Death's Mantle 3

by Harmon Cooper

  “Go where?”

  “To Europe, to the Middle East, to one of these old churches, the ones built hundreds and hundreds of years ago. When the choir sings, when the bells ring, it’s an entirely different experience, one that is more out of body than what I’ve seen and experienced here in the States. But they’re all moving in the same direction, so I suppose something could be said about that.”

  “But back to Heaven, because I’m still curious here,” Lucian said as he sipped from his coffee again. “Do you have a place there, an apartment, or something? That’s what I was trying to ask you.”

  “A home, yes…”

  “And what does it look like? I mean, I’m picturing a cottage by the sea, big terrace or balcony, lots of space, lots of cushions, maybe a library with a spiral staircase somewhere, a big kitchen, all-white marble, maybe a prayer room that has a bunch of gold stuff in it, you know, religious artifacts.” Lucian laughed. “Actually, I have no idea.”

  She smirked at him. “It looks like a home, one that you wouldn’t recognize because you didn’t exist during the time that I was alive, or should I say, the time I was first alive. It reminds me of who I was.”

  “So gardens, stones walls, primitive carpentry. I’m picturing like a well, a stable, some dirt roads, maybe cobblestone, waterfall, flowers. That sort of thing?”

  “Sure,” she said, her face suddenly blank. “That sort of thing.”

  Lucian couldn’t tell by the tone of Danira’s voice how she was feeling about this conversation, but he didn’t want to push it, so he let a sliver of silence spread between them as he glanced to the other side of the cliff, to the spot in the ground where the city once existed, the horizon now blank.

  “I was wondering about that,” Danira told him.

  “That would be my predecessor’s doing.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s kind of a weird story,” Lucian explained. “And I don’t want to relive that process.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Let’s just say it wasn’t what I expected,” he said, recalling his predecessor making sure that Lucian had made the robot anatomically correct.

  And why had he been the one forced to do it? Why hadn’t his predecessor just done it himself? Old Death was probably just trying to fuck with him.

  The bastard.

  “What are you grinning about?” Danira asked.

  “What you said, long story, but if you’re interested in hearing…”

  “As long as you keep the chocolate coming,” she said, showing him her empty plate, “I’m all ears.”

  More chocolate appeared, Danira gladly taking a piece.

  Lucian explained to her that his predecessor had transferred what was left of his mantlecore from the cat currently sitting on the shoreline to one of Lucian’s robots, and Lucian had made it anatomically correct.

  “Oh…” she said, Lucian not able to read if she thought this was funny, or his exultation had offended her in some way.

  Finally, she chuckled. “I guess that sort of makes sense.”

  “Yeah, especially for those two. They are like rabbits. They should have just become rabbits.”

  Danira laughed at that. “Now that’s funny. I don’t want to try to pretend what that looks like, a member of the Progeny of Darkness now in the body of a robot having relations with a fallen angel. What a world.”

  “Yeah,” Lucian said with a shrug, “what a world.”

  And so it continued, the two of them sometimes connecting through their conversation, other times not connecting as much as they thought they would have liked, but both of them trying, both engaged in their discussion as they enjoyed coffee and chocolate.

  Lucian thought about summoning his floating television for them to play a two-player video game while still seated before the lake, but a voice at the back of his head told him to try to take this into his workshop, that perhaps it would be a little more intimate there, especially if they were closer together.

  After all, she had relaxed on his bed earlier.

  What would stop her from doing the same thing again?

  But how to steer the conversation to that point?

  Ironically, it was Danira who suggested they retire his workshop, that she wanted to relax on something more comfortable.

  “Yeah,” said Lucian, practically knocking his chair over as he stood. He swept his arm in front of him, gesturing for her to go in front of him. “After you.”

  “You’re going to need a bigger and nicer bed than that,” the angel said when she reached the threshold of his workspace.

  “You think?”

  “Do you care if I make it comfortable?”

  “Do whatever you’d like,” he told her earnestly as his dark robes disappeared, replaced by something that was much more comfortable. They were more form-fitting than a normal pair of house shorts or a black T-shirt to rest in, but that was pretty much what Lucian was going for.

  Danira blinked and the bed grew in size, almost as if she had clicked on it with a mouse and expanded its dimensions.

  The mattress doubled in thickness, the sheets turned white, a down comforter stacked on top of the white sheets, the headboard rising until it almost reached the ceiling of his workshop.

  Dozens of pillows appeared, each of the pillowcases lined in elaborate frill.

  “How’s this?”

  “It’s…” Lucian couldn’t help but remember the way his ex-girlfriend Katy liked to decorate, the usage of pillows and cushions, minus the pithy phrases.

  Danira had a similar flare, but her decorating ability was leveled up, the details taking Lucian off guard, from the precise stitching on the duvet, to the sheer craftsmanship of the bed she had conjured, and inevitably, just how comfortable it was as Lucian slowly relaxed into it.

