Extinguish (9 page)

Serah stayed busy over the next few days, immersing herself in extra work. "Micromanaging," Samuel had called it. The only other angel she encountered was Hannah, who appeared a few times on the schoolyard.

Although there was still no sign of Michael as the time passed, reminders of him sprung up everywhere. It seemed every corner Serah turned—everywhere she went—another flower would be
laying in her path, a hint of radiant beauty and color amid the monotonous bustle of day-to-day life.

Clutching a yellow flower she'd stumbled upon on the Lauer's front doorstep, Serah apparated to the field in Heaven. The moment she arrived, she detected Michael's strong presence. Her eyes darted around, finding him a few yards away, knee-deep in the luscious grass, his face tilted toward the cloudless sky.

He turned slowly, sensing her. "Serah."

"Hello, Michael."

"I didn't expect to see you," he said. "I thought you were avoiding me."

"I was," she admitted.

"But not anymore?"

She shook her head. "Not anymore."

"I’m glad," he said. "I've heard from the Dominion that you haven't been to the gates in over a week—not since the day of our disagreement."

"Yeah," she muttered. "Turns out you were right about him."

"Of course I was."

A sigh escaped Serah's lips as she gazed at the flower. "Thank you, by the way."

"You needn't thank me for warning you."

"I wasn't," she said. "I was thanking you for the flowers."

Michael's brow furrowed. "Which flowers?"

Genuine confusion marked his expression. He had no idea what she was talking about.

"I believe your friend Hannah deserves more gratitude than me," he said when she didn’t explain. "The Virtues oversee nature."

"Yeah." Serah dropped the flower with a frown. They hadn’t come from him? "I suppose you're right."

Michael stepped closer, his immense body towering over her small frame. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, engulfing her in a hug, he kissed the top of her head. "I'm always right, Serah. You shouldn't sound so surprised."

Serah tried to seek comfort in his arms, but like with the flower, she felt not a thing. Arms that once brought solace now conveyed emptiness. They were together, touching, embracing; yet, something stood in their way. A wedge had been created, a mass of misunderstanding, laced with unanswered questions.

What was happening?

Serah pulled back from Michael and forced a smile upon her lips. "I should really be going."

"Stay with me."

She slowly
hook her head, ignoring the tempting voice in her mind that shouted,
"Stay with him!"
"I shouldn't. I really can't."

Michael begrudgingly loosened his hold on her, softly, chastely pressing a kiss upon her forehead. "Next time, then."

Serah returned to the playground in Chorizon, startling a form lurking in the shadows. It was well after nightfall, approaching midnight, the only thing thicker than the natural darkness that of malevolence in the air.

The loitering demon turned toward her. His black eyes flickered as a quiet defensive growl vibrated his chest. Serah stared into the bottomless pits of his eyes before her attention drifted to his clenched fist. Instinctively, the creature opened his hand, a stalk of pinkish-purple flowers falling to the ground. The blooms were small, each with four petals, combining together to make a miniature bush.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why are you here?"

"I'm whomever I want to be." A smug smile twisted his lips as he ran his hands down his face, admiring the body he'd possessed. "I kind of like this suit, though. I think I'll keep it for a while."

"You'll do no such thing."

"Who's
gonna stop me?" he asked. "You?"

An answer came from Serah in the form of Latin as she tackled the man and pinned him down, the exorcism incantation flying from her lips. The demon fought viciously before finally erupting in laughter, conceding. He knew he couldn't win. Fighting was senseless. "He said you were a fiery one."

The body convulsed, the demon expelled in a burst of light, as the man's heartbeat kicked in again. Serah stared at him, her hand still pressed against his chest, as his words ran through her head.

He said you were a fiery one.

A groan of aggravation tore from her as she snatched up the discarded flowers and headed straight for Hell.

Her feet stomped heatedly against the sediment toward the
last gate, holding up the stalk, not waiting for him to appear before addressing him. "It was you? Really?
You
?"

A moment of silence passed before he briskly appeared in a crack of thunder. "Excuse me?"

"You did this," she accused, shaking her fist that clutched the flowers. "You!"

"What makes you think that?"

"Because no one else sends demons to do their dirty work," she spat. "What were you thinking? What was the point? Ordering your vile minion to shadow me around Earth, leaving flowers wherever I went! You're dreadful! Truly disgraceful! It's sick!""

Hands in his pockets, Lucifer stared blankly at her, his carefully controlled tone carrying through the gate. "You seem a little angry, angel."

She glowered at him. "Of course I'm angry!"

"Are you mad because I did it?" he asked. "Or are you mad because my brother didn't?"

She opened her mouth, prepared to respond, to give him a verbal lashing for toying with her, but the words were trapped inside of her, imprisoned, unable to escape their confinement inside her head. It wasn’t in her to lie, even when speaking to the greatest liar ever created, and the bitter truth brewed inside of her.

She wasn't really mad at
him
.

"That's what I figured," he muttered.

"You know nothing," she seethed. "Your pride makes you think you do, but you don't! Arrogant rage fills every inch of you! You’re insufferable!"

Lucifer raised his eyebrows. "You're the one lashing out
here."

"At you! Sin has poisoned you! You think you're an almighty leader, worthy of praise, when you're not! There is only one God, and He certainly doesn't live down here,
Satan
!"

Lucifer just watched her, flinching as she spat his title like a curse, but he retained his outward coolness, taking the insult in stride. "Are you done now?"

"No!"

