New York

by Tiffany Aaron

  The look Lucifer shot Christian pierced his heart. He pressed his hand to his chest, trying to protect the wounded organ. This was the Lucifer he remembered. The one who felt things too deeply and cared too much about everything around him. That person had disappeared the instant he’d been banished from Heaven. He’d turned into the cynical, uncaring creature most of the fallen and mortals knew.

  “Why? Please, you owe me that much, Daystar. Why did you rebel?”

  “It was what he wanted,” Lucifer spoke so softly, Christian almost didn’t hear him.

  “What who wanted?”

  Christian started to reach out to touch his friend, but Lucifer cursed and shifted out of range before Christian could lay a hand on him.

  “It’s not important, and we need to get this done before the rest of your friends show up to try and stop me.” Lucifer grabbed Christian’s hand and figuratively pulled with his power, taking Christian’s.

  But where Christian thought it would be the most agonizing experience in his life, aside from losing his wings, there wasn’t any pain. His vision went black, then there was nothing.

  Lucifer sucked his breath as Christian’s power swirled around inside him for a few seconds before he could corral it. He managed to gather it and wall it away in the small part of his own soul that he had left. Closing his eyes, he refused to fall to his knees in misery for the loss of his friend, even though they hadn’t been friends for millennia.

  When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, he stared at the spot where Christian had stood, absently thinking that there should be a marker or something to show where one fallen angel foolishly had given up his entire existence to save one mortal, but there was nothing to show that Christian had chosen love over duty.

  Running his hand over his hair, Lucifer sighed, tired to his bones. What was it about Christian, Celeste and William that made them believe in love so much that they were willing to give up any chance at returning to heaven for the mere thought of the emotion? He’d never met any mortal or angel special enough to distract him from his appointed task.

  Unlike the fallen he supposedly ruled, there would never be a chance of going back home for him. He’d known the possible outcome when he’d chosen to rebel, and he couldn’t whine now about the path he’d taken.

  An electrical surge racing through his body warned him that the others were converging on his position. It was time to make himself scarce, yet he discovered he couldn’t leave like he’d wanted. Something—or someone—was keeping him there.

  When they arrived at the empty rooftop seconds later, Celeste searched for any sign of Christian and Lucifer. Mika’il knew what had happened the moment Christian ceased to exist. He’d felt his friend’s absence in his heart like a knife.

  “Fuck! We’re too late.” Celeste looked at Mika’il. “Lucifer took Christian’s soul. What the hell do we do now?”

  “We pray.” Mika’il shuddered as he thought about how powerful Lucifer was now, with Christian’s power mingling with his own.

  “Seriously? Do you think praying is going to get us out of this mess?”

  He glared at her. “I don’t know, Celeste. This has never happened before. I have no instructions on what to do if Lucifer were to have this much power.”

  “You could go and kill him. You can’t allow him to wander around earth like a god.” Celeste shoved her hands through her hair in frustration.

  It was Mika’il’s turn to show his annoyance. “I’ll get right on that because I always go off on my own without any orders from the Father. I’m not a renegade angel to take justice into his own hands.”

  Celeste stared at him, and he could see the anger mingled with fear in her eyes. They were the same emotions rushing through him at break neck speed. This was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to happen, yet it had, and they were reeling trying to find an answer to the problem.

  “Guys, you seem to have forgotten something.”

  They both turned to look at William, who stood nearest to the edge of the roof. He frowned, but Mika’il couldn’t see what was bothering William.

  “What did we miss?” Celeste asked.

  “If the Father didn’t want this to happen, he could’ve stopped it at any point. He could’ve told Mika’il to get rid of Christian, or he could’ve done something to insure that Christian and Joan never met.” William paced the length of the roof, hands clasped behind his back as he walked.

  “Are you saying that He wanted this to happen?” Mika’il growled. He didn’t like the idea that God might have allowed Lucifer to take Christian’s soul for some unknown reason.

