by G. P. Ching
“Hello, Abigail,” Cord yelled to the opposite corner of the room.
Asshole. She raised her middle finger toward the back of his head. If Lucifer saw her crude gesture, he didn’t respond. He approached the wall of windows, clasping his hands behind his back. The city, shrouded in night, provided a spectacle of shimmering lights but somehow seemed dwarfed by the devil’s silhouette.
“I’ve brought you both here tonight because I am prepared to release the first temptation.” Lucifer’s voice took on the rasp and crackle inherent beneath his illusion. The sound made Abigail’s scalp prickle.
Auriel clapped her hands and skipped to his side, smoothing her sweater and short skirt. “Brilliant, My Lord. The world will be yours when you say the word. What will you tempt the humans with? Wealth? Power?”
“The obvious choices, but too direct.”
“Lust, My Lord,” Cord offered. “An illusion to entice even the most prudent soul.”
“Another excellent suggestion but difficult to deliver discreetly. It is to our advantage to remain insidious. The Great Oppressive Deity will expect us to be careless and out ourselves to the humans and the Soulkeepers.”
“How will you win them to you then?” Auriel asked.
“Wealth, power, and lust only appeal to those with dark hearts. What we need is a temptation that wins the hearts of the good. Nothing breeds darkness like snuffing out the light.”
Cord straightened his tie. “Tempt the good?”
“By pretending to be the thing we are not. Harrington Enterprises must become a blessing to the cursed.” Lucifer turned on his heel and crossed the sprawling living area to the kitchen island where he shuffled through a wine rack and selected a bottle. Three champagne flutes appeared on the counter, and he filled them halfway with thick red liquid. Abigail could smell the dank copper stench from across the room. Blood—fresh and raw—with a slight bubble she assumed Lucifer added for affect.
“Join me in a drink, and I’ll explain.” He handed a glass to Cord and another to Auriel, taking up the third himself. “The first temptation will be pestilence, a virus as crippling as the Black Death.”
“Pestilence, My Lord? To win human hearts?”
Lucifer grinned. “It won’t be the disease that wins their hearts, Auriel. It will be the cure.”
“A cure for the pestilence we’ve created?” Cord looked confused.
“Auriel, you will go to Harrington’s pharmaceutical division and give them a direct order from their new CEO, Mr. Milton Blake.” He placed an open hand on his chest. “All manufacturing facilities are to produce nothing but the cure for a new and dangerous virus.” With a wave of his hand, a medication bottle filled with glowing blue pills appeared on the countertop.
Auriel palmed the bottle and gave a slight curtsy. “Will the humans know how to replicate this?”
“Good point, Auriel. Their idiocy is infallible. Best use sorcery to teach them the recipe.”
She grinned.
“And now for the disease,” Lucifer said. Shaking his right hand, the illusion of humanity fell away, exposing black skin and long, sharp talons. He dug into his own chest, the flesh and bone parting to expose the blackness where his heart should have been. A pinch and tug and a piece of that blackness worked between his talons like rancid bubblegum, pulling and stretching. The opening in his chest stitched closed while the blackness in his hand expanded. When Lucifer’s molding was complete, a great winged beast perched on his outstretched arm. Mangy black feathers, a sharp hooked beak, and eyes as red as the blood in the champagne flutes marked the bird’s appearance. The animal glared at Abigail and rolled its black tongue.
Lucifer motioned to Cord. “Meet my new pet, Affliction. This bird will fly fast and far. Ensure he is released in a populated area. Anyone who looks upon him will be afflicted with my pestilence.”
Cord extended his arm, and the bird hopped to his new perch.
“Genius. The bird doles out the disease. Only Harrington will have the cure and with it the loyalty of the cured.” Auriel laughed and raised her glass.
“Exactly.” Lucifer followed her lead. “A toast to a new age. Soon the world will be ours and everyone in it our plaything.”
Cord lifted his blood cocktail and joined in clinking glasses. The three drained the red liquid in a few gulps. With a loud smack of his lips, Cord moved for the door, making kissing noises toward Affliction. “Come, sweet bird. Let me introduce you to the city.”
