Chapter 27

CHAPTER27

Lilith drew up short, her brow furrowing. “I beg your pardon?”

Enaia, Thamuz, and Destatur all became very, very still.

Crap.

My pulse racing, I scrambled around for words. Too late to take it back now. I’d have to plow forward. “It’s just…I mean…” I flailed and grimaced. “You—you seem like a nice person. You’re kind, and gentle, you appear to have a full range of human emotions—”

Lilith raised a brow.

Shit, shit, shit.

“What I mean to say is, you have a good heart. You’re compassionate and considerate. And Lucifer is…”

“None of those things?”

If I grimaced any longer, my face would probably get stuck that way. “Yeah?”

“He’s different with me.” She picked a grape from a plate and ate it.

I didn’t dare say anything into the silence that followed while she chewed, sensing that I should wait.

“He wasn’t always like that,” Lilith eventually said quietly.

I barely even breathed, just stared at her in wary fascination while a thread of something dark and chilling inside me wormed its way to the surface.

“When we first met…” Her voice trailed off, her gaze becoming unfocused. “It’s been so long. There are many things I don’t remember, but I do recall those first years. He was different then. I was, too. So much younger, with untamed wildness in our hearts. Eternity…” She sighed. “Eternity has a way of grinding you down. Even more so in a place like this.” The brilliant brown of her eyes met my gaze. “When we settled here, and he had to establish his rule, enforce his position—and mine—it took a lot out of him. There were parts of him he had to harden, others he had to break. Hell is an unkind place for those with soft hearts. He did what he had to do to survive…to make sure I survived.”

I flinched, and that subtle thread of ice-cold darkness spread inside me, reminding me of something I couldn’t quite name yet.

Her eyes downcast, she exhaled softly. “Though it is true that who he has become, by choice and necessity, is so different now from who he used to be that the earliest version of me, from the beginning of our courtship, might not even recognize him today. For the longest time, I hadn’t realized how much he’d changed, how much I’d changed. It feels like I’ve been in a stupor for many, many years, grown numb to petty cruelties and malignity. What is the saying among humans?” She tilted her head, her face thoughtful. “About a frog in boiling water?”

I cleared my throat. “When you throw a frog into a pot with boiling water, it will jump out. But when you put it into a pot with tepid water and gradually increase the heat until boiling, the frog will not realize the danger and will be cooked alive.”

Her smile was sad. “Yes. It is like that.”

Damn. I shivered despite myself, that unnamed fear within me growing claws and teeth.

“But I am numb no more. Thanks to you.”

I looked at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“When I saw you at the Fall Festival…something changed. It was as if I woke up from a long dream. I hadn’t realized how calcified parts of me had become until seeing you made me remember how I used to be.”

I stared at her in disbelief. I had somehow helped Lilith reconnect with her humanity? “Is it the clumsiness? I have a hard time imagining you were ever clumsy. You are grace personified.”

Lilith laughed softly. “It is just this.” She nodded at me. “Your spirit. Your spontaneity.”

Spontaneity? More like missing a verbal filter.

“Your heart.” She gave me a warm smile. “All of it helped me remember and find a way back to parts of myself I’d forgotten about.”

I shifted around on my cushion, feeling a bit self-conscious. I didn’t truly believe that I’d done anything to cause such a massive mind shift in Lilith. More likely, she’d already been on the verge of a big change anyhow, and I’d just happened to trigger it maybe.

“I used to…” Lilith frowned, her eyes darkening. “I used to be much more present. I’d speak up more. I became complacent to suffering, much as he has developed a taste for it. Not with me.” A wistful smile. “Never with me. But toward others…” She shrugged. “There are few who are now privileged to witness what remains of his capacity to love, who get to see a side of him he has all but excised from his persona.”

Heart in my throat, I waited a beat, then ventured, “Like Naamah?”

Lilith nodded. “Just so.”

Remembering those letter drafts, I wanted to fish for some more information, but I had to be careful about it. “He really cares about her, doesn’t he? It almost seems obsessive... He gets extremely tense whenever she’s brought up.”

Lilith shook her head. “He feels guilty.”

I raised both brows. “Why?”

A mournful sigh. “Because he cannot heal her.” At my stare, she elaborated, “All his power, all his might…useless in the face of what ails her. Can you imagine? Being second only to God, the ability to alter reality itself at your fingertips, yet you cannot give your daughter peace. Living makes her suffer, yet you cannot let her die.”

I felt a pinch in my heart. “He really can’t help her? I thought demons could heal all manner of wounds and diseases.”

“Of the body. Repairing a broken mind is not in his power.”

