Reignite

by J. M. Darhower

  He knew he should offer to pay.

  He just wasn't sure how to go about it.

  Before he could try to materialize some money, or offer to pay her back or something, Serah was sliding out of her seat. "Ready?"

  "Sure."

  Luce stood up as she strutted passed him on her way to the door. Hesitating, Luce glanced at the apple in his hand before slowly bringing it to his lips.

  He bit down on it.

  It was crisp, with a sharp sort of taste, intense and sweet. He chewed for a moment before swallowing, shrugging as he tossed the apple down on the table, discarding it.

  It wasn't half-bad, but it certainly wasn't worth losing your head over.

  Something happened that afternoon in the garden.

  As Eve consumed the apple, plucking another from the Tree of Knowledge to share with Adam, there was a shift in the air. A chill rolled down Lucifer's spine, crawling across his skin. He shivered from the unexpected sensation, blinking his eyes a few times, watching as redness crept along Eve's bare flesh. It was as if the blood had moved to the surface, flushing her a shade of pink, a sensation he felt echoing in him.

  Feeling.

  "What have you done?"

  His Father's voice rang out right behind him, low and desolate. Luce smiled with satisfaction, turning his head, expecting to see anger targeted at His new children for disobeying, but His focus was on the Archangel instead. His eyes were full of pain, the same sort of pain Luce had seen in Adam's face the day he'd been injured.

  "Your children," Luce said, "have been seduced by evil."

  "If it was evil that seduced them," He asked, "what does that make you?"

  The question stalled Luce. He just stared at his Father as He turned away.

  The Wrath of God was felt for the first time that afternoon. The sunny sky was awash with darkness, the first storm descending upon the earth. Luce stood there, still leaning against the tree, and watched as the humans were punished.

  Pain and heartache were cast upon them, condemning them to struggle for their disobedience. Stripped of innocence, their hearts were now tainted, hearts that no longer would beat for an eternity. They squandered His gift, He said, so He was taking it back. They'd no longer live forever. Someday, and soon, their hearts would give out on them.

  Lucifer felt the smallest hint of satisfaction when they were cast out of the garden, these new mortals banned from Paradise. They couldn't be trusted not to eat from the Tree of Life, lest they get the idea to try to steal their immortality back. The unrest went on all day, lighting flashing and thunder rumbling, rain pouring down in waves. When it finally calmed down, the air in the garden settling, Lucifer and his Father were left all alone.

  The anger faded, and as He turned to Lucifer, the Archangel once more saw His desolation.

  "Why?" He asked quietly. "Why would you do it?"

  "I wanted you to see your children weren't perfect," Lucifer said. "I wanted you to see they could be corrupted, that they could be infected by evil."

  "I saw," He said, staring right at Lucifer. "I saw the corruption. I saw the evil. I saw it all, my son, and it started with you."

  "It's not much." Serah's voice was a soft whisper as she hurriedly picked up a few stray things from her living room: a blanket covering the couch, an empty glass on the end table, and a pair of shoes discarded on the floor. "Sorry about the mess."

  She cast a nervous smile toward the front door. Was it a mess? She wasn't sure. She'd certainly seen worse in rooms at the motel.

  Luce stood in the open doorway, blocking the sunlight behind him, like he was afraid to come in any further. Was this a mistake? She was thinking it might be. She saw the man around town, always watching her, and after two strange conversations with him she invites him to her home.

  He came along willingly, but now that they were here, he looked uncomfortable.

  "So, uh, you can come in, if you want," she said, gesturing with her hands. "Make yourself at home."

  He cracked a smile as he carefully shut the door behind him and strolled into the living room. His newly acquired boots were heavy against the wooden floor, echoing off the vacant walls. Serah could feel her heart pounding harder along to the sound. Luce regarded her for a moment, just standing there in front of her.

  "This is dangerous," he said quietly, his eyes flickering around the room. "You should be careful who you invite into your home."

