Soul Conquered (9 page)

Josh

This is an idiotic and
dangerous plan. In other words, it’s like most of my plans. What’s afterlife
without a few risks, right?

I knock on Mr. Griffith’s door, and it opens almost
immediately, admitting me to the usual pool hall where we used to meet. It
hasn’t been more than a month, but it feels like forever ago. The memories hit
me with a pang I’m not expecting. I miss Grace so much that I didn’t notice how
much I’ve missed hanging out with Mr. Griffith. The Mr. Griffith I knew before
he became all fatalistic and sent Grace to Hell, that is.

He’s seated on the edge of a pool table, papers spread
out before him and what looks like a giant feather in his left hand. He glances
up, surprised, whether by my presence or that he’s now in a pool hall, I have
no idea.

My hands automatically seek out my jean pockets. “Hi.
Sorry to bother you. I know our appointment isn’t for another hour.”

“Josh? Of course you aren’t bothering me. Come in.”
The feather, which I realize is really a pen, disappears along with all the
papers, and he turns to me with his usual undivided attention.

“Listen, Mr. Griffith, I’ve been thinking, and I have
some questions that I was afraid to ask…before. But they’re important.” Great
job so far, Josh. I shake my head, trying to formulate my words.

“Shoot.”

“The rules. You know, the ones you always go on about?
The ones that got Grace thrown from Heaven? Where do they come from?”

Mr. Griffith’s eyebrows rise so high on his head, I
wonder if they’ll float right off. I guess he wasn’t expecting that question.

“Well, most of them come from The Man Upstairs. Some
things are up to me. But the big ones—things like whether humans should
be free to go back and forth to Earth after death—well, those came
directly from Him.”

I shift my weight and pull up a stool of my own. I was
afraid he’d say that. “And there’s really nothing you can do about it?”

His expression turns pained, and he reaches out to
place a hand on my shoulder. “I know you miss Grace. I do, too. It hurt to send
her down there. But I tried to warn her, Josh, you know that. In answer to your
question, can I disobey? No. I’ve seen what happens to Archangels when they
disobey. I cannot risk it.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. “What happens?” I press.
He didn’t say he couldn’t do it, just that he wasn’t willing to risk it. Those
are two very different things.

“They are thrown from Heaven. I can’t imagine a worse
fate for an Archangel. That’s what happened to Lucifer, you know. Now look at
him.”

Anger swells inside of me, and I can’t hold it back.
Screw it. I jump up from the chair. “So you’re saying that Grace being thrown
from Heaven is okay because
you’re
still here?” Grace is a better Angel
than he ever was.

“No! Josh, that’s not what I meant. I’m so sorry.
Please, calm down. If it were a choice between saving Grace from circumstances
beyond her control… But she chose her lot. That’s what free will is. That’s the
gift The Man Upstairs bestowed upon humankind.”

I’m speechless. I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging
open. Does he think she made some clear-cut, easy choice for selfish reasons? “She
did it to save someone she loves. She sacrificed herself for him, like I did
for her—only in my case it earned me wings, not a sentence in Hell.”

Mr. Griffith looks away, back rigid, as he considers
what to say.

“Josh, I’m not going to argue about Grace. Are you
going to help me in Heaven or not? I’m a very busy being.”

“Busy giving up.” I can’t hold back. Not anymore. The
time for tact is over.

Mr. Griffith rises to meet me. He’s taller, and
there’s something very intimidating in the way he stands so regally and almost
unnaturally before me. “I am not giving up, Joshua. I am looking to the future,
to the next wave of time. I tried my best to prevent it, but it happened, just
as foretold; true—just as the word of The Man Upstairs always is. And now
it’s time to move on. I understand that might be difficult for you, and I want
you to know I’m not hurt by your words. I understand you are lashing out
because you’re in pain.”

Well, that’s great news.

I suck in a breath and do my best to control my
temper. At least he hasn’t explicitly forbidden me from doing anything; he just
said he’s not going to help. At least, that’s what I choose to hear.

“One more question, Mr. Griffith.”

He crosses his hands in his lap and waits.

“How do I talk to The Man Upstairs?”

To his credit, he doesn’t overreact to this request. He
just chuckles. “You can talk to Him at any time. Just pray.”

“And He’ll answer?” I ask, glancing skyward despite
being in Heaven already.

“Rarely.”

I nod, defeated. “I see. I should let you get back
to…whatever it is you’re doing.”

I glance back on my way out to find Mr. Griffith with
quill in hand, papers back on the table. “Just so long as you don’t let your
feelings get in the way of learning your job as a greeter,” he mutters.

But if you ask me, my real job is to stop Armageddon
before it starts.

Noah

The senator is an idiot. If I
were a public official—
when
I’m a public official—and I had
an affair, I’d never make out in front of an open window. Not that I would have
an affair. There isn’t a woman on Earth who can hold a candle to Keira.

I snap a few more pics with my phone as he gets hot
and heavy with some lady in a black lace bra. She’s probably his secretary or
something else equally cliché. I shift my weight in the bushes where I’m hidden,
though I could easily glamour the guards if I needed to. I need to ask Lucifer
if there are any other nifty powers he hasn’t told me about.

