The Grigori Legacy: Sins Of The Lost Part 21

"We're done-"

"I. Said. Sit."

The words, and the tone in which they were spoken, rang with the divinity Alex had previously deemed lacking.

Absolute divinity.

She returned to the table and sat.

The Creator's eyes opened, glittering diamond-hard. "You're right, Alexandra. I have failed. Many times and on many levels. I created Lucifer as my companion, as the yang to my yin. In my arrogance, I believed I had created the perfect creature and that, because he was perfect, he could do no wrong. I believed in him. I trusted him. I loved him with every fiber of my being. But I remained a creator. It is what I do. What I am. And so I continued to create. The stars, the planets, the galaxies and universes . . . all the skies that you see and infinite others beyond those. And then I created Earth and seeded it with the potential for humanity."

The One stood, pacing the cramped kitchen: table to sink, sink to fridge, fridge back to table. "I loved watching your planet's evolution, the birth of humanity, your discoveries, your growth. I wanted to believe Lucifer shared my joy, but in truth, your every success drove another wedge between us. He resented the time I spent watching your world unfold, hated that I could find happiness in anything but him. I ignored the warning signs, found ways to justify his outbursts, tried to soothe his jealousy. I gave him a"-she paused in both step and sentence, straightened her shoulders, and continued. "I gave him a son, thinking a child of his own would a.s.sure him of my love for him. But he wanted nothing to do with Seth, and before I had recovered from the birth, he turned the Grigori against me. Against you, my mortal children."

Alex wanted to run from the One's confession, from a story that, surely, she had no right to hear. But she stayed seated, held in place by the tale of betrayal and the Creator's raw, unspoken grief.

"He gave me an ultimatum," the One continued at last. "Him or humanity. The rest of the story you know . . . except for this. When part of the host followed Lucifer and we went to war to defend your world, I did try to stop him. To destroy the monster I had created. And I failed."

Chapter 46.

Resting an elbow on the arm of his chair, Lucifer idly rubbed a forefinger over his eyebrow. He stared at the journal on his desk, a pen laid across its blank page. Each of the entries he'd made over the last month had been progressively more difficult to write, and now this. Nothing. No words, no inspiration, no desire.

No need.

It was as if he had emptied himself. As if he found himself in Limbo, where nothing existed anymore. Where nothing mattered.

Oh, he still cared-his whole existence was about caring, for all the good it had done him. He'd just run out of reasons to write about it.

And this interminable waiting didn't help.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed up the pen and pitched it across the room, scowling when it stuck point-first and quivering in one of the fireplace stones. What in b.l.o.o.d.y Heaven was taking Samael so long? Finding the Naphil's sister was such a simple task, the last piece in his plan, and the G.o.dd.a.m.n Archangel couldn't get his act together long enough to complete it.

The dish of peppermints on his desk followed in the pen's wake, shattering against the mantel and sending a shower of gla.s.s shards and candies across the room.

Lucifer pushed out of his chair. He wouldn't put it past his aide to be focused on the whole Mika'el and Seth issue rather than on his orders. Samael's ability to think strategically might be his greatest a.s.set, but it could also be his most annoying one. The Archangel was forever searching for hidden motives where none existed. Or worse, where they might exist but didn't matter.

He closed the journal on his desk and turned to slide the volume back into place in the bookcase. Then he paused, staring at the top row of books, the ones at eye level. He inspected the Roman numerals on their spines, neatly lined up in ascending order. Except they weren't. Not entirely.

They couldn't be, because the fourteenth journal was missing from its place.

His gaze swept the row, then the room, then returned to the shelf. He released his hold on the journal he'd replaced. Sliding his hand between volumes XIII and XV, he pushed them apart and scowled. Not just missing from its place. Missing, period. As in gone. As in someone had entered his domain and taken his private property. Had dared trespa.s.s against him.

Disbelief unfurled in his gut. A snarl of fury-cold and visceral-drove it out. He whirled and stalked around his desk. If he had to rip apart the whole of h.e.l.l, he would- The door opened as he reached it. A diminutive Cherub stood in the opening holding a tray, eyes wide and startled. "Light-bearer!"

Lucifer stopped short of plowing over her. He glowered down. "You're in my way."

"I'm s-sorry," the Cherub squeaked. The dishes on the tray rattled as she held it out to him. "I have your tea."

Lifting his arm to brush both the tray and the Cherub from his path, he saw her gaze dart past him. The pupils of her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He went still, resisting the impulse to turn and look at what he already knew she'd seen. The gap between the books on the shelf. His own eyes narrowed as the Cherub's dropped. Her breathing quickened, and the pulse at the base of her throat hammered. Lucifer stepped back and aside, turning his raised arm into a sweeping invitation to enter.

