by TW Knight
"Not technology as you would recognize it. They seemed to instinctively be able to harness the energies we were teaching them to use. This gave them an advantage over other civilizations and they advanced at a greater rate," Hogart explained. "When the order came down, I thought that perhaps it was feared they were developing a weapon of great power, but that wasn't the case."
"The prophecy," Bree spat.
"Yes. Although now that my mind is clearer, I think it had more to do with their connection to the lesser beings of this world."
"Lesser beings?" That perked Bree's attention. "What kind of beings are we talking about? Did they talk to animals or something? Oh, were there really magical creatures like dragons and unicorns back then?"
Hogart laughed so hard, his eyes teared and he gasped. Sam didn't fare much better. When both stopped, Bree punched her brother in the arm.
"No, little sister." Hogart sputtered after another burst of laughter. "The beings I refer to, you would call elementals. They were here when the world formed, a part of nature itself, and were changed by the energy infused into this world by the One. It made them self-aware, more connected to the world. To us, they were pests, nothing to concern ourselves with. But now I see the Hierarchy took notice of their evolution as well and did not like that your people had a relationship with them."
"Our people," Sam said softly, longing in his voice.
"When you say elementals, you're talking about living, breathing dryads, sylphs, undines, salamanders—"
"Salamanders are slimy lizards, Bree," Sam interrupted. "Not some mystical creature."
"Not so," Bree crossed her arms over her chest. "They represent the lowest rank of fire elementals."
Sam rolled his eyes.
Hogart gave Sam a friendly shove with his foot. "Your sister is correct. And yes, all you listed and more. Although most no longer exist on this plane. Your pollution and technology have either chased them into other dimensions, poisoned them into extinction, or corrupted them into evil beings intent on destruction rather than rehabilitation. I think they have gotten tired of cleaning up after the humans."
The three sat quietly for a few moments before Sam spoke up. "I have a question. Why did the Hierarchy stop policing humanity? I mean, the wars, pollution, terrorism, cancer... They could have taken care of that, right?"
"Free will," Hogart answered somberly. "Except for cancer. No one would choose that."
Bree shook her head. "Haven't humans always had free will, even when the Hierarchy was delivering Heavenly justice? Nothing's changed except they they've stopped interfering on such a large scale. Why?"
"They destroyed civilizations in the name of protecting the rest of the developing world. They continued this practice for a great number of years after the demon war your Knights took part in. Maybe they've stopped because they no longer care if humanity destroys itself."
"Maybe they’re being sneakier about it. Look at all the natural disasters lately," Sam offered. "Any one of those could have been the Hierarchy."
"Possibly."
"I understand the reasoning behind destroying a civilization that the Hierarchy believed was dangerous. I don’t agree with it, but I understand. What I don’t get is why humans working with elementals was a problem." Bree picked at the bed sheet contemplating what they were told. "We know about them, even if most people now-a-days don't believe they're real. Shamans, priests, Wicca, and witches still invoke the elements and the creatures that rule over them for help. For the most part, elementals are peaceful unless provoked. They want to protect the world, not harm it. I would think it would be a good thing for them to be working with the early humans. What made those people so, I don't know, dangerous to the Hierarchy?"
Hogart shrugged.
"Who were they," Sam asked. "Are we like descendants of Atlantis?"
Bree smiled at her brother. Even if he really wasn't buying into the whole, "elemental creatures exist," thing, he showed enthusiasm in the history. "Yeah, Hogart. Fess up."
"Fine," the big warrior answered grudgingly, but with a smile in his words. "You are descendants of a race known as the Amadour."
"So, I'm-a-door-I-an?" Sam laughed until he fell off the bed with a loud, "Ooof," which made Bree laugh almost as hard.
"Smart-ass," Hogart grumbled, trying to hold in his laughter.
"I've never heard of Amadouria or any civilization close to the name," Bree finally said once she'd pulled Sam back onto the bed.
Hogart nodded and shifted back into the pillows. "I doubt you would have. They preceded the race that would become known as the Atlantians."
The three remained quiet, listening to the rain patter against the window.
"Let me get this straight. The Hierarchy destroyed the Amadourians because they learned to work with the elemental creatures," Sam started slowly. "And later, they destroyed the Atlantians for becoming too technologically powerful?"
"Actually, the Atlantians took care of destroying themselves, but they were, uh, nudged in that direction by heavenly advisors."
"If the Hierarchy destroyed these civilizations for getting too advanced, why didn't they bring the hammer down on us when we developed nukes?"
Bree snorted. "For that matter, why bother leaving the guys down here to fight the demons? Why not just let Lucifer's minions do the dirty work?"
"Too many questions, little sister." Hogart rubbed his eyes. "Honestly, I think they want you to destroy yourselves so that they can be above reproach, but they can't let Lucifer win."
"Makes sense to me," Sam offered.
"Really?" Bree pivoted to face him. "You can understand that kind of thinking?"
"Of course, it's the logic of a twelve year old boy. I don't want to play with that toy anymore, but no one else can have it, either."
