Passion

“That’s not true. If you remember, I just made a big choice not to kill my soul.”

That angered him—she could see it in the way his nostrils flared, the way he reached up and balled his claw into a fist and made a patch of the starry sky go out like a light switch had been flicked somewhere. But he said nothing for the longest time. Just stared away into the night.

A horrible thought struck Luce. “Were you even telling the truth? What would really have happened if I’d used the starshot to—” She shuddered, sickened that she’d come so close. “What’s in all this for you? You want me out of the picture or something so you can get to Daniel? Is that why you would never show yourself in front of him? Because he would have gone after you and—”

Satan chuckled. His laughter dimmed the stars. “You think I’m scared of Daniel Grigori? You do think very highly of him. Tell me, what kind of wild lies has he been filling your head with about his grandiose place in Heaven?”

“You’re the liar,” Luce said. “You’ve done nothing but lie from the moment I met you. No wonder the whole universe despises you.”

“Fears. Not despises. There’s a difference. Fear has envy in it somewhere. You may not believe it, but there are many who wish to wield the power that I wield. Who … adore me.”

“You’re right. I don’t believe you.”

“You just don’t know enough. About anything. I’ve taken you on a tour of your past—shown you the futility of this existence, hoping to awaken you to the truth, and all I get from you is ‘Daniel! I want Daniel!’ ”

He flung her down and she fell into blackness, coming to a stop only when he glared at her, as if he could fix her in place. He moved in a tight circle around her, his hands behind his back, his wings drawn tight, his head tilted toward the sky. “Everything you see here is everything there is to see. From far away, yes, but it’s all there—all the lives and worlds and more, far beyond the weak conception of mortals. Look at it.”

She did, and it looked different than it had before. The veldt of stars was endless, the dark of night folded again and again over so many bright spots that the sky was more light than black. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s about to be a tabula rasa.” His lips curled into a twisted smile. “I’ve grown tired of this game.”

“This is all a game to you?”

“It’s a game to him.” He swept his hand across the sky and left a dark swath of night in his wake. “And I refuse to concede it to that Other simply because of a cosmic scale. Simply because our sides are in balance.”

“Balance. You mean, the scale between the fallen angels who allied themselves with you, and those who allied themselves with—”

“Don’t say it. But yes, that other. Right now there is a balance, and—”

“And one more angel has to side,” Luce said, remembering the long talk Arriane had given her at the diner in Las Vegas.

“Mmm-hmm. Except this time, I won’t leave it to chance. It was a shortsighted goal of mine, the whole starshot bit, but I’ve seen the error of my ways. I’ve been plotting. I’ve been planning. Often while you and some past iteration of Grigori were preoccupied with your B-grade heavy petting. So, you see, no one will be able to sabotage what I have planned next.

“I’m going to wipe the slate clean. Start over. I can skip the millennia that led up to you and your loophole of a life, Lucinda Price”—he snorted—“and begin again. And this time, I will play more wisely. This time I will win.”

“What does that mean, ‘wipe the slate clean’?”

“All of time is like a grand slate, Lucinda. Nothing is written that can’t be erased by one clever sort. It’s a drastic move, yes, and it means that I’ll be throwing away thousands of years. A big setback for everyone concerned—but hey, what’s a handful of lost millennia in the yawning concept of eternity?”

“How can you do that?” she said, knowing he could feel her tremble in his grasp. “What does it mean?”

“It means I’m going back to the beginning. To the Fall. To all of us being cast out of Heaven because we dared to exercise free will. I’m talking about the first great injustice.”

“Reliving your greatest hits?” she said, but he wasn’t listening, lost in the details of his scheme.

“You and the tiresome Daniel Grigori will make the trip with me. In fact, your soul mate is on his way there now.”

“Why would Daniel—”

“I showed him the way, of course. Now all I have to do is get there in time to see the angels cast out and begin their fall to Earth. What a beautiful moment that will be.”

“When they begin their fall? How long did it take?”

“Nine days by some accounts,” he murmured, “but it seemed an eternity to those of us cast out. You never asked your friends about it? Cam. Roland. Arriane. Your precious Daniel? All of us were there.”

“So you see it happen again. So what?”

“So then I do something unexpected. And do you know what that is?” He snickered, and his red eyes gleamed.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “Kill Daniel?”

“Not kill. Catch. I’m going to catch every last one of us. I’ll open up an Announcer like a great net, casting it to the forward edge of time. Then I’ll cleave to my old self and spirit the full host of angels into the present with me. Even the ugly ones.”

“So what?”

“So what? We will be once more starting at the beginning. Because the Fall is the beginning. It isn’t a part of history; it is when history begins. And all that has come before? It will no longer have happened.”

“No longer have hap—You mean, like that life in Egypt?”

“Never happened.”

“China? Versailles? Las Vegas?”

“Never, never, never. But it’s more than just you and your boyfriend, selfish child. It’s the Roman empire and the so-called Son of that Other. It is the long sad festering of humanity rising from the primordial murk of the earth and turning its world into a cesspool. It is everything that has ever taken place, taken away by a tiny little skip across time, like a stone skipping across water.”

“But you can’t just … erase all of the past!”

“Sure I can. Like shortening a skirt’s waistband. Just remove the excess fabric and draw the two parts together and it’s like that middle part never existed. We start fresh. The whole cycle will repeat itself, and I’ll have another shot at luring in the important souls. Souls like—”

“You will never get him. He will never join your side.”

Daniel hadn’t given in once across the five thousand years she’d witnessed. No matter that they killed her again and again and denied him his one true love, he would not give in and choose a side. And even if he did somehow lose his resolve, she would be there to support him: She knew now that she was strong enough to carry Daniel if he faltered. Just as he’d carried her.

“No matter how many times you wipe the slate clean,” she said, “it won’t change a thing.”

“Oh.” He laughed as if he were embarrassed for Luce—a thick, scary guffaw. “Of course it will. It will change everything. Shall I count the ways?” He stuck out a spiky, yellowed claw. “First of all, Daniel and Cam will be brothers again, just as they were in the early days after the Fall. Won’t that be fun for you? Worse still: no Nephilim. No time will have passed for angels to walk the earth and copulate with the mortals, so say goodbye to your little friends from school.”

“No—”

He snapped his claws. “Oh, one more thing I forgot to mention: Your history with Daniel? That gets erased. So everything you’ve discovered on your little quest, all those things you so earnestly told me you’d learned in between our jaunts in the past? You can kiss them goodbye.”

“No! You can’t do this!”

He swept her into his cold grasp once more. “Oh, darling—it’s practically done.” He cackled, and his laughter sounded like an avalanche as time and space folded around the two of them. Luce shuddered and cringed and fought to loosen his grip, but he had her tucked too tightly, too deeply under his vile wing. She could see nothing,