He gave me a look that said, “Well…?” without a word.
“Bastian, Wren is bi,” Lincoln said.
“Possibly pan,” I added.
“Oh, you are?” His eyebrows went up. “Oh. You are.”
“The problem is not sexual orientation here.” Fischer leaned his head on my shoulder. “That’s not a barrier. The hurdle here is that we—Wren, Lincoln, and I—haven’t really gotten along with Paige that well. She’s screwed up some things along the way and it’s been hard to put them behind us.”
Nodding, I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “It has. But…maybe we can try a little harder. She hasn’t had an easy life, and we don’t need to make it any more difficult. Look what she’s been up against all this time. That dickbag of a husband has probably been abusing her for years, and she still manages to smile and save the kids as much as she can.”
“I don’t disagree with you, love,” Fischer said. “Not even a little. It’s just going to take me a bit, and she’s going to have to earn my trust back. After Ben.”
I nodded, and Bastian had a look on his face that showed some sort of concern or confusion. Lincoln caught it too, and pulled him in for a quick kiss.
“What are you thinking?”
“Well…if you don’t have trouble with her gender, is it just perfunctory interaction?”
“Has anything we’ve done here felt perfunctory to you, Bas?” I asked quietly. “Did it feel wrong at any time? Shallow?”
“No, not for a moment. Not even when it’s just horniness driving us.” He grinned.
“Then it would never be with her,” I answered. “I love all three of you, and if I drag her into this harem, then I’ll love her too.”
“Just like that?”
“No. You guys know that I’m not about the fuck and flee. Come on. Even if I wanted to you all kind of pile on in here.” I giggled. “But honestly, if she’s only ever a friend in this, then fine. Because I’m not the only one who has to worry about sexual preference. As far as I know, Paige is straight. She may never get beyond a platonic relationship, and may never want to.”
“Will that be enough…to…” Lincoln fluttered his hand in the air. “Do this thing? Whatever the hell it is we’re doing?”
“I guess we’re going to find out,” Fischer answered.
“But, guys.” I looked at each of them. “Say nothing to her. Zero. Let me handle this. If I need your help with her, I’ll absolutely drag you in. But for now…just trust me to do this?”
“Of course, babe,” Lincoln said, and kissed me softly.
The kiss didn’t stay soft for very long.
I pushed the door to the After open and stepped through. It was always so warm here, but never uncomfortable. There was a soft orange red hue to the light which made it feel welcoming.
This was my first time visiting the after without Lily. Every other time I had come here, she’d guided me, even though she had said I didn’t need her or anyone’s permission to visit. Until now, it hadn’t felt right.
The stronghold rose up on the right, and I headed for the doorway that I had a key for. It wasn’t the main entrance, but Lily and Luce had said that it was the one they used the most.
It led into a cozy, stone and tile kitchen, with a fire burning merrily in the hearth. There was a worn and roughhewn table at the one end, welcoming, with a small vase containing a bouquet of daisies.
On the far wall, before the hall that led into the rest of the stronghold, were a series of pulls for the bells that rang around the living quarters. I pulled the one that said Master, and walked over to the refrigerator.
A real, working, electric refrigerator. In Hell.
And stocked with water, beer, wine, and some nice fruits.
I chose a bottle of water and sat at the table to wait. I knew that my brother wasn’t expecting me, but he would be happy to see me.
This was damn weird.
I sipped and glanced around, wondering if anything here might have a chance to trip my memory. I wasn’t trying to get my brain to spill the beans, but if it happened…it would be helpful.
The room, though, looked like something Lily had decorated. Even though the stonework was huge and ancient, she had managed to put her signature of simplicity and light color on everything.
It was possible to cook in the hearth, but there was also a gas stove. Cast iron pots and pans hung in different spots, along with utensils and baking gear. There was a bread oven next to the hearth, and two beautiful wall ovens.
It was a comforting and well done blend of ancient and modern. I could see Lily cooking breakfast here for my brother.
