"It's racing now," he whispered. "I can hear it."
He made love to her, thrusting again and again, propping himself up with one arm as his right hand stayed planted on her chest. Serah didn't just feel him in body. Luce was penetrating part of her soul. He wrapped himself tightly around it, gripping hold and not letting go, claiming parts of Serah she didn't realize existed until he awakened them in her. Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance, wind whipping against the windows as a storm neared.
Another orgasm seized her, and then another, back to back pleasure sending her over the edge. She could barely catch her breath as he drove her places she wasn't sure a human body was capable of being. His name fell from her lips, a gratifying whisper she couldn't contain.
Luce.
"So beautiful," he whispered yet again, his mouth finding her ear as she closed her eyes, wrapping her arms tightly around him, holding him even though it hurt. Stinging erupted across her skin, torturous pins and needles that left a burn in their wake. It felt like sunburn, rubbed raw, making tears prickle the corner of her eyes.
He moved faster, thrusting deeper, muttering into her neck about being close. Serah could sense it, could feel his body tensing, rock hard above her, his movements more frenzied. The ache inside of her intensified as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, a tear leaking down her cheek.
"No," Luce growled. "No… no… no…"
All at once, the blackness ripped away with a blast of light, burning blood red behind her eyelids as another orgasm ripped through her. She gasped, struggling for air. It was as if an explosion went off inside of her chest, ricocheting out through her limbs. Her eyes snapped open, and maybe it was her imagination, but she could've sworn he was glowing again.
"NO!"
Lucifer screamed the word as the stark white spans of nothingness materialized around him, his bare feet planted dead center of the circle surrounded by those damned confining sigils. He glared down at them, anger building inside of him, brewing like molten lava.
He felt like he might explode.
He could feel the peculiar tingle from being summoned, but the rage overshadowed it, the concentration of sin inside of him so intense it made his body vibrate. He clenched his hands into fists, trying to restrain it, to force it back, but it had been building for too long.
It had nowhere to go.
"Fuck!"
The curse roared from his lips, the feelings purging from him at once. It had been so long, too long, since he opened up and just let it go, unleashing everything that he'd been bottling in. The release of energy was so intense the floor quaked, for just a moment everything surrounding him obscured in a haze, like the brightness of Heaven had been soiled by all of his sin. It cleared just as quickly as it happened, the ground stable as it was all sucked away.
Lucifer's fiery gaze lifted from the sigils surrounding him, imprisoning him, to the throne just a few feet away. His Father sat passively, relaxed, merely watching him with a bored expression on His face. Michael, on the other hand, sat hunched over, slumped with defeat, his face lined with concern and a tinge of something else.
Disgust?
"Are you done now?" His father asked calmly, "or do you want to throw another tantrum?"
Tantrum. Luce hated being spoken to like a child.
Luce didn't entertain that condescending question with an answer, keeping his eyes on Michael. No, it wasn't disgust, nor was it anger. It was hurt.
Hurt.
How many times had he tried to hurt his brother? How many times had he tried to destroy Michael only to decide, at the end, the archangel couldn't be wounded? Clearly, he'd been wrong.
He'd hurt him finally.
Luce didn't feel quite so good about it today.
He knew, taking in Michael's expression, that he'd witnessed what just happened, that he'd seen every bit of his evening with Serah. What kind of sick, masochistic voyeur would watch that?
"Lucifer."
His Father's voice was strong, an edge of authority to it that instinctively drew his eyes to Him. Luce suddenly felt extremely exposed, standing in the middle of Heaven in front of his dysfunctional family wearing nothing but Serah's scent and a hell of a lot of sin, his mind an open book.
Lucifer tried to manifest some clothes, but the enchantments around him kept him from doing much of anything. Groaning, he glared at his Father. "Give me some clothes."
"Clothes?" He asked casually. "You've never been one for modesty. You seem to get a lot of pleasure out of the naked form."