Inside, the senator lowers the lights, but he isn’t
smart enough to put them out completely. Then he messes with something below my
sight line while the girl waits, biting her lip.

Closer. I have to get closer. So I creep out of my
hiding spot, crouched low, and pull myself up to peer over the windowsill.
Bingo. The senator and his mistress are about to do lines. He’s got it all set
up on the coffee table, right on the glass top, razor blade out, arranging the cocaine
just so.

I keep taking photos and then duck below their sight
line when the woman turns toward the window. Above me I hear the
click
as it’s shut tight and the
whoosh
as the blinds are drawn. Too late for
them, though. I have more than enough evidence to get him kicked out of office.
I laugh to myself, wondering if there’s anyone left in the world who’s actually
a good person like Grace was. Maybe she was the last of an endangered species.
Now look at her.

At the thought, I suddenly don’t feel like laughing
anymore.

She doesn’t belong with Lucifer. The idea is still
unsettling to me. I want her to go back to Heaven and be out of my life.

I’m walking away, down the sidewalk, when the senator’s
mansion springs to life behind me. Lights flood the grounds, dogs bark, and I
can hear shouts in the distance. But they won’t find me. I’m already halfway
down the block and cutting through someone’s backyard. I know how to get away
quickly. That’s something I learned before I ever met Lucifer. It was important
when I decided to start dealing. The key is to act like you’re not doing
anything wrong. Walk slowly and deliberately, with confidence. Besides, if they
find me now all I have to do is glamour them. But I don’t want to rely on magic.

Now I have more confidence than I ever did before.
Poor Keira could use some. She’s been beaten down by Lucifer over the years.
She acts like an abused animal whenever she’s in his presence. I hate seeing
her that way. It makes me hate him all the more. I have to teach her that
there’s nothing to fear now. That’s why I told her my plan when I knew Lucifer
was listening. I felt him. It’s time to let him know I’m not just his pawn.
Keeping him off balance means keeping my control.

I drop my phone back into my pocket and jump the next
fence.

There’s a pool in this yard. It’s lit from beneath, so
it glows an eerie blue as I skirt around it toward the next street and a new
direction. It looks so pristine; I bet the owners are just like our neighbors
and never use it. If I had a pool, I’d use it, not just let it sit out there
like some freaking birdbath. People get so obsessed with wealth that they
forget what’s important. They need someone to smack them upside the head and
remind them to appreciate what they have.

When I walk in my front door, I’m not expecting my
parents to be up and waiting for me on the couch. I do a double take, not
having seen them together in the house for at least a year. The last time I
spoke to either of them was over a month ago, and I’m not sure “we’re out of
Cheerios” counts as a conversation.

Mom tries to smile, but it’s so forced I’m afraid her
face might crack. “Noah. Out with friends?”

I try not to laugh.
Since when do you care?
I
almost say. “Yeah. Going to bed.” I turn toward the stairs.

“Want to watch some TV with us?” Dad’s voice nearly
makes me trip.

Is he serious? “Uh, no. Thanks. I’m beat.”

“Well, get some sleep then,” he says.

Mom adds, “We have an appointment tomorrow morning at
nine o’clock. So be up and dressed. I’ll make pancakes before we go.”

I turn slowly to see if maybe they’re possessed. But I
know actual Demons, and I doubt even they would be this evil—trying to
mess with my feelings after I’ve already given up on my parents. Pancakes were
always my favorite. Mom hasn’t made them since… Well, since before Grace’s
accident.

“What kind of appointment? I’m busy tomorrow.” I’m
planning on having sex with my girlfriend.

The folks exchange a look that nearly sets me over the
edge because I haven’t seen them in the same room, let alone acknowledging each
other, in a very long time. My mom sets a calloused hand on my dad’s knee
before she speaks. “We’re going to see someone who can help us all through this…time.”

Time
? “You mean help you get past
the death of the child you actually cared about?” It comes sliding out without
forethought. I’m tired, and I really didn’t want to go there now. Or ever. I
thought we had a mutual agreement of silence. I sigh and run a hand down my
face. “Never mind. Just go. Have fun. But I’m over it.”

I start skipping steps to get away faster, but my
dad’s voice catches me before I can make it out of earshot.

“You’re going, Noah. We all are. If I can take off of
work for this, then you can take a morning off of school.”

I let out a laugh then bite down on my lip. I’d
forgotten I even
had
school tomorrow. “You can’t force me.”

“Yes. We can. We’re still your parents, and you’re
still underage.”

I’m the fucking Antichrist and my parents are forcing
me to go to therapy? This is NOT happening. I could go right back down there
and use glamour to make them leave me alone. It would serve them right. But for
some reason the thought of doing that makes me feel ill. This whole
conversation needs to be
over
.

“Whatever.”

I finish my ascent to the sound of whispers, which
prickle the hairs on the back of my neck. I need to talk to Keira. She’ll fix
things and make me feel better. She’s always there for me.