He flippantly waved his hand for her to proceed, but Serah could think of nothing more to say. She wasn't sure where her argument was going, or what point she was trying to make, when he wasn't even disputing her words.

Serah hesitated. "Fine. Yes. I’m done."

"Good," he said. "Now that you got all of that out of your system, it’s my turn."

Every muscle in Serah's body seized up in anticipation as she braced herself for the full force of Lucifer’s rage. She'd seen glimpses of the monster here and there, but she'd yet to face him completely unsheathed.

Lucifer opened his mouth, his devilish eyes ablaze, but his voice was a soft murmur instead of a magnificent scream. "You might be right about me."

"Oh, you're so full of yourself! You. . ." She trailed off, perplexed by his words. "Wait, what?"

"Maybe I'm the enemy. Maybe I'm evil. Maybe I
am
this Satan creature you make me out to be, the one the kids up top call the devil." He smirked, the devious red in his eyes fading away as his features softened, tension receding from his jaw. "It's possible, right?"

"Absolutely."

"But, then again, maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm just misunderstood, and you'll never know because you refuse to have an open mind about it."

She scoffed. "You expect me to believe you're the good guy?"

He barked with laughter. "Fuck no. Never think that. I'm not the hero here, angel, and I don’t want to be. But I'm not the bad guy, either."

"Then who is?"

He shrugged. "Hell, I don’t know. Maybe it's you."

"Me?"

"Well, you did just show up here and berate me for my kindness."

"You call ordering your wretched demons to stalk me
kindness
?"

"I meant the flowers, not the followers," he said. "Or didn't you like them?"

Her eyes darted to the flower still in her hand. "I liked them better when I thought they were from Michael."

"Aw,
you shouldn't judge a flower by who picked it."

"You didn't pick it. One of your lackeys did."

"Technically," he said. "Unavoidable, given the circumstances, but the thought was still there."

"Why?" she asked. "What kind of game are you playing?"

"No game."

"Then what?"

"An apology."

An apology.

He was
apologizing
? If Serah hadn’t been confused before, she certainly was now.

Lucifer held
his hand out. "May I?"

"May you what?"

"See the flower," he said. "I'll give it right back."

She gaped at him. "How do you expect that to happen?"

"Just hand it through the gate," he said. "I’ve told you, it can’t hurt you."

"It’s not the gate that concerns me."

"Come on, I’m not going to bite you. I’m not a vampire."

She rolled her eyes. "Vampires aren’t real."

"They are here. Everything’s real down here. If you can imagine it, it exists somewhere in one of these cages. But that’s beside the point. The fact of the matter is I’m not a vampire, nor am I a werewolf or a shape-shifter or a reaper or a fairy."

She blinked rapidly, thoughts of Nicki’s drawing invading her mind. "Fairy?"

"Evil little bastards. They zigzag in the air, biting anything they can get their teeth into. They’re deadly, so I make sure they’re locked up tight. Of course, they couldn’t kill an angel, though. Very little can."

She nodded slowly. "Only another angel."

"Which is what I am," he said. "An angel."

"A
fallen
angel."

"Yeah, okay, so I fell—there’s no denying that—but your brother did, too. You don’t fear him or think he’s evil, do you?"

"No, but you’re not Samuel."

He stared at her in contemplation before glancing down at the sigils on his forearms. "These aren’t just decoration. My brother carved them into me with his blade of fire to keep me from hurting innocents. So even if I wished you harm—which, I don’t—he made it so I
couldn’t
hurt you."

He traced the black lines with his pointer finger, spelling out the words condemning him, as he let out a long, exasperated sigh. Timidly, Serah took a calculated step forward, then another, and another, until she closed the distance between them. The gate was so close she could hear the electricity crackling, the air glimmering like an enormous soap bubble. Slowly, she reached toward it, nearly touching the gate when Lucifer flew forward, abruptly closing the distance between him and the entrance. Startled, Serah let out a shuddering breath, suspicious eyes focused on him. He smiled guiltily, holding up his hands as he nodded for her to proceed.

There were no fireworks, no torturous screams, no massive explosions or eruptions of brutal pain. The reapers hardly even noticed as her fingertips skimmed the surface of the enclosure, carefully dipping into the enchantments. She’d half expected the bubble to pop, but instead it flickered, spreading around her fingers and forming to her skin as if she’d submerged her hand under water.

Lucifer watched intently, saying not a word, his hands still
rose as he remained statuesque, more rigid than the ground beneath their feet. He waited until her shaky hand appeared on his side, clutching the stalk of flowers, to break his stance.

The moment he moved, Serah’s senses kicked into overdrive, her intuition sending alarms off in her head as he grasped her arm. An astonishing sensation surged through her, foreign and frightening. A tingle, deep in her gut, ignited a spark that ripped up her spine, so intense her teeth chattered. Gasping, she braced herself to be yanked onto his side, but he merely pried the flower from her grasp before letting go.

Serah pulled her hand back and clutched her wrist, wide-eyes watching Lucifer as he took a step away from the gate. "What was that?"

"What was what?" he asked.

"That thing inside of me. That sensation. That feeling."

She'd answered her own question.
That feeling
. She'd felt something, truly felt something raw and powerful for the first time.

Ignoring her, Lucifer’s attention fixated on the flowers, wilting only slightly in the infernal air, the light purple nearly as vibrant as it had been in her hand. That both shocked and saddened her, seeing something so beautiful, so alive, caught on his side with him. She’d almost expected the color to die, to fade away, tainted from his touch.