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“I believe ninety years, my Lord.”

“Close, close!” Lucifer invisibly jumped for evil joy. “Look!” he commanded like the Grim Reaper. “What do you see?”

“The Kukulcan pyramid of that petty defilement, Maya Toga Days, my Lord.”

“Pure. Pristine,” Lucifer grandly sang. “A sparkling worthless monument. A false goddess of renewal. A false god of hope for the silly deplorable human masses.”

“A false show of strength, my Lord. Yes.”

“Do you see one drop of blood?” Lucifer thundered mightily. “On one step? On one platform? Dark Master, do you see one drop of sacrificed blood?”

“Not one, my Lord. No.”

“No!” Lucifer thunderously screeched. “No! Not one tiny stream of blood? No! Why, I see no endless river of blood. The necessary sacrifice. The honored and honorable sacrifice for the favor of Power. For the favor of living upon the Earth as my servant. You and your servants have failed!” he boomed off the walls. A revenging wind, his force whipped the Dark Master’s robe around him. “You and your servants have allowed weakness to prevail. To win. To triumph. Weakness!

“A punk weak whelp. A pathetic death-praying angel.” Lucifer threw his arm forward, wind-blew the Dark Master over, onto his rump, then slid him across the rough stone floor.

“No, Dark Master. I see no sacrificial blood flowing down the steps, a bright red splendorous ode to strength, to ultimate power. To Ultimate Reign. To me! The Lord of Earth!”

Lucifer wrathfully raised his arms above his head. Cyclones of wind spun around the room. “Get out! Get out of my sight! And for Satan’s sake discover where they forest hid out! No one, not any of my Devoted Fiends have served me properly.”

The great heavy doors crashed open. Fighting the raging winds, the Dark Master scrambled out.

Lucifer heaved a mammoth sigh of relief and mightily banged the doors shut. He locked them against any minion intrusion. Evil was definitely taking a nova-sized toll on him. He hovered quietly for awhile.

 

* * * *

 

“What did you put in it?” Sedona suspiciously asked, yet her eyes sparkled, flecks of gold dancing in turquoise.

“Taste.” Volcano temptingly wiggled the piece of biscuit and gravy close to her lips. He sat across from her in the old-fashioned small booth.

“Cloud aphrodisiac?” She raised her brows, then cuddled Aru closer to her side when the pup snuggled. He put his head on top of her thigh, needing a puppy nap after his breakfast.

“Cloud aphrodisiac, later,” he promised. His purple eyes deepened, devoured her passionately. “Taste,” he velvet persuaded.

“I
will
have to learn how to say ‘no’ to you,” she asserted. But she opened her mouth, took the piece he held out to her. As she chewed, every flavor was enhanced, it seemed, tenfold in her mouth. Sedona kept her eyes shut, savoring. “Mmmm, delicious, cherub.”

Volcano stood, leaned over to his woman. He feather-kissed her mouth.

Sedona opened her eyes and he was gone. His lips. Instead, he was seated across from her, grinning, the very carnal cherub who lapped up the cream. Or the gravy.

“Okay. I can’t compete with that. No baking up biscuits for you. No cooking up my special sausage gravy. Too bad.” She gave him the ‘so there’ look.

“You’ll change your mind, babe,” he seductively promised, picked up his glass of manna milk.

“Lucy,” several voices hailed.

“Lucy?” Sedona questioned. “Must be a nickname. That’s no woman. In fact, he looks like a combination of Fabio and a young Robert Redford. Talk about synchronicity. Robert Redford as the Sundance Kid. Unless, he’s a woman in disguise. Is he?”

“No.” Volcano gripped his woman’s forearm. “Sedona, listen to me. Whatever occurs, do not leave my side. If there’s a fire, any emergency, stay with me.” He possessed no heavenly clue what Lucy was doing here, now. He was an independent angel in the cosmic mind. Necessary to his mission.

“Yes, oh cherub, whatever you say,” she softly sang, only because of his intense seriousness, his protecting touch. “Why, is he some sort of bad angel type? Rides with the wrong angel crowd? Likes demons?”

“I do like some demons and I always
like
incarnated angels.” The voice entirely mesmerized, smooth and rich as a river of brandy flowing over her. “Sedona Khali, I am Lucy.”

