Grace and Glory

by Armentrout, Jennifer L.

  Lucifer sat in Roth’s living room, stretched out on the sectional, watching television. Clothed at least. Actually, partially clothed. He’d manifested a pair of black leather pants, and that was about it. We had no idea if he was successful in creating The Omen. We’d asked. He gave us a look even I could see that said mind your own business.

  And at the moment, that’s what we all were doing. Minding our own business.

  That and trying to get Lucifer to be somewhat useful and tell us how he could kill Gabriel.

  He wasn’t being exactly helpful.

  First, he was hungry. So Cayman ordered up some late-night Uber eats. While he waited for the food to arrive, he found the television, and I’d never seen someone so enthralled before. He flipped through the channels continuously and then somehow ended up on one of the streaming services. I’d gone to use the bathroom, and when I came back, someone—I was going to blame Cayman for this—had turned on Supernatural, to the Lucifer season, and the real one was invested. He’d all but forced Layla to pull up some website to give him a blow-by-blow description of season one through whatever. By the time the food arrived, he was completely caught up. Then he ate. Then he watched two more episodes, a box of Pop-Tarts appearing out of thin air it seemed. At this point, it had to be almost four in the morning. Layla had passed out on the end of the couch and woke up, and I was this close to throwing the TV through a wall.

  “Lucifer,” Roth tried again, at the end of another episode. “You said that if you killed Gabriel, we would create a whole new problem. Can you tell us what that is?”

  “If you let me watch one more episode in peace and quiet, I will,” Lucifer retorted.

  “You said that at the end of the last episode,” I said, sitting on the edge of the couch, struggling with my patience.

  “But Lucifer is about to start the apocalypse—”

  “He doesn’t succeed!” I shouted, and yes, it was superweird to hear Lucifer refer to the fictional version of himself. “He ends up in the cage with Michael, who has possessed the one Winchester brother everyone has forgotten!” I shouted. “It will be, like, seven more seasons until he comes back.”

  Lucifer stared at me.

  I stared back at him.

  “You just spoiled the plot,” he snarled.

  “It came out over ten years ago! There is a time limit. Sorry. You can no longer cry spoiler.”

  “But there’s no cable television in Hell,” he shot back.

  “He has a point,” Zayne murmured from where he stood behind me.

  I sent him a glare that should’ve fried him on the spot. “Look, Lucifer comes back again and again. Okay? There’s plenty more seasons for you to watch. I won’t tell you what happens if you just answer our questions.” I drew in a deep breath. “Please.”

  “I’m starting to regret saving your life earlier.” Lucifer sighed heavily. “Do any of you even know what happens when you kill an angel?”

  “No. Sorry,” I said. “We don’t make a habit of killing angels.”

  “Well, my familiar ate two of them once,” Roth chimed in. “Nothing really happened.”

  “Nothing that you were aware of. When an angel dies, their Glory will return to its source.”

  “God?” I guessed.

  He nodded. “Just like a kid returning home to Daddy Dearest.”

  I blinked.

  “Okay. So is that a problem?” Zayne asked.

  “Is that a problem?” Lucifer chuckled. “Not normally, but what’s inside Gabriel is a festering taint. His Glory and his grace are corrupted. Probably more so than mine, and it would be like launching napalm at the Heavens. God isn’t going to allow that to return home.” Lucifer glanced at the TV, and yep, he was sucked right back in. He grinned as he unwrapped yet another Pop-Tart. “I like this portrayal. Though Sam and Dean really need to start communicating better.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to count to ten.

  Roth leaned forward, impatience crowding his features. I half expected him to snap his fingers. “So what does that mean exactly?”

  “What does what mean?” Lucifer asked around a mouthful of pastry.

  “I think he has that thing you have. You know, being unable to pay attention,” Cayman whispered from where he collapsed on the couch beside me, and I nodded in agreement. There wasn’t enough amphetamine in the world to treat Lucifer.

