by Michael Todd
Rose was thankful for his help since she was too weak to do it on her own. After he served her on a tray in the living room, he ran out to the local hardware store for new hinges. Carefully and quietly, he hung her door back where it belonged. He had kicked it down, after all. She smiled as he tested it. “You are pretty strong to kick that door down.”
Damian chuckled. “I had a bit of help.”
She rubbed her head absently. “Was that the other voice I heard? Was that your demon?”
“Yes, her name is Ravi.”
Rose smiled. “Tell her thank you as well.”
He took the tray from her, helped her up, and guided her into her room. “I think you should get some sleep. I will come back and check on you later, or I’ll send Max over. The soup is in the fridge if you want more.”
She stretched out on the bed and Damian pulled the covers up. “Thank you, Damian. You truly are a messenger of God.” She put her hand on his and smiled.
He smiled and patted her hand, then flipped the light off. Before he could leave, Rose called him. “Yes?” He paused in the doorway.
“I wouldn’t call Ravi a demon. She is also known as Ameretat.”
His eyes focused on the floor as he considered this. “But Ameretat was a man in folklore.”
Rose laughed and shifted to a more comfortable position. “Only because a man wrote it.”
Damian nodded and closed her bedroom door. Ravi was silent as he returned home, saying nothing about what Rose had revealed. He stopped at the table and picked up his coffee mug, grimacing at how cold it was. Oh, well, it was for a good cause, I suppose.
The priest hurried inside and set his cup in the sink before retrieving his two fallen angel books from the safe. He looked at his normal seat by the fire and shook his head. “I need more concentration than that.”
Within minutes, he’d donned his coat, grabbed his umbrella, and headed to the local church library six blocks from where he lived. He had discovered it on his second day, but he found it too quiet for him. Now, though, he needed the silence to allow his head to absorb all that had happened.
When he entered the library, the sound of the door opening echoed through the silent reading area. The nun at the front desk looked up from her book and smiled kindly. She had seen him a couple of times and knew he was permitted entry. He nodded a greeting and found a table tucked away from the others at the back. The people who frequented the library rarely paid any attention to anyone else, but he wanted to be safe.
The atmosphere was much like the church he had grown up in—serious and silent, with ornate fixtures and solemn furnishings. He hadn’t brought Max there yet, but he planned to. The only thing he didn’t like was that it seemed to put Ravi in a very quiet coma-like state. She was almost asleep and rarely paid attention to what he said. He wasn’t sure why it had that effect on her, but it didn’t seem to hurt her.
The demon cleared her throat and yawned. She had heard his thoughts. To answer you, I struggle with how holy this place is, so I go into hibernation. Wake me when you’re done.
Damian narrowed his eyes. For some reason, he didn’t believe her. She had been in some of the holiest churches on Earth and hadn’t reacted that way. He had a hard time believing that a library, church-owned or not, was holier than those. Nonetheless, he let her sleep and focused on his task.
He settled and retrieved the books from his well-worn bag but made no move to open them until he had taken a good look around. There were only four or five other priests in the library, and none paid him any heed. They tended to notice him more when it was full, but only because of the clothes he wore. He didn’t look like a typical priest, and several Catholics came there to study. They frowned on those who didn’t follow the church culture to a T, although Damian didn’t care. After one look, they quickly put him out their minds.
He shrugged his jacket off, draped it on the chair behind him, and rolled his shoulders. Unsure where to start, he shrugged and picked up the book Lilith had annotated. He had already started it, so why not continue? He flipped through the pages again to where he had left off but thought better of it. The words in the corners and sides weren’t really appropriate for a church setting.
The next chapter was titled, Walking on the Earth. Next to that Lilith had snarked, As opposed to swimming on the Earth? Flying on the Earth? Idiot. Damian smirked and turned the page, trying to ignore the notes and focus on the text. When he finished, he already knew the comments would be harsh. Lilith cussed the writer up one side and down the other, making her feelings clear.
Please, we eat only berries and drink wine? I mean, sure, give me some fucking booze, but berries? Try fucking double cheeseburgers and donuts, bitch.
Damian stifled a laugh with his hand over his lips. On the entire right side of the page, Pandora had played her own game of connect the dots. The words were strung together by etched vines shaped like an erect penis with two overly large dangling testicles. At the bottom the note read, Short and stubby, this is how I think this writer walks around. His balls make him walk like he has a shoe up his ass, or maybe his fucking head.
He closed the book slightly as a priest walked by and nodded a greeting. Damian smiled back and waited for him to pass before resuming. He read through the rest of the chapter and shook his head. She must have had no friends at that point. I hope she never met this poor soul. He flipped the page, and two folded pieces of paper dropped into his lap. His eyes narrowed, and he closed the book and placed it on the table. The old paper looked fragile and scorched at the edges. Carefully, he unfolded both letters and smoothed them carefully on the desk in front of him.