Not in his power… Pieces clicked together in my head. Was this why he wanted to get her pardoned and have her ascend to Heaven? Because it was the only way to heal her mind? I wet my lips and dared to push forward a little. “So there’s no one else who could heal her?”

Lilith was quiet for a moment, her features hardening. “Could? Yes. Would? Doubtful.”

Oooh, the plot thickens.Did that mean Lucifer had already sent the letter about Naamah, and Heaven had declined?

“Who is it?” I asked cautiously, trying to angle for just a little more confirmation.

Lilith shook her head. “It is of no matter. A question unanswered, for it will never be asked. Some divides are too vast to bridge.”

Interesting. This sounded very much like Lucifer had never finished and sent the letter. I wondered if it was due to him struggling to find the right words—or whether it came down to him overcoming his ego and hatred of Heaven. That letter…it was tantamount to prostrating himself before his former brethren. A request that would reveal a vulnerability and which would put him deep into debt with Heaven.

Leverage.

Ah, didn’t it all come down to that? Favors and debts, knowing someone’s secrets and weaknesses, knowledge as power, and holding a deed done for someone’s benefit forever over their head.

And not only would granting Naamah a pardon and allowing her into Heaven mean that Lucifer owed them, it would also mean Heaven could wield Naamah’s continued wellbeing like a weapon against Lucifer. I’d spent enough time down here and among highly political and ruthless beings to know that even angels wouldn’t shy away from basically holding Lucifer’s favorite daughter hostage—not in the sense of a modern victim of terrorism, but more like an old-world, political hostage.

In ancient times, a country, empire or other power might receive children from nobles of another dominion with whom they’d either been at war or just signed a treaty. These children would live at court and receive a good education and basically were part of the nobility there, and their continued health and wellbeing was a security measure in order to ensure that the other party kept to the terms of the treaty or didn’t show new aggression toward the kingdom or empire that took care of their children.

Sending Naamah to Heaven would be very much like this.

Plus, they already had a deal with Lucifer about Lilith, which made up the basis for the truce between Heaven and Hell and forbade Lucifer from coming to Earth. If Lucifer asked for a pardon for Naamah and she got accepted into Heaven, it would throw everything out of balance.

And maybe this was another reason he hadn’t sent the letter yet? This was about a lot more than just her mental health.

A knock on the door interrupted my musing.

“Come in,” Lilith called out.

“Apologies, Your Grace,” a demon said, poking her head inside. “If I may have a word with you?”

“Can this wait?”

“I’m afraid not. It’s an urgent matter, but it will only take a minute of your time.”

Lilith sighed and faced me. “There is always someone or something requiring my attention. Excuse me, I will be back in a moment.”

“Of course. No problem.” I inclined my head.

When the door closed behind Lilith, I stared awkwardly at the three demons remaining in the room with me.

Destatur’s gaze lay heavy on me. “Did you enjoy the meal?”

My brain couldn’t decide between “It was great” and “It was awesome,” so naturally, what came out was, “It was gruesome!”

With a grimace, I corrected, “I mean, yes. I enjoyed it.”

A small smile played about Destatur’s lips. Leaning forward over the still packed table, she said with a note of urgency in her voice, “I’ve been meaning to tell you—thank you for being our lady’s friend.”

I blinked and drew back, stumped.

“Your company is good for her,” Destatur continued. “I’ve been at her side for a long time now, and I can’t remember seeing her this…awake and happy. Spending time with you has invigorated her. What she told you earlier is true. You’ve started uncovering parts of her that have been buried for too long.”

I didn’t even know what to say to that. I shifted on my cushion again, utterly uncomfortable by this unexpected—and in my opinion, unearned—praise.

“Every time you talk about Earth,” Destatur went on, “our lady lights up. It gives her new life.” She made a pause, glanced at the door and then back at me. “And I think you should suggest that she visit Earth with you.”

“Me?” My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

“Yes, you.” Destatur gave a firm nod. “I think it would be good for her. She hasn’t been to visit in a long time, and I believe she would benefit from the experience.” When I opened my mouth to protest, she shook her head. “In the past, we used to ask her if she wanted to go every now and then. She refused every time, but she seemed conflicted. I don’t think she stays here because she doesn’t truly want to go, more likely she has been too stuck in her rut to make the change. Through your friendship with her, you have the potential to give her the nudge she needs to visit Earth again. She favors you and values your opinion and insight. You are exactly the guide she needs to return to Earth after so much time away.”

“I—I don’t know…”

“You have a unique understanding of what it’s like to live as a human on Earth. Your first-hand knowledge means you can explain and guide her on her visit much better than we could. If anyone can convince her that it’s a good idea to go to Earth, it’s you.”

