Chapter Fifteen Charlotte
Chapter Fifteen
Charlotte
Nobody ever said this would involve swimming.
Or parting a literal sea, for that matter.
My stomach hardens, panic and adrenaline shooting through me at the sight of the rapidly rising water.
The tide is coming at us from all sides, the movement of that massive wave causing a ripple effect all around us.
It surges up and over my knees within seconds, nearly knocking me off my feet as bile burns the back of my throat.
Greed and I didn’t even begin to cover this in training.
And from the looks of it, none of the other Originals expected this either.
I glance behind me, desperately searching for Lucifer, for some indication that he might know which Original this seal belongs to, but already he’s snaking his way through the water toward his angelic siblings.
To bend ears. Make deals. Change hearts and minds.
What he does best, actually.
And neither he nor Azrael can help me.
It has to be me to open the seal. With the power he gifted me.
Or one of his sinful siblings.
My heart palpitates.
The six other Originals stare up at the massive black tidal wave barreling toward us over a dozen miles out like none of them can even believe what they’re seeing, the incoming surge in the distance now so tall it casts an incoming shadow over the One World Trade building.
And the surrounding water is already up to my waist.
What the fuck was I thinking?
I can’t do this.
I feel myself choke as an overwhelming sense of dread fills me.
This is so much worse than every worst-case scenario I ran through my head.
“This is way above my pay grade, lovey,” Azmodeus says, before he snaps his fingers and—
“Really, Az?” I screech as he disappears into the ether.
So much for besties.
There’s nothing keeping any of the others from following suit.
Except the divine favors they owe me.
I glance desperately toward them. Time to cash in. “Azrael, start getting as many people out as you can. Mimi, guard Lucifer. The rest of you, help Azrael save whoever you can,” I snap. “Now.”
Azrael moves into action, barking orders to the remaining Originals just as Mimi leaves in search of Lucifer.
Adrenaline coils inside me, a tingling sensation taking over my extremities.
Which one of these sinful assholes could possibly be—
I throw up my hands, trying and failing to do anything to stop the incoming flood.
My palms glow, and a blast of celestial light bursts out.
But it accomplishes nothing.
My breathing goes shallow as I panic.
The dark water is up to my chest and rising quickly, and I’m pretty sure it’s not regular water, which means Michael must have done something to alter the seals now that he knows our plan after all, and my immortal life might actually be . . .
A ghostly face swims past, there and gone in an instant.
But I don’t have time to consider it.
Parting the Atlantic Ocean like it’s the freaking Red Sea and I’m Moses wasn’t exactly on my bingo card this morning.
What in the celestial fuck?!
“Whoa, what a wave,” Sloth says as he floats beside me. He stares up at the biblical flood heading toward us like he wishes he had his surfboard.
“Sloth!” I shriek as realization hits.
Who else would God make work this hard to do anything?
I turn, ready to beg for whatever help he might give me.
Just as he slicks back his wet hair and says, “Well, I’m out.”
I dive over an incoming wave, barely grabbing him in the nick of time when a large piece of debris slams into me—a section of metal scaffolding from a nearby building.
Why is there so much construction in this damn city?
The scaffolding knocks us off balance, sending us both into the water’s depths.
But I don’t let go.
I tighten my hold, kicking and fighting against the current and Sloth’s superior swimming skills, using every bit of muscle Azrael and I have been training lately.
I kick like my life depends on it.
The next thing I know, we resurface, Sloth struggling against me. We’re floating halfway between the middle of his Hamptons beach house, the ether, and State Street, the rushing water flowing between all three.
Apparently, God doesn’t care if His tribulations defy the laws of human physics.
Because of course He doesn’t.
I fight against Sloth and the current, realizing one of my heels is now dangling from my—
“Oh no, you don’t, you lazy asshole,” I snarl, kicking them both off just as my foot connects with the top of a submerged mailbox.
I tighten my hold on Sloth and thrust upward.
A moment later, the hole in the ether is gone, and we’re in the middle of the rushing tide again. But that massive wave isn’t getting any smaller.
Holy shit.
It doesn’t matter that I’m immortal.
I won’t be able to live with myself if I allow Michael to wipe out half the freaking city.
If I don’t act now, people will die.
Switching tactics, instead of fighting against Sloth, I manage to use my hold on him to clamber onto his back, shadowing us both onto a nearby rooftop. I’ve mastered that at least.
“Do something!” I shout, gesturing wildly toward the wave.