  Roth briefly closed his eyes. “What will happen if God doesn’t let it return home?”

  “Oh. That.” Lucifer stretched back, sweeping away a dusting of crumbs from his chest as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “Knowing God like I do? He’s going to punt-kick that shit back down to Earth. All that nastiness is going to explode all over His most treasured creations—How many seasons are there of this?”

  “A lot,” I answered. “What’s that going to do? All that...nastiness?”

  “What will it do?” A slow smile crept across his face, and the tiny hairs all over my body rose. He truly was unbelievably beautiful, especially when he smiled, but dear God and baby angels everywhere, he was also unbelievably creepy, especially when he smiled like that. His eyes closed and he made a sound that made my cheeks heat. “You won’t just have an air quality problem. The taint will reach across the world, until every land, every sea and all the mountains are coated with the corruption. All that anger, that hatred and bitterness and evil, will work its way into everyone.” He moaned, the sound rapturous. “Brother will turn against brother, mother against child. It will be an unending orgy of violence and depravity. Only the most pious will be spared and even they will suffer great losses.”

  Uh.

  “That, um, sounds problematic,” I murmured.

  Lucifer took a bite of the Pop-Tart as he refocused on the screen. “To you? Yes. To me? I’ll have an influx of long-term houseguests to occupy my time with.”

  Roth sat back, dragging his hand through his hair, while Layla gaped at Lucifer.

  I glanced over at Zayne, who now looked like he was a second away from throwing the TV through the wall. “We can’t let that happen,” I said. “We’re trying to save the world, not destroy it.”

  “No, you’re not trying to save the world.” Lucifer’s attention snapped to me, and it took everything in me not to shrink back from his full focus. “You’re trying to save the world and what awaits beyond this realm. There will be casualties. Untold ones. Souls will be lost. You’re going to sacrifice a whole lot to save everything.”

  His words settled heavily on my shoulders, and I could tell they weighed on Zayne, too. He stared at the TV, but I knew he wasn’t aware of what was on the screen.

  But would God really do that? Watch the world and the Heavens be saved only for it to slowly be ripped apart? That sounded even worse than the Old Testament God.

  “So...” Layla cleared her throat. “That’s going to be the outcome if we kill Gabriel? A world descending in chaos?”

  “Pretty much.” Lucifer finished off the Pop-Tart. “Except there is one thing that might happen.”

  Everyone in the room was on pins and needles while Lucifer slowly crumpled up the silver foil and tossed it. The Pop-Tart wrapper landed in the small hill of empty junk food containers.

  Once Lucifer took his sweet time reclining back onto the couch, readjusting his legs and folding his hands behind his head, he said, “God could always intervene.”

  We all stared at him.

  He raised one eyebrow.

  Zayne’s jaw worked as he bit out, “How could God intervene?”

  “That’s a very good question, Fallen,” Lucifer purred, and now Zayne looked like he was about to throw Lucifer through a wall with the TV.

  The image of Lucifer flying through a wall behind a flat-screen TV brought a rather disturbing smile to my face.

  “God could always nullify all that
bad stuff.” Lucifer wiggled his toes. “Stop it before all that nastiness could infect the little, pure and precious human souls.”

  “How does God do that?” I asked, almost too afraid to be hopeful.

  Lucifer lifted a shoulder. “God could snap His fingers and stop it.”

  “That’s all?” Disbelief filled Roth’s tone.

  “God is God.” Lucifer glanced at the crown prince. “You of all people know exactly what God can do. And you of all people know that just because God can do anything and everything doesn’t mean God will do anything other than sit back and let it work itself out. Free will and all.”

  Roth tipped his head back and sighed after a moment. “Yeah, you have a point there. What is the likelihood of God stepping in?”

  “About as likely as me no longer singing ‘Barbie Girl’ while I make my rounds through the Circles of Hell.”

  Wait. What?

  “Aw, Hell,” muttered Roth.

  “You’re really suggesting that God wouldn’t do anything?” Layla asked.