“Just Lucy?” She gazed up at him, almost started. It was like observing the coiling strength of a cobra, the subtle and savage hypnotic power. A power that could strike in an instant. At the same time butterflies flitted in streaming sunshine. Joyfully.

“Just Lucy,” he enchanted, and smiled. “Scoot over, second gun. I need a breath of angel dust.”

Gripping his woman’s hand inside his, Volcano moved against the wall.

“Something I need to know. You two lovers?” Sedona quipped. “You look mighty comfy together.” Part of her raged warning, warning! Part of her felt completely soothed, a babe in its parent’s arms.

Lucy practically guffawed. He clapped Volcano around the shoulders. “Knew the whelp’s father. Beatnik road buddies for a maverick kick. A righteous ride, daddio, on Route 66. Told second gun, here, I wanted to meet you.”

“Route 66? Or Route 666?” Sedona sliced her tone, eyed Lucy knife-directly.

“Route 666!” Lucy laughed louder. “Heard that before, but not the way you spoke it.”

“Why. Why do you want to meet me?” Sedona persisted, wanting to squirm uncomfortably. She didn’t. She didn’t want to disturb Aru or show any sign of weakness. “Got a Route 666 you wanna take me for a ‘righteous’ ride on?”

Lucy leaned forward on his elbows, stared into her soul. “Already took you on one helluva ride. Second gun hasn’t told you about me yet, have you?”

“More important spiritual business,” Volcano evenly stated, keeping his woman’s hand tightly held in his.

“What do you want?” Sedona penetrated her voice, no compromise in her tone.

“Maybe forgiveness, maybe not. Maybe just an angelic smile. I don’t witness many of those.”

“Sure you don’t want my soul,” she mocked, and tried staring him down.

“That could be arranged,” he pleasantly spoke, amused. Leaning back, he expansively asked, “Have you tasted the cinnamon rolls? I can promise you they’re absolutely divine, or absolutely to
die for
.”

Sedona watched his smile form, both cobra sinister and gleaming angelic. Her gut roiled. Her soul twitched. She stared.

“Don’t say his name,” Volcano softly warned.

“Not a good idea,” Lucy agreed, watching full realization dawn on the courageous angel’s face.

“You helped ruin my life,” Sedona murmured, and knew shock possessed her. And an anger that went to hell and back. Several times. Red raging anger.

“I’ll let second gun explain later,” Lucy offhand spoke, yet underneath his tone was a deep-river solemnity. “Too many worshiping ears.” He grinned charmingly, then turned radiant.

“Talk about facing your demons,” Sedona muttered, shock spinning through her like a tornado. “This is absolutely ridiculous.” She felt terror, ferocious wrath, her unexpected steadiness in the face of evil. “Pistols at dawn? Or would that be light sabers?”

“I could wear a demon mask. You could poignantly remove it as I lay expiring, reminiscent of
Star Wars.
Although,” he finger summoned someone. “I doubt second gun would let us indulge in such warrior fun.”

One of the toga clad waitresses set a plate of small-sized cinnamon rolls down. “There ya go, Lucy. I expect my reward now, not just in heaven,” she joked, already leaving them.

“Three days from now, Sarah. Let me know how you enjoy it,” Lucy called back. “No, little eye-flaming angel, I haven’t bargained for her soul. A delightful thought, however. Inhale, inhale,” he largesse encouraged.

Sedona already
inhaled
, and was already in cinnamon roll heaven.

“I never
inhaled
,” she dryly joked, humor coming to her rescue. And her cherub. She felt his sustaining flow of frequencies play through her, subtle as a flute.

“Yes, I know. I never could deceive you that way, could I?”

“Mary Jane brownies don’t work?” Sedona asked, accepting a cinnamon roll from Volcano’s hand. She bit cinnamon, yeasty dough, gooey sweetness. “Incredible,” she whispered. Relishing each bite. “Foodgasm,” she finally admitted, knowing Volcano and Lucy had popped several down.

“It’s all in the smoke,” Lucy replied when Sedona relished her third cinnamon roll. “The wicked manipulations, my savage shooting angel. I should propagandize you two up as the reincarnated Bonnie and
Clyde
?”

“I don’t suppose you’ll allow me to practice my aim on you now, Lucy.” Sedona smiled, feral as a lioness. She licked her sticky fingers.

