DEATH SUITS HER_A Supernatural Reverse Harem Romance Adventure

by Leighton Lawless

  I wish I were the one doing it.

  I wish it were me looking into Lucifer’s eyes as his conniving and evil plans meet justice.

  This is it. A moment full of sheer ecstasy and triumph for Michael who has spent his whole existence with one purpose—to end the Great Betrayer.

  Michael whispers two more final words. “LUCIFER WEPT!”

  Lucifer looks down at the coat of arms that Michael wears, unable to even utter a single scream.

  There are enough explosives to obliterate a thousand armies.

  The whole time, Michael had been turning the Morning Star’s deceitful ways against him, pretending to pledge allegiance, so that he could sneak destruction into his enemy’s territory.

  The obsidian gloom explodes like the center of the sun as the phosphorescent blast carbonizes everything in sight.

  Like the Wrath of God, the blast craters the abyss, which trembles and then begins to drop down into the pit. After a long and horrendous crumbling of massive chunks of rock, the abyss is obliterated with a thunderclap.

  Lucifer disappears in a molten spew of dark energy.

  I know not what will become of Him next, but I do accept that the prophecies declare glorious and horrendous days ahead that include the Betrayer.

  33

  One Can Never Truly Return Home

  On the other side of the walkway, I pull Hines and Dominic into the subterranean tunnel, with Noah still in my grasp.

  The unquenchable fire from the explosion spills over the walkway, the dais, torching everything in sight.

  I squint, and for a brief moment, my rheumy eyes make out undulating wraiths dancing between the flames. What looks like the ghostly visages of Michael and Jessup, finally at peace, ascend from the flames.

  My heart is filled with hope. The righteous may have fallen today, but they also prevailed.

  I turn back into the tunnel where Hines and Dominic stand. They’re awaiting my orders.

  “Did he make it?” Dominic asks. “Or is he gone?”

  I shake my head and clutch my bladed chain. I don’t give him the answer he longs for. How can I? I don’t know the truth.

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” I say, echoing Jessup.

  “They’re all gone,” Hines says. “Jessup, Brody, and even Michael. All of the known Watchers except for the two of you and me. Little ‘ol me.”

  Hines steals a glance at Noah.

  “We’re it now. Might as well go ahead and say it out loud. We’re the archangels. Until we get a new team together, we’re the only thing standing between the innocent and the darkness. They’re going to rise again. As if that isn’t obvious. And they’re going to strike with even more rage and ferocity next time.” He pauses and grins. “No pressure or anything.”

  A grim smile trickles across Dominic’s face.

  I join him in accepting that our victory is not without unfortunate consequences. If Lucifer survived, he will come back with even more ferocity the next time He makes a move.

  I await in earnest. I long to end him once and for all.

  “I don’t have an answer for either of you,” I confess. “I’d say I’m sorry, but the truth is, I simply don’t know yet.”

  “I know you have a lot on your plate,” Dominic says to me, “but I really need to ask something.”

  “For fuck’s sake, really?” I ask. “What is this, twenty questions?”

  “Maybe ‘need’ is the wrong word,” he admits. “I just don’t want it out there hanging in the air like the elephant in the room.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Shoot,” I say.

  “Now that Jessup and his jealousy issues are out of the picture, is there a chance that I’m in the picture?” Dominic asks, with a shy head tilt.

  I can’t help but smirk and let out a short laugh.

  “In the picture?” I ask with raised eyebrows. “Okay, we’re having this discussion, I guess. I’d prefer if you just made a move and let it happen naturally, but if you need an answer, I can give you one.”

  “With bated breath,” Dominic says. “I’m on the edge of my singed seat.”

  With a grin, I reply, “Keep holding your breath. I’ll finish my answer when I damn well please.”

  Dominic grins and lets out a whoop.

  “So, what you’re saying is that there’s a chance,” he says with a grin from ear-to-ear.

  “A slim one,” I say with a smirk and glance at Hines. “This one, however, he’s got a better-than-average chance.”

  Dominic laughs, getting my meaning.

  “Hot damn. I’ll take it and love it,” Dominic says.

  “Wait, what?” Hines asks. “What the fuck are you two talking about?”

  “You don’t wanna know,” I answer.

  “Oh, he does,” Dominic interjects. “He can’t stop going on about you. It’s annoying as fuck.”

  Hines smacks Dominic across the back of the head in a bit of poetic justice.

  “That was shared in confidence,” Hines says.

  Dominic laughs.

  “You’ve got so much to learn, sugar,” he says.

  “Apparently,” Hines admits and blushes.

  I run my left hand over Hines’s shoulder to put him at ease.

  “Relax,” I say. “All that matters is that we have each other.”

  He smiles in response. We’re almost home.

  We all share a last look back at the closed-for-the-moment passageway. Then, we push ahead.

  After hours of clambering through darkness inside the subterranean tunnel, we come upon a faint sliver of light.

  Begrimed, I lead Hines, Dominic, and Noah toward the light.

  We’re all purpled from bloody bruises with scrapes up and down our arms.

