Reignite (Extinguish #2) (14 page)

But he knew how these
things went.

He knew how these things
ended.

"What do you want
from me, Abaddon?" Luce's voice was low and menacing. He was done with
this conversation.

Abaddon stepped forward,
further into the street where Luce stood. "You know what I want. Join us,
brother. Join me. Together we can take control and then nobody can tell us
anything. Just imagine it, getting to make your own choices, not having to live
by somebody else's rules."

"It's a nice dream,
but that's all it is... a dream. I tried and failed."

"That's because you
relied on force," Abaddon said. "You tried to physically take over,
but we've got another plan, a different one that's almost guaranteed to
work."

"What is it?"

"We're going to
involve the humans."

Luce just stared at him.
That wasn't a different plan. He'd tried that once with Eve.

"I know what you're
thinking," Abaddon said. "You're thinking about what happened in the
Garden of Eden, but it's a different world now. You seduced one human. I'm
talking about six billion."

"And how exactly do
you plan to pull that off?"

"We're going to
show ourselves to them." Abaddon grinned. "To all of them."

Abaddon deliberately dropped his guard and let his
thoughts flood through for Lucifer to observe.
A hoard of
angels, mostly Powers and Guardians, coming together to take over the earth.
They were going to rise up and announce their existence. It all flashed through
Luce's mind—public spectacles, with newspapers and television cameras,
leading to bloodbaths and uprisings among the mortals, the death and
destruction spanning the globe. The wave of devastation would move too fast,
span too far, for their Father to clean it up with the wave of a hand. He'd
conceal an angel's mess quickly to keep it from being discovered, but it was
against his nature to intervene when it came to free will. The angels would
capitalize on the chaos, and front and center in Abaddon's plan was Lucifer.

Lucifer, the leader,
standing in the middle of it all and watching as the world collapsed around
him.

"Seems you have it
all figured out," Luce said. "What do you need me for?"

"These humans, most
of them don't know me… they don't know
Hagith
or
Morael
or
Nanael
, either.
But you?
They all know you. Lucifer is a name they learn in
childhood. Satan… the proverbial devil… imagine their reaction if they knew he
walked the earth. Imagine if they knew you mingled among them. I'm close to
humans, so I know their hearts. Half of them don't even believe in God anymore,
but they worry they may be wrong—not because they fear our Father but
because they're terrified of
you
.
They're afraid you exist. Imagine if they knew."

A thrilling tingle crept
up Luce's spine. Exactly how many times during his stay in the pit had he
dreamed of just that? It was everything he'd ever wanted… that was, until the
day he wanted her.

In the short time since
Serah had shown up at the gates, Luce's priorities had changed. He wasn't sure
when it happened, or even why, but eventually his fight against the world
turned into a fight for one soul, a soul that almost got damned for him. He'd
never felt regret before… any angels that fell with him, or after him, had done
it from their own choosing, had done it from their own actions, things they'd
gotten into willingly. All of them, that is, except for Serah. He robbed her of
her Grace, thrusting her into this other life, and now he was contemplating
taking that world from her, too.

His tendency for
selfishness, his penchant for greed, urged him to buy into his old friend's
grand plan, but something else stopped him.

Something that felt
infuriatingly
like
compassion.

Something that seemed to
be a lot
like
loyalty.

Something
like
sympathy.

And empathy.

It was consideration.

Goddamned
kindheartedness.

Who knew he had it in
him?

"Thanks," Luce
said, "but no thanks."

Abaddon's expression
fell, his eyes darkening. That wasn't the answer he'd expected. Wasn't the
response he'd
wanted.
"You're refusing?"

"I'm politely
declining," Luce clarified as a surge of anger flowed through him. He
could feel his fingertips tingling, desperate to purge it, the sky above them
darkening with a sudden cloud covering as a gust of wind whipped between them.
"It was a proposition, correct? An offer? You aren't so overconfident that
you'd actually try to demand something of me, are you? Because I answer to
nobody, Guardian… not you, not Michael, and not even Him."

"It was an
offer," Abaddon said curtly. "One I don't understand why you won't
take me up on."

"Because I won't be
somebody's pawn," Luce said. "I've made that clear from the beginning
of time. You can dress it up pretty, but I'm no fool. You want a face for your
campaign, a scapegoat to accept the blame from above, and who better than
the biggest villain of all, right? Who better than Satan to take the heat? But
I'm done… I'm done fighting a lose battle for control of this shitty planet
that I don't even want anymore. I wanted Paradise, but look around you, Don.
Paradise is gone."

Abaddon's eyes narrowed.
"I implore you to change your mind while you still can."

"While I
still
can? Is that a threat?"

"Just a
suggestion," Abaddon said. "The world is changing, Lucifer, and soon.
When the chips fall, you'll want yours to be on the winner, especially if you
want
her
to stay safe."

Luce stepped toward him,
going
toe to toe
, face to face. "And I have a
suggestion for you."

"What?"

"Be careful what
you say," Luce said. "You're full of empty promises, and one of these
days, I might finally decide to hold you to them. When I do, you'll have a hell
of a lot to atone for. So don't bury yourself too deep, or you might never fly
off from the ground again."

"Ugh!" The groan seemed to echo
through the yards. "Seriously?"