  "I am," she whispered. "I never have before... nobody else has ever... you know."

  Did he know?

  She didn't even really know.

  She didn't have family; she didn't have friends.

  She had nobody to invite inside except for him.

  Who was he? What was he to her? All she had was a name and a vague story, most of which she couldn't be certain was true. But she had an unshakable feeling about him, her gut instinct putting her at ease, drawing her to him. It was simultaneously feeling safe while having her nerves frayed.

  His eyes alone set her insides ablaze.

  The blue looked dark as midnight at the moment, a twinkle in his eyes like they held all the stars in his gaze. He had a solar system inside of him, a universe of secrets Serah yearned to explore.

  She wasn't sure why, or how, but she felt like she'd been there before. The closer he stepped to her, the deeper the feeling grew. Familiar... so familiar.

  He felt like a part of her.

  Goosebumps coated her skin, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. He smelled like peppermint with a hint of sulfur, like someone had struck a match not long ago. He stopped right in front of her, leaning down to stare her in the eyes, his expression dead serious.

  His lips were a mere breath away.

  "You feel it, don't you?" he asked, his voice gritty, barely a whisper. "You still feel it."

  What? She wanted to ask, the words on the tip of her tongue, but they wouldn't come out. What is this I'm feeling between us?

  The back of his hand brushed against her flushed cheek, sending sparks across her skin. Her breath hitched, heart skipping a beat at the sensation. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could've sworn his eyes blackened, a growl vibrating his chest.

  "I can tell you do," he said, inching closer. "You may not remember, but it's still there."

  What is it?

  She yearned to know.

  Luce's nose brushed against hers before he tilted his head. Her heart raced frantically. His lips lightly touched hers, barely a kiss, a soft graze, but it ignited something inside of her, rekindling an extinguished flame.

  He deepened the kiss, groaning into her mouth. She inhaled sharply, flashes of him assaulting her out of nowhere.

  A crystal clear lake. Laughter. An embrace. A table. Cracked marble. Him on top of her, inside of her, again and again. Violent and vicious, passionate and out of control. A flash of fire. A flash of screaming. Vibrant red eyes staring at her.

  Gasping, Serah shoved against him, moving away. Luce froze, watching her incredulously, as she tried to catch her breath. She stared at him, her body vibrating, a twinge of fear coursing through her.

  Luce's expression softened, his eyes melting to an icy blue, the same shade as the lake. She'd been there... they'd been there. "What... what was that?"

  He was still for a moment, stoic, his voice hesitant. "Why don't you tell me?"

  She rattled off what she saw—a lake, a table, the flames. She said his eyes had been blood red, eerie as they glared her way. Luce remained still, not reacting, waiting until she finished.

  As soon as she quieted down, he stepped toward her, reaching out and cupping her cheek. She didn't move away, didn't flinch. She leaned into his touch involuntarily.

  "I wish I could tell you everything you want to know," he said, "but then my slate wouldn't be clean anymore."

  Part of her yearned to tell him that didn't matter, but she kept that to herself. Luce leaned down again, placing a light peck on her lips, then another, and another, each softe
r than the first.

  Serah's eyes fluttered closed.

  Pulling back, he whispered, just an inch from her lips. "I have to go."

  She felt a soft breeze, a tingle along her skin. Her eyes snapped open, finding the room empty.

  Luce was gone.

  She was alone again.

  "Truce?"

  Lucifer glared at the scruffy looking Guardian. Abaddon had both hands raised in mock surrender, an amused smirk tugging his lips.

  Truce? No truce. There would never be a truce. There is no draw—you either win or you lose. He'd had many angels toss that word at him only to be laughed away, but Luce found nothing funny today.

  He'd sensed his old friend's presence outside Serah's house, lurking around in the neighborhood. Luce had caught him off guard, cornering him in the street.

  "What are you doing here?" Luce asked.

  "Curiosity."

  "You seem to be full of that lately."

