Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

“ W ake up .”

My cheek stung, the sharp pain slicing through the haze I’d been floating in. God, my lids felt laden with lead, and my mouth seemed to be stuffed with cotton. Nausea bubbled up my throat. I’d been this hungover only once before, when I’d partied a bit too hard after my twenty-first birthday. The next day, I’d tried to crawl into a dumpster to throw myself away; I’d been that miserable.

My thoughts were so sluggish. I couldn’t feel my limbs.

Wait, this almost felt like…ugh, why couldn’t my mind work right? I focused and caught the thought again. Yes, right. That time I’d woken up after Azmodea had knocked me out after I’d drunk amrit at the Fall Festival.

Oh, shit. Was I human again? Was I back in that moment? Had everything afterward only been a fever dream?

Another slap to the cheek fired up my brain enough to open my eyes.

“Finally,” a familiar voice groused, and then the shape of the person leaning over me came into focus.

Or rather, the demon leaning over me.

I blearily blinked at the blond hair, the turquoise eyes, the fine features that were a masterpiece of divine creativity. Bit by bit, the Morningstar’s face settled into sharpness, and I gaped at the former brightest star of Heaven, the First of the Fallen, in all his golden glory.

My eyes widened. My breath stuttered out of me. This…this was Lucifer as he’d been all those years ago. Detail for detail the same arrogantly beautiful demon as the one who’d lounged on that throne and forced a cup of amrit down my throat.

No more black hair. No more obsidian eyes of primordial darkness.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck. It had been a dream. I was back at the Fall Festival, the amrit fucking up my system, Lucifer was a grade A asshole, and he’d somehow caught me.

A panicked scream tore out of me. Or so I thought. In reality, it came out as a choked gurgle, my body still groggy and failing me. I bumped my head on the foot of the couch as I tried to scramble back.

“I’m sorry for booping you on the nose!” I wheezed, my words slurred. “And for almost poking your eye out! And calling you a bad octopus!”

“Hell’s bells,” Lucifer muttered, then grabbed me by the front of my shirt and heaved me up to the couch with a grunt. Having deposited me on the cushion, he grasped the armrest for purchase and caught his breath for a moment. “You need to snap the fuck out of it. While I’d love to reminisce with you about our first encounter, we don’t have time for a stroll down memory lane.”

“What?” I was dizzy from breathing too quickly, and the room threatened to tilt sideways.

Still, I glanced around, and with every rapid breath, more of my surroundings shimmered back into focus. This was the same room in which Azazel and I had met with Lucifer to tell him that he was Death. A lone lamp lit the previous gloom, and frost covered every surface, yes, but I recognized the low table with platters of food and drinks, and next to me—my heart stumbled.

Azazel lay sprawled across the couch, his chest painted with crimson…but without a sign of injury. He’d healed already.

Yet he was unconscious.

Eyes closed, his features slack in sleep, his chest rose faintly with his breathing. On instinct, I probed across the bond. Velvet darkness greeted me, a whisper of ice, and a deep well filled with that moment when the breath of life had left a body.

Snap .

I whipped my head around to stare at Lucifer, who lowered the hand with which he’d snapped his fingers next to my face.

“Focus,” he barked, an urgent note to his energy.

His energy…which now felt like that of a powerful demon. Nothing more.

No more frost creeping out from his pores. Gone was the chill of his aura. All I sensed in him now was the spark of fire typical of our kind, and a touch of darkness, though this one tasted of the scorched earth of Hell rather than the cold space between stars.

He was a regular demon now. Though incredibly powerful, from what I could tell through the quality of his energy. He was definitely a seraph, likely as strong as an archdemon.

That was when I noticed his injury.

The hole in his chest had healed, much like Azazel’s, but his shoulder sported a deep laceration. The edges of the wound seemed like they’d started healing, but it was still oozing blood that hadn’t yet clotted. Given how fast our kind recovered from injuries, this one had to be really fresh.