  Out of the cavernous depths and to the outer ring that lies just beyond the horizon, we cross over.

  At the last second, Noah looks up at me.

  “It’s coming true. It’s all real,” he says. “Everything that Dante went through, mother. It’s happening to us.”

  “Dante from Dante’s Inferno?” Hines asks. “The Divine Comedy?”

  Noah looks over and nods.

  “I have to write a report for class on him,” he says. “I think I’ve got enough to go on now.”

  Hines replies with a half-smile, lips curled up on one side. He chuckles.

  “You know what I remember best about Dante’s Inferno,” Hines begins in his trademark rambling professorial voice.

  Noah shakes his head.

  “I remember the end,” Hines says. “‘My guide and I crossed over and began to ascend into the shining world again. And as we did, we walked out once more beneath the stars of Heaven.’”

  Noah squints and furrows, not knowing what to make of Hines’s words.

  We emerge from the tunnel right as Hines spits out his last words.

  “’Back to life, back to reality, back to the present time,’” he says.

  Strobing light from the outer ring overhead caresses us.

  I take a moment to collect myself and reach a place of calm. We’ve been through the ringer and back again.

  Despite losing so much, I’ve come back to the light with my son in tow.

  I have much to be grateful for. I pull Noah tight to my chest and breath in as we embrace. The future awaits.

  “It isn’t Heaven,” I warn Noah, “but Earth isn’t so bad.”

  Dominic looks over, red-eyed and weary.

  “And it’ll do,” he adds.

  At the edge of the outer ring of Hell, and at twilight, we move as a foursome.

  Beyond the barrier, the city above awaits our return.

  The four of us make our way toward a band of light that streaks across the horizon and up to a slab of polished stone.

  It’s a form of protection. The slab serves as a barrier into and out of Hell.

  I speak the secret names of God.

  A moment later, the slab slowly slides open and allows us passage.
>
  We ascend upward along the ramp and back into the domain of humankind.

  As we exit onto a pothole-filled city street, passersby stare at us in wide wonder.

  To them, we must look incredibly strange in appearance, covered in blood and grime, armed to the teeth, and no modern garments to conceal our angelic battle armor.

  Not to mention, we are coming straight out of Hell.

  The faintest rumble emanates from behind us. The forces of darkness have been knocked down but not out.

  The best we can do is pretend that we haven’t just saved the lives of the revelers before us. That we haven’t just given our all and lost loved ones for them and us.

  The best we can do is blend in and act like we’re simply out for a night on the town.

  We merge into the mass of partygoers as they file in and out of dive bars, speakeasies, and late-night coffee shops. With all the other costumes, Mardi Gras masks, and revelry, we actually almost blend in.

  The smell of beignets, square-shaped fried dough, po’ boy sandwiches, and jambalaya fill my nostrils as we slip through the chaos that is Mardi Gras and make our way to the Saint Louis Cathedral.

  The chapel looks empty from the outside, but I know better.

  Down below, The Order will be present, carefully monitoring the battle from above.

  I shove the front doors open and barge inside.

  We march down the side corridor and down into the underground chapel during a late-night service meant for only the most exclusive members of The Order.

  Father Cote is in the middle of delivering Mass in front of two dozen worshippers as a thrumming sound echoes from under the floor.

  Father Cote studies the chapel’s ancient, wooden floorboards as they begin to rattle at the same moment as our return.

  I don’t know what that means exactly, but I know that it makes Father Cote quite uncomfortable.

  Dust and debris and wood-shrapnel cloud the chapel.

  The worshippers stare with wild eyes as we appear like otherworldly creatures at the entrance.

  We didn’t come out of the ground, but it seems like we did.

  Well, we did come up out of the ground, just not at this moment.

  Noah, Dominic, Hines, and I emerge from the ancient staircase.

  Father Cote and I share a knowing look as I raise my left hand and thrust my bladed chain into the consecrated ground.

  “Did you know?” I ask. “Did you know about Jessup?”

  Father Cote wipes sweat from his forehead as he turns ten shades paler.

  That’s all the answer I need.

  “We’re done working for you,” I say with disgust in my tone. “We’re on our own now. Consider all debts paid in full. We no longer answer to your rules. We answer to true righteousness.”

  Father Cote cowers in fear as he nods in understanding.

  I turn and lead the others from the cathedral and back out into the storm-swept city streets.

  The four of us take in the fresh air and the inky blackness of night.

  My eyes lock on an illuminated hospital building that glows like a beacon in the shrouded cityscape.

  I quicken my pace and head straight for the hospital.

  The others rush to keep up with me.

  After barging through the hospital entrance, I hustle past startled doctors and nurses, who can’t help but stare at my holy armor.

  I don’t have time to explain to them.

  I make my way into an inner corridor and push into a secluded room.

  Hines and Dominic stay behind, as Noah and I rush inside, where we find Jenkins.

  I freeze and watch as Jenkins leans up in his bed, injured but awake and alive.

  He’s a sight to behold.

