Raise the Dead

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Raise the Dead Page 18

by Briana Michaels


  "I said speak," Michael snarled into the phone.

  "I'm downstairs."

  "Stay there." Michael hung up the phone. Sinking his fingers in the witch's hips, he punished her with thrusts that had to have rearranged her goddamn organs. She liked it rough, so he wasn't worried about her fragility.

  He pulled out just before he came, and pumped his cock to jiz all over the bedding. No way was he going to give this bitch the pleasure of divine desire. Angel's cum was potent. And stimulating. If she wanted so much as a drop of that sweet stuff, she'd have to earn it.

  He wiped off his cock with her shirt and tossed it onto her face, "Clean up. We've got work to do." He grabbed his pants from the floor and turned to the woman's twin sister. "You," he snarled, "Better have learned your lesson now."

  The woman sniffled from her seat. Still bound and gagged, she had to watch him fuck her twin.

  Sometimes it was hard to tell them apart. Sometimes, he could tell just by the sheer amount of hate and admiration in their eyes.

  Once dressed, Michael untied the witch in the chair and kissed her gently. "Don't disappoint me again. You know I only love you. Your sister's a terrible substitute for what my heart truly desires."

  He knew how to play with their emotions. Knew how to pin one against the other. And he knew he could easily lose them if he didn't keep those twins in line. One couldn't be without the other, so he was forced to take the good with the bad.

  How typical.

  "You," he pointed at the tongue-less one, "sit."

  She wobbled over, sore from him fucking her so hard, and dropped gingerly into the chair. The hate in her eyes could have burned his wings to ash.

  "Chin up, woman. You liked it. Don't hate me because you hate yourself. It's foolish and pointless." He nipped her bottom lip and she ripped away from him, tearing her lip in the process. "See? It's only you who gets hurt."

  "Michael," the other sister said, "let's go."

  He turned and slapped her across the face. "Know your place." No one gave orders around here but him.

  Seeing her hurt expression, he wanted to say he was sorry, but didn't. Fact was, he didn't have a clue how he felt anymore. He had no attachments. Even if he wanted to feel something for her or her twin, Michael wasn't going to allow himself the pleasure. They were temporary. Everything around him was temporary. And if he planned to outlive the world, caring about it wasn't an option.

  Hating it was.

  After securing everything in his apartment, he took the second twin with him down to the lobby of his building. Strange, to live among the humans like this. It was like settling for mediocre.

  Manhattan was a perfect place to disappear in plain sight. No one questioned the crazy shit they saw. They labeled it as art. Self-expression. Trendy. Whatever the fuck that meant.

  "Be a good girl and do just as we discussed."

  "Yes, master."

  Michael ran his fingers through his chin-length sandy brown hair and got out a few tangles before stepping outside. The wind whipped his hair around, immediately tangling his hair again.

  "Anthony.”

  “I take it this is your handy work,” he pointed to the red sky.

  Michael looked up and smiled at the view. It was terrifying and heartwarming all in the same breath. “Have you come to accept my offer?”

  Anthony stepped back. “I’m still unsure.”

  “Wasting one’s time only makes you look weak.” Michael turned to head back inside. “Don’t disappoint me again.”

  “Wait.” Anthony blocked the door. “I didn’t say I wasn’t.”

  “You’re not saying anything.”

  “Things are shifting, Michael. If you’re causing this much destruction, I want to know exactly what I’m getting into.”

  “Does it matter? You’re either with me or against me.”

  “With.”

  Anthony’s rushed answer pleased Michael to no end. “Why don’t we go for a walk, brother, and grab a bite to eat.” In one smooth move he put his arm around Anthony’s shoulder and gave his witch the signal. While he lured Anthony away, the witch followed.

  Eve leaned against the window in the living room and stared at the sky. The Hell hole was closed up. The malanum were sent back to Hell’s prisons and the grass was patchy with their blood. The red skies darkened, fading into the night. The Evening star glimmered all by itself while the moon hung low.

  Be the brightest star and I’ll be the darkest sky.