"Yeah, well, I'm not entirely getting pleasure out of having my brother over there ogle my cock."
Michael chimed in, disgruntled. "I would never!"
Their Father raised His hand, silencing Michael before he could truly argue. With the flick of a wrist, clothes materialized on Luce, the same clothes he'd been granted so many years ago, clothes that matched Michael's—a crisp, clean suit, so white it blended into their surroundings.
Luce cocked an eyebrow at the getup. "Really?"
His Father simply smiled.
"Put me back," Luce ordered. "You had no business calling me here, no business watching me, no business intervening in what we were doing. She has free will. There's nothing to stop her from being with me if she wants to be. So put me back. Now."
Luce's demands went ignored.
"Do you know why angels are forbidden from intermingling with humans?" his Father asked.
"Because You're an asshole?"
"Because you're powerful," He said, ignoring the insult as usual. "You especially, Lucifer. You're the most powerful being I ever created. With the exception of your brother, few creatures could ever cause the sort of chaos that you do. And while he's capable of the same level of destruction, he doesn't have it in him to ever do it. Not like you."
Those words were constricting, like hands wrapped around Lucifer's throat. "Guess they're wrong, huh? Your beloved children think God doesn't make mistakes."
"I don't," He said firmly. "You're not a mistake."
"What am I then? An experiment gone awry? Some kind of fucking plaything for you to toy with?"
"You're you," He said, as if that cleared it up. "You're my child, Lucifer."
Luce just stared at Him. He had a steadfast argument against that, but he didn't have it in him to get into it again.
"Put me back."
"You're too strong for her."
"I'll hold back."
"You can't."
"Don't tell me what to do!" Lucifer snapped. "I take orders from no one!"
All was quiet for a moment, tension building then releasing from the room as his Father sent a wave of calm through the air that only scarcely affected Luce.
"No one underestimates you as much as you do yourself," He said. "Your power once wiped out most of her Grace. Even restrained, you siphoned off so much of her innocence. She was an angel then, strong, but she was no match for you, and she's mortal now. She's weak. You're lethal to her."
"I'll be careful."
"You nearly exploded her heart," He said quietly. "Had I not pulled you away when I did, your power would've taken her life. It would've drained her until she had nothing left."
Luce didn't want to believe it.
It hurt him to even entertain it.
"I'll put you back," He continued. "If that's what you truly want."
Luce nodded. "I certainly don't want to be here."
With the snap of a finger, everything was gone, the darkness of Serah's bedroom surrounding him once again. He was deep inside of her, so deep he could feel the fire in her, could feel her frantic heartbeat as it pulsated through him. Orgasm rocked through her, so hard her heart stalled for a moment and fell out of rhythm.
Her eyes shot open, meeting his, the irises burning bright red. Fuck. Luce pulled out of her instantly before he went too far, easing his grip on her skin. He'd been close. So fucking close. He'd been so lost in the sensations he hadn't sensed her oncoming distress. She stared up
at him in shock, blinking rapidly after a second. "What was that?"
The earth still trembled around him, the storm outside beating down on them now. It had been him, he realized. The purge of emotions had caused it. He'd been gone for only a fraction of a second, not long enough for Serah to detect, but she certainly felt the after affects.
"It's just a storm," he said. "Lightning and thunder."
Serah's heart rate eased just a bit, her eyes softening to their usual brown, a slight glow lingering on her skin. He leaned down, softly kissing her, just a gentle peck before he brought his lips to her forehead.
"Get some sleep," he whispered, more to himself than her, because she was unconscious within seconds. "You're going to need to recuperate."
Samantha Lauer still couldn't sleep.
It wasn't the heartburn or the swollen ankles that did it. She had something more invasive now: a crying infant.
He was a tiny thing, the smallest person Serah had ever seen, but he wailed loudly. He fit perfectly in the crook of his mother's arm, nearly invisible if it weren't for the ear-splitting screech. Serah sat across from them at the kitchen table, her eyes on the little round face.