"Raziel, isn't it?" he murmured.

Shocked blue eyes lifted to his. "Yes, sir."

Raziel, favored informant of Samael for several hundred years after the Fallen had departed Heaven. His nostrils flared. b.l.o.o.d.y Heaven, he'd rip the Archangel apart with his bare hands.

"You can leave that on the desk." He smiled and, hands in his pockets, wandered toward the fireplace. "Thank you."

Thank you for solving my mystery for me.

Raziel hesitated for a second more and then scurried forward to set the tray, now jangling in a most irritating manner, on his desk. She slanted a glance at him. "Weren't you going somewhere?"

"Hm? Oh. It can wait. I think I'll have tea first."

She hovered, biting her lip, and for a moment, he wondered if she might not confess on the spot and save him the trouble of digging for the details. But with a quick last glance at the bookshelves, she sidled toward the door. It slammed shut as she came within reach of it. She stopped in her tracks, a hiss of air escaping her.

"Stay," Lucifer said. "We've never had a chance to chat. I'm sure you have much to tell me."

The Cherub turned to face him. Her gaze, hollow with the knowledge of what was to come, met his. He smiled, and with a soft mewl, she crumpled to the floor.

Chapter 47.

Alex waited for the burn in her throat to subside, then poured a second, generous portion of whiskey. Swirling the amber liquid in a slow circle, she stared at her reflection in the dark kitchen window.

"So you're not really all-powerful." Even now, with one drink already warming her belly, her brain kept dancing around the idea. The blasphemy behind it. Except the One herself had said it, so was it really blasphemy? She slugged back the second shot of whiskey.

"I have limits," the One agreed.

"How? How can you have made all of this"-she waved an encompa.s.sing hand-"and still have limits?"

"Everything I've made is a part of me, a tiny bit of my essence. My power, if you will. That holds true of Lucifer as well, only he is more of me than my other creations. A great deal more. I wanted a helpmeet in him. A partner. I wanted him to be my equal, or very close to it."

The liquor in Alex's stomach gave an uneasy roll. Lucifer, equal to the One? That didn't sound good.

"The real problem,," continued the One, "lies with the part of myself I used to create him. Whether because of instinct or a need to retain at least an illusion of control, I wanted him to be just slightly less than what I was. I didn't want him to feel lesser to me, however, so I compensated by giving him the illusion of equal power . . . more of my yang than my yin, I suppose you could say."

"I don't understand."

"At one time, I was the All, the everything. I was balance itself, both Creator and Destroyer, both light and dark. When I made Lucifer, I gave him more of that darker side of me. Now, while I create, he is more p.r.o.ne to destroy. I love, while he holds my capacity to hate. I am the champion of good. He . . . is not. All that he is, I no longer am. And what I am, he can never be. It isn't that I don't want to rise against him or his Fallen followers, it's that I can't. I don't have the strength-and I gave him my will."

"So how in h.e.l.l," Alex grated, "did he get the name of Light-bearer?"

"In the beginning, he was the light of my existence. Now he is the light of truth-the truth about me. My failure, my arrogance, my ultimate demise."

"De-" The empty gla.s.s dropped from Alex's grip, floated above the floor for an instant, and rose to settle gently on the counter. She stared at it, then at the One. "What demise?"

"It's how I will stop him, Alexandra. The only way that I can. It's the reason I ask you to do the unbearable and convince Seth to take back what only he can possess. Holding this world together against my son's discarded power is taking everything I have. If Lucifer turns to open warfare-and it's only a matter of time until he does-I cannot stand against him as long as Seth remains mortal."

Alex wrapped her arms around herself and hung on for dear life as what little remained of reality shuddered, splintered, and crumbled to dust. She opened her mouth to speak but found no voice. Swallowing twice, she tried again, managing a bare whisper. "What about the angels? Michael and-the others?"

"They can stop the Fallen from destroying you outright, but not from inflicting great damage. Should Lucifer himself decide to get involved, things will not go well."

"And the Nephilim?"

"They, I'm afraid, will remain humanity's burden."

"So if I don't convince Seth, humanity will absolutely be wiped from existence, and if I do convince him, you'll die and we'll still have the Nephilim to deal with."

"Not die. Become other. I will bind my energy to Lucifer's to become what I used to be a very long time ago, before I took a form."

"There will be no one left?"

"My angels will remain to watch over you, and there will be Seth."

