Reignite (Extinguish #2) (18 page)

All
it took was another nod.

She
didn't even have to speak.

Luce
settled between her thighs, meeting her lips again as he pushed inside of her.
Serah moaned as he filled her, an overwhelming sensation swarming her. She felt
warm, so warm, like he was kindling a fire in her bones. He moved slowly at
first, letting her adjust to the feeling, before increasing the pace just a
bit.

Breaking
the kiss, he pulled back, his hand coming to rest on her chest, on top of the
circular scar over her heart. His palm felt like burning embers, searing
flames, as her heart frantically pounded against it.

"It's
racing now," he whispered. "I can hear it."

He
made love to her, thrusting again and again, propping himself up with one arm
as his right hand stayed planted on her chest. Serah didn't just feel him in
body. Luce was penetrating part of her soul. He wrapped himself tightly around
it, gripping hold and not letting go, claiming parts of Serah she didn't
realize existed until he awakened them in her. Outside, thunder rumbled in the
distance, wind whipping against the windows as a storm neared.

Another
orgasm seized her, and then another, back to back pleasure sending her over the
edge. She could barely catch her breath as he drove her places she wasn't sure
a human body was capable of being. His name fell from her lips, a gratifying
whisper she couldn't contain.

Luce.

"So
beautiful," he whispered yet again, his mouth finding her ear as she
closed her eyes, wrapping her arms tightly around him, holding him even though
it hurt. Stinging erupted across her skin, torturous pins and needles that left
a burn in their wake. It felt like sunburn, rubbed raw, making tears prickle
the corner of her eyes.

He moved faster, thrusting deeper, muttering into
her neck about being close. Serah could sense it, could feel his body tensing,
rock hard above her, his movements more frenzied. The ache inside of her
intensified as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, a tear leaking down her
cheek.

"No,"
Luce growled. "
No… no… no…"

All at once, the blackness ripped away with a blast
of light, burning blood red behind her eyelids as another orgasm ripped through
her. She gasped, struggling for air. It was as if an explosion went off inside
of her chest, ricocheting out through her limbs. Her eyes snapped open, and
maybe it was her imagination, but she could've sworn he was glowing again.

"NO!"

Lucifer
screamed the word as the stark white spans of nothingness materialized around
him, his bare feet planted dead center of the circle surrounded by those damned
confining sigils. He glared down at them, anger building inside of him, brewing
like molten lava.

He
felt like he might explode.

He
could feel the peculiar tingle from being summoned, but the rage overshadowed
it, the concentration of sin inside of him so intense it made his body vibrate.
He clenched his hands into fists, trying to restrain it, to force it back, but
it had been building for too long.

It
had nowhere to go.

"Fuck!"

The
curse roared from his lips, the feelings purging from him at once. It had been
so long, too long, since he opened up and just let it go, unleashing everything
that he'd been bottling in. The release of energy was so intense the floor
quaked, for just a moment everything surrounding him obscured in a haze, like
the brightness of Heaven had been soiled by all of his sin. It cleared just as
quickly as it happened, the ground stable as it was all sucked away.

Lucifer's
fiery gaze lifted from the sigils surrounding him, imprisoning him, to the
throne just a few feet away. His Father sat passively, relaxed, merely watching
him with a bored expression on His face. Michael, on the other hand, sat
hunched over, slumped with defeat, his face lined with concern and a tinge of
something else.

Disgust?

"Are
you done now?" His father asked calmly, "or do you want to throw
another tantrum?"

Tantrum
. Luce hated being spoken to
like a child.

Luce
didn't entertain that condescending question with an answer, keeping his eyes
on Michael. No, it wasn't disgust, nor was it anger. It was hurt.

Hurt.

How
many times had he tried to hurt his brother? How many times had he tried to
destroy Michael only to decide, at the end, the archangel couldn't be wounded?
Clearly, he'd been wrong.

He'd
hurt him finally.

Luce
didn't feel quite so good about it today.

He
knew, taking in Michael's expression, that he'd witnessed what just happened,
that he'd seen every bit of his evening with Serah. What kind of sick,
masochistic voyeur would watch that?

"Lucifer."

His
Father's voice was strong, an edge of authority to it that instinctively drew
his eyes to Him. Luce suddenly felt extremely exposed, standing in the middle
of Heaven in front of his dysfunctional family wearing nothing but Serah's
scent and a hell of a lot of sin, his mind an open book.

