Chapter 27 Lucifer
Lucifer
Months later, the King of Hell walked into a bustling restaurant. A slight lull passed through the room as he entered—a common
occurrence when humans sensed his presence but didn’t understand what they were responding to. The patrons stared for a moment
before returning to their meals and conversations, even with the fine hairs raised on the backs of their necks. A hostess
came up to Lucifer, frazzled and pushing her glasses up her nose. She blushed as she looked at him and consulted her clipboard.
“Um, table for how many, sir?”
“I’m meeting someone,” he replied. “I believe they’re in the courtyard?”
“Oh, yes, of course. They said they were expecting a few more.” She gave him a dimpled smile. “Follow me, please.”
Several diners glanced up as he walked past, but Lucifer’s eyes were fixed on the arched doorway that led into a tiled courtyard bathed in sunlight.
Time had no meaning in Hell, but longing certainly continued marking it anyway, stubborn and consuming.
The hostess led him to three tables that had been pushed together to form a longer one, tucked in a vined and bright corner of the courtyard.
The tables were filled with laughing people making a toast with champagne flutes. Most of them were human.
“Here you go, sir,” the hostess said.
Lucifer ignored her, smiling at the girl sitting under a trailing honeysuckle vine. “Hello, beloved,” he said.
Galilee Kincaid looked up and burst into a smile so radiant it seared through him. Her copper hair was in long braids that
fell to her waist, and her inky eyes were lined in an electric blue.
“Luci!” she said. “You made it!”
She was wearing a flouncy crop top and tiny denim shorts, and when she jumped out of her chair to run to him, her thighs were
warm dark honey wrapped over sleek muscle. Galilee threw herself into his arms, and Lucifer held her tight to him, relishing
the burn of her touch, the way the fire seeped into his flesh, the way the flame scorched close to whatever he had left masquerading
as a soul.
It had taken her long weeks after the hellgate debacle before she’d been able to touch him again, but Lucifer hadn’t minded
the wait. Those weeks had surprised him with their sweetness: walking with her on the boardwalk by the river, their shoulders
close but never touching; the way he’d learned to observe every little gesture and movement she made because his gaze was
the only thing he could touch her with. He’d even delighted in how chaste it had felt. They’d talked endlessly, as if their
words could hold each other, could climb inside their skins and make it all better, and they’d had Leviathan as the most sinful
proxy, who took each of them in his mouth, in his hands, and gave them everything they couldn’t give each other. Lucifer had
returned to Hell sparingly in those weeks, reluctant to leave Galilee so soon after her brush with Deziel, but also respectful
of her separate relationship with Leviathan. If it had been anyone else, the Devil didn’t think he would’ve been able to share
her affections, but it was Leviathan. Somehow, it all fit. They all fit.
Galilee had taken him to the Kincaid land but refused to let him near any of her family. “They’re not ready,” she’d said, “and I don’t want to argue with anyone. I want it to be just you and me.”
She’d walked him to the creek, and as they waded into the shallows, that was when Galilee had finally taken his hand for the
first time. Lucifer had nearly dropped to his knees right there in the water, flooded with relief and gratitude and Galilee’s
clear, sweet fire singing all the way down to his bones. She had smiled shyly at him, and he’d kissed her palm, and then Celestial
had stomped in and rolled her eyes at them before passing out hand pies she’d brought in a brown paper bag. As they sat on
the rocks with their bare feet dangling in the water, sharing a meal, Galilee’s fingers had remained curled in Lucifer’s palm,
like an uncertain bird finally trusting that it could rest. On their way back, he’d stopped them in a clearing under the old
trees, and he’d finally claimed the dance she owed him. Gali had cried quietly when she wrapped her arms around him. She told
him about burying Gifty Williams’s bones as they swayed together in the creeping dusk, and Lucifer had kissed her and kissed
her as burning tears slicked down his face. He would never stop being grateful for the fire he couldn’t turn down, for Galilee’s
forgiveness of both herself and him, for the soft miracle of her returned touch.
In the restaurant’s courtyard, Galilee stood on her toes to plant a kiss on Lucifer’s cheek. He ran a hand over her thighs,
letting his fingers pause to dig into her, just a little, just to remind her that he’d always want her. “I see training with
Leviathan has been going well,” he commented, and Galilee cut her eyes at him. Ever since the encounter with Deziel and with
the possibility of Michael looming in the future, Leviathan had insisted on training Galilee so she could fight whatever was
sent her way and gain more control over her power.