Except when I burst inside my room, she isn’t there.

Lucifer is.

“I’m tired.” I sink down in the sofa nearest the
throne because, surprise, surprise, he’s already in it.

“I can imagine.”

“Where’s Keira?”

“She wasn’t busy when I checked in, so I borrowed her.”

Something in his voice makes me sit up and pay
attention. I examine his face and decide it’s humor I see behind his dark eyes.
I don’t like it. And all the anger and resentment and whatever else I feel
toward my parents focuses on him.

Take it easy, Noah
, I tell myself.
Don’t lose control.
You
have control
. But my hand tightens into a
fist against my jeans, and I can’t stop it from shaking with the urge to
strike.

“Where is she?” I ask, my voice a little too pleasant,
a little too easygoing.

His eyes flash with blue electricity. A warning. “Not
your concern.”

I stand and take a step toward him, smiling. “Of
course it is. I thought I was pretty clear about wanting Keira here. I’d like
to know what you have her doing.”

We stare into each other’s masks for a long time,
neither one of us willing to concede. “You don’t trust me,” Lucifer says. There
is no inflection in the words, but the statement somehow carries a great threat
behind it.

“You’re the Devil. I’d be an idiot to trust you.”

Lucifer stares at me blankly for a moment. Then he
laughs. He spins in place and laughs like the freaking Joker. Psycho. But if I
had to guess, I’d say he liked that response.

When he finishes, he comes over and pats me on the
back again, like we’re old buddies. “True enough. But I need you to at least
trust that we have the same objective, Noah. In fact, I like that you took the
initiative and went a step ahead. You’re a real go-getter. That’s good. But
next time, consult with me first. Understand?”

He squeezes my shoulder a little too tight.

“Sure,” I say, ducking beneath his arm to escape. “But
if you want my cooperation, you have to give a little, too. When I said I
wanted Keira, I didn’t mean for an hour. I meant permanently.”

Lucifer doesn’t face me, so I’m not sure how angry he
is. But I do know he’s unnaturally still.

“I suppose a young man like you has needs that go
beyond a single hour.” He turns and is all smiles again as he lights up a
cigar.

“No smoking in my room. Please.” I add the last
because it wasn’t meant as a challenge.

“You smoked every substance under the sun in here and
wallowed in your own filth up to a few weeks ago,” Lucifer says, making the
cigar disappear.

“That was before. I’m a different person now.”

“Mmmm.” Lucifer nods. “Keira is being punished. She
has…” He checks a gold Rolex on his wrist that, as far as I can tell, has no
numbers or dots or even hands. “One more hour. Then you can have her back. It’s
a done deal. Once in the Pit, there’s no exit until scheduled, you see.”

The Pit
? My stomach drops. “Why
did you punish her?”

“She likes you too much.” Lucifer shrugs. “Not good
for a Demon. But you go ahead and keep her. She’ll learn through conditioning
not to care, eventually. The Pit’s never failed me in that respect. And until
then? I’ll keep throwing her in while you’re away on business. No harm done.
I’ll just make the appointment with better timing.”

The anger that I barely held back before comes
bubbling up to the surface. Rage like I’ve felt only once before—during a
confrontation that ended in murder—threatens to drown me. I can almost
hear what Keira would say, though.
Don’t be a fool, Noah. Save it. Use it
against him the right way.

My words come out clipped and hoarse, but I do my best
to keep them civil. “You will never send her to the Pit again. If you don’t
like that, then you can take the job and shove it.”

The torches flare right up to the ceiling and
Lucifer’s shadow swells behind him until it takes on the shape of a horned
monster with glowing red eyes. The thing has to be at least nine feet tall. He’s
as angry as I am, but I don’t care. He needs me and won’t hurt
me—somehow, I know it.

“You’ve never actually hurt me or tried to punish me,”
I say. Maybe I’m crazy for challenging him like this, but I’ve had enough. “You
can’t hurt me, can you?”

“There are ways besides physical pain to hurt someone.
There is a price for everything, Noah,” he says quietly.

“No. No prices. No bargains. You don’t have to pay a
price, so I don’t, either.” I’m more confident than ever that he can’t, because
he didn’t answer the question directly.

“You don’t think I pay a price?” he hisses. “I was
thrown
from Heaven
. Tossed out like garbage.”

I consider him. “Didn’t you say you’d rather rule in
Hell than serve in Heaven or something like that?”

“Something like that.” He smirks. “You think you can
trust Keira? You can’t trust women. You can’t trust so-called ‘friends.’ You
can’t even trust parents. But me? I only tell the truth. You can count on that.
Go ahead and doubt me, but when she breaks your heart—and she will—don’t
come crawling to me.”

I blink, and he’s gone. I’m alone in my room, chewing
on his words. Everyone I’ve ever trusted
has
disappointed me. What if…

No
. He’s trying to throw me off my
game. I won’t let him get in my head.

Still…

My friends disappointed me.
Hale
. My family
disappointed me.
Grace. Mom. Dad
. Girls have disappointed me before.
Emily
.

Why do I keep trusting?