A furtive glance assured him that no one was paying him any attention. Damian hunched over the table and ran his finger across the papers. Strange energy seemed to rise from the first. He jerked his hand back and cleared his throat, feeling Ravi wake. She must have felt the same surge as he had. For some reason, Damian had the oddest feeling that he shouldn’t read it, but it was too conspicuous not to.
Finally, he slipped his gloves on under the table and stretched his fingers to loosen the cold leather a little. He held the first letter in his lap and covered the second with the book.
Dearest New Wife,
It has been 3567 very long and chilly days in the caverns. Your robes still lay across the throne of bones, awaiting your return. At first, I must admit, I was angry. However, after torturing a few thousand souls and feasting on their skins, I began to feel better. I remembered that you have a free soul, and this “vacation” you have taken is only temporary. I need to let you spread your scales and do what you must to be happy.
Nonetheless, you are the Queen, and as such, you have certain responsibilities. Your brother has picked up the slack, but let’s be honest. He is nowhere as cruel and evil as you are. You must return to the inner rings immediately. I know you like to defy my rule, but it is imperative that you do not thwart me. You know my wrath can be harsh and swift, and my love for you is stronger. Do not be fooled, though. I will do what is necessary to secure your presence. We took the unholy vow, which means you are the only one who can rule as Queen for eternity.
You have betrayed this and abandoned me. Come back. I will send the Leviathan for you if you do not respond. I have been told you are somewhere in Korea, and I will kill every human in my path. Be warned.
Yours in Darkness,
Lucifer
Damian’s mouth dropped open for a moment, and he chuckled. The handwriting seemed to be in some sort of red liquid, thinner than ink and soaked into the paper. He removed a glove and rubbed the page between his fingers, considering the texture. It felt strange, as if it were made of some sort of hide.
Human, Ravi said abruptly. Human skin.
He dropped the letter on the desk and wiped his hand on his shirt. Once he’d cleared his throat and replaced the glove, he picked the other page up carefully. Thankfully, it appeared to be some sort of thick paper. This letter was considerably shorter.
Lucifer,
I told you my time there would be limited, yet you insisted on pulling your masculine bullshit and tried to control me. I do not care that you have a title. You will not force me into what I do not wish to do. Like I told you before, my time with you is limited. I will return soon to run the kingdom, and we can discuss our future. You were aware from the moment I took the throne that my wings were still there, waiting to be brought to reckoning. I do not do well in your kind of hell.
Please walk my precious Cerberus. I will arrive when I please. If you send your Leviathan, I will make a mockery of it. I promise you.
XO… Lilith
The priest’s eyes widened, and he folded the letters quickly and shoved them into the pocket with his cross. He sat in silence, completely stunned that he had just read what amounted to love letters between Lucifer and Lilith. That was something he definitely needed to keep to himself. And what did she mean by wings?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Damian struggled to assimilate all the information he’d received that day. He tried desperately to get Ravi to talk to him, but she either gave him one-word answers or didn’t respond. After several hours of trying to hide his frustration in the quiet library, he slammed the fallen angels book closed and shoved it in his bag.
He tapped his fingers on his thigh for a moment and considered ways to shift Ravi from her silent mode. You know, I was thinking. My bag is pretty old, and I could possibly use a replacement. You wouldn’t happen to know a shop where I could find one, would you?
She perked up immediately. Shopping? Did I hear that you need to go shopping? Has hell finally frozen over after all these millennia?
Damian chuckled. Calm down. It’s just a bag.
Ravi giggled. Actually, I know the perfect place. It’s been there for a very long time and has some of the best and most fashionable custom bags for a man like you.
I’m not sure what ‘a man like me’ means, but okay. Where are we going?
The demon was shamelessly excited. House of Fraser. They opened their first shop in 1849, selling finery in Glasgow, and now have a huge store in London.
Damian gathered his things and left the library. Just so you know, I am considering a new bag. That doesn’t mean I’ll go nuts and buy one, but I will be straight and honest with you. I will not wear a man purse. I want something similar to the one I have now; something classic, and I want it to last thirty years like this one has.
Ravi chuckled. What you refer to is actually called a Murse, and don’t worry, I don’t want you to embarrass me. No small shoulder bags for you. I won’t even make you look at the ones that go around your waist.
He cringed at the thought. I appreciate that. It’s not really my style, although I’m not sure I really have a defined style. I like to think of myself as exotic.
She laughed loudly as they climbed into a cab. I don’t think “exotic” came to my mind, but okay, we’ll go with it.
They arrived, and Damian was relieved to see it was a larger department store like a Macy’s back home. They wandered through until they found the bags section.
As they meandered, happily distracted by the different styles, he decided it was time for him to ask a few questions. Let me ask you something. Do you like hell? Is it homey and comfortable for you?
Ravi scoffed. Please. It’s hot as balls, and there are no cushions on anything. The food is terrible. You can’t relax because of all the shrieking and moaning. It’s a hideous place. I tried to make my house there comfortable, but it was pointless. I now spend as much time topside as possible.
Damian nodded and ran his hand across a leather bag. How long have you been a demon? I mean, from what Rose says, you are more than a demon, but you have yet to confirm that.
