Forgotten Self (Forgotten Self #1) (17 page)

“
Fine,” she says, already bored of her game. “Lucifer sent me. He wants to make an offer.”

Lucifer? The devil himself Lucifer?

This is gettin
g interesting. Despite myself, I sit up a little bit. “So make it.”

Another smirk from Gaash. “As you may or may not know, Lucifer is not very pleased with Remiel and Raguel. They're stealing quite a number of demons. Apparently, the archangels have made a
promise to all those who join their little war. Eternal salvation or some sort of bull like that.” She makes a face. “How in hell that sounds appealing to them, I have no idea. Anyway, Lucifer is aware of your...relationship with Aram. He also knows about
Aram's offer. So he's made a counter-offer. He will offer his legions of demons to be at your disposal to wage this battle with the archangels. He has no
desire for those
things
to be in control of heaven. No, he will make his own move, in time. In the pr
oper way.”

I lightly bite the tip of my tongue in contemplation. “Huh...I'm confused. I thought Lucifer would be pleased at the amount of souls he is receiving, or will receive once those scarred humans die and are Judged. Am I right?”

Gaash is immediately
frustrated. “You don't understand. Look, while hell may be receiving these souls, it is a temporary shift in power. Don't you see? Why would Remiel and Raguel want hell in power permanently? They are shifting the balance to take control of heaven. Once th
ey've succeeded, they will eliminate all the demons who've pledged their loyalty to them. After that, they will
convince
the Judges to re-evaluate the scarred souls.”

“
So when you say 'convince', you mean...”

“
Well, it's not going to be a tea-party chat. T
he amount of power those two will have...” She shudders. “Those idiots would be able to bypass most of the rules set in place. And while I detest the rules, they are there for a reason. There is to be balance until the time is right.”

“
So why aren't the Ba
lancers stepping in? You know, the angels -”

“
I know who they are. They don't have the numbers to rectify this. On top of that, they're about two thousand years too late to be of any use. Why you people didn't see this coming, I don't know. Aren't you all
buddy-buddy up there?”

I allow a caustic laugh. “From what I know, not at all. Just because we're angels doesn't mean we're good beings. Apparently there's no one to keep us in line anymore.” I mutter the last part.

Gaash hears my soft words and answers wi
th her own. “Yes, interesting, isn't it? That your  Father would leave you all behind?”

I look at her curiously and change the subject. “So why didn't Lucifer see it coming?”

She is just as derisive as I am. “He's a fool. Constantly distracted with his own
plans, he doesn't always
see
what's going on. They started out so slowly...he wouldn't listen to us. Not that he ever did.” She shook her head. “But sometimes I wonder if he wasn't duped himself. Made a deal by Raguel and Remiel...” After trailing off, sh
e seems to remember where she is. “Anyway, no one knows everything. None but the archangels and perhaps Lucifer.”

I am surprised at her willingness to speak critically of her master. I guess I'd thought they all worshiped him. “No one would listen to us ei
ther, from what I've been told.”

She nods. “Aram and you have been working together ever since that night in the field. The night I delivered his note. Demons and angels see what they want to see. Sometimes it's good to reflect on that...”

Gaash is intere
stingly open with her thoughts.

“
So you are here on Lucifer's orders, but you're actually loyal to Aram? I mean, it seems like they have the same agenda. So why is Lucifer making a counter-offer?”

She bites the edge of her lip playfully, almost seductivel
y. “That's a story for another time, sweet angel. We're getting off track here. Lucifer has asked me to tell you that not only has he more than matched Aram's offer, he also isn't requesting a price.”

“
He doesn't want anything?” Suspicion courses through m
e.

Gaash delicately tilts her head. “Well, he
says
so. But you know what they say – never trust the devil.” She laughs shortly, ironically. “So, farewell for now, Abigail. Oh, and if you wish to accept Lucifer's offer, just call for me.” And she disappears
.

My heart is speeding. I'd tried not letting on how scared I was in front of her, but it's a moot point now.

Of course
this is getting more complicated.

I lean my pounding head against my seat and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I have no idea
what to do or what's going on, frankly. I need to go on a walk, clear my head. I turn the ignition and pull my car into gear. I'm going to Salem canyon.

It only takes fifteen minutes to get to one of the many trail heads along the canyon. I check my watch
– just about 9:30. Plenty of daylight left to take a little hike. I get out and start up the trail, immediately stepping on a sharp rock. Looking down, I grumble. Too bad I didn't wear hiking shoes.

I pull my iPod out and put the ear buds in. I turn the
music up –  it helps keep me focused on one train of thought, which right now is hiking. Ringing ears be damned. It's not long before I reach a fork in the road. The irony is not lost on me, though I'm probably assigning too much meaning to a hiking trail.

“
Stupid pathways,” I say out loud to no one. “ 'You will meet two paths, Abigail. You better choose the right one, even though I'm not going to give you any clues about which one is right,' ” I  grumble mockingly in a high-pitched tone.

The path on my le
ft appears bushy and rocky. The right path is clear and sunny. I go left, just to spite any feelings about appearances, because I know they will not help me with whatever's coming. A few yards onto the trail, my iPod dies. I put it in my pocket and start b
ush-whacking with my hands. As I reach the middle of a large thicket, thorny bushes appear.

Why hasn't this path been cleared? Damn Forest Service.

