by C. L. Coffey
I wanted to ask what Lucifer would do with that strength, what he needed it for, but apparently that question went against what Michael had previously instructed me. Instead, I just nodded.
“Men can be so impressionable especially when they think they can gain power from their actions,” Paddy told me. “It has been hundreds of years since I’ve heard anything concerning the Plague of Snakes. I think that if they were to have tried anything, they would have done so long before now. Now, what chances do you think the Saints have at winning the Super Bowl this season? I have a soft spot for that team.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Legal Restrictions
Although it was reasonable a time for me to go to sleep, I didn’t feel tired, and I couldn’t get my brain to switch off. I was finally starting to convince myself that it really was the best option to get Joshua assigned a new guardian angel. I had wanted to bring it up with Michael after dinner, but he and the others had left together and I was still mad at the fact he wouldn’t listen to me about Lucifer.
I was lying on my back on my bed, my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling, when there was a soft rap at the door. I turned my head in the direction of the door but didn’t get up. “Hello?” I called.
The door opened and Veronica’s head popped round. “Good, you’re still awake,” she said.
I frowned and sat rested my weight on my elbows. Over the last six weeks I’d heard Veronica outside of my door but she had never been in my room, even now she was just poked her head around the door. “Is everything okay?” I asked her.
“Can I come in?” I nodded and she entered my room, closing the door softly behind her. “Is it true you banned Michael from your room?”
It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about, and then it dawned on me: I had. I flushed remembering the severity of my words. “I was mad,” I quickly explained. “I just want to be left alone.”
“Good,” she said.
“Good?” I repeated, confused.
She nodded. “Yes. I need to talk to you.” I stared expectantly at her, puzzled at her words. She didn’t explain further. Instead she approached my bed. I sat up and shuffled backwards against the headboard, as she perched on the end of the bed, folding her legs beneath her. “I believe you.”
“Believe me about what?” I asked her.
“The night Hurricane Tabatha hit New Orleans: you said Lilah released Lucifer. I believe you.”
My mouth fell open and I stared at her as my brain processed her words. “You believe me?”
She nodded. “I knew Lucifer. He always had the last word, he was stubborn - even more so than Michael - and whenever Michael would beat Lucifer at anything, Lucifer would always demand a rematch until he won.”
I continue to stare at Veronica. Her words left me feeling like an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was one thing to hear Joshua believed me, but he had been there. Veronica was the first angel to believe in me. I could have kissed her. “But no one else believes me.”
“Of course they don’t,” Veronica shrugged. She was trying to be nonchalant, but her gray eyes darkened again, and I could see a long rooted anger within her. “All of the archangels, though Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael in particular, have similar personalities. They are courageous, determined, and strong, but they are also stubborn, and set in their ways. Do you remember why the cherubim, are here on earth?”
I nodded. “You think a war is coming. You want to be as close as the front line as you can.”
“We have said for a very long time there will be another war, and humans will be stuck in the middle of it. I admit, I wasn’t expecting it to involve Lucifer, but this does not surprise me, or any of us,” Veronica agreed.
“Us?” I repeated. “Who else believes this?”
“The cherubim,” Veronica told me. “All of the cherubim. Not just the ones in Michael’s House, but in all of the Houses across the world. We are on your side.”
“I’m not asking anyone to choose sides,” I quickly told her.
“You don’t have to,” she shrugged. “I suppose, if anything, you’re on our side.”
“I don’t want to choose sides either,” I hurriedly added. I let out a long, deep breath and slumped back against the headboard. “I don’t want to cause arguments. I just want somebody to help me fix the mess I created before anybody else gets hurt.”
“Then let me help,” she suggested, her eyes sparkling.
"How?" I asked, dubiously. “Lucifer is out. How on earth do we get him back into hell?”
“We need to find him first of all,” Veronica shrugged again.
I chewed at my lip for a moment, and then realized that if she could believe me about Lucifer she would probably agree with my suspicions regarding Bee’s. “Lilah was looking for Potentials because she thought it would be easier to corrupt them. She thought she could convince them, more easily than it would be to convince an angel, that killing was the right thing to do, if it was to save someone,” I explained. “When I was helping Joshua, we ended up in a bar called Bee’s, just off Bourbon Street. Lilah was working in there. So were the Fallen who were helping her.”
“It looks like we’re going out then,” she told me with a grin. She looked me up and down examining my outfit, and scowled. “But we’re getting changed first.” She leaped off the bed and made her way to the door, looking back with a smile. “I’ll be back in fifteen,” she told me. “Oh, and Angel?”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you earned your wings.” She bounded out of the room.
I shuffled off the bed and opened my closet. Dressing for a bar was much easier than dressing for dinner with an archangel. I pulled on a pair of black fitted jeans, which I paired with a black ribbed halter-neck top, a pair of knee-high leather boots with a low heel, and finally, a dark denim jacket. I had just selected a pair of silver earrings, when there was a soft knock at the door. Veronica slipped in. With the exception of ballet flats, and a cord jacket, it was clear we had the same idea of what to wear: something which wouldn’t draw too much attention to either of us.
