Daystar (10 page)

Michael watched and smiled.
 
Uriel broke Lucifer against the ground.
 
Michael did not want to release Dahlia.
 
He wanted to kill her, but he remained under compulsion.
 
He stabbed Dahlia instead and threw her to Berith.
 
“Take your trash back.”
 
He pointed the spear towards Lucifer.
 
“Stand.”

Lucifer stood.
 
Blood poured out of his mouth in a steady stream.
 
He looked at Dahlia.
 
Berith held her against him.
 
Lucifer swallowed blood.
 
“I love you.”

Dahlia reached for him, but she was too weak to speak.
 
She touched her chest instead.
 
Tears poured down her face.

Michael looked to Raphael, Selaphiel, and Jegudiel.
 
“When we leave, go to the machine above.
 
Find Gabriel, heal him, and make him restart the weapon.
 
Return once this place has been obliterated.
 
I leave the hosts with you to insure that the Fallen do not attack you when we leave.”

Belial snarled.
 
“You seek to still wipe us out!”
 

Michael sneered.
 
“Of course.”
 
He smiled at Lucifer.
 
“I am glad he is the one that we will get to keep in Heaven.
 
I always wanted him over her.”
 
He leaned in to Lucifer.
 
“She will die regardless and you will suffer knowing you left her here to that.
 
You always make the wrong choice, Lucifer.
 
You never think about what you do.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened.
 
He jumped, but Michael speared him through the chest.
 
“Do not break another promise, another deal.
 
Not this time.”
 
Michael grabbed Lucifer’s wrist.
 
He jumped into the air, vanishing as he reached space.
 

Uriel sneered at the rest, his eyes lingering on Belial.
 
“If you come with me, I will keep you safe.”

Belial held on to Andy.
 
“I’d rather die!”

Uriel shrugged.
 
“Then die.”
 
He followed Michael.

Dahlia sagged against Berith.
 
She stared at the spot Lucifer had stood.
 
She looked at his blood on the ground.
 
She felt him enter Heaven, felt the searing light on his skin.
 
She screamed and sank to the ice.
 
The blood loss and shock were too much; she fell unconscious.

***

Michael and Uriel arrived back in the Hall of the Throne, carrying Lucifer between them.
 
They tossed him to the ground and shared a smile of victory.

Lucifer raised his hand to his eyes.
 
The light shined too bright, too harsh.
 
He blinked and strained to see.
 
His eyes filled with stinging tears.
 
The scars on his back ached.
 
He was here, home after an eternity and it sickened him.

Michael kicked Lucifer to Uriel.

Uriel drove his foot into Lucifer’s face sending him back towards Michael.
 
Michael grabbed Lucifer.
 
He brought him to his feet and forced him to look up.
 
“Heaven welcomes you!
 
Our Primangel at last returned.”
 
He lifted Lucifer into the air.
 
“Hail Lucifer Morningstar!”

Legion of angel gaped at their fallen Primangel.
 
The faces of the older reflected fear and hatred, the younger angels looked on in curiosity, having only heard of him in story.
 
Each of them shined like a star in the sky.
 
The song they sang, once melodious to Lucifer’s ears, now sounded wrong.
 
The vibrations hurt instead of pleased.
 
Lucifer’s light was a muted pale blue compared to theirs; he was a wound in the perfection of light around him.
 
The angels hissed and bared teeth and fangs.
 
Their song quieted.

Uriel grinned at the agony on Lucifer’s face.
 
“This hurts him.”

Michael shrugged and stared at Lucifer.
 
“This will seem as pleasure compared to what he will endure.”

Lucifer clenched his teeth.
 
“Get it over with.”

“And ruin our fun?
 
I think not.”
 
Michael slammed Lucifer into the ground.
 
He kept a hold of one arm.
 
He placed his foot at Lucifer’s elbow.
 
“I owe you for so much pain.”
 
Michael stomped, breaking his arm.
 

Uriel stepped on his lower back.
 
Lucifer heard something snap and break, he clawed on the ground.
 
In this place, in this form, he could not heal and he had no strength.
 
He was at the mercy of those around him.

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut; he bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out.
 
He would endure this.
 
He would survive.
 
They would not kill him, just make him suffer, he knew this.
 
Dahlia was not here and for that, he could bear this.

The thought of Dahlia brought a new kind of agony to him.
 
If Michael was right, the planet would be destroyed and her with it.
 
He struggled to stand, but the light around him leeched what strength he had left.
 
The spear wound in his chest was disabling.
 
Lucifer curled over; he had no force to make good an escape, no power to match the anger he felt.

His spirit raged inside his broken body.
 
Flames licked his skin seeking release.
 
Lucifer caught a glimpse of it, the raw energy he had once possessed.
 
He reached out blindly towards the brightness, the light, willing it to be his again.

Michael lifted Lucifer and threw him towards Dahlia’s vacated prison.
 
Lucifer bounced and rolled.
 
His head smacked against the metal plates that used to house her body.
 
Blood ran into his eyes.
 
He looked up blurrily.

The throne seared the sky with white fire, watching and waiting.

Anger burned in Lucifer’s stomach.
 
