by Mandy Lee
Opening her eyes, Katia turned her head toward him. “You can say that again. Honestly, I don’t know how to feel. Everything is upside down and backwards. Someone I thought I could trust has been hiding important things from me. You kidnap me but end up not being what I expected. I spend my whole life trying to be normal and fit in and find out I’m some mythical apocalypse ignition switch. It’s a lot to take in.”
“Can I just say that you’re handling all of this amazingly well? Most people would be curled up in a corner at this point.”
“Thanks.” Looking down, Katia noticed his chest. Her wide eyes flew back up to meet Luc’s. “What’s that?”
Realizing he’d forgotten to put his shirt back on in the aftermath of Katia’s entrance from her shower, Luc mentally cursed himself. He had avoided telling her anything about himself so far and that little devil on his shoulder was telling him to keep lying. At that thought, his sigil throbbed in pain. Enough, he thought. She would eventually find out who he was. Better she find out from him than from someone else. At least this way he could nip his infatuation in the bud before it got any stronger. Katia would want nothing to do with him once she knew. Full disclosure, he’d just have to do it fast — like ripping off a bandage.
“It’s called a sigil. All angels are marked with one when we’re created. It’s a symbol of our connection to Heofon.”
Frowning, Katia leaned toward him to get a closer look. “But why is it black? It looks like its bleeding into your body.”
Sighing, Luc nodded. “That started bit-by-bit after I fell.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied softly.
“Don’t be. It’s my fault. I did it to myself,” Luc said bitterly.
“What do you mean?” Katia frowned in confusion.
“You don’t know who I really am, the things I’ve done, or the pain I’ve caused. I’m not a good man, Katia.”
Looking up at him, Katia raised an eyebrow in question. “So, who are you?”
“Do you really want to know?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“I am Lucifer, Katia. I started a rebellion and got my friends to back me. We fought against other angels, we broke and killed our brothers and sisters. In the end we were all punished by being banned from our home and bound to serve Satan. It was my fault. My stupid pride caused them all to lose their home, their wings, and their light.” Looking her in the eye, Luc continued unabated, “If that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve spent the last couple of millennia retrieving humans who have sold their souls to Satan and delivering them to him for torture. I’ve lied for him, I’ve hurt people for him, and I’ve stolen for him. That’s who I really am.”
The heated delivery of his admission had her sitting back and away from him. Her surprise at hearing him say he was, in fact, Lucifer, shocked Katia into silence. She must be going crazy if the idea of sitting in a hotel room with Lucifer wasn’t making her run for the nearest exit. But, for some reason, she was having trouble reconciling everything he’d just told her with the man she’d come to know over the past two days. It was clear he had done horrible things, but the very disgust he’d exhibited with himself in his delivery of his speech said more to her about his character than the deeds themselves. He was wracked with remorse, guilt, and a sense of worthlessness. A truly evil person would feel nothing. Since realizing she hadn't made a deal with the Devil, Luc had been nothing but kind to her, going out of his way to help her at great personal risk. No truly evil man would do that. He was more than his past actions, she just hoped that she could help him see it. Maybe while he was helping her, she could help rescue him, even just a little…from himself.
Katia reached out hesitantly, drawn by some unseen force, and placed the tips of her fingers over his heart. Tilting her head to the side as she examined the markings, she began to lightly trace the outline of the sigil and then, one-by-one, the tracks leading away from it. Luc held himself very still. As her finger traced each line a warm electrified current seemed to flow through her into him. Slowly, Katia raised her eyes to meet his. Her hand stilled, but remained resting against his Sigil.
“You’re more than that.” Katia said softly.
“I want to be,” Luc replied in a desperate whisper. Their eyes remained locked as though they were under some kind of spell. It was as though an invisible band was tightening, drawing them together, they leaned slowly into one another. As they drew closer, Katia’s eyes flicked down to his lips and back up again. She could feel Luc’s heart beating as though it were about to jump out of his chest. Hers matched his beat for beat. The shrill ring of Luc’s phone had them jerking away from each other like startled rabbits. The spell was broken.