  “It’s the only way it could work,” William murmured, continuing to stroll along while he thought out loud. “He is all powerful and all knowing. He must have a reason why this should happen.”

  “And we aren’t supposed to know or question his motives. We accept what he tells us to do, and keep the faith that it’ll all work out in the end.” Bitterness colored Celeste’s words.

  Mika’il wished he could give voice to the doubt he felt about what had happened in the last couple of weeks, but he couldn’t. As an archangel, he had to present a stoic front to the fallen, even if he wanted to cry his anger and anguish out to God. Would the Father hear him or answer him if he asked?

  A warm breeze teased his hair, and Mika’il saw Celeste and William react to the wind as well. He lifted his chin, absorbing the way it traced his jaw and the slope of his nose. Then it seemed like it surrounded him in a tight hug. Mika’il relaxed, letting his worries go as he breathed out.

  God was there, and he was good. Mika’il didn’t need to know why things happened the way they did. He only had to accept that God was all-powerful and all-knowing, and that because he saw the beginning and end of time, he knew what purpose this whole situation served.

  “All right. We can’t do anything about what’s happened, but we need to take care of Joan. She’s going to feel abandoned and guilty, and we’re going to have to help her work through this without climbing back into the bottle.” Mika’il gestured toward the stairwell leading down to Christian’s apartment.

  Celeste and William sighed, but neither argued. They had to be missing their loved ones, but Mika’il couldn’t stay with Joan. He had to keep track of Lucifer, to see if the fallen was taking advantage of his new powers to sow discord amongst the humans.

  “Take turns if you want, or call up Danielle to come and help out. I have to go and see where Lucifer is right now.” Mika’il started to focus his thoughts on Lucifer.

  William went to stand next to Celeste, but before any of them could leave, Lucifer appeared on the roof before them. Smiling, he watched them tense as he stepped off the edge to walk closer to them.

  “You were looking for me?” Lucifer looked at Mika’il, and winked.

  Mika’il gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t let the fallen bait him. Mostly because Lucifer always seemed to enjoy it when he got Mika’il worked up.

  “I was, actually. I wanted to make sure you weren’t suffering any ill effects from the infusion of power you received after taking Christian’s.”

  He wanted to wipe off the smirk marring Lucifer’s face. Even with the cross burnt into his left cheek, Lucifer was the most beautiful creature Mika’il had ever seen. Yet it was a shattered beauty that made Mika’il want to weep every time he saw him.

  Lucifer held his arms out to the sides. “You can check, my friend, but trust me, I’m doing fine. And please don’t worry about your dear mortals. I have no plans on harming them.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “Tonight anyway.”

  Mika’il realized that was the only concession he was going to receive from Lucifer. He studied the most powerful fallen on earth, and he noticed, hidden amongst the arrogance and pride in Lucifer’s eyes, there was a hint of sadness as well.

  He’d never imagined Lucifer would feel sad about what he’d done to Christian. Yet in a way, Mika’il shouldn’t have been shocked by that emotion either be
cause at one time, Lucifer and Christian had been close friends—almost as close as Mika’il and Lucifer had been. While he might not care about any of the other fallen he’d led astray, Lucifer had cared about Christian.

  “He was my friend at one time as well, Mika’il. No matter how we felt about each other now, I always carry the memory of what we once were to each other. Just as I carry the memory of our friendship.” Lucifer bowed his head in Mika’il’s direction.

  “If you honored your friendship with Christian, why did you take him up on his offer? Why didn’t you walk away?” Celeste spoke up, unable to continue listening to Lucifer’s bullshit.

  The pitying look Lucifer shot Celeste annoyed Mika’il for some reason. The person who deserved pity was Lucifer because he’d lost all hope of ever returning to Heaven. At least Celeste would be going home when she died because of her love for Adam. Mika’il opened his mouth, ready to berate Lucifer when the fallen shook his head.

