Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
After their walk to the Rift turned into a debate over how best to expedite the soul intake process, Remiel eventually realized Lucifer was stalling. She declared herself the winner and promised to get to work implementing the changes, then shoved Luce through the portal before he could respond.
She leaned against a nearby pillar to ensure he wouldn’t turn right back around, then turned to inspect the line of newly arrived souls that was, admittedly, much longer than the lines into Heaven used to be.
They did need to do something about this, but she had lied when she said it would be now.
They had bigger priorities, the first of which included tracking down Mags to get a refresher about what the vision had been exactly.
After searching for the smaller woman in her little cabin, the town square, and practically every room in the palace Lucifer called an ‘estate’, Remi grumbled the entire way to the kitchen, the last place left to check. The room was empty.
Mags was not currently in this dimension.
Remi made her way to the kitchen island and slumped onto one of the stools there. The stone countertop was cool where she laid her head down, soothing the gentle pounding that always seemed to follow most interactions with Luce.
“He better make this shit right,” she muttered, glaring at the saltshaker because it was the closest object in her sightline.
“Did that saltshaker personally offend you, babe, or did Luce piss you off again?” A smooth voice broke the quiet calm of the kitchen, wrapping around her like velvet and making Remi lift her head wearily.
She narrowed her eyes at the way he always seemed to read her mind, but maybe it was to be expected after literal centuries together.
The exhausted woman groaned. “If I have to be Luce’s mother one more time, I’m gonna strangle him. Or scream.”
“Or you could scream while you strangle him,” the newcomer grinned, stroking his long beard thoughtfully as he leaned against the counter.
Remi eyed it with distaste. “I swear I’m gonna cut that in your sleep, Rag.”
“You wouldn’t.” He looked horrified. His beard was a curly ginger mass that reached down to his collarbones, and it was his pride and joy.
“Wouldn’t I?” She grinned wickedly, but it didn’t reach her tired eyes.
Rag frowned. “Was it that bad this time?”
“He mentioned Armageddon,” she informed him drily. “Oh! And apparently, he hasn’t spoken to his son in fifteen years!”
His brows raised sharply. “I figured it would take him a while to talk to the kid, but I never realized he just...didn’t. Can’t tell if I’m appalled or impressed at the levels of negligence there.”
“Appalled!” she snapped in disbelief. “We’re appalled and angry, because that’s bad parenting.”
“To be fair,” he mused, “that’s probably why we never had kids. I’d be awful at it.”
“You’d be great at it,” Remi softened, like she only did for her husband. “But neither of us wants kids, and that’s fine.”
He reached across the counter and tucked a piece of her hair—a curly, frizzy mess now, after drying on its own—behind her ear. The curl popped free immediately. “You’re more than enough work for me, babe.”
She nuzzled her face into his palm and bit hard on the fleshy pad between his thumb and index finger.
“Rem!” he yelped, yanking his hand away and cradling it to his chest.
She grinned, and this time it was genuine.
“Crazy bitch.” He grinned back.
“Crazy about you, baby,” she crooned, laughing.
“You guys are so weird,” a melodious voice drifted from the doorway, announcing Gloriana’s arrival—along with the subtle scent of morning glories that hung around her like a delicate shroud.
Remi and Mags had quizzed her on it multiple times, only for the statuesque blonde to vehemently deny altering her natural scent in any way with perfumes or magic. They unanimously did not believe this but eventually stopped asking.
“Weird is better than boring,” Rag quipped.
“Is it?” Gloriana wrinkled her nose. “If my lover ever bit me…”
“You’d need a lover first, Glory,” Remi teased sweetly. “Stop leading all the boys on and find a nice girl to torment.”
“Why should I give up one to settle for another?” Gloriana flashed that temptress smile as she sauntered across the room to join them, painted ruby lips pulling up in a slow, sexy smile. “When you have as many admirers as I do, it simply isn’t fair to limit myself to a single gender.”
“Wicked girl.” Remi said with a smirk. “You have to break all the hearts?”
“Absolutely all of them,” she confirmed, cheeks dimpling. “It’s my civic duty.”
“Literally,” Rag interrupted in his slow drawl, “but we’re getting a bit off topic now. Rem, what were you saying about Armageddon?”
Gloriana’s face dropped, all the laughter draining away. “How do you know about that?”
Remi eyed her curiously. “Luce mentioned it just now. How do you know about it?”
Glory averted her gaze, seeming to shrink into herself a bit. “How could I ever have forgotten?”
