Leveling a look at the one who dared to approach him, Lucifer stared for a long moment, yet nothing was visible in the darkness of his eyes. “Now why am I not surprised? Foolish Nias. However, your luck holds, Eton. I’m not in the mood to destroy you for that appalling piece of news. It just means I have to deal with it all myself, now doesn’t it?”
Not expecting an answer, Lucifer rose slowly from his throne. Eton nodded and stood, backing away from the dais. No one with a sense of self-preservation turned a back to the Prince of Hell. Eton dissolved into the shadows without a word.
A dark cloak appeared, covering most of his form as Lucifer walked down the steps. Nobody dared to approach him, and quite a few took several steps backward. Temporarily trumped in his aim to balance the power of the cosmos, Lucifer wasn’t about to let it stand in his way.
Before any eye could take in the lack of his presence, he was gone. He stepped out into the shielding form of night and the surrounding scenery gave him pause. It had been some time since he’d bothered to return to the first world of the universe. And in the interim, it had indeed changed. Contrary to popular belief, he had no use for its inhabitants, and hadn’t since the Fall. After mortals turned their backs on the Fallen and what they had fought for, his embittered sense of betrayal refused to even dwell on the existence of humans.
“Oh. I’ve never seen you around here,” a voice said from behind Lucifer. Its owner stepped away from the brick wall of a nearby building, clutching a lighter in his hand as he lit a cigarette. Taking a slow drag from it, he looked Lucifer up and down, his gaze hungry.
Lucifer stared at the being. To know the creatures he had once loved no longer even believed in him was a bitter pill to swallow. And he wanted to know none of them face to face. Only the chance at tapping into the essence of Michael’s power had stirred Lucifer from his own realm. “And I’m someone you don’t want to see either.”
As Lucifer stepped closer to the young mortal, he raised his hand to the boy’s chin. A gentle grip tilted his face as Lucifer studied him. Beneath the layers of chaos, Lucifer could still see the beauty of the creation. “You enjoy what you do, but you would rather be free to choose who you do it with. Instead, you are bound by your need to feed yourself and for a place to live. Is this the cause for the sadness you hide? You are Michael’s creation.”
The young man’s mouth dropped open. Blinking, he just stared at Lucifer. “I love getting fucked, love sucking, but yeah, if it were up to me, I’d choose the guys. How the fuck did you know that? And who the fuck is Michael? My pop’s name is Richard.”
What Lucifer saw tugged at him. There was too much sadness stifling the beautiful light within. It seemed as if mortals did retain the same power over his kind, much to his regret. Sighing quietly, he lowered his hand. “Your human father doesn’t interest me, child.” Taking hold of the boy’s hand, he pressed a card into it. “If you are wise, you will seek out this address in the morning.”
“Uh. Yeah.” The hooker looked down at the card then back up at Lucifer. “My name’s Raven—well, Trent, but everyone calls me Raven.”
“Raven, there is too much of value inside you. Your life starts with that card. Use it wisely.” Turning away, Lucifer made his way down the street. He wasn’t far from his intended target.
From his perch atop a three-story building, Michael watched the scene play out below. As Lucifer walked away from the young man, Michael just shook his head. Lifting a hand, he erased any memory of what had transpired and destroyed the card. He was not one to interfere in the lives of men in such direct ways, but at times it was necessary. Jumping down to the alley between two buildings, Michael waited.
Lucifer proceeded to turn down the alley as a short cut to the next street. Then he stilled abruptly, the tension of his body revealing his awareness of Michael. His creator was not too far off. He stubbornly resisted the assailing sense even as it rippled through him. Narrowing his eyes, he rapidly rethought his plans. Lucifer had no desire to come across Michael at this point. As he backed up, he had every intention of returning to his own realm.
“And where might you be going?”
Emerging from the shadows, Michael walked toward Lucifer. Emerald wings as long as he was tall at nearly six and a half feet twitched as a breeze blew through the alley. Blond hair spilled over his shoulders, and he stopped just in front of Lucifer, arms crossed.
“This is not your realm.”
