to lead.
“Seth,” she whispered.
Chapter 71
Lucifer approached the lone figure waiting by the water, crimson robes billowing about her. Innate caution kept his gaze roving the deserted land and seascape, but he saw no other presence, angelic or otherwise. Felt nothing amiss. His hand closed over the folded note handed to him by one of the Fallen a few minutes before. He was still reeling from its receipt. Heaven’s Highest Seraph, requesting an audience with him.
Not even demanding.
Requesting.
He reached the angel at the sea’s edge and stood beside her. “You wanted to see me.”
“Yes. Thank you for coming.”
He raised an eyebrow. Shot another suspicious look at their surroundings. “Please and thank you. Not words I ever expected to hear from the Highest Seraph.”
“She’s dying, Lucifer.”
Shock threatened to drop him to his knees before he shook it off.
The Highest Seraph turned to him, her face lined with weariness, worry, despair. His shock returned, ricocheting through his soul with the speed of an Archangel’s sword and wreaking nearly as much damage. He staggered, caught himself, managed to remain upright. He was the Light-bearer. He would not fall before one of Heaven.
“I don’t believe you,” he said.
Destroy herself in the process of ending him, perhaps, but
“She can, and she is.”
“But—
“Seth. The powers he gave up were damaging the Earth. Controlling them, stabilizing them, took everything she had.”
“He took his powers back. We all felt it. She’ll recover.”
The Seraph shook her head. “I hoped for that, too, but it’s getting worse. She’s . . . fading. She doesn’t have much time left, and she no longer has the ability to do what she’d hoped.”
“To what, lead Heaven against me?” he snarled. “You think I’m going to feel bad about that?”
“She wanted to bind with you.”
It wasn’t the response he’d expected. It wasn’t even within the realm of what he might have imagined.
“
“She never stopped missing you, Lucifer. You are her Light-bearer, her helpmeet, her other half. There was—is—no other way she can be with you again.”
Odd, how difficult it had become to breathe. He flared his nostrils. Narrowed his eyes. Regarded the Seraph with suspicion. “What exactly are you asking of me, Seraph?”
“I’m asking you to do what she cannot.”
“Give up my fight, you mean?” He gave a bark of laughter. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Did Mika’el put you up to this? Or was it she herself?”
“Neither of them knows I’ve come to you, and it’s not about giving up the fight, it’s about understanding that there is no more fight. Not for you, and not for her.” Her pale blue eyes regarded him steadily, sadly, seeing far more of him than he would have liked. “Everything you’ve done, everything you are—all of it is because of the love you bear for her. Because you hope—have always hoped—that she would see her folly and return you to her side. But now—Lucifer, if she dies without you now, you’ll have lost one another for eternity.”
The words, stark and untempered, drove the wind from him as nothing else could have done. He walked away, to the very edge of the water washing onto the sand in slow, rhythmic waves. It was a trick. It had to be a trick, because it couldn’t be real. The One couldn’t simply stop existing.
But if he believed, even for an instant, that the Highest Seraph told the truth, that she might be right—
A great, shuddering breath rose in him. He had to know. Had to see for himself. Then he would decide what to do. He turned back to the crimson-robed angel who waited.
“The Archangels?”
“Patrolling the Hellfire, but I have sent for Mika’el.”
He looked out over the water again. There would be risks. A chance that the Seraph lied to him, that this was all an elaborate trap. He examined his heart to see if the knowledge changed anything. It did not. He still needed to know.
“Understand that I make no promises,” he said.
The Highest Seraph nodded. “I know.”
Chapter 72
Lucifer paused on the top step of the One’s quarters and looked back over his shoulder at the gathering— and hostile—masses. Verchiel had assured him no one else would know of his presence here, but they had both underestimated the angelic grapevine. Within seconds of a startled Virtue crossing their path outside the rose garden, hundreds had blocked their route—grim-faced, silent, accusatory, giving way to the Highest Seraph’s authority only with great reluctance.
“Do they know?” he asked Verchiel. “That she’s . . . ?”
The Highest Seraph shook her head. “Not yet.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And do you not think you should tell them they’ll be without their Creator soon? If I were in charge—”
“You’re not.” Steady blue eyes met his. “Be very clear on that, Light-bearer. You are here for the One. Nothing else.”
Her hands twisted into the fabric of her robe, at odds with the confidence in her voice. Lucifer waited for the surge of enjoyment at knowing he inspired such disquiet, but he felt nothing. Nothing except an overwhelming desire to be home. Not home like this—he looked beyond the gathering of angels to the lush gardens and woods —but home with the One whose very life spark he shared. Had always shared. He held his hands out, palms forward, in a gesture of conciliation.
“Forgive me, Highest. Old habits die hard. Shall we?”
Several seconds passed before she stepped clear of the door and pulled one hand from the crimson folds. “After you.”
He preceded her into their Creator’s simply furnished abode, taking a moment on the threshold to let his eyes adjust to the dimness. Verchiel’s light touch against his back moved him forward, guided him toward the windows on the far side of the room, pressed him on when he would have stopped because his heart had already done so.
She sat in one of a pair of wingback chairs angled before the window, the light enveloping her body. Her eyes were closed, her hands folded in her lap, her face serene. Her demeanor spoke of one who waited, and his breath caught, rough and scraping in his suddenly constricted chest. He searched for but could not find his voice, and cleared his throat instead.
Silver eyes opened. Smiled. And instantly glowed with love.
Lucifer dropped to his knees before her and took her hands in his. Shock rippled through him at their fragility.
“Lucifer,” she said. “Bearer of light and my truth. It is good to see you.”
