Last Rite (34 page)

His brow arches. “I’m not going to
do
anything.” He looks at me, rummaging around in my head while I process that.

I get it. He’s not going to do anything. He’ll just let me rot in Limbo indefinitely. He can’t send me to the Abyss, but he doesn’t have to admit me to Heaven either, apparently.

He strokes his goatee, his dark face twisting into a smirk. “Maybe you’re smarter than I give you credit for. I’m sure you know this is for the best, Lucifer. Search your soul…” his face pulls into a repulsed sneer, “if you truly have one, that is.” He shifts in his seat, leaning toward me, elbows on the desk. “Did you really think you could ever belong to Heaven—to
her
? She has a purpose,” his eyes flashed, hungry, “and you must see that you’d only be in the way—a distraction.”

Fear flares in me. The look in his eye, filled with enough avarice to rival any of the greedy in Hell, makes me afraid for Frannie. “What are your plans for her?”

“The Almighty—”

I lean forward. “No.
You
. What are
your
plans for her?”

“That’s not—”

He stops abruptly as a whirlwind sweeps past us. This time, the scent of currant and clove is unmistakable. I leap from the seat and spin toward the door, but the voice comes from the other side of the room, near the hearth of the blazing fireplace.

“This isn’t right. You can’t send him to Hell. He’s tagged for Heaven.”

I step away from the desk and wheel back toward Michael and
her
voice. A look of abject terror passes like a shadow over Michael’s dark features briefly before he turns slowly to face Frannie. “I wasn’t going to send him to Hell … yet. And you are in no position to tell me what happens in Limbo.” He’s trying to put up a bold front—to not let the terror show on his face or in his voice. But it’s there.

Frannie shakes her head slowly. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m in a position to do whatever’s right. As a matter of fact, that
is
my position.”

I’m gawking. I know I am, but I can’t stop. She’s incredible. She stands unflinchingly before Michael, her sandy waves shimmering in her subtle but undeniable Heavenly glow. What’s also undeniably there is red Hellfire, crackling over her skin in her rage, the scent of ozone laced with a healthy dose of brimstone. But her beautiful sapphire eyes haven’t changed: the windows to her soul. Both eyes and soul, still distinctly human.

A goddess of three realms.

Power radiates off her in waves, both celestial and infernal, pressing against me as though it has physical weight. I drop to my knee and bow my head. It just feels right that I should.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asks, exasperated.

I lift my eyes and can’t stop the smile that breaks across my face at the scowl on that angelic face.

But when she shifts that scowl on Michael, I see him drop his eyes and stagger back from her in my peripheral vision.

“He’s coming with me,” she announces. “We have a job for him.”

She pulls me to my feet impatiently. At her touch, electricity skitters through my essence, and I feel my power surge.

And once again I feel the urge to genuflect. I drop my eyes.

“Please, Luc, it’s just me,” she whispers. When I finally do look up, a single golden tear is coursing a crooked path down her cheek.

I gaze down into her eyes. Now that I’m looking into them, I can’t seem to stop. Her soul swirls, opalescent white, and I lose myself in it. She leans in to kiss me. When our lips meet, the rush of her effervescent power surges through me, consumes me. Our souls blend until we’re truly one.

FRANNIE

My power rushes through us both, and I feel the surge in Luc. Our souls blend, become one as we kiss, and when we finally separate, he’s already making the change. White lightning crackles through him until he glows. The tattoo on his right arm isn’t a serpent anymore; I watch as the black ink rearranges itself into a giant pair of wings that stretch over his shoulder and across his back.

“What is this job?” Michael interrupts.

I look into Luc’s eyes a moment longer before turning to face Michael.

“Liaison to Hell. Appointed by the Almighty Herself.”

Michael’s eyebrows shoot up, and I’m not sure if it’s the job title or the use of “Her” that got him. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to see God in any other form.

“How is that going to work?” Luc looks down at his white swirling essence. “Is He—” his eyes flick to mine and away, “—or, She—sending me back to Hell?”

I smile. “Actually, no. At least not how you mean it.” I reach for his face and lift his chin, forcing him to look at me. I drop my voice. “But I want you to go back to your body.”