Seth. Many times damaged Seth, asleep in the other room. Asleep, waiting for her, with no idea of the treachery taking place in his own kitchen. She thought about the cool politeness to which they had resorted in their dance around what neither wanted to discuss. Her job. Aramael. The unsettling question of why he had allowed a Fallen One into his life. The continued, looming presence of Lucifer between them. The lack of his concern for anyone but her among humanity.

And now, Heaven's request that she, too, betray his trust.

Silence settled between them. Alex tried to imagine a world without its Creator. Her world without the man she loved if he stepped back into his immortal birthright. She tried, too, to be angry with a deity that could have let things go this far, get this out of hand, become this hopeless.

But all she could manage was emptiness. Sadness. A single question. "How soon?"

The One rose from the table. "As soon as you can," she said. "And, Alex . . . for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Chapter 48.

Alex slipped back into bed and lay beside Seth, listening to his deep, steady breathing. Light and shadow played across the ceiling as cars pa.s.sed by in the street below. Pain stabbed beneath her ribs with every beat of her heart.

Sliding an arm under her head, she glanced sideways at the glow of the digital clock. Four a.m. Another hour and she had to be up. The effort of trying to go back to sleep almost wasn't worth it. Except facing the day would be harder. She closed her eyes. Heaved a shaky sigh. How in all of Heaven and h.e.l.l and Earth combined was she going to find the strength to do what the One asked? It didn't matter that she understood now why Seth needed to go back, she was still going to lose him. She was still going to hurt him.

Warm fingers threaded with hers beneath the sheet. A thumb caressed the inside of her wrist.

"I'm sorry," Seth's quiet voice rumbled. "About today, and before. I haven't been fair to you."

She squeezed her eyes tighter. "Seth-"

"Shh. Let me finish. I know you're doing your best, Alex. You're in an impossible place, knowing what you do about what's coming, trying to protect your world against forces beyond your control. Part of me wants you to give up because I don't believe you can win, part of me can't help but admire you for standing up for what you think is right. For not giving in. But another part of me-most of me, I think-can't get past the guilt of not being able to do anything. I've never felt helpless before. It's not a pleasant sensation." His hand moved to caress her arm. "But I'm still trying. Even if I can't stop Armageddon or the Nephilim, I want to be here for you. Without the hysterics of jealousy or feeling sorry for myself."

h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation. He wasn't making this any easier.

"Seth-"

He placed his fingers over her lips. "I don't think you understand how much I love you, Alexandra Jarvis. You are my entire existence, and I do not-will not-let anyone make me regret having chosen you."

He s.h.i.+fted his weight toward her, and his mouth replaced his hand. She resisted, guilt swamping her. She should have stopped him, should have interrupted and told him about his mother's visit, about how he needed to go. Should do so even now, because delaying would only make it worse.

The tip of his tongue touched her bottom lip. Traced it. She shuddered.

A tear slid from the corner of her eye. Losing him might be necessary, but it was also wrong. They hadn't had enough time to get to know each other. They'd never, from the very beginning, had a chance to be anything near normal or ordinary, to just be. Christ, they hadn't begun to explore the possibilities-their possibilities. She buried her face against Seth's neck. If she had to give him up, it wouldn't be like this. He deserved better. They deserved better.

She kissed the hollow at the base of his throat, tasting his skin. Sliding a hand beneath the T-s.h.i.+rt he wore to bed, she drew her fingers, featherlight, over the hard muscles of his back. Seth went still. An image of Lucifer flashed into her mind and merged with one of Seth.

"He should never have made the choice he did. You've thought the same thing yourself. It is that which stands between you, not Lucifer."

Was the One right? Was that the reason-? Her stomach clenched, and her skin dampened, chilled. No. She wouldn't believe that. She couldn't believe it. Gritting her teeth, she forced her touch lower and let it travel the curve of Seth's b.u.t.tock. His breath hitched.

It had been Lucifer between them all along. She was certain of it. She needed to be certain of it. And she'd be d.a.m.ned if she'd let the Light-bearer's presence remain any longer. s.h.i.+fting sideways, shelifted herself. Straddled Seth. Felt him surge against her, suddenly, fully aware.

"Alex?" A whisper, startled, filled with the ache of longing. Of need. Deep inside her, a fierce response snarled to life. Another tear slid down her cheek, hidden from him in the dark.

"I love you, Seth Benjamin," she whispered. "Always."

Chapter 49.

Sweet Jesus, what in h.e.l.l had she been thinking?

The November morning light filtered into the apartment, as pale and cold as Alex felt as she stood in Seth's embrace, her every fiber screaming at her to pull away. She prayed that he didn't feel her stiffness, her resistance. Her regret.