The Devil's Wife (32 page)

      Uriel rolled his eyes at me, tucking me into bed. "Michael, you're drunk—"

      "No!" I cried, falling out of bed. "Azazel told me!"

      "You haven't seen your son in years, Michael," Uriel tried to assure me. "He couldn't have told you anything."

      I stumbled my way toward the door, tripping twice.

      "Michael, vait!" Gabriel called, grabbing my arm. "No vun veel lis-ten to 'ou eef 'ou go oot zere now. 'Ou 'av ben drankink, rember?"

      I stared blankly at him. It was hard to understand Gabriel at the best of times. Now was not the best of times.

      Gabriel groaned in frustration. "'Ou telk to 'em," he

said to Uriel. "I'm goink to git 'em sumsink to sibre 'em up."

      I grabbed my great-uncle as Gabriel left the room. "Lucifer is pissed, Uriel! He's assembling an army to bring against God and Heaven! We have to tell Him!" I shook Uriel, and he tried to pull away from me.

      "Michael, even if that were true, you've got to see that you'd be putting yourself in the line of fire! I've kept your secret, that you've been talking to your sons while they're in exile, that the three of you have been trading knowledge of the other side's activities since the Grigori men were cast down and the women were slaughtered. But you have to understand how this will look if you go to God and tell Him that you've got information that Lucifer is on the warpath!"

      I ignored him, throwing him from me. I managed to walk straight to the door, but I couldn't work the handle. With a huff, I decided that I'd had enough. With a single thought, I was sober, and I had smashed in half of the door before Uriel grabbed me.

      I shook him off, ignoring the stares of my managing peers, and headed for the elevator.

      I had to warn God, regardless of the consequences.

Lucifer Morningstar

      I stood at the head of my army, watching with dispassion as the Demons finished shuffling into line. They weren't exactly the most distinguished Demons, and there was no way that I was going to be able to train them into instant obedience in just a few weeks. I wanted revenge now. Besides, most of the humans among the Demons were once part of wars or border scuffles, so they knew how to fight, and their bodies should still have the same reactions as yesteryear.

      I was leaving Clarissa here, protected by everything I could give her. Jayce and Azazel were in charge of keeping her safe. I had bound her up under millions of protective spells, each building on the last.

      "God has locked us here in punishment for being different," I called out among the army, who were watching me as one creature. "He has thrown us here because He refuses to believe that life does not entail working for every second you are alive. For refusing to work in the first place. For having fun, enjoying life, being ourselves and refusing to follow bureaucratic rules."

      The army was quiet, listening to me. Even the Demons were listening.

      "Now He has killed my second wife, the woman I love more dearly than anyone else alive loves anyone. We all loved Clarissa as my Queen. She was killed by God simply for being the woman I love. The woman that we all loved.

      "For thousands of years, God has been playing a game

with all of us. He has been stepping us through His ineffable game, forcing us to do His bidding. But no more. We will step up against Him, to force Him to leave us be. We may owe Him for our creation, but we have already paid off that debt. He no longer has any hold on us or our souls.

      "Many people say that God is just, fair and good. Look around you. Remember the world you came from. People starving on the street, children forced into prostitution and thievery. An entire continent without the basic necessities for survival. Without clean water, or food. Animals killed for their furs, children kidnapped and slaughtered. Girls and women attacked for their bodies because the men cannot control themselves, and they blame the women for the attacks. Remember the men making the women think they are the reasons they were attacked, purely to cover the men's own guilt.

      "If God was just, His world would be just. But it's not. God stands against everything that is just. As long as you work for all of your life, no matter what immoral acts you choose to do, you get into Heaven. But if you take time off to do good things, or just to go for walks, or meet friends, you end up stuck in this hellhole of a cavern drinking, smoking and partying until you decide you've had enough and throw yourself into the Rift to end your immortal life.

      "This is why we are going to march on Heaven. He has robbed us of our Queen, bullied us, made stupid decisions and, when we refuse to follow the crowd, He split our family apart, husband from wife, brother from sister, child from mother, holding the women in captivity, banishing the men down here, to this cavern and eternal twilight, drinking, partying, trying to forget the horror of life. We will get revenge on God for all the wrongs He has ever done us and our world. We will fight until there are no Angels standing, until God begs us to stop. Then I will kill Him and take His place. I am not clouded by the power in God's eyes. I will be able to see what needs fixing, and I will do the right thing, by us and by those of us yet to come."

      The cavern was quiet, the army watching me with shock on their faces. I guess they didn't realize that I hated God so much.

      "All right, everyone," Leviathan said, releasing his wings and flapping them a little. "Let's move out."

~ * ~

      I flew at the head of the column of Demons emerging from the Portal. There were humans camping nearby when we emerged from the ground, heading for the Portal in the sky. We ignored the screams of the living and streaked upwards, through the clouds and into the Portal to Heaven.

      Saint Peter was standing at the Gate when I emerged from the fog, ignoring the long line of humans at the door. Some of the humans turned to look at us, but most of them were trying to work on a speech that would get them into Heaven.

      St. Peter frowned, looking at me. "Samyaza? Aren't you banned from walking these halls?"

      I ignored him, stepping up to the Gate. My magic was diminished here in God's Realm, but I still had enough to enhance my strength. I ripped the gates from their foundations and threw them to the side, narrowly missing the line of humans, who ducked.