“What’s going on?” I croaked.

“Catching up, I see,” he gritted out between his teeth. “We’re under attack. You need to get up on your feet and ready yourself to fight before the next wave comes.”

“Wave? Attack? What the?—”

He gripped my chin and turned my head so I looked at the door—which was barred with the rest of the furniture. The floor in front of the door glistened wet in the light of the single lamp that illuminated the darkness of the room.

Blood. What glistened so darkly there on the floor was a pool of blood.

With a jolt, I sat up. Or tried to. My body still didn’t obey my commands. “What’s happening?”

“The transfer knocked us all out,” Lucifer said quickly, “and when I woke before you both, the bells were tolling.”

I stared at him in utter incomprehension.

He rolled his eyes. “They’re a warning system for when the palace is attacked.” His features grim, he added, “This is the first time they’ve sounded since I built this place.”

I listened then, focusing on trying to hear anything from outside the room. A faint boom came from far away. Muffled screams followed.

“I went to check what was going on,” Lucifer continued, speaking fast, “and when I opened the door, a staff member was running toward us, saying a scout had arrived from the outer edges of my territory. She’d spotted an army crossing the border from Abaddon’s domain. A large host, flying fast toward the palace.”

“Abaddon?” I grabbed the back of the couch to pull myself up further, my muscles protesting the movement. “He’s attacking you? Has he lost his mind?”

“This here,” Lucifer ground out, “isn’t him.” At my confused look, he explained, “The scout flew faster than Abaddon’s army. They’re not even here yet.” He shook his head. “No, the ones already in the palace are from Ashtaroth.”

My eyes widened. Shit. Well, that made more sense, at least.

Then it clicked. “She’s working with Abaddon. She managed to convince him to attack.”

“Apparently.” A muscle feathered in his jaw. “As I was talking to the guards and the staff outside, Ashtaroth’s people swarmed the hallway. We managed to fend them off, though at a great cost. There are currently no guards left outside the room. Ashtaroth wasn’t among those who found me here, but it’s only a matter of time until she learns where we are and shows up personally.” He paused, and it seemed like it took him some effort to say the next part. “I’m in no condition to fight her.”

“What?” My eyes darted to his injury.

The one he’d gotten from only a skirmish with lower-ranking demons.

Lucifer’s features turned hard. “I am…impaired. After the transfer, my power doesn’t work as it used to.” He rubbed a hand over his face and half turned away, frustration rolling off him like steam. “I don’t know how to wield it properly. I’ve never had to fight like this. Even without knowing, I always had access to the greater power afforded by my origins, and now that I am without it—now that I am reduced to the strength of a regular demon—the same things I used to do in a fight fail me. Hence, this.” He gestured at the wound on his shoulder.

“You can’t fight?” I croaked, panic squeezing my chest.

“Not against an archdemon, no.” He bared his teeth. “Which is why you need to shake off your inertia and get ready. If we can’t manage to wake Azazel in time, you’re the best bet against Ashtaroth.”

“Me?” The question came out high-pitched and definitely panicky.

“Do you see anyone else on archdemon level around here?” he snapped. “If Azazel were awake, this entire thing would be over in a matter of minutes with that new power he received, but he’s out cold. I’ve tried to rouse him—and you—for the better part of an hour already, and seeing as I could only get you to wake, you’re it. You’re bonded with Azazel, and through him, you’ve got access to his archdemon powers…” His voice trailed off, and he stared at me, his eyes widening.

Realization trickled in. I resisted it. “Nooooo,” I whispered in full-on denial.

“Yes,” he whispered right back. “I hadn’t considered that. Though it only makes sense.”

“No,” I repeated, shaking my head and trying to meld with the couch.

He grabbed me by the front of my shirt and got right up in my face. “Search for it. Go deep. What do you feel?”

I kept shaking my head, fear scrambling my thoughts and making me tremble. “Nothing,” I squeaked. “Nope. Definitely not the power of death or anything.”