  Lucifer said that to her once when they were both locked in his cage. Back when life was actually good. Who would have thought living in a cage in the vilest of conditions would have been the happiest days of her life?

  “Come here, Flower.”

  Eve wanted to flip him the bird, but Lazarus was just as miserable as she was and misery loved company. Still dressed in stained clothes from the fight, she pulled her hair out of her face and quietly joined Laz in the kitchen.

  He was sitting on the floor, legs stretched, wings pliable and curled like a cushion for his back. In his lap, Anam rested his head and slept. “Sit with me, Flower.”

  She dropped down with a groan across from him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could have told you everything from the beginning. I have felt each and every one of your tragedies. Never once did I wish any of it upon you or the others.”

  She hated how her tears filled up so fast and blurred her vision. She wasn’t usually so emotional, but seeing all of her mates lately had fucked her all up. Laz’s apology was just one more thing to break her right now. “I understand.”

  And she did. Though she hated him for it, she understood Lazarus’s silence. He couldn’t say anything that would change the chain of the events or stop the butterfly effects each Angel’s actions caused. To tell them in advance that one day Lucifer would rule Hell alone, or that Eve would never be able to break Divine barriers, or that Gabriel would relinquish his passion for fighting and leading a righteous army of warriors… or… hell, anything and everything that happened… it would have caused each of them to rethink their decisions. And she knew everything happened for a reason. She’d lived in this world long enough to appreciate the power of karma and synchronicity.

  Her fate was sealed. It had been from the moment she breathed a soul into that baby and her purpose was made clear. Souls were made for a reason, which meant Hell was made for a reason, which meant the actions they took to raise such realms was done for a reason. And so on and so forth. Including the creation of Hell Hounds.

  God damn, to know Lucifer owned the power to create, bend souls and remake them in his image, was by far the most powerful of all magics she’d ever heard of.

  “Lucy’s grown so powerful and… big.”

  Lazarus chuckled lazily. “Did you expect anything less from him?”

  Not at all. Her heart swelled with pride for that Devil. Then her heart plummeted with thoughts of other things. “She’s adorable,” Eve whispered. “The baby, I mean. That little bundle of squish smells like Heaven.” Or, well, what Eve imagined Heaven smelled like. She didn’t actually know since she couldn’t get in.

  “That babe is the blend of her pack,” Lazarus absentmindedly stroked Anam’s head. “She has Tanner’s mouth, Sara’s nose, Eli’s hair, Jack’s ears, and Kalen’s eyes.”

  “A true blend. That’s…” never been done before. To have one child contain the genes of all their parents was impossible until now.

  “A miracle is the word you’re looking for, Flower.”

  “She has Lucy’s eyes too. One was green, the other Angelic blue.”

  “I know,” he smiled sadly. “She’s divine.”

  “Is she the one who will save us? Maybe she’s the dark one meant to end Michael somehow.” Eve remembered the nights when Laz would ramble on and on about prophecies and banana splits. She tried so hard to remember what his exact words were now. Back then, she only half-listened because Laz talked a lot. You had to ignore him
or you’d go crazy with all his prattling. “What was it about quiet ones? You said something about silence once, right? Or, was it,” her mind got all cluttered, “shit, something about the unbreaking or…” now she sounded like the bat shit crazy one. Damnit. “Never mind.” It didn’t matter anyway. Whatever was meant to happen was going to happen.

  Laz wiped a hand down his face and leaned his head back, not answering her.

  Eve changed the subject. “Does the baby have a name yet?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  “Something fitting.”

  Okay. So she wasn’t meant to know. That annoyed and intrigued her. Mostly it just pissed her off though. “She’s hungry. I feel her steady, constant tug.”

  “Will you cut her off?”

  “You know the answer already. Stop asking questions, it drives me crazy.”

  He closed his eyes and said no more.

  “Why was the sky red earlier?” she needed to change subjects again.

  Lazarus stayed silent.

  She tried five more times and asked five more questions. When Lazarus started to lightly snore, she gave up. Exhaustion wasn’t something Laz fought. And she knew this world was taking a toll on him.