We’re both soaked from head to toe, and I’m pretty sure my running mascara’s making me look like a feral raccoon, but that massive wall of water is drawing closer by the second.
It blacks out the sky overhead.
And I don’t have any time left to persuade him.
“I’m not sure what you want me to—”
“Sloth!” I scream, throwing up both my hands like I might actually be able to—
The wave and my powers connect, its weight hitting me like an unstoppable force, so powerful the wind’s knocked out of me.
My knees buckle.
Holy shit!
How is water that fucking heavy?
My arms, my legs—my every muscle screams in agony as all my fear, all my anger, rises toward the surface, funneling toward the wave. I try desperately to shield myself from it, to hold it all in, like I always do, but somehow, it bursts out of me.
The massive wave comes to an abrupt and quivering halt, supported only by my—
My anger.
The fury I just unleashed.
Like my power really is connected to my rage.
Azrael and Greed have been telling me that all along, but it’s one of the many emotions my father and the Righteous and so many others like them taught me I should be ashamed of. Lest I be a witch, a jezebel, or worse, a whore.
Every terrifying feminine archetype Greed’s been bullying me into embodying.
Lucifer’s already made me both his Madonna and his whore, and for the first time since I accepted that he and I are fated, I feel it inside me.
My power. My rage.
At everything that’s happened to us, at all that’s being done to humanity.
It’s there alongside Lucifer’s, tempting and drawing out my own.
I hold my position, my arms starting to shake.
My whole body is on fire.
My muscles screaming.
But I’ve survived far worse at the hands of my father, and then in Lucifer’s playroom.
Though not for nearly as long as I’ve been holding this.
My arms start to waver.
But then I think of all the humans who are going to die if my father and the Righteous get to have their way. The “salvation” they’ve so desperately bargained for with Michael and Lilith. And then I’m furious in a whole new way.
Like hell will I ever allow them to win.
My arms hold steady, my resolve strengthening, and somehow, I manage to turn my head toward Sloth, that small movement testing every last bit of my control as I snarl, “Do. Something.”
The demonic quality in my voice is new.
A little like Lilith when she turns from one into three.
Sloth must recognize the similarity, because he pales slightly, sputtering as he tries to find some excuse. “Our deal’s off, remember? I didn’t even want to rebel against Dad. I slept through the whole damn thing, and He still kicked me out, okay? What exactly do you expect me to—”
The furious look I give him coupled with my serpentine eyes mirrored back in his gaze as the flood starts to retreat a little bit farther must be enough to show him I mean business.
“You. Owe. Me.”
Hellfire suddenly ignites in my eyes. I can feel it.
Or maybe it was already there.
“Too easy for your first time?” Michael calls from an adjacent rooftop, where a few of his angels and Lucifer’s demons appear to be locked in a battle. I begin to shake from head to toe.
He and the other archangels have taken temporary refuge there. Along with my now vulnerable mortal husband.
Or should I say “soon-to-be husband”?
I’m done waiting to heal before I allow myself to be happy.
If we survive this, that is.
Mimi is nowhere in sight, and she was supposed to be guarding Lucifer.
Another burst of righteous fury barrels out of me.
The injustice, the pain of it, is unbearable.
I cry out, whether for God or Lucifer, I’m not entirely sure, as the first of a plague of locusts Michael’s now summoned pelts me directly in the face.
My knees start to tremble.
You have got to be kidding me, I think as the cloud of insects descends, casting an opposing shadow over the north side of the city.
The side I can’t currently guard, because I’m too busy.
My legs bend, the weight of the flood, of God’s wrath, of everything finally causing my knees to tremble just as I manage to scream to Sloth, “Whatever it is you want, I’ll give it to you!”
These are the conversations I have when I’m trying to save the world, apparently.
Being good at begging has its advantages.
Sloth’s expression turns wicked as the massive wave teeters. “Get me back into Heaven again, and then you have yourself a—”
I sink beneath the oppressive weight threatening to crush me. And then I see it there, reflected in the wave. God’s judgment. I don’t know how I know that’s what it is, I just do. All the distorted faces. The memories.
Every moment of inaction where I ever sat by while someone else was . . .
“Deal!” I shriek.
One of those ghostly faces surges, and my knees give out.
I have no idea what kind of promise I’m making.
Or if I can even keep it.
The next thing I know, I smash down into the pavement, my skin ripping open while the sea, the sky, and the locusts overhead converge, blacking out everything.
“God help us,” I mutter.
But I guess that Big Asshole and His triple-headed wife/creator are exactly who got us into this damn mess in the first place.
Mother. Fucker.