“That would be my business, not yours, Michael.”
“You’ve grown more impertinent,” Michael said coolly. “And you are gravely mistaken.” The Archangel’s blue gaze sharpened as he stared at Lucifer. “Everything here is my business,” Michael whispered, his voice stern and deep.
Once the most beloved and trusted of Michael’s creations, Lucifer now felt the coldness of separation more keenly with his creator’s closer proximity. Yet he hid the depth of it within himself. “They no longer even believe in me. And the few who do…” He trailed off, unable to even complete the sentence. “What I want has nothing to do with your creation.” Not about to get into a war of words with Michael, Lucifer abruptly disappeared to return to his own throne room.
“You cannot run from me. I am a part of you, just as you are a part of me.”
Lucifer shut out the words echoing in his mind as several of his minions scattered with his sudden reappearance. He hadn’t expected to come face-to-face with Michael. Stalking from the room, he headed into the corridor toward his own private quarters.
“You were my finest creation.”
As he shut the door, Lucifer heard the voice and whirled around. The massive gilt mirror on his wall reflected the image of his creator back at him.
“No longer. I am nothing to you.” Lucifer turned his back on the image, ignoring Michael.
“There was a time…when you were everything to me,” Michael said.
Closing his eyes, Lucifer tried desperately to shut out the voice. The cloak dissolved into his wings. The ebony shield protected him as Lucifer lay on the bed. “That time is no more, Michael.”
“Yet a part of you still longs for it.”
“You delude yourself.” Lucifer’s voice lacked the conviction to give truth to the words. Opening his eyes, he stared at his own reflection in one of the other mirrors.
“Do I?” The mirror’s surface shimmered like water on a pond, and an incorporeal figure stepped out into the room. Michael’s form was nearly translucent as he stared down at Lucifer.
Lucifer abruptly sat up, giving Michael a challenging look. “I don’t need you. I never have. Your great age has confused your memory.”
“Your eyes betray your words.” Michael’s voice seemed to vibrate around them, blanketing the air. “Fallen or no, you are still mine.”
Lucifer sneered. “You are mistaken. I belong to none but myself. I was shut out, forgotten and left here. I need nothing and want nothing from you.”
“Your arrogance and pride landed you here,” Michael countered. The silver material of his short tunic sparkled in the light from the torches scattered about the room as Michael moved closer to the bed. “You forget that it was I who made you, I who gave you life, who taught you to love and be loved.”
Lucifer stood, facing the transparent form, his wings twitching restlessly. He could feel Michael’s presence seeping into his entire being. “And you are forgetting to leave me alone to wallow in the misery.”
“We are two halves of the same being,” Michael said. “Two halves of one soul.”
“I am my own, Michael.”
Michael reached out, ghost-like fingers touching Lucifer’s. “Denial does not change fact.”
For a moment, Lucifer tried to hold onto Michael’s hand, longing for what once was burned within him. Jerking back, he fisted his hands at his side. “This is my world now. The illusion that hides the despair and misery of others.”
If there was pain within Michael, he did not show it. Letting his arm fall back to his side
, he simply nodded. “You can deny me all you like, but it will not change the truth: I am within you.” With that, his image faded away.
Lucifer tried to reach for him, to grasp whatever he could of what was left. His pride had always gotten in the way and left him with nothing. Searing pain rocked through him, everything he had locked away brought out in a moment. “Michael, please,” he whispered to the empty air. The second he acknowledged it, Lucifer tried desperately to shove it back down as he returned to his bed.
Ruthlessly, he dealt with the very thing that tried to rise in him. Only when the void returned to his soul did he finally relax. A lazy wave of his hand opened his chamber doors. His minions entered, the sound of their laughter filling the room.
Some of them draped themselves across his bed, and the others lounged on the scattered pillows on the floor. As he closed his eyes, hands reached for him, smoothing over his flesh in feather-light caresses. Some of the Fallen maintained a male form and some chose female. The union of angels was a far different thing, something Lucifer had known only with Michael. The physical mating of humans was all that was left to him, and its pleasures were sufficient. Or so he told himself.
