3. Lucifer

Diana's boyfriends had given me a headache on the best days, but now they were insufferable without her keeping them in line. She up and left with the least annoying one, too. Why couldn't she take Ares with her, so I didn't have to see him lumber about or cry like a baby while stuffing his face with potato chips?

Or Bash? All he did since she left was sulk, pick fights, and act like a petulant child. Azazel was too busy loathing himself and drowning in his own tears to do anything constructive, and Desmond was too emotionally unavailable to even let himself have feelings.

Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black. My thoughts took on Michael's voice, echoing through my brain unwelcomed and brutally truthful. Whenever I was at my wits end, I would hear Michael's voice guiding me…like a conscious. Ewww.

As the situation here became more difficult, I heard him more often. It was a cheap substitute compared to having him here in the flesh to offer me help. I had usually turned him down, but I missed seeing him and knowing he was close if I needed him. Knowing he was with Diana was equally frustrating and assuring. Aside from myself, there's no one I trusted with her safety more than him. He was the man I had entrusted my life to, even if he caused me unfathomable pain.

I missed him because I wanted him, despite how he had stunted my relationship with our daughter. Despite the fact that he never followed me to earth after I was disgraced. He put God's orders above our love, and that almost killed me. No matter how many times I tried to lose myself in someone else, I always found my way back to him. Before he left with the kids, we had fallen right back into old habits—late night trysts that ended in both of us hurting each other.

"We can't do this again," Michael breathed into my ear as I nipped and sucked along the column of his neck.

"Really?" I sassed him before delving my tongue into his hot mouth, exploring every bit of it and barely letting him have any air.

He pushed me off him, then switched our places, pushing me up against the wall. He threaded his fingers through my hair and pulled my face down so our eyes locked.

"We'll hurt each other like we always do," he lamented, even as he slotted our hard cocks together.

"Good thing I know you like pain," I growled as I picked him up, forcing him to wrap his legs around me as I carried him to my bed.

I shook my head, dislodging myself from the memory of our last time together. It took up entirely too much space in my mind. We always fell into a pattern both of us knew well. Fuck, push each other away, antagonize each other until we couldn't take it anymore, then repeat. Until he got injured in the fourth realm. I realized something while I sat in the infirmary with him, holding his hand as he recovered from his injuries. No matter how hard I tried to push him away, Michael and I were inevitable, meant to be in every way that mattered, severed soulbond or not. Because seeing him in that state reminded me that despite what happened between us, I loved him enough that I could find a way to make this work. Once he came home, we had to sit down and figure out where we would go from here, because I refused to continue on with him this way.

"I got them like you asked me to," Bash groused, breaking me from my inner thoughts as he threw himself in a chair across from me. I could feel his anger and resentment as it clouded the room. I wonder what's up his ass?

Bash crossed his arms, his ankle resting on his opposite knee. The remaining boyfriend brigade, as I'd taken to calling them, had been fighting amongst themselves since Diana and Mal left for their vacation. Most of the time, I didn't get involved, not caring enough to police them.

Even as Ares barged through my front door—swirling, pulsating fireball in hand—and levitated Bash out of his seat, I silently stayed in mine. Once they fought it out and established a new pecking order, things would hopefully calm down.

"You fucking prick! If you ever talk to him like that again, I'm going to kill you in the most painful ways on repeat until you beg me to stop!"

Ares threw the fireball at Bash, setting his clothing on fire and burning him. Desmond conjured some water to put it out, but like me, mostly stayed out of it. He had been distant, drinking himself into oblivion. I knew he was mad at everyone, including me, and however he dealt with it was his choice.

Bash's wounds healed almost instantly, and he snapped his fingers, replacing his signed suit with black joggers, a white Henley, and sneakers. He tried to get into Ares' mind, but I could tell it wasn't working.

Ah, fuck being neutral, this could be entertaining.

Try using geometrance magic to get through his mental defenses, I suggested to Bash, who's devious smirk at the idea brought a measure of joy to my heart. He was still my least favorite of Diana's boyfriends, but knowing he enjoyed inflicting pain and chaos as much as I did was enough justification to keep him around.

