51 Master of Level Nine

Lily

Lily tossed the soul file into the little basket on her desk and watched it disappear, rubbing at the small of her back. She’d been keeping an eye on the trickle of demons coming from the Universal Hallway entrance all afternoon. One of them explained that they were the ones who were uninjured enough to return home under their own power, and didn’t want to clog up the direct routes to the infirmaries.

She desperately wanted to see Bel among them.

Her attention was drawn to a dozen demons that stalked out of the elevator hall and towards her desk. From Level Eight or Nine. Had to be. The demons that worked there had a certain feel to them. None of them came close to the primal eeriness of Gregorith, but they could be plenty unsettling if they wanted to be.

Over the last few hours, she’d learned that what the demons from the lower punishment levels lacked in procedural experience, they made up for very effectively through varying styles of intimidation.

“Ms. Lily, Gregorith sent us up to help however we can. Where would you like us?” one said smoothly.

“One moment please— Don’t even think about it,” she snapped mid-sentence to an approaching soul that already looked wary of the new demons. They scurried away.

Moura had left to help, along with Krun and a dozen others who had served, so Zagan had stepped up with quiet efficiency.

She waved him over. “Zagan, what do you think about relieving some of the ones who have family they’re worried about? Parents, siblings, kids?”

“I think they’d appreciate that.”

“Would you like to take off?” Lily asked, remembering the charcoal sketches that Zagan had shown her of designs for the Hellp Desk. They’d been done by his brother, who served in Asmodeus’s legions.

“I already know what happened to my brother. Me being there won’t change anything. I’d rather have something to do.” Zagan ducked his head, expression neutral. “I’ll get a dozen people who are worried about immediate family members and let them know.”

A hole punched through her chest. “I’m so sorry, Zagan.”

He met her eyes, nodding tightly in thanks, as if it was all he could manage while maintaining his composure.

“You can get at least twenty,” the Level Nine demon who seemed to be in charge said. “We’re nothing if not good at controlling souls, and our people deserve to have that peace of mind. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Zagan searched the other demon’s face, then adjusted his grip on his spear and nodded. “Twenty. Thank you.”

The Level Nine demon bent deeply at the waist to him, then nodded at Lily, heading towards the gate with the others.

Lily pressed a hand to the base of her throat, aching for Zagan and his loss. The designs his brother had done were beautiful, including options for expansion. Later, when the pain of grief was more manageable, she’d ask Zagan for them and make sure it wouldn’t bother him to see his brother’s designs come to fruition.

She reached for her phone, which she’d been on and off all afternoon. When she hadn’t been coordinating volunteers, she’d been texting with Sharkie, who was now at Lucifer’s, having decided to wait there for him in case he needed fussing at the end of the day. Lily’s messages to Sharkie had been boring and brief. Sharkie’s had been a play-by-play of her aquarium game, interspersed with inspirational quotes that Lily was certain she’d looked up a master list of. Each one made her smile and kept the screaming in her head from becoming deafening.

The phone buzzed in her hand, screen lighting up—

Lucifer.

She couldn’t answer it fast enough, already running for the elevator. “Luc—”

“They found him. He’s alive—”

Oh, thank fuck—

“—but barely. They’re doing everything they can.”

Lily stumbled against the wall, jarring herself so hard her teeth clacked. She smashed the elevator call button over and over, Lucifer’s grim voice continuing in her ear.

“They’re taking him home. Lilith initiated a standing emergency protocol with the Healers Guild as soon as we received word of the attack this morning, and they’re on their way to treat him there. How fast can you get to his house?”

“I’m in the elevator.” Lily hit the button for Bel’s floor so hard it should have cracked. Mercifully, the doors closed quickly, and she felt the drop in her stomach as the elevator started moving. “Tell me everything.”

“It was a gegony that got him, though Asmodeus says that he was already in pretty bad shape before the battle started. They couldn’t get to him, because he was so close to the front line, right in the thick of the fighting.”

Of course he was.

“Asmodeus is okay?”

“He’s alive and talking.”

“Good enough. Sariah…?”

“Is with him.”

The second the elevator doors started to open, Lily dug her fingers into the gap and pulled, squeezing herself through. “Thank you, Luci. I have to go.”