“How can I help you?”
The voice came from behind me instead of from the hall I had been expecting it—and it wasn’t the voice I was expecting.
I turned to see who had answered, and froze.
He also froze, staring at me.
“Vance?” I finally managed to whisper.
“Oh, God, Wren,” he breathed. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” I stood and turned to face him. “Me? What the fuck are you doing here? Do you know that Lincoln has been looking everywhere for you? You crushed him! He thought of you as a brother!”
“I…I had to go. I had failed at…” He cleared his throat.
“Failed at what, Vance? Why are you here?”
He glanced at the water I had on the table and back to me. “Failed at the task I had been extorted into. Failed to keep you and Lincoln apart. They said they…”
“Someone bribed you to keep me and Linc apart? What the hell, Vance? Why didn’t you just tell us that after we got together.”
“I couldn’t, Wren. I had to leave, disappear. If I didn’t they would have come and killed me. They would have come for…”
“For who, Vance?” I took a step toward him.
“For you, for Lincoln, for Fischer, for…” He swallowed and stared at me. “For Ellie. Everything I did and lied about and put up with was for her. I stayed away, so they didn’t know exactly who she was—”
The truth slammed into me. “Elutheria is your daughter.”
He nodded once. “They were going to find her and kill her. But with you…she’s safe. More safe than I could ever, ever keep her unless I locked her away.” He grabbed my arm. “Please, Wren, don’t tell her. Don’t tell Lincoln. Not yet. Not until I can find the bastards who threatened me, her and you, and take care of them.”
“You’re hiding here?”
“Lord Morningstar welcomed me.” He shrugged. “I agreed to help him run the tiny household this giant building holds.”
I grabbed the bottle of water off the table and took a huge swig. “Damn. There is so much going on I don’t know how I can keep up with it.” Letting out a sigh, I finally assented. “I won’t tell Ellie, but you can’t keep this from her. She will want to know you.”
“I want to know her, but when it’s safe. She’s in good hands with you.”
“She’s versilange.”
Vance laughed. “Of course, she is. I’m a demon, that’s what happens to most half-demons. Guardian is another position, but she has Ben to watch, so versilange it is.”
Scrubbing my hands down my face, I sat back at the table. “So where is Lucifer?”
“In the Fields.” He pulled the fridge open and picked a beer. “He’s been there for a few hours. Pure and Sam had some problems, and they couldn’t figure out alone. It seems that some dark demons found a hole in the rocks and climbed through to disrupt the Fields.”
“The…Fields? The Elysian Fields?”
“Yes?”
Shaking my head, I sighed. “Still getting used to this. Who are Pure and Sam?”
“Puriel and Samkael. The angels in charge of Elysium. Well, temporarily in charge. I think. They’ve been there so long that I’m not sure…”
“Why wouldn’t they be able to handle what’s going on in there?”
“Because they aren’t really the Gu
ardian Angels assigned to the Fields?”
Laughing, I dropped my chin to my chest. “Vance, I know nothing about what’s going on. Or, I don’t remember it. Whatever. Something happened centuries ago, and I’ve been wandering the world ever since. No clue of who I really am.”
“Oh,” he said. “So, you’re not a demon?”
“No…”
“They told me you were a demon and you couldn’t ever be with Lincoln. The consequences of the two of you getting together would be catastrophic.”
“Nope. Not a demon.”
“Then…” He looked confused for a moment, then resigned. “Of course, they lied to me. What the hell did I expect from the Tartarians?”
“From what I understand, they lie like rugs.” I snickered, and watched Vance nearly do a spit-take with his beer.
It took him a moment to regain his composure, but took a moment to toast me. “That is the truest thing I’ve heard in a long time. So, if you’re not a demon, what are you?”
A deep, resonant voice came from the door I had passed through earlier. “She is Temperance Littlestar. Quilikrozh.”