  “It doesn’t work that way, Celeste. I know you have no experience with bargaining with the devil, but trust me, once a deal is set, no one can renege on it.” Lucifer sighed, and the pain in that sound caused Mika’il to blink. “No matter how much one might wish they could.”

  “But you’re the one who made the rules,” William pointed out.

  Lucifer chuckled. “Where did you get that foolish idea? I set no rules or agendas. It wasn’t any of my doing.”

  After whirling around, Lucifer dashed to the edge of the building, but before he jumped, he turned to look at them. “Don’t worry about Joan. Something tells me she’ll be all right, and she’ll find her love again.”

  He leaped to the top of the brick wall forming the edge of the roof. Spreading his arms wide, Lucifer stared up into the dark night sky, and Mika’il was reminded of another holy being who’d assumed that position to save mortals. Then Lucifer stepped off and disappeared into thin air with a small hiss to mark his passing.

  William looked at Celeste and him. “What did he mean, Joan’ll find her love again?”

  Mika’il shrugged as he mentally acknowledged a silent order to leave as it passed through his mind. “I don’t know. I try very hard not to get caught up in Lucifer’s riddles. I have to go. Something is happening in Los Angeles that needs my attention. Keep an eye on Joan for a couple of days. If it looks like she’s handling this all right, then you have my permission to return to your homes.”

  He turned, allowing himself a little bit of whining about having to go so quickly. He’d like to have stayed to chat with Celeste and William when there wasn’t some kind of mortal-threatening problem happening. Mika’il didn’t have many friends, considering he spent a great deal of his time with mortals and the fallen—far more time than he spent with the other angels and heavenly creatures.

  As he left, Mika’il sent a prayer to the Father that Joan would be able to stay strong, and that she’d be able to love again after losing Christian that day.

  “Trust me, Mika’il.”

  “I do, my Lord. In all things, but sometimes even I can’t see the good in something like this,” he admitted.

  “You don’t have to, because I can, and that’s the most important thing.”

  He bowed to God’s admonishment, then turned his thoughts to Los Angeles and the next situation he had to deal with. One involving Cassandra, and a certain transplanted Chicago homicide detective. This one could be interesting, he thought as he allowed his power to overtake him.

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s time.”

  Christian glanced over to where Lucifer stood, hands on hips and a slight smile on his face. After standing, Christian strolled over and studied him.

  “Time for what?”

  “For you to go back,” Lucifer informed him.

  Christian couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “Go back? But I gave up my power and my soul for Joan. There’s no going back from that.”

  “Usually there isn’t, but you and Joan aren’t the usual couple. I’m sending you back, but there is a catch.”

  “There’s always a catch with you, Lucifer, but if you send me back, I’ll forgive you everything that you’ve ever done to me.” Christian wanted to see Joan again so badly. The entire time he’d been wherever Lucifer had sent him, all he’d been able to think about was Joan.

  “You won’t remember what happened to you. You’ll think you went out to Los Angeles on orders from Mika’il, and that you’ve only been gone for a week.” Lucifer shifted from foot to foot, obviously wanting to get on with the whole thing.

  “Will I have my power back?”

  Lucifer nodded. “Of course you will. I don’t need it, no matter what the hell I tell people.”

  Christian reached out to take Lucifer’s hand, but the fallen stepped away so that Christian couldn’t touch him.

  “Thank you, Lucifer. I wish things were different between us and we could go back to being friends.”

  “Maybe someday God will forgive us both,” Lucifer murmured as he pressed his fingertip to Christian’s forehead.

  * * * *

  Joan bent over, placing her hands on her knees while trying to catch her breath. She worked on not collapsing as her heart rate slowed down. It was a nice warm, mild day in October, and she’d taken advantage of the weather to go for a run in Central Park.

  As she walked around in a small circle across from the park entrance closest to her apartment building, a striking man standing about five feet from her caught her attention. In many ways, he reminded her of Christian, but she knew he was gone. The man she’d loved had given up his soul to keep her from the devil, and his sacrifice had convinced Joan she’d been right to love him.