Complacent for but a moment beneath the fondling, Lucifer stretched beneath the hands before he reached for one of the males. With a forceful pressure, he flipped Ananan over onto his stomach. Rising to his hands and knees, the other demon stared over his shoulder at Lucifer with lust-filled eyes. With no warning or preparation, Lucifer’s talons pierced Ananan’s hip, and a hard grip pulled him back, impaling Ananan on the dark angel’s cock. A cry filled with pleasure and pain reached Lucifer as he relentlessly took what he wanted.
The tight pressure of his hands rocked Ananan’s hips, pulling his ass back into every brutal thrust. Lucifer could only briefly lose himself in the union. Even as the inexorable pressure built up in him, a pained cry escaped Lucifer, reaching into the Heavens themselves. His soul was truly lost and had no place to go. The haunting lamentation had no words; its music was a fragile sound drifting in the space between time and reality. The song was heard but not answered.
Chapter Two
It had taken Lucifer a bit of time to trace the elusive mage. The conflicting reports he’d heard hadn’t helped matters any. Finally, Lucifer received a reliable message about where the mage had been hiding. The wizard had indeed done the unthinkable—he’d tapped into the very essence of the power of the cosmos. It should have been a relatively easy thing for Lucifer to gain for himself, yet thus far it hadn’t proven easy at all.
Leaving his minions behind, Lucifer reluctantly returned to Earth. It would have been better if the mage maintained his own realm instead of Lucifer having to traipse around a place he hated to be in. Yet he couldn’t give up the chance to gain the power for himself. He needed it for more reasons than he allowed himself to dwell on.
The house was dark with no discernible lights on anywhere inside. The neighborhood was generally quiet, the streets empty, leaving only the occasional shadow of a cat running across the street.
“For someone who despises this place, you seem to return to it time and again.”
“Maybe I’m just getting to know the place once more.” Lucifer faced Michael with a casual shrug. “It needn’t concern you.”
Pushing away from the tree he’d been leaning against, Michael walked over to him, standing close enough to touch, though he didn’t. “And since when have you taken to craving the company of mortals?” There was more to be said, but it went unspoken. Michael’s eyes made the rest crystal clear.
“Isn’t it about time I crawled out of my hole?”
“Or is it that you want it filled again?” Michael took to the air, touching down with grace on the rooftop of the house they’d both been watching.
Moonlight filtered through the clouds above and gave Lucifer’s wings a glistening, ghostly appearance as they stretched to their full span. He landed near Michael. “Oh, that’s been filled many a time, Michael.”
Michael lifted an eyebrow. “Somehow,” he whispered, moving closer, “I doubt that.”
Turning his back on Michael, Lucifer stared out at the neighborhood. “I hate to disappoint you on that. So if it makes you feel better, I’ll lie and say it hasn’t been.”
Michael slid a fingertip over the top of Lucifer’s left wing as he whispered in his ear, “You cannot lie to me. Your soul and body remember, even if your mind has chosen to forget.”
Lucifer growled softly. No part of him had ever forgotten what it had been like to be with Michael. He had craved it for eons. Fighting the desire to lean back, Lucifer simply shook his head. “Do you believe it was ever easy to forget, Michael?”
Sliding his fingers through Lucifer’s hair, Michael pulled back his head, lips ghosting over Lucifer’s ear. “Do you think it has been easy for me? Do you think I don’t crave your touch still?”
“I think it was easy for you, yes.” After so many ages passed, Lucifer no longer was assured of anything concerning Michael. Closing his eyes, he turned his head slightly, unable to stop himself from pressing closer to the touch of those lips, not even when his rational mind demanded he move away before he became entrapped. “I no longer know you.”
“Two halves,” Michael breathed across Lucifer’s lips. “I still need you.”