I bit my lip, glancing at the door.

“Please,” Destatur said and reached over the table to grasp my hand. “My lady needs this. You heard her earlier. She’s been drowning down here. This will be good for her, and you’re the right person to make her see it.”

Worry and doubt crowded my mind, my heart. Something niggled at me beneath my thoughts.

“She has shown you so much kindness,” Destatur said softly. “Will you not do this one thing for her?”

Goddammit. That did it. I exhaled roughly. “Okay.”

The smile on Destatur’s face lit up her eyes. “Thank you. You truly have a gracious heart.”

As if on cue, the door opened and Lilith came back inside.

“Now,” she said, settling back on the cushion, “let’s have some dessert. Which one is your favorite?”

I peered at the selection of cakes and pastries and then picked up a slice of carrot cake. “This here,” I said with a smile.

Her expression intrigued, Lilith took a slice for herself and ate a bite. The next second, her eyes rolled back, and she uttered a moan of pure food satisfaction. “I’ve never had this before,” she murmured. “It’s divine.”

I grinned at her, then threw a glance at Destatur. She gave me a subtle nod.

Clearing my throat, I launched my proposition. “Um, Your Grace. I was thinking…I would love to show you Earth. Not just through movies or my stories, but with a…visit.”

Lilith stopped eating and looked at me, her graceful brows drawing closer together.

“I know that you haven’t been in while,” I hastened to say. “And I remember what you said about why. But I think…I think this would be good for you. Maybe…maybe the change that my presence here has started in you will be supported by visiting Earth—with me.”

“I am not sure that is a good idea.” Lilith looked troubled, but there was also a spark of something in her eyes. The glimmer of a fire banked for too long, belying her words.

“I will be there with you,” I said. “I can show you Earth as I know it, as I’ve experienced it. It’s one thing to watch a movie and see all the new things humans have come up with over the past centuries, but it’s another to stand between the skyscrapers of a big city and see how light and shadow play between buildings of steel and glass that people from thousands of years ago could only have dreamed of. To hear the noises of the city and see the people rushing by. There’s no better way to experience the vibrancy of humanity, to feel the richness of modern life.”

That glimmer in her eyes grew. Tentatively, she said, “One of our portals here opens to New York City.” Quietly, but with a note of eagerness in her voice, she added, “I have thought about visiting there.”

“New York!” I exclaimed. “That’s perfect. I’ve actually been there.”

It had been the summer after I’d graduated high school, when my aunt had invited me to stay with her for a few weeks. She worked and lived in Philadelphia, which was only one and a half hours away from NYC, so of course I went there several times while my aunt was working during the day.

Growing up, I’d seen so many movies and TV shows set in New York that it felt like I knew this city before ever having been there. Actually stepping foot in it was a tad like coming home, in a weird way. Even though I’d chosen not to move there for my studies or job—I’d wanted to be closer to my mom’s—the city would always hold a special place in my heart.

And thinking of my mom…

“We can go visit New York together,” I said to Lilith, “and I can show you around there for a bit, but I can’t make it a full day. I want to go see my mom, too, because—” I broke off and swallowed the sudden sharp spike of anticipatory grief that shot up from the depths of my soul where I’d stuffed it for the time being because the past few days and weeks had been so chaotic and overwhelming that I’d had no resources to deal with all it entailed. “She’s dying and I need to visit her while I still can,” I finished, my voice husky.

“Oh,” Lilith said, her eyes darkening. “I am so sorry, Zoe. I didn’t know.”

I shrugged and blinked fast, trying to clear my eyes of the moisture pooling there.

“There is no rush.” Lilith reached over the table and squeezed my hand. “We can wait to go until you have made the most of the time you have left with her.”

The burning in my eyes and throat increased. “No.” I shook my head. “It’s fine. Just sitting with her for an hour or two will be enough for a visit.”

Anything more than that, and it would grind me down until I couldn’t breathe through the impending grief hovering above me. Anything longer would feel like holding a wake for her while she was still alive, and the thought made me want to sob.

I’d had people I cared about taken from me suddenly, without warning—like my grandfather, who’d died of a heart attack—and the shock of it, the abrupt onset of grief after the initial numbness would easily keel me over for a while. Back then, I’d thought that losing someone suddenly was surely worse than when you’d been warned about their death, that when your loved one slowly died of a disease, for example, you’d be…more prepared for the inevitable end.