Auriel opened the door for him and then followed Cord out of it.
Abigail desperately wanted to warn the Soulkeepers, but her desire was useless. Every attempt at communication had failed; her hand slipped right through the phone. As hopeless as she was helpless, she paced in front of the windows.
Lucifer watched her, elbows resting on the kitchen counter. The pads of his fingers tapped together under his chin. “Do you miss it, Abigail, being part of a team? You could have been where Auriel is today.”
She stopped and turned to face him, anger warming her ghostly body. What did she have to lose? “I do miss being part of a team, but not yours, Lucifer. I miss being a Soulkeeper. And as for taking Auriel’s place, no one deserves what you have to give more than she does.”
His face reddened, and his grin morphed into a scowl. Stomping toward the exit, he didn’t bother to look in her direction as he crossed the threshold. “No meal tonight,” he said, slamming the door behind him.
Utterly and truly alone, Abigail watched Cord and Auriel emerge from the building, two tiny dots on the street below. Cord raised his arm, and Affliction took flight.
Chapter 7
Sick and Tired
Two weeks later …
Within the circle of Jacob’s arms, Malini swayed to the ballad the DJ played from the corner of the gym. At times like this, with her head rested on his chest, it was easy to forget their house of cards could tumble at any moment. She expected Lucifer’s first temptation to come sooner rather than later. All of the Soulkeepers practiced daily, ready to defend against an onslaught. This waiting promised a more sinister enemy, silent, invisible, deadly. Perhaps already among them. She pressed her eyes closed. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t ruin homecoming worrying about the inevitable.
“What’s wrong?” Jacob asked. He kissed the top of her head. How did he know?
“Thinking about what I promised I wouldn’t think about.”
“Well, don’t think about it.”
“I’m trying but now you are talking about it, thereby making me think about it even more.”
Jacob pushed her to arms length and met her eyes. “Okay. Let’s talk about something else. How do you like the homecoming decorations?”
Malini raised her chin to take in the gossamer curtains, the flat wooden cutout of a horse-drawn carriage, and the stage-set balcony reused from the schools earlier production of Romeo and Juliet. The theme was Wishes Do Come True, complete with a shooting star that sparkled from the ceiling. “I love them. Dane did an incredible job, as always. It’s too bad so many people missed it because of the bird flu.”
“Yeah, Katrina has it too. The symptoms are so bad she came home from college. I guess the entire student health service is overrun. She’s spent the week tossing her cookies, and I mean that figuratively because she can’t eat anything.”
Malini stopped dancing and looked Jacob in the eye. “Is she going to be all right?”
“I think so. Dr. Howard has some new drug to treat it, Elysium. Said she should be fine in a couple days.”
“Hey, I thought we weren’t going to talk about anything serious,” Malini teased.
“You brought it up.” Jacob pulled her back into his chest and started to sway. “So, the decorations. Technically, Samantha came up with the idea while she was acting as Dane, but Dane did most of the work. I wish he could enjoy it a bit more.”
“Maybe I should ask him to dance.” Malini glanced over at the round table where they’d had dinner. Dane, da
teless again, was folding origami cranes out of a stack of cocktail napkins.
“Yeah. I need a break anyway.” Jacob threaded his fingers into hers and led her to the table. “Hey, Dane, uh, I’m beat. Do you want to take over for a while?” Jacob pointed a finger at Malini.
“Do you want to dance, Dane?” Malini asked.
Dane scowled. “You guys are sweet but unconvincing. I think I’ll pass on the pity dance, thank you.”
“Dane—”
“It’s cool, Mal. I’m fine right where I am.”
She sat down on the chair next to him, facing the dance floor. The music picked up, and the other attendees swarmed the floor, gyrating to the rhythm.
“I’m going to get something to drink. You guys want something?” Jacob offered.
Malini nodded. He left for the buffet table.
“You should have brought Ethan.” Even as Malini said the words, she understood the situation wasn’t as easy as that.
“I haven’t come out to my parents yet. The last thing I want is for them to find out from the neighbors.”