“And I told you, I need nothing.” Closing the distance, Lucifer captured Michael’s mouth with his own, if only to prove to himself there was no longer anything there. Michael turned Lucifer until they were facing then folded his wings around them. Fingers sliding through Lucifer’s hair, Michael pushed his tongue deep into Lucifer’s mouth, swept through it, touching on memories best left untapped. The warmth of Michael’s presence flooded Lucifer’s soul. For a moment, Lucifer allowed himself to feel the hunger he’d so carefully hidden. An edge of desperation crept into his actions before he could stop it. His fingers tangled within his creator’s hair, remembering the silkiness, the sensations of it drifting over his skin.
Using nothing more than a single thread of thought, Michael took them away from there, into the place between the realms of Heaven, Earth and Hell. The room, if it could be called that, was cut into a towering mountain. Michael backed Lucifer against the smooth stone, hunger growing as the kiss deepened. His knee lodged between Lucifer’s thighs, tight against his body. He slid his fingers down the edges of Lucifer’s wings, knowing where the most sensitive spots were, where a single touch could spark an inferno.
Lucifer couldn’t escape now and knew it. Michael held him captive and in the palm of his hand. He parted his legs and couldn’t stop himself from rubbing against Michael’s thigh as a shudder rolled through him. The small spark became a rage of need, to feel everything he could—even if just one more time.
“Yes,” Michael whispered as he worked the leather pants open. He pressed harder against Lucifer, giving him some friction. Once Lucifer’s pants were undone, Michael pushed them down his hips. “Ride me.”
Lucifer lost himself in the feel of the fingers around him. His hips jerked as he began to fuck Michael’s hand. Closing his eyes, Lucifer tipped his head back against the wall as he obeyed the need and instinct of his body. Edging his hand between them, he pressed his palm against the front of Michael’s pants, adding his own friction to the mix. The familiar, delicious sensations drenched him. Right or wrong, it didn’t matter at this moment in time.
Michael recaptured Lucifer’s mouth, tongue sliding deep as he spread Lucifer’s legs apart. With a shift of his hips, Michael had Lucifer’s legs around him, his cock freed with a simple tug to the tie on his pants. All it took was a swift thrust to drive him deep inside Lucifer’s body.
The swift penetration brought with it burning pain, along with searing pleasure. Lucifer had never known another like this, had never wanted to. This part of him belonged truly to his creator. Using his hands on Michael’s shoulders for leverage, he pushed down harder, impaling himself fully on Michael.
Pinning him
against the wall, Michael thrust hard and fast, driving deep inside, over and over. Every inch of his body, every shred of his soul, needed this, need to feel the heat and rage and need that only Lucifer could give him.
“Part of me,” he said, the words followed by a low growl into Lucifer’s mouth. Michael doubled his efforts, fist stroking over Lucifer’s cock, thumb probing the slit on every upstroke.
A chaotic swirl of emotions answered Michael. Lucifer no longer knew where he began or ended. Connected to his creator, Lucifer could only swim in the swift current of sensations that overrode all sense and reason. Insatiable, devouring need washed over him. Then it all exploded and he shuddered. Every muscle tightened in the near painful, exhilarating release. “Michael!”
“Mine.” The word was partly said, partly growled, Michael thrusting several more times before lightning raced up his spine and out his cock, filling Lucifer with near-blinding brilliance.
Lucifer became blind to everything but what filled him. The light burned him and took him over, leaving him to fall into the overwhelming expanse of infinity itself. Surrounded only by Michael’s essence, Lucifer momentarily lost himself in the exquisite bliss.
Slowly coming down, Lucifer refused to acknowledge the one word as he collapsed against Michael. Resting his forehead to the angel’s shoulder, Lucifer resisted the very implication. Though his soul longed for the eternal completion of himself, a barrier of ice and pain kept him from expressing it.
“I am always with you,” Michael whispered into Lucifer’s ear. “I am a part of you.”
It had taken only the short time in his creator’s presence to leave Lucifer battling the memories fighting to be free. A familiar coldness descended over him, and he held to it like a shield. Yet it was no longer enough. With baleful eyes, he watched his minions as he sprawled on his throne. The angelic beauty of his face and form remained unmarred, and he appeared hauntingly distant to those around him. The illusion served him well.
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