Inward I waded, feeling the warm sand between my toes, the water sloshing up to my ankles. Waves broke around me as I stepped toward the endless horizon, toward the water, and soon it was up to my knees. My hips. My waist. My shoulders. My head.
When it completely engulfed me, the salt water made my eyes closed. There was, just as when I had arrived, a brief moment of quiet, of peace, of empty silence and gentle tranquillity.
And then I could hear the gentle murmur of traffic in the distance, the beeping of horns, and I was back in Jersey City, in Liberty State Park.
“Well?” asked Asmodeus, buzzing up to my face, his short tail lashing around behind him. “How did it go?”
“Let’s just say,” I said, grumpily, “that Seven Minutes in Heaven really oversells the idea of a short vacation in the place, you know?”
He laughed at that. “Just tell me,” he said. “I wanna know what it’s like up there.”
“Disappointing,” I said, taking a breath to steady myself. “Not nearly as good as the time Gabe and I—”
Asmodeus hissed and held up his hands protectively. “I know about the dick-sucking,” he said, sticking his forked tongue out. “Blech. Can’t you talk about something else?”
“I’m a succubus,” I said, as though that explained everything. Because it should. “Considering that, I talk about sex a lot less than you’d expect.”
“This is true, and I’m very grateful for it,” he said, slowly and cautiously lowering his hands. “Now. How about starting from the beginning and telling me all you can, yeah?” As though catching himself, he added, “and if you blew anyone, please skip that part.”
“Fine,” I said, and I started from the beginning.
Alone
Liberty State Park
New Jersey
I explained to Asmodeus what had happened. More precisely, what had not happened.
He didn’t look very happy, but neither did he look too disappointed, either. He took in what I said to him with remarkable calm and patience.
“Well,” he said at last, his tail flopping down against the ground, “I guess we’re fucked.”
“I guess so.” I closed my eyes a moment, taking a breath. “I’m sorry. I did my best.”
He hopped into the air, wings buzzing as he climbed up so he was looking me in the eye. “I know you did,” he said, with an air of genuineness. “Babe, look. It sucks for me because…well, I’m going to be fine. I’m going to go back to Hell after all of this no worse for wear. I’m probably going to snag myself a nice promotion, I’ll probably be able to claim your territory and all the mortals souls under your jurisdiction, and…well.” He grinned a little. “I’m an evil prick. I can’t say I’m not really looking forward to this. Hell, I might even be able to get some other neat perk, you know? Talk my way into something great. But you…” his face fell a little, grin evaporating. “I don’t think you’re getting out of this one alive, toots. And that’s a real shame.”
Yeah. No kidding. There was just no way I could see this ending. Either we fought Juliet until the end of time, or we managed to hide from her. But the more remote we got, the more she would be able to unleash herself fully. If we crippled her, disabled her, or permanently evaded her, the Nephilim Establishment would just send another. And another. And another.
Until we were all dead.
Resolve trickled into my heart. Not a lot. Just a little. I was realistic about our chances—that was to say, we were royally boned—but I knew enough to understand that whining and bitching and complaining about it wouldn’t solve anything. We needed to take action and do…something. Anything.
But first things first. “Where’s Gabe?” I asked, suddenly fearful that he had done something very stupid again and run off.
“He’s recovering,” said Asmodeus. “The mariliths beat him up pretty good.”
Snake-bodied, multi-armed demon women who guarded the gates of Hell. They were one of the few denizens of Hell, apart from the fearsome balors, who genuinely frightened me. “Sounds like he’s lucky to be alive,” I said.
“Yeah. Well. You know what they’re like. Turns out the word of an imp isn’t worth all that much in the scheme of things.” Asmodeus rubbed his little chin thoughtfully. “You know what the messed up thing is, though? I swear I did everything right. I said the right words, I barely even mentioned him at all and they just…attacked. You’d think mariliths would be more careful about that kind of thing. It’s almost as though they were told, in advance, not to let Gabe and I in.”
That made absolutely no sense to me. “I…” I really had no idea how to think about that so, in lieu of anything better to do, I just waved my hand. “Okay. Look. Point is, we need to head back to NJCU and plan our next move. I’m guessing your little pet still has to offer us her room?”
“You bet,” said Asmodeus. “Sugar, she is my toy to do with as I wish until she dies. That’s the deal.”
“What did she do, anyway?” I asked, curious.
“Well, she used to be the Devil’s Advocate about a year ago,” said Asmodeus, waving his hand as though this was all terribly boring. “Until she took an arrow to the knee. Or something. I don’t really know what the details were, but she was some kind of mortal who had a special, privileged position in the great harp-place, got the boot from heaven and wants back in. Turns out she was stupidly desperate for this to happen. Desperate enough to pledge her mortal life to me in exchange for a good word in her favour in the pit.” Asmodeus tapped the side of his head. “I wasn’t just relying on your cute little arse at that party, you know. I had a backup plan.”
Comforting to know. And it was something the construct in Heaven had mentioned. Now I knew who the Devil’s Advocate was…or at least, had been. “Do you think she can help us?” I asked. “Beyond, like, giving us access to her dorm room?”
