Chapter 15 #2
“You can still have your son. That’s the point of all of this; saving him.” She looked away. “And I love you too Luce, but I can’t live my life based on what’s best for you. I have to do this for myself, and for my conscience.”
Luce went very still, and then he nodded. He crossed the room swiftly and dropped a kiss onto her hair, resting his forehead on hers. “Then I’ll have to beg your forgiveness.”
“What?”
“Sleep, Mags.” He blew gently on her brow and her eyes closed abruptly, head lolling as she dropped into unconsciousness.
Scooping her into his arms, Luce carried her to the bed and laid her down carefully, drawing the duvet up over her.
Settling onto the edge of the mattress, he frowned at how small and fragile she looked, almost swallowed up by the piles of pillows and blankets.
She would be furious with him when his spell wore off, but by then he would have a plan—something to appease his brother so he called off her bounty.
“Dream easy, little sister.” He stroked her hair softly, before drifting out and sealing her door behind himself with a locking rune. “I promise I will save us all.”
Uriel woke feeling like he had just run a marathon with iron weights on his limbs. He blinked in confusion for a moment, taking in the sterile room and the warm sunlight dappling the floor, and then the events that had led him here came back to him.
“Michael.” He sat up abruptly, wincing at the dull ache in his left arm. He blinked blearily down at it, at the fresh scar that ran in a pale curve around his bicep and halfway toward his forearm. “Well, shit.”
“I think it makes you look dashing,” a soft voice spoke from his left, startling him.
“Saints above, Gloriana!” he swore, placing a hand to his racing heart. “I was just healed and you’re trying to kill me!”
“Sorry.” She smiled, dimples flashing. “I know you’re recovering, but I was hoping to ask about…”
Uriel watched her fidget on her little stool beside his bed, the smile faltering as she averted her gaze and chewed on her thumb nail.
“Jophiel,” he finished.
“Yes.”
Uriel sighed, tossing back the sheet and swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. “I thought you two were speaking again?”
She looked away. “It’s… complicated. He’s so distracted by his devotion to Gabriel; I hardly hear from him anymore.”
“Maybe the distance is good for you,” Uriel hedged, but Glory still recoiled.
“How can it be when all I think of is him? Worrying if he’s safe, if he’s happy, if he thinks of me. Wondering if I’ll ever see him again, or if he even wants to see me?”
“I’m sure he does,” Uriel tried to soothe her, hauling himself from the bed to lay a hand on her shoulder. “You’re his sister, his twin.”
“But I chose Lucifer,” she sighed. “I left him behind. He was furious, Uri, you didn’t see his face that day…”
“I didn’t, but I’m sure he still loves you. You two were always so close, I can’t see him giving up on that.”
She pulled her hair over her shoulder, twining and untangling the golden strands to occupy her hands. “Tell me he’s okay?”
“He is well,” Uriel assured her, pacing in a small circle to wake up his muscles as he worked his arm to test the mend. “As dramatic and vain as always. Spends his free time lounging about, complaining that he’s bored.”
This drew another small smile. “Ah, so nothing has changed much at all.”
The sound of a door slamming interrupted Uriel’s reply, and he instinctively drew Glory behind him as they whirled around.
Michael blinked in surprise at the door that had been flung against the wall, examining his hands as if they had acted without his consent before stepping inside and gingerly shutting the door behind him.
“Saints above, Mike! Between the two of you, I may as well get back into the bed!”
“Sorry.” Michael smiled sheepishly, but it didn’t come close to reaching his clouded grey eyes. “I’m a bit distracted, apparently.”
Uriel softened. “Are you okay?”
“Maybe.” His eyes lit on Glory, still tucked halfway into Uriel’s shadow, and his expression brightened. “Gloriana!”
He stepped towards her, lifting his arms to offer a hug, and froze midstep when she flinched away from him. His brow furrowed, and she cleared her throat daintily.
“Sorry, sorry.” She apologized and came around to embrace him tightly. “I’m a bit on edge and you startled me, that’s all.”
Michael relaxed, breathing in the old familiar scent of sweet flowers that always hung on the delicate woman. Her slender arms were deceptively strong, enclosing his waist with a steady pressure that touched a sore spot deep inside him. Some things were still constant.