"Oh." Having never been a twelve year old boy, she couldn't dispute his logic. Thinking back, she remembered seeing boys, and girls, break up forts and toys when they were done with them just so no one else could enjoy them. "There must be hundreds, if not thousands of descendants out there. Are you hunting them all?"
Hogart shifted. "I'm not sure how extensive the compulsion is. Was."
"What does being a descendant of the Amadour mean to us other than being on the Heavenly hit list?"
"Don't know," Hogart answered on a yawn. "If either of you showed signs of having elemental gifts, I would say that was it, but—" he shrugged, "—your guess is as good as mine."
"And your guess is?"
"That the Hierarchy wants you dead because none of you were supposed to have survived, and as descendants of that lost race, you hold within your blood the potential of becoming connected to the elemental creatures still in the world."
"Why would that matter," the twins asked in unison.
"I have no idea."
Bree rubbed her temples. "Something else is bothering me."
"What?"
"If Michael wants us dead, why did he send you back just in time to save Sam from going off the cliff?"
The room fell silent again.
Chapter Forty-One
Lucifer lay on his back panting. Each breath dragged in a familiar sulfur scent mixed with the metallic tang of old blood. Heat from his body soaked into the stones beneath him. His nerves buzzed. The call still rang in his bones. An Archangel summoned the fallen angel he'd possessed. Heavenly energy surged along the fading connection to the warrior. It was intoxicating.
To taste the grace of Heaven, if only through another, was like falling into the arms of a lost lover. It had been so long since he'd felt that warmth, the acceptance. The overwhelming sense of belonging. The power.
"Lucifer," a voice called from far off. "Lucifer. Damn it, answer me. Who attacked you?"
He laughed. His blood sang. "Idras?"
Something cool touched his lips and he opened his mouth. Warm, smooth liquid poured in, pleasantly burning his throat. He hummed with satisfaction. Blood wine was just what he needed to top off the buzz.
"Damn it, Lucifer. Answer me."
"No one attacked me, Idras."
"Seriously? The way you were moaning and groaning when I came in, I'd half expected an orgy to be going on. Disappointedly, I only found you writhing on the floor."
Ah, there was the biting little serpent he knew.
The goblet clinked on the floor next to him. Lucifer shifted to get his bearings. His head was pillowed on the Seer's lap. This level of care went beyond the tentative alliance they'd formed. "I was not attacked," he repeated, pulling himself into a seated position. "I was just surprised."
"By who? What?"
He waved her off. "Give me some more wine."
"I'm not your servant," she snapped, but placed the goblet in his outstretched hand.
He downed the wine without a breath and held the goblet out to her. "More."
She huffed and snatched the offending vessel from him. Lucifer kept his eyes closed, listening to her footsteps, the rattling bottles, the gurgle of wine she poured. His senses were on fire. He could hear demons fucking down the hall and others being tortured several levels beneath him. And the scents. If not for Idras' natural perfume of sweet apples and summer enveloping him, the stink of death and decay wafting up the tunnels would choke him.
The goblet returned to his hand and he downed its contents in a single swallow. When the last drop was gone, he tossed the goblet across the chamber and stood, stretching his back until the vertebra popped. "Better."
"Great. Now would you mind explaining what the fuck happened?"
Lucifer turned, staring at Idras as though seeing her for the first time. "I don't remember you cursing before," he said. "I like it."
"Oh, stop stalling. What the fuck happened?" She stood with hands on her hips, chest out, breasts straining against the wispy gown she wore. Her eyes flared as she defiantly stared.
For once, Lucifer didn't feel the urge to slap her. Gone was the pouting, flirty, sexy pin-up. This was the real Seer. Strong, feisty, and ready to kick him in the balls.
He liked it.
"Several days ago, I tapped into a fallen angel, one whose presence I've somehow missed all these ages. He broke free, but there was a lingering connection." He shrugged.
"And?" She arched her eyebrows and waved her hands, prompting him for more information.
"And he was summoned."
"Summoned," she asked with the curiosity of a child. Lucifer chuckled. "Summoned? Like" —she pointed skyward— "Summoned?"
"Yes. And thanks to the remaining connection between us, I got, well." He held up his hands, searching for the right words. "You might call it a contact high. It was overwhelming. Marvelous. Orgasmic." He laughed. "I need more wine. Where'd that goblet get off to?"
"You threw it across the room." Idras took a seat on the chaise she'd claimed as hers. "You felt him being summoned? You felt his connection to Heaven? I can't believe you got to touch that power again." With tears in her eyes, and childlike wonder softening her features, she asked, "What was it like?"
Chapter Forty-Two
Bass stood outside the doors, listening to the laughter. The twins were doing fine. Bree was doing fine.
Why was he standing there like an idiot?
Eventually the laughter changed to quite voices and a long silence, followed by Hogart's announcement that he needed to rest to finish healing. When the twins said their goodbyes, Bass slinked away to stand down the hall where he thought he wouldn't be seen. He thumped his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
"You okay?"