  Every bit of knowledge I own comes at an excruciating cost.

  Gone were the days when Lucifer, Lazarus, and Eve spoke in the darkness and whispered confessions to each other. Leaning across the floor, she kissed the golden-winged Angel’s head and swept the hair from his face. He looked as perfect as ever, and yet she could see the strain this life put on him.

  Of all the Angels cursed, Lazarus was the worst. Michael forcing him to drink from the Cup of Knowledge was the cruelest thing he’d ever done. To curse someone to know everything, only to have their hands bound and voice silenced when asked for help was like having a cure for cancer, with no way to administer it.

  That had to kill Laz’s conscience in some way.

  Eve knew well what it took to survive fate. So did Lucifer. Actually, all her mates were professionals at this point. It took a hollowing of one’s heart to live the lives they had.

  Sadly, Eve could already feel her heart filling back up and there was no way to stop it. Not after seeing her mates again. And definitely not after touching Lucifer for the first time in forever. The problem with allowing her heart to fill back up?

  She was going to bleed out again. And one of them was most likely going to hold the blade and make the first stab.

  Chapter 22

  Lucifer needed to call a Hound meeting soon. Just as soon as he sorted out this hot mess, he’d bring them in. His protective instincts thrashed around, unsure of where to put themselves first. If Michael was using malanum to set off bombs or something else to kill hundreds at a time, why would the souls go here? That didn’t make sense.

  Michael wasn’t sloppy. He’d direct the souls, corral them somehow for his purpose. Which lead Lucifer to believe the catastrophe was just an act of supreme violence and Michael had nothing to do with it.

  He’d also just been told about the psychics gone missing. Now that was a concern. A big one. Some of his Hounds relied heavily on their psychic connections and used their divination skills to find people… like Michael. If that fucker took them all – which seemed very likely – Lucifer doubted they’d last long in captivity. Damn, he should have protected them better. Warning them wasn’t enough, he should have done more. Annnnd they were still missing some Hell Hounds too.

  So many to guard and protect, so few to do it…

  Lucifer also needed to keep Sara’s child safe. Having this much danger so near to a newborn wasn’t something Lucifer would allow. Putting the child in the human world with malanum and Michael wasn’t safe. Nor was allowing the babe so close to malanum in the prisons. He wasn’t sure how far their energy could reach.

  What a fucking mess.

  He also wanted to check on Eve and Lazarus. He left them after the malanum attack because he had bigger issues than an ex-lover and broken heart to deal with right now. Still, he felt a weight on his chest because he abandoned them after securing the house and closing the Hell hole in the yard. Eve and Laz were both stuck in the human world and after what Uriel just relayed to him, that red sky he’d seen earlier was a big fucking problem. Leaving them up there to fend for themselves felt wrong, especially since he was now in a position to help them.

  Then there was the issue of making new Gatekeepers, because at this point, Luce needed each and every able-bodied Hell Hound out there fighting and protecting the innocents in the human realm, which meant he needed a new crew to guard the prisons.

  “Fuck,” Tanner dropped into a chair.

  Lucifer’s mouth turned up sardonically. Fuck just about summed it up. “How’s my Darling?” Maybe good news would calm him.

  “Perfect. They’re both so fucking perfect.”

  “Glad to hear it, Sunshine Boy.” Lucifer stood when he heard more Hounds approaching. There was a lot of commotion going on and he didn’t wait for them to enter the throne room. He met them at the door.

  Byrne escorted another Hound in - chained, bound, and gagged – both physically and magically. Lucifer nearly went apeshit at the sight of one of his Hounds like that. “The fuck have you done to him, Byrne?”

  “I took no chances, sire.” The Hound didn’t show an ounce of remorse for his action. The stench of dark magic burned Lucifer’s nostrils. “What happened to him?”

  “I honestly don’t know. We were all hunting, and when he didn’t return, I went back out to search for him. Found him catatonic in the middle of a corn field.”

  Damn. Lucifer tipped the Hound’s head back and peered into his bloodshot eyes. “He feels hollowed out. Like he’s been emptied.”