But when my grandmother had died from cancer a few years later, I’d learned the truth—that neither option was the easier one. As I’d watched my nana suffer through chemo, only to be told—much like my mom now—that her cancer had come back and was now inoperable and too far progressed, I’d understood that knowing someone was going to die was its own method of torture. The knowledge that time was scarce, that every minute spent in the other’s company was suddenly immensely valuable, and at the same time your human mind and heart couldn’t live minutes and days as if savoring every last breath…it could break something fragile in you.

It was incredibly hard to be with a loved one whose death was imminent, and not already mourn their passing while they were still alive. A constant struggle to keep up good cheer to make the most of the remaining time, to make a few last happy memories and not more sad ones—because when it was all over, you wouldn’t want to look back and know that your last moments with them were already tainted by grief.

But it’s an impossible fight. Our brains just don’t work that way. Same thing with the mantra “live every moment as if it were your last.” Nobody can live that way. It’s exhausting. We’re not made for it, and yet we keep striving for that impossible, constant enjoyment.

So, inevitably, when you spent time with a dying loved one, anticipatory grief would intrude, and then you’d feel shitty for letting it.

Back then, with my grandmother, I didn’t have a name for the pain that came before a loved one’s passing. Later, I’d read about someone explaining about anticipatory grief, and that it was like mourning them twice, and that was just so apt.

So I shook my head now, giving Lilith a sad smile and said, “Seeing my mom for a little bit is enough to keep her in my heart.”

Lilith inclined her head. “All right.”

“The visit will have to wait until sometime next week, though. It’s only been about two and a half weeks since I was last on Earth, and I need to make sure that the connection between my mind and body won’t be jeopardized.”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“Let’s set a date,” Destatur said. “We’ll need to make some preparations ahead of time so that everything can run smoothly for your first visit back to Earth after such a long time, Your Grace. We’ll make sure that your trip will be enjoyable and safe.”

Lilith nodded again, and we settled on a day and time I’d come to the palace again to escort her to Earth.

I was really going to do this. Play tour guide to Lilith, the first human woman, Lucifer’s most beloved.

Life truly took the weirdest turns.

We finished our lunch, and then it was time for me to go home. It felt strange, almost like I’d had a nice sleepover with a friend, rather than having been voluntarily psychologically tortured and then saved.

Weird turns, indeed.

“I know the start of your stay here was an awful one,” Lilith said as she led me through a hallway, “but I do hope you enjoyed the end. I appreciated your presence here.” She came to a stop in front of a nondescript, unremarkable door and turned to me. “And I dare hope you’ll choose to come visit me again, under more auspicious beginnings.”

“Of course. And I’ll be back next week for our trip to Earth.”

Lilith inclined her head. “May it be the first of many more.”

That was probably the closest an ancient being like Lilith could come to saying, “I’m so excited!”

I gave her a genuine smile. “I can’t wait.”

“Your escort home is waiting for you just through here.” She gestured at the door. “I shall see you next week.”

“Thank you.”

When I made as if to bow—remember your protocol, Zoe!—she stopped me with a hand on my shoulder and instead leaned in and kissed me on each cheek.

“Friends don’t bow,” she said as she drew back.

I stood frozen and sans response, because I was too hung up on the fact I’d managed not to make this awkward. This type of greeting/goodbye was fraught with clumsy pitfalls for me. I still remembered in excruciating detail that one time back in high school when the new French exchange student had greeted everyone with kisses on the cheeks, and when it was my turn, I’d suffered from a momentary lapse in coordination and hadn’t known which cheek to present/go for first.

That was the one and only time I’d ever kissed a girl on the mouth. Accidentally, to boot.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty, but doing an unplanned full lip-lock with a girl I didn’t know in front of my entire class as the inadvertent first foray into a non-heterosexual exploration really wasn’t the best look for a sixteen-year-old.

Needless to say, the French girl had avoided me for the rest of the year.

Yeah, making friends was not my forte.

I was made friends, by those with more social grace than me. See Lilith, Exhibit D (A-C were Taylor, Caleb, and Hekesha, respectively. Yes, even grumpy Hekesha had shown more initiative with befriending me than I had shown her. Oh, and Azmodea and Mammon didn’t count—they were family).

“Okay,” I now said with a wobbly smile. “Friends.”

With a nod, Lilith opened the door, and I wondered about whoever it was that would fly me back home. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to being carried in an unavoidably close hold by a strange demon for a longer stretch of time, and the flight home wasn’t exactly short. Eh, the important thing was to get home.

The door led onto a large balcony without a railing, which made it a convenient platform to land on or take flight from. I had a brief second of relief that I wouldn’t have to walk through the Hall of Horrors toward the main entrance and exit of the palace again—before I recognized the figure silhouetted against the churning, lightning-streaked sky beyond, and pure joy erased all other thought or feeling.

“Azazel,” I gasped.