“Are you ready?” Veronica asked me. I nodded and followed her out of my room. I continued to follow her right to the opposite end of the corridor, where we used the back staircase to exit the building into the gardens. Veronica led me to a side gate that I didn’t know was there, and judging from the plants which were growing over it, it was safe to assume many others didn’t know of its existence either.
“Why do I feel like we’re sneaking out after curfew?” I asked, casting a glance over my shoulder at the convent behind us.
“Because we are?” Veronica suggested. “You may have picked up on the fact that Michael and I disagree over many things. He certainly wouldn’t approve of this. He wouldn’t approve of me doing this anyway, but the fact you’re involved will definitely annoy him.”
“Veronica? Is this going to get you in trouble?” I asked cautiously. I wanted her help, but I didn’t want her getting into trouble over it.
“Probably,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “On the other hand, if we prove Lucifer is back, I’ll probably get promoted out of the kitchen.”
I hadn’t considered it until we were actually on Bourbon Street, but it was a Wednesday night, and we were still a couple of weeks away from Halloween. It was much quieter than I was expecting, but it was the part of the month which dipped for tourists. As I led the way towards the quieter end of the street where Bee’s was, I had the sudden thought that the bar would be closed.
Thankfully, it wasn’t. Our problem was something I hadn’t considered at all. We walked right up to the main doors, and were about to take a step through into the bar, when an arm was lowered in front of me, blocking my way. “ID please,” a deep voice requested.
“Since when do you need ID to get in here?” I demanded, staring down at the surly bouncer.
He scowled back at me. “New policy. ID, please.”
<
br /> I had a fake ID. Somewhere. I’d paid a reasonable amount of money to a guy at college to provide me with it. The problem was that the last time I had seen it was the night I’d been murdered. I gave Veronica a helpless look, and then realized that as someone who looked even younger than I did, she wasn’t going to be able to help either.
“I don’t drink,” Veronica told the bouncer. Somehow, I refrained from laughing; I might as well have tried to convince him that I was twenty-one.
“No ID, no entry,” the bouncer said, looking as unimpressed as I felt.
I put my hand on Veronica’s elbow and took her back before she could argue with the bouncer. I knew a lost cause when I saw one. “What was that about?” she demanded, when we were a safe distance away.
“Veronica, you have to be twenty-one to drink in Louisiana,” I pointed out.
“I’m older than Louisiana!” she exclaimed in outrage.
“You barely look old enough to be in high school,” I told her. “Why on earth did you choose a vessel which looks like a sixteen-year-old?”
“I’ve had this vessel since I had a form, and there certainly weren’t any restrictions on the consumption of alcohol then,” she grumbled, shooting me an annoyed glare.
“Hang on,” I said, my eyes wide. “You’ve always looked like that?”
Veronica pulled a face. “Of course I have. What else would I have looked like?”
“Michael told me I would have to change my vessel,” I indicated to my body. “I have, perhaps only fifteen years before I would have to change my appearance,” I explained, trying to do my best impression of the archangel.
“Way back when…” Veronica quickly quietened as a small group walked past. She frowned. “We really shouldn’t have this conversation here.”
I glanced up spotting the balcony I had sat on earlier that afternoon. “Follow me.”
Qube didn’t have a bouncer on the front door. The only thing that had changed from earlier was that the rock music was now playing at a louder volume. It was just as empty as it had been before, and Ty was still working behind the bar. “Back so soon?” he asked me as I approached the counter. “Does this mean you’ll model for me?”
Veronica shot me a sideways stare but didn’t say anything. “I still haven’t decided,” I muttered. I ordered us a drink each, and did my best to appear unaffected as both Veronica and Ty kept staring at me. Finally the drinks were set in front of us and I snatched them up, hurrying up the stairs and out onto the deserted balcony.
“Who was that?” Veronica demanded, staring down at me with her arms folded, as I settled into the chair I had sat in earlier.
“Just some guy who works here,” I muttered in embarrassment.
“He’s cute,” Veronica stated, sitting down next to me. She stared out over the balcony, her eyes coming to rest on Bee’s; however, her attention was soon back on me, complete with a sparkle in her eye. “He clearly thinks you’re cute too. Modeling?”
“It’s not like that,” I hurried to explain as I felt my face heat up. “And it’s also not what we are here to discuss,” I said giving her a pointed look.
Veronica nodded and settled back into the metal chair. Suddenly she sat upright, leaned over to the chair next to her, and pulled it in front of her with a loud screech. She then settled back into her chair, and used the other one as a foot rest. “As I was saying, when the angels were created, there were enough of us that every human had a guardian angel.” I nodded. This I remembered. “Given our jobs, we couldn’t afford to wait for one of these humans to die in order to have a vessel. Also, given how few humans there were, we couldn’t really use one of them as we didn’t want to upset anyone. We were all provided with unique vessels.”