Shaking his head, Luc got up to answer his phone. Katia slid under the blankets and turned to face the opposite wall. Listening to Luc’s one-sided conversation, Katia closed her eyes. Her heart was still pounding. Maybe if she lay here and pretended to sleep it would actually happen. A while later Katia heard the television and the overhead light click off. The bed dipped with Luc’s weight as he got in. Knowing the room was now dark, Katia opened her eyes and stared into the blackness. Eventually she heard Luc’s breathing deepen and even out as he dropped into sleep. A short time later her eyes slid closed as sleep claimed her too.
Chapter Sixteen
One of the First Hierarchy of Angels, Lucifer Morningstar was created as a symbol of all that was good, and pure and perfect. The night sky was deep, pure navy blue with millions of stars glittering like the finest diamonds as Lucifer Morningstar, Son of the Dawn, made his way through the shinning marble hallway toward the throne room. His snow white robe floated around him as he strode purposefully through Heofon. The Sigil of the Morningstar shone on his chest as though it had been cast from solid gold.
For the first time since his creation, Lucifer was entering Heofon for a reason other than to receive praise. His wings flicked out in annoyance. In the name of free will and self-determination, he and six others had rebelled and had planned a revolution. As many as two hundred other angels had listened to their rallying cries, joining the cause which evolved into all-out war.
As he reached the enormous gilded doors to the inner chamber they swung open. Lucifer entered as he had many times before, taking in the wispy white clouds that hovered near the domed ceiling, the silky golden materials adorning the walls, and the pure white marble. At the center of the dome was an opening that allowed the light of the stars to shine in and bounce off the gleaming floor. A golden throne sat empty on a dais in the centre of the chamber. Metatron, the most senior and respected angel stood to the side of the throne, a pained expression on his face. Before Lucifer had time to react, two of the angelic guard grabbed him by the arms, dragging him to the centre of the room and forcing him to his knees. Stepping forward, Metatron removed a rolled parchment from the belt of his robe. Unrolling it slowly, never removing his eyes from Lucifer he began to read: “Upon this day Lucifer Morningstar is to be stripped of his position. He will be cast out to serve the dark as punishment for his transgressions. Such is the ruling of the council of Heofon.”
In shock, Lucifer looked up at Metatron, shaking his head. “Can I not be forgiven? Can I not be given a second chance?”
Sighing, Metatron approached Lucifer and reached out to cup his cheek. “That is just the problem Lucifer, you think only of yourself. I am truly sorry, but this is a final judgement and it will be carried out.”
Motioning to the angelic guard, Metatron stepped away, allowing the guards to do their work. The flowing white robes were torn off Lucifer's body, leaving him naked and shivering on his knees. Coldness, something he had never felt, washed over him. The robes vanished in a flash of white light as they flowed down and met the marble floor. Like all warrior angels, Lucifer had the symbol of Heofon emblazoned on his inner wrist. He could touch the mark and summon his weapon from the ether to dispatch enemies of Heofon. The guards forced his arm out and turned his hand palm up. Metatron stepped fo
rward and produced a small vial of clear liquid that twinkled in the light — angel tears — the one substance that would strip him of his power. Upending the bottle over the Lucifer’s outstretched wrist, Metatron poured out several drops. As the liquid hit his skin, it began to burn, steam rising, Lucifer screamed in pain, trying to jerk his arm free of the guards' grip.
“I am so sorry,” Metatron said again, the anguished expression on his face more pronounced than before.
As the pain grew more severe the Lucifer slumped into the hold of his captors. He had never felt pain before. He had been injured, but his robes had protected him from all pain. He had healed almost instantly and had given this kind of agony very little thought. Tears were streaming down his face as he looked up beseechingly at Metatron. Unable to hold his gaze, Metatron turned away, giving the final order to the guards.
“Clip his wings.” Metatron's voice was devoid of emotion.