“Your prince is a fucking monster,” Galilee complained to Lucifer, then lowered her voice. “Almost wish I was still human
so he’d take it easy on me.”
“You were never human.” He chuckled, leaning down to steal a proper kiss. Her mouth looked so soft.
The table booed loudly, banging their silverware against the wood.
“Get a fucking room!” Bonbon yelled, her eyes bright with glee. In an unexpected turn, she was now dating Oriak?, who had
started courting Bonbon properly after the dust from the hellgate had settled. The heiress’s arm was draped around the back
of Bonbon’s chair, and she raised a cool eyebrow at the Devil. Lucifer suspected that Oriak? still didn’t rate him worth a
damn, but she tolerated him for the sake of the other two. Bonbon, on the other hand, had forgiven him for being both terrifying
and the actual Devil in exchange for stories she could work into her horror novels.
Oriak? signaled to a server and shook her head at Galilee. “We’ve been over this,” she scolded. “You’re both banned from public
displays of affection until further notice.”
“You’re a hater,” Gali replied, returning to her seat as Lucifer took the chair on her right. He winked at Bonbon, who promptly
threw a bread roll at him.
“There’s nothing to hate on.” Oriak? leaned back slightly as the server refilled her champagne. “There simply has to be a
reasonable limit to how many times your friends can listen to you two fucking in a bathroom at a party.”
“Yeah,” Bonbon added. “We literally can’t take you anywhere.”
The server blushed all the way to the tips of their ears as they retreated from the table, and Lucifer watched in amusement
as Galilee flushed under her freckles.
“It didn’t happen that many times,” she said.
Oriak? snorted. “We placed a bet last time, to see which of you would come the loudest.”
Galilee gasped and stared at both of them, her flush deepening. “You didn’t. At the book launch after-party?”
“Sorry, love.” Bonbon gave her a sympathetic look. “It was easy money.”
Galilee buried her face in her hands, and Oriak? passed Lucifer a menu. There was still an empty chair at the table.
“How long are you back for this time?” Oriak? asked, and Lucifer hid a smile. Oriak? always spoke as if he was in and out
on business trips, rather than dropping into Hell itself.
There had been work to do on the other side after Galilee had sealed the hellgate, and Lucifer had eventually gone back to
Hell with most of the princes, leaving Leviathan to watch over both the sealed gate and Galilee. The others had no desire
to remain topside after what had happened, and they still wanted Galilee out of the picture, especially Belial. It would be
a long time before they forgave him and Leviathan for choosing Galilee. The Devil didn’t mind.
He was busy calculating other threats. Deziel was still somewhere on earth, and Lucifer was worried that she might come after
Galilee. A Fallen angel with nothing to lose might be broken, sure, but that could make her even more dangerous than before,
especially since Michael had refused to disclose if he’d left Deziel in possession of her powers. For all Lucifer knew, the
angel could be lying in wait in the Kincaids’ woods again or walking through Salvation in a skin none of them knew. When Lucifer
confronted Michael about it, the archangel had been incredibly unhelpful, as always.
“We are not responsible for Deziel’s actions or whereabouts,” Michael had said. “She is out of favor and Fallen.” There was
a glint in his eye as he spoke.
Lucifer had sighed. “So you set her loose, absolve yourselves of any responsibility for what she does next, and you watch
what happens. Are you hoping she’ll hurt Galilee since you can’t?”
Michael shrugged eloquently. “You and your lover seem to make many enemies, Luci.”
“You’d like me to think so,” he said, soft as a noose. “But my only enemy stands before me right now.”
Michael had laughed then, utterly without fear or guilt. “Well played, Luci. Make sure you keep your lover safe then, body
and soul.” His smile was cold and anointed as he lifted up into the sky. It had made Lucifer hesitant to leave Galilee to
return to Hell, but she was safe with Leviathan. Sometimes, when Lucifer came to visit Salvation, he’d hover with a glamour
in the air outside her loft and watch through the window as she slept in the curve of Leviathan’s arms, their chests rising
and falling in unison. It was an odd feeling, witnessing their intimacy from afar, yet when he returned to them, they both
welcomed him easily, together or separately.
At the table, Galilee had heard Oriak?’s question, and she turned to Lucifer, her eyes bright with tentative hope. “Do you
know yet?” she asked. “How long it’s gonna be before you have to return to Hell?”
Lucifer took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Years,” he answered.