Ares dropped to his knees and held the sides of his head as he thrashed in pain. His teeth were gritted in pure rage as he death-glared Bash. Sweat started rolling down his forehead as he tilted his head toward Desmond slightly, who must have given him some kind of trick to block Bash's intrusion. His face relaxed a bit, and he was able to get back up on his feet. He formed a blue fireball, but when he threw it at Bash, it encapsulated him instead of burning him, like a barrier between him and the world.

Ares' manic laughter rang throughout the room, and I clapped. The show is getting better now. He touched the fire barrier, and Bash writhed in agony.

"Since you want to be a fucking bully and verbally abuse people, let's see if you can take your own medicine," the Greek god sneered. His voice adopted a deep, preternatural echo. "Diana never had a choice but to be with you, because you claimed her—without asking. If she had the choice, she wouldn't want a toxic mess like you. You couldn't even manage to make a relationship with your best friend and the nicest guy we know work, because you're selfish, narcissistic, and dumb as fuck."

"Says the psychotic jackass who was so scared of her leaving that he tried to trick her into getting knocked up—without asking. I guess you'd actually try to be a father to this one," Bash said with a derisive sneer.

I had asked Zeus about Ares and his children, because I didn't want Diana with a deadbeat dad. He explained that neither Aphrodite nor Hephaestus let him publicly claim them as his own. He did as much as he could for them as their uncle, and was involved in their childhood, but he wasn't allowed to see them after he was exiled. The situation was a sore spot for him, and I definitely knew how he felt—I wasn't permitted to see Diana for years and missed her childhood completely, spare glimpses from afar.

The whole room felt the weight of Bash's low blow, falling eerily quiet. The appliances stopped humming, and it seemed as if all the air was sucked out of the room. Ares' expressionless face spoke volumes—I'd never seen him not smiling, even when angry or bloodthirsty. The temperature in the room skyrocketed, and even after taking my suit jacket off, the sweltering heat was oppressive. Bash was sweating in his fire bubble, coughing from the dry, acrid air. Even Desmond frowned, his brows furrowed.

The door opened, and Azazel came in with a harried look on his face, fully aware of the chaos that had erupted.

"Ares, please let him go? He isn't worth it," he calmly asked.

"Fuck no, he won't get away with verbally abusing you or me. He needs to learn his place," Ares growled.

"Bash is who he is, Ares. Nothing will change that. But if we keep arguing amongst ourselves, we'll never be able to work together to bring her home." Azazel put his hand on Ares' arm, and they shared a meaningful look for several moments before Bash was set free from his bubble and dropped right onto the floor.

Bash glared at both men, then sat in his original chair and pointedly ignored everyone. Azazel didn't seem that bothered by it though. He and Ares must be mindlinked, because they were quietly staring at each other, not even noticing the others in the room.

"If you're all done squabbling, we have a new development to discuss," I announce. "I want us all to listen to the message from Michael a day after he, Diana, Mal, and O left again."

Waving my hand, I brought up the message bubble and played it. Michael's disembodied voice floated through the room, as if he was here with us.

Luci, Diana broke up with her men, except Mal. A messy break-up, too. She's taking some time away. O, Mal, and I will be with her, so she's safe. Will talk soon.

"Anyone notice anything interesting about the message?" I ask, giving them a chance to dust off their detective skills.

"The way he said ‘time'," Ares sighed. "We suspected that we can't find her anywhere because they're hiding in another time period."

"I'd put money on it. Diana's time travel ability is unknown—untested, unpracticed, and we have no clue what she's capable of doing with it," I explained. "She's risking some serious health and magical complications by staying out of her original time period this long."

"Okay, so what's new? We already know all of this." Desmond ran his hand through his fiery hair in irritation.

"I got a reply message from Azazel's friend Tempus," I replied, watching their faces lift with hope. "Azazel, you need to open it. He put an identity lock ward on it."

I passed the bubble to Ares, who passed it to Azazel. As soon as he touched the message bubble, it glowed a light shade of blue. He nonverbally willed it to play, and a deep, lilting voice filled the room.