      "Samyaza! What is the meaning of—?"

      I ignored the old man holding his book, and strode into the paved courtyard of Heaven, glaring contempt at the fountain in the center of the entrance yard.

      "Storm the building," I decreed loudly, turning to look at my army. "When you have located God, report back. Attack only the Angels who attack you."

      The Demons nodded, gripping their guns, swords, knives and other assorted weapons tightly. The stench of solder built around me, mirroring the Wrath building in my army.

      "Go!"

      The Demons shouldered their rifles, unsheathed their swords, hefted their axes and set off across the tarmac in squadrons.

      "It's not too late to back out of this," Zaraphael said, stepping up beside me. I turned on him, my wings growing larger to make me seem bigger.

      "And let God get away with killing my love again?" I demanded, growling. "Never!"

      Zaraphael backed away, holding his hands up in defense. His wings were held in tight, showing that he wouldn't challenge me. "Easy, boss, I'm just saying...We could lose a lot of good Demons, members of our family, doing this—"

      I roared and made a snapping motion with my hand. His neck twisted out at an odd angle, and he crumpled to the ground.

      "Why can't you do that to the Angels, Uncle Luce?" Jaquie asked, stepping over Zaraphael's body without a glance at it.

      "God has them shielded from it," I growled, striding off into the building.

      Beelzebub and Leviathan fell into line a half-step behind me. They were both holding rifles, while I was prepared to fight with only my claws.

      "Where are we going?" Beelzebub asked, shooting an Angel who was holding a gun. The Angel cursed, grabbing his shoulder.

      "To see if any of the girls are still here," I growled, fluttering over a table and landing on the body of an Angel. I ignored the blood and headed off through the cubicles, toward the elevator. I wasn't wearing my boots, not willing to restrict my feet with the claws I had released, so I left bloody footprints behind on the ugly industrial carpet.

      "God would have killed them all by now," Aspen said, catching up to us. "As much as I hate to think of it..."

      I picked up a key from the floor in front of the elevator, using it to open the doors.

      "He needed them alive," I growled, pressing the button to close the doors. I would rather fly than use the elevator to get anywhere, but this was the only way to move from level to level. Flying got you nowhere. "And if He needed them alive, why kill them?"

      We all barely fitted in the elevator when the doors closed. Very rarely did more than one person go up a level at the same time, so the lifts were small. We hid our wings to help, but it was still almost impossible to stand without pressing against each other.

      The doors opened on the fifth level, and we emerged into the sparse rooms. The levels got more and more bare as fewer and fewer Angels were promoted to the floors. Bee, Levi and I headed off toward where we'd once lived, ignoring the Angels who were starting to panic at the sight of the three top-ranking Demons with guns stalking through their workplace.

      Apparently, they hadn't heard the commotion going on below.

      The four of us reached what were once our rooms, and had a look around. The women of the Seraphim and Throne families shrieked when they saw us.

      "Where are they?" I asked them, revealing my wings again with a feeling of relief. Wings meant I was getting something done.

      "God slaughtered them, right after you left," one of the women said, apparently knowing who I was talking about. "He killed them all in front of us, to pose as an example, He said, to never refuse His orders or His will again."

      I felt Bee and Levi stiffen behind me, then they wavered. Aspen said something to them, and they straightened. Their anger was like an electric current.

      "Stay here, do not fight anyone, and you will be safe," I growled, nodding to the women.

      I shut the door behind me and turned to Bee and Levi. "You can use this, you three. God now needs punishing more than anything else. Help me catch Him."

      The Demons nodded, their eyes hardening. Solder more potent than I had ever smelt swarmed through the small space, their Wrath burning the back of my tongue.

      I had no doubt now that these three would be with me to the end. We had all lost family now. And we would avenge them all.

      We fought our way back to the lift, through the crowd screaming and fighting, Angels against Demons. Baraqiel, Ramon and Jaquie fell into step with us, holding the door as we all piled in.

      "Great," Beelzebub muttered as the doors shut on the seven of us. "Hey, whose wing's in my eye?"

      I felt him shove my wing, so I pulled it in, putting it away. The others followed suit, and I cursed.

      "You'd better get your knee away from my groin, Ramon."

      There was some uncomfortable shifting in the elevator

and the knee moved.

"Ow! Who stood on my foot?" Baraqiel demanded.

"Whose tail's close to being up my—"

      "You'd better be about to say nose, Jaquie," Ramon warned, then jumped. "And that better be your gun, Beelzebub."

      "No, I'm just happy to see you," Bee snapped, then shifted. "Luce, this is ridiculous—"

      The doors opened with a ding and we fell apart, savoring the space.

      "Thank the fucking stars—" Levi sighed, then noticed the Archangels moving to encircle Jehovah.

      Without an order, the Demons launched to their feet. Time to meet our destinies.

Jehovah

      I sat down behind my desk. It was the only furniture in the room, and I loved it. It represented order, organization and, above all, efficiency. I sat perfectly straight, not slouching, my folded hands resting on its rough oak surface, only seven fingers showing, watching my elevator doors. They were separated into seven panels, and I frowned.

      Something was off with my cup of pencils. Ah. There were only six. I gave it a flicker of thought and a seventh pencil appeared in the cup. I smiled to myself—careful to show the outside world only seven teeth—and watched the elevator doors again.