“Lucifer is more powerful than you give him credit for.”
“I make him nervous, don’t I?” Noah asks.
My vision blurs and not from tears this time. He needs to stop before he does end up dead—or worse. I want to kick him under the sheets, but instead I press closer, gripping his back like I can will him to stop.
But he’s not looking at me anymore—he’s peering just over my shoulder and has that cold, calculated gleam in his eyes that injects an extra dose of fear into me. Is he really considering taking on Lucifer?
I remember what he said before—that he can feel when Lucifer’s around. Does he know? If so, then he’s completely insane, taunting Lucifer like that. You idiot! You must have a death wish.
But he doesn’t really understand. He hasn’t been through what I’ve been through. He may be the one Lucifer’s been waiting for, but there’s a limit to what Lucifer will put up with, and he’s dangerously close. I can feel it.
I have to make it stop, so I pull his mouth down to mine and part his lips with my own. “Make love to me,” I coo as I pull away.
He rolls over on top of me and shakes his head. “You know I want to, but I don’t think that’s such a great idea right now.”
“Excuse me?” My eyes burn red. Did he really just reject me?
He laughs and kisses me while I lay there, confused. Maybe he really is going insane. “I have some work to do,” he says, and gets out of bed.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
Noah pauses, tugging on his jeans. “Best time to get some dirt on a senator, don’t you think?”
I blink. Senator? Who’s talking about a senator?
Noah laughs and pulls on a shirt. “I’m close to becoming governor. But that’s just the first step. Lucifer’s plan has me there for a full year before we displace his people. But those are his people. I need my own people, and I need it to happen faster than that. I want to get to the whole rule-the-world part a lot faster. So I talked to some of my old contacts—the guys who’ve been freaking out since Hale went missing. They think the senator’s goons made Hale disappear, because the senator used to be a customer.”
“But it was you,” I say.
“Yeah.” Noah flexes his fingers. “But the important information here is that the senator has some secrets he doesn’t want out. I’m going to get evidence to hold onto until the right moment.” He winks.
“I… I think you should stick to Lucifer’s plan,” I say, pulling the sheets up to my neck.
“Good to know.” Noah pats my leg like I’m some dumb dog or something. I feel my eyes burn again. It’s time I exert some of my own will in this conversation.
“I’m going with you.” I throw the covers off and tug on my dress.
“The Hell you are.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Technically, I believe I am.”
My mouth hangs open like an idiot. It’s like he just slapped me across the face. This is exactly what I worried would happen and that he assured me wouldn’t. He’s turning into Lucifer. He thinks he owns me.
“Keira?” He waves a hand in front of my face.
I grab his wrist and twist it so that he’s completely unbalanced, teetering on his toes. “I’m going to go. I’m going to protect you, and you are going to graciously accept it.”
He stares back, dumbfounded for a moment, then whispers, “I love it when you get your Demon on.”
I release his wrist and begrudgingly let him pull me in close.
“I want to go alone because I need to prove that I can handle myself without magical intervention. Besides, I have powers of my own I can use if it comes to that.”
“You have nothing to prove.”
“Yeah, I do. To myself and to Lucifer. And maybe to you, too. I can tell you’re still worried about me, Keira. You have nothing to worry about, and you can’t stop me from doing this.”
He’s right. I can’t. He’s in charge.
“But I hope you won’t try, because this is something I need.”
I heave a sigh and tap my fingers on my leg. At least he cares what I think, even if he’s too stubborn to listen. “Fine. I’ll respect that. But text if you need me, and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”
“You got it.” He salutes and heads for the door.
The moment he’s out of sight, Lucifer appears in front of me. I expected this.
“I assume you heard?” I say. “He’s plotting his own government takedown.”
“Indeed. But you’ve disappointed me, Keira.”
My pulse races. “What? How?”
“You failed. If he were in love with you, he’d have stayed in the bed.”
My temper flares, but I catch myself before I can say, Like you know anything about love. The thing is, I’m scared he might be right. Noah’s like a firework—impossible to hold onto and always changing. What if he doesn’t really love me? What if he’s using me? Or even worse: what if he thinks he loves me but doesn’t?
Instead, I say, “I can do better.”
“Oh, I know. And you will. But you’ll spend the next few hours in the Pit while he runs his silly little errand, just to be sure you have the proper motivation.”
Chapter 12
Josh
This is an idiotic and dangerous plan. In other words, it’s like most of my plans. What’s afterlife without a few risks, right?
I knock on Mr. Griffith’s door, and it opens almost immediately, admitting me to the usual pool hall where we used to meet. It hasn’t been more than a month, but it feels like forever ago. The memories hit me with a pang I’m not expecting. I miss Grace so much that I didn’t notice how much I’ve missed hanging out with Mr. Griffith. The Mr. Griffith I knew before he became all fatalistic and sent Grace to Hell, that is.
He’s seated on the edge of a pool table, papers spread out before him and what looks like a giant feather in his left hand. He glances up, surprised, whether by my presence or that he’s now in a pool hall, I have no idea.
My hands automatically seek out my jean pockets. “Hi. Sorry to bother you. I know our appointment isn’t for another hour.”