He was on his knee in a heartbeat and looking up at me like he had committed an egregious sin that could never be forgiven. “My Lady, I had no idea.”
“Oh, stand up, Vance. I don’t know why everyone keeps doing that. I don’t stand on protocol I don’t know the cause of. Just get up.”
He stood, but wary. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I answered. “Luce, tell him to get up.”
“Stand up, Vance. I don’t require obeisance, neither does she.” Lucifer walked further into the room and closed the door behind himself. “Not in my own home, not after having to pull all kinds of shit to get the Fields mostly to rights again.”
I watched as my brother walked to the fridge, pulled out a beer, flicked off the cap effortlessly and took a long, hard pull on the bottle.
“Can you even get drunk?” I asked.
He laughed, spluttering. “No, I can’t. But having a beer makes me feel like I’m rewarding myself after a long day of work. Which basically…yes.”
Chuckling, I sat back down at the table. “You just…are so normal.”
Lucifer laughed as well, sitting with me, and motioning Vance to the table. “I spent all morning in my terrible glory trying to help Pure and Sam fix the hole and get the demons back in. I need to feel normal.”
“Isn’t terrible glory normal?”
“No. Well, not anymore. Hasn’t been for at least a millennium. It’s been toning down for that long again until you see…” He swept his hand down himself. “This is what’s comfortable to me right now.”
A light ruddy hue to his skin, black-black hair, just a hint of horns, black eyes to match his hair, black slacks and white button down. Deck shoes.
The Devil wore deck shoes.
“Did you get everything sorted?” Vance asked while I was still staring at my brother’s shoes.
“Finally.” His voice sounded exhausted. “I need the others back. I need them. Nas, Io, Riel. Pure and Sam are just not equipped for this, and I can’t keep things going here if I keep having to help them in the Fields.”
“What happens when you have to go?” I asked.
“The sorting of souls grinds to a halt,” Lucifer said. “Some are self-sorting—a child who has died in an accident doesn’t even need to pass the throne. They go straight to the Fields. Someone who brutally murdered the whole family and the dog doesn’t either. They go straight to the Pits.”
“Wait, throne?” I asked.
“Yes, throne. He and Lilith get the thrones,” Vance gasped and looked at Lucifer.
I shot my glance over to him. “What?”
“You have a throne, too, Quilikrozh,” Lucifer answered.
“Wait, whoa?” I held up my hand. “I have a what?”
“My Lord,” Vance whispered.
Lucifer sat back and stared at me. “You have a throne here, Wren. You’re my twin sister and you get the same rights as I do. You’ve had a throne here forever. You’ve…” He breathed out hard and shot a look at Vance. “Oh. That’s what you meant.”
Vance nodded. “The Triad is gone and you’re wearing yourself thin, Lucifer.” He gestured at me.
I could feel myself shrink back. “Hold on.”
“It’s an idea,” my brother said.
“Wait, stop. You’re so not thinking about asking me what I think you are?”
“It’s your right.” Lucifer looked hopeful. “I can assign anyone to do part of the job, like Vance here, but I still have to go through the decisions, and either accept or reject them.”
“Limbo?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. I try not to let it go on too long. That’s unfair. But like today, it’s going to have to wait.” Lucifer leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. “But if you were to have someone like Vance with you, the day’s work would be done. Your word is as final as mine.”
“Hold the fuck up.” I lifted both my hands to hold all of this off. “You want me to pass judgment on souls? To decide if they should go to Heaven or Hell?”
“The Pits or the Fields,” Lucifer corrected, “but yes.”
“Uh, no? I’m a social worker, not an angel of death…”
My brother stared at me. “But you are. Don’t you get that? You’re my twin sister, you’re the same as me.”
“A fucking angel?”
Vance cleared his throat. “Oh, boy.”
Lucifer stared down at his hands. “The Bible is the human interpretation of the memory of time they don’t remember, but it’s not wholly wrong. El asked me to watch Hades, and let me name you and Lil as those who could speak for me in the same voice.”