He shrugged. “She’s a stupid mortal,” he said. “Think about how shitty your adventures have been. Now imagine you had to sleep, eat, shit. Imagine you had no money and had to try and survive here with none of your special powers, and the memories of how good life used to be.”
True enough. As much as I didn’t want to feel sympathy for someone like that, I was also glad that she was around. I wasn’t sure why yet, but Kuparr had made a point of mentioning the position—what was it, the Advocatus Diaboli?—and he had also made a point of saying that everything he was doing was for my own benefit and enjoyment.
And if I enjoyed anything, it was a continued existence and to get out of this terrible situation I’d found myself in.
“Okay,” I said, stretching my arms. “Let’s go find feather-brain and see what he’s come up with.”
Fallen from Grace
Frost Hall
New Jersey City University
New Jersey
Asmodeus crawled back into my hoodie and, without incident, we made our way back to the NJCU campus, and back to Frost Wing.
Back in the pit my home had been much more lavish, as befitted one of my station, not that I would spend very much time there at all. It was a golden, splendid, opulent manor house in the brimstone lakes, full of simpering mortal servants and the finer things in life. Nice tea, for instance.
But there was something…appealing about the mortal realm. Not the constant threat of danger and being hunted by nephilim, of course, but something else. The raw potential of it. The ability for me to go anywhere, do anything, and still have my powers.
I wasn’t a God, and I couldn’t plane shift anymore, but…it was better to be a small fish in a small pond, right?
Yeah. I knew I was just trying to justify a really shitty thing that was happening to me, but eh. I didn’t feel too guilty about doing that. I’d earned a little delusion.
Asmodeus and I rode the elevator to Laila’s room in grumpy, sullen silence. Finally we came to room 3474 again. A crummy little dorm room at a stereotypical American university. I stared at the boring, plain wooden door. Was living in this room going to
be my life, now? Just constantly pretending to be a university student, taking on a new identity every few years to avoid suspicion? Until…what, exactly?
Didn’t matter. Worries for another day.
“Ladies last,” said Asmodeus, rapping his tiny knuckles on the door.
“Age before beauty,” I answered back.
The latch unlocked. Laila’s gloomy face appeared and she opened the door a crack to let Asmodeus zip inside, closed, then opened again.
When it did so, the room beyond was not the one I had expected: Laila’s room. It was an expensive looking balcony with a view over a mountain glacier. Cold wind rushed out, nipping at my exposed hands and face. Snow fell all over the ground.
This was…odd. Unsure of what to do, but feeling compelled to enter, I stepped through out onto the balcony, and as I did so, behind me, the college dorm room had vanished, replaced with an alpine skiing resort, or rich man’s private retreat.
There was nothing on the balcony. Only ice and sleet and a frigid view of a mountain glacier. I opened the door I’d just come through and went back through it.
Warmth. Through the door was a wide, high ceilinged ski retreat, complete with leather couches, bottles of wine in chillers, and beast heads mounted on the walls. A crackling fireplace full of hot coals burned at the far end of the room, and sitting in a wide, expensive leather chair, was a very old man with a frail frame, so thin he might very well sink into a crack in the couch and disappear.
And his eyes. So intelligent they practically sparkled with life. A halo of light shone around his head, and little feathered wings were folded behind his back, almost as though they were some kind of second cushion.
He smiled at me as I entered, seeming to be expecting me. “Good evening.” His voice was quiet but strong, an iron gauntlet wrapped in velvet, gentle but belying great, unfathomable power such that I could not understand it even if I had a billion years to try. “Do you know who I am?”
A chill ran down my whole body that wasn’t from the cold air outside. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention and I realised, with a growing realisation, who this man might be.
“Are…are you the Maker?”
He steepled his fingers, leaning forward slightly, left eyebrow raising slightly. “Do you think if I had the power to make Heaven and Earth, I would lower myself to mere conversation?”
And then it hit me, with all the force of a collapsing star. He wasn’t God.
He was the other guy.
I fell down to my knees, lowering my gaze and keeping it firmly on the floor. “I am your eternal servant,” I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could even stop myself. “I would never try to usurp you. I don’t know why I did. I have no memory of…of anything that happened, of anything I did. I can only beg humbly for your forgiveness, for the forgiveness of everything I’ve done here, and I…I am sorry.”
Lucifer said nothing for a time. I kept my head down, my eyes down, only looking up when the silence became intolerable. He was staring at me, gently and without anger. “I know you believe that.”
“I do,” I said, trying to cram as much genuineness and firmness and sincerity into my voice as humanly possible. “I do believe it.”
More quiet. More waiting.
“Do you think,” began Lucifer slowly, deliberately. “That I am accustomed to events not transpiring exactly how I predict them to go?”
“No, Lord,” I said. And it was true. Lucifer made plans and they almost always transpired.
“Do you think that, perhaps, I might have anticipated one of my most loyal and ambitious servants turning against me…” a strange edge came into his voice. “And that others might also have anticipated this? That they might not support a rebellion openly, but if a strong leader, a powerful leader, a beloved leader suddenly appeared and had the strength and power to seize the throne, they might follow?”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “My Lord?” I asked.