“How’s your dad doing, anyway?”
“Stable. They’ve started him on a new medication. Something experimental. He was able to move his hand a few days ago.”
“Excellent.”
“Yeah, another few months and he might be able to come home and completely ruin my life.”
Malini placed a hand on his. “Think positively, Dane. It’s possible this experience will change his priorities. How is the rest of the family?”
“Keeping up with the farm, thanks to Ethan and the most hired help we’ve ever used before.”
“Well, that’s something.”
He returned to folding the napkin in front of him. Malini smoothed the royal blue waist of her off-the-shoulder dress.
“How are you holding up?” Dane asked. The napkin he’d been folding, now in the shape of a crane, landed in her lap.
“Fairly paralyzed with guilt over losing Abigail. Three weeks. Can you imagine what he’s doing to her?”
Dane scowled. His normally warm composure turned icy and hard. “Yes. I know exactly what Lucifer is doing to her. And so do you. We’ve both been in her place, remember? But I also know Abigail, like you and I, wouldn’t want us to make a hasty but stupid decision to save her. She’d want us to be careful with ourselves, especially now when there’s no telling where or when Lucifer will strike.”
Malini sighed, then threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. “Thank you, Dane. You’re absolutely right. If our roles were reversed, I’d never want Abigail to compromise the Soulkeepers for me. She’d want us to do exactly what we’re doing.”
“Exactly. So stop the guilt trip,” Dane said into her cheek.
“What is going on here?” Jacob asked, setting the drinks on the table.
Malini plopped back into her chair and lifted a glass of the foamy punch. “You caught us. Our tawdry love affair is exposed.”
“As long as it’s tawdry. Nothing but the best for my girl.” Jacob leaned over and gave her a peck on the lips.
“Jacob Lau, I am going to pretend I didn’t see that.” Principal Bailey marched to their table and placed a hand on Dane’s shoulder. “Can I see you for a moment, Mr. Michaels?”
“Um, sure.” Dane followed the older man through the gym doors.
“What do you think that was about?” Jacob asked.
“A problem with the dance? Dane organized it, so he’s in charge. Someone probably flushed streamers down the toilet or something.”
Jacob took a seat next to Malini and crossed his feet at the ankles. She leaned against his shoulder and rested her head, watching her classmates party on the dance floor.
“It’s our last homecoming,” Malini said sadly.
“Of course it’s not,” Jacob insisted. “The whole point of homecoming is to welcome back alumni. We’ll be back.”
“But it won’t be the same.”
“The theme might be different.”
“We might be different.”
Less than a song later, Dane came back in. “He’s been crying,” Malini said, standing from her chair.
“I need to leave. Can you tell Erica West she’s in charge? The DJ has already been paid.”
“Of course, Dane. Are you all right? What happened?” Malini asked.
Dane searched her eyes, then looked at Jacob. “My dad … he died. He passed away tonight.”
Chapter 8
The First Gift
The angel Gabriel looked down from a place of supreme light, warmth, and love, a place humans often called Heaven or Shamayim and other names that meant the same. With wings outstretched and twitching, he watched the darkness spread across the Earth, carried by a bird made from the flesh of evil. Affliction.
The light behind him turned in his direction, and Gabriel raised his wing to shield his eyes. All angels knew better than to look directly at God in His native form. He’d heard it said such a look was the cause of the fall. Lucifer had become so arrogant he raised his eyes to God’s. The intensity of the power drove him mad, locking him inside a state of narcissism that spread like a cancer. The Archangel Michael, at the Lord’s request, battled Lucifer, throwing him and his defenders from the edge of Heaven. Those who avoided the fall said he’d believed he was a god. Lucifer? A god? Perhaps of lies, of illusion, of misery. Who would follow such a god?
“Affliction terrorizes the human souls,” Gabriel said. “Please, Lord, they need your healing. You must cure them, or we risk losing them forever.”
“You would have me wave a hand and cure them all?”
“Oh yes,” Gabriel said. “The joy it will bring them to have their health again. We will surely hear choirs singing your praises.”
