Reignite (Extinguish #2) (19 page)

What people don't seem
to realize, though, is it's always dangerous. It's not just the supernatural
world they have to contend with. When you're mortal, life is nothing more than
a drawn-out game of Russian
Roulette
. Every moment is
the spin of a gun cylinder, every decision pointing the barrel at your head.
Over and over, again and again, you pull the trigger, hoping it won't be your
last turn in the game.

Angels were blessed with
knowing which would be the last, which decision would hold the bullet ending it
all. Luce could look at every mortal and know when they would take their last
breath and what would happen to their souls afterward with just a glance.

Luce knew their futures,
but he didn't know Serah's. He should've been able to tell, when she opened her
eyes in the street that day, what would come of her, but there was nothing.
There was never anything. Every moment was like her last, until another moment
happened, replacing the one before it. There was no life, no death, and no
future, just a right now. A right now she'd been living for months. The muzzle
of the gun was pressed to her temple but nobody had pulled the trigger yet.

Sighing, Luce looked
away from her quiet house, turning to the neighbor's. He could feel Samuel's
essence all over the place. His future was easy to see, a long and happy life
before he ascended back to Heaven where his soul originated. Luce wished he
could see that for Serah.

Fuck, he wished he could
see
anything
for her.

If she was destined for
Heaven, he could walk away, leave her in peace with a life he'd forced upon
her. If she were destined for Hell, he would fight tooth and nail to save her.
But she seemed to just be fated to exist in the moment. What would happen when
her heart stopped beating?

He waved his hand toward
the yard around the Barlow house. The grass shriveled, withering back into the
ground until it was the same short length as everyone else's. He was watching
it when a peculiar sting shot down his spine, a feeling that had consumed him
all day.

It felt like a knife in
his back.

Danger.

He searched out Serah,
straining himself to sense her across town, and froze when he faintly caught
the melody of her heartbeat. It thumped feverishly, so hard he could ear its
echo like it was banging against her ribcage, desperately trying to escape. The
second the sound struck him, another joined it, jarring him as the pop of
static ricocheted through the neighborhood, so loud dogs started barking, a
nearby car alarm suddenly wailing.

Luce turned, seeing a
dozen angels, some with recognizable faces, a few with weapons but most
unarmed. The brazen fuckers were visible, shields completely down. Any mortal
could look out the window and see them descending upon the neighborhood. He
scanned the crowd for Abaddon, but his old friend was nowhere to be found. Luce
sought him out, uneasiness in the pit of his stomach.

Anger gripped him.

The Guardian was
startlingly close to that frantic heartbeat.

The angels started
toward Luce as he reached for his weapon, gripping it tightly. He had the
advantage, since they couldn't take his wings, but they could wound him enough
to keep him from leaving. Some of them faltered when he pulled his knife out,
but one brave Power lunged right for him. They were slow, and sloppy, clearly
not the best fighters up above. They weren't sent to stop him, or harm him.
They were a deterrent.

A distraction.

That
son of a bitch.

Luce swung his knife,
stabbing, grabbing, slicing, dicing, and nicking every bit of angel he could
reach. They swarmed him on all sides, Grace bathing him when he plunged his
knife through an angel's chest and yanked it back out. He scarcely had time to
enjoy the sensation, to relish in the surge of energy, when a knife stabbed him
in the side. He grunted at the sharp pain, swinging toward his assailant, a
pretty little Virtue in a red gown.
Pity
.

Luce grabbed her arm,
twisting it, pulling the knife straight from her hand. He stabbed her with it,
stabbed her straight in the stomach, bringing his own blade down through her
back when she hunched over. She exploded in a ball of light, surrounding him,
the tingle easing some of the burn from the wound.

Fuck, he hated how slow
he healed.

"Michael," he
shouted, looking up at the night sky as he fended off another attack, taking a
nick to the cheek. "Brother, if there's ever a moment for you to try to
intervene in my goddamned existence, this would be it."

He swung around, taking
out the winged bastard that had cut him. Another female. He sliced another,
swinging around as a second loud pop of static tore through the neighborhood.

Luce's eyes instantly
met a pair of familiar ones.

Michael.

"Thank fucking
Heavens," Luce groaned.

"I'm not doing this
for you," Michael said right away, swinging his sword, taking two out at
once.

"I know you're
not," Luce said. "I'm just glad you're doing it."

More static rocked the
night, more angels appearing. "Reinforcements," Luce muttered.
"Beautiful."

There was a pop of
static directly to his left, not but a few feet away. He turned, about to throw
his knife right at whoever it was, but hesitated with it raised. Another pretty
Virtue, but this one he knew.
Hannah
.

"Not you, too,
sunshine," he said. "Tell me you're not one of Abaddon's fools."

She froze, genuinely
stunned by the sight, before her face twisted in disgust. "Never."

"Good to
know," Luce said, shoving her out of the way to take out an angel behind
her. "So what are you doing here?"

"Serah," she
said, her voice urgent. "She's in trouble."

Luce nodded, swinging
around, throwing his knife halfway across the yard and impaling a burly looking
Power right in the forehead. He flicked his wrist and his knife can hurling
back, the angel exploding into a cloud of expelled Grace. He turned to Michael,
seeing his brother was bogged down. It wasn't a matter of winning or losing.
They'd win… no doubt about it. Archangels never lost. It was a matter of
battle, of endurance, of taking out the other side.

Michael looked over at
him, nodding. "Go."

"You sure about
that?"

Just as he said it,
another loud pop rocked the street, quaking the ground. More angels appeared,
this time
Powers
sent from above. Luce laughed to
himself. His Father had sent help.

