Personal Demons 2 - Original Sin (23 page)

“I'm not lying,” I lie. I rub the back of my head. “She has nothing to do with it. It was the angel.”

His eyes flare red. “He told me it wasn't him.”

I feel suddenly cold, despite my demonic heat. Is Matt in Hell? Is he working with them—or, rather,
us
now? If so, Frannie's in even more danger than I thought. I work to keep my voice even. “And you believed him?”

“Angels can't lie.”

And then I realize the truth: Matt was colluding with Rhen…“Before he fell,” I say, more to myself than to him.

He presses me hard into the wall, and a slow smile curves his lips. “Let's just say he was no fan of yours.”

The knowledge of how far Matt was willing to go to get rid of me makes me more sad than angry. I slump into the wall.

He glares a moment longer, then releases me. “Well, it doesn't matter. Now there's nothing stopping you from phasing back with me.” He shakes his head. “It's bad, Lucifer. You didn't just screw up. This is treason.”

“I know.” I step forward, hands in the air as if surrendering.

“You're not going to fight?” A disappointed scowl twists his face, which shouldn't surprise me. He
is
a creature of wrath. Fighting's what he does. “What the Hell happened to you?”

Frannie's face floats in front of my eyes.
Everything
…“Nothing.”

“So, you're going to come with me, just like that?”

As I stare at the wall, Frannie's face evaporates. She doesn't want me. Even though that's what I wanted, the thought is like a knife to my brimstone heart.

I may not be able to commit suicide, but I know the next best thing. “Let's go.”

Hell hasn't changed, but I have. I used to laugh when I said you can take the demon out of Hell, but you can't take Hell out of the demon. I was wrong. And it's not at all funny.

Everything I see as I look around the place that was my home for seven thousand years repulses me—makes me hate what I am and yearn for what I was with Frannie. But that's not me. It wasn't real. And I can't ever go back.

Rhenorian has brought me directly to the Fiery Pit. I stand in my human form, back to a charred wooden post, arms chained overhead. As far as I can see, the hungry eyes of the legions of Hell—my infernal brethren—study me. I look around at the sea of faces, many leering, red eyes glowing, faces eager for the impending show.

“Good turnout,” I mumble under my breath.

Rhenorian stands at a cautious distance. “It's a
Diktat.
”

My stomach drops. A Diktat. All of Hell is mandated to be here. I'm meant to be a public display. An example will be made of me. Which means this is not going to be a quick sentencing and execution.

But why?
Who in Hell would chose my path—even if they could? I glance across the roiling orange and gold surface of the Lake of Fire to Flame Island and the hulking black mass of the castle Pandemonium. Then, as if summoned by my gaze, King Lucifer appears before me, also in His usual human form: glowing green eyes housed in a sharp, angular face, and a tall, powerful build cloaked in long red robes. Very Zeus-like.

Rhenorian backs off and melts into the crowd as Lucifer walks up to within a foot of me, staring into my eyes. I clench my teeth so hard I feel one of them crack, and try not to let the pain show on my face as His power ravages me—searching out the last vestiges of my humanity. When He releases me, I blow out a shaky breath.

A heinous grin slides over His face. “Commendable, Lucifer. That couldn't have been comfortable.”

I clench my teeth again and look straight ahead without answering.

He signals to the crowd, and three thuggish demons, two with ranseurs and one with a cat-o'-nine-tails—part of Rhenorian's security crew, no doubt—step out of the drooling masses. Behind them, in the roiling velvet shadows, there is something else—more of a presence than an actual form. Whatever it is seems to exist just at the edge of perception. It shimmers in and out of focus as I try to get a fix on it, until I'm convinced it's nothing but a trick of the light—an illusion. But then the demons part and the thing moves between them. I catch a fleeting glimpse of something impossibly black, as if it were devouring all light from around it.