Leaving Lucifer dazed with pain, lying on the cold marble floor, the guards separated, each taking one of his wings in hand. Unable to move from the burning pain radiating up his arm, Lucifer lay still and silent as his wings were spread wide. The coldness of the marble was a welcome feeling as sweat broke out on his forehead and chest. Looking up through the curtain of his hair he saw the whip of fire as it materialized in Metatron’s hand. One tear fell from Metatron’s eye and tracked down his cheek as he raised his arm and cracked the whip. It whistled through the air leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, hopelessness taking over as he felt the bite of the whip ripping through muscle and sinew. The scream that tore through him came straight from his soul. Metatron raised his arm and brought the whip down once more, separating the second wing from Lucifer’s body. Perfect white feathers shot with gold fluttered to the ground, landing softly in the pool of blood forming from the slices on his shoulder blades. Blood ran like a river down his back and sides. His beautiful wings lay useless on the ground on either side of him. Breathing shallowly, he slid a shaky hand across the floor, reaching out to stroke the soft feathers of his ruined wings. Hard, wracking sobs rose from him as his vision began to wink in and out from the pain.
Suddenly, he felt arms encircling him, lifting him off the hard marble floor. He felt himself being carried, but was unsure of how long or how far until he felt the cold breeze of the night air against his torn and battered skin. Squinting through the pain, Lucifer saw only the blackness of the sky, the stars obscured by clouds. With no warning he was released by his captors, the wind slicing his skin as he went into a free fall. The black skies were suddenly filled with the sounds of thunder. Lightning shot down all around him as he plummeted to the earth. Each flash lighting up the velvety black sky, making it seem like time was standing still. As he fell, all he could hear was the wind whipping by, and his own voice in his head telling him he had gotten what he deserved.
As he fell closer and closer to the earth, the rain began, washing his body clean of the blood and gore that had stained him, the great divide between himself and Heofon becoming a yawning chasm that he would never again be able to bridge. The earth drew closer and closer, and Lucifer began to thrash and panic, attempting frantically to slow his fall and the inevitable impact. Screaming until his throat was raw, he squeezed his eyes shut as the ground rose up to meet him.
Jerking awake, the scream still upon his lips, Luc felt soft warm arms wrap around him. Breathing heavily, he looked around the dark room in confusion. Shaking, he reached out and felt the covers and mattress of the bed. The arms encircling him drew him in closer, a warm breath tickled his ear as he heard the shushing of a feminine voice trying to comfort him. Suddenly, it all came back to him – Satan’s request, finding Katia, deciding to save her, arriving at this crappy motel. Letting out a shaky breath, Luc brought his hands up to cover Katia’s which were locked around his chest from behind. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She let out a breathy chuckle full of tension. “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay? You were screaming. I didn’t know what to do.”
“It was a dream, a memory, actually. I haven’t had that one in centuries,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion.
Katia sighed, turned her head and kissed him softly on the cheek. Luc felt his heart crack wide open at the feel of her lips grazing his skin. Tears stung his eyes as he disengaged from Katia’s embrace and turned to face her. Here she was, taking him at face value for the man she saw, not judging him on the sins of his past. She had been through so much these past couple of days, yet she was more concerned with his welfare than her own. She was too good for him, he knew it to the depths of his soul, but he couldn’t help himself. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek gently, taking in the beauty of her face that was softly lit by moonlight streaming through a small break in the curtains. He leaned in toward her until they were mere inches apart. “I shouldn’t do this. I have no right, you’re so good and I’m…” he whispered to her, unable to finish his thought, not wanting to put it into words for fear she would turn away.
