Slowly making his way over to what had become an all too regular customer, Danny O'Malley frowned. He'd seen his share of customers intent of drowning their sorrows in the depths of his liquor before, but this time was different. Something was wrong...far wrong. "Don't you think you've had enough tonight, sonny?" he asked, absently wiping a rag across the scarred countertop.
"I still remember who the fuck I am and what the hell I do for a living, Danny. So, I'm thinking the answer is the same as the one I gave you half an hour ago," Matt replied sarcastically, eyeing his empty glass angrily. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, couldn't this guy just pour the fucking liquor and walk the hell away like any normal barkeep, he silently asked himself.
"The drink won't solve the problem, Hunter," Danny sighed, eyeing the glass that was completely empty and mentally tallying the number of times he had already filled it tonight.
"Look, Danny," Matt said softly, meeting the old man's eyes as he clutched the empty glass, "I've already seen my priest tonight. I don't need your crap, too. Just bring me the drink."
"I'll bring you some coffee," Danny retorted with a pointed look, shaking his head. "And I'll be callin' you a cab while I'm gettin' it," he added with a tone of finality before ambling away.
"Well, fuck," Matt muttered, dropping his head into his hand as that horrible odor assaulted his nose again. Turning his head, he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the smell, but found only two men that appeared deep in conversation. One with hair so golden it almost blinded him, the other...the one now facing him with eyes as black as night.
Meeting that hooded gaze, Matt suppressed a shudder. The fucker appeared to have a staring problem, those obsidian eyes boring into his own. Black. Empty. And as soulless as the ones he'd stared into hours earlier. Glaring back at the man when he smiled coldly at him, Matt blinked quickly. Fuck, he really was getting shitfaced. He could have sworn those eyes had just flashed red at him.
Watching as the bastard behind him raised his glass in silent toast, Matt turned around in his seat again. Fuck him. Whoever he was, he wasn't Matt's problem. Not tonight.
No, tonight was earmarked for something other than starting a bar fight with a complete stranger. He'd added enough black marks to his soul today without adding another. It was a sad, but true fact that his soul was irreparably stained. And nothing Father Edward said could convince him otherwise.
He was hell bound. And the sooner he served himself up to the Devil, the better. A few more years wouldn't make a difference, not with the things he'd done.
There was no forgiveness for killing a man in cold blood. There couldn't be. What he'd done this afternoon had made him every bit as feral as the unsubs he hunted. His worst fears had been confirmed. He'd become what he despised the most.
A murderer.
He was someone that had killed this afternoon as ruthlessly as the bastard he'd eradicated.
Oh, he'd gone to confession. Even his lack of faith couldn't erase years of religious Catholic conditioning. He'd even been absolved of his sin, at least according to Edward. He could still hear his best friend telling him that his repentance was all it took to save his soul.
And he wanted to believe that.
Except, the problem was that he wasn't sorry for the choice he'd made. Deep in his bones, he'd enjoyed ending that life. He'd served as judge, jury and executioner...violated every personal code he'd ever had and he couldn't find one iota of remorse inside himself. But, then again his intentions had been righteous, hadn't they?
But he couldn't help but remember his grandmother’s favorite muttered warning...usually thrown in his unwitting direction.
"The road to hell is always paved with good intentions," he murmured aloud, staring down at his still empty glass.
Chapter Twelve
Snapping his well-manicured fingers in front of his enemy's face, Gabriel ordered sharply, "Are you even listening any longer, Samael? You always did have the attention span of a gnat. You've always blamed The One for the lack of unicorns on the mortal plane, but I distinctly remember Him telling you to collect two of your favorite animal. Even though those animals stank to high Heaven," he muttered under his breath. "Worse than the billygoat, they were."
Tearing his gaze from the mortal at the bar, Satan rolled his dark eyes as he easily placed his index finger against his thumb and flicked his fingers at the offending hand in front of him. "Don't be so judgmental, or I'll tell Big Daddy you're speaking derogatorily about not one, but two of his creations. You'd hate to have to go to Celestial Sensitivity Training, now wouldn't you?"