“And yours just happened to be that of a sixteen-year-old?” I couldn’t help but ask before I could stop myself. I bit my lip and I was unsure if I had offended my friend.
“Humans didn’t have the lifespan they have now,” Veronica explained completely unperturbed by my question. “Sixteen was practically middle-aged.” She frowned and stared back at Bee’s. “Until now it has never been a problem. Any suggestions?”
“I’d suggest fake IDs,” I offered. “Only, Michael made it very clear I was not allowed to contact any of my former friends and acquaintances. So unless you happen to know anybody?” I left the question hanging.
“No,” Veronica sighed.
“Okay, well, what would we have done if we could have gotten in?” I asked her, thoughtfully.
“I have no idea,” Veronica admitted. I stared at her in disbelief. She shifted uncomfortably. “I was hoping I would just recognize Lucifer.”
My mouth fell open. “You were hoping you would just recognize Lucifer?” I repeated in bewilderment. “That was your master plan?”
“Well, what were you going to do?” she demanded. “It’s not like you even know what Lucifer looked like. Even if he obviously isn’t going to look like that anymore.”
“I don’t know what Lucifer looks like, no, so what does it matter what I was going to do? You do,” I pointed out.
“I did know what he looked like. Millennia ago. And then he was killed,” she told me.
“I thought we were here because we both agreed that he hadn’t been killed?” I asked her.
Veronica pulled a face. “We agree that he has risen,” she corrected me. “He may have been banished to Hell, his soul may never have died, but his vessel didn’t go with him. And if you think that vessel has survived hundreds of thousands of years, well then, yes he would be recognizable. Absolute best case scenario, where for some insane, unknown, and completely absurd reason Lucifer decided to return to that vessel, I think he would be recognizable to everybody, because he would look like something straight out of a horror movie.”
I sagged a little. I hadn’t thought about this at all. My thoughts had been consumed with Joshua and Lilah – and by default, Paige – rather than how I was going to prove that Lucifer was back. I sighed. “Well what about the Fallen in general? How do you recognize them? There must be something?”
Veronica looked dubious. “The Fallen have black auras.”
My eyes lit up. “I can see auras!” I exclaimed happily.
“Which would be perfect if they were still in their original vessels,” Veronica sighed. “As angels we’re supposed to do everything we can to protect the humans, even if that means eliminating any supernatural threat against them. The Fallen are considered a threat. Archangels can, and will, eliminate all of the Fallen they encounter.”
I frowned. “I have no intention of killing anyone else,” I told her, pushing back a shudder.
Veronica shook her head. “That’s not the problem,” she told me. “Michael, Raphael, Cupid, and the rest of the archangels, have been hunting the Fallen since they fell. It’s not just the auras, it’s also the fact we know what their original vessels look like. If someone was trying to kill you and you had the ability to change what you look like, you would, wouldn’t you?”
I kept forgetting that all of the angels considered themselves to be brothers, sisters, and cousins. I was an only child. I had no concept of what it was like to have a sibling, but even I didn’t think I would be able to kill family. “Well, what about their auras? Black has to be a dead giveaway, surely?”
“Assuming they retain a smidgen of decency and use the body of a recently deceased human, then yes, it would be,” she agreed. “If it were me, I wouldn’t. A possessed human will retain their aura, and it will be bright enough to mask the black.”
“Mother monkey!” I growled, angrily.
“Mother monkey?” Veronica repeated before bursting into a fit of giggles.
“Apparently, since earning my wings, I have also lost the ability to swear,” I muttered dryly. “This is the closest I can use.” I finished off what was left of my drink, before setting the glass back down on the table.
“Well before you get too carried away, there's also the Nephilim.”
“You’ve mentioned them before, but neither you nor Cupid actually explained what they are,” I informed her.
Veronica’s gray eyes darkened, and she ran a hand nervously through her shaggy black hair. “They’re the greatest abomination,” she said in a low voice. “They are the offspring of an angel and a human. They retain their mortality and age like humans do, but they also gain the strength, speed, and intelligence of their angelic parent.”
“Abomination seems a little extreme,” I couldn’t help but tell her. “You can’t blame them for whom or what their parents are.”
“It might not be their fault, but they are what they are, and they are things that should never have walked this planet. Raphael insisted the archangels focus on the Fallen for now, probably because the Nephilim are not immortal, but eventually they’ll be conceived as a threat as well. Especially if they’ve been key in raising Lucifer,” Veronica explained.
I scowled and shook my head. “That’s grouping a race together and tarnishing them with the same brush, just because of who their parents are. Michael can dream on if he thinks I’m going to start killing innocent Nephilim!”
“Is everything okay out here?” I had been so focused on my conversation with Veronica that I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings, much less Ty’s appearance.
I looked over finding his warm eyes tinted with concern, and focused on me. “Just getting a little carried away, I guess,” I told him vaguely.
He came over to the table and collected my empty glass. “You want another one?” Ty asked me.
I nodded and waited until he disappeared before returning to our previous topic. “So what do we do now?” I asked Veronica.