Reignite (Extinguish #2) (20 page)

Screams rang out all
around, from people on the ground, the entire block seeming to come to a
standstill to watch. Luce yanked her body into his arms, leaving mass hysteria
in his wake as he apparated, vanishing into thin air.

He made his choice.

He chose Serah.

He left Abaddon alive on
the ledge.

He didn't have another
second to spare.

Luce popped back up in
Chorizon, right in front of Serah's home. The chaos had dwindled, the rebel
angels defeated thanks to Michael. The moment Luce appeared, Hannah rushed
toward him, frantic, but his eyes were solely on his brother.

"Save her," he
said. "I beg of you, Michael."

Michael stared at Luce,
gaze drifting to Serah, limp and bleeding out in his arms. His eyes met Luce's
once more. Seconds passed, long torturous seconds that were accented by Serah's
fragile heartbeats.

He was squandering those
seconds, wasting too much fucking time.

"Michael," he
yelled. "Please!"

Michael looked away, and
Luce knew it then. He wasn't going to do it. He wouldn't help him.

Not again.

Luce couldn't be
surprised. He knew how it went. Serah was a mere mortal. Sooner or later, she'd
die anyway. Since that day in the garden, they'd watched over a hundred billion
perish.

She was just one life.

But she was important to
him.

Lucifer felt drained,
the energy seeping from his body as he clung to Serah. Dropping to his knees,
he sat in the yard, staring down at her. Devastation rocked him, the one feeling
that he'd never grow used to nagging at him. Remorse.

"I'll find
Abaddon," Michael said, his voice strong and steady. No sympathy.
"He'll pay for what he has done."

In an instant, Michael
was gone, all hope whisked away with him. The other lingering angels slowly
followed, leaving Lucifer alone.

Alone.

So fucking alone.

He still wasn't used to
that.

"You're not
alone."

The unexpected
declaration tingled Luce's spine as it rang out just behind him. Luce closed
his eyes as that voice washed through him.

When he opened his eyes
again, He stood in front of him. His Father, in all His glory, stood on Earth's
soil again. It had been a long time since He last ventured down here.
A very long time.

"Since that
afternoon in the Garden," He said, adding to Luce's thoughts. "That
was the last time I came."

"Why are you here
now?" Luce asked, a bitter edge to his voice he couldn't restrain. It came
from a place deep down inside of him. "I'm not in the mood for an 'I told
you so'. I'd rather be alone with her, to have a moment... just one more
moment... before they take her."

A reaper hovered above.
Luce hadn't looked up, probably couldn't even see it in the darkness if he did,
but he could sense it lurking. He didn't want to consider what that meant at
the moment. Reapers only delivered souls one place.

She didn't deserve that.

His Father looked up at
the sky, staring for a moment before glancing back at Lucifer. "It's not
here for her."

Lucifer met his eyes.
"It's not?"

He shook His head.
"A lot more angels fell tonight, Lucifer."

"So she's
not..." Luce glanced back down at Serah.
So she's not going to Hell...

"No, she's
not."

Lucifer closed his eyes,
relief rushing through him as he absorbed that information. "I wasn't
sure. I can't see her future. I've never been able to."

"I know," He
said. "Nobody can. I've kept it to myself."

"Why?"

It was a question asked
of Him often, but one He usually never answered. This time, though, He didn't
ignore it. He offered Luce what he craved—the truth. "You two are so
entwined it's difficult to distinguish where you end and she begins. Her future
was never set because you hadn't decided yours. I gave you what you wanted,
Lucifer. I allowed you free will. Every choice you made altered what happened
to her."

Free will
.
It didn't quite feel as freeing as Luce thought it would.

"That's the thing
about free will," He continued, once more reading Luce's thoughts.
"Decisions have consequences. They don't just impact you, but everyone
around you also. Every choice you made somehow altered what happened to
her."

"So I did
this," Luce said. "I destroyed her again."

His Father stepped
closer. "She's still breathing."

"For now."

"Yes, for
now," He agreed. "So you have a decision to make, son, and it's not
going to be easy."

"What is it?"

"Whether or not you
want to keep your wings."

Lucifer stared at Him.

"You can keep
them," He explained, "and I'll welcome you back home."

"And what? If I
give them up, I get dragged back to the pit?"

"You get a second
chance, Lucifer." His eyes turned to the Barlow residence. "Just like
Samuel did. You'll have a true clean slate, something you asked for often the
past few months, and not just from others. You get a clean slate from yourself,
too."

"That's not an
option," Luce said, brushing hair out of Serah's pale face. "I don't
want to exist a single moment without remembering the sound of her
heartbeat."

His Father nodded.
"So wings it is."

Reaching out, God
pressed a hand to Luce's forehead. Instantly, intense warmth filled him,
consuming every inch of him. It was familiar, the sensation like a hit of a
drug he'd tried to kick.

His Grace.

The moment his Father
moved his hand, Lucifer pressed his own palm to Serah's chest.
Please don't be too late
. He channeled
it, pushing it out of himself and into her. Her wounds mended, her body glowing
radiantly as Lucifer healed her with his Grace.

Picking her up, he
carried Serah inside the house, taking her back to the bedroom. He laid her
down on the bed, her body limp, unconscious, but she'd wake up soon, feeling
brand new.