  Energy shimmered around Danira as golden pajamas took shape on her body, the fabric with pale white pinstripes moving through it. At first it was loose, but then it slowly started to move along the contours of her body, a silky sheen to the fabric now.

  Lucian’s heart fluttered as the angel sat next to him. She scooted just a bit closer to him and used the headboard to prop herself up.

  “Well?” she asked as a golden hair tie appeared in her hand, which she quickly ran through her hair, tightening her locks into a long ponytail.

  Lucian cleared his throat, going with the first thought that came to mind. “Yeah, video games. Do you want to play games?”

  “I wouldn’t really consider myself a gamer...”

  “I know, you told me. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be able to play. Let’s see…” Lucian’s controller appeared in his hand. He summoned another controller, this one gold with white trim.

  “That’s a nice touch,” Danira said as she took the controller from him.

  “I thought you’d like that.”

  His flat screen television lowered from the ceiling and expanded in size, the bars keeping it in place detaching, the television now floating before them.

  At first, Lucian thought a first-person shooter would be a fun way to get started, but considering her past, and more specifically how she had been killed the last time she was human, he decided against it, going for a different game entirely.

  “I’ve got just the game,” he said as the TV flickered on.

  Bubbly music started playing from the speakers that surrounded Lucian’s bed, Danira raising an eyebrow at the screen. “Are you sure this is a game that adults should be playing?”

  “It’ll be sweet, trust me,” he told her as the intro music finished and the words Enigma Kart flashed on the screen. “I played a little, but only just a demo.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I didn’t have anyone to play it with before now,” he told her. “And I wasn’t interested in the first player campaign.”

  “Enigma Kart,” Danira read as the words flashed on the screen, followed by a string of race cars chasing after one another.

  Zero Enigma ha
d been such a big hit that an up-and-coming game developer had won a bid to make an anime-styled racing game out of it. There had been other games based on the flagship brand as well, from a strategy RPG that bored Lucian to tears to a tabletop card game that also had an app.

  Once Lucian selected two-player mode, they were presented with a lineup of base characters, all of which Lucian knew could be customized.

  Wanting to get right to the action, in more ways than one, Lucian decided not to do any customization, selecting a barbarian, Danira going with a sword maiden.

  Next, they were able to customize their vehicles, Lucian choosing an all-black racer with a red spoiler and oversized wheels; Danira went for the exact opposite, hers a white motorcycle with tiny golden wheels that look like they shouldn’t be able to support anything.

  “And you say you’ve never played a game before…”

  “I never said that,” she told him as Lucian selected a course, one that wrapped through the city of Karonyoff. Once prompted, he selected the next course, this one set in Nuxvar, where the ghost people lived. His final selection was Murgnar, the southern, coastal city which had most of its racetrack underwater.

  This was the one that had been in the demo he’d played, Lucian already familiar with a few of the track’s shortcuts.

  And so it began, the next two hours of Lucian’s strange life spent racing with Danira, the angel growing increasingly competitive, especially after he destroyed her in the early rounds.

  She was a quick learner, though, and by the end of their session, Danira was easily keeping pace with him, managing to beat him a couple times as well, and silently pumping her fist in the air when she did.

  She also grew annoyed with Lucian every time he knocked her off course, playfully, or maybe not so playfully, elbowing him at one point, and nearly throwing her controller at him as he laughed, his avatar speeding ahead.

  “Okay, okay,” she said once a glittering prompt on the screen asked if they would like to race again. “I’m spent. That’s enough racing for one day.”

  “It has been a day,” Lucian said, relaxing a little, “I’ll give you that.”

  Danira set the golden controller on her side, and lowered herself fully onto the bed.

  Lucian did the same, the screen in front of him melting away, the sky darkening. He thought about shutting the door to the front of his workshop but kept it open, figuring a breeze would be nice.

  His hands behind his head, propped up by the pillow, Lucian stared up at the ceiling, wondering where this was supposed to go, how this was supposed to end.

  While they did have a pretty large bed, it would be nothing for him to roll over and embrace her.

  But he didn’t know if that was what she wanted at the moment. While she had been playful while they were racing, and she was lying in his bed, she hadn’t done anything to indicate she was interested, Lucian most certainly watching for any sign that would indicate to him that he should steam ahead.

  A voice at the back of his head told him he was being an idiot, that the angel wouldn’t have shown up in a nighty or made a large bed for them to sleep in if she didn’t want something more.

  But was that actually the vibe?

  He couldn’t tell.

  Still, he had to go for it.

  There was no telling what tomorrow would bring; he knew they were in for a tough fight against Wyatt which could lead to certain doom, even if they came better prepared this time.

  No, Lucian was going to have to go for it, at least make some type of move.

  Even though he knew that it could lead to him getting decapitated, Lucian rolled over, shifting closer to her.

  “Let’s just be together tonight,” Danira whispered, turning to Lucian, placing her hand on his cheek. “I still don’t know how I feel about any of this,” she said, the words cutting deep, Lucian cringing.

  “However you want to take it, let’s take it that way,” he told her.