"I am now,"
Michael said, turning his focus to Hannah. "You know how to use a knife,
Virtue?"

Hannah nodded.
"Samuel taught me long ago."

Michael tossed her a
discarded weapon, and she caught it mid-air.

"Don't hold
back," he told her. "They won't."

Luce didn't hesitate any
more, zapping right out of there and to the old motel. The place was unlocked,
the door open, lights on, but nobody was around. Her heartbeat was gone, as was
Abaddon. He sought them out, zapping from place to place, city to city, and
country to country, going everywhere he sensed Abaddon had gone, until finally…
finally… he found him.

The Guardian stood on a
ledge at the top of the Empire State Building, wings fully expanded, his eyes
black as night. He had an arm wrapped around Serah's chest, his free hand
clutching a knife. He held it to her throat as she trembled, tears streaking her
flushed cheeks. She was barely holding herself together. Abaddon's strong grip
was the only thing keeping her upright. "Ah, speak of the devil and he
shall appear."

Serah cried loudly,
letting out a horrified scream when Luce manifested in front of her. He froze
in spot, a few feet away as his eyes met hers. He could feel her fear, the
sensation so overwhelming that it nearly crippled him. He knew what she saw
when she looked his way. His massive wings were fully expanded, the knife
gripped firmly in his hand. Blood trickled down his cheek as more coated his
ripped shirt on his side.

"I'm glad you could
make it," Abaddon said, his voice calm. "Do me a favor and toss aside
that knife, will you?"

Luce hesitated before
dropping his knife. It clattered against the concrete of the ledge, landing
between them. "What do you think you're doing, Don?"

"What I have
to," Abaddon answered right away. "I didn't want it to come to this,
but you gave me no choice."

"You've always had
a choice," Luce said. "You chose to join me long ago, and then you
chose to abandon me when it suited you. You chose to stand around while I was
punished for your indiscretions. So don't talk to me about choices, because you
have them, and you've made them. But now, old friend, you've severely limited
mine."

A slow smile spread
across his lips. "That's where you're wrong, Lucifer."

The second Abaddon said
his name, he closed his eyes, hearing the gasp escape Serah's lips, a
surprising
exhale
. "Lucifer?"

Abaddon laughed, looking
genuinely amused when Luce opened his eyes again. Serah was staring at him,
stunned. He could see she had questions, questions Abaddon, too, sensed.

"Aw, you didn't
know, did you?" Abaddon asked, the words full of forced compassion that
didn't at all match the amusement that danced in his eyes. "You didn't
know your lover was the one-and-only Lucifer. The elusive Prince of Darkness.
Here he let you think he was some storybook Prince Charming when really he's
the King of Hell."

Serah's lips parted, the
next word barely a breath, but it held so much power it nearly knocked Lucifer
off the ledge. "Satan."

Satan
.

He hated that fucking
name.

Abaddon tugged on Serah
roughly, yanking on the fabric of her shirt with the hand snaked around her,
exposing part of her chest. His fingertips traced her scar. His words were
directed at Serah, but Luce knew they were meant for him, that they were meant
to wound him in a way no knife would.

"Who do you think
gave you this scar?" Abaddon asked as he pressed his palm against her
chest. "Who do you think took your memories away?"

"No," she
whispered, shaking her head. "No."

Luce couldn't meet her
eyes. He knew she'd see the truth in his.

"You see,
Serah," Abaddon said, "you were once like us. Once, not long ago, you
had wings. But Lucifer here manipulated you. He robbed you of everything, left
you bleeding in the street. And he did it all with that knife right there, the
one laying in front of you on the concrete. You were innocent, until the
notorious Lucifer tore you to pieces, one whispered lie at a time."

"Luce," she
called out, her voice quivering. "Please tell me that's not true. Tell me
this isn't real. Tell me something… please… tell me I'm crazy."

Luce met her eyes,
drinking in the heartbreak those words had caused. That heart, a heart he
savored every time it beat, was shattering over him. "You're not crazy.
You've never been crazy."

"No," she
whispered again. "Don't tell me that. Please. Don't… don't tell me this is
real."

"I am who he says I
am," Luce said. "I did what he says I did."

"No." She
nearly collapsed as sobs tore through her. "Don't say that!"

"It's the
truth," Luce continued, trying to ignore the ache her words caused.
"I took half of the angels down with me when I fell, and I took you, too.
I took you cruelly. You trusted me. You believed in me. You thought everyone
was wrong when they called me Satan, but I proved them right by making you
fall."

"You're
crazy," she cried.

"No, I'm just a
sinner," Luce said. "And a liar.
And a snake.
I ruled Hell for six thousand years until you helped me escape."

She could do nothing but
stare at him. Devastation marked her features. Defeat slumped her shoulders.
Her tears steadily streamed down her cheeks, but he could do nothing to dry
them when he'd been the one to cause them in the first place.

"I'm a lot of bad things, Serah, but that's
not all I am, nor is that why we're here," Luce continued. "You see
,
there's something else I am, something Abaddon
knows."

"What?" she
asked. "What are you?"

"I'm in love with
you," Luce said quietly. "He found my weakness."

Serah never had a chance
to respond. Before the last syllable was from his lips, a painful gasp echoed
through air as the knife Abaddon held sliced through Serah's throat. Blood
streamed from the wound as he let go of her, shoving her right over the edge.

Make your choice, brother, and make it quick
.

Abaddon's words rang through Luce's mind as he
hesitated for a fraction of a second. A fraction of a section, barely a blip,
but it was almost too long. He dove off the side of the building, soaring as
fast as he could, snatching a hold of Serah just a second before she hit the
ground.