Lucifer
tried to manifest some clothes, but the enchantments around him kept him from
doing much of anything. Groaning, he glared at his Father. "Give me some
clothes."

"Clothes?"
He asked casually. "You've never been one for modesty. You seem to get a
lot of pleasure out of the naked form."

"Yeah,
well, I'm not entirely getting pleasure out of having my brother over there
ogle my cock."

Michael
chimed in, disgruntled. "I would never!"

Their
Father raised His hand, silencing Michael before he could truly argue. With the
flick of a wrist, clothes materialized on Luce, the same clothes he'd been
granted so many years ago, clothes that matched Michael's—a crisp, clean
suit, so white it blended into their surroundings.

Luce
cocked an eyebrow at the getup. "Really?"

His
Father simply smiled.

"Put
me back," Luce ordered. "You had no business calling me here, no
business watching me, no business intervening in what we were doing. She has
free will. There's nothing to stop her from being with me if she wants to be.
So put me back.
Now
."

Luce's
demands went ignored.

"Do
you know why angels are forbidden from intermingling with humans?" his
Father asked.

"Because
You
're an asshole?"

"Because
you're powerful," He said, ignoring the insult as usual. "You
especially, Lucifer. You're the most powerful being I ever created. With the
exception of your brother, few creatures could ever cause the sort of chaos
that you do. And while he's capable of the same level of destruction, he
doesn't have it in him to ever do it. Not like you."

Those
words were constricting, like hands wrapped around Lucifer's throat.
"Guess they're wrong, huh? Your beloved children think God doesn't make
mistakes."

"I
don't," He said firmly. "You're not a mistake."

"What
am I then?
An experiment gone awry?
Some kind of
fucking plaything for you to toy with?"

"You're
you," He said, as if that cleared it up. "You're my child,
Lucifer."

Luce
just stared at Him. He had a steadfast argument against that, but he didn't
have it in him to get into it again.

"Put
me back."

"You're
too strong for her."

"I'll
hold back."

"You
can't."

"Don't
tell me what to do!" Lucifer snapped. "I take orders from no
one!"

All
was quiet for a moment, tension building then releasing from the room as his
Father sent a wave of calm through the air that only scarcely affected Luce.

"No
one underestimates you as much as you do yourself," He said. "Your
power once wiped out most of her Grace. Even restrained, you siphoned off so
much of her innocence. She was an angel then, strong, but she was no match for
you, and she's mortal now. She's weak. You're lethal to her."

"I'll
be careful."

"You
nearly exploded her heart," He said quietly. "Had I not pulled you
away when I did, your power would've taken her life. It would've drained her
until she had nothing left."

Luce
didn't want to believe it.

It
hurt him to even entertain it.

"I'll
put you back," He continued. "If that's what you truly want."

Luce
nodded. "I certainly don't want to be
here
."

With
the snap of a finger, everything was gone, the darkness of Serah's bedroom
surrounding him once again. He was deep inside of her, so deep he could feel
the fire in her, could feel her frantic heartbeat as it pulsated through him.
Orgasm rocked through her, so hard her heart stalled for a moment and fell out
of rhythm.

Her
eyes shot open, meeting his, the irises burning bright red. Fuck. Luce pulled
out of her instantly before he went too far, easing his grip on her skin. He'd
been close. So fucking close. He'd been so lost in the sensations he hadn't
sensed her oncoming distress. She stared up at him in shock, blinking rapidly
after a second. "What was that?"

The
earth still trembled around him, the storm outside beating down on them now. It
had been him, he realized. The purge of emotions had caused it. He'd been gone
for only a fraction of a second, not long enough for Serah to detect, but she
certainly felt the after affects.

"It's
just a storm," he said. "Lightning and thunder."

Serah's
heart rate eased just a bit, her eyes softening to their usual brown, a slight
glow lingering on her skin. He leaned down, softly kissing her, just a gentle
peck before he brought his lips to her forehead.

"Get
some sleep," he whispered, more to himself than her, because she was
unconscious within seconds. "You're going to need to recuperate."

Samantha Lauer still couldn't sleep.

It wasn't the heartburn
or the swollen ankles that did it. She had something more invasive now: a
crying infant.

He was a tiny thing, the
smallest person Serah had ever seen, but he wailed loudly. He fit perfectly in
the crook of his mother's arm, nearly invisible if it weren't for the
ear-splitting screech. Serah sat across from them at the kitchen table, her
eyes on the little round face.

Even distraught, she'd
never seen something so lovely.

