Chapter 24
The pain was worse than anything Effie had ever felt before, worse than dying and every bloody moment that had preceded it. Her knees cracked against the floor, one hand clutching at her chest, the other clawing at the ground.
Finn dry-heaved in front of her, on his hands and knees, knuckles white around the leg of the chair that had toppled over when he’d fallen.
His eyes were shut and she was glad for it.
Maybe he hadn’t hated her for the mistakes she’d made before, but surely he would hate her for this. God knew, she hated herself for it.
Lucifer sighed and shook his head. “You really are the architect of your own unhappiness, Eithrig.” With a skip in his step, her skirted around her.
“Did you really think if Fionnlagh chose option one I was going to let him live?” He stopped in front of Finn and nudged him in the ribs with the toe of his shoe.
“Come on. Get up. It’s no fun to kill a man who’s already lying down. ”
She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t hold. She smacked a hand against the floor and growled, black bleeding into her eyes, her field of vision narrowing. “You said—”
“I say a lot of things.” Lucifer chuckled and crouched down in front of her. “If you think I mean half of them, you’re dumber than you look.”
A flicker of movement in her periphery stopped her heart.
Belphegor placed a finger to his lips as he sneaked up behind Lucifer, walking silently on the balls of his feet.
In his other hand was the bottle of whiskey from which she and Finn had been drinking.
He held it by the neck like a bat and, when he was close enough, swung.
Glass shattered against the floor, whiskey splattering against her skin.
Belphegor was stealthy, but not stealthy enough. One second Lucifer was crouched beside her, the next he was up, his fingers wrapped around Belphegor’s throat. “Really? You thought that would work?”
“No,” Belphegor choked out, face turning purple. “But this will.”
With a swiftness that stole her breath, Abaddon slammed into Lucifer’s left side, tackling him to the ground. Someone groaned, she couldn’t tell who, too many limbs flailing and fists flying as the two tussled atop the whiskey and glass covering the floor.
“A little—fuck—help?” Abaddon grunted.
Asmodeus plucked a cue stick off the wall and tossed it to Belphegor, who brandished it like a spear, driving the blunt, chalked tip through Lucifer’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground.
Lucifer howled, and the sound seemed to incite the others.
With a bloodthirsty grin, Beelzebub threw himself into the fray, fists first. Tendrils of conjured smoke poured from Leviathan’s fingertips, wrapping around Lucifer’s ankles, binding his legs together.
“Come, Satan,” Mammon said. “I believe the others have this well in hand. Let us ready a cell for our lord and master.”
He disappeared, leaving behind a thick pall of dark green smoke. Sympathy filling his eyes, Satan gave her a sorrowful nod before apporting away, white wisps lingering in the air where he’d stood.
Standing over Lucifer, Beelzebub planted one foot in the center of his back and grabbed a fistful of his hair, wrenching back his head.
He struggled against their hold, thrashing against the bonds that tied his ankles and wrists, bucking back against Beelzebub.
More tendrils of dark smoke poured from Leviathan’s fingertips, Asmodeus’s, too, and for the first time since the fight had broken out, Lucifer looked something other than enraged.
Fear flickered across his face as the tendrils of smoke writhed toward him, slithering up his nostrils and between his lips.
All at once, the fight left him, his body sagging in their hold, still conscious but subdued. His eyes flashed with contempt as Effie finally managed to drag herself not to her feet, but up onto her knees, which made them level.
She wished she had something eloquent to say, some biting quip to deliver that would haunt him for the rest of his days. But she was too weary to be clever, too heartbroken to try.
“I hope it was worth it,” she said.
Abaddon gave a nod to the group, and the pressure in the room changed slightly, her ears popping as they disappeared. Only Belphegor remained.
Effie sank back on her haunches, eyeing the mess of glass and wood shards, whiskey and blood and soot covering the floor. Behind her, Finn moved, letting out a long sigh.
It made her a coward, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, for fear of the condemnation she might see on his face.
“What happens now?” she asked Belphegor instead.
“Judecca for Lucifer,” he said, dusting his hands together. “He was, after all, a traitor to…Well, who did he not betray? As for Hell, we all agreed that, at least for now, we will rule in his stead. A collective. An oligarchy.”
Effie…didn’t know how she felt about that. It was better that than an iron-fisted dictatorship at the very least.
“And you?” he asked her. “What will you do?”
“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t really have a plan. Considering”—she waved a hand in the air—“you know, everything.”
Finding out all demons had souls, that she actually owned hers. Almost everything she’d spent the last four hundred–some years believing about demons shaken in twenty minutes.
Looking over her shoulder and then back to her, Belphegor frowned. “I meant, what will you do now that your soul bond has been severed and you are no longer married?”
Hearing it put so plainly struck her hard. It must’ve had the same effect on Finn, because he let out a grunt as if he’d been punched in the gut.
She shrugged weakly.
Belphegor stared at them, looking as if there was something he wanted to say, but didn’t know how or if he should. After a moment, he nodded. “I wish you happiness, Effie. You deserve that.”
He offered her a small, subdued smile and took his leave.
Now that it was just the two of them, she had no excuse to keep delaying the inevitable. With a deep breath, Effie steeled herself and turned.
Finn was leaning against the base of the pool table, his legs stretched out in front of him. He was already staring at her, looking as lost as she felt. It seemed he was waiting for her to speak. Fair enough.
“You can hate me if you want.” She shuffled closer until she was kneeling beside him. “But I’m not sorry for what I did. To be honest, I don’t know what a soul even does, but what I do know is that every part of you is precious to me. I couldn’t let you do it.”
Finn tipped his head back, blinking hard and fast up at the ceiling. “I was going to do it.” His throat bobbed. “I was ready to.”
“I know.” Her chin quivered. “That’s why I had to do what I did.”
She’d say he’d left her with no choice, but that wasn’t true. Maybe her back had been against the wall, but she’d made the choice she could live with. Even if it meant living without Finn.
A soft, plaintive sound came from the back of his throat, and he leaned forward, reaching out and cupping her cheek and jaw in his left palm. He dropped his forehead to hers with a sigh. “I’m so goddamn mad at you,” he murmured.
“I know.” Fresh tears blurred her vision as she turned and brushed her lips against the heel of his hand. “I know.”
If she were in his shoes, she’d be mad at her, too.
“What happens now?” she asked quietly.
His eyes flitted over her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. “What do you mean?”
“What do you want to happen? I mean…does this change anything for you?” She set her hand against his chest, laying it over his heart. “There’s nothing tying you to me anymore. Do you still feel…” Her throat clicked. “Do you still love me?”
“Effie.” Finn laid his hand over hers. “Still. Always. That’s never going to change.”
The tears burning at the corners of her eyes finally fell. “Good,” she croaked. “Me, too. But—” Her breath hitched. “What are we supposed to do?”
Soul or no soul, she was still immortal. Without the soul bond, when Finn died, that was it. No more second chances, no finding each other in the next life. Their time together had gone from infinite to finite, just like that.
Even though she’d made the right choice, and even though she knew it meant one day living in a world without Finn, it didn’t mean she wanted to.
“We make the most of the time we have,” he said, smile bittersweet. “That’s what we do, baby. We take it one day at a time and we make every second count.”