Cast In Blood: Revelations Series Book 1: (12 page)

Her thoughts shifted to the actual Fall. She'd been the organizer. She'd convinced almost half the angels that Jehovah had done them a gross injustice by denying them the places left behind by Hera and Hermes and Athena and Aries and all the other gods Zeus had given a special place. Even more, she'd convinced them that God had favored humanity far too much, offering them all His love and devotion while reducing the angels to mere servants, their power only so great as the people's needs. The battle had been both glorious and horrific. Wings were slashed, angels mutilated, injured, and some even destroyed.

God hadn't allowed the fight to last long. When allegiances were clear, He split the groups and sent those who'd betrayed Him to Limbo while He decided their ultimate fate. He'd spoken with each individually, searching for both answers and signs of regret. When He'd interviewed Lucifer, all she was able to express was spite.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned….

The pain in His eyes was evident, but immortals didn't cry, so His words had to express what visible emotion couldn't. "How could you, Lucy?"

She scoffed. "You just don't get it, do you? You have Heaven and Earth at your disposal, legions of angels willing to do your bidding, humans praying to you and loving you.
You
! Not you and your most loyal. Not you and your right hand. You, and you alone."

"If you had it in you to cross me over refusing to make you a god, what might you have done if you'd had the power? What would it have taken to upset you enough to overthrow me and take my place?"

"I never would have done that! Is that what you believe?"

"It's what I know, Lucy."

"Don't pull that omniscient crap on me, Jove. I'm not one of your little creatures on Earth. You have no idea what I would've done."

The statement took Him aback, and He scowled and turned away, shaking His head incredulously. "Well, I guess that's it then."

"Is it?"

"I'm thinking I might just leave all of you here. I'm definitely not allowing any of you back into Heaven. You've done too much damage, and I'm afraid I can't trust any of you. Not anymore."

"If you'd trusted me, you would have made me your wife."

"Your obsession will only cause you further ruin."

"And your ego will eventually ruin you."

He turned back, the pain on His face instantly transformed into anger. "You want power? You want to be the queen of all you survey? Fine. I'll grant you your wish, and your army can join you. I have one opening in need of being filled. Now it's yours. Do what you will with it."

She screamed when the hellfire flooded her veins. "What … what is this?"

"Hades is on his way out, one of the last of Zeus' entourage. His job now falls onto your shoulders. Wear his hat well. If you fail in it, I'll give it to one of the djinn and let you and your fallen brethren rot."

"Please, not this! Forgive us. We'll never challenge you again, I promise!"

"No, you will not."

The sudden heat overcame anything else she could have perceived during that first moment in those fiery, sulfurous pits. Her transformation came slowly, part of the punishment. Her beautiful wings melted into black membranous atrocities, her skin scaled and cracked, and the hellfire within her made her feel as though she were burning both inside and out.

It took her centuries to get used to the screams. For many years, she wanted to show mercy on those who'd suffered for so long, but her instructions were clear: Punish the damned, and with little exception, do so without reprieve. After what had felt like an eternity, she was able to harden her heart and tune out the cries and pleas.

As time went on, her perception of the heat diminished, and eventually it became a sense of comfort. She learned to embrace her dark world and take pleasure in her job. She set up an executive group, composed of her most trusted Fallen—no longer angels, but demons just like her. She'd made the place everything Hades had hoped for and more, better organizing the levels of torture and how to determine who deserved to go where and who would deliver the punishment.

It was a Hell to be proud of, and God took notice.

While He made it clear Lucy's own punishment was every bit as eternal as those of the darkest souls she collected, He did eventually repeal most of her restrictions. He allowed her and her demons to take on more acceptable forms, even allowing them to reclaim their wings and fair features whenever they so chose. He also allowed some of them limited access outside of Hell, so long as they had a purpose for it, and He gave Lucy the ability to banish anyone who crossed her or did not do their job well enough.

He did not, however, allow any of them the pleasure of seeing Heaven ever again; their exile stood absolute. He also put in place a series of safeguards—seven seals that stood between any entity gaining power or stealing humanity's beliefs and the absolute power that came with ruling all worlds. These seven seals reflected the seven realms between the micro and the macro, all that stood between the musical strings and quarks that came together as atoms, molecules, cells, worlds, and universes. Each seal was a part of Him, and there were catastrophic consequences to each one's destruction. He'd kept the knowledge of the seals, and how to break them, to Himself. Somehow, someone had tapped into His omnipotent knowledge and deciphered the seals' secrets.