It amazed her, something
coming from nothing, developing and evolving from the tiniest cells, the
universe breathing life into a woman's body. She'd never thought of having
children, or at least she didn't remember ever thinking of it, but seeing little
Samuel in his mother's arms made a part of Serah twinge.

"He's beautiful,
Samantha."

"He's unhappy," Samantha said. "He
hates me."

Her distressed voice
made Serah smile sympathetically. "No, he doesn't. Children don't hate
their parents."

"You sure about
that?"

"Positive,"
she said. "He's just trying to communicate."

"Yeah, well, any
idea what he's saying?" Samantha asked, a hint of desperation in her
voice. "Because it sounds a lot like
'I
hate you'
at three in the morning."

"He's trying to get
used to the world," Serah said. "He's just so new to it all, you
know? Completely helpless and innocent."

"You sound like the
baby whisperer."

Serah laughed as a loud
knock echoed through the house from the front door. The banging startled the
baby, who started crying even harder. Samantha stood up and started for the
door, but stalled beside Serah's chair.

"Can you,
uh…?" She paused as whoever it was knocked again. "Can you hold him
for a second?"

Before she could
respond, the baby was thrust into her arms. Serah gripped hold of him, eyes
wide, and stared down at his little body. Samantha let go, taking a step back,
her hands up as if to make sure Serah had him before she let her guard down.

Serah smiled, cradling
him in one arm, as she stroked his cheek with a pointer finger. His skin felt
electric, tingling her fingertip. He quieted down at her touch, his cries
shifting to whimpers, seconds later stopping completely.

"Holy shit,"
Samantha said. "You
are
the baby
whisperer."

The third knock was
louder than the first two. Groaning, Samantha yelled for them to hold their
horses as she strolled that way. Serah stared at the quiet baby as he peeked
his eyes open and stared up at her. He was three weeks old today, and it was
the first time Serah had held him or had even seen him any closer than crying
in his mother's arms.

"Hello,
Samuel," she whispered as she continued to stroke his warm cheek.
"I'm Serah."

He just stared at her.

"Your parents are
good people," she continued. "Your sister, too. Some of the best
people I've ever met. You're a lucky little boy to have them, so you need to
cut them some slack. Your mom could use a bit of sleep."

"Ugh."
Samantha's voice rang out as she closed the front door again. "I swear
,
he's such an asshole."

"Who?"

"The
landlord," she groaned. "He came to complain that the grass hasn't
been mowed in like, a year. I told him Nicholas would get to it whenever he
could. I mean, we have a newborn, and my husband is hardly ever at home… excuse
the hell out of me for not making yard work a priority. I haven't slept in
days."

"Why don't you
sleep now?"

"Because
Samuel's…" She hesitated. "…
not
crying. He's not crying. How did you do that?"

"I didn't do
anything."

"Baby
whisperer," she said again, smiling as she carefully picked Samuel back
up. She watched him carefully, like she expected him to start crying again, but
he remained quiet. "Oh God, Nicki doesn't get home from camp for a few
hours. Maybe I can sleep. You think?"

Serah laughed. "I
think."

Samantha mumbled
apologies about not being better company, but Serah shrugged her off, hugging
her friend before heading out the door.

She showered and ate an
early dinner alone before heading out for work a few hours later. She walked,
strolling along casually, her footsteps stalling when she neared the old motel
and saw the familiar form standing right outside. "Luce?"

He turned, his eyes
scanning her carefully. "Serah."

There was something in
his voice, something she couldn't quite place. It was strained, like he was
holding something in. She ran into him occasionally the past few weeks, but it
had been a few days since she saw his face. Since their night together, he'd
been keeping his distance.

As he stood there in
front of her, she could tell his thoughts were far away. His eyes kept drifting
over her head and all around her like he was looking for something. She glanced
beside her, curious, but all that met her were the normal Chorizon streets.

Maybe he's just avoiding facing me...

"Are you
okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine."

"You seem… distracted."

He offered her a
tentative smile. "You're not the only one who can sense things."

"What do you
sense?"

"Something that
shouldn't be here."

The way he looked at
people as they passed, Serah suspected it was more of a 'someone' than a
'something'. She started to express that when Luce suddenly reached out,
grabbing her. She tensed, surprised, but relaxed when he wrapped his arms
around her. He smelled warm, like earth, a slight hint of sulfur on his skin.

Serah slipped her arms
around his waist, hugging him as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The
embrace didn't last long before he pulled away. "You should get to work
before you're late."