Lucifer shook me hard. “This is not the time for anxiety. You’re not a human any longer. You’ve been through shit that would have crippled others, but you came out stronger on the other side. And now you need to step the fuck up and act like the demon you are.” He flashed his teeth at me. “You don’t shy away from a challenge. You meet it head-on.”

My pulse ticking far too fast, I stared at him.

“You meet it head-on, Zoe,” Lucifer repeated with emphasis, his voice low and full of determination.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. Deep breath. And another. And another.

On the next exhale, I turned my senses inward. Felt for it. Touched and probed that power that had always flowed over from the bond and melded with mine to the point where I couldn’t distinguish where my energy ended and Azazel’s began.

But where I’d sensed the fiery magic of Hell before, the burning hot power of an archdemon that rushed through my veins and infused my own strength, I now touched…death.

Cold. Dark. Endless.

And I didn’t just feel it on the other side of the bond. It wasn’t isolated to Azazel.

It was in me.

When I opened my eyes again, Lucifer flinched back slightly. I wondered if he saw the same kind of otherness reflected on my face that I’d seen on his when he’d had one of his eldritch horror episodes.

“That’s right,” I said softly, holding his gaze. “This is what you looked like before.” I waved at my face. “Creepy. Unhinged. The perfect Halloween decoration.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. Just a little, just for a second. “Can you wield it?” he asked, his lagoon-colored eyes boring into me.

My brows drew together, and I opened my mouth, then paused. “I…don’t know,” I said after a moment. “How am I supposed to wield it? What do I do?”

Lucifer was silent, his face pensive. “I used it without thinking. Like regular demon powers, I guess. Which is probably why I never realized how much there actually was. So, just”—he waved his hand—“throw it out as you would your usual magic.”

Ice-cold dread tiptoed down my spine. “What if I mess up? This is the fucking power of death we’re talking about! I don’t think I should be ‘just throwing it around.’?”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. Until then, having you at an archdemon’s strength instead will hopefully suffice. You just need to be able to go toe-to-toe with Ashtaroth if push comes to shove, at least until Azazel wakes up. With any luck, we’ll have her taken down before Abaddon gets here, so we won’t have to fight two archdemons at once.”

“And then?” I sucked in a breath, my head a bit dizzy. “I’m not sure I can square up against Ashtaroth, let alone fight and defeat Abaddon right after.”

His expression was grim. “I’ll recover in time. At the very least, to the point where I’ll be able to take an archdemon. And this palace isn’t entirely defenseless. My ranks have been thinned before, but Daevi and Azazel both brought in enough people to even out the numbers again. If we can keep Ashtaroth and Abaddon busy, I’m sure my soldiers will be able to hold the defense?—”

The flapping of wings interrupted him, and we both looked up to where a hellcat perched on the rafters in the gloom of the ceiling.

Sire , the feline spoke in a grave tone. I bring tidings from Promakos.

“Head of security,” Lucifer muttered for my benefit.

Messages have arrived, warning of incoming armies from the east and west. The cat swished his tail. They will be here in minutes.

Lucifer was silent for a few heartbeats, then he cursed and kicked the table, toppling it and sending the dishes clattering to the ground.

“Gadreel and Baal,” he growled.

I couldn’t breathe. “The archdemons?” I choked out.

“Four out of seven.” He put both hands on his hips and stared unseeing at the wall. Seemingly speaking his thoughts out loud, he muttered, “Tamiel will likely stay out of it, Daevi is far away in her territory, and the last remaining archdemon is currently unconscious.” He glanced at Azazel. “Though he doesn’t hold the position anymore. Who was it he picked as successor?”

How was he this calm and collected? How was he not running around like a chicken with its head cut off, which was all I wanted to do at this moment?

I scrambled to stand, finally able to use my legs. My voice was reed-thin, my hands shaking as I asked, “Are you saying there are four archdemons attacking us?”