Might He suspect she was behind yet another revolt? Just the thought of that filled her with a feeling of sorrow she hadn't experienced in millennia. No, even if He had His suspicions, deep down He had to know she never wanted things to end like this.

So many times, she prayed, hoping He might hear her.

He had to know how sorry she was for her crimes. Did He care? Might He have shifted his affections to another angel still by His side? Or did He gaze down on her with as much longing as she still felt for Him, just too stubborn to forgive her fully? He had to know how devoted she was to Him, even now, after all that had been said and done.

She would have done almost anything for Him. Anything—except worship Him.

If they did fail, would they perish without ever having the chance to gaze into one another's eyes just once more?

Her thoughts clouded again, and she realized she was crying when the tears began to sizzle down her cheeks.

Immortals didn't cry….

"Oh, God," she whispered.

D
rew moved
through the unfamiliar area, staying alert just in case someone else decided to mess with her. She wasn't as concerned with running into another disgruntled john as much as she was with the possibility that she might cross a vampire or goblin looking for trouble. The area reeked of supernatural souls, some of them nearly as filthy as the ones she'd encountered at the church, and a half-human morsel like her was always a potential target. If J. D. had to come to her aid yet again, she could be sure the consequences would be dire.

From the outside, Dante's Inferno was easy to miss, concealed by the brownstone façade that opened up only at a single door. Pale light shone through an open window above the door, and Drew paused to look at a wooden sign hung overhead by two brass hooks. It swung softly in the faint breeze, and the print—black lettering with red, orange, and yellow streaks that might at one time have resembled flames—was faded and unassuming.

Drew looked around, ensured she had the right address, and then quietly stepped inside.

The interior was a bit livelier, although it was by no means loud or crowded. A handful of patrons sat at the bar, quietly nursing their drinks. A few twenty-somethings played pool in the back, and by the way they played and reacted to each shot, all of them had clearly taken in generous servings of alcohol. The ambiance was a combination of dejection and drunken cheer—the smells coming from the different groups creating a cross between engine exhaust and fresh salsa.

In the bar area stood a cute young man shaking some kind of mixed drink. Had circumstances been a little different, she might have given him the eye on her way through the dim room, but luckily for both of them, she wasn't looking.

And by the scent of his aura, neither was he.

The sound of a neon sign on its way out irritated her, and she had to make an effort to tune it out. Why choose this, of all places, to meet? Was it the obscure location or the dark, dank atmosphere?

The scent of demon was faint, but the black flicks to her aura made her easy to pick out. She had done a good job disguising herself as a human, albeit an Amazon of a woman. Drew strode to the back of the room with as much confidence as she could muster and slid into the booth across the table from her.

Polly smiled, setting down a tumbler of gin and tonic. "Hello, Drew."

Drew had expected an offer to shake hands, but failed to initiate the formal introduction herself when it didn't come. Demons were fickle creatures, unpredictable and often arrogant when it came to people like Drew. For all she knew, the move would enrage Polly rather than satisfy her ego.

Then again, it could've been a test, and in that case she'd failed miserably. If she had, Polly didn't let on.

Polly eyed Drew's skimpy clothing, amused. "J. D. told me you were a firecracker. You really are just as cute as a button. Michael is going to love you."

"I'm not exactly sure why I'm here."

"Of course not." Polly sighed, then muttered, "Thanks, J. D."

"So, what am I doing here?"

"Well, I have a meeting with an … old acquaintance. We're not on the best of terms these days, and I think he might be more forthcoming if someone a little less conflicting than myself came along as a buffer."

"That doesn't answer the question: Why me?"

Polly considered her words, looked like she might actually give a direct answer, and then turned away with a slight grimace. Her scent shifted a couple of times, going from smoky to sulfurous to slightly metallic. Clearly, she decided J. D. had made the right call by keeping her in the dark. Maybe she'd refuse to go if she knew what would be expected of her?

