Reignite (Extinguish #2) (7 page)

In a moment of weakness,
he took a step toward her, just as she swung in his direction. Her gaze
flickered up toward the door as she abruptly stopped dancing, eyes going wide.
Her heart stalled, the brief moment of silence screaming loudly to Lucifer,
ripping him to shreds from the inside out. His worst fear was coming to life,
even for a second: Serah's heart wasn't beating.

He felt the pain
gripping his own chest.

But then her heart
kicked into overdrive, pounding violently as she startled, yanking the music
from her ears. A gasp resounded through the room when her lips parted. She
stared through him, around him, at something near him, but there was no way she
stared at him.

No way
.

It just wasn't possible.
They may have stood in the same room, but they were on entirely different
planes. A human couldn't see an angel unless they purposely showed themselves,
and he'd never shown himself to a human.
Never
.

"It's you,"
she whispered.

Lucifer stared at her
with disbelief.
Me
?

"I, uh... I'm
sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't know anyone was in here... I didn't
think... I mean, I thought... well, check out was an hour ago, and all your
things were gone, and I didn't realize..."

She stammered on and on.
Lucifer was dumbfounded, remaining quiet and gaping at her like he was the one
seeing a ghost.

"I can go, and come
back," she continued. "I mean, if you still need the room, that is. I
don't want to be in the way."

She started for the
door, trying to go around him. On a whim, Lucifer stepped in her path, still
expecting her to go right through him, like humans always did, but her
footsteps stalled. Her heart skipped another beat as she swallowed thickly. He
could sense it then, something angels were trained to detect, the one thing
that surrounded him day in and day out down in the pit.
Fear
.

"Can you see
me?" he asked, arching an eyebrow in question.

She stared at him
blankly for a moment, and he still thought maybe she stared through him, until
she slowly nodded her head. "Of course."

"You see me,"
he said again. "You know me?"

"Yes," she
said tentatively, her heartbeat so frantic it was like a bass drum. Hope
swelled through Luce. She really remembered him. "Well, no… I don't know
you. I've seen you, but I don't know who you are."

His stomach dropped.
"You don't?"

"Uh, no… should
I?"

"But you can see
me," he said for the third time, raising his voice. He ignored her
question, the voice deep inside of him screaming 'how the fuck could you ever
forget?' "You've seen me before."

"Yes, of
course," she said, her voice quaking as she took a step back, wrapping her
arms around her chest. "What's wrong with you?"

He was scaring her.
Closing his eyes, he tried to calm himself down, but it was senseless. There
was no way this was happening. It was a dream, or a fucking nightmare,
punishment from his Father. He hadn't escaped the pit at all… maybe this was
his new Hell, forever to be teased and taunted by her existence, close but
still so far away.

Turning around, he
stepped out of the open doorway and glanced around, freezing when he saw
someone walking down the tier toward him. He stepped toward them as they
approached the room next door to unlock it. Lucifer waved his hand in the
woman's face, but she didn't react, brushing against him without noticing him
there.

Once she was gone, he
looked around again, seeing Serah watching him incredulously from the other
room. He stood on the tier, looking around the neighborhood, seeing people
walking by on the street below, others lingering in the parking lot.

He shouted, trying to
get their attention, but his voice was lost to them, the wrong frequency for
mortal ears.

Serah flinched, though,
covering her ears and cringing when he turned in her direction. He stalked
toward her, pointing at her, as she retreated back into the room.

"What's wrong with
you?" he growled, echoing her question. It clearly wasn't him that was
fucked up—it was
her
. Mortals couldn't see him,
couldn't hear him, couldn't sense him, but she was holding a conversation with
him as if this shit were normal. "How can you see me?"

"You're
crazy," she said, something akin to terror flashing across her face.
"Oh God, maybe I'm crazy. I'm really crazy, aren't I?" She plopped
down on the edge of the bed, long ago forgetting she was in the middle of
making it. She cradled her head in her hands. "I've lost my mind. You're
not real. You're not really here."

Lucifer wanted to
console her, to clear this all up and make sense of the mess, but he was
speechless. How was this happening? He opened his mouth and closed it again.

What could he say?

"You're not
crazy."

She laughed loudly with disbelief. "Then what
am I?"

"You're—"

Before he could get out his sentence, a strong
tingle shot down his spine, a brilliant glow surrounding him. The light
exploded to a ball of bright white, blinding him for a second, before the world
around him cleared.

"—
an
angel."

He finished his
declaration quietly, the words senseless. He was so far away she would never
hear. His feet were planted somewhere he hadn't been in thousands of years, a
place he never expected to see under these circumstances… a room he didn't
anticipate an invitation to anytime soon.

Or
ever again.

Heaven.

It was exactly how he
recalled it. Lucifer stood in front of the throne, eyes meeting his Father's
for the first time since his fall. Beside Him sat Michael, in the seat that had
been created for Lucifer. Anger simmered inside of him, every inch of him
coiling and tightening, so tense he couldn't move. Literally.

His gaze drifted to his
feet. Sigils were burned into the floor around him, the same markings that had
not long ago tarnished his skin, trapping him in Hell. He laughed dryly under
his breath.
Un-fucking-believable
. Imprisoned in
Heaven.

