Chapter 18 #2
Michael had always considered himself above such ‘cowardly’ actions, and yet he could feel the temptation to run away from it all simmering under his skin as he avoided looking at his lieutenant.
Because what was he supposed to say? Sorry Uriel, you’ve been my right hand for centuries, but you may lose another friend, because Jehovah will kill me if he finds out I have no plans to obey him?
Instead, he turned his focus on the only thing he could: desperately trying to piece together a plan, any plan. Anything that would save Mags and hopefully prevent the horrific future looming over them all.
The first thing Mags noticed was a soft pressure over her eyes, and an accompanying darkness tinged in red light.
A moment of panic threatened, but her sharp inhale brought with it the scent of burning jasmine and bergamot.
So, she was still in her room. Mags calmed slightly, settling into the plush surface she laid on, recognizing it as her bed.
A few more deep, steadying breaths, and she felt ready to figure out what in hell was going on—literally.
Slowly, she brought her shaking fingers to her face and relaxed when she felt smooth silk under her fingertips.
“A sleep mask.” She breathed out, giggling slightly at the crazy possibilities she had been cycling through. She had slipped back, albeit briefly, into a past that lingered at the back of her memories like a bad smell. That was no longer her reality, and her frantic pulse started to settle.
“Mags?”
She startled slightly and lifted the strip of padded silk from her face, blinking in the dim lighting.
“Remi,” she croaked, and raised a hand to her throat to massage the sore muscles there.
“Here,” Remi handed her a glass of water and Mags accepted it gratefully, each cool swallow soothing and refreshing.
“What happened?” she asked when she found her voice again. “I remember Michael was here, and Luce came to my rooms to… check on me?”
Remi huffed, sinking onto the edge of the bed and resting the back of her hand against Mags’s forehead. “Oh, is that how you remember it?”
“Yes?” Mags pulled her hand away and held it between her own. “What am I missing, Rem?”
“The truth,” Remi sighed, squeezing her hand gently. “I didn’t think he would stoop as low as removing your memory of it, too.”
“Removing my memory…” the brunette trailed off, brow furrowing as she racked her memory of the encounter. A few fuzzy recollections surfaced from the fog that lingered, and she sat up slowly, expression twisting. “He wouldn’t… he didn’t…”
“He did,” Remi corrected her gently, a hint of anger coloring the words. “The son of a bitch swore to never use his powers against us, and then he goes back on it when it suits him.”
A soft knock interrupted, and Camiel slipped into the room ahead of Gloriana, who carried a tray with sandwiches.
“Mags!” She smiled broadly. “I didn’t realize you were awake yet.”
“Oh, I’m awake,” she said, kicking off her blankets. “I’m awake and I’m furious and I’m about to go murder a god.”
“You just woke up,” Glory looked taken aback, brow furrowed. “You should rest for a minute or at least have a sandwich.”
“No,” she swung her legs over the side and rose. Remi caught her by the elbow when she swayed slightly. “I’ve done enough resting—against my own will—which is what I’m about to go discuss with dear Lucifer.”
“Don’t be so hasty,” Glory set the tray down and hurried to her side. “You shouldn’t overwork yourself.”
“Do not coddle me, Gloriana,” Mags snapped, and the blonde reeled back in surprise. Mags collected herself for a moment, then grabbed her favorite shawl and wrapped herself in the pink silk for comfort. “I may be gentle, but I do not take well to being forced into submission.”
“There's the Mags with fire.” Remi grinned. “I missed this side of you.”
“I didn’t,” Mags sighed. “I never like becoming this person, but damned if Lucifer doesn’t push people.”
“Go get ‘im!” Remi cackled. “Raise some Cain, hell, take Cain with you!”
“I hardly think I’ll need such heavy artillery.” Mags raised a brow. “You seem almost too excited by this, Remi.”
“Oh, I am.” She grinned. “Luci’s about to get his ass whooped and he is well overdue.”
Mags mustered a small smile of her own. “Well, have a little faith then. Who needs a man to fight their battles for them?”
“Honestly? Go let some stress out properly,” said Cami, smirking. “It’s not like you can actually kill him.”
Mags smiled wider this time, and a dangerous glint lit her eyes. “Well then, there’s no harm in trying.”
Glory watched nervously as Mags stormed from her rooms, Remi tracking her path with delight.
“Why are you encouraging this?” the blonde asked, frowning and worrying a napkin between her slim fingers. “She’s going to get hurt.”