"You're one to talk. I believe you held the record for repeating the course more than any other angel in the ranks," Gabriel retorted, then drew in a sharp breath. If he wasn't careful, he was going to allow himself to be distracted….again. Straightening his shoulders, he said, calmly, "Back to the subject at hand. Are you interested in the deal or not?"
"Oh, I'm always up for a good wager...especially when the stakes are so delectable," Satan replied with a nod, wriggling his eyebrows as he snagged a tall neck bottle from a passing waitress's tray. Taking a healthy sip, he added, "So lay your cards on the table, Angel. But don't forget that if I don't like the game, I walk. With what I came in with. Namely, Matthew Hunter's darkened soul."
"He hasn't chosen you, Lucifer," Gabriel insisted, well aware that he was obviously repeating a well-worn refrain. A few eons in the netherworld had obviously done nothing to improve the evil one's memory.
Inhaling deeply and dramatically, Satan sniffed the air again. "Don't you smell that, Angel? That sweet aroma of despair with just the slightest twinge of self-loathing? And maybe just a smidge of doubt in your Almighty God? Do you really think I couldn't have him like that?" he asked, snapping his fingers, sparks flying as the thumb and finger connected.
Rolling his eyes at the display of pyrotechnics, Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "Haven't you had enough of the parlor tricks?" he asked acrimoniously. "The One knows I have."
"Oh, go tell it on a mountain somewhere, Gab-O," Satan chuckled, cocking his handsome head as he glanced toward Hunter again, unable to resist gazing upon his latest prey.
"Might I remind you that the last time you picked a fight with the Holy Father, you lost, Brother," Gabriel noted haughtily.
"Yeah," Lucifer retorted as he smirked, "but, this time, it's His rules I'm playing by. I'm not going to be held responsible when he tries to change the rules of the game mid-play."
Lips tightening as he stared across the table at the inscrutable being looking back at him, Gabriel sighed. "Be that as it may, Lucifer, The One is trying to be fair. I've been authorized to offer you a one-time deal."
"Go on," Satan drawled, stroking the goatee he wore on his chin. "I'm intrigued."
"Name another soul you want, Lucifer. Any soul. If you can tempt them away from the Light, they belong to you," Gabriel offered against his better judgment. Oh, how he hoped The One knew what he was doing. Of course, He was omnipotent. All-seeing. All-knowing. But this was a dangerous game to play with one as well versed in being wicked as the all-time champ across from him.
"Any soul?" Lucifer asked carefully, his eyes beginning to glow as they focused on the Archangel sitting across from him.
"That's the directive I was given. Of course, before a binding final agreement is made, I will check with the Almighty one last time."
"Of course," Lucifer mocked, rolling his obsidian eyes. "Daddy's favorite angel wouldn't want to make a mistake."
"I've found benefits to erring on the side of caution. Perhaps if you'd learned that lesson eons ago, we wouldn't be sitting here now," Gabriel petulantly reminded his eternal foe.
"Goody goody," Satan snickered. Hell, he always had enjoyed getting a rise from Gabriel even before the Fall, and the intervening years had only made the experience more enjoyable. "So afraid of disappointing, Big Bad Daddy, aren't you?"
"Yes, as you should have been, Lucifer," Gabriel replied solemnly. "So much pain cou
ld have been eliminated if you'd only..."
"Came to him on bended knee begging for forgiveness that I should never have needed in the first place," Satan hissed, his serpent's tongue briefly appearing between his parted lips.
"You don't frighten me, Lucifer," Gabriel said tiredly. "Pander the snake to another more unsuspecting than I, will you? I am simply waiting for you to answer a direct question. Are you interested or not?"
"What are the terms?" Satan snarled at the angel, irritated that Gabriel had merely shrugged off his display of anger.
"Terms?" Gabriel echoed, his blonde brows furrowing.
"Big Daddy always has terms. And probably a list of conditions, too. Don't try to fool me, Gabriel. I once worked at His side as well. I know his tricks. The Big Guy has loopholes for the loopholes. And I want to be fully informed of them going into this. I won't render my decision otherwise. And," Satan warned, leaning forward on the bench, "I'm growing hungry for a darkened soul this night, Gabriel. I'd talk fast. Matthew Hunter's will do as well as any I've tasted this century."