Even distraught, she'd never seen something so lovely.
It amazed her, something coming from nothing, developing and evolving from the tiniest cells, the universe breathing life into a woman's body. She'd never thought of having children, or at least she didn't remember ever thinking of it, but seeing little Samuel in his mother's arms made a part of Serah twinge.
"He's beautiful, Samantha."
"He's unhappy," Samantha said. "He hates me."
Her distressed voice made Serah smile sympathetically. "No, he doesn't. Children don't hate their parents."
"You sure about that?"
"Positive," she said. "He's just trying to communicate."
"Yeah, well, any idea what he's saying?" Samantha asked, a hint of desperation in her voice. "Because it sounds a lot like 'I hate you' at three in the morning."
"He's trying to get used to the world," Serah said. "He's just so new to it all, you know? Completely helpless and innocent."
"You sound like the baby whisperer."
Serah laughed as a loud knock echoed through the house from the front door. The banging startled the baby, who started crying even harder. Samantha stood up and started for the door, but stalled beside Serah's chair.
"Can you, uh…?" She paused as whoever it was knocked again. "Can you hold him for a second?"
Before she could respond, the baby was thrust into her arms. Serah gripped hold of him, eyes wide, and stared down at his little body. Samantha let go, taking a step back, her hands up as if to make sure Serah had him before she let her guard down.
Serah smiled, cradling him in one arm, as she stroked his cheek with a pointer finger. His skin felt electric, tingling her fingertip. He quieted down at her touch, his cries shifting to whimpers, seconds later stopping completely.
"Holy shit," Samantha said. "You are the baby whisperer."
The third knock was louder than the first two. Groaning, Samantha yelled for them to hold their horses as she strolled that way. Serah stared at the quiet baby as he peeked his eyes open and stared up at her. He was three weeks old today, and it was the first time Serah had held him or had even seen him any closer than crying in his mother's arms.
"Hello, Samuel," she whispered as she continued to stroke his warm cheek. "I'm Serah."
He just stared at her.
"Your parents are good people," she continued. "Your sister, too. Some of the best people I've ever met. You're a lucky little boy to have them, so you need to cut them some slack. Your mom could use a bit of sleep."
"Ugh." Samantha's voice rang out as she closed the front door again. "I swear, he's such an asshole."
"Who?"
"The landlord," she groaned. "He came to complain that the grass hasn't been mowed in like, a year. I told him Nicholas would get to it whenever he could. I mean, we have a newborn, and my husband is hardly ever at home… excuse the hell out of me for not making yard work a priority. I haven't slept in days."
"Why don't you sleep now?"
"Because Samuel's…" She hesitated. "…not crying. He's not crying. How did you do that?"
"I didn't do anything."
"Baby whisperer," she said again, smiling as she carefully picked Samuel back up. She watched him carefully, like she expected him to start crying again, but he remained quiet. "Oh God, Nicki doesn't get home from camp for a few hours. Maybe I can sleep. You think?"
Serah laughed. "I think."
Samantha mumbled apologies about not being better company, but Serah shrugged her off, hugging her friend before heading out the door.
She showered and ate an early dinner alone before heading out for work a few hours later. She walked, strolling along casually, her footsteps stalling when she neared the old motel and saw the familiar form standing right outside. "Luce?"
He turned, his eyes scanning her carefully. "Serah."
There was something in his voice, something she couldn't quite place. It was strained, like he was holding something in. She ran into him occasionally the past few weeks, but it had been a few days since she saw his face. Since their night together, he'd been keeping his distance.
As he stood there in front of her, she could tell his thoughts were far away. His eyes kept drifting over her head and all around her like he was looking for something. She glanced beside her, curious, but all that met her were the normal Chorizon streets.
Maybe he's just avoiding facing me...
"Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.
"I'm fine."
