The World Ends at Five & Other Stories (7 page)

She answered the door anyway.

Stephen looked up and around at the towering buildings. He looked at the people on the sidewalks, some of them rushing to wherever they had to be, others with no place to go resigned to a life on the street. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, and his heart went out to these
children of the Creator who had no clue as to what they were facing this night.

“How will it end?” whispered Stephen.

Andrew walked ahead, swiftly, never bothering to stop and take in the marvels around him. They meant little in the greater scheme. “The storm is coming. The rain of fire will drown the city.”

Stephen looked up again. The sky above them was dark but cloudless. Yet looking back he could see that out over the bay the storm was advancing towards the land. The angel gave a little shiver and felt another pang of remorse for these hapless souls who had no idea they were going into battle, much less were they prepared for it.

“Miss Abernathy,” Lucien said, reclining comfortably in his desk chair, “I have had my eye on you for quite some
time.”

Doria
shifted slightly in the chair she’d been shown to. The place was dark and unbelievably warm for a room made of so much glass. What made her the most nervous was that she could hardly see the man in front of her.

There was the soft creak of leather and springs as
Lucien rose and came around the desk to lean over her. “That better?” he asked. But she would not look directly at him, so he rose to full height to tower over her instead.

“Did you know, Miss Abernathy,” he began, suddenly very interested
in
his
fingernails,
“that
you
are
the
only righteous person in this city?”

Doria
allowed herself a brief glance at the man,
t
hen
looked away quickly, blushing.

“You’re frightened of me,” Lucien said with the vague nod of an analyst. “There’s no need to be. I’ve gone to great pains to bring you here safely. I need you here. As long as you are here in my city, nothing can harm
me or it
. Now, would you like a drink?”

This time,
Doria
allowed herself an extended look at the man as he gestured to someone who’d been standing in a corner of the room near the bar. It was dark, but as he turned toward the windows to look out, the lights of the city brought his pale features into better focus. He was attractive, she decided, in an aristocratic way. The dark suit made his silver-blond hair appear to shine of its own accord, as if lit from something inside. But for all his beauty and manners, she still didn’t like him.

The shadowy figure came over to hand her a glass of something that might have been wine. It was a woman in a tight dress, copper hair falling to her waist. The woman scowled at
Doria
, handed her the drink, and returned to her corner.

Doria
looked into the glass, glanced again at the man’s stiff back as he stared out the window at “his city,” bit her lip and began silently to cry.

Andrew’s head swiveled suddenly to the right and his lip curled.

“We shouldn’t have told them why we are here,”
said Stephen quietly.

“As
if
lying
were
an
option?”
snarled
the increasingly irritated Andrew.

“Silence might have been,” the younger angel suggested, though there was little conviction in his voice. “Still,
I
don’t
suppose
there
is
any
way
we’re
going
to
lose.
. .” He gave a little sigh that might have signaled regret, if angels feel such things.

“This way,” Andrew instructed sharply, setting off in a new direction.

“Miss Abernathy,” Lucien sighed without turning, “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

Doria
only sobbed harder in trying to stop. After a
long moment, Lucien finally turned and crossed to her. Shoving a handkerchief at her, he said more harshly, “Stop that!”

She took the handkerchief and sniffled into it, not looking up
but
very
aware
of
his
frown as
he
towered above her. Slowly, however, the displeasure melted into something more like curiosity. He leaned against the edge of his desk and tilted his head. “Were you never tempted to do
anything
wrong?” he asked abruptly.

The woman in the corner of the room stirred, and a strange
growling
noise
came
from
where
she
stood. “Quiet!” Lucien shouted at her over his shoulder.

Doria
dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s not right,” Lucien said, standing again, starting to pace. “It’s
not.
. .
human
.” He whirled on her suddenly. “You are human, aren’t you?”

Doria
opened her mouth, but she was too startled
by the question to speak.

He came close to her, bent over her, took her chin in his hand and began to peer into her face. “You’re not an angel. What else might you be?”

Doria
started to draw back, but his firm hold prevented it. His grip felt as if it could break bone if he so wished. “Please, I don’t understand.”

He let go of her, began pacing again. “What good is it? Not that I’m not grateful, mind you. I am in need of a righteous person at the moment and you are the only one qualified.”

Doria
cleared her throat a little. “Can I
ask.
. . I mean
,
do you mind if I ask what this is all about?” Her voice was a thin, silver string in the darkness.

“It’s about the end of the world. And I’ll bet you
didn’t even know you had a starring role.” He stopped in front of her, leaned in again, cornering her in the chair by putting his hands on either arm. “Now, let’s talk about temptation.”

Andrew stopped so shortly, Stephen nearly ran into him. They lifted their eyes to the building in front of them; it was higher than any of the others they’d passed. The elegant brass sign over the door announced it to be “Ames Enterprises.”