Ravi sighed. I am not Ameretat, although the thought is sweet. I am related to her in a long succession I knew nothing about until after death, but I am not a fallen angel. I merely know a lot of them.
Before your death? Damian asked.
She cleared her throat with obvious discomfort. I guess it’s time I let you in on my secrets. Especially if I’ll be stuck with you for a while. I was a human many, many years ago, born and raised in the new Baton Rouge. It was a time of excess for many, not excluding myself. I did not know my mother, and my father never spoke of her. He owned a large shipping company and was very rich, and I spent my days traveling the world, seeing the sights, and doing whatever I wanted. Mine was a life without lack. I partied and danced the nights away in Paris, London, Egypt, and the islands, and had many lovers but only one true love. My life was what every woman of that time wished theirs could be.
Damian listened closely. Did you have a family?
Ravi went quiet for a moment. No. No family of my own. When my father decided he wanted to pass the company on to me, I realized that everything would have to change. I wasn’t happy about that.
He was shocked. I don’t mean to be surprised, but I assumed you were a demon created in hell like so many of the others. I didn’t realize you were a trapped soul, damned there for living a less than godly life during your human time on Earth.
She chuckled. I wish it were that simple. Sure, I didn’t live the godliest life, but I wasn’t a bad person. I fed the hungry, shared my wealth, cared for others, and did good deeds. I tithed, and I gave godly advice to others. But when it came down to it, I had no choice but to enter hell when I died. There was no option for me to even linger on Earth as a spirit.
Damian stared at a bag without really seeing it. I don’t understand. I know we don’t have a choice in our destiny once we have died, but you make it sound predetermined.
Ravi groaned. I really don’t want to talk about this yet. I made a wrong choice in life, the last one I ever made. That, coupled with my family heritage, predetermined my future in the fiery pits of hell. I was not sent there as a common demon, but to me, there is no real difference. Hell is hell.
Damian nodded, surprised by the surge of sadness he sensed in her. I suppose it is, for those who don’t want to be there. Whether you are in chains or on a couch, none of it is the preferred scenario. I do feel sorry for you, and I hate to say it that way. You lived what sounds like a magnificent life. You saw the world at a time when it was only a shadow of what it is today. Were you young when you passed?
I was in my late twenties. Now, of course, it would be considered very young to have died. But again, this isn’t the time or place for that conversation. I think I have given enough of myself to the wagging tongues.
Am I a wagging tongue?
Ravi laughed. No, it’s an expression. I used to hear my aunt say it all the time when I was alive. The gossips, the old biddies who liked to tell everyone’s business. That’s probably why I am so good at privacy now. I had a lot of practice as a human. I was pretty much the same girl alive that I am dead, only in hell I have scales. Dreadful things, and they fucking itch.
Damian wanted to press further. He wanted to know who she was and why she’d been predetermined for hell. He began to ask a question, but Ravi had already changed the subject. She gasped and pushed his attention to the right.
Look at that bag. It’s exactly what I had in mind. Sturdy, with lots of pockets. You can lock it, but it’s still soft to the touch. Brown leather with thick stitching, so you’ll have it for a very long time, just like the hobo sack you carry now.
The priest frowned at his bag. Hey, this thing has been through the wringer. It has seen serious things during our time together.
Ravi maintained an even tone. Mmm. So, have I, but you won’t find me wrinkly and worn.
Damian rolled his eyes and picked the bag up. It definitely had a more fashionable flair, but he liked it, which surprised him. He seldom liked what Ravi chose. Like the suit, though, she had managed to grab his attention with that one. It was sturdy, too, and he thought he could store a good number of weapons in the thing. A latched leather-lined pouch on the front would be perfect for his cross when he didn�
�t wear his trench.
He knew the demon had distracted him on purpose. While he wanted badly to delve into her background, she was determined to end the conversation. She had revealed more than he’d expected, so he decided it would do for now. And she was right about one thing—they had plenty of years ahead of them, so he had time to discover more. There was something deeply hidden, something bigger than being related to a fallen angel. It was significant enough that she wanted to hide it from him at any cost.
With the current state of the war, any secret about demons and angels could be the key to victory. He hoped that hers didn’t impact the conflict because he wasn’t sure how he would handle it if it did. Katie had been created to handle Pandora, but he was not equipped for anything remotely close to their relationship. The secrets nagged at him, and God knew he held his fair share of them. Between his demon, Pandora, and the cardinal, he was about as full of secrets as one man could get.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Damian opened the front door of the house and entered with a large paper bag. He closed it and tossed his house keys on the side table. The place was chilly, but he wanted to square his things away before he made another fire. He placed his old bag on the dining room table and the new one beside it.
He whistled intermittently as he removed the books from of old bag and dumped the pens and loose papers. One by one, he stationed the items neatly in his new bag, even discovering a hidden inside pocket where he could keep things he didn’t want visible.
The fallen angels book would fit easily, making it the perfect hidey-hole for it when he was on the move. Well, it looks like you made another fantastic choice.