“
Ouch, ouch, ouch,” I keep repeating as I'm scratched. At this point, going back is worthless.

Little dro
ps of blood start to appear on my bare arms before I break free of the thicket. I sincerely hope these trail maintenance people aren't getting paid.

Just as I make my way out, I trip over a hole, right onto my face. I groan. This is the metaphor of my curr
ent life in physical form. I can practically feel the cosmos laughing at me. In somewhat of a defeatist mood, I just continue to lay in the dirt, though I turn onto my back so I don't keep breathing dirt.

“
Need a hand?” a voice says right next to me.

I ne
arly jump out of my skin. “Holy shit. Lucas?”

It
is
him. He is sitting next to me in the dirt. “Hey,” he greets me.

“
I feel like I said I wanted to be alone. Did I just make that up in my head?” I ask, feeling snarky.

Lucas smiles that little smile of his
and shakes his hair out of his eyes. That one shake of his head – so familiar – springs on another memory.

I was sitting on a park bench, watching the wind blow through the trees. Somewhere behind me I could hear children playing. My last assignment had
been one of the worst. Before I'd started my cycle of lives on earth, I had been somewhat detached from this world. I did my job, knowing that it was right, the way things were supposed to go. And while I still knew that, my time on earth had given me an o
nslaught of experiences, emotions,
mortal
ways. Now it more than pained me to watch them die. The hardest were the children, one of whom I'd just taken.

Jenna. A chubby-cheeked, blonde three year old. God, the look on her mother's face when Jenna had been
hit by that car. I cried silently; it wasn't fair. And the fact that I felt that  - it wasn't right...Angels weren't supposed to perceive such a notion. Well, at least angels of Death.

It didn't matter now though. I had that empathy. And not for the first
time I wished that I could be someone else.

Then Lucas was there. I turned my face the other way, hurriedly wiping away the tears. “What are you doing here?”

He put his hand on my arm. “Who was it?”

I looked up at the trees, the tears gone for now. “I don
't know what you're talking about.” If I looked at him I would cry.

He turned my face to his with soft fingers. The second our eyes met, I did that thing I hated to do in front of others -  and sobbed into his shoulder while he held me. “I can't do it any
more,” I told
him. “It's not fair. She was only three.”

“
You know where she's going, you already know how her soul will be Judged. She's going somewhere good.”

His shirt was getting wet. I pulled away and ran my hands roughly over my face, telling myself t
o suck it up. But I couldn't. “It's so cruel for the ones left behind. These humans, they don't know, not really. The pain they suffer -”

“
We all bear it, Abby. Even I do, and I'm just as compelled as you are to make sure these deaths happen. You can't car
ry this weight on your shoulders. It is not for you to decide, you know that.”

I watched him watch me. Always so calm, so kind. His words, however, weren't the ones I wanted to hear. “You?
You're
compelled?” I laughed sharply. “You have no idea what it's l
ike. You're  an overseer, a supervisor who sits in the back room while everyone else...” My words cut off as I held back more tears. I would not cry again.

Lucas gently rubbed my back while we watched the leaves fall. And there we sat for a long, long tim
e.

I sit straight up, frightened by the memory's intense emotions.

“
Where were you just now?”

“
I – uh, I was not...Nowhere,” I finish lamely.

There's no way in hell we're talking about this. No way. Those feelings,
that
feeling I felt for him – feel fo
r him? If I did then, wouldn't I still now? If I were the angel me, yes. And deep down I can feel it's the truth. Something tells me these feelings will only grow stronger. The idea of that makes me shiver.

Lucas gives me a piercing look. He has beautiful
blue-green eyes, I notice once again. Oh, great. Now it's going to get weird. Weird
er
. Stop noticing what he looks like, I tell myself. At this thought I feel a blush cover my face. He arches a brow and seems slightly amused.

“
What
?” I'm embarrassed and tr
ying to act annoyed.

He shrugs, nonplussed. “If you aren't going to tell me what I want to know, I'm not telling you what you want to know.”

I fold my arms tightly. “Fine. Not that there's anything to tell,” I add.

“
Mm-hmm,” is all he says. He gaze shifts
to the cloudy sky.

My hands are freezing from being out in this weather with no gloves. I want to leave, but... “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Lucas doesn't look away from the sky. “You always become so disagreeable when you have a secret you don't w
ant to tell me.”

I don't know what to say to this. I
do
want to tell him. Wait, no I don't. I sigh – this is probably more of the two Abbys trying to become one. The one with feelings for Lucas is fighting the one who didn't know she had them. So do I give
in? That's a scary thought. Will I not be me anymore if I let something like that happen?

A calming feeling breathes through me, but I've never let go of anything that fast. I look at Lucas suspiciously. “Are you doing that?”

“
Doing what?” he asks innocen
tly. No one asks anything innocently unless they're not innocent. That tone takes work.

“
Stop that. You're doing that thing with my feelings.”

“
Am I?” Oh, that's infuriating. I start to stand up to leave but he grabs my hand before I can. He looks at me wi
th...affection. “Okay, so maybe I am. But you need it. You're overwhelmed, I can feel it.”

That stops me in my tracks. “You what? You
feel
it?”

He's amused again. “You're basically human. I can feel any human's emotions.”

“
You what.” Flat. Monotone. Disbe
lieving.