As the Mage steps up to Lucifer's side, it takes on solid form: dark as a void with the exception of its red eyes. And long, with limbs that seem to serve no purpose protruding from its twisted, sticklike body. Mages exist in the plane between conscious and unconscious and can manifest physically only in the presence of their creator—Lucifer.

The fact that it's here can mean only one thing. I steel my mind and wipe it clean of anything to do with Frannie. I focus on memories from before I even knew she existed and pray it's enough to keep her safe.

A sad smile flits across Lucifer's face. “It didn't need to be this way.” His expression becomes pensive and He brings a long finger to His lips, tapping it there. “It still doesn't.” He falls back and paces a wide circle around the pole I'm chained to, then steps up to me with His face just inches from mine. “If you tell me what I want to know,” He says, His voice a quiet rasp, “I won't have to send anyone in there to get it.” He presses a scorching finger to my temple.

I watch as the Mage leers, exposing a mouthful of red fangs set in its sharp, black face.

Lucifer steps back and regards me. “It's now or never. Make your choice.”

I grit my teeth and hold His gaze.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, He sighs and shakes His head. “I'm going to get what I want one way or the other. I don't understand why you'd want to make this harder on yourself than it needs to be.” He waves a hand toward the Mage and paces another circle.

The Mage's leer widens as it holds its hand out toward me, and I groan with the effort of keeping it out. It's no use, though. I feel it in my head, searching through my thoughts and memories, and I know who it's looking for. I fight to think of anything but her, going back to my earliest memories—my days working the Gates with the Hellhound, Barghest. I focus hard on that. But the memory of Barghest brings me back to how he saved Frannie from Beherit. I try harder to block the memory of her, but the harder I try, the more she's there.

That's all it needs. I see the satisfaction in its face as it connects to her. I groan, because I know what that means. It's pulled her out of my head, and now it's gotten into hers. Mages are the demonic embodiment of a nightmare. It'll haunt her dreams, and through them, it'll show her things. Her dreams are also its window into her world. It'll see what she does—
know
what she does. And, worse, while it's in there, Lucifer can follow it into her head.

No!

I fight harder to push it out, but it's still in my head when it raises one clawed hand to rake slowly through the air. I bite my tongue and grimace as four burning gashes appear across my chest, tearing my T-shirt to shreds. I know it's not real—that it's all in my mind—and I keep telling myself that, but it may as well be real for the pain I feel. Its maniacal grin stretches wider as I fight to push it out.

Lucifer finishes His circle and fixes me in His inquisitive gaze. “You're such a unique case. I can't help but be curious. You understand, I'm sure.”

So that's it. I'm to be a lab rat. He'll tear me apart, little by little, mentally and physically, looking for answers, but also showing all of Hell what happens to traitors. Killing two birds with one stone.

Suddenly, He's on me again, and I brace myself against the inevitable pain. But, instead, He presses into me, and all I feel is His scorching breath in my ear. “I know what she is, and I'm going to have her, Lucifer. She was mine in the Beginning and she'll be mine again. There's nothing you can do to stop me.”

What does he mean…she was His in the Beginning? Cold dread creeps through me, and my brimstone heart crumbles into a thousand grains of sand.

Dark ideas fill His eyes. “Change, Lucifer.”

I've never before been able to disobey His direct command, but I find myself resisting. Some deep part of me doesn't want to change, doesn't want to take my demon form. I search that part out, and my legs buckle when I find the root of it. Because it's Frannie that I see: the piece of her I carry in my heart. The piece of her that's also me, and the piece of me that's unwilling to let go of her.

This is who I want to be. Who I was when I was with her. If I shed this shell—the one I wore with her—the one that touched her—what will happen? What if the memory of what it was to be with her is locked in
this
shell? If I slough it off, I may lose that memory forever. It will be gone, and I'm terrified that I'll never be able to get it back. That memory is all that makes my existence tolerable.

“No.”

A collective gasp issues from the minions, and His eyes widen in disbelief. The next instant, a thousand bolts of lightning are coursing through me. I cry out and slump against the pole when they finally stop. A low hiss ripples through the gathered crowd.