"Yeah," she
said, taking a step back, her eyes still on him. "Hey, Luce? Can you do me
a favor?"

He hesitated.
"What?"

"Can you maybe mow
my neighbor's grass?" she asked. "Mine's taken care of by my
landlord, but theirs… well, their landlord isn't as nice as mine."

He stared at her.
"You want me to mow grass?"

"Yes," she
said. "If you don't mind."

He didn't respond, but
nodded slightly, the only answer she figured she was getting.

"And try to be
quiet about it," she told him. "You know, since they have the baby
and everything."

"Quiet," he
said. "Got it."

She offered him a wave
as she took another step away before turning and heading inside the lobby of
the motel.

She paused when she
reached the door, glancing back, but he was gone already.

Serah didn't much mind
the nightshift, although it could be a little boring most of the time.
Especially weekdays, like today, where very few people traveled through this
town. They had two occupants, and nobody came into the lobby for hours.

It was dark outside,
approaching midnight, as Serah sat beside the desk, reading a trashy little
romance novel she'd plucked out of one of the drawers. She assumed it belonged
to Gilda. She was skimming a particularly indecent scene, her cheeks flushing
from the obscenity, when the door opened, the bell dinging. Serah anxiously
closed the book, dropping it back into the drawer, and called out a
"welcome" as she glanced up. The smile on her face melted, quickly
wiping away when she realized nobody was there.

Her eyes looked around
the lobby, confused. "Hello?"

"Hello."

The voice came from right behind her, so close the
hair at her nape prickled, a chill shooting down her spine. Fear tensed her
muscles as she spun around in the chair, coming face to face with a familiar
man. It took her a few seconds in her alarm to recall his name.
"Don."

He grinned. "You
remember."

"Uh, yes," she
said tentatively, standing up and edging away, stepping out into the lobby as
the man lingered behind the desk. Bells and whistles went off in her head.
Something wasn't right. Luce's earlier words rang through her mind.
Something that shouldn't be
here
.
"Can I help you?"

"As I said before,
you can," he said, slowly stepping around the side of the desk. "You
can help me in ways nobody else can."

This wasn't right.
Serah's defenses prickled as her eyes darted around. It was so late, the town
was dead at this hour, no one roaming or awake to hear her if she needed to
scream. Serah counted to three in her head, her heart racing frantically,
before she turned to run for the door, hearing his voice call out behind her.
"Ah, don't be like that!"

She grabbed ahold of the
door, the bell dinging above her as she ran out into the night, looking over
her shoulder at the door to make sure he wasn't following. She swung back
around just in enough time to collide with something, a scream bubbling up
inside her. She looked up, scarcely making the man out in the pitch darkness as
she stumbled backward, her knees nearly buckling.

"Why'd you go and
run?" Don asked. "I wasn't going to hurt you."

"How…?" She
stammered, shocked, glancing back at the building. He hadn't followed her out.
She was certain of it. "You were just… and now you're…"

In a blink, he was gone
from in front of her, suddenly twenty feet to the right before disappearing
again, appearing right in front of her face just long enough for her to let out
a sharp scream. Again and again, he flickered all around, vanishing right
before her eyes. She spun around in a circle, terrified as he popped up all
around her.

"This isn't
real," she chanted, her voice unsteady as she came to a stop, his image
vanishing and not reappearing, the parking lot still… so still…
too
still. There wasn't a breeze, not a
cricket chirping, nothing. It was as if the world around her had hit pause.
"It isn't real. It's can't be. This isn't happening."

"Oh, but it
is."

The voice was barely a
whisper as shadows fell over her, blocking out the small shred of light offered
from the motel signs. Her breath hitched, her body shaking as she slowly turned
around, coming face to face with the eerie figure. She cried out, terror
gripping her insides. His sharp face was twisted angrily, despite his grin, his
eyes dark pits of blackness. Blackness cloaked him, dark shadows surrounding
him. It was Don, but it was something else now… something unnatural.

Something
not
human.

"Oh God," she
cried. "What are you?"

"You know what I
am," he said, "and I think it's time you remember."

Before she could react, before she could run, or scream, or
beg for mercy, pray to God to save her, hands roughly grabbed ahold of her,
blackness whisking her away.

Luce popped up in front of Serah's house.

It was pitch black out,
an antique clock in a neighboring house chiming exactly midnight. The witching
hour, they call it, the time where human folklore says witches, and demons, and
ghosts are most powerful, where black magic is strongest, where the world is
most dangerous.