with that. “Lucifer and I never could see eye to eye with things. Of course, I don’t blame him for taking the opportunity to rise in rank. He always wished he could have been one of us.”
“He is one of us,” Anthony’s words didn’t match his tone.
“Still trying to convince yourself of that?” Michael clucked his tongue in disgust. “And here I thought you’d be the one to shine light upon the darkest of our kind and see them for what they truly are.”
“666 is a decent enough Angel.”
666. Not Lucifer. Not Lucy. Not brother. Just a number. Good. “My concern for our race deepens with the pulls of energy I continue to feel.” Michael stayed a good distance back, but kept his tone friendly. “I have crawled my way out of that festering pit Lucifer chained me in, if only to do what I was meant to do… protect our race from impurity and ruin.”
Anthony’s brow arched. “He is out as well, for the same reasons.”
“Mmmm, the Devil has broken his way out of Hell, just as I have escaped my own isolation.”
“Your timing is impeccable.”
Michael didn’t miss the bored tone. Anthony wasn’t going to buy Michael’s story of heroism so easily. He knew better. So Michael upped the ante. “I have only ever done what I could to serve and protect. This world has suffered. While I was locked and sealed away from all life, the worlds have fallen into darkness. It doesn’t have to be this way.”
Anthony’s jaw clenched.
“I imagine,” Michael clasped his hands behind his back and started walking around the warrior. “That it is hard to take orders from a female like Lilith.”
“Not particularly.”
“Hmph,” he didn’t let up, “Lilith was a beautiful creatu
re back when she was all mine.” He saw the glint of jealousy in Anthony’s gaze. Had he blinked, Michael would have missed it. “I remember fondly how willing she was to drop to her knees and obey my every whim.”
“She’s not the same now.”
“Yes, she is. Creatures like her do not change.” Michael chuckled coldly, “I remember the day I told Lilith to open her pretty little mouth. Her lips, so lush and full, parted wide for me without question.” Fuck, the power he had back then. He ordered, they obeyed. Ahhhh, those were the days. “I placed a single grape upon her pink tongue and told her to bite down.” He closed his eyes and basked in the memory, “Seconds later, hunger slammed into me so hard, I stumbled. The burst of flavor in her mouth shot a need so fierce into me, I could barely breathe.”
Anthony’s jaw tightened again.
“Did she ever tell you that she’s the reason the world has hunger?”
He kept silent.
“Lilith is the reason there are a lot of things in this world.” Michael continued to walk around Anthony in a circle. The warrior slowly turned with him, never allowing his back to face Michael. Smart. “She’s cunning,” he continued. “Pretends to have everyone’s best interests at heart. But in reality, she’s setting the game up in her favor.”
“She’s selfless,” Anthony argued, but the words were laced with doubt.
“She’s only ever done things that served her most in the end.” Michael swept his hand around the courtyard, “I bet she tried to take over the brotherhood the second I was no longer an issue.” He didn’t allow Anthony a chance to say anything yet. “She abandoned the Purity Sect to come to us. Served me. Obeyed me. Then turned her back on the brotherhood the moment she saw an opportunity where she might rise. And rise she has,” he tipped his head to the sky. “Paradise is hers, correct?”
“Paradise belongs to no one.”
“Then let it crumble.”
“Why would we do that?” Anthony didn’t look pissed, he was intrigued.
“Lucifer’s malanum are infecting everything. Everyone. He’s raising the dead and using their bodies to house the souls of the damned doing their master’s bidding.”
Anthony’s mouth thinned to a tight line.
“I want to finish what was started long ago. Lucifer’s gained far too much power and that is my fault. I'll take the blame for his rising to such extraordinary circumstances." Michael faked remorse as he faced Anthony, "I was foolish back when I ruled the Protection Sect. I saw Lucifer as a beast that could be used as a weapon. I wanted him brought to heel and obey its master. My intentions were to break and train him, so I could use him to help make our world a safer and more perfect place."
"You speak of perfection, but you are not perfect yourself."
"A goal I may never achieve, but still wish for." Michael's smile was tight and cold, "I am what I was made to be, Anthony. The Elders who came before us - the Angels who once owned all the energies of the Universe - did the same to me as I've tried to do unto you and your brothers. They molded me. Shaped me. Broken, bent, and bettered me."
Anthony let out a hiss of disapproval.
"Their methods were cruel. Mine were not much better towards all of you, and for that, I will forever be sorry. It's my only regret - not having done better by the brotherhood." He gracefully dropped to his knees and bowed before Anthony. "That is why I beg you now to forgive my transgressions. And ask that you join me in this fight against Lucifer. I may not be perfect, but that doesn't mean I'm not righteous. I want the Angels to have an abundance of strength. To gaze upon the earth and see it for what it always was - a feeding ground."
Anthony growled.
"You've strengthened, Anthony. Lucifer and his brothers made that possible. Telling stories of each of you, getting humans to have faith in our race, it has served all of you well. But you could be so much more than a guardian. So much more than a once proud warrior who stood before his traitorous brothers right here," Michael slammed his fist into the ground, "on this holy land. You weren't meant to take orders, brother. You were meant to give them."
With the sensitivity Michael now possessed, he could almost feel the spike in Anthony's heart rate. Damn he wished someone was videotaping this sorry ass display of manipulation. It was so easy it wasn't even fun.
