evolution upon the angel. So, rather than gaining the ability to normalize my power no matter its level, my magic constantly multiplies and grows, but I have no way to keep it contained.”
“So, sending the power into the tub helps relieve the pressure?”
“It also provides a pool of accessible energy to be used by God and Lucifer, which cannot be detected. The impact on the war effort is quite impressive. It allows them to open the portal from their end and draw upon a reserve of magic while their enemies weaken over the course of battles. It also serves as a bit of surprise boost when necessary, allowing them to catch their foes off guard.”
I pulled my gaze from Baalth and set it on the orb. My mind instantly started to wonder what answers I could get if I confronted Lucifer directly. “Could I use the portal to travel to my uncle?”
Baalth quickly waggled a finger. “You could, but you would not survive the trip. The gate is not intended for travel, only the transportation of energy. You would be broken down into your base components to become a part of the power flow.”
I felt a sudden headache coming on, my face flushing. So close to the truth and yet still so far. I growled and looked toward the door, suddenly wanting nothing more to do with Baalth or the politics of Hell. “I’m going home.” I waved and walked off.
Before I could get out of the room, Baalth called to me. “Lucifer asked about you.”
I didn’t believe him; wasn’t even sure I cared, but the words stopped me. I didn’t turn around, though, out of spite. I stood, staring at the door. “Then why didn’t he have Hasstor pass a message on?”
“For all the necessity of utilizing demons such as Hasstor, Lucifer does not trust them. He would not give them such a message for fear it be seen as weakness. Lucifer cares for you greatly, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not.”
A sharp pain spiked behind my eyes, my stomach churning. I spun to glare at Baalth. “If he loved me so much, then why did he leave me behind? Why did he keep Arol’s power for himself when he sent me off to be his errand boy murderer?”
“Because you weren’t ready for it, Frank. It’s that simple.” Baalth sighed. “Lucifer hoped you would stand at his side and rule Hell in his stead, but you want nothing to do with it. You never did. Had he allowed you Arol’s power, you would have been seen as a threat to the Demonarch. You would have gotten yourself killed by those who opposed you taking power.”
“So, he did it all for me, huh?”
“He did, though I know you’ll never believe it to be true.” He shook his head, frustration plain on his face.
I felt a twinge of doubt, which was washed away by a bout of lightheadedness. “And now?”
“Things have changed, Frank, but Lucifer still hopes for the same.”
I stared at the demon, trying to pierce the shadows of his dark eyes, but there was nothing there that told me whether he was being honest or plying me with emotional bullshit meant to pacify me. I didn’t know what to believe, but I didn’t want to hear any more of it.
Not feeling well, I left the room and made my way through the labyrinth of tunnels, which led back to the portal in Lucifer’s chambers, grateful the secret passage was only hidden from the outside. I’d been fed so much shit my eyes were turning brown, and I was sick of it. I hadn’t gotten any real answers since I started searching for the truth about my mother, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t gonna. There wasn’t much point in asking any more.
I sucked in a lungful of warm air as I triggered the portal for Earth. My life had been a series of lies piled upon lies, but at least I had one person I could talk to who never once offered me anything but the truth, no matter how much it hurt to hear it. It was time to go see him.
He certainly wouldn’t start lying to me now.
Chapter Seventeen
It was late afternoon when I arrived at Rest Land Cemetery. The sun was still hidden behind the thick storm clouds that drizzled over top of me as I made my way through the park. Despite the massive deaths caused by the Tree of Life’s temper tantrum, and all the new burials following it, the cemetery was empty of the living. That was good. I needed some peace.
Massive piles of dirt encircled the cemetery property, forming a makeshift wall where the stone one had been erased. I could see from one end of the graveyard to the other, nothing but freshly placed flowers and steel poles set into the ground to mark the edges of the gardens. It was a somber sight.
I made my way over the wet dirt and trailed muddy footprints across the garden, stopping far enough off to make sure Rachelle wasn’t there. Once I was sure she wasn’t, I went to Abraham’s grave and dropped down on the fresh sod, which had been laid to replace the topsoil eaten away during the storms. It was soft. The smell of wet grass filled my nose. The temporary grave marker stood out dark against the brightness of the sod. It was hard to believe Abe had only been gone a few days. It seemed forever.
I ran my hand across the plastic, temporary plate, wiping away the condensation, so I could see Abe’s name. A weight seemed to settle over me as I read it, as though his loss had just found the time to sink in.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the ground. Reality told me there was nothing I could have done to save him from Azrael, but it didn’t stop me from feeling guilty. I could have tried harder, I could have…
I let the thought go. Azrael killed Abe. While I couldn’t protect him, I had at least avenged him. Abe could take comfort in the fact that Azrael joined him in the nothingness left behind by God’s departure.
I rubbed my eyes and let out a hoarse chuckle. Who am I kidding? As much a realist as Abe was, he wouldn’t have been happy with me murdering Azrael, especially not in his name, but the deed had already been done. Sadly, Azrael hadn’t been held accountable for his actions. I hadn’t avenged Abe. I’d only helped his killer escape an eternal lifetime of torment. He wouldn’t have to live on and slowly go insane in the misty confines of Limbo. In my anger, I’d given the angel exactly what he wanted: freedom.
That was all I could take. Frustration overran me and I crumpled to the wet ground. I’d let Abe down, and I’d let Rachelle down; I’d let them all down, and betrayed Scarlett’s faith on top of it all. Baalth had been right. I wasn’t ready; not for anything. There wasn’t any point in pretending I could live up to my uncle’s ideals, or more importantly, to those of Abraham. Once more I was in over my head and there wouldn’t be any getting out it this time. I wasn’t just waving, I was drowning.
I couldn’t even unravel my past, let alone figure out how to prepare for the end of a thousand galaxies. Defeated, I lay there with my head cradled in my hands, letting the rain wash over me.
Move!
Just like it had when Poe snuck up on me in Hell, a flicker of instinct warned me of something headed my way. It had been right then, so I trusted it and rolled away without hesitation. A muffled thump sounded right where my head had been. A puff of grass exploded at Abe’s grave.
I was on my feet and running before the grass fluttered to the ground. It was obvious the DSI had found me again. I could picture Captain Johnson’s face screwed up in an angry snarl and bitching that he missed. He probably wouldn’t the second time. The storms had screwed me by wiping out all the trees and standing headstones I might have used for cover. Now, there was nothing but an open field and a shitload of clear space between me and a bullet in the back.
Then I remembered I had magic.
I willed a shield behind me just as Johnson picked his spot. A bullet slammed into the glistening wall and was reflected away, a wisp of energy marking the spot on my shield that had been hit.
“The head again?” This guy was starting to piss me off. He was good.
My brain kicked in, motivated by the thought of having a fist-sized hole punched in it-again-so I manipulated my shield to cover more of my body and started veering off in random directions. If there was more than just one sniper out there, I didn’t want to make it easy for them to take me out. They could be leading me deeper into the trap.
I kept running, aiming for the housing area, which had escaped the storm that devastated the cemetery. It didn’t make much sense that the DSI had just stumbled across me at Abe’s grave, so they’d likely staked the place