She shuddered at the thought of being sent to entertain some awful creature, something none of the pimp's fully human girls would be able to handle. It would be his style to send her off to a particularly terrible job to knock her back off the wagon.

Polly crossed her arms, grabbed her chin with one hand, and then gave Drew a sideways glance. "Are you questioning J. D.'s judgment?"

"No—no, not at all." Drew knew better than to continue pushing for a reasonable response. If Polly wanted her going in blind, there had to be a reason. Even more, the choice to send her was not likely a decision either of the demons had taken lightly, even if the rationale made sense to them alone.

"Good. Now, I know you've been teleported before, but this time is going to be much different than your previous experiences. It might be disorienting at first, so try not to puke."

Drew simply nodded.
Man, I hope we're not going to pop to the peak of Mt. Everest or something like that
.
Or a boat in the middle of the ocean.

God, I hate boats
.

Polly's cell phone beeped, and she pulled it from a pocket to take a look. "Time to go, kiddo." She stood, stretched, and then led Drew outside and to a dark alley nearby. The smell of sulfur grew overwhelming, which was never a good sign.

Drew felt her heart speed up a little, her palms going sweaty. Wherever they were going, she wasn't feeling good about it. She wanted to back out, come up with some quick excuse as to why she couldn't go, but J. D. would have her hide if she did that.

Polly took a moment to center herself. Was that dread Drew smelled? The demon turned to her with obvious hesitance. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

In the blink of an eye, they were transported to … nowhere?
Disorienting is an understatement, demon.
And yes, it was a bit nauseating.

"What is this place?" Drew surveyed the seeming nothingness that now surrounded them. Other than the vast grey fog that rolled around them, not only in every direction she looked but also above them and in place of any semblance of solid ground below their feet, the only other visible phenomena were little flicks of light glimmering and fading randomly throughout the void. The place was neither warm nor cool, and Drew couldn't smell anything, ethereal or otherwise. While they walked, the illusion of even footing kept her from feeling like she might float away.

Polly didn't look the least bit concerned, so Drew did her best to hold her composure despite the unsteadiness that came with the artificial traction.

"Limbo—neutral ground. We're here to meet with the archangel Michael."

"How will we find him?"

"By will. He'll know how to find us."

As if on cue, a figure as massive as any demon, with silver hair and towering white wings, emerged through the haze. His features were slightly feminine, yet discernably masculine, and his eyes gleamed with what Drew could only imagine was the light of Heaven.

He gave Polly a subtle nod, keeping his distance. "So, you have my attention. What do you have for me?"

Polly shrugged. "I hoped you had a better idea of what's going on. Someone is smuggling angelite out of Heaven."

"Is that so? What would anyone in Heaven have to gain by smuggling out angelite?"

"You tell me."

He glanced at Drew. "Why did you bring a child of Lilith along with you? I thought we were to meet in private. If I knew better, I'd think I was walking into a trap of some kind."

"But you do know better."

Drew looked back and forth between the two. "Excuse me, but I don't really appreciate the third person dialogue. Child of Lilith? What the hell does that mean?"

Michael's wings rose and a deep scowl reflected his disgust. His voice was explosive, echoing all around them, when he responded: "You will address me with respect, or you won't address me at all." He turned to Polly. "What's the meaning of this insolence?"

"Oh, stand down, Michael. She was raised human. She doesn't know any better."

"I don't know any better than what?" Drew suddenly felt small, and growing smaller still, as though she were some kind of insect crawling beneath these two powerful, knowledgeable beings.

"Just be quiet for a minute." Polly stepped forward, in front of Drew. "She doesn't know what she is or what she's capable of. She's completely harmless."

"Someone needs to put her in her place."

Drew fought the temptation to defend herself and demand an explanation. Instead, she watched Polly stand between the angel and her, wishing she didn't feel so much like a third wheel.

"What do you want, Polly?" the angel asked, his voice much less intense.

"Hell has seen a noticeable decrease in incoming souls. Someone else has been claiming them. Lucifer actually thought, for some insane reason, your people might be behind it."

"God has similar suspicions about your boss. I told Him that was ridiculous, of course. How could either of us have anything to gain in destroying the other? That would be suicide."

"So you're seeing fewer souls making it to Heaven, too?"

Michael nodded. "We've crunched the numbers several times, and we can't account for the discrepancy."