  "What can I say?" He shrugged noncommittally. "It's a curious world we exist in, and I can't help but wonder how much Serah knows. Does she realize she's living beside her Heavenly brother? Does she have any idea?"

  "No," Luce said. "She doesn't remember anything."

  "Except for you," Abaddon corrected him. "She oddly remembers you. That was a nice little show you put on in there, by the way. Tell me something, old friend... does she taste as sweet as a mortal as she did as an angel? Or was kissing her just a part of your game?"

  "What game?"

  "Whatever game it is you're playing."

  "She's not a part of any game," Luce said.

  Abaddon nodded, slowly lowering his hands as his smile fell. "So your attempt to play house with a mortal is genuine? How long do you think He will tolerate that? Do you know how many angels your brother had to smite in your absence because they tried to intermingle? Too many. You can't keep her, Lucifer. He's not going to let you."

  Luce's skin tingled, the hair on his arms standing on end at those words as the anger he'd tried to control started simmering inside of him. Letting go of Serah was impossible. He'd tried and failed and tried and failed and he didn't want to try again. He didn't want to let go of her. He didn't want to lose her. He'd lost enough.

  But he knew how these things went.

  He knew how these things ended.

  "What do you want from me, Abaddon?" Luce's voice was low and menacing. He was done with this conversation.

  Abaddon stepped forward, further into the street where Luce stood. "You know what I want. Join us, brother. Join me. Together we can take control and then nobody can tell us anything. Just imagine it, getting to make your own choices, not having to live by somebody else's rules."

  "It's a nice dream, but that's all it is... a dream. I tried and failed."

  "That's because you relied on force," Abaddon said. "You tried to physically take over, but we've got another plan, a different one that's almost guaranteed to work."

  "What is it?"

  "We're going to involve the humans."

  Luce just stared at him. That wasn't a different plan. He'd tried that once with Eve.

  "I know what you're thinking," Abaddon said. "You're thinking about what happened in the Garden of Eden, but it's a different world now. You seduced one human. I'm talking about six billion."

  "And how exactly do you plan to pull that off?"

  "We're going to show ourselves to them." Abaddon grinned. "To all of them."

  Abaddon deliberately dropped his guard and let his thoughts flood through for Lucifer to observe. A hoard of angels, mostly Powers and Guardians, coming together to take over the earth. They were going to rise up and announce their existence. It all flashed through Luce's mind—public spectacles, with newspapers and television cameras, leading to bloodbaths and uprisings among the mortals, the death and destruction spanning the globe. The wave of devastation would move too fast, span too far, for their Father to clean it up with the wave of a hand. He'd conceal an angel's mess quickly to keep it from being discovered, but it was against his nature to intervene when it came to free will. The angels would capitalize on the chaos, and front and center in Abaddon's plan was Lucifer.

  Lucifer, the leader, standing in the middle of it all and watching as the world collapsed around him.

  "Seems you have it all figured out," Luce said. "What do you need me for?"

  "These humans, most of them don't know me… they don't know Hagith or Morael or Nanael, either. But you? They all know you. Lucifer is a name they learn in childhood. Satan… the proverbial devil… imagine their reaction if they knew he walked the earth. Imagine if they knew you mingled among them. I'm close to humans, so I know their hearts. Half of them don't even believe in God anymore, but they worry they may be wrong—not because they fear our Father but because they're terrified of you. They're afraid you exist. Imagine if they knew."

  A thrilling tingle crept up Luce's spine. Exactly how many times during his stay in the pit had he dreamed of just that? It was everything he'd ever wanted… that was, until the day he wanted her.

  In the short time since Serah had shown up at the gates, Luce's priorities had changed. He wasn't sure when it happened, or even why, but eventually his fight against the world turned into a fight for one soul, a soul that almost got damned for him. He'd never felt regret before… any angels that fell with him, or after him, had done it from their own choosing, had done it from their own actions, things they'd gotten into willingly. All of them, that is, except for Serah. He robbed her of her Grace, thrusting her into this other life, and now he was contemplating taking that world from her, too.