They went inside.

“Lucien, don’t!” Jezebel’s voice was ragged and hoarse with a mixture of fear and rage. She took a step forward, but that was as far as she dared go.

He turned to her with a sneer. “Jealous, pet? Don’t you like this new game?”

“If you tempt her--”

“It will all be over. Go ahead, I’d like to see you try.”

Lucien’s head turned towards the door; the rest of him was perfectly still. A slow, cold smile creased his features. “Andrew. How long has it been?”

“Not long enough.”

"
And who is your friend?
Come
,
be polite
. Introduce
us.”

Andrew did not move or speak. Stephen stood next
to him, studying his expression, trying to understand the depth of the hatred within the older angel. He couldn’t. He’d never seen anything like it before, and he hoped to never see it again; it hurt him physically, made him squint against the darkness, not of the office, but of Andrew himself.

Stephen’s gaze then moved to Lucien. Strangely
enough, he looked like any other angel. But of course, Stephen reasoned, he would. Lucifer had been the angel of light and music, and here they all were in a dark, silent room, with nothing but the city lights and
moonglow
to give them anything to see by.

“DoyouthinkIcan’
ttempther
?”Lucien demanded. “Don’t you think I could, if I tried?”

“Pride, Lucifer,” Andrew warned smugly. “Do you remember what it goes before?”

“A fall. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it will be
mine.”

Stephen’s eyes widened slightly at this outrageous twisting of scripture.
That’s how he does it
, he thought.
That’s how he confuses people about what to believe.

In
her
chair,
Doria
had
pivoted
to
watch
the
proceedings.
“Get
the
girl,
Stephen,”
the
one
called Andrew said. The other one moved towards her, but Lucien stepped into his path.

“I wouldn’t.” The voice was low and smooth and
deadly.

Stephen looked at Lucien, then back at Andrew. He
l
ooked at the girl. And suddenly, he couldn’t see.

The storm clouds had blocked out the moon. They had blocked out all light from the city. The office was pitch
black.

In
the
corner,
Jezebel
struck
the
lighter
and
lit some candles that were sitting on the bar.

Outside, there was a crack of thunder. It was low, but it was building, like a large cat growling in its throat.

Lucien shook his
head. “No. I
will
not lose this
game.”

Jezebel strolled over, lighting a cigarette. “I think
you already have, babe,” she said with the cigarette between her teeth. She shoved the pack and the lighter back into his
suitcoat
pocket.

Lucien shoved her away and pointed to
Doria
. “I have her here! There are rules, even to this! As long as she is here, nothing can happen to this city!”

“That
doesn’t
necessarily
mean
nothing
can
happen to
you
,” said Andrew.

One of Lucien’s long, white hands went to his forehead, fluttered there a moment. It was the only sign that might convey something like desperation or panic on his part. “You know, Andrew,” he said after a long moment, “you should have come with me. I could have used a wit like yours. I’m sure it’s less than appreciated where you
are.”

“The girl, Stephen,” Andrew said flatly.

Stephen moved forward again, but Lucien caught at his arm. The pain and anger in Lucien’s eyes made Stephen wince, not in fear, but in pity. Stephen understood that it was as close to begging as Lucien would come--he would not speak it, but the expression pleaded with Stephen not to do it.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Andrew barked, breaking the momentary connection. “Disobedience is not an option.”

“It was for me,” Lucien said. “And several others.”

“And you’ll pay the price for it,” Andrew pointed
out.

Gently, Stephen removed Lucien’s hand from his arm. Lucien did not protest. His eyes were searching the office for something, some way around this, some loophole in his contract. He finally focused on Andrew, his eyes narrowing
in
thought.
He
smiled
slightly.
And
then
the room became excruciatingly bright.

“Good
Christ,
Lucien,”
Jezebel
exclaimed somewhat dryly as she turned her head and shut her eyes as tightly as possible, “you still have it.”

Stephen gathered
Doria
to himself to protect her, although he wasn’t exactly sure she needed it. The light did not bother him at all; Heaven itself was a thousand times brighter. But, he noti
ced, it bothered Andrew a great
deal.

Lucien’s light had thrown Andrew’s being into darkness. If a black hole had passed by a supernova, the contrast could not have been greater. Stephen found himself unable to look at his companion.

“I have won, Andrew.” The voice seemed to echo through the office. Stephen found it easy to imagine the foundation of the building was quaking in response to the sound. “I’ve made you hate.”

Andrew gave a low growl of pure fury and shouted,
“Get her out of here, Stephen!”

The young angel braved a look at his elder, but he could see no expression, only blackness. He began to tug
Doria
towards the office door, but something caught at his
arm.

It was Jezebel. “Take me with you!”

“Oh, no,” Lucien said evenly, turning to her. “Changing loyalties so quickly? The battle isn’t even won, and you’re already collecting on bets!”