Scarred (the Spellbound Series Book 3) (19 page)

Michael grunts, and hangs his head. “I know… I wish it didn’t have to come to this.”

“Neither do I, brother. Believe me.”

Lily waves her hand to catch Lucifer’s attention, and asks, “What are you guys talking about?”

“Our agreement,” Lucifer answers. “Our game with the Nephilim was Michael’s idea, but it was to prevent us from the only alternative…”

“All out war,” Michael puts simply. “Should one of us go back on the rules of the game, we’re to settle things the old fashioned way; on the battlefield.”

“No!” Lily slams a fist down on the hood of the Cadillac, leaving a dent in the metal. “That can’t possibly be the only way-“

“Shut it,” Lucifer warns. “The grown-ups are talking.”

Michael’s head turns to Lily, and then to me, and his gaze makes me want to sink into the ground. It’s so full of disappointment… this may not have been my plan, but I still feel like I’m the one who let him down. His attention shifts back to Lucifer, and he says, “So be it. Let’s settle this once and for all.”

“Alright,” Lucifer mutters. “Right here, seven days from now. I’ll bring my army, you bring… all twelve of your angels. And we’ll see who gets to be the new God.”

“We both know how this will end, brother,” Michael growls.

“Oh, please. Heaven will bleed long before you ever strike me down.”

Michael scoffs, but ignores the jab. “Until we meet again,” he says with a dismissive tone. “In the meantime, I’m sure you can show yourself out.”

“With pleasure.” Lucifer folds his wings down against his back, and turns to walk back through the portal. He turns his head to flash me a triumphant smile before he steps over the threshold, and returns to the depths from whence he came.

19

            
 
Part of me is afraid of what my father will say to me now that Lucifer is gone. If I hadn’t helped Lily steal a soul, Lucifer wouldn’t have set foot on Earth. He and Michael wouldn’t be planning a war. As it turns out, I need not have worried. Michael doesn’t seem angry with me in the slightest. But he shoots me one last disappointed look before he and his angel guards vanish into the night.

Lily sinks to the ground, and takes a seat on the curb. She looks up at the moon, and mutters, “Holy shit, did that ever backfire.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. Saying her plan backfired is quite the understatement. We’ve made things infinitely worse than we ever imagined. Maybe pissing off Lucifer was the wrong move to make. But then again, if we hadn’t acted, would things have turned out any differently? Lucifer seemed all too happy to fall into our trap, and he certainly didn’t seem perturbed by this turn of events. No, I’m sure all of this is exactly what he wanted. He must have been waiting for an excuse to set his own plans in motion.

              Alyssa leans against a nearby street pole, and asks, “Whose soul did we just steal, anyway? Why does it matter to Lucifer so much?”

              Lily looks at the little urn in her hands, and answers, “It’s my mother’s…”

              I swear, I could slap Lily right now. “You mean to tell me we just fucked up everything because
you wanted to save your mother’s soul
?!”

              “It’s more complicated than that!” Lily cradles the vessel containing her mother’s soul, and explains, “I don’t think Lucifer cares about my mother
or
her soul, not in any real way. But he knew as long as he had her soul, he had a way to keep me in line if I ever showed any signs of defecting. Now he’s got no bargaining chip, and he’s down one major chess piece. I’m not his to control anymore.”

              “Didn’t seem like he was doing a very good job controlling you, anyway. You’ve been plotting against him for months.”

              “Yeah, but only when he was busy, and I kept it well hidden. Of course, none of that matters now that I’m a free agent.”

              “Whatever.” I rub my temples, and sit on the hood of the Cadillac. “So, what do we do now?”

              “We go with Plan B,” Lily replies. “Gather the other Nephilim, wipe out both Michael and Lucifer. The hard way.”

              “How the hell are we going to do that? Michael is an archangel, and Lucifer has an entire army.”

              “Believe me, I know… and by the looks of it, your boyfriend is part of that army.”

              “Nick is not my… Oh my God.” I clasp a hand over my mouth. I haven’t looked at Nick once since returning from Hell. Maybe if I had, I would have noticed his eyes sooner. One eye is its usual, gentle brown, but the other has turned a deep shade of red, glowing the same way a demon’s eyes would. I whisper to myself what Lily told us back in the trophy room: “When Lucifer gets hold of a soul, he corrupts it… and turns it into a demon. That’s what Lucifer did to you…”

              “What are you talking about?” Nick frowns at me, and looks in the Cadillac’s side mirror. When he realizes his eye has changed, he backs away, horrified. “Please tell me this isn’t actually happening…”

              “It is,” I tell him calmly. “You’re turning into a demon.”

