Ignite (23 page)

“How about I find you,” I offer. “Whenever you get back.”

“How would you do that?”

I waggle my fingers in front of him. “With powerful, secret demon magic.”

A small smile begins to spread across his face. “And if I want to find you?”

I hesitate. I have to give him something, but what? “Oh,” I say, bending down to my backpack. I pull out a scrap of paper from the bottom of the bag and a black pen with runny ink. I sign my name on the paper, blow on the ink to dry, fold it in half, and hand it to him. “You can use this.”

He takes the scrap and opens it. “It’s just your name.”

“You can use it to track me if you need to. But you
shouldn’t
need to, because I can find you.”

“How does it work?” he asks, tucking the scrap of paper into his pocket carefully.

“Right, you don’t know any tracking spells. This one’s simple, but relatively effective. It only works if the person you are looking for signed the paper. If you write my name yourself, my location won’t be clear. You just take the paper, look at the name, and say ‘Monstra mihi nominavit.’”

“
Monstra mihi nominavit
,” he repeats slowly, his tongue tripping over the foreign Latin words. “What does it mean?”

“‘Show me the named.’ If it works, which it should, you will see the location of whoever you are looking for. It’s a bit of a one-hit-wonder, though because after you use it, it will burst into flames.”

“Theatric.”

“Just the way Hell likes it.”

“But I should be able to find you?”

“Easier than a GPS,” I confirm.

“GPS?”

“Never mind. Yes, you will be able to find me.”

He smiles wider. “I’ll find you.”

I remain quiet.

He leans forward and gently presses his lips to my forehead, his hand resting on my shoulder. I close my eyes and fight the urge to tilt my chin up and meet his lips with my own.

Don’t,
I warn myself.

He steps back, still smiling brightly at me. Happiness rolls off of him in waves, and I am knocked breathless. I offer him a tight smile back as he unfurls his wings. He watches me intently, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away I’ll disappear, so he stares at me, memorizing my face.

“I’ll be back later.”

“I know,” I say, hugging myself.

“Be safe, Pen.”

“Not in my nature, Michael.”

He tilts his chin down. “Then do it for me.”

I look back at him in silence. His blazingly bright eyes are pleading. I nod once, small and quick.

“Thank you.”

I turn away before I see him lift out of the clearing, but I can feel the cyclone of air his wings creates. I feel a tightness in my chest at knowing he’s gone and I am suddenly aware of the emptiness of the forest without him.

Stop caring.

Stop caring.

Stop. Caring.

But I can’t. Something about Michael has changed me, and I’m worried I won’t ever be the same. Worse, I’m worried I won’t want to be the same

Chapter 19

Azael once asked me what I hated most about humans. After the incident at Eden, he created a list a mile long of everything he hated. I think a large part of him was jealous that humans had more of a choice than angels or demons did. They were influenced by both sides of Earth, pulled in one direction or the other, but ultimately it was their decision who to listen to. They could chose Heaven, Hell, or a bit both.

Az never had a choice like that. He had a fate, a destiny that was already written, and despite what he did, he would always end up where he was supposed to be. Ultimately, everything he did to try to change his story failed.

When he thought he was rebelling against Heaven by falling with Lucifer and joining Hell, he was really just following his fate. He was always destined to fall. It wasn’t rebellious; it was expected.

I know that’s what upset him most. He had no free will—just the illusion of choice. But his decision was never a surprise. Maybe now that fate is erasing itself, he’ll finally get the chance to write his own destiny. Now that choice won’t only be an illusion for him, he could see what I see if he looks hard enough. Being good or being evil aren’t the only two options we have. It’s possible to be both, and maybe I can convince him of this.

When he would push the issue, force me to pick something that annoyed me about humanity, I would always answer the same: their emotions.

Human emotions are confusing, and Heaven and Hell have been trying to unravel the mystery since Adam. So, it seems, has man. There is no logical explanation for many of the things they feel or what they do in response to that feeling. Emotions are instinctual. They don’t need to be learned.

In Greek mythology, emotions were destructive to the world. When Pandora opened her box, out crawled rage, revenge, and spite, ready to tear apart the seams of functional society.

Ancient doctors believed that emotions were controlled by the body’s organs. Fear, these doctors thought, was produced by the kidneys. Remove the kidneys, remove fear. Anger, likewise, surged out of the liver like poison. Happiness came from the heart.

Maybe they had that part right. Happiness, love, and affection must lie in the heart. That would explain why I feel so detached from these feelings. I find it hard to imagine falling in love with someone. What would it feel like to have your heart stutter in another’s presence? Would it hurt, like a dizzying pinch, or would it be enjoyable, something you crave?

If I still had a heart, I would want to know what falling in love feels like. I would want to experience it for myself.

I’ve read about falling in love in hundreds of books and thousands of sonnets. Poetry describes love as sudden, unexpected, and overwhelming. It’s like a light suddenly appears next to you, warm and bright, showing you everything you couldn’t see in the dark. That sounds a lot like Michael. Bright, warm, illuminating.

Emotions are irrational, uncontrollable, and, until a few moments ago, I believed they were a condition only humans could suffer from. But now I think I’m wrong.

I’ve never been ruled by emotion before, and I’m surprised by how deep these feelings root themselves. I feel different somehow, lighter on my feet. And it terrifies me. I’m not accustomed to happiness, not true happiness, anyway. iIt takes me a minute to identify that happy is what I am feeling. How can someone without a heart be happy? But I am. Happy.

And scared.