King Lucifer's demon form rips through His human shell, and He stands in front of me in His full Hellish glory. He pierces me with burning green eyes set in sharp angular features in His beyond-black skin. My brimstone heart pounds as He unfolds His batlike wings and spreads them, surrounding us in a leathery black cocoon, blocking out all sound and light. As those wings wrap around me, evil rolls off Him in waves, drowning me with dark ideas and depraved thoughts.

His voice is a raw hiss. “What did you say?”

I dig deep and find Frannie again—my strength. “No. I said no.”

This time, the force of His power is unbearable—unfiltered Hellfire ripping through my body and destroying everything in its path. The last thing I hear before everything fades into agonizing black is my own scream.

Frannie

The sheets are hopelessly tangled around me, and my heart hammers in my chest as my own scream wakes me from my restless sleep. There was lightning in my head, but it was different this time.

It felt good.

My scream wasn't a scream of agony. It was ecstasy.

Luc.

I felt him—his dark, shadowy energy—when I was in Boston last week with Riley. I even thought I saw him, for just an instant, at the Starbucks—and smelled his cinnamon. He's been with me every day since then, a feeling I just can't shake, tugging at that deep place in my heart that can't seem to let him go.

And he was in my dream too. I felt the lightning in my head as I was doing horrible things to Luc, torturing him. Snakes. Claws. Fire. And he was screaming, every scream sending another bolt of excruciating pleasure through my brain.

Oh, God—I liked it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

But as my head spins, making me feel sick, I realize that it wasn't really me. The person torturing Luc in my dream was someone else. Someone shadowy—without form or face. I was watching through their eyes as Luc screamed—feeling their bloodlust—and I reveled in it.

A shiver rushes through me and I roll for the trash can next to the bed, afraid I'm gonna throw up. But I don't. I groan and fall back into my pillows as the door cracks open.

Dad pokes his head in. “Frannie, honey? Are you okay?” When he sees me, hair stuck to my sweaty face, shaking, he comes in and kneels by the bed.

I try to breathe my pulse down, but it doesn't work. I look behind me, expecting to find Gabe in the bed, but he's not here.
I need him.
I look up at Dad. “Yeah, sorry. Just a dream.” My voice breaks and he doesn't buy it.

His expression is heartbroken as he squeezes my shoulder. “I know it's been a rough few weeks….”

“I'm really okay, Dad.” I prop up onto my elbow. “Or at least I will be.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“No. I'm good. Thanks.” I drop back onto my pillow and try to smile. I'm sure I don't fool him, but he sighs and turns for the door.

“Call if you need me.”

“Sure, Dad.”

The door clicks shut behind him and I let loose the tears I'd been holding back. I roll and bury my face in the pillow to muffle the sobs. Then a hand rubs my back and I'm flooded in cool winter sunshine. I sit up on the bed and look at Gabe, where he sits on the edge.

“Where were you?”

“There was something I needed to take care of.”

“Luc…I dreamed—”

“I know.”

The ache in my core forces me to ask. I have to know. “What was that? What I saw?”

The midnight shadows don't hide the concern lining his face, but he doesn't answer.

My heart thrums against the weight pressing down on my chest, and I can't draw a breath. “Gabe—?”

“I'm working on it, Frannie,” he snaps.

He's never talked to me like that before. Something's seriously wrong. I feel terror rip through every cell of my body. “Working on what? Where's Luc?”

He hesitates. “In Hell.”

The room swims. I can't breathe. The lightning in my head—it was real. I look him in the eye. “He's…dead?”

“Not technically.”

“Oh, God! Just tell me what's going on!”

He breathes a heavy sigh. “He's a demon, Frannie.”

It's like a punch to the gut, knocking all the wind out of me. “A demon…in Hell.” I look up at him. “He went back?”

Gabe's eyes are sad as he nods.

“Why would he go back?”

He smooths a hand over my cheek. “Guess he didn't think he had much reason to stay here anymore.”