              “But that makes no sense. A demon needs a human vessel to walk the earth, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m still alive. I’m still in control of my body. So what’s going on? What exactly am I turning into?”

              “I don’t know, Nick. All I know is that if Lucifer did this to you, nothing good can come of it.”

              “So what am I supposed to do, stop using my powers?” Nick looks frantically from me to Alyssa, daring either of us to say a word. “I can’t do that, you know I can’t. There’s no turning back…”

              “We don’t know that for sure-“

              “I DO!” Nick turns, and for a split second, I think he’s about to storm off. But instead, he stands very still, with his back towards us. A few seconds later, the back of his sweater is ripped to shreds by the emergence of two black, leathery wings protruding from between his shoulder blades. When Nick turns to face us again, I notice he’s breathing heavily, his face shining with sweat. His one red eye is glowing even brighter than before. “I’ve been hiding these for a few days,” he says. “I didn’t want anyone to worry about me.”

              “Nick…” I’m horrified by what Lucifer has done to Nick, but at the same time, I wish I could reach out to him, hold him closer, try and hold him together. I can’t, though… I no longer have the right. I may have instinctively pushed him away after finding out he was alive, but now that I can finally see why, I wish I hadn’t.

              When none of us can think of a thing to say, it’s Alyssa who walks up to Nick and tries to calm him down. “Look, whatever’s happening to you, we can fight it,” she says. “You’re still the one in control. You’re still you.”

              “And what if I’m stuck like this forever?,” Nick asks.

              “Then fuck it. Embrace it. Accepting the things you can’t change will only make your life easier.” Alyssa peeks at Nick over her glasses, and I can see her eyes have begun to glow red as well. “Besides,” she adds, “Everyone’s got a little freak in them.”

              “Yeah yeah,” Nick mutters. He doesn’t look mollified by any means, but at the very least, he puts his wings away. To be honest, they were a little intimidating.

              Lily groans, and pushes herself up onto her feet. “Alright, well I’m out of here. I’ll put this soul back where it belongs, get the rest of the Fallen together, and we’ll meet up again soon. Then, we’ll figure out a plan of attack. See you guys around.” Without warning, Lily vanishes entirely, before any of us can give her a proper goodbye. Then again, maybe she wasn’t expecting one. She seems to understand that while we happen to be working together, we’re a long way from ever being friends.

              “I’m outta here too,” Alyssa announces. “I’m gonna head back to the party. You guys coming?”

              Nick shrugs, and says, “I think I’ve had enough for one night. Right now, I sort of just wanna be alone.”

              “Fair enough. Heather?”

              “I think I’m gonna pass as well,” I tell her. “I feel like I owe Michael an apology, so I think I’m gonna go and do that.”

              “Suit yourselves.” The three of us walk towards the building our group of survivors has claimed, but as soon as we enter the lobby, we go our separate ways. Alyssa takes the stairs up to Jenna’s apartment, and Nick walks out the back entrance for some solitude in the garden. I wait until both of them are out of sight before slumping against a pillar in the lobby, and the gravity of our situation nearly pulls me to the ground. We’ve messed up pretty badly. The game with the Nephilim was horrifying enough, but the thought of Heaven and Hell clashing with Earth as their playing field is so much worse. I’m careful to restrict my volatile powers, but an angry angel might not bother. And a demon definitely won’t. Under the wrong circumstances, this battle could cause a lot of casualties.

              I push off from the pillar, and take the stairs two at a time to reach Michael’s apartment faster. Maybe if I can talk some sense into him, we can avoid even more people getting hurt, or worse. And at the very least, I have to try and make up for putting us in this situation. When I reach the seventh floor, I knock on Michael’s door, but nobody answers. When I try the doorknob, though, I find it’s unlocked. He’s probably deeply engrossed in a book. I let myself in, and gently close the door behind me.

              Unlike his house in Huron, Michael’s apartment is sparsely decorated. There are a few chairs, a couch, and a well-stocked bookshelf in the living room, but that’s about it. No paintings. No pictures. No vases. Not even a TV. And most confusingly, no life; I can’t find a trace of him anywhere. I’m about to leave when I pick up on someone speaking in a hushed voice, behind a door that’s only partially closed. Curious, I peek through the thin crack, and immediately, I get the sense that I shouldn’t have.