Katia’s eyes flicked up to meet Luc’s. Smiling softly, she responded, “You’re hurt and damaged and perfect all at once.” Reaching out, Katia slid her hand around the nape of his neck, drawing him nearer as she speared her fingers through his hair. Their breath mingled briefly as their lips drew closer. The kiss was soft and gentle, lasting only a moment. As they drew apart, Luc looked down into Katia’s amazing eyes. He could see the pulse in her neck jumping to the same beat as his heart. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and he was lost. Closing the distance again, Luc took her mouth in a blistering kiss. Their tongues twined and he heard a moan, not sure if it was his or hers. The low-level electric hum escalated with their passion, sliding back and forth between them as they kissed. He felt her fingernails rake gently up his scalp, setting off a series of decadent shivers that travelled down his body. Reaching out with his free hand, Luc pulled Katia’s upper body flush against his, her breasts pressed against his chest. One of her hands fisted in his hair as the other slid around his back, her nails digging in as she locked his body against hers. He swallowed her sigh as she pressed herself harder against him, desperate for closer contact. Nothing had ever felt this good, this right. He was as old as dirt and had never been so consumed by this fire. More. The voice whispered through his mind. So good. The voice whispered again. Yes. He thought. Yes, more. So, so good. Never want this to end. Pulling Katia tighter to him, he slid his hand up her ribcage and cupped her breast, squeezing gently. Her nipple pearled and she moaned. Breaking the kiss, she began nipping and licking her way along his jawline. More. The voice whispered more loudly this time. Realization suddenly dawned upon Luc, these weren’t his lust-filled thoughts; they were coming to him in Katia’s voice. Her thoughts being pushed directly into his mind. Luc pulled away from her slightly in shock. He’d lost the ability to communicate psychically when he fell. Moaning at the loss of contact, Katia looked up at Luc in confusion. His breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Her gorgeous mismatched eyes were being eaten up by a glowing red that seemed to be bleeding outward from her pupils.
“Why did you stop?” she asked.
“Your eyes…I…what have I done?” He replied in a tortured voice. He grabbed her hands that had begun sliding sensually up his chest. The delicate blue veins visible under skin were running black. Following his gaze, Katia looked down at her hands and arms, letting out a cry of shock.
“Wh…what’s happening to me?” She looked up at him in desperation.
Releasing her and shoving her back from him, Luc jumped from the bed and backed into the far wall. The farther he got from her the more the red glow faded from her eyes. Luc felt his heart plummet to his feet. It was him; he was doing this to her. He was infecting her with evil.
After all this time, he’d finally found a woman that cared for him despite who he was and he couldn’t be with her without damaging her. He’d never sought a relatio
nship, thought he didn’t want the softness of love — thought he didn’t need it. He’d spent centuries growing the wall of ice and darkness around his soul and this woman had cracked it wide open in the space of two days. It was so close and felt so perfect, but yet he was going to be denied. He felt like crying. He felt like screaming.
“Your Sigil — it’s lighter.” Katia said, pointing to his chest with a shaking hand. The oily darkness in her veins also visibly lighter since his hasty retreat from the bed.
Looking down at his chest, Luc realized that she was right. More of the blackness radiating from his heart had been replaced with gold. “I..can’t…we can’t do that again,” he said, choking on the words.
“Why not? I’m fine now,” Katia replied, holding out her arms to show him they’d returned to their normal state.
Shaking his head vehemently, Luc replied, “The evil, the darkness…your eyes...I can’t do that to you; I lo….I care about you too much. I won’t let it happen.”
“I…okay,” Katia replied, sadness lacing her voice. Slowly, she turned away from him to face the other side of the room. Sliding down into the mattress and drawing the bed sheets up around herself, she lay in silence.
Moving over to the ugly chair, Luc plopped down and scrubbed his hands over his face. He mentally slapped himself for almost making a declaration of love. He’d only known her for two days, how could that even be possible? Sliding his eyes over to where she lay on the bed, he felt his heart constrict painfully. He let out a shaky breath. It was definitely possible with this woman. He was falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do about it. He would do the only honorable thing he could — he would help her get out of this situation with Satan and then disappear from her life. Sergei clearly wanted her, they were friends and got along well. She would be better off with him. That thought made Luc want to smash every piece of furniture in the room to woodchips. He had never been the jealous type, but there was a first time for everything. Balling his hands into fists at his side, he strengthened his resolve. He’d never thought it was possible, but it seemed as though he was entering a new kind of hell.