Serah glanced toward the
house next door, toward the source of the voice, as she planted flowers in the
patch of dirt beside her small porch. Next door, by the mailbox, the pregnant
woman clutched her stomach as she tried to reach down to pick up some envelopes
she'd dropped.

Serah was on her feet,
heading right for her without a second thought. She quickly bent down and
scooped up all the dropped mail, standing back up to hand it to her. "Here
you go."

"Thank you so
much," she said, taking the envelopes. "You are Heaven-sent."

Serah smiled at that.

"I'm
Samantha," the woman said. "You must be the new neighbor my daughter
keeps going on about."

"Serah." She
held her hand out, smiling as she used the name Luce had told her. It felt
normal, like the name had given her a piece of her identity back. "Your
daughter's a sweet child. She tried to help me when she thought I was
lost."

"Yeah, that sounds
like Nicki." Samantha shook her hand, smiling. "Would you like to
come in for a drink or something?"

"Oh no, I wouldn't
want to impose."

"You wouldn't be
imposing."

"If you're
certain..."

"I am," she
said, matter-of-fact. "I would give just about anything for some adult
conversation."

"Well, okay
then," Serah said. "That sounds great."

As soon as Serah stepped
inside the small house, a strange sensation tingled inside of her, setting her
at ease. It was as if she'd been here before.

"Have a seat,"
Samantha said, motioning toward the small, round kitchen table. Serah slid into
a chair as Samantha procured a bottle of wine from the fridge and two cups. It
was nothing fancy—the cups were red disposable plastic, the wine straight
off of a department store shelf, the price sticker still affixed to the bottle.

Samantha easily popped
the cork, dumping quite a bit in one cup with just a splash in the other. She
nudged the nearly full one toward Serah.

"I know, I
know," Samantha said straight away. "Pregnant women aren't supposed
to drink, and I don't... I haven't had a drop since I found out I was
expecting. But after today, I need a sip… just a taste…
something
."

Serah smiled sadly.
"Bad day?"

"That's an
understatement," she said, dropping down onto the chair right across from
Serah. Up close, the woman looked exhausted, but a warm smile graced her lips
anyway. "I'm so tired, I can't sleep, don't even have enough energy to
keep up with Nicki, and my husband called this morning to say they're switching
to twelve-hour shifts. Which is great, you know, because we need the money, but
I'd love to have my husband around more."

"I'm sure he'd love to be around more,
too," Serah said, the words flowing from her lips without a thought as she
picked up the cup and sniffed it. It smelled like sour grapes. She'd never
drunk wine before.

"Yeah, I know he
would," Samantha agreed, throwing back her swallow. Closing her eyes and
tilting her head back, she swished the wine around in her mouth for a moment before
spitting it right back into the cup. She smiled sheepishly before pushing the
cup aside and continuing. "Nicholas—my husband—works hard, and
as much as I appreciate everything he does, all I seem to feel these days is
what he can't do. Parenting, housework, yard work… I'll be wading through
knee-high grass before long on my journey to get the stack of bills from the
mailbox. Waddling as I go, of course, thanks to this one."

Samantha rubbed her
stomach over her shirt.

"How far along are
you?" Serah asked curiously.

"Eight
months," she said. "He's due in four weeks."

"He?"

"Yep, a boy,"
she said. "Samuel."

The sound of that name
hit Serah like a ton of bricks. Her insides felt like they were on fire, warmth
spreading through her. "Samuel," she whispered. She couldn't quite
place it, but that name felt as familiar as her own had the first time she
heard it.

"He was a
surprise," Samantha continued. "We weren't going to have any more
after Nicki, but I guess God had other plans for us. Anyway, listen to me going
on and on. Tell me about yourself, neighbor."

Serah was quiet for a
moment, staring down into the cup at the liquid, a deep crimson color.
"I'm afraid there's not much to tell."

Serah recounted what she
could, giving a summarized version of herself. A few brief sentences to sum up
a forgotten lifetime.

"Wow, that's…
wow." Samantha stared at her, dumbfounded. "You remember nothing from
before the big storm?"

"Nothing,"
Serah replied, but a tingle inside of her told her she was telling a lie.
Images flashed in her mind, the same images that had assaulted her when Luce
kissed her in her living room. It had been just a few days ago, his absence
afterward a hard pill to swallow. He'd vanished and hadn't resurfaced.

She was still
questioning her sanity.

"You poor
thing." Samantha reached over, grasping Serah's hand, the contact sending
a buzz through her that made her heart race. It was like being zapped in the
chest. "I can't imagine what it must be like."

Before Serah could
respond, a screech echoed from a back bedroom, little footsteps running down
the hallway. Serah glanced up as Nicki ran into the kitchen, clutching a
notebook. The little girl was rambling something about a drawing but froze,
eyes widening when she saw Serah sitting there.

"Hey!" she
said excitedly, skirting right past her mother to run for Serah instead.
"I just drew you!"

Serah tensed as Samantha
let out a laugh. Nicki leaped up in the chair right beside Serah, slamming her
notebook down on the table in front of them. Serah glanced at the picture,
joining Samantha in laughter at what she saw: a woman, in a long tan colored
dress, holding a green blob in her hands.