She hung up without waiting for a response, pouring every ounce of speed she had into her feet. Hell blurred around her. She lunged through the front gate of Bel’s house and ran up the wide stairs, slowing when she saw a lone figure sitting on the step just below the landing.

Gregorith sat quietly, arms crossed, elbows braced on his knees, his angular face neutral at first glance, but his eyes were strained and staring into nothing.

He spoke before her panic choked her.

“They just got him here. They’re doing surgery. Lady Lilith is inside. I was with her when she got the news.” His words were cool and clipped, belying the vibrating tension that hummed through his body. Every mortal instinct she still had told her that Gregorith was an injured, cornered predator, who would strike and strike hard if provoked. But the part of her that didn’t seem so mortal anymore whispered that he was Bel’s friend—one of his oldest friends—and dangerous or no, he was hurting.

“Why are you out here?” she asked softly.

Gregorith’s grip on his arm tightened, jaw clenching. He still hadn’t looked at her, red eyes fixed on something distant. He reminded her of…herself. When she was younger and feeling too much and didn’t know how to handle it because she thought her feelings were too overwhelming for anyone to handle.

“I’m not family,” he said.

“Bullshit.”

His eyebrows twitched downward.

“You’ve known him since you were both, what, four? You’re like a brother to him,” Lily reasoned, hoping that would spur some reaction.

Gregorith said nothing, but his shoulders grew tighter.

“Thank you for sending those demons from Level Nine to the gate,” Lily tried gently. “They helped a lot.”

Tiny nod.

Lily ran through what she knew about Gregorith, which, in reality, wasn’t a lot. She knew he was a skilled manipulator because of Invaders . He had a quiet, dry kind of humor based off of the few interactions she’d had with him, and she knew what Bel alluded to in their conversations—that he was witty, serious, and lonely. His bloody, brutal work isolated him, even among demon-kind, and he cared about his few friends quite a bit in his own quiet way.

Lily sat, keeping a respectful, but not fearful, distance between them.

His eyes shifted a bit, tracking her movement out of the corner of his eye. “You should go inside,” he said finally.

Lily nodded, watching a pair of gleaming birds flit around the front garden. “He’s in surgery. It’s not like it’ll matter to him where I wait. This seems like as good a place to wait as any.”

Such a fucking liar. I want to be in there next to him more than I want a heartbeat.

But she couldn’t be next to him yet. And Gregorith needed a friend, even if she doubted she’d be his first, second, or third choice.

Gregorith’s tail twitched once before he stilled it. Then it twitched again.

Lily kept her tone soft and understanding, despite the edginess coiled in her belly. “I can go inside if you want me to, but it doesn’t feel right to just leave you out here. You care about him, and Bel wouldn’t want you sitting out here in exile. I don’t want you sitting out here alone, unless that’s really what you need. But as someone who’s used isolation as a self-harm technique, I’ll tell you that, even though it’s what you think you want, it’s not going to help anything.”

She let the words hang between them, waiting.

Gregorith’s breathing went a bit ragged as he stared into space.

Someone raced towards the house, crashing through the gate in a whirlwind of pink skin and white-to-black hair. Angel paused on the steps beside them, panting for breath, red eyes wide and scared.

“ Why are you out here !” she cried, holding her fists to her chest, then pressing her hands to her cheeks, eyes brimming with tears. “Please tell me he’s not dead. You’d be crying if he was dead.” She said the last part to Gregorith in a tone that was half reprimand and half plea.

“He’s in surgery,” Lily answered, when Gregorith didn’t.

“Oh, thank the Universe. We can work with that,” Angel said in a rush, bolting into the house.

Lily blinked after her, a bit whiplashed by the extreme differences in emotional reaction she’d encountered in the last few minutes.

She sat with Gregorith in silence for a while longer before he sighed.

“I’m not in exile. I just…” His voice caught, a sharp contrast to his usual effortlessly smooth cadence. He flexed one hand. “I heard some of the things that happened to him, when the healers were telling Lady Lilith. I know how much similar injuries hurt. I inflict them on evil souls because they are so painful. Knowing that, knowing that my friend is experiencing that level of pain without deserving it…” He shook his head tightly. “I felt… I don’t know what to do. How to handle it.”