  The man noticed her staring, and she quickly dropped her gaze to the ground in front of her. Yet she sensed he was approaching her. When a pair of highly polished Italian leather dress shoes came into her line of vision, she grimaced, then raised her head to meet his dark stare. There was something so familiar about him, like she’d known him a long time ago.

  Intense black eyes studied her, almost seeming to cut right to her soul. Joan gasped when he reached out to caress her cheek. Jerking away from the stranger, she glared.

  His smile softened his sculpted beauty into something more human. She wondered at the cross-shaped scar on his left cheek. Where would such a man as seemingly sophisticated as this one get a wound like that?

  “He loved you so much, Joan, and I can see why. Even after all you’ve gone through, your soul is still pure.” His voice sounded like the ringing of the bells at St. Patrick’s cathedral in New York City.

  Yet tears welled in Joan’s eyes because there was such terrible sadness running as undercurrents in the music of his voice. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, bring him close to her heart, and tell him that whatever made him so sad would ease in time.

  As if he were reading her mind, he laughed softly. “I’m sorry, my dear. There will be no easing of my pain, but I didn’t come here for that. I think you’ve been alone long enough. Your future will start tonight, and I promise it’ll be far brighter than your past.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, the man disappeared. Joan blinked before looking around to see if she could find him in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be found. How in the world can any mortal man move that fast?

  Just as she finished thinking that, another thought jumped into her head. Maybe he wasn’t mortal. He knew about Christian, and he looked familiar, like someone I knew a long time ago.

  Taking a deep breath, Joan let the encounter settled into her, and tried not to freak out. There was a lingering scent of cinnamon, and she knew it hadn’t come from her. Nothing had happened, except that he’d touched her. She pressed her fingers to the exact spot where the stranger’s had rested, imagining she still felt his touch.

  She shook off any worries or fears, not having time to deal with it. She needed to get home and showered before leaving to meet Lisa for dinner and a night on the town. It was the f
irst time she was going out since that night. Joan found she was excited about it, knowing Christian wouldn’t have wanted her to become a hermit and mourn him the rest of her life.

  Joan would celebrate the life he died to give her, and she’d raise a glass of sparkling water in his memory tonight.

  * * * *

  “May I buy you a water?”

  The minute the man’s voice spoke those words, Joan whirled around. She gasped when she saw Christian standing there, just as gorgeous as he’d been the day they’d met. Joan flung herself into his arms as he grinned at her.

  “Oh, my God! Christian, how are you here?” She pressed her lips to his ear to be heard over the music.

  “Where else would I be? I’m sorry I didn’t call to let you know I’d be home tonight, but it took a little while longer for me to finish the job.” He leaned down to brush a kiss over her cheek.

  “A job?”

  Was he serious? What job? Lucifer had taken his soul, and he’d died. Celeste and William hadn’t been able to tell Joan where Christian had gone, but they had said he was gone, never to return. Yet here he stood.

  “Yes. Mika’il needed me to go to Los Angeles to check on a mutual friend.” He pulled her close to nuzzle her jaw.

  “Do you know what you are?” She couldn’t believe that Christian was there.

  Christian pulled away from her to meet her gaze as he frowned. “What I am? Do you want to discuss that while we’re standing here in the middle of a club?”

  She shook her head. “How about we head home? I’d like to say hello properly.”

  Not wanting to get caught into a conversation with Lisa and her other friends, she pulled out her phone to send Lisa a quick text. After tucking it back into her clutch, she slid her arm through Christian’s and smiled at him.

  “Let’s go home,” she said.

  He led her from the club then flagged down a cab to take them back, not to her house but to his. Joan didn’t know what to say. She was stunned that Christian was sitting next to her in the vehicle, and she kept her fingers entwined with his, afraid that if she let go, he’d disappear on her.