Invited, but clearly not
trusted. He was confined in a box of enchanted space, barred from stepping
outside of it, of hurting anyone away from it.

Luce's eyes returned to
the throne. He cocked an eyebrow in question, but he said nothing.

His Father stared back,
calm, collected. His nonchalant demeanor only fueled Luce's rage. How dare He
bring him here and confine him like a rabid animal needing caged. He was done
being restrained.

"Do you have
nothing to say, son?"

"Fuck you."

He spat the curse with
everything in him, but it still wasn't enough for a reaction from Him. Michael,
on the other hand, flinched.

"He that blasphemes
the name of the Lord shall be put to death," Michael declared.

Luce turned to him.
"Well, fuck you, too."

His Father slowly shook
His head, with just one look making Luce feel like that same disgruntled
disappointment he'd been back in the Garden of Eden. "You still hold onto
so much anger."

"Can you blame
me?"

Rhetorical question, but He answered anyway.
"Yes."

"Good. Great. Glad
we could have this talk. Now put me back where you got me from."

"Trust in The Lord
with all your heart," Michael said, "and do not lean on your own
understanding."

Luce needlessly blinked
a few times and regarded his brother as he recited scripture. He'd had the good
book quoted to him more times than he cared to count since he escaped the pit,
like those words were supposed to mean something to him. He was getting tired
of hearing it.

"Not a fan of
literature?" He asked, hearing Luce's thoughts.
Of
course.
He heard all, knew all, saw all... Luce was sure Michael could
whip out a dozen scriptures stating just that.

"I'm more of a
Stephen King fan."

"So you prefer
fiction to reality?"

Luce shrugged a
shoulder. "Reality is subjective. Down in the pit, it's all real."

Michael started to throw
out yet another nugget of biblical wisdom, but their Father raised a hand to
silence him.

"That's not what I
wanted for you, son."

"But it's what you
gave me," he replied. "So if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if
you'd put me back where you found me."

"I will happily
return you to the lake of fire," Michael interjected. "It would be my
pleasure."

"Your pleasure?" Luce asked, cocking an
eyebrow at him.

Michael nodded in
confirmation. "Nothing would please me more."

"Nothing?"
Luce laughed mockingly. "I tell you,
Mikey
, if
that's how you get your thrills these days, I suggest finding another angel to
get your rocks off with. You know, since you got the last one de-winged."

Michael was up out of
his seat, hastily approaching in the blink of an eye. He stopped right in front
of Luce, mere inches of space between the two. Luce stood as still as a statue,
just waiting for Michael to move a bit closer... just waiting for him to cross
the sigils so he could get his hands on him.

"You did it to
her," Michael growled. "You destroyed her."

"I'm not the one
who tried to cast her into Hell."

"But it's your
fault it happened!"

"Enough."
Their Father's voice rang through the room, not raised at all, but it held all
the force of a ferocious scream. "You two sound like bickering children...
dare I say, like brothers."

Michael didn't seem to
like that assessment and tried to speak up. "But—"

"I said that's
enough," He said, waving beside the throne. "Take your seat,
Michael."

Hesitantly, Michael
retreated, sitting back down. Luce glared at him, his Father's words rubbing
him the wrong way.
Take your seat,
Michael
. That seat had been created for him, not Michael.

"It was," He
said, once again hearing his thoughts. "But you forfeited it, giving up
your place in Heaven."

"So why am I here then?" Luce asked.
"Scold me, smite me, do whatever you want to do to me, but I'm done with
this conversation, so get on with it or let me go."

His Father stared at
him, contemplating. When He finally spoke, His words were quiet. "You may
mean no harm to her, son, but you know what they say about good
intentions."

In an instant, Lucifer
was zapped away in another ball of bright white light, reappearing exactly
where he had been standing in the motel room. As the room cleared around him,
everything coming into focus, His final words ran through Lucifer's mind.

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
.

In
this case, probably literally.

"I'm what?"

Lucifer's gaze darted to
the bed, to where Serah still sat, staring at him. It felt like he'd been away
for half an hour, but he knew it would only be a fraction of a second to her.
She would've never noticed he was gone, would've never seen him leave and come
back.

She stared at him,
waiting for him to finish what he'd been saying before he'd been interrupted.

You're an angel
.

Yeah,
because that would go over well.
She'd either be certain then, that he was crazy, or he'd look like nothing more
than a pervert with a cheesy pick-up line.
Did
it hurt when you fell from Heaven?

Of course it did, asshole. I bled out in the
fucking street
.

He shook his head,
brushing it off, as he slowly stepped toward her. She didn't cower away from
him, more curious than fearful. Wide-eyed, she stared up at him when he paused
in front of her.

"You're
dreaming," he said quietly. "I'm nothing more than a figment of your
imagination."

Reaching out, he pressed
a single fingertip to her forehead, feeling the energy pulsing beneath her
skin. It only lasted a second, a mere second of touching her again, before she
fell back on the bed.

She was out like a
light, fast asleep. She'd wake up after he was gone, and this whole encounter
would be nothing but a vague dream.

Sighing, he gazed at her for a
moment before leaving. He fucking hated when those holy rollers were right.