“Josh? Of course you aren’t bothering me. Come in.” The feather, which I realize is really a pen, disappears along with all the papers, and he turns to me with his usual undivided attention.
“Listen, Mr. Griffith, I’ve been thinking, and I have some questions that I was afraid to ask…before. But they’re important.” Great job so far, Josh. I shake my head, trying to formulate my words.
“Shoot.”
“The rules. You know, the ones you always go on about? The ones that got Grace thrown from Heaven? Where do they come from?”
Mr. Griffith’s eyebrows rise so high on his head, I wonder if they’ll float right off. I guess he wasn’t expecting that question.
“Well, most of them come from The Man Upstairs. Some things are up to me. But the big ones—things like whether humans should be free to go back and forth to Earth after death—well, those came directly from Him.”
I shift my weight and pull up a stool of my own. I was afraid he’d say that. “And there’s really nothing you can do about it?”
His expression turns pained, and he reaches out to place a hand on my shoulder. “I know you miss Grace. I do, too. It hurt to send her down there. But I tried to warn her, Josh, you know that. In answer to your question, can I disobey? No. I’ve seen what happens to Archangels when they disobey. I cannot risk it.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. “What happens?” I press. He didn’t say he couldn’t do it, just that he wasn’t willing to risk it. Those are two very different things.
“They are thrown from Heaven. I can’t imagine a worse fate for an Archangel. That’s what happened to Lucifer, you know. Now look at him.”
Anger swells inside of me, and I can’t hold it back. Screw it. I jump up from the chair. “So you’re saying that Grace being thrown from Heaven is okay because you’re still
here?” Grace is a better Angel than he ever was.
“No! Josh, that’s not what I meant. I’m so sorry. Please, calm down. If it were a choice between saving Grace from circumstances beyond her control… But she chose her lot. That’s what free will is. That’s the gift The Man Upstairs bestowed upon humankind.”
I’m speechless. I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open. Does he think she made some clear-cut, easy choice for selfish reasons? “She did it to save someone she loves. She sacrificed herself for him, like I did for her—only in my case it earned me wings, not a sentence in Hell.”
Mr. Griffith looks away, back rigid, as he considers what to say.
“Josh, I’m not going to argue about Grace. Are you going to help me in Heaven or not? I’m a very busy being.”
“Busy giving up.” I can’t hold back. Not anymore. The time for tact is over.
Mr. Griffith rises to meet me. He’s taller, and there’s something very intimidating in the way he stands so regally and almost unnaturally before me. “I am not giving up, Joshua. I am looking to the future, to the next wave of time. I tried my best to prevent it, but it happened, just as foretold; true—just as the word of The Man Upstairs always is. And now it’s time to move on. I understand that might be difficult for you, and I want you to know I’m not hurt by your words. I understand you are lashing out because you’re in pain.”
Well, that’s great news.
I suck in a breath and do my best to control my temper. At least he hasn’t explicitly forbidden me from doing anything; he just said he’s not going to help. At least, that’s what I choose to hear.
“One more question, Mr. Griffith.”
He crosses his hands in his lap and waits.
“How do I talk to The Man Upstairs?”
To his credit, he doesn’t overreact to this request. He just chuckles. “You can talk to Him at any time. Just pray.”
“And He’ll answer?” I ask, glancing skyward despite being in Heaven already.
“Rarely.”
I nod, defeated. “I see. I should let you get back to…whatever it is you’re doing.”
I glance back on my way out to find Mr. Griffith with quill in hand, papers back on the table. “Just so long as you don’t let your feelings get in the way of learning your job as a greeter,” he mutters.
But if you ask me, my real job is to stop Armageddon before it starts.
Chapter 13
Noah
The senator is an idiot. If I were a public official—when I’m a public official—and I had an affair, I’d never make out in front of an open window. Not that I would have an affair. There isn’t a woman on Earth who can hold a candle to Keira.
I snap a few more pics with my phone as he gets hot and heavy with some lady in a black lace bra. She’s probably his secretary or something else equally cliché. I shift my weight in the bushes where I’m hidden, though I could easily glamour the guards if I needed to. I need to ask Lucifer if there are any other nifty powers he hasn’t told me about.
Inside, the senator lowers the lights, but he isn’t smart enough to put them out completely. Then he messes with something below my sight line while the girl waits, biting her lip.
Closer. I have to get closer. So I creep out of my hiding spot, crouched low, and pull myself up to peer over the windowsill. Bingo. The senator and his mistress are about to do lines. He’s got it all set up on the coffee table, right on the glass top, razor blade out, arranging the cocaine just so.
I keep taking photos and then duck below their sight line when the woman turns toward the window. Above me I hear the click as it’s shut tight and the whoosh as the blinds are drawn. Too late for them, though. I have more than enough evidence to get him kicked out of office. I laugh to myself, wondering if there’s anyone left in the world who’s actually a good person like Grace was. Maybe she was the last of an endangered species. Now look at her.
At the thought, I suddenly don’t feel like laughing anymore.
She doesn’t belong with Lucifer. The idea is still unsettling to me. I want her to go back to Heaven and be out of my life.