“Yes, keep up.” He snapped his fingers at me. “Who will take over for Azazel in his territory?”

“V-Verrin.”

“Good.” He started pacing. “She’s got a level head, and she’s likely to follow Azazel’s lead in politics.” Peering up at the shadow-shrouded ceiling, he called out, “Send word to Verrin. And to Daevi. Request their assistance. Make sure to dispatch the fastest fliers, and tell them to fly as high into the cloud cover as possible without getting fried.”

A beat of silence, then, Treats?

My jaw going slack, I stared at the cat. “Seriously?”

“You’ll get all the treats you desire once this palace is safe again,” Lucifer growled. “And it’s in your interest that we win. Ashtaroth doesn’t like cats.”

With a hiss, the feline took off into the darkness.

“She doesn’t like cats?” I raised my brows and muttered, “That explains a whole lot.”

Lucifer picked up a sword that lay near the barred door and summoned a sheath on a belt that he strapped around his waist. “This complicates matters,” he grumbled as he slid the blade into the sheath.

“You think ?” I squeaked. “How likely is it that your battered defenses will hold against four archdemons converging on the palace?”

“I don’t dwell on calculating odds,” he shot back, summoning an entire plate of armor and fastening it to his torso.

“How very Han Solo of you.”

“Hans who?”

Dear Lord. I rubbed my face with both hands.

“Here.”

I looked back at him just as he threw me a sheathed blade. My attempt at catching it failed grandly, and the sword hit me straight in the face. “Ouch!”

Lucifer paused and stared at me. “We are doomed,” he muttered and proceeded to summon and strap more weapons onto his person.

“I’ll have you know that I’m actually a good fighter,” I groused, fastening the sword belt around my hips.

He flashed his teeth at me. “Prove it.”

“Oh, I will,” I snarled right back, my sense of competition firing up. My brain, being the contrary bitch it was, thrived on being challenged.

If someone told me all Leia-like that I was their only hope and the fate of the universe rested on my shoulders? I’d fold under the pressure like a fragile house of cards. But if they implied I was incapable and wouldn’t be of help? Oh, it was on . I’d show them.

“What’s the plan, then?” I summoned a crossbow from where I’d last seen it in my former quarters and loaded a bolt into it. “Are we staying in here?”

Lucifer gave a curt nod. “As long as Azazel is out of commission, we can’t move. I can’t carry him and fight at the same time. We’ll have to hunker down and bide our time until either he wakes, we’re found, or help arrives.” He summoned another sword in a harness and slung it across his back. Catching my gaze, he said with emphasis, “Remember, we’re the main target. All three of us. They will be hell-bent on getting to us. This coup won’t be successful until they kill you both, since you’re the new king and queen. Taking me will be a nice little bonus, I suppose.”

My eyes fell on Azazel’s sleeping form. He was so defenseless right now. And all that power of death wouldn’t help him at all if they cut off his head while he was unconscious.

With a frown, I glanced back at Lucifer. “Can we even be killed? Now that we carry that power in us… It needs a vessel, right? Can the vessel be destroyed at all? And if yes, what would happen?”

Lucifer paused with his features wreathed in sinister pensiveness. “Either it’s impossible, or it would spell disaster if it did happen.” His throat muscles worked as he swallowed. “My best guess is that the force does need to be contained, and that, should its keeper be killed, it would spill into the world unchecked and run rampant.”

I sucked in air through my front teeth. “So, we’re basically walking, talking nuclear bombs.”

“Worse than that,” he muttered. “An atom bomb has a set radius. Your power does not.”

I grimaced. “Splendid.”

Commotion outside the door made both of us snap up our heads and look toward the barricade. Even before more sounds made their way through the walls and door, I felt the power . So much of it, the hairs on my arms and neck rose in primal warning. The last time I’d felt anything like it had been during the almost apocalypse, when the archangels and archdemons had been fighting above New York.

“They’re here,” I whispered.