Daystar (58 page)

“You can’t un-brother him.
 
It doesn’t work that way, and why are you so pissed off at Dahlia?
 
What did
she
ever do to
you?
”

“Lucifer chose her over me.”

“Dude, bros before hoes is a completely unrealistic ideal, just like chicks before dicks.
 
That stuff only works in books and movies.”

“
What?
”

“He wanted to be with his woman, that doesn’t mean Lucifer was casting you aside.”
 
Whitney gaped.
 
“
That’s
why you cast him off!
 
Because you thought he cast you off first!
 
I’m a genius!”

“He did!”
 
Michael grimaced as his wounds tore further.
 
“He threw fire at me.
 
He tried to kill me!”

“His girlfriend had just been imprisoned by his own hand.
 
We call that kind of behavior on Earth temporary insanity.”

“I see nothing temporary about it.”

Whitney folded her arms.
 
“Well, I think you two should talk it out, maybe hug it out too.”

Michael managed to smile slightly.
 
“That would end in one of us dying.”

Whitney moved to his cheek with her needle.
 
“How would you feel if he died?”

“Satisfied.”

“Really?
 
Like…have you actually thought about it?
 
Or do you actually just want to punch him?
 
People often overstate what they want.
 
I bet punching him would be just as satisfying.
 
You guys could have a good old-fashioned brawl and then you could move past it together and go have dinner or watch football.”

“I doubt that.”
 
Michael watched her sew up his cheek.
 
He sighed.
 
“I will be done soon.
 
The pain has been lessening.”

Whitney kept sewing.
 
“And?”

“I do not think I have the strength to raise a hand against you now, but perhaps when you are done I would.”

Whitney slowed her stitches.
 
“Oh?”
 
She frowned.
 
“Oh well, we’ll just see then won’t we.”
 
She kept stitching.

Michael frowned.
 
“You are very odd.”

“Thanks!”
 
Whitney smiled.
 
“I think normal is so boring, kind of like this place, everything looks the same.”
 
She turned his head gently to the side to work on his neck.
 
“Why do you look different?
 
Why do only some of you appear as you are when the rest are creepy clones.”

“I was made by hand.”

“Oh, by the Big G himself.
 
Got it.”

“No.”

Whitney kept her face blank.
 
“No?
 
Were you spontaneously made into existence?”

“No.”
 
Michael shuddered.
 
“Lucifer made me.”

“Interesting.”
 
She kept silent as she finished one cut.
 
She started on another.
 
“So wouldn’t that make Lucifer your creator and not the Big G?
 
Just saying.”
 
She bit on her lower lip.

Michael said nothing.

Whitney pulled more hair out.
 
“And by your logic aren’t you supposed to obey your creator.
 
What they do is right therefore by that train of thought Lucifer defecting was right and you should have gone on with him?
 
Since you were his second or whatever Dahlia called it?”

Michael clenched his jaw.
 
His eyes met hers.
 
“You speak as a silly girl, but your words are insidious.”

Whitney smiled brightly, but said nothing.
 
She hummed and turned his face from side to side.
 
“Looking better, my dear friend.
 
Almost patched up.”

“Do not call me friend.”

Whitney sighed.
 
“Fine, Michael my frenemy.
 
So…”
 
She took his hand.
 
“Are you going to try and whack me around now?”

Michael closed his eyes.
 
“I find my strength has yet to return to me.”

“Ahh, well, in that case I think we can just continue to talk.”

DO NOT.
 
NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR YOUR TERRIBLE VOICE, WHITNEY.

Michael frowned.
 
“I should not encourage you, if I wish to curry favor.”

“You still think you’ll be allowed back in with Big G, super friends once again?
 
Hey, Big G, will you heal Michael?”

Michael settled himself.
 
“He will not answer you.”

Whitney started up her rocks.
 
“Hey!
 
Hey!
 
Hey!
 
Hey!
 
Hey!
 
Hey!”

WHAT?

“Will you heal Michael if he shuts me up?”

THAT PROSPECT IS BECOMING MORE AND MORE APPEALING, BUT IT WOULD NOT MATTER.
 
HE CANNOT SHUT YOU UP.

“But if he did?”

FINE, YES, ANYTHING TO STOP YOUR CHATTERINGS.
 
I WOULD HEAL HIM FOR THAT.

“I’ll stop if you heal him.
 
My sewing is making him feel better, but his wounds are not healing.
 
I can’t do anything about that.
 
Not that you care because you’re a dick and you don’t love anyone here.
 
That’s why I kind of find this confusing, all this obedience, no love.
 
I was always taught that God is love, or that God is fear.
 
It seems to me that those fear guys had it right.
 
There’s nothing love-like in this place.
 
Why do any of you follow him?
 
What is the point?
 
You know that on Earth everyone has a great time.
 
You can do what you want, no one to beat you with a stick if you step out of line.
 
So why don’t you all just defect and join the party on Earth?
 
I promise you’ll have a good time!
 
Eh?
 
Eh?
 
I can go all day, Big G.”