I’m walking away, down the sidewalk, when the senator’s mansion springs to life behind me. Lights flood the grounds, dogs bark, and I can hear shouts in the distance. But they won’t find me. I’m already halfway down the block and cutting through someone’s backyard. I know how to get away quickly. That’s something I learned before I ever met Lucifer. It was important when I decided to start dealing. The key is to act like you’re not doing anything wrong. Walk slowly and deliberately, with confidence. Besides, if they find me now all I have to do is glamour them. But I don’t want to rely on magic.
Now I have more confidence than I ever did before. Poor Keira could use some. She’s been beaten down by Lucifer over the years. She acts like an abused animal whenever she’s in his presence. I hate seeing her that way. It makes me hate him all the more. I have to teach her that there’s nothing to fear now. That’s why I told her my plan when I knew Lucifer was listening. I felt him. It’s time to let him know I’m not just his pawn. Keeping him off balance means keeping my control.
I drop my phone back into my pocket and jump the next fence.
There’s a pool in this yard. It’s lit from beneath, so it glows an eerie blue as I skirt around it toward the next street and a new direction. It looks so pristine; I bet the owners are just like our neighbors and never use it. If I had a pool, I’d use it, not just let it sit out there like some freaking birdbath. People get so obsessed with wealth that they forget what’s important. They need someone to smack them upside the head and remind them to appreciate what they have.
When I walk in my front door, I’m not expecting my parents to be up and waiting for me on the couch. I do a double take, not having seen them together in the house for at least a year. The last time I spoke to either of them was over a month ago, and I’m not sure “we’re out of Cheerios” counts as a conversation.
Mom tries to smile, but it’s so forced I’m afraid her face might crack. “Noah. Out with friends?”
I try not to laugh. Since when do you care? I almost say. “Yeah. Going to bed.” I turn toward the stairs.
“Want to watch some TV with us?” Dad’s voice nearly makes me trip.
Is he serious? “Uh, no. Thanks. I’m beat.”
“Well, get some sleep then,” he says.
Mom adds, “We have an appointment tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. So be up and dressed. I’ll make pancakes before we go.”
I turn slowly to see if maybe they’re possessed. But I know actual Demons, and I doubt even they would be this evil—trying to mess with my feelings after I’ve already given up on my parents. Pancakes were always my favorite. Mom hasn’t made them since… Well, since before Grace’s accident.
“What kind of appointment? I’m busy tomorrow.” I’m planning on having sex with my girlfriend.
The folks exchange a look that nearly sets me over the edge because I haven’t seen them in the same room, let alone acknowledging each other, in a very long time. My mom sets a calloused hand on my dad’s knee before she speaks. “We’re going to see someone who can help us all through this…time.”
Time? “You mean help you get past the death of the child you actually cared about?” It comes sliding out without forethought. I’m tired, and I really didn’t want to go there now. Or ever. I thought we had a mutual agreement of silence. I sigh and run a hand down my face. “Never mind. Just go. Have fun. But I’m over it.”
I start skipping steps to get away faster, but my dad’s voice catches me before I can make it out of earshot.
“You’re going, Noah. We all are. If I can take off of work for this, then you can take a morning off of school.”
I let out a laugh then bite down on my lip. I’d forgotten I even had school tomorrow. “You can’t force me.”
“Yes. We can. We’re still your parents, and you’re still underage.”
I’m the fucking
Antichrist and my parents are forcing me to go to therapy? This is NOT happening. I could go right back down there and use glamour to make them leave me alone. It would serve them right. But for some reason the thought of doing that makes me feel ill. This whole conversation needs to be over.
“Whatever.”
I finish my ascent to the sound of whispers, which prickle the hairs on the back of my neck. I need to talk to Keira. She’ll fix things and make me feel better. She’s always there for me.
Except when I burst inside my room, she isn’t there.
Lucifer is.
“I’m tired.” I sink down in the sofa nearest the throne because, surprise, surprise, he’s already in it.
“I can imagine.”
“Where’s Keira?”
“She wasn’t busy when I checked in, so I borrowed her.”
Something in his voice makes me sit up and pay attention. I examine his face and decide it’s humor I see behind his dark eyes. I don’t like it. And all the anger and resentment and whatever else I feel toward my parents focuses on him.
Take it easy, Noah, I tell myself. Don’t lose control. You have control. But my hand tightens into a fist against my jeans, and I can’t stop it from shaking with the urge to strike.
“Where is she?” I ask, my voice a little too pleasant, a little too easygoing.
His eyes flash with blue electricity. A warning. “Not your concern.”
I stand and take a step toward him, smiling. “Of course it is. I thought I was pretty clear about wanting Keira here. I’d like to know what you have her doing.”
We stare into each other’s masks for a long time, neither one of us willing to concede. “You don’t trust me,” Lucifer says. There is no inflection in the words, but the statement somehow carries a great threat behind it.
“You’re the Devil. I’d be an idiot to trust you.”
Lucifer stares at me blankly for a moment. Then he laughs. He spins in place and laughs like the freaking Joker. Psycho. But if I had to guess, I’d say he liked that response.
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