  Noah rushes over and hugs his father.

  I don’t say a word.

  What’s there to say? We’re together.

  Instead, I grin from ear-to-ear for the first time in a very long time.

  “Are these your new lovers?” Jenkins asks, glancing at Hines and Dominic.

  I smirk.

  “To be determined,” I answer tongue-in-cheek. “Not saying I’m not feeling it. I am. But, we’ll see.”

  Jenkins chuckles.

  “You do you,” he says.

  Just as I’m about to finally allow myself to feel hope, peace, and a sense of victory, a shimmer of movement catches my eye.

  I look toward the hospital room window.

  There’s a flash.

  I slip over and peer out.

  My eyes fall on the homeless veteran who witnessed our last mission aboveground. The one who got caught in the crossfire when we took down Vic Jacobs.

  I broke protocol and didn’t wipe the veteran’s memory as was my charge.

  He beams up at me.

  I don’t know how he found me. I should be disturbed. I should be worried that he was able to find us.

  I’m not, though.

  His eyes are warm. His countenance emanates kindness. His calm portrays that he’s more than meets the eye.

  The last time I saw him, I slipped cash into his left breast pocket.

  His tattered camouflage fatigues needed replacing. He looked hungry.

  He bore a tattoo of three wolves inside a crest with a skull on the bottom left and a Marine Corps emblem of an Eagle, Globe, and Anchor in the center.

  Chills run down my spine.

  He’s more than he appears. I see that now.

  He always has been. He’s been keeping watch over the Watchers.

  I don’t know for certain if he’s the One. I don’t know for certain whether or not He’s simply the new leader of Heaven’s army.

  He could be an archangel whose name I’m not familiar with, whose face is unfamiliar to me.

  What I do know, however, is that He keeps watch.

  He smiles broadly.

  Then, He mouths a message to me.

  “Thank you,” he says.

  I’m unable to hear Him from up here in the hospital room, with a closed window. It’s impossible to hear His voice.

  I can only read His lips. Yet, I know His meaning.

  “Thank you,” he mouths. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  I part my lips to mouth words back, but a flash of light envelopes the person I thought was a homeless veteran.

  His tattered clothes transform into a shimmering purple robe, the color of royalty.

  His beard appears more majestic than before and even powerful.

  His mane of hair flows over His shoulders with vitality.

  I could swear I see a glimmering and shiny sword at His side, but He vanishes before I can be certain, leaving behind a cracked sidewalk where He had been standing.

  After His visage is gone, the sweet melody of angels singing resonates in my ears.

  “He will not let you be defeated. He who guards you never sleeps.” Psalm Chapter One Hundred Twenty-one, Verse Three.

  THE END

  Afterword

  Whew!

  Telling this story was an act of pouring my heart into an experience I’ve been wanting to share for years.

  It all goes back to a single thought that popped into my head like an little reminder of that thing we’ve all said ten years ago that we still regret and are embarrassed about even though no one else likely remembers.

  The thought was this: What if the battle between good and evil became a little more personal and caught the ones we care about most up in its maelstrom?

  As we continue to ponder that question, I want to thank you!

  I cannot express how grateful I am that you came on this adventure with me and that you’re reading about the thoughts on telling the story itself.

  Jumping into an adventure, escaping for a moment, and exploring unfathomable experiences is something I’ve always loved doing before my fingers were even capable of prying open the mysterious and magical pages of a book.

  How many of us have lit up with excitement and joy when a loved one took th
e time to tell us a bedtime story?

  This book isn’t exactly a bedtime story, by any means. The feeling, however, is similar.

  Once I was a teenager, I started creating stories and telling them over coffee and lunch to anyone who would listen, listening and watching, learning how folks enjoy stories, always hoping to get better at it.

  A big part of growing as a writer is reading.

  The local library gave me a special notation on my checkout card, so I could borrow more than five per week. No, I’m not that voracious, they were mostly children’s books.

  That is until I discovered The Master and Margarita by accident because my parents thought the talking cat meant it was kid-friendly, and all bets were off…

  Luckily, I grew up on a farm, so there was enough quiet that I could sneak outside, climb up a tree, and read to my heart’s delight.

  I found my first true friends inside stories. And the experiences I got to enjoy from going with them on adventures, well, that was my first taste of the world OUTSIDE and WITHIN!

  As for the desire to share stories with you, my hope is to connect the unimaginable and fantastic to feelings we have on a daily basis.

  If I can connect with the characters, then I get to feel their moments of exhilaration, valleys of defeat, laugh unexpectedly, say ‘hey, I get that reference,’ and I really want to experience their victories. “Don’t underestimate me!”

  In short, I want to care about the characters. I want to feel that they could be my neighbors and that they could also be incredibly mysterious and interesting and have worries and cares and passions that I either relate to or at least understand.

  If you enjoyed this story, please leave your thoughts for me or join me in a discussion group so we can connect.

  Want to comment on your favorite scene, most relatable character, most interesting moment to you, and what kinds of weapons you’d like to see Samya wield next, or anything else?

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