"You seem… distracted."
He offered her a tentative smile. "You're not the only one who can sense things."
"What do you sense?"
"Something that shouldn't be here."
The way he looked at people as they passed, Serah suspected it was more of a 'someone' than a 'something'. She started to express that when Luce suddenly reached out, grabbing her. She tensed, surprised, but relaxed when he wrapped his arms around her. He smelled warm, like earth, a slight hint of sulfur on his skin.
Serah slipped her arms around his waist, hugging him as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The embrace didn't last long before he pulled away. "You should get to work before you're late."
"Yeah," she said, taking a step back, her eyes still on him. "Hey, Luce? Can you do me a favor?"
He hesitated. "What?"
"Can you maybe mow my neighbor's grass?" she asked. "Mine's taken care of by my landlord, but theirs… well, their landlord isn't as nice as mine."
He stared at her. "You want me to mow grass?"
"Yes," she said. "If you don't mind."
He didn't respond, but nodded slightly, the only answer she figured she was getting.
"And try to be quiet about it," she told him. "You know, since they have the baby and everything."
"Quiet," he said. "Got it."
She offered him a wave as she took another step away before turning and heading inside the lobby of the motel.
She paused when she reached the door, glancing back, but he was gone already.
Serah didn't much mind the nightshift, although it could be a little boring most of the time. Especially weekdays, like today, where very few people traveled through this town. They had two occupants, and nobody came into the lobby for hours.
It was dark outside, approaching midnight, as Serah sat beside the desk, reading a trashy little romance novel she'd plucked out of one of the drawers. She assumed it belonged to Gilda. She was skimming a particularly indecent scene, her cheeks flushing from the obscenity, when the door opened, the bell dinging. Serah anxiously closed the book, dropping it back into the drawer, and called out a "welcome" as she glanced up. The smile on her face melted, quickly wiping away when she realized nobody was there.
Her eyes looked around the lobby, confused. "Hello?"
"Hello.
"
The voice came from right behind her, so close the hair at her nape prickled, a chill shooting down her spine. Fear tensed her muscles as she spun around in the chair, coming face to face with a familiar man. It took her a few seconds in her alarm to recall his name. "Don."
He grinned. "You remember."
"Uh, yes," she said tentatively, standing up and edging away, stepping out into the lobby as the man lingered behind the desk. Bells and whistles went off in her head. Something wasn't right. Luce's earlier words rang through her mind. Something that shouldn't be here. "Can I help you?"
"As I said before, you can," he said, slowly stepping around the side of the desk. "You can help me in ways nobody else can."
This wasn't right. Serah's defenses prickled as her eyes darted around. It was so late, the town was dead at this hour, no one roaming or awake to hear her if she needed to scream. Serah counted to three in her head, her heart racing frantically, before she turned to run for the door, hearing his voice call out behind her. "Ah, don't be like that!"
She grabbed ahold of the door, the bell dinging above her as she ran out into the night, looking over her shoulder at the door to make sure he wasn't following. She swung back around just in enough time to collide with something, a scream bubbling up inside her. She looked up, scarcely making the man out in the pitch darkness as she stumbled backward, her knees nearly buckling.
"Why'd you go and run?" Don asked. "I wasn't going to hurt you."
"How…?" She stammered, shocked, glancing back at the building. He hadn't followed her out. She was certain of it. "You were just… and now you're…"
In a blink, he was gone from in front of her, suddenly twenty feet to the right before disappearing again, appearing right in front of her face just long enough for her to let out a sharp scream. Again and again, he flickered all around, vanishing right before her eyes. She spun around in a circle, terrified as he popped up all around her.
"This isn't real," she chanted, her voice unsteady as she came to a stop, his image vanishing and not reappearing, the parking lot still… so still… too still. There wasn't a breeze, not a cricket chirping, nothing. It was as if the world around her had hit pause. "It isn't real. It's can't be. This isn't happening."
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