  His tendency for selfishness, his penchant for greed, urged him to buy into his old friend's grand plan, but something else stopped him.

  Something that felt infuriatingly like compassion.

  Something that seemed to be a lot like loyalty.

  Something like sympathy.

  And empathy.

  It was consideration.

  Goddamned kindheartedness.

  Who knew he had it in him?

  "Thanks," Luce said, "but no thanks."

  Abaddon's expression fell, his eyes darkening. That wasn't the answer he'd expected. Wasn't the response he'd wanted. "You're refusing?"

  "I'm politely declining," Luce clarified as a surge of anger flowed through him. He could feel his fingertips tingling, desperate to purge it, the sky above them darkening with a sudden cloud covering as a gust of wind whipped between them. "It was a proposition, correct? An offer? You aren't so overconfident that you'd actually try to demand something of me, are you? Because I answer to nobody, Guardian… not you, not Michael, and not even Him."

  "It was an offer," Abaddon said curtly. "One I don't understand why you won't take me up on."

  "Because I won't be somebody's pawn," Luce said. "I've made that clear from the beginning of time. You can dress it up pretty, but I'm no fool. You want a face for your campaign, a scapegoat to accept the blame from above, and who better than the biggest villain of all, right? Who better than Satan to take the heat? But I'm done… I'm done fighting a lose battle for control of this shitty planet that I don't even want anymore. I wanted Paradise, but look around you, Don. Paradise is gone."

  Abaddon's eyes narrowed. "I implore you to change your mind while you still can."

  "While I still can? Is that a threat?"

  "Just a suggestion," Abaddon said. "The world is changing, Lucifer, and soon. When the chips fall, you'll want yours to be on the winner, especially if you want her to stay safe."

  Luce stepped toward him, going toe to toe, face to face. "And I have a suggestion for you."

  "What?"

  "Be careful what you say," Luce said. "You're full of empty promises, and one of these days, I might finally decide to hold you to them. When I do, you'll have a hell of a lot to atone for. So don't bury yourself too deep, or you might never fly off from the ground again."

  "Ugh!" The groan seemed to echo through the yards. "Se
riously?"

  Serah glanced toward the house next door, toward the source of the voice, as she planted flowers in the patch of dirt beside her small porch. Next door, by the mailbox, the pregnant woman clutched her stomach as she tried to reach down to pick up some envelopes she'd dropped.

  Serah was on her feet, heading right for her without a second thought. She quickly bent down and scooped up all the dropped mail, standing back up to hand it to her. "Here you go."

  "Thank you so much," she said, taking the envelopes. "You are Heaven-sent."

  Serah smiled at that.

  "I'm Samantha," the woman said. "You must be the new neighbor my daughter keeps going on about."

  "Serah." She held her hand out, smiling as she used the name Luce had told her. It felt normal, like the name had given her a piece of her identity back. "Your daughter's a sweet child. She tried to help me when she thought I was lost."

  "Yeah, that sounds like Nicki." Samantha shook her hand, smiling. "Would you like to come in for a drink or something?"

  "Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose."

  "You wouldn't be imposing."

  "If you're certain..."

  "I am," she said, matter-of-fact. "I would give just about anything for some adult conversation."

  "Well, okay then," Serah said. "That sounds great."

  As soon as Serah stepped inside the small house, a strange sensation tingled inside of her, setting her at ease. It was as if she'd been here before.

  "Have a seat," Samantha said, motioning toward the small, round kitchen table. Serah slid into a chair as Samantha procured a bottle of wine from the fridge and two cups. It was nothing fancy—the cups were red disposable plastic, the wine straight off of a department store shelf, the price sticker still affixed to the bottle.

  Samantha easily popped the cork, dumping quite a bit in one cup with just a splash in the other. She nudged the nearly full one toward Serah.