Shaking his regal head, Gabriel grimaced. "You sicken me, Lucifer. Can you not smell the human decency wafting from him?"
"It'll only make him tastier," Satan deemed coldly. "Tick, tock, Gabriel," the Devil mocked, tapping the gold Rolex on his wrist. "I'm peckish and we wouldn't want this human form's blood sugar to plummet, would we? I'd hate to devour that sweet little waitress of ours from earlier," he sighed, smiling ever so evilly at the redhead as she passed their table again. "She really is such a good fuck."
Chapter Thirteen
"No matter what language you say that word in, it's still vulgar," Gabriel retorted, his lips tightening at the mere sound of the common word. Straightening his shoulders, he said, sternly, "Keep your mind on the issue at hand, Lucifer. There's more at stake here than your satisfaction and baser nature."
"Obviously, you have forgotten that my satisfaction is all that matters," the king of the underworld replied, even as he winked at the waitress who was making a second pass at their table. Tearing his eyes away long enough to glance back at his seat mate, he grinned as he saw the thunderclouds gathering in the angel's gaze. "I can see my work here is almost done."
"Not until you agree to the deal," Gabriel ground out, pressing his fingers against the wooden table. "Are you in agreement or not?"
Shrugging, his leather jacket falling easily against his shoulders, Satan leaned back in the booth as he spread his arms over the top of the seat. "The way I see it, I've got something the Big Man wants. And I think that's worth more than just a measly little trade. Don't you?"
Narrowing his eyes, Gabriel stared across the table at the Devil in human form. "You realize that the Creator can simply take what he wants. He's under no obligation to negotiate with you."
"And your Boss knows that I can unleash Hell on earth any time I want," Satan said with a deliberate smile, one inky brow rising up his forehead. "Does He really want to see how many of these mortal souls he's entitled to? I'm betting his numbers aren't what they used to be, are they? In case you haven't noticed, Angel, humanity has lost its collective faith. In large part, thanks to your Father's big belief in "free will"."
"The Holy Father knows exactly what he's doing and how he wishes to achieve it," Gabriel replied dutifully, though he had to admit, the Fallen One made an excellent point. The numbers of the righteous were diminishing with the passage of time. And while the Father remained unconcerned, the Son had voiced his concerns on many occasions.
And yet, the Creator remained unfazed. Heaven help them all.
Honestly, Jesus was ready to pull his hair out. And it was such a beautiful mane, Gabriel mentally sighed.
"Besides, you haven't answered my original question, my friend," Satan said smoothly.
Blinking as he tried to turn his own attention back to the task at hand, Gabriel frowned. "I apologize. Your tendency to talk me in circles has given the mortal body I've assumed a headache."
"There's an excellent cure for that," the Devil said with a wicked grin as he wriggled his eyebrows. "She's about 5'4" and has the biggest ti-"
"Enough," Gabriel hissed, his open palm slamming against the table with jarring force. "Name your conditions, Lucifer."
Arching his eyebrow, the Devil cocked his head. "I don't remember you being so impatient last we met, Brother. It's not often I get to visit an old friend," he pouted.
"And as you've said many times, we're not friends, are we?" Gabriel replied, striving to remain in control. Oh, what he wouldn't give to light up the being in front of him with a godbolt. "A friend would be willing to listen to reason. A friend would take another friend's loyal counsel."
Leaning forward, Lucifer crooked a finger at the Archangel, beckoning him closer. "Listen closely, Gabriel," he said, his velvety voice deceptively soft. "I will never seek forgiveness for a sin I don't believe I committed. Never."
The smell of sulfur hung in the air between them, and Gabriel pulled back ever so slightly. "You've made your position clear, Lucifer. Now allow me to make mine as apparent as yours. You will not leave here tonight with Hunter's soul. Either you can accept the offer the Almighty has made so generously. Or, you can fight me for him. And if you recall, despite my scholarly attitude, you've yet to best me in a battle of brute force."