“You haven’t changed at all,” Glory pulled back, releasing his waist to fuss with his hair, and trying in vain to tame the unruly curls. “You should consider going bald like Uri if you’re not going to bother styling this mess.”
“As if he could pull off this look,” Uriel grinned, running a hand over his smooth-shaven scalp and tossing her a wink.
“Still a menace, I see,” Glory giggled. “I missed you both, and of course, Raphael. How is he?”
“He’s well.” Michael smiled. “As lost in his books as ever. We should hurry home to make sure he remembers to eat something and take time to see the world beyond his archives.”
“Speaking of home,” Uriel cut in, “are we free to go, or does Luce—?”
“We aren’t prisoners, apparently, though it goes without saying Mags will not be joining us.” Michael frowned. “And while you might be well received, I’d wager I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“How are we supposed to find our way home when we were blindfolded coming in?”
“Oh,” Glory clapped her hands together, smiling wide. “I know just the man for the job.”
The man for the job turned out to be another demon – a female demon, at that.
She was as tall as Zaj was short, with skin of acid green.
Her slender, willowy limbs were just a touch overlong, with fingers that stretched and flexed like curling vines towards the floor as she hovered on skeletal wings.
A hint of scale patterning ran down her reptilian face from forehead to collarbone and disappeared beneath her gauzy black slip dress.
Dark pits of violet smoke smoldered where her eyes should have been, and a shock of pure white hair poured down her back like pale water.
“Pyzyk,” Glory smiled, but she looked puzzled. “I was expecting Porb.”
“Yess,” the demon confirmed in a low, hoarse whisper with a slight lisp that belied a reptilian ancestry as she shrugged. “He iss otherwisse occupied, helping in the Pit.”
“Oh no…”
“It iss fine,” Pyzyk dismissed her concern. “I will be returning to put the fear of Pyzyk into them when I am done with you.”
“I can’t imagine you’re especially terrifying,” Uriel smirked.
“You have never sseen my other facess, dark one.” She grinned, revealing a mouthful of razor-sharp, serrated fangs.
“Dark one,” Uriel laughed. “I like that, it makes me feel edgy.”
Glory rolled her eyes. “Dramatic boys, all of you. It makes me miss Jophiel even more.”
Uriel sobered. “I’m serious Glory, you should call him. He’d be glad to hear from you, I know it.”
“Maybe,” she deflected, patting him on his unscarred arm. “But you can also give him my regards when you get home.”
“We can indeed,” Michael nodded seriously. “It is…very good to see you again, Gloriana.”
“You too,” she croaked out, tearing her gaze away as her eyes went misty and clearing her throat. “You both look so good, it’s like nothing has changed.”
“The things that matter most are constant,” Uriel assured her softly, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Michael brushed a knuckle against her jaw to turn her face back to them. “Distance does not change the love we hold for you, or the other Fallen.”
She seemed to shrink under the weight of their declarations. “Sometimes it’s hard to comprehend such unwavering love and support.”
“Well, you have it,” Uriel pulled her into an embrace. “And you may not be able to return to Heaven, but we will always come to you if you call us, here or on Earth.”
“Do not think of us with sadness, Gloriana.”
“I don’t,” she promised, but a trace of lingering grief haunted her features.
“Thiss iss very touching,” Pyzyk interrupted, “but if you wissh to leave it sshould be ssooner than later. Ssome of uss have ressponssibilitiess to attend to.”
Uriel laughed. “I like you, Pyzyk.”
“Thankss.” Her fangs glinted as she grinned again. “Now let’ss get going.”
Glory watched them go, somehow feeling both warmed and broken.
Seeing the two of them after all this time…
she wondered if she should’ve heeded her initial instinct to avoid them until they left.
It made everything even harder, knowing that they were up there, and she was down here, and that their paths, which were once so aligned, were now so at odds.
With a sigh, she dug in her pocket for her projector cube and sank onto one of the infirmary beds, rolling to face the wall as she waited for the dull hum to resolve into a connection.
“Hello?” A smooth voice floated out cautiously, and Glory’s heart skipped a beat. Her brother’s face appeared in the dull wash of light, and her chest went tight with emotion.
“Hello Jophiel,” she murmured, tension and levity warring within her at hearing his voice after so long. “We have a lot to catch up on.”