I press into him and let him work my heart rate back down to something resembling normal. “So he's gone…for real.”

“I'm working on some things to bring him back.”

I settle deeper into him and breathe against the hole in my chest, trying to fill it. And I do feel it fill—with rage. It bubbles up inside me until I feel myself shaking with it. I've just started to get to the point where the thought of Luc doesn't crush my heart. It's been so hard, but I knew I needed to get over him.

But he went back. Without a second thought.

I push away from Gabe. “Don't bring him back here for me.”

Those blue eyes pierce mine to my soul as he reaches up and strokes my cheek with his thumb. His eyes storm, swirling darker, but somehow still bright. And then his lips are on mine, so gentle, but desperate at the same time.

I taste his cool winter sunshine and it explodes through me, lighting up the darkness in my core. I'm blanketed in summer snow, putting out the fire of my rage. I press harder into him, deepening our kiss, needing more.

He stiffens, which brings me back to my senses.

“I don't want you,” I whisper into his lips, trying to mean it.

He presses his forehead into mine. “I know.” I feel him shudder as he pulls away. “This is so hard.”

“I'm sorry. I'm trying not to…” What? I'm trying not to want him, I guess. But he makes it impossible not to love him.

He pulls me to his shoulder, and he's shaking. “I'm bringing him back for both of us,” he says. “I love you….”

The butterflies that had been tickling my stomach explode in a flurry. I breathe them back, then pull out of his arms and look into his beautiful blue eyes. “I love you too.”

His smile is sad. “…but I can't have you. You belong with Luc.” He stands and walks to the door. I'll be right here,” he says, opening it. “Call me if you need me.” He vanishes as he passes through into the hall.

“I need you,” I whisper after him.

I drop back into the pillows, determined not to fall asleep again, and lie here watching the moonlit shadows dancing on my ceiling. I trace my burning lips with my finger, trying not to want Gabe…or worry about Luc.

Luc

Lucifer continues to pace wide circles around the post I'm still hanging from, scrutinizing me from every angle.

I've lost track of time. It's impossible to tell how long I've been chained here. What I do know is that Lucifer usually likes to drag things out, and in this case, no doubt He'll leave me hanging here for months. Maybe years.

He steps up to me, His leathery face in mine, and I steel myself for another round. “Change!” He roars.

I hang my head in exhaustion and glance at the red gashes across my chest. Gashes that would be bleeding if I were still human, but burn like acid nonetheless. They're everywhere—on my legs, my back. The Hound circles the post a safe distance behind Lucifer, snapping and snarling. He brought the Hounds in when He decided I needed to be a more “visual” example for the masses.

But the Mage still stands, grinning. Waiting.

I wince against the inevitable pain my response will invoke. “No.”

Lucifer sighs and snaps His fingers. The Hound's teeth are in my shoulder, tearing at my flesh, the venom sending searing pain down my spine. I wish for each slash to kill me, but I know it's not going to be that merciful.

I feel my resolve slip as pain shoots through every cell of my body. “Okay,” I growl through clenched teeth. I try to lift my head, but it weighs a thousand pounds.

Lucifer whistles and the Hound backs off. I sink against the post, twisting in the hand shackles and pressing my forehead into the charred wood. He stares at me, waving His hand impatiently in my direction with a raised eyebrow.

I screw my eyes shut, as if not seeing myself change will make a difference, and focus on holding on to that piece of Frannie in my heart. But just as I'm about to push off my human form, the acrid air swirls and bright white light cuts through the rolling indigo shadows.

The last thing I hear as I'm yanked through time and space in a dizzying rush is Lucifer's roar.

I come to in a soft bed covered in white sheets. In a white room. With white furniture.

Gabriel's. It's got to be.

I pull the sheet aside and examine myself. The wounds in my chest and arms are severe, but healing—one upside of being a demon. But the memory of the burn is still there—a deep, uncomfortable tingle.

I swing around and sit on the edge of the bed, and my head swims.