Lifting his chin as he listened to the Archangel's grim pronouncement, his respect for the other being rose a few notches…against his better judgment. "All right, Gabriel," the Devil said pleasantly, rolling his eyes as he tried to ignore the twinges of morality he might be feeling. "About this proposed offer, you haven't answered the question. Is it any soul other than Matthew Hunter's that's up for grabs? Or, like everything else, does your God have a loophole?"
"That was my understanding from On High," Gabriel replied suspiciously, attempting to ignore the sarcasm in the other being's voice.
"Well, that makes things very interesting, doesn't it?" Satan said with gleaming eyes as he rubbed his palms together. "So many children to choose from," he murmured, looking around the bar with glimmering red eyes.
"Just remember that in order to have them, they must follow you into the darkness willingly. The One isn't just going to hand one of his children over because you want them."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Satan grumbled, his earlier darkened mood well back in place. "Free fucking will. I've heard it all before. For eons and eons. Same song, same dance. Jesus, Gabriel, don't you ever just feel like breaking into the cha-cha or some shit?"
"Lucifer, I grow weary," Gabriel muttered tiredly, massaging his temple. "The other part of this is that you name the soul now. As in, tonight. The One demands an answer from you immediately."
"Yeah, 'cause I always ask "How high?" when He says "Jump!"" Satan snickered, although, honestly, this newest offer was intriguing to say the least. He had a chance before him to wreak havoc on his Heavenly counterparts. And who was he to turn his back on opportunity?
Couple that with an insatiable need to gain the upper hand on The One and...
"I accept," the Devil stated succinctly, an impish smile playing at his lips.
"I don't like that look, Lucifer," Gabriel said slowly, his discomfort growing as the Devil's smile only widened.
"What? I'm accepting your terms," Satan declared innocently, holding up his hands in defeat, the slightly pointed nails glimmering in the dimmed light. "Isn't this the part where you stop your wings from flapping wildly in victory?" he asked curiously.
"I'm not feeling very victorious." Gabriel shook his head, more suspicious than ever. His experience with the netherworld had never been so easy, and he was well-prepared for the expected trickery to appear at any moment. "You haven't named the soul you want."
"Didn't I?" the Devil drawled purposefully, stretching his long arms over the back of the booth seat as he swept the room with an all encompassing eye. "Well, that's rather forgetful of me, isn't it?"
"Lucifer...," Gabriel growled warningly.
&n
bsp; "Touchy, touchy, Gabe. You really need to lighten up before you give yourself an angelic ulcer," the Devil taunted.
"Who, Satan?" Gabriel barked, his wings flipping angrily underneath the expensive suit. "Who do you want?"
"Simple." Satan shrugged. "You already know him. And so do I."
"Then say his name and let this unholy business transaction be done!" Gabriel demanded imperiously.
"All right," the Devil said passively, his lips stretching widely and showing his sharpened incisors. "I want the soul of Aiden MacGregor,” he said, naming Matthew’s well respected colleague. The truth was that the man was so morally upstanding that the devil’s human mouth watered just thinking about him.
Chapter Fourteen
Satan watched in barely continued glee as the angel across the table absorbed the information. Surely an explosion of celestial proportions would be coming in just five….four…three…two….one….
One…
One….
One….
"Don't you have a snide comment to make, Angel?" Satan finally asked, unable to resist poking at the solemn-faced man who had not deigned to even blink in the last minute.
Merely raising one blonde eyebrow, the archangel shrugged as he said, evenly, "The One expected such a request from you, Samael. Your choice was on our pre-approved list of candidates and does not require any additional negotiation."
Narrowing his eyes as he felt his earlier superiority start to deflate, a feeling that he was less than thrilled to be experiencing, Satan growled, "What type of set up are you arranging? You promised me a soul. If the Big Bag of Air up in the sky is going to place some sort of force field around MacGregor, then….."
"You were promised a chance to take any soul that would willingly follow you," Gabriel retorted, shaking his head as he watched small puffs of smoke start to spurt from Satan's ears. "You are welcome to give it your best shot. Again."
"Now, there's the pot shot I was looking for," Satan grunted, throwing an arm across the bench seat as he eyed his former colleague.
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