FINE.
 
MICHAEL, YOU ARE RESTORED.

Michael glowed and his body was whole.
 
He gaped at his flesh and pulled at Whitney’s hairs that now sat on his skin like spider webs.
 
He glared at her.
 
“Why?”

“You were hurting.”
 
She smiled.

Michael stood up and staggered, still woozy.
 
He knelt facing the throne.
 
“How may I serve?”

YOU HAVE, SHE HAS STOPPED SPEAKING.

Whitney nodded and dropped to the ground with her mouth shut.
 
She flashed him a toothy grin and lay down on her back.

Michael ignored her.
 
“What is your will now?”

MICHAEL, YOU SERVE NO PURPOSE.
 
I HAVE NO NEED FOR YOU NOW.

Michael cringed and remained kneeling.
 
“Then what should I do?”

END YOURSELF DOING SOMETHING USEFUL.
 
KILLING YOUR BROTHER WOULD BE A WORTHY WAY TO DIE.

Michael bowed his head.
 
“As you command.”

***

Bean and Jegudiel walked along the rooftops of Eden.
 
She kept ahead and leapt up onto the terracotta roof of a taller building.
 
Jegudiel followed her.
 
The sun began its quick descent towards the horizon and painted the city in burning colors.
 
Jegudiel wished he could enjoy the view, but he was nervous.

Bean was conscious of him following behind.
 
She concentrated on thinking about something adult to talk about that did not involve drugs, sex, alcohol, or partying.
 
Bean found it difficult.
 
She switched tracks and thought like Furcas.
 
“You look good in those corduroy pants, they’re your color.”

Jegudiel flinched and looked down at his pants.
 
“I would like to keep them on.
 
Thanks.”

Bean blushed.
 
“I didn’t mean it like that!
 
I mean…you just have a knack for what you wear.”
 
She turned away and kicked at the roof.
 
Shit
.
 

She hopped across tile and jumped onto the lip of a fat chimney.
 
She looked into the sky.
 
“It was very sunny today!”
 
She smiled, that was safe.

Jegudiel nodded cautiously.
 
His defenses were up.
 
“Yes, it was.”

Bean smiled.
 
“Not a cloud to see!
 
It would be nice to fly while the sun was setting.”

Jegudiel leaned on another chimney and looked up at her.
 
“Bean.”

Bean turned to him and blushed.
 
“Yes?”

His muscles twitched.
 
“You’re not going to try and assault me again are you?
 
That is not why you wanted to go with me?”

“No!”
 
She shook her head.
 
“I’m very sorry for that!”

He frowned.
 
“Good, it was very inappropriate of you to do.”

“I know.
 
I’m really sorry.
 
Seriously.”
 
She met his gaze.
 
“Do you accept my apology?”

“No.”
 
Jegudiel looked away.
 
“Not yet at least.
 
I have to know that you mean it, that this is not a trick.”

Bean struggled to hide her hurt feelings.
 
“I understand.
 
I’m in the untrustworthy box.”
 
Jegudiel frowned and scratched his bare chest, drawing her eyes over.
 
She blinked and looked away.
 
She bit her lip; she couldn’t help it.
 
She wanted to get close to him in every way.
 
Bean sat on the chimney and gripped the stone underneath her.
 
It broke off beneath her fingers.
 
Her heart pounded.
 
“So, uhm.”

Jegudiel watched her.
 
She looked pale.
 
Concern unwanted and unbidden arose.
 
“Something ails you.
 
Should we return home?
 
Do you need me to get Raphael?”
 
He regretted speaking after he did.
 
He shut out those feelings.

“Nothing ails me, I’m perfectly fine.”
 
Bean controlled the level of her voice.
 
“Only maybe you could put a shirt on?”

Jegudiel ground his teeth.
 
Anger flared up and he glared at her.
 
“Are you that bad that you cannot control yourself at the sight of bare skin?
 
Should I ready myself for another attack from you?
 
You will not succeed.”
 
He balled his hands into fists.

“No, no, I’m sorry.”
 
Bean looked at anything but him.
 
“You are pleasing to look upon.
 
You should take it as a compliment.
 
That is all that I mean it as.”

His eye ticked.
 
“I thought better of you, Bean.”

She gulped.
 
“I…I’m sorry.
 
I’m trying, I really am.”

Jegudiel wrapped his wings around his body.
 
Her trembling was visible from where he stood.
 
Her features were unguarded.
 
She was open again, vulnerable, just as he had been in the bathroom.
 
She
was the weak one now, while he was strong and had the power.
 
Jegudiel’s fists clenched in time with his pulse; he would not give that up to her.
 
It was
his
power now and he intended to keep it by any means that he had to.
 
He chose his words carefully.
 
“I am surprised by you, Bean.”

“Surprised at what?”

“That you dally here with me when I will not give in to you.”
 
He put Furcas’ words out of his mind.
 
“There are plenty in this city who would lay with you despite yourself.”

Bean’s wings blurred, lifting her from the rooftop.
 
“What?”