  “Like Sara was?” Eli asked.

  “No, this is different.” Lucifer couldn’t put his finger on what it was. “Damnit, put him in the cells.”

  “Gagged or not?” Byrne asked.

  When Lucifer took too long to answer, Uriel said, “Yes. For now.”

  Lucifer growled.

  “A word, brothers.” Uriel grabbed Lucifer and the four Angels stepped into the room and he shut the door. “Look, I think he should stay bound and gagged because what if he’s been spelled to recite incantations that could wreck us from the inside out?”

  “I have wards in place for that. Always have,” Lucifer said.

  “And if he’s somehow infected and bites someone?”

  “We’ll put him in isolation.”

  Gabriel didn’t like that idea. “Luce, I know how you feel about this. I get what you’re seeing when you look at your men being treated like animals, but it’s the only way.”

  Lucifer’s head dropped and he tried to think rationally. “Something vital was taken from his soul,” he confessed. “That’s why he feels hollow.”

  “Holy shit,” Uriel leaned against the wall. “Can you tell what it is?”

  “His conscience, maybe?” Lucifer frowned. “That’s what it feels like.”

  “You sure?” Gabriel asked.

  “No, I’ve never heard of that being done before,” Lucifer was at a loss here. Everyone had a conscience. Whether they chose to turn it off or live by it was another matter entirely, they still fucking had one. “If my Hound was stripped of conscience…”

  Con tensed, “He’d be a cold-hearted killer with the skills of the Devil. That’s not good, Luce.”

  “There’s more to it than that.” Lucifer deflated, “I can’t feel him at all. I feel each of my Hounds on some basic level. Him? I feel nothing. It’s like dipping my hand into an abyss. He’s been stripped or starved of something more than his damn morals.”

  “Hungry dogs are never loyal,” Con warned.

  Lucifer shot him a dark glare, “Mine will be.”

  “Yeah, but loyal to which one of their masters – you or Michael?”

  “They’re mine,” Lucifer growled. “Always.” And if this was Michael’s doing, wou
ldn’t he snatch the Hound up like he had the others who were still missing? No. Something didn’t fit with this scenario. “Maybe it’s not his conscience that’s absent.” Then it clicked, “It’s his will to live that’s gone.”

  “Holy Mackerel,” Uriel started pacing and praying. “What are we going to do?”

  “Sometimes we have to make hard sacrifices.” Gabriel said. “Put him down.”

  Lucifer. Lost. His. Shit.

  He punched Gabriel’s face so hard, there was no time to block the hit. Gabe’s head snapped back but he didn’t budge from his stance. Before Lucifer did it again, Constantine stepped between them. “Enough!”

  Gabe looked around Con’s shoulder, “You can’t afford the drain, brother.”

  “The fuck I can’t.” Lucifer would give his last drop to his Hounds. They were in this mess because of him. Because he fucking failed to take Michael down and keep him down. His Hounds dedicated their lives to him, and Lucifer had done the same in return. He wasn’t giving up on his men. No matter the cost. No matter how futile it might be.

  “You’re not thinking clearly, Lucifer.” Gabriel stretched his jaw, making sure it still worked.

  “That Hound still has free will. So long as he has the ability to choose, he can regain his conscience or his will, or anything else he might have lost.”

  Gabriel wasn’t buying it. “And you think righteousness will save him from his fate?”

  “I fucking know it will,” Lucifer growled. “These Hounds were made in my fucking image. I know damn well what they’re capable of.”

  Before Gabriel could say something else, Constantine said, “Fine. If you trust him that much, put the Hound in an isolated cage and let’s keep guards on him.”

  “What guards?” Gabriel roared. “We’re stretched too thin! There aren’t enough Gatekeepers for the prisons let alone anywhere else!”

  “You’re right,” Lucifer’s rage drained right out of him. “You’re absolutely right.” He marched to the door and opened it up again. Looking down the hall packed with Hounds, he said, “Lock your Hound in purgatory, Byrne. Keep him isolated from all others. Gabriel,” he turned to his brother, “you’re coming with me.”

 

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