Jerking back in the chair, I scrubbed my hand down my face. “Holy shit.”
“I asked for Coekabiel to watch the gates of the Pit, and for Samkiel and Raguel to help him, and Nasargiel, Ioath and Ouriel to help in the Fields. The Triad has been missing, and it’s been too much. Coe won’t ever help me here, even though he could easily take care of the messes the demons make with a flick of his hand.”
“Who’s Coe… Coekabiel?”
Lucifer let out a long, tired breath. “Shit, you really don’t remember anything.”
Vance leaned in. “Coekabiel Zhadanjkrozh.”
Coekabiel Darkstar.
Lucifer grimaced. “Our older brother.”
I shoved away from the table and paced away from him. “Are you fucking with me right now? Are you?”
“No, not at all. He’s considerably older than we are, but he’s got a sour disposition, and El thought that my suggestion of Tartarus was a good match for him. He’s not personable and having him send souls to their rightful home would have resulted in a huge imbalance.”
Lacing my fingers behind my neck, I hung my head. “Oh, God, this is all too much for me. I was still having trouble processing you as my brother, and now you throw in that I have a throne and an older brother—”
In a flash, Lucifer was up and around the table with an arm around my shoulder, guiding me back to the chair. “I’m sorry, Wren. I should try harder to remember that you don’t remember. You don’t know all this.”
“Damn straight. All I wanted to do was make sure that the fucker who killed all those kids in the daycare went straight to the Pits.”
“Already done,” Vance said with a nod. “That piece of shit was easy.”
“See?” The Devil smiled at me. “You have a drive to make sure that people are honestly sent where they need to be. Will you help me? It’s not all the time. Just once in a while, when Elysium gets out of control like it did today.”
“And Coekabiel won’t help?”
“Not in the millions of years we’ve known him.”
“You. You’ve known him,” I whispered. “I still don’t remember.”
“Please, Wren, I need your help. Lily tries, but she’s also time constricted.”
I felt a strange warmth and connection with this man…demon…angel in front of me. I didn’t remember having a brother, but what I felt right now, comfort and caring, is what I’d always imagined it would feel like to have a sibling.
I was not ready for this. There was no way that I was qualified to be the judge of souls. I was a social worker who happened to have a neat sword and a few nifty powers. Not an angel. Not a judge.
But the look on Luce’s face was pleading. It was more than just him wanting help. It was him, wanting his sister around, wanting things to go back to the way they were before. I didn’t know what that was. I did know that if I had a chance to get to know my brother, I wanted to take that chance.
“Don’t leave me alone to do this, Luce. Don’t.”
His face burst into a grin. “No, Little Star, I never would. Vance will help you. Lily will help if she can make it. And I will too if we have the chance.”
I let out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll help. How are you going to let me know you need my help.”
“I’ll text you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You text?”
He pulled a cell phone out of his back pocket. “This is one of the best inventions that humans have ever come up with.”
“Oh dear God and baby Jesus, don’t tell me you sext your wife on that.”
I had no idea the Devil could blush.
Paige
Alistair Hathorne the Fourth, Esquire, sat perfectly straight in the chair in front of my desk. He was coiffed, suited, cologned, and spit-shined to a perfect T.
Ruthless, unemotional, disinterested, and aloof. His dark, African skin seemed almost too warm for the cool attitude he presented, and his amber brown eyes were too kind for the look he was giving me at present. His hair was cut short and neat, and I’d bet money he never spoke to the barber that he visited each Saturday morning for his trim and shave. His lips were pink and plump, and far kinder and more forgiving than any words I’d ever heard the man speak.
He had broad shoulders that demanded a custom cut in his suit jacket. The shirt underneath was just the right amount of transparent that he had to wear an undershirt. V-necked, of course, that clung to him and confirmed that yes, this man probably could bench press me without a second thought.
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