He leapt at the throne.
 
A body of wings and heat smashed into him, sending him back down to the floor.
 
A whip slashed across his face, raising a bleeding welt.
 
The whip struck a second time and drew out his flame.
 
The feeling of power fled.
 
He was weak once more.
 
He raised his eyes.

An unfamiliar Archangel stared down at him, tall with silver eyes and black hair.
 
The Archangel smiled mirthlessly and readied the whip to attack if he moved.

Michael and Uriel stared, surprised to the see the new Archangel.
 
Michael reclaimed his spear and appraised the newcomer.
 
“Your name?”

The Archangel bowed.
 
“Samuel.”

Michael nodded.
 
“Are you a new creation or a sibling?”

“I believe I have a brother among the Fallen.”

Lucifer blinked back blood and the similarities became clear to him.
 
The Archangel was a younger, colder version of Andrealphus.
 
Samuel flicked the whip into the air, his hands a blur.
 
He was as fast as Andrealphus as well.

TO REPLACE BARACHIEL, THIS ONE WAS CREATED.

Samuel looked down at Lucifer dispassionately.
 
“Are we killing him?”

Michael shook his head.
 
“Killing no, hurting yes.”

Samuel recalled his whip.
 
He bowed to Michael.
 
“I will do as you require.”

Michael nodded.
 
“Hold him.”

Samuel lifted Lucifer to his feet; he bent Lucifer’s arms at angles that threatened to dislocate his shoulders.
 
Michael hooked a finger in the remnants of clothing and armor that Lucifer wore, he tore them off leaving Lucifer naked.
 
Michael looked his older brother up and down.
 
He gouged him between the ribs.

Lucifer forced himself not to cry out.
 
He smelled his own skin burning; fire rushed through his insides.
 

Michael twisted and pulled the spear from Lucifer’s body, leaving a gaping hole.
 
He tossed the spear from hand to hand, deciding where to stab Lucifer next.

Lucifer raised his head, noticing Michael’s indecision.
 
“You never were good at making your own choices.
 
It seems you still are not.”

Michael punched him in the face.
 
“I did not say you could speak.”

Lucifer gasped.
 
“I am not yours to order.”

Michael grabbed Lucifer’s chin.
 
“You will do as
I
say now.”
 
He cracked the bone underneath his hand.
 
“I am in charge.”

Lucifer spit out teeth.
 
“Then why are you not Primangel in my stead?”

Michael roared and kneed Lucifer in the stomach.
 
Samuel let Lucifer drop as Michael brought a fist down on Lucifer’s neck.
 
Lucifer’s world went dark, and he passed into a merciful unconscious state as the beating continued.

***

Dahlia’s eyes fluttered open.
 
She looked into Gaea’s face.
 
Dahlia jumped to her feet, she swayed.
 
Gaea grabbed for her.
 
“Mom, you need to rest.
 
Your energy has been drained from the healing.”

Dahlia threw Gaea’s arms off her with force, but not violence.
 
She darted away.
 
She skidded on the ice and looked over her body.
 
She was whole and healed, physically at least.
 
She held out her arms to steady herself and keep everyone at bay.
 
Dahlia sucked in air and looked around.

Angels thronged in the air above, but none attacked.
 
They waited.
 

The Lilliam soldiers had gone into the ground, anticipating an attack from the shield.
 
They sought the refuge of the City.
 
Only the royalty remained above ground.
 
All of Dahlia’s eight children were there on the surface.
 

Andrealphus and Belial leaned on one another; haggard in appearance, but healed.
 
Helion stood with Whitney; their arms around Paimon.
 
Paimon was unconscious.
 
Berith limped over with Apple in his arms.
 
She was stuck in a comatose state, her eyes bled.
 

Dahlia’s vision blurred.
 
She raised a hand to her cheeks and touched her face.
 
She pulled her hands back.
 
Bloody tears ran down her cheeks.
 

She turned to the snow drenched in Lucifer’s blood.
 
She raised her eyes.
 
Selaphiel, Raphael, and Jegudiel stood near the blood.
 
All three wore pendants, impervious and healed.
 
She stalked towards them.
 
“Fuckers!”

Belial grabbed her wrist.
 
“Do not, Dahlia!”

Dahlia threw Belial off her.
 
She stood before the three defiantly.
 
“What now?
 
Will you simply watch again and do nothing while we
suffer?
”

The Archangels said nothing.

Dahlia swept past them to the spot where Michael had driven his spear into Lucifer.
 
She plunged her hands into the blood he had left on the ground.
 
She brought the bloody ice to her face.
 
She wiped it in streaks across her cheeks and hair.
 
She painted herself in it.
 
The patterns mirrored the ones her angelic body had possessed.

Raphael cocked his head and watched, intrigued.
 
He gestured to Jegudiel.
 
“Go to the machine now as Michael ordered.”

Jegudiel nodded, but kept his eyes on Dahlia.
 
“Do we fire now or—”

Raphael grabbed his wrist.
 
“Tend to Gabriel and wait.
 
Do not fire.”

Jegudiel saluted and jumped into the air.

Belial sneered.
 
“When did they start taking orders from the baby of the group?”