He drummed his fingers together. “I shall simplify,” he said. “Do you think you would make a good leader of Hell?”
It was such a weird, unexpected question that I had no answer for a time. “You are the unquestioned leader of the pit,” I said, insistently. “I would never, ever, ever, ever, ever question that. Ever.”
“I know,” said Lucifer, a strange smile on his face. “Which is why I asked you to do it.”
The Literal, Actual Devil
Lucifer’s Mountaintop Retreat
Location unknown
That just made absolutely no sense at all to me.
“Your…pardon, My Lord?” I asked, staring at him like a stupid dumb idiot. “I thought you just said…”
“I asked you to try to kill me,” said Lucifer, a strange smile on his face. “But, of course, I made sure to ask you to fail. They call me the Prince of Lies, not the Prince of Stupid Failures Who Were Usurped By Their Minions.”
I struggled to make the pieces fit together in my head. “So…you commanded me to try and take over Hell, and fail? And you knew I would do it because you knew I was your loyal servant?” I understood this much. “But…why? I’m only a minor demon, nothing special at all.”
“Because of Damien,” said Lucifer, simply. “Or more correctly, his parents and what they represented. I knew you hated what he represented; someone who preys on people but is not a hunter. There is no thrill in what someone like he does, no honour. He does not seduce. He poisons. You hated that. At first I thought it was a weakness, but when I needed him dead…I finally saw the potential in you.”
“You knew I would kill him,” I said, the realisation dawning on me like the flash of dawn. “You orchestrated the whole thing. Me being kicked out of Hell. Being sent me to that party because you knew I would kill him without being instructed to.”
“Correct,” he said, a cold smile growing over his face. “I even weakened the succubus Jessica at a critical moment, so Gabriel could kill her, so there was absolutely no-one else who could be reasonably sent.” He slowly traced a digit down the length of the armrest on his chair. “You simply must understand, my dear. I could not interfere directly. I could not even order you to do this; he was too high profile. Damien was beyond even my reach. But if one of my agents, of their own free will, killed him of their own volition…then I get what I want. And you performed admirably.”
Lucifer had planned the whole thing. “I am pleased to have served,” I said, hope growing in my chest. “I do not claim to understand your mind today, but with time, I’m sure I will come to see the wisdom in your actions.”
“Very good,” he said, sliding his frail body out of the chair with a strength and power that belied its seemingly frail presentation. “Come, my little pet. Let us resume your position in the pit.” He paused, as though a delightful thought had just jumped into his head. “No. Such a position is too lowly for you. Let us have you return…as my right hand.”
The right hand of Hell. An unimaginably coveted position. Like being the Vice President of the entire world. I nearly choked, and my gag reflex was pretty damn good. “M-My Lord,” I stammered, genuinely forgetting how to use words. “I feel…I think…”
“There is only one word you need to say,” he said, gently gliding over to me, an inch off the ground, resting his thin hand on the top of my head. “Just tell me that you are willing, and together, we shall do great things.”
Yes. That was all I needed to say. That was all I should say. There was nothing else. No other thought pumping though my mind, no other desire that I wanted more than this.
Yet I could not say it.
“What…of the angel, Gabriel?” I asked, cautiously.
Lucifer inclined his head in a motion so subtle it was barely there. “What of him?”
This was a question I knew I should not be asking but I did it anyway. “What shall become of him, My Lord?”
“I imagine,” said Lucifer, matter-of-factually, “that the nephilim you know as Juliet
will eventually find him and destroy him. That or he will live in exile, looking over his back forever, and never know peace. Either way, his fate of no consequence to us.” The thin smile on his face grew. “I actually consider it a little bonus, my most faithful servant. The cherry on this most delicious sundae. Knowing a powerful angel has been removed from the celestial equation is…gratifying.”
It was to me, as well. Or it should have been. Rather, however, I felt a terrible pain in my heart. I didn’t want Gabriel to be a celestial vagabond, roaming the world in hiding, always looking over his back for a knife.
Stupid demon, I thought to myself. You’ve caught feelings for this feather-brain and it’s messing up your brain. He likes you because you’re a succubus, and you’re designed to, programmed to, get men to fall for you. He was a tool to you, nothing more.
I knew this. I told myself this.
Then why did I not believe it?
“Is…there any way we can bring him into the fold, My Lord?” I asked, trying to keep the hope—or desperation—out of my voice. “He is a powerful warrior, easily the equal of a nephilim like Juliet. He could be a powerful asset to us, if he were to swear himself to the pit…”
Slowly, Lucifer stroked over the top of my head, gently rubbing his fingers against my scalp. “Has he shown any indication at all that this is something he would desire?”
Try as I might, I could not summon a single firm example. As much as he was into me, and he clearly was, he was loyal to Heaven too. He was genuinely good and could not be tempted away from the path set out before him.
“I want to hear you say it,” said Lucifer, gently but unrelentingly. “I will have your answer.”
“No, My Lord.”
He seemed to understand. “Then what you want is impossible,” he said.
“It is, My Lord.”
20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection Page 122