Lily slowly lifted her hand to his shoulder, giving him every opportunity to signal that comfort would be unwelcome. His shoulder was surprisingly muscular given his leaner build, and she could feel the stress humming through him like an electrical current.

“There’s nothing any of us can do except wait,” she said gently, to herself as much as to him. “And we handle it together. As family, as friends, as people who care about one another and care about Bel.”

Gregorith’s breathing evened out a bit and he cleared his throat. “How are you holding up?” he asked.

“I’ve been screaming inside ever since I realized something was wrong, and I feel like I’m one wrong move away from completely losing it, but I can still be mostly rational. So, better than I expected, really.”

A beat of silence.

“I see why Bel loves you so much,” Gregorith said quietly.

The wave of emotion came crashing down, immediately sending hot tears down her cheeks.

“Oh fuck.” She choked, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes and trying to fucking breathe . “Yeah, I love him too,” she sobbed. “Gregorith, you asshole, I was doing so well.”

He patted her back, murmuring an apology and letting her cry.

It felt…good. Good to cry, to let it all out, like releasing pressure from a valve that had been dangerously over capacity. She couldn’t afford to lose it completely though, so she focused on taking deep breaths until the tears stopped.

“You can call me Greg,” he said. “I prefer Gregorith with most people, because it’s more professional, but my friends and people I’m close to call me Greg.”

And Lily was crying again.

* * *

She and Greg sat outside for another hour and watched the light start to dim before finally going inside. Lilith swept her up into a hug, followed by Angel, as well as Kasdeya and Orin, who had arrived with Lilith earlier.

In addition to a spate of already brutal injuries from previous stints on the battlefield, Bel had been crushed between the gegony’s jaws and savaged by its rows of sharp teeth, then clawed and stomped on as he lay on the battlefield. Unconscious, they thought. She hoped.

Heavy bruising, strained ligaments and muscles, broken ribs, wings shredded and broken, broken arm, broken collarbone, extreme lacerations over a significant portion of his body, a staggering amount of blood loss, and…a bruised tail.

Perhaps it was the stress, but after the list of horrifying injuries, the additional mention of a bruised tail had Lily exhaling sharply through her nose to hide a laugh.

Four of the healers that formed the medical team for the princes and other higher-ups in Hell worked on Bel with the extent of their skill. Another four were at Asmodeus’s house. At that news, Greg shook his head.

Lilith, pale-faced but composed, smiled. “Asmodeus is quite possibly the worst patient I’ve ever seen. At least this time he has a good reason for it. When I saw him earlier, he was trying to get up to aid his soldiers that are scouring the battlefield and making sure everyone is brought home. Even though he’s not as injured as Bel, unless he’s unconscious, his healers have their work cut out for them.”

“Not if Sariah is there,” Lily pointed out, proud of how steady her voice seemed. “She’ll keep him in line.”

Everyone had a little chuckle over that, even if it seemed a bit forced.

And then they waited.

And waited.

Lily called Sharkie and gave her the update. Lucifer had already gone home to sit with her and explained that there had been an emergency Lily needed to deal with, so Sharkie was concerned but not blindsided.

“But he’s not dead?” Sharkie clarified.

“No, bug, but he’s really, really hurt.”

“Hurt can heal, right? Like, it’s Bel , he’ll be okay. He’s huge. You’ll be okay, because you’re smart and strong. And Luci will be okay because he’s Luci and he has the whole Hell thing. We’ll be okay. Like, eventually. We just might need some fussing.”

If I only had a shred of the faith in myself that this child has in us to figure things out and deal with stuff, I would be unstoppable.

* * *

It was fully night by the time a healer came downstairs, gaunt-faced and looking like she hadn’t slept in a month, but relieved.

“He will live.”

Lily had to lock her knees to keep them from buckling in pure relief.

“We managed to satisfactorily repair his wings, all broken bones, and close up the worst lacerations, as well as replenish some of the blood volume. Most of the muscles and ligaments have been repaired; however, we, as well as the prince, ran out of safely usable energy. After a recovery period, we will return for a full, final healing, but we estimate that he will need to be in bed, or”—the healer smiled grudgingly—“at least resting for a week, minimum.”