  “I’m suggesting what all of you should already know,” he responded. “Hate to say it, but Gabriel has a point. A dull one, but one nonetheless. Mankind isn’t the greatest. I’m not going to bore myself listing all the obvious reasons why, but I know I get more new arrivals than the Heavens do. Maybe God has checked out,” he said, and there was an unnerving softness to his tone. Each word wrapped in silk. “Maybe God just doesn’t care anymore, forsaking the most treasured creations. Look throughout history. There were many times God could’ve stepped in and ended countless horrific and senseless tragedies but chose not to. God acts like the rules can’t be broken when God is the one who created them.”

  No one in the room spoke. Not even Cayman. Everyone, including Roth, was transfixed.

  “Some say I’m the monster, the nightmare in the dark and the evil hiding in plain sight, but when a child dies needlessly, it is not a life I’ve taken. When a mother takes her last breath due to disease, it is not by my will. When a brother dies senselessly, it is not a part of my plan. Death and war and disease are not my creations. I cannot stop them. I’m not the creator. Right or wrong, at the end of the day, I’m just an opportunist,” Lucifer said. “But what is God? Because at the end of the day, God could take all that pain away. So, tell me, who is the real monster?”

  “The father of lies,” Zayne murmured, and I blinked, as if coming out of a daze. “Yeah, God is to blame for everything—the true wolf hiding among the sheep and the other wolves. Sure. I’m also the tooth fairy and you’re not the great manipulator.”

  A slow smile crept across Lucifer’s face. “And just think of how many would have heard my words and believed me? Believed my legions?”

  “Based on what I’ve seen people believe on social media?” Layla whispered. “Millions.”

  I nodded slowly, suddenly hyperaware once more of who and what sat on the couch, watching Supernatural. People needed someone to blame, even if there was no one at fault or if the fault rested solely in their hands.

  “People have already believed your words,” I said.

  “They have.” Lucifer’s focus shifted once more to the television. “So, my friends, do you really need to wonder why God wouldn’t intervene?”

  29

  Bleary-eyed and still half-asleep, I cradled the cup of coffee like it held the answers to life, while I sat curled up on the small, thickly cushioned sofa in the sunroom of Roth and Layla’s place. Zayne’s sunglasses shielded the bright rays of sunlight streaming in from the windows and ceiling. Normally, I felt weird wearing sunglasses indoors, but I was too tired to care.

  Actually, I just didn’t care. Everyone around me knew I had vision problems, but even if they didn’t, who cared if they thought I was trying to act cool. That was their problem. Not mine.

  Beside me, Zayne stretched out his long legs as he took a drink from the bottled water. Even as a Fallen, he had way healthier eating and drinking habits than me and half the population of the world.

  “We still have to try,” Layla said, smothering a yawn as she picked up the conversation that had ended when we all had been mere minutes from passing out. Zayne and I had ended up crashing at their place since it had been so late and they had a million rooms in their house. “Even if God punt-kicks Gabriel’s essence back down to Earth, we have to try.”

  “And then what?” Roth scratched a hand through his messy, dark hair.

  “Then we take care of whatever mess comes from this,” Zayne stated. “That’s all we can do.”

  “We?” Roth snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms.

  “Yes. We.” Layla smacked his arm. “Because I don’t want to spend the next how many hundred years living in a world descending into chaos. I also don’t want to watch a whole bunch of innocent people getting hurt or dying because of it.”

  A twinge of jealousy cut through my chest. Layla and Roth had a real future—one where neither had to worry about the other growing old and dying while the other outlived them. I at least had the common sense to not blame them for what they had no control over.

  “I also don’t want to spend the next how many hundred years fighting everyone and everything,” Roth replied, and I really couldn’t blame him for that.

  “We really don’t have an option,” Zayne said, draping his arm along the back of our couch. “Either we deal with the possible fallout or we allow the Heavens to basically close up shop.”

