I tightened my grip on the headset. Should I help the living, or take revenge for the victims who had already fallen?
In the end, it wasn’t a difficult choice. But as we exited the window that we had entered I yanked on the blackout shade in the killer vamp’s room. And smiled in satisfaction as we flew away to the sound of a monster screaming as it burned to death.
After we delivered the headset to an ecstatic Chloe, there was nothing to do but wait. A couple of days passed in a relatively normal fashion. I picked up souls; Beezle ate; Gabriel and I thoroughly explored all the benefits of marriage.
One thing I was not enjoying were the constant phone calls from Azazel. He would not accept my marriage to Gabriel, and he didn’t care in the least that Lucifer had willed it.
“Lord Lucifer would not override my wishes in this matter,” Azazel said angrily. “I have betrothed you to Nathaniel before the court. No daughter of mine will marry a thrall.”
“He’s not a thrall,” I said. “Lucifer freed him.”
“A thing which he is not permitted to do,” Azazel replied.
“Just because he hasn’t done it before doesn’t mean he’s not permitted to do it. Is he your lord or is he not?” I asked.
There was a long silence at the other end of the line.
“Well?” For Azazel to say otherwise was treason. I knew it and so did he.
“Of course,” Azazel said. “But he has always respected the autonomy of each court.”
“Why don’t you just check with him if you don’t believe me?” I said.
“Lord Lucifer is not returning my messages to him,” Azazel said tightly.
“I wonder why,” I replied.
After a few of these calls in which we repeated the exact same conversation over and over I finally stopped answering when I saw my father’s name pop up on the caller ID. He filled my voice mail message box to the limit so often I couldn’t delete them fast enough.
“Not that I’m not insanely happy with you,” I said to Gabriel on the third morning after the meeting at the Agency. “But why do you think Lucifer freed you and let us marry? He’d been holding the risk to you over my head for the last two months. What made him change his mind all of a sudden?”
Gabriel sipped his coffee and looked thoughtful. “I believe we can agree that Lord Lucifer’s motivations are often deep and mysterious.”
“You can say that again.”
“I also believe that Lord Lucifer has some limited ability to see the future,” Gabriel said. “If he perceived that it was a strategic advantage to him to have us married, then he would allow that to happen.”
“I’d rather not find out that we’re only married to assist Lucifer in his long-range plans for world domination.”
“For all your strengths, Madeline, you do not comprehend Lord Lucifer. He is a creature so old and powerful that your mind cannot fathom it. He was born at the same time as the stars in the galaxy. He has seen millions of days pass since his creation.”
“And in all that time the best he can do is think up ways to amuse himself by moving the rest of us around on the game board?”
“Lord Lucifer has never had an equal to him—in strength, in cunning, in magic. I believe, truly believe, that we are permitted to exist only at his sufferance, and because it does, as you say, amuse him to watch us.”
I felt a chill in my blood that had nothing to do with the temperature. If Lucifer really was that powerful, then he could wipe out everyone on Earth with one swipe of his hand.
Gabriel watched me, and something of my thoughts must have been in my eyes because he took my hand. “It is why we all fear him so absolutely, even those courts of creatures that are not of the fallen. It is why after Amarantha and Focalor’s rebellion so many of the smaller courts are banding together to protect themselves.”
“Banding together won’t help them if he’s as powerful as you say he is,” I said.
“He is,” Gabriel said grimly.
We both sat in silence, contemplating a world where Lucifer ruled absolutely. The ringing of my cell phone broke into our thoughts.
“We’re ready to test Chloe’s solution,” J.B. said.
“We’ll be there in half an hour,” I said and hung up, looking at Gabriel. “What are the chances that we can get out of the house without Beezle noticing?”
“Zero,” Beezle said, coming in through the side window. “Let’s go.”
So I left for the Agency with my entourage escorting me (because of course Samiel wouldn’t be left behind, either). When we landed on the roof, I got a terrible shock.
Amarantha stood there.
15
AFTER A MOMENT I REALIZED IT WAS NOT AMARANTHA, but her ghost. She looked more than a little unhinged, and her appearance reflected her state of mind, as it often does with ghosts. If they remember themselves as young and beautiful, that’s how they will look in the afterlife, even if that person died in their dotage. If they pull at their hair and scratch things, then their ectoplasmic form will reflect the ghost’s perception of what they should look like after they’ve tugged their hair and broken their nails.
Amarantha looked like she’d been doing both, and she looked a lot more like a wild bean sidhe than either her perfect faerie self or her freakish demonic form.
“Somebody here needs a salon,” Beezle said. “You’ve looked better.”