"I'm finally back from my assignment. I'm concerned about how long Diana has been in other time periods and the impact that could have on the space-time continuum. The transfer of powerful people between time periods can weaken the barriers, like when you stretch woven fabric too much. Things can change drastically. We need to meet up before this blows up into a major timeline alteration."

"Can you contact him? Maybe we can use your and Diana's soulbound to locate her and he can take us to her?" Ares seemed so excited to find her that he was smoking from his ears. It was better than watching him sob as he demolished an entire ice cream gallon.

"Our mindlink is rusty, let me see if I can." Azazel closed his eyes, his face contorting in concentration.

After a minute, his face grew pale, and his eyebrows furrowed. Desmond took his hand, lending him some magic to boost his abilities. Ares took his other hand, and between the three of them, Zaz was able to make a connection.

"He said he can come here immediately, he just needs to know where we are."

"How do we know we can trust this guy?" Bash's question was legit, but I could feel his jealousy and anger clouding his judgment. "What if he gives our enemies our location?"

"He'd never do that. He's one of the most principled men I've ever met." He swings his gaze to me, waiting for my permission. "Lucifer?"

I nodded, and a few seconds later, a large, imposing man stood in the back of the room. He lumbered over everyone, even Desmond and Ares. His long black hair was tied in a bun, which showed off his hard jawline and prominent features. Dark olive skin complemented deep brown eyes and full lips. He wore modern black jeans and a sweater, but something about him seemed ancient. Beyond even the paranormal world. Although his magic was potent, it was gentle. Something told me that this man wasn't a fighter, but could hold his own if he had to.

"Thank you for meeting with us, Tempus," Azazel said as he walked toward the man. They shook hands, then the man wrapped Azazel in a hug so tight I heard the former's bones crack.

"I had to—your animaspeclu's absence from her own time period is concerning." His accent was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was every accent of the four realms and none of them at the same time.

"What does that word mean?" Desmond asked.

"My kind's word for soulmate. Or I guess a more direct translation is soul mirror, because two souls meant to be one are mirrors of each other."

Azazel's expression fell, but he schooled it with something neutral as he explained the situation in full to his friend. The others chimed in from time to time with more details.

"You need to extract her, immediately. Three and a half months is way too long for someone to be out of their own time period unless they're a Time Walker. She can do some serious damage if her magic is destabilized."

He dug through his pocket, and took out an old, worn ring. The metal was so tarnished, I couldn't even make out what kind it was. He held it in both hands, and blue, ethereal wisps of magic vibrated around it, until they were absorbed into the metal. The ring turned gold, and he gave it to Azazel.

"Put it on," Tempus instructed him.

Azazel slipped the ring on his middle finger. Nothing brilliant happened—no sparks or magical disturbances.

"I spelled this ring to afford you one trip to wherever your soulbond tells you to go, and one trip to your own time period. The ring is very dependent on energy—you need to command it clearly or it won't work." Tempus looked at each man, letting the information sink in.

"Okay…" Azazel ran his hand over the back of his neck in thought.

"To use your soulbond, you need to focus. Bring those who strengthen your magic and lift it up," Tempus suggested. "If Diana is open to it, I want to see her immediately for training. This gift is so powerful that if it's used incorrectly, it can devastate the realms… Change the course of time so profoundly that we'll never recover."

"On that ominous, terrifying note, when do we leave?" Bash asked, getting up from his chair.

"We don't. I'm taking Ares and Lucifer," Azazel corrected him. "Since the day Diana left, you've blamed me, and made me feel like shit about it. I can't be around you right now, because I need my magic at top performance to use my soulbond."

"You're seriously bringing Ares over me?" he scoffed.

"Yeah, he is, because instead of saying mean shit and making him feel bad, I've been there for him. I've tried to lift him up. All five of us have fucked up our relationship with her so far–none of us are perfect. Don't you dare make him feel bad about making this call." Ares scowled at Bash, daring him to say something.

Bash's horns sprouted from his head as his jaw tensed. "Fine. You better bring her home in one piece," he groused before storming off.

"Okay, gentlemen, let's make a plan," I said, before any of them could cause any more drama.

I swear, Shakespeare's company wasn't even this dramatic…