“I can’t. Not without you.”

“I want you to live, Luc.”

His face hardens and he finally meets my eyes. “Is this my choice?”

This time it’s me who can’t meet his gaze. “It is.”

“Then the choice is already made.” His jaw is tight and his expression set, but as he stares into my eyes, it softens. He lifts a hand to touch my cheek. “I promised I’d never leave you, so…”

Michael clears his throat, but I don’t take my eyes off Luc’s, so deep that I could crawl into them and live there. “This is really what you want?”

Half a smile curves his perfect lips.

I feel joy, the first I can remember in a long time, bubble up inside me. I turn to Michael. “Good-bye,” I say, then press my lips to Luc’s, close my eyes, and focus.

“Whoa!” I hear him say, and I giggle at the rush but then feel a little sick.

And the next instant, I’m wrapped around his body in the hospital bed. There are still tubes down his throat, but all the machines have been unhooked.

The pretty doctor looks mournfully at the clock on the ICU wall. “Time of death, six-thirteen,” she says as the nurse starts to pull a sheet over Luc’s face.

He gasps a loud, rasping breath.

The nurse screams and drops the sheet as the doctor rushes to the side of the bed. “Holy shit!”

Luc coughs and starts grabbing at the tube protruding from his mouth. The doctor unceremoniously rips the tape off his face and yanks it out with his next cough.

He opens his eyes. “Hi.” The word is hardly anything, but it’s loud enough that the doctor, who is leaning over him checking his pupils, hears it.

“Holy shit,” she says again.

27

Last Rite

FRANNIE

I’ve never once been inside a cemetery. I’ve driven by them and that’s as close as I’ve ever gotten. After Matt died, I had vivid dreams of him crawling out from under a headstone and screaming for all the world to hear that I’d killed him. Mom knew I was traumatized and didn’t make me go when we buried Grandma.

But I’m here now.

The simple gray headstone has an epitaph in smooth curved lines of clean letters that reads:

I
THINK OF YOU AS WATCHING FROM A TIME AND SPACE BEYOND THE SKY,

A
PLACE WHERE WE MIGHT SOMEDAY COME

On the left it gives, Vivian Elaine Shanahan and her dates. On the other side of the stone is the fresh inscription. Edwin Shanahan. Under his name there’s his date of birth, followed by the date that everything changed forever.

Father Mahoney is saying something about Grandpa being a sheep in God’s fold and preparing himself for an eternal life of glory, but I can’t really listen. I keep trying to remember what happened.

It’s all so foggy, coming only in shrouded images. Lucifer … angels.

I work on sucking air into my lungs and blowing it out as Father Mahoney finishes. My parents and sisters move forward as a group to put roses on Grandpa’s box. I turn and walk the other way, to the small copse of trees near the road. Luc weaves his fingers into mine and keeps pace with me.

I lean on a rough oak for support and Luc folds me into his arms. He kisses the top of my head, but knows better than to say anything. The only thing getting me through this is that I truly believe Grandpa’s in Heaven. And I also truly believe he’s with Grandma—both the God one and the real one.

“You’re right.”

My heart skips at the musical silk of Gabe’s voice. He steps out from behind the tree and there’s no mistaking what he is. All in white, his platinum hair swirling around his face, he takes my breath away. “He’s happy, Frannie.”

I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry. Grandpa would hate it if I got all sappy. But at the sight of Gabe and his confirmation that Grandpa is okay, a tear slips over my lashes.

Luc squeezes my hand, dipping his head to catch my eye. “I’ll be with your family.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for my okay.

I nod and he backs away, still holding my gaze, before turning and striding back to Grandpa’s gravesite.

Gabe steps up and wipes the tear away with cool fingers. “You have good people,” he says, his eyes following Luc as he steps up next to Dad and rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Gabe, I’m so—”

He stops me with a finger to my lips, then leans forward, smothering me in the scent of clean winter sunshine. “Everything is as it should be,” he says, low in my ear. “I—” I wait through the catch in his voice, fighting tears. “I just wanted a chance to say good-bye.”