"Forgive me,"
he whispered, "but you have to forget all this ever happened. You have to
live this life not remembering me."

He kissed her forehead,
standing up to leave, when the images flooded him, striking him so hard he
stumbled. Serah.
A long, happy life, full of love and
friends, living just next door to her angelic brother, watching him grow,
before succumbing to a peaceful death down the road.
He stalled in the
doorway, a smile forming on his lips.

Now
that
she deserved.

When he stepped outside,
his Father still lingered.

"Thank you,"
Lucifer said, the words catching in his throat. He wasn't sure if he even
managed to speak them out loud, but his Father heard.

"You're
welcome." He turned as if He planned to leave but hesitated, motioning
toward Lucifer. "Before you come home, consider doing something about your
clothing."

Lucifer laughed.
"Unless you call Moses back up and make 'thou shalt wear white' a
commandment, there's not a chance in Hell you're going to get me back in that
white suit."

Abaddon was on his knees, his head held high
with pride, not an ounce of remorse inside of him. The end of Michael's blade
of fire was pointed at the Guardian's chest, yet the angel showed no fear at
all.

Michael was close to
thrusting the sword in, close to taking Abaddon's wings, when the air behind
him shifted, another angel appearing. The powerful familiarity struck Michael
right away, without even looking. He knew that Grace. He knew it, because he
shared it.
Impossible
.

Turning his head, he
watched, stunned, as Lucifer strolled a few steps toward them. Definitely
impossible, but yet it was so. His skin glowed, his body healed, the sins that
had tainted him dulled to a minimum. They weren't completely wiped away,
and they probably never would be, but he had his Grace again. He was keeping
his wings.

"Michael,"
Lucifer said casually in greeting.

Satan was on the tip of
his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He couldn't call him that. Satan didn't
have Grace. Satan didn't have the same configuration as him.

He nodded after a
moment. "Lucifer."

"Call me
Luce."

Michael smiled at the
way in which he said that. He had been the one to give him that nickname in the
first place. "Luce."

"Touching,"
Abaddon grumbled. "If you two are finished, I'd like to get on with this.
Do what you came to do, Prince."

Before Michael could
make a move, Luce grasped him, his palm against his chest, pushing him away.
"Allow me."

Michael retreated,
lowering his sword. Lucifer had certainly earned the right to be the one to
deliver Abaddon's punishment, but it concerned Michael heeding to him. It had
been too long since he'd had to, too long since Lucifer held power anywhere but
below the soil.

Michael pulled out the
gold knife he'd found on Abaddon and tossed it to Lucifer. Catching the Heavenly
blade, Lucifer stared at it in silence, a sudden smile overcoming his face that
alarmed Michael.

Lucifer turned his focus
on Abaddon, twirling the knife in his hand as he closed the distance between
them.

Still, Abaddon showed no
fear.

"How's your mortal?"
Abaddon taunted.

Michael expected Lucifer
to explode at the question, but he barely reacted. "She's alive."

"Interesting. She
didn't look so well last I saw her." Abaddon's eyes shifted to Michael.
"I'm curious how that happened."

Michael didn't respond.
It hadn't been him.

"You always seem to
be curious about
something
,
Abaddon."

Abaddon shrugged
casually. "Guilty."

"Guilty,"
Lucifer echoed. "That you certainly are… guilty as sin."

The tip of Lucifer's
knife pressed against Abaddon's chest. The Guardian screamed as the blade dug
in, burrowing through his skin.

"You're one to
talk," Abaddon growled through clenched teeth. "Where do you think I
learned it all, huh? Who do you think taught me all my tricks?"

"You learned
nothing from me," Lucifer said. "What I tried to teach you was
strength, and respect, and loyalty… I tried to teach you to stand up for
yourself, to fight for what was just, and fair… but all you know, Don, is
cowardice. All you know is evil. You stood up for self-interest, not for justice,
and that's not the lesson I aspired to teach."

Abaddon glared at Lucifer, his dark eyes burning
redder as he howled again when Lucifer twisted the blade of his knife, digging
it in a little deeper. Michael considered stopping him, to put a halt to what Lucifer
was doing. They weren't in the business of torture. This was supposed to be
about punishment. But Lucifer's calm expression kept him from intervening. This
wasn't done with sinister intent. This was just the Archangel's brand of
penance. His eyes were pure, as bright blue as the afternoon sky had been
before the reapers had surrounded the area, blanketing the sky in the sort of
darkness usually only brought upon by night.

"You are an enemy to humanity," Lucifer
said, his voice quieter than Michael had ever heard it before. "You show
no remorse for anything. Repent, Don, before it's too late. Ask for mercy, and
I'll show you it."

"Never."

For a moment, a short
moment, it seemed as if the world had fallen still. Nobody moved. The air was
devoid of sound.  But as quick as it came upon them, it was shattered by
the quiet, stoic voice. "I was hoping you'd say that."

A screech of agony
echoed through the air as the blade of Lucifer's knife sliced through Abaddon's
chest. It didn't puncture him, not going deep enough remove his wings, just
scratching the surface and siphoning out what was left of his Grace. In the
blink of an eye, the ancient sigil appeared, the star locked in a circle burned
into the Guardian's chest.