“Are you joking?” Cami snorted. “She’s the one person who won’t be in any danger. Luce, stupid as it was, did this because he loves her. Her life is worth more to him than his honor, or his word. That’s no small thing.”
They let this sit for a moment, and Glory sank onto a pouf with a sigh. “I still don’t like it.”
“You don’t need to like it.” Remi shrugged. “This is for her.”
“I guess so…”
“She’s a tough one, Glory,” Camiel reassured the other woman with a smile. “She may be a little newer than us, but she’s formidable in her own right.”
“I still think she could use some backup.”
Remi laughed sharply and began to pick through the sandwiches Glory had assembled. “Yeah, no thanks. I have no such immunity, and I’m still licking my proverbial wounds from my last attempt at reasoning with Lord Fucker.”
“You’re so crass. Here, I made pastrami for you.”
“Yes!” Remi snatched the sandwich and took a huge bite. “Actually though, I think you’re right.”
“Chew first, ew.”
After a hard swallow, Remi said, “No seriously though, we should go after her.”
“Thank you,” Glory sighed with relief. “I knew you could see reason.”
“Yeah no,” Remi interrupted, jumping up with a malicious grin. “I just don’t wanna miss out on seeing Luci get beat up by a little girl.”
Glory groaned in disbelief, pressing her building migraine with her fingertips. “You’re impossible, truly.”
“Thank you.” Remi chomped happily at her sandwich. “I do my best.”
The sound of the heavy ebony door slamming wide was enough to startle anyone, the way it hit the wall with the force of a small truck. A fitfully resting King was an even easier target.
Lucifer bolted upright with a gasp, flinging himself out of bed and halfway across the room before his mind caught up with his instincts. As he took in the scene, his nerves spun on a tangential path from alarmed to anxious, and he gulped.
“Lucifer,” Mags said, smiling sweetly, but her eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous as she stood backlit in his doorway. The shadows of his unlit room concealed most of her expression, but a chill still ran down Luce’s spine.
“Mags,” he attempted to soothe her. “How are you feeling?”
“Betrayed,” she said shortly, tone clipped and cold. “I find myself feeling utterly betrayed, Lucifer. And yourself?”
“Uneasy,” he admitted, deciding that honesty was the best course of action here.
“Yes, I should hope so.” She lifted a hand to inspect her nails, enjoying the way he flinched at the motion before he understood it. “Why don’t you come out of the bedroom, Lucifer? Let’s speak out in the light, shall we?”
“I’m not quite sure I like that idea.”
“This is no longer about what you like, I’m afraid.” She stepped back, revealing her distinctly displeased expression. “Come out of the bedroom, now please.”
He bit his tongue and followed her into his sitting room, suppressing a shiver. “Mags, before you say anything, I need to explain myself.”
“No.” She closed her eyes, as if unable to bear looking at him. “No, I understand, Lucifer.”
“Oh good.” He relaxed slightly and attempted a smile. “If you understand—”
“I understand,” she continued firmly, eyes flashing as she glared, “that you took it upon yourself to decide what I would be doing. I understand that you consider your thoughts and desires tantamount to infallible. I understand that you must have absolutely no faith in my decisions, or respect for my desires.”
“Mags, no.”
“Then tell me,” she demanded, advancing on him until she had backed him up into his coffee table and he fell backwards onto it. “Tell me how else I should interpret your actions.”
“I was protecting you!” His claims were somewhat diminished by his current position sprawled across lacquered mahogany, and he scrambled back to his feet.
“From myself?!” She let out an incredulous laugh. “That’s absurd.”
“From making a mistake,” he insisted, reaching to grip her shoulders. Mags swatted his hands away and slapped her palms flat on his chest.
“No!” She shoved hard, knocking him away. “It’s my right to make my own mistakes! You can’t treat me like some porcelain doll waiting to smash on the floor!”
Luce recovered from his slight stumble, brows raised as if to challenge her assumptions of his feelings. “Obviously you aren’t fragile,” he snorted, attempting to enfold her hands in his own. “It’s not your strength I question, but the motives of others.”
“You can’t seal me away from the world.” She yanked her hands away as if burned, curling into herself for a moment.
“I have a life, and it is my own. I swore when I underwent the Rising that I would use my power how I chose, that I would live the life I wanted, and that I would never be caged or chained again. You will not undermine my oaths to myself, Lucifer.”
“I had no intention—”
“Bullshit! Your only thoughts were of what you wanted, and damn whatever anyone else might think or feel!”
“Stop acting hysterical and listen to me!” He bellowed, and her entire body went still.