I don’t understand how I can experience two such strongly opposing feelings at the same time. My emotions fight within me, tumbling over one another, wrestling for dominance. One minute, I’m smiling, imagining a future which, if Michael is right, could be filled with brightness and joy instead of darkness. The next minute, I’m terrified, arrested by the fear of losing my current life. This fear penetrates into my bones and makes me feel like I am made of glass, ready to shatter at any moment.

To give up Hell, I would be giving up a life that’s been all I’ve known for centuries. I would have to start again with nothing and no one.

Because that is what it would mean to trade Hell for something else—for something
more
. I would lose Azael and I would lose my home. I would be completely and utterly alone. Unless I had Michael.

The more I think about it, the more I wonder if I made the right decision to turn my back on Heaven all those years ago. It was a decision I made so quickly, without much consideration. I just knew that I couldn’t lose Azael. I was willing to lose almost anything if it meant I could stay close to him.

Something about Hell hasn’t ever sat quite right with me and I’ve never really settled into my role as a demon. At least, I’ve never been as comfortable as Az has. It never came as naturally for me as it did for my brother. I thought I was able to hide my discomfort with what I’ve done, but Michael knew. How did he know? I’ve played my part so well, let it almost completely consume me. If he was able to see that I don’t lose myself the way Azael does in evil, who else can?

Over the years, I’ve carefully built a wall around myself, taller and taller, so that no one could see me for who I really am. No one has ever cared enough to look too closely. But somehow, after just a short time with me, Michael has scaled the wall and gotten a glimpse, however fleeting, at the real me.

The ultimate question is whether or not I am willing to embrace the real me. If I abandon my life in Hell, what do I have? Where would I go?

Heaven is obviously out of the question. I burned that bridge centuries ago, and I don’t think there’s any penance I can pay to rectify my past mistakes. There are so many questions spinning around in my head that I become dizzy.

I may be losing everything I am familiar with, but maybe I would be gaining something better, something that is completely mine. Something new and untouched that I can define on my own. A path that I can forage for myself. I smile to myself as a line of poetry dances through my mind.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…

It’s time for me to travel down the road not taken. I don’t fit in with angels or demons, but perhaps there is someone else out there as conflicted as I am. Like Michael. And maybe there are others.

My head is pounding as I turn over my options in my head. Heaven, Hell, Heaven, Hell,
other
. The words spin so quickly in my mind they start to blur together. I have no one to turn to for advice. Michael is gone, for now, and if I even hinted to Azael that I was considering shedding my demonic title, he’d flip. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight, and I would be forever under his thumb, following his lead. He was the reason I became a demon, and if he had his way, he would be the reason I would stay one.

Azael’s darkness is absolute and impossible to ignore. Next to him, anything I am—dark, light, or something in between—is dull and unimpressive. I’m tired of being in his shadow. I can’t continue to make my life choices revolve around him. He’s my flesh and blood, but he isn’t the sun my Earth revolves around.

I’m done holding back my thoughts; I’m done biting my tongue.

As I fly across the expansive forests of the Pacific Northwest, headed towards the rocky cliffs of the Appalachian trails, hope begins to bloom in my stomach, its roots reaching out and growing into my veins. The warmth seeps slowly through me, and I find that I’m smiling to myself, unafraid of who sees me.

Salvation comes at the strangest moments and in the most unsuspecting forms. Salvation is a second chance that I never expected, and this second chance came from someone who has now lived twice. I only hope that I am brave enough to accept this chance that has been placed before me. I’ll have to take another leap, be vulnerable, and put my trust in someone else to catch me. This courage could set me free.

It feels like the black clouds of my past are finally behind me and I have the strength and courage to move forward into a future that will be decided solely by me. It feels like I’ve been sleepwalking since I fell from Heaven, and now Michael’s shaken me awake.

I won’t be forced down a path by fate or ruled by fear. I won’t let anyone, or anything, stand in my way. This is my decision, and while it may be one that I one day come to regret, today I embrace it.

Embrace it fearfully, that is. I don’t think my apprehension will fade so quickly.

It’s going to take a while for me to unlearn what I have been taught in Hell. Fear’s been my life—causing fear, typically. It’s not as pleasant when the tables are turned on me.

I remember what Michael said about how being good isn’t easy. It takes work, a concentrated effort to do what is right. And for me, this effort will be doubled, as I am forced to redefine what is right and what is wrong. Screw the laws of Heaven and Hell; I’ll make my own.

Perhaps I can convince Michael to run away from me, flee the restrictive grip of the angels and demons, and figure out where to go from there. I’ve battled horrible things before, and I’m sure to battle horrible things in the future, but with Michael, this threat feels manageable, defeatable, even. I may not have faith in Heaven or Hell, but I have a new faith in myself and a growing trust in Michael. I recognized earlier that he had the power to change the world, and maybe I do too.

I know it’s going to be difficult, but I’m determined to turn over a new leaf, so to speak. I’ll put in the effort, and I’ll have Michael next to me for help, just as I’ll be there for him. He won’t let me fall asleep again, drift back out into the dark waters of evil. He’ll be my lighthouse off of a cold black ocean, reminding me what I’m fighting against. Or what I’m fighting for.

***

Acres of land spin below me as I fly on, leaving the afternoon sun of the west for the twilight streaked sky of the east. Farms and cities rush by with people mulling about in miniature.

I pull my amulet out of my shirt and think of Azael. I can’t tell him about my change of heart.

Bad choice of words,
I think to myself dryly.

I hate lying to him, but I’ve painted myself into a corner. I won’t let him hurt Michael, and I refuse to let him rope me back down to Hell. So my only option is to keep up my ruse and hope he buys it. And why shouldn’t he? As far as he knows, I have no motives to lie.