"Lucifer has the whims of Mediums, Hounds, malanum, and so much more. Your entire life, since my imprisonment, has not been to protect human life - it's been to enable human life to bend as Lucifer wishes. Every person you have protected, every battle you have fought... in the end.... in the dark... was for Lucifer and Lucifer only. That beast knows nothing but to eat power.”
Anthony’s lips peeled back in a growl.
“Think about it. Pick the events apart and analyze them closely.” This was like feeding a duck a loaf of bread – Michael had to pick it apart into itty bitty pieces and feed the pathetic creature little by little when all Michael really wanted to do was cram the entire loaf down its throat till it choked on it. “Gluttony, Greed, Pride - Lucifer and his brothers marked those traits as sins, because sins are nothing more than temptations. Both go hand and hand and feed the Devil energy he so enjoys to devour."
Anthony's hands dropped to his side. His brow furrowed.
Damn, Michael was so close to making this perfect, his mouth watered to taste victory.
"He’s growing an army right under the Divine’s noses. When that abomination has eaten the world alive and drained every last drop of purity and innocence from it, he'll rule everything. Then he'll go after you and the other Angels."
"He wouldn't dare."
"Lucifer has no loyalties," Michael hissed. "You just haven't seen the forest for the trees."
"He keeps little for himself and gives all the energy to the rest of us."
"A ploy to earn your trust," Michael waved the argument off. "I only ask for you to look with your eyes wide open, brother. See what he's doing. Listen to what he is saying. The souls of innocents are being devoured and turned. Infections have hit the living, spreading evil like a plague. Angels... they have weakened too, have they not?"
Anthony let out a frustrated puff of air.
“Lucifer’s reach is vast, brother. Not even Paradise is far enough away from the Devil’s claws.”
Anthony’s body language shifted. “Lucifer has not changed. He’s still the same he always was.”
Was he trying to say Lucifer was righteous and good? What a fool. “And why would a leopard ever change his spots?” Jesus fucking Christ, was Michael going to have to handhold Anthony through this entire thing?
"Look," Michael purred, rising to his feet again, "I only wish to offer an apology to the Angels I failed so long ago. Had I not been so foolish, so headstrong about thinking Lucifer could be like us, I would have - and should have - killed him the moment he came into existence. All you've done, brother, is spend your days protecting lives of those who marked moments of importance for Lucifer and his brothers. All the cursed bloodlines were Gabriel's alarms, were they not? Everyone with some shred of importance to divinity was assigned a guardian, and for what? It always," he growled, "served Lucifer in the end." He backed away and let all that bullshit sink in.
"How do you know all this?"
"Have you forgotten?" Michael smirked, "I'm all-knowing." Lies, lies, lies. He had the Book of Angels in his possession. The Battle of the Brotherhood was all in there, as were the steps taken directly afterward. The rest, Michael made up based on his own acts of rebellion, which he made sure all linked back to Lucifer. Lazarus drinking from the Cup of Knowledge was still a secret. As far as those from the brotherhood were concerned, Lazarus was a lunatic who was caged for his own safety, and Michael was the one who drank from the cup so he knew all, and therefore should rule all.
“If you were truly all-knowing,” Anthony pushed, “why didn’t you flee when the battle started? Why did you let Lucifer imprison you for so long?”
He figured this would come up and was prepared. �
�Atonement, Anthony. I wronged my brothers in unforgivable ways. I deserved that punishment. Went willingly, as you recall.”
“And what of Raphael?”
“Perished,” Michael tried to sound regretful. “He broke my chains and set me free with his last breath.”
Anthony’s gaze jerked to the direction of the crack in the ground.
“You can go see for yourself,” Michael tempted. “Not much is left of him. He was barely more than bone by the time his energy petered out. Oh… and you did know that Raphael was also tied to Lucifer, correct? They had a connection back then. I’ve found myself often wondering if Lucifer hadn’t drained our poor brother dry, slowly, torturously, all this time.”
Anthony growled again.
"Think carefully, brother. Not with your heart, but with your head. You always were a brilliant male. It's why you were one of my favorites. One of my untouchables." Lies, again. Michael never bothered with Anthony because he wasn’t impressive enough to waste time on. If he died, he died. If he lived, he lived. "Has Uriel's symbol not been found in the most grotesque of places lately?"
Anthony's breath caught.
"And I bet you can't get close to certain areas in the bigger cities." Michael pursed his lips, "Malanum are swarming, preventing anyone - divine or otherwise - from entering." Again, he watched Anthony's gaze flicker with rage. "Lucifer’s Hounds are positioned in key locations too."
"For protection."
"For surveillance," he corrected. "They are, after all, his eyes and ears." Michael crossed his arms over his chest. "He's dangerous. Always was. And he's a fucking animal. No beast like that deserves the loyalties he’s gained. Lucifer knows that so he spun the world and warped it to get what he wanted. Faith, whether in favor of something, or in fear of it, works the same way. He rules with fear."
"As did you."
"And most of you chose to rebel against me," Michael hoped his tone stayed level. "A courageous act of righteousness that I commend you all for. You stood up for what was right back then. I'm asking you to do the same now. I know you loved me as your leader – you proved it every day. And when you saw I was no longer fit to lead the brotherhood you rebelled and did what you felt was right. This is the same. Lucifer and his brothers are trying to conquer not just the human realm, but the Angels too. That’s not right. Stand against them.”
Raise the Dead Page 13