God laughed, a deep, heady sound that tickled Gabriel’s heart. “The world isn’t what it once was. If I cure them, they will likely thank penicillin, or in this case, Elysium. That’s the name of the drug Lucifer created to cure his own disease.”
“Elysium? Isn’t that a Greek term for a mythical part of the underworld?”
“The irony isn’t lost on me.” The light dimmed. “Lower your wing. I’ve made it safe for you.”
Gabriel did as he was told. God had transformed into a man with shaggy hair and sandals. He stuck his weathered hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “As I was saying, although your compassion is admirable, Gabriel, I’m afraid healing will be confused for an act of human doing or of Lucifer’s. To win souls, I must give the humans a gift that will allow them to see Lucifer’s temptation for what it is. The best cure for darkness is the light.”
Terribly confused, Gabriel wrinkled his brow, leaned over the viewing glass, and rested his chin in his hands. “But how will you help them without healing them. How do you combat Lucifer’s terrible trickery?”
The Lord sighed, his breath rippling like a warm breeze through Heaven. “Lucifer’s Elysium is a lie. His pestilence is a lie. His cure is not health but an illusion. I think our gift needs to nip at the root of his weakness.”
“How?” Gabriel asked.
God reached into the wall of Heaven and pulled. A ripping sound tore through the space and then the wet slurp of molding clay. God worked the silvery stuff between his fingers. “We shall fight Lucifer’s pet bird with our own animal companion, one I think the humans will prefer to Affliction. Hold out your arm, Gabriel.”
The angel straightened and offered his robe-clad arm as requested. A great shriek preceded a set of talons large enough to wrap entirely around his forearm. The bird was parrot red, shaped like an eagle, and had a purposeful black stare. The animal fluffed her wings and nuzzled Gabriel’s nose.
“Meet my new pet, Wisdom. Crafted from Heaven’s own walls, anyone who sees this bird will understand the truth about the source of the disease and Harrington Enterprises. Lucifer expects the humans to be passive, apathetic fools, but I have already given them intelligence to rival his and the fortitude to act on it. This bir
d will simply accelerate those human traits.”
Gabriel beamed. “Perfect, as always.”
“Thank you, Gabriel.”
“Would you like me to deliver her to the world for you?”
“Yes, please, Gabriel, and stay with her along the way, to defend her against any foul play. I release my gift into your hands.”
“As you wish, My Lord.” Proudly, Gabriel spread his wings, and so did Wisdom, lifting from his arm with two mighty flaps. The angel ran for the edge of Heaven and tossed himself over, wings folding in, body dive-bombing to Earth like a bullet. Wisdom followed his lead. When they breached the atmosphere, Gabriel used his ability to blend into the light, shifting over and between skyscrapers and schools, houses and playgrounds at a speed hardly noticeable by humans but enough to do the trick. With Wisdom at his side, he began his journey to every city in every state and every country in the world.
He couldn’t reach everyone of course. Some were inside and wouldn’t see Wisdom, but from the beginning of time, this was the way of good things. Those who did see must tell those who didn’t. They always had, and they always would. Because, Gabriel knew, the way of God was stamped upon human hearts.
He flew on, the outskirts of the tiny town of Paris coming into view, where an elderly man with gray hair and square glasses was stringing Christmas lights on the eaves of a cheery yellow Cape Cod. The human male had propped his ladder carelessly with one foot on solid ground, and the other on the loose pebbles of the driveway. Early for Christmas, Gabriel thought, as this part of the world was still firmly entrenched in autumn. He supposed the elderly man meant to avoid having to do the task in icy conditions.
Wisdom passed the man first, close by his head. Gabriel had a moment to observe the wonder and awe on the man’s face at seeing the great red bird before the shock straightened his spine with a snap. The man’s plaid shirt-covered arms shot out to grab the top of the ladder to steady himself while he searched the sky for the bird. The sharp movement caused the ladder to move away from the roof. Worse, the leg resting on the stones slipped. With a deep, “Whoa!” man and ladder toppled.