Husband and wife exchanged a look, and Remi laid a hand gently on the blonde’s hunched shoulder. “I think you better tell us what you know.”
With a delicate shudder, Gloriana turned away. “You remember when Foster was born…and Mags had that terrible vision she wouldn’t talk about? Well, she eventually did tell me. She showed me. And…it’s haunted me ever since.”
Between frequent pauses bustling around the kitchen digging into various cabinets, she eventually told them how Mags had run off to Heaven when a vision this morning seemed to signal the disaster was imminent.
“She should be returning soon,” Gloriana finished, slim hands wrapped tightly around the mug she’d prepared to distract herself. The tea inside was barely touched. “Supposedly, there’s something that might be done, but it hinges on Jehovah’s approval.”
“What could it possibly have to do with Him?” Remi snorted.
“Well,” Gloriana paused. “To stand a chance, Luce would need more power.”
“Surely that has to be a simple problem?” Remi arched a dark brow. “Can’t he do any number of rituals to boost his power?”
“I once saw him power up to attempt an especially difficult yoga position,” Rag confirmed.
“Those are minor, temporary boosts,” Gloriana sighed, beautiful features tight with grim resignation. “The situation is becoming desperate. This isn’t some far-off possibility anymore. It’s starting now, and Mags thinks we have less than a year before…”
“Before nothing can be done at all,” Rag finished glumly. Gloriana said nothing.
Remi fumed. “And what does Mags plan to do, ask Jehovah to loan Luci some power?”
"In a sense, yes.”
The three immortals at the counter jumped, turning to the doorway where Mags now stood, looking harried but pleased with herself.
“I didn’t speak with Jehovah after all,” she continued, and Remi relaxed back into her seat until Mags went on, “I actually just stole the book we needed.”
“You what!” Out of her seat and across the room in a flash, Remi gripped Mags by both shoulders. “Please, please tell me you’re joking, and you didn’t really steal from the library of the King of Heaven.”
“I didn’t steal from the library,” Mags acquiesced. Remi took a calming breath. “I stole from the vault, which just happens to be in the library.”
Remi dropped her forehead onto Mags’s shoulder in defeat. “You are an idiot.”
“No,” Rag grinned, “she’s a badass.”
“Okay yes,” Remi muttered with a sigh, and Mags patted her back gently. “But also a reckless idiot! I know you have a self-preservation instinct; you just suck at following it.”
Mags steered her friend back onto her stool and joining them at the kitchen island.
She reached into the bag on her shoulder and drew out an ancient book bound in pale, cracked leather.
The title was worn away to a faded imprint, gold leaf having flaked off centuries ago.
A metal band wrapped the center of the book, secured with a small but sturdy padlock.
“What is it?” Rag raised his brows, peering at the deceptively plain book. “A book of spells?”
“Essentially,” Mags inclined her head, smiling. “Though personally I’d call it a recipe book.”
“You really stole from Jehovah.” Gloriana looked torn between awe and terror.
“I think it’s better than the alternative.” Mags frowned. “I am still wary; I’ll need to talk to Luce about it. But…I think it’s the best option.”
“Why?” Remi demanded. “Surely there has to be something, anything else.”
“Luce has been trying to find another way,” the smaller woman agreed. “But I can feel it in my bones, Remi. This is the most powerful, definitive vision I’ve had in a long time. And without this artifact…”
“Luce won’t be strong enough,” Rag spoke slowly, realization and horror dawning on him. “Because he hasn’t been the same since he gave us such a hefty portion of his power.”
The sink faucet released a drip with an unnaturally loud plop.
“I’m sorry,” Remi forced cheer into her tone, “are you saying it’s our fault that Luce can’t face this threat?”
“Technically,” Mags sighed, seemingly ignorant of the glare Remi leveled at her while she stroked the cover of the grimoire absently. “Since you can’t exactly return those powers now, I needed to find an alternative.”
They glanced uncomfortably amongst themselves for a moment, all considering the potential for things to go horribly wrong with this plan.
Rag was the one to finally break the silence. “Fuck it,” he declared. “If the world is going to shit anyway, we might as well piss off the King of Heaven. Can’t get much worse than the end of all existence, right?”
“This cannot be the right address.” Lucifer cringed at the sight of the building before him, slowly scanning from the filthy shingles and clogged gutter, down five stories to the chipped foundation and overgrown shrubbery that seemed torn between wilting into the dirt and consuming the stained brick facade.
“It’s like a fire hazard and a ruin had a very unfortunate baby. ”