Bass jumped. Bree's caramel topaz eyes glittered with concern. How the hell did she sneak up on him?
"Fine."
"You sure?"
"Yes," he snapped.
"Fine. What are you doing lurking in the hall, then?"
"I'm not lurking," He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. "I came to check on Hogart and heard you guys talking. I didn't want to interrupt, so I was waiting." He glanced down the hall. "How is—"
Bree cut him off. "We need to talk."
Bass' heart fell into his stomach. Nothing good ever came from those four words.
"About what you said on the cliff—"
"Yeah, well, I had to distract Sam until I could figure out how to get you away from him."
Bree looked stricken. "So you didn't mean those things?"
"Of course not." What exactly had he said? "I couldn't let your brother kill himself, or you."
"And here I was beginning to think you felt—"
"I told you that I couldn't love you. Not the way you want." It all came back to him. He'd said he'd give up everything to save her brother, to save her, and she'd told him she loved him too, even though he'd never said the L-word. "I think—"
A sharp laugh burst from Bree as she stepped back. "No, you don't. At least not about anything other than yourself. You really are a selfish bastard. I actually thought—" She growled something under her breath. "What is your problem with me? I've been fine with how we are. I didn't ask for a commitment, the soul bond took care of that. I never asked for promises. But when you said those things. When you said—" Tears ran down her cheeks. "When you said you would find me again, I thought maybe you'd decided—"
"I didn't lie. Remember, I can't lie to you." Bass nearly choked on the words. "I try. But I can't. I would give you up, but not just for Sam. I think it would better for you. Right now you're okay with us being friends with benefits or fuck-buddies or whatever you want to call it, because this is so new and wild and intense. But sooner or later you will want more. You'll realize you deserve more. More than I can give you. Go to the island with Sam and Hogart. Keep them in line. I don't need—" pain shot through his chest and he ground his teeth— "I don't need you to be anything more than the keeper of my soul."
Bree stood in front of him for a moment, quietly staring, tears still damp on her face. "Liar. You do need me. You just don't want me." Swiping a hand across her eyes, she turned on her heel and stormed away.
Bass slowly sucked in a deep breath. She was wrong. He did want her.
But he needed her more.
"The girls are right."
Bass' head snapped up. He spun around. Sam leaned against the wall a few yards down the hall.
"You are an ass."
"Thank you." What else could he say? It was the truth.
"I should beat the shit out of you again for hurting Bree, but I'm on like four different kinds of meds right now so I'd probably miss the first punch and fall on my ass."
"I promise to stand still."
Sam threw his hands up. "See, there you go again."
"What?"
"You feel guilty, like that first day you let me beat you. Where's the guy who bragged about fucking more women than he could count? Huh? Where's the tough guy now?"
"What the fuck are you talking about? I wasn't bragging about anything, I was trying to make a point about understanding how messed up you are inside."
"I know." Sam smirked. "It may be the drugs talking, but I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you. You are as fucked up as I am. Right now you look like how I felt standing out on the edge of that cliff."
"Now who's being an ass?"
"Takes one to know one." Sam sobered. He pushed away from the wall. "Tell her how you feel."
"I just did." Bass turned away, but Sam grabbed his arm.
"Bree is a special kind of person. She's my opposite. My balance. I never really understood that before today. She tries to see the good in everyone, even knowing that monsters exist in the world. All I see are the monsters. But she doesn't give her heart away easily— we've lost too much to risk falling in love." He sighed. "If you push her away without explaining why you can't love her back, she'll never get over it. How could she, trapped here with no one else to heal her broken heart?"
Bass pulled free. "What kind of drugs did Zach give you? You're talking nonsense."
Sam laughed. "Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good and m
aybe that's why I'm talking to you rather than beating your head into the floor again. But that doesn't mean I won't try once I my brain evens out."
"Sam, let it go. Take Bree and go to Rail's island with Hogart. The three of you need time to heal."
"Bree's not coming with us. She said she was staying here." With a punch to Bass' arm, Sam walked off.
Bass watched the boy retreat down the hall and shook his head. Note to self, ask Zach what he put the kid on and tell him to cut back the dosage.
***
Bree ran until her legs gave out. Blinded with tears, she stumbled onto the beach. Waves stirred up by the storm still crashed ashore, punctuating her tumultuous emotions. How could she have been so stupid? Bass told her he couldn't give her what she wanted. He hadn't lied, she just didn't believe him. Didn't want to believe him.
Days ago, Bass admitted he believed they shared a connection spanning centuries. It was obvious to her the universe wanted them together. So why couldn't they move to the next level?
She'd told him she'd loved him, but never once had he said the words to her.
He loved the way she smelled, and felt, and the funny little noise he said she made when made love.
No. They hadn't made love. They had sex. That was it.
God, she was so messed up.
Maybe she was more like her brother than she wanted to admit. Right now she wanted to kill something, or someone.
Chapter Forty-Three
Bass didn't have a destination, he just kept moving. If he could get off the island by himself, he'd run laps around Canada or Africa, or maybe Russia— anything to not think.
He'd almost lost Bree.