  “Tonight, I just… I think I just want to be held.”

  Lucian tried to contain the excitement that seemed to explode through him upon hearing the statement.

  “It’s definitely within my repertoire,” he said, noticing that even though it was now dark in his workshop, there was a glow to the angel that reminded him of fading Christmas lights, of the fireflies that came out in droves one summer in Beverly.

  “I’m still making sense of all this,” she said softly, turning so he could place his arm around her, their bodies pressing together.

  “I think we both are.”

  He could smell her hair now, which gave off a light coconut scent, everything about her fresh. The glow radiating off her skin slowly began to dim as her breaths slowed, and they both drifted off to sleep.

  He didn’t know exactly when the dream started to play, but Lucian was suddenly in the living room of his old apartment back in Beverly, Massachusetts, doing what he always did when he was by himself, his video game controller in hand.

  Lucian’s phone buzzed and he looked at it to see that it was a message from Connor letting him know that he was almost there, to make sure he was wearing pants.

  At least that’s what Lucian thought the message said, the words blurring just as soon as he tried to make out what they said, feeling as if he had intuited them more than he had actually read the text.

  Lucian was just unpausing his game when a knock at the door startled him.

  He stood as carefully as possible, no longer as spry as he once was.

  At least, that was what he told himself.

  Stepping around his shoes, Lucian made his way to the front door and opened it to find his brother standing there, Connor’s cheeks red from the cold, a pizza in his hands.

  “I thought you might be hungry,” his brother said, playfully inhaling the pizza’s smell.

  The melted cheese and sizzling meat met Lucian’s nostrils. “Fuck yeah,” he said as he stepped aside, letting his brother in.

  “I figure you need to eat some food,” said Connor as he handed Lucian the pizza box. He took off his jacket and hung it near the door, removing a scarf as well.

  “I really do. I haven’t eaten all day. The medicine…”

  “You’ll be all right, bro. We just got to get through this spell.”

  Lucian set the cardboard pizza box on the bar and opened it, licking his lips as he looked down at the pie, pockets of grease piling up in some of its crevices, hunks of meat glistening, a slightly burned edge, a couple bubbles near the crust, which for some reason was always one of Lucian’s favorite parts.

  “They call this one garbage pie, believe it or not,” Connor said, laughing. “It’s supposed to have everything on it but the kitchen sink.”

  “Are you sure the kitchen sink isn’t on there?”

  Connor looked at the pie. “I don’t see it, but maybe baked inside somehow, you know, like one of those stuffed crust pizzas. Plates?”

  “I got plates,” Lucian said, turning toward the cabinet.

  “Let me get them.” Connor returned with two plates. He was just about to touch the pizza with his bare hand when he stopped himself, going to one of the drawers in Lucian’s kitchen and coming back with a pie server.

  “Ah, come on,” Lucian said, about to just grab a slice.

  “We’ve got to keep things clean these days,” Connor told him.

  He used the pie server to pry free two big slices and placed them on a plate, which he then handed to Lucian.

  “I should’ve picked up some soda,” Connor said, heading toward the fridge. He opened it and found a bottle of sparkling water, which he set on the counter along with two glasses.

  Once he poured the glasses, he handed one to Lucian.

  “I wish it was beer,” Lucian said.

  “Not with your medication,” Connor told him.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to sneak one, would it?” Lucian asked.

  Connor chuckled. “Maybe next time. Look, Ma wants me to talk to you about moving back
in…”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “At least let me finish, bro. I know that you don’t want to move back in with her, but I told her I’d say something to you about it. And here’s me saying something about it. I have to at least say that I talked to you about it, just in case she asks. You’re going to get better. You just got a dose of bad luck here. I just know it. Bad luck. That’s all this is. You know what Dad would say…”

  “That bad luck runs in our family?”

  Connor nodded. “But I never believed that shit. Did you?”

  Lucian shrugged, everything blurring for a moment and then returning to focus. “Sometimes people make their own luck, sometimes their luck makes them.”

  “Look at you, getting all philosophical in your old age.”

  Lucian laughed. “I think I’m paraphrasing that from a video game.”

  “Figures.”

  “Anyway, thanks for giving me the heads-up,” Lucian said as he bit into his slice of pizza. “I’m sure she’ll bring it up at some point, and I can say that you did your duty as a good older brother and talked to me about it.”

  “That’s all I’m asking for,” said Connor as he folded a slice in two and took a big bite out of it. “Fuck, that’s good.”

  “It really is,” Lucian said, going for his next slice.

  Once Connor swallowed, he spoke again. “You know, once this blows over, I’m thinking about asking Sam to marry me.”

  Lucian laughed. “You already have a kid with her; you should have married her two years ago. I already consider her my sister-in-law.”

  “I know, I know, but things got in the way,” Connor said, chomping down on his piece of pizza. “Her parents died and, well, you know how it goes. Anyway, if I do, or I should say, when I ask her, you know that you’re going to be the best man, right? I mean, I shouldn’t have to tell you, but just so you know.”