“Second gun,” he crooned man-to-man, “I see the carnal fire attraction. You and your sire, quite the bohemian lovers. Now, give me dizzying delirious light, the pleasure of explosions.”

“The light exploding orgasm?” Sedona raised a brow, waited.

Once again Lucy laughed boldly. “Lightgasm,” he virile chuckled. “That’s my human word. I’d offer a tiny sampling. Absolutely free of any and all soul payment, but carnal cherubs are ferociously opposed to sharing. Your Dad ever tell you about the one vicious dispute we settled with
lightning at dawn
? Well, lightning on a dawn cloud.”

“He won. How he told it. Different version?” Volcano kissed the top of his woman’s hand, and did not let go.

“He won. We’d have to tell the details to know if he told the truth, the whole universe truth and nothing but the Akashic truth.”

“Why are you here? Now?” Sedona persisted.

“Not to
ruin
your life. Or bargain for your, shall we say, priceless soul.” He gobbled down the last cinnamon roll, then gentlemanly wiped his lips. “Second gun would
foil
my best efforts against you. Perhaps, it is merely the celestial-esteemed company. Of the two who have proven my defeat.”

“Your defeat?” Sedona laughed, her hysteria wanting to break free. She didn’t allow it. “Now I am worried. I have to wonder how much we actually
defeated
you.”

“You’re obviously alive on the planet Earth. That is the true victory. Unless you consider this merely a lucid dream of reality.”

“This? Are we playing
Who dreams the dreamer
. Gee, I wish it had all been a lucid dream, or, okay, if it is? When the Hell do I get to wake up?”

“Divine contracts are Hell, I agree.” Lucy glowed, demonic as a cobra brewed up in a black sorcery cauldron, and crystalline as a sky full of diamonds. “My contract is a nightmare.” He guffawed a short laugh. “How about yours, incarnated angel?” He raised his brows in high amusement.

“Nightmare contract? I couldn’t agree more, this must be God’s worst nightmare, obviously not this very moment. Obviously not our great fantabulous victory over you. Obviously,” she smiled softly at Volcano, “not you. But existence here, on Earth, the nightmarish quality of life for most people. The nightmare reality of my life. But that’s where you come in, isn’t it?”

“And human free will?” Lucy calmly challenged.

“This world is not—I repeat not—merely the result of
human free will
. It doesn’t require that many brain cells to figure that one out,” Sedona cut as if she sword slashed him. “But then, you’re not the ultimate in bad guys, are you? Despite what we’ve all been dogma-lead to believe.”

Lucy smiled lazy and grand, his gaze flashes of beautiful lightning.

“Perhaps, the nightmare gathering point would be more accurate. But just between you and me, let’s keep my reprehensible reputation. My assignment isn’t easy.”

“What? Spreading hell on Earth?” Sedona challenged with claws. Volcano didn’t let go of her hand, when her body flew forward in confrontation. “Well, congratulations on one accomplishment. If nothing else. I can spiritually forgive anyone anything. I’m sure you know why. Because this has been such a huge hellhole, why wouldn’t every manner of atrocious, perverted acts be done? It breaks down very simply. Not enough divine Love equals perversions, and hate. You name it. You know it.”

“I know it,” Lucy simply spoke, his gaze never leaving her.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t hold you spiritually accountable. I do. As I hold anyone who commits a wrongdoing against me accountable. Maybe one day, when I’m high up on my floating cloud, sitting before my harp, playing oh so sweetly, I’ll emotionally forgive you for the devastating hell of my life, since I’ll have the entire divine viewpoint, not just my tiny human perspective.”

“Volcano,” Lucy did not remove his gaze from the incarnated angel, “a trap is in play once you leave.” He smiled as if they merely chatted amicably.

“Thanks, Lucy. For the timely premonition,” Volcano neutral spoke. “Want a cycle spin over Route 66, ride a few new tricks?”

“Not the same, is it, second gun? Road freedom is gone with the wind.
Don’t you agree, Sedona Khali?”

“Given that I wrote that particular phrase, the answer is still
yes
.” Sedona had not taken her scrutinizing gaze from the fallen angel.
Damn! Damn it to hell!
Where he was obviously from—hell! Hell on Earth. Hell! Hell was everywhere on Earth! Maybe he was even hell on wheels?

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