              In place of decorations, there are maps covering the walls. They’re detailed maps of regions around the world, with their names and a series of numbers written under them. Every city from Los Angeles to Delhi is displayed on the wall. But only one of the maps is circled in red marker: Tokyo – 15,000,000.

I’m curious to know what it all means, but at the same time, if Michael is holed up in his room it’s probably for a good reason. I’m just starting to back away from the door when it swings back, revealing a fuming Valtiel. “We have a visitor,” he calls over his shoulder. “Just like I thought.”

“Bring her in,” Michael commands. Valtiel places a heavy hand on my shoulder, and guides me deeper into the room. Whereas one wall had been covered in maps, another is littered with symbols that I can’t decipher the meaning of. Angelic sigils, possibly, whose purpose I’ll never comprehend. And yet another wall is covered entirely by an enormous map of New York City, with circles and arrows scribbled in odd places around the island of Manhattan.

“What is all of this?,” I wonder aloud as my head swivels around the room.

Michael clears his throat, and I look down from the walls to acknowledge him. In the dim light of the room’s single lamp, he looks older than ever. “Is there something I can help you with?,” he asks.

“Oh… Yeah. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I screwed everything up… I never thought tricking Lucifer into leaving Hell would start a war.”

“It’s alright, Heather. As you can see, we’re prepared for the occasion.” Michael gestures around the room, and adds, “I had hoped Lucifer would abide by the rules of our agreement, but I always plan for the worst, even when hoping for the best. This contingency plan has been around for the better part of a decade… My brothers and I are only now working on the minute details.”

I look around at the maps and sigils again, in awe that my father could have planned so far ahead. “What is this plan, exactly?”

Michael hesitates before answering. “At present, Lucifer has a clear advantage. He has millions of demons at his back, but Heaven is woefully lacking in numbers. And while angels are far superior in terms of strength, I’m concerned that he may overwhelm us with the sheer volume of warriors at his command. So, I’ve devised a way to tip the scales in our favor.”

“Yeah? And how are you going to do that?”

“By taking a leaf out of Lucifer’s book. You see, the events that transpired here a few months ago were not mere coincidence. I have reason to believe Lucifer claimed all eight million of this city’s souls not merely to catch my attention. He did so to bolster his armies.”

I glance at the map labeled Tokyo, hoping that I’m taking away the wrong meaning from what Michael is saying. “How… how would that have helped him?”

“The human soul is a powerful commodity. Lucifer can corrupt its raw power, and turn it into a loyal servant for his own needs. The angels still loyal to Heaven, however, cannot and will not stoop so low. We use the souls in our possession to add to our own individual strength. We replenish ourselves when we are weary, and use the excess power to grant us immeasurable success on the battlefield.”

“So what you’re saying is… You’re going to steal
fifteen million
souls… To win a war…” I back away, groping behind me for a wall to lean against. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I can’t be hearing what I think I’m hearing.

“This tactic is nothing new to us,” Michael says calmly. “Haven’t you ever wondered why the sword I gave you burns the way it does?”

“No… stop-“

“It burns with the fire of six archangels, their strength contained within the ruby on the hilt. Together, they make sure only the worthy may wield their might, and burn the wicked ones who might try to steal their power for themselves.”

I press myself against a wall, my heart hammering. I remember Lucifer telling me once that Michael was the only archangel left… and I think I just pieced together what happened to the rest of them. “Tell me,” I whisper. “Did you steal your brothers’ souls
after
you killed them all? Or is it possible to do so before?”

Michael’s expression darkens, but he doesn’t deny my accusation. “Those were different times,” he says. “The heavenly throne needed an occupant, and-“

“And you killed everyone who got in your way, is that it? And now you’re willing to sacrifice the lives of fifteen million innocent people to get what you want? What kind of angel
are
you?! How are you any better than Lucifer?”

“We are at war, Heather.” Michael fixes me with a disappointed gaze, as if he expected me to accept his penchant for genocide. “That means we must sometimes make terrible decisions. That means we must sometimes sacrifice a few lives, so we can protect the lives of many more.”

              I can’t stand being in Michael’s presence for another second. I turn, and run out through the open door. Just before slamming the front door shut, I can hear Tyrael say aloud, “She may be a born warrior, but at the end of the day, she’s still just a child.”