But then it really hits me. I'm at Gabriel's. Someone had enough pull—
Sway
—to drag me out of Hell. Right out from under King Lucifer.

I feel unsteady again. “Frannie,” I whisper.

I know I shouldn't hope for it, but I can't help myself. I spring off the bed and stagger, then catch my balance and reach for the clothes in the white armchair near the bed. I pull on the jeans and T-shirt Gabriel left for me and bolt out the door and down the stairs on unsteady legs.

Gabriel is sprawled on the couch in the living room, one leg propped on the armrest, squinting at a copy of Stephen King's
The Stand.

“You should really look into reading glasses.” I glance eagerly around the room for Frannie, but it's just the two of us. Gabriel rests the open book across his knee and watches me in silence as I stumble over my feet on the way to the chair under the window and drop into it. “So, what happened?”

He cocks half a smile. “It's a very long story.”

I lean forward, elbows on knees. “Seeing as I seem to be immortal again, I've got all the time you need.”

“We found a loophole.”

I glare at him. “As far as long stories go, that one seems a bit lacking.”

He shifts uneasily on the couch. “That small portion of your essence that's still a human soul belongs to us, so we exercised our claim to it. Of course, there are always politics involved. It took me a while to convince Him to intervene—Michael was no help on that front—because we had to step on a lot of toes getting you out of there.”

My heart sinks and I sag back into the chair, dropping my gaze to the carpet, because I thought…

“It wasn't Frannie.” I say it out loud to make it real—to confirm it to myself. I was wrong to hope she'd changed her mind and used her Sway to save me.

He confirms what I already know when he hesitates before answering. “No, it wasn't.”

So that's it. Frannie is done with me for good.

Acid rises in my throat and I swallow it back, but I hear it in my voice nonetheless. “So, you saved my sorry ass once again.”

“Not keeping score, dude.”

I sigh. “Why'd you bother?”

“I needed your help.” He puts the book down and smirks at me. “Imagine my surprise when I came looking for you and found you in
Hell.
”

“You should have left me there.”

He sinks back into the cushions and blows out a long sigh. “Frannie needs you.”

“She does. She needs me
gone
, and the Fiery Pit is about as gone as I can get.”

He pulls himself out of the couch and walks to the window. “It looked like Lucifer had bigger and better things in mind for you,” he says, staring out at nothing.

“Doesn't matter. It wasn't anything I didn't deserve.”

“You're as bad as Frannie, wanting to take the blame for everything that happens.”

“The difference is that most of it
is
my fault.” I screw my eyes shut against the image of Frannie's haunted face and haul myself out of the chair. “You should have left me,” I say, heading for the door.

“Couldn't. I'm serious about needing your help. Frannie's in trouble, Luc.” A guilty shadow darkens his features as his eyes drop to his fidgeting hands. “She's a mess, and I'm not sure I'm not making it worse.”

I turn and look at him, into his tortured eyes. He's about to cave. Even though he'd never admit it to me, he's in love with her. And he didn't stop loving her when he was gone and she was with me, which means it has nothing to do with her Sway. But now that Frannie wants him…

I bark out a humorless laugh. This is rich. “You pulled me out of Hell to run interference?”

“She belongs with you,” he says, his voice laced with pain. “You're the only one who understands what's at stake. She needs your support.”

“She has you,” I smirk, “an honest-to-God angel. What could she possibly want with me?”

“I can't…” He trails off. “I didn't think this could happen. That I could…” He stares hard at me. “I'm a Dominion. You know what happens if I lose my wings.”

I can't have this conversation. “You should have thought of that before you fell in love with her.” I try to phase back to my apartment, but I should have known that wasn't going to happen from inside Gabriel's living room, what with his Hell-forsaken celestial field. I yank the front door open and storm out onto the porch, needing to get the Hell out of here.

But it's too much to hope that Gabriel will leave me alone. He follows me onto the porch and stares me down. “It was a good act. I really thought you cared about her.”