“Oh, that’s going to go over well,” Orin muttered.

“But he’ll fully recover? Physically?” Lily asked, hand resting against her throat.

“Completely. He’ll have a few new scars, but physically, he will make a full recovery.” The healer’s eyes were knowing. Healing the body was the easy part. The mind and soul were different animals entirely. “He should sleep through the night and wake up at some point tomorrow. One of us will come by to check on him.”

They all said a discordant thank-you, then again when the other three healers—one of whom nearly collapsed with exhaustion—came down the stairs.

Greg’s sigh of relief seemed to come from his soul.

“Well,” Lilith said crisply, “it’s a big house. You are all more than welcome to stay…” Her eyes snagged on Lily. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t speak for you. Those months before the war, you were here as often as Bel.”

Lily’d had way too many shocking things happen in one day to process that statement, so she just waved her hand. “It’s fine. Please feel welcome to stay. It is a big house.” She smiled at Lilith, who returned it softly. Now that the urgency had faded, a trickle of guilt for her insistence that she be one of the first people notified when they found Bel wormed through her. “May I go up and see him, or would you like to?”

Lilith settled her arm over Lily’s shoulders, the scent of her perfume bright and clean. “He’s my son, but your love. Together?”

They climbed the stairs in silence, heading down the familiar hall to Bel’s room. She didn’t bother with a dramatic pause before opening the door. Dramatic pauses were for people with different priorities. She hadn’t seen Bel in more than two and a half months, and he’d just almost died on her. She was getting through that door. Immediately.

The healers had propped him up on his side with pillows so that his wings could rest comfortably behind him and give them easy access to the splayed expanse. He was shirtless, the sheets pushed down to his waist, and completely passed out. His whole body seemed leaner, his muscles standing out in sharper relief, and even in the dimming light, Lily could see the mottles and ridges of bruises and mostly healed gashes.

His face—oh, how she’d missed that face. The rugged, rough-hewn features, his little chin spikes, the broad sweep of his cheekbone, the point of his ear, the scar through his eyebrow that now had companions on his cheek and nose. She watched his chest rise and fall. Once. Again.

He was alive .

Just being in the same room made breathing easier. Made everything seem a little more bearable.

Lilith approached the bed and brushed a hand over Bel’s slightly damp hair, pushing it away from his face—they must’ve washed it, Lily realized—before silently sitting on the edge of the bed, a strangely vulnerable expression on her regal features.

Lily waited for her to say something, but she remained silent, watching her son, soaking in the fact that he was still breathing. Finally, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple. Lily could see it, like a vision from the past, how Lilith must have tucked little boy Bel into bed after one of his rambunctious days and kissed him good night just like that.

Lilith walked towards where Lily waited by the door, taking her hands and dipping to kiss Lily’s forehead. She squeezed her hands lightly, then closed the door behind her.

Lily sucked in a deep breath, held it, and let it go. The cadence of his breathing was as familiar as her own. Every fiber of her being wanted to curl against him and listen to his steady heartbeat, bask in his warm scent, his quiet strength. Hold him. Take the pain away. Take the awful memories away.

She kicked her boots off before she even got close to the bed. Then she stripped down to her T-shirt and underwear, lifted the sheet, and slid in, careful not to disturb him, even though the bed was massive. She lay an arm’s length away, facing him, tucking one of the many spare pillows against her chest so that she would cuddle it and not his healing body. Her hand slid over the cool sheets towards his, heat radiating off him like it always did. It made her want to cry.

Here. Alive.

Her fingertips brushed over the back of his broad hand, and a tear leaked free. She could hold his hand. That was safe. That wouldn’t hurt him.

She curled her hand over his and simply lay there, soaking in every detail of his face, how grumpy he looked when he slept, the cadence of his breathing, and letting it lull her to sleep.

* * *

Something woke her up in the middle of the night. Her hand still curled over his, and Bel lay in the same position, breathing the same deep breaths. It took her a moment to realize what had woken her up so suddenly.

Something warm tightened around her calf.

His tail. Firm and unyielding.