  “And that would be worse,” I said, my grip tightening on the mug. “Anyone who dies would be stuck here. Every square inch of Earth would turn into the high school. So we’d have that in addition to the demons to deal with, but you know—”

  A burst of deep laughter from the living room interrupted me. Rolling my eyes, I took a sip of the coffee. “Do you think he even slept?”

  Layla sighed as she shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s been watching Supernatural.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t complain. At least he’s obsessed with a good show.” I lowered my mug. “What I don’t understand is if Lucifer plays by the rules, why would his demons then swarm Earth if Gabriel is successful?”

  “Not all of them would, but a great deal would. There are demons on the fence right now who are tired of being relegated to Hell or only allowed limited visitations topside. They listen to Lucifer, but if Gabriel succeeds, Earth would become one giant playground,” Roth explained. “That would be too hard for them to ignore.”

  “And because they’re idiots.” Lucifer sauntered past the opening of the sunroom. “And I’ll be honest,” he said, his voice carrying into the room. “I won’t be too upset if it happens. Yeah, it would burn my britches to know that one of my holier-than-thou brothers succeeded where I didn’t, but the giant cesspool that Earth would become would be fun.”

  I glanced at Zayne as we heard the fridge door open and the sound of a tab on a can of soda being popped open. Zayne shook his head.

  “At least he’s being honest,” Layla murmured.

  I giggled.

  Lucifer appeared in the doorway, a can of Coke in one hand and yet another Pop-Tart in the other. “Do you all even know where Gabriel or Bael are at?”

  “We’re working on that,” I told him.

  “In other words, you have no idea where he is and whatever plan you have is pretty much like playing eeny meeny miny moe?”

  I frowned. “We’re trying to catch one of the demons working for him to send a message—”

  “That’s all I need to hear.” Lucifer held up his hand. “I’ll have one of my minions look into it. You’re welcome.”

  I lifted my brows as I stared at him. “And once we find where he is or are able to lead him out, how are you going to kill him?”

  “How are we going to kill him is what you mean,” he corrected. “Two of us could get it done, but it will be a lot ea
sier with the three of us, which is probably why they let you Fall and keep your grace.”

  We already knew that was the case, but I asked, “And how do the three of us do this?”

  “All I need to do is remove his heart, and then his head would need to be severed at the same moment the chamber where his heart once was is pierced with grace.”

  I stared at him.

  “That’s all?” Zayne repeated.

  Lucifer nodded. “All three things have to be done as simultaneously as possible. You’ll have seconds to remove his head and pierce his chest before his body regenerates his heart. By the way.” Lucifer started to turn as he looked at Roth. “You’re out of Pop-Tarts. I need more.”

  Roth glared at his retreating back. “I don’t even know where he got those Pop-Tarts. Neither of us bought them.”

  “Cayman,” Layla said, glancing over her shoulder. Lucifer had made his way back to the living room. “His minions?”

  “He likes words like that.” Roth tapped his fingers off the table. “Well, now we know how to kill Gabriel.”

  We did, and it sounded a little impossible. And it sounded like completely impossible if we didn’t have Lucifer, because how in the world would Zayne and I been able to pull that off? Maybe that was why the biblical end times hadn’t kicked off...yet. God knew we needed Lucifer’s help.

  “Whether any of his contacts will be useful, who knows,” Roth went on. “I’d be surprised if he can stop watching Supernatural long enough to even contact anyone.”

  “I wish I had his life right now,” I murmured, placing my mug on the table. “I know God hasn’t been all that hands-on, but to think that God would allow Earth to just be contaminated?”

  “Hard to believe, right?” Roth rubbed his palm along his jaw. “But free will. It’s a bitch.”

  “How is that free will, though?” I reasoned. “If Gabriel’s grace and his Glory is like an infection that corrupts people, how does free will come into play?”

  “Good question.” Zayne squeezed my shoulder. “That can’t be free will. It sounds like a violation of it.”