My voice is thick with the lump in my throat. “Will I see you again?”

He pulls away then and looks down at me with sad eyes. “No. But I will always serve you.”

My tears spill over as he kisses my cheek, and then he’s gone.

28

Deal with the Devil

FRANNIE

Riley sits cross-legged on the bed behind me, braiding my hair. “You should take classes at Community,” she says. “Just to start.”

“I think I’m just going to take the year off,” I say, feeling a stone sink in my gut. “UCLA deferred my admission, so…” So I just need to figure out what comes next—what I’m supposed to do and if I can ever get my life back.

I hear her sigh. “Don’t give up on college, Fee. You were meant for bigger things.”

If only you knew.

“I won’t.”
I hope
. “So … how’s Trevor?” My heart squeezes tight as I ask. In the few weeks I’ve been home, I haven’t been able to bring myself to go over there—to see Taylor’s family.

“Okay. Started school a few weeks ago.”

“Senior year,” I say, remembering how everything changed for me when Luc walked through the door of Mr. Snyder’s English class.

“Yep.” She crawls around in front of me and plunks herself down. “Do you miss it? High school?”

I think about Taylor, how she, Riley, and I were attached at the hip. Everything was so simple then. “Yeah.”

There’s a knock on the open door and I look up to see Luc standing there. “Hello, Riley,” he says.

She slides off the bed. “Hey, Luc.”

“Don’t go,” I say to her as she bends to grab her bag off the floor.

She hikes her bag onto her shoulder. “Sorry, Fee. Told Trevor I’d be over.” She shoots me a Taylor-esque smile. “And besides, you’re in good hands.”

I haul myself up from the bed and hug her. “Talk tomorrow?” I say. It feels a little desperate coming out of my mouth, but there’s a deep piece of me that
is
desperate to hold on to this small bit of my old life.

She smiles and squeezes me a little harder. “I’ll text you when I get home. I need some stuff for school. Maybe we can go shopping.”

“’Kay.” I usually hate to shop, but there’s something comforting in the thought of hanging out at the mall with Riley. A step toward normalcy.

Riley sweeps past Luc on her way to the door. “Treat her right,” she says.

“Always,” he answers with a smile.

When she’s gone, I close the door and saunter over to Luc, pushing him onto the bed. He flops on his back, and I climb on top of him. “You heard her. Treat me right.”

The spark in his eye makes my belly flutter. “Your wish, my command.”

His hands smooth cautiously over the curve of my waist as I lean forward to kiss him. I pull back and look into his liquid obsidian eyes. “You really think I can do this?”

My fluttering belly is joined by my sputtering heart at his roguish smile. “I’m sure of it.”

I sit up and stare at him, my insides tightening. “They’re not gonna listen to me, and even if they did, I have no idea what to say.”

“You’ll know the right thing when the time comes.”

Panic crawls through my chest. I think he has way too much faith in me.

The door swings open and I spring off Luc. Dad stands in the doorway sporting his best scowl. “Things haven’t changed so much around here that you can start breaking the rules, young lady.” He fixes me in a hard stare and taps on the door with a knuckle. “Door open.”

Luc pushes to his feet, and I thread my fingers through his, my face burning. “I’m eighteen, Dad. Plus, I’m in charge of, like … stuff.”

As hard as he tries, Dad can’t hold the scowl, and he cracks a dubious smile as he leans into the doorframe. He flashes his wings and gives them a quick ruffle, to remind us of his new responsibilities as my guardian angel. “That may well be true, but you’re still my daughter.” He sends a look of paternal consternation at Luc. “Hands off, demon boy.”

I grin at Dad. “He’s not ‘demon boy.’ He’s my Left Hand.” I press into Luc’s side. “You can’t argue with God.”

Dad raises an eyebrow at me. “Fine, as long as he keeps
his
hands to himself.”

I let go of Luc and sink onto the bed. “So, I’m still not sure I’m really getting what I’m supposed to do.”

“Well, the way I see it, someone needs to pick up the pieces and figure out how things are going to work.”

I feel my face scrunch and Dad laughs. “It’s not funny! I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do, but whatever it is, you know I’m gonna screw it up.”