"Do you have any leads?"

Michael considered her words. "I've paid Earth several visits, and the demonic activity down there is … substantial."

"Hell has had an additional problem as of late. Escapees."

"You expect me to believe anyone could escape Hell?"

"Djinn. A lot of them. Don't ask me how they're doing it. Clearly, it's an inside job. It's obvious to anyone with a brain that there's a connection. We're still trying to figure out what exactly that connection is. Do you know anything that might help fill in the gaps?"

"One of my searches led me to a church," Michael said, then immediately amended, "A religious cult. I tried to infiltrate it disguised as a human, but they wouldn't have me. Someone on the inside had to have recognized me."

"What else?"

"That's it."

Drew could tell Polly thought he was holding back—the trust between them was shaky at best—but she just smiled and nodded.

"A church … that's why I brought the succubus. She can show you what I can't." Polly motioned for Drew to come forward.

Drew meekly stepped up. "I don't have anything to show."

"You have your memories. Your kind constantly draws in the energy around you, which connects with everything you do, everything you see, everything that goes on around you. Your soul records it all as psychic photographs. You can show Michael what you've seen."

"How did you know I was at the church?"

Polly shrugged. "You don't think J. D. gives you that long of a leash, do you? He lets you get away with all he does because he likes you."

Michael stared Drew down, still unsure about her presence. "How can I trust you aren't going to use her as a weapon against me? I'm supposed to take you on your word that she's not going to steal the intelligence I've collected instead of giving me hers?"

Polly crossed her arms, getting impatient. "Either we're going to work together on this or we're not."

"I should have cleared this with God first," he said with a sigh. "I shouldn't have gone behind His back."

"Then go home and pull God into the loop, but make it quick. We're running out of time."

Michael looked between the two women, contemplated for another moment, and then offered Drew a tentative hand. "Show me."

She took his hand, shaking. "I don't know how."

Polly put a hand on her shoulder. "Close your eyes and think about everything you saw when you were at the church. You're going to project your memories the same way you project your consciousness beyond your body."

"But—"

"Relax. Let it flow out of you. Picture your memories like you would a movie in your mind's eye."

Drew nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'll try."

She pictured the cult leader and the darkness flooding his soul, then she thought about the man whose essence appeared to be composed of pure darkness and the tendrils that reached out from him toward every living thing in their reach—including her projected spirit. She thought about the people combing the streets for new members and the congregation she saw in the church proper. Then she thought about the way their leader had looked at her when he'd spotted her sitting in the pews.

She shuddered.

Michael pulled away. "That's enough."

She watched him, knowing based on her sudden fatigue she'd done something, but feeling unsure whether she'd actually shown him what she had intended to. "Did I do it?"

Michael nodded, and yet he looked puzzled.

"What is it?" Polly asked.

"The demons I followed … they're inhabiting a different church. They're not even in the same country."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm certain."

"What's that mean?" Drew asked, feeling a little sick.

"That means we're looking at possibly a global pandemic," Michael said. "Whatever is out there is big. It's highly organized. It's a whole new faction separate from Heaven and Hell, and somehow it's hiding away souls worldwide. Working toward cutting us off. Starving us."

Drew turned to Polly. "I'm not sure I understand. What do the souls do for you? Are they … food or something?"

"Or something. Collecting souls is our purpose. Without a purpose, Heaven and Hell as we know them will cease to exist and everyone in charge will die."

"God can die?"

"It's not going to happen. We're not going to let it happen," Michael said, his hands clenching into tight fists. He turned to Polly. "Keep in touch. I'll let you know if I learn anything new on my end."

Polly nodded.

Michael backed into the mist, fading.

"Hey," Polly called out.

He paused, barely visible. "Yes?"

"Give my regards to the Big Guy, if you would."

Michael paused long enough to roll his eyes and raise a parting hand, then he disappeared into the grey nothingness.

Drew looked around, unsure what else she expected to see. Like images in clouds, short tricks of the mind manifested fleeting shapes through the swirling greyness, but nothing concrete enough to mistake as anything real. Still, she squinted her eyes a couple of times to be sure the apparitions were just that.

"What now?"

Polly stared ahead at the spot where Michael had disappeared, looking lost in thought. "Now I take you home."