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  “I did. I did. Because God commanded it. I always do what He wants me to. I always make it happen. Whatever it is that He wants done, I get that shit done. And I understand. The greater good and all that, but fuck.” She put her hand to her diaphragm as it got harder for her to breathe.

  He held her closer, rubbing her arm, tears in his eyes now, as well. She made so much more sense to him now as a person. The weight of what God put on her, the responsibility, and the sacrifice. The abusive parents and traumatic childhood. He was amazed she hadn’t fallen apart before now.

  She cried into his chest for a few minutes, eventually calming down enough to have the hard part of the conversation. “There’s more.” She sat back, looking him in the eye, watching his expressions carefully, afraid of how he’d react. “The thing God wanted Cam to do,” She paused, taking a shaky breath. “Was to kill Cain.”

  Wyatt’s eyes grew wide, moving from his sister to the bedroom door where Allydia slept. “Cain killed him?”

  “No, not exactly. Anything physically harmful that happens to Cain happens to whoever inflicted the damage times seven. God’s Wrath is the only thing strong enough to kill him permanently, so when Cam killed Cain, he died, too.”

  “Oh, shit.” He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how she’s gonna feel about that.”

  “Relieved, I imagine. He was a shit father before he kidnapped her kids, called her a monster, and threatened to murder her. He’s the reason she got all paranoid and hired a bunch of spies. She was scared he was coming after her.”

  “Then, why did you think I’d hate you? If you were doing what God forced you to and Allydia won’t be hurt, why would I be angry?”

  “Not about Cain. About the party.”

  He tilted his head. “What party?”

  “In ninety-seven. Crystal something-or-other’s birthday. East forty-eighth street.”

  “Crystal Bowers. I remember that. Well, bits and pieces. I got pretty wasted that night.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She sniffed again as more tears threatened to come.

  “For what?”

  “I was there. I saw you with that girl, standing by the speaker, beer in your hand. I watched you take her into a room and close the door. I knew who you were and I didn’t say anything.”

  He went quiet, his expression somber, his eyes fixed on hers.

  “I had a problem back then. I couldn’t always handle the voices. Everyone’s thoughts and feelings. It was a lot. And after my parents killed Ada, my girlfriend, my issue got out of control. I was, um,” She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She needed to see his reaction. “I was on heroin.”

  His features softened and he looked down at his hands in his lap.

  “That night, I shot up more than a normal person would’ve been able to take. I was limp on the couch. I could barely make words. I couldn’t hear your thoughts or feel your feelings, but I knew you were my brother. I didn’t know your human name, but I was sure that you were Barachiel, Protector of Humanity, Leader of the Guardians, Angel of Blessings. I knew it and I just lay there, wallowing in my own bullshit. I’m so sorry, B. If I had known what would happen--”

  “But, you didn’t, did you?” He looked her in the eyes again. “You couldn’t have. Not unless He wanted you to.”

  “I was stoned. I shouldn’t have been. I should have been more responsible. I should have taken it more seriously.”

  “Taken what more seriously?”

  “Who I am.”

  They were quiet for a moment while Wyatt gathered his thoughts. She’d expected him to be angry, but he wasn’t. All she could feel him feeling for her was love and pity.

  “I’m not mad at you, Gabriel. You were a kid with maybe the worst parents of all time plus everyone in your head. I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

  She brushed away a final tear. “You don’t hate me.”

  “No,” he smiled. “Did I ever tell you how I met my wife?”

  She knew the story, given that she knew everything about him as soon as she set eyes on him at his therapist’s office a few years before, but she shook her head, knowing that he wanted to tell it.

  “On nine-eleven, I was at my college’s counselor’s office not because I was upset about what had happened, but because I was seeing the ghosts of people that were killed. I thought I was having a meltdown. It was the worst ‘hallucination’ I’d ever had. So I was sitting there, waiting my turn, people crying all around me, and in walks Annie, calm as can be, carrying a twenty-four pack of water in her hands and a tote bag full of brownies she’d made over her shoulder. She gave everyone in the office a brownie and a bottle and asked if they were okay. She hugged people she’d never met and talked to them until they relaxed. She got to me last, gave me two brownies. Said I looked like I needed them more than anyone else there. She sat with me for two hours talking about everything and nothing. She made me laugh. She made me forget for a while that I was crazy. By the time it was my turn to see the counselor, the ghosts were gone and I felt fine. I think I fell in love with her right there.” He tilted his head to make sure she was paying attention before he continued. “If you had told me who I was, what I was, I would have avoided two decades of mental illness and everything that went with it. But, I also would never have been in that counselor’s office. I wouldn’t have met Annie. I wouldn’t have had Will.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Do you think it would have been better that way? I know how much losing them hurt you.”

  “No,” he insisted. “I would rather feel the pain of losing them every day than go through my entire life never having loved them. So, I don’t blame you for ignoring me at that party. Whether it was God’s will or just dumb luck, it doesn’t matter. I’m grateful to have had them. No matter what happened, I know that they loved me.”

  She looked toward the bedroom door and back at him. “You know, Dia loves you, too. Hard.”

  “Does she?”

  “Hard. Girl is all in. I haven’t seen her like this ever. And, me and Uriel love you. And Sinclair. Not in the same gag-inducing way the vampire Queen does, but we do.”

  He laughed.

  “So, don’t go thinking there aren’t people that care about you. And I don’t give a fuck what happens from now until my feathery ass is back in Heaven, don’t you even think about committing suicide again. My heart can’t take it.”

  “I won’t, I swear,” he chuckled.

  “Good. Is it okay if I take a nap on your couch? I’m stupid tired.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll get you a pillow.” He went to the hall closet, taking out a spare pillow and throw blanket. He set the pillow on one end of the couch and she immediately dropped her head onto it, curling up in the fetal position as he covered her with the blanket.

  “Thanks, B. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” He went back to the island and finished his coffee, watching his sister sleep, having a new appreciation for her now that he knew what she’d been through. He’d always thought Annie was the strongest person he’d ever known, but he was wrong. Gabriel was.

  Chapter 3

  “Daddy,” the small voice said, waking Malik from a dead sleep. “Daddy, wake up.” He looked to his right and saw Valerie lying there, eyes closed, still asleep. “Daddy!” He jumped, finally seeing the girl at the side of the bed. She looked to be three or four years old, long, curly hair flowing down her back, wearing one of his wife’s tee-shirts as a nightgown.

  “What the…” He sat up, rubbing his eyes and turning on the light.

  “Daddy, can you make eggs for breakfast?” the girl asked sweetly.

  He stared, mouth agape. It took him several seconds to come to terms with who she was as it was just the night before that she’d taken her first steps. “Sinclair?”

  She nodded. “Scrambled. And strawberries? Strawberries are my favorite.”

  “Um, sure, baby. Just let me get woken up. I’ll be right there.”

  “Okay. Hurry, though.
” Her pupils dilated completely causing Malik’s heart to jump to his throat. “I’m hungry.” She skipped out of the room leaving him in a cold sweat. He looked back at a still sleeping Valerie, his heart thumping. She was oblivious and he was petrified.

  “Mommy!” Sinclair cheered as Valerie entered the living room, Malik following closely behind.

  “Holy shit,” the mother muttered under her breath. The girl ran to her, putting her arms up to be held. Valerie complied, picking her up and carrying her on her hip to the dining table. “Looks like I’m gonna have to go shopping. You’ve outgrown all your clothes!”

  Sinclair laughed.

  “You’ll need a big girl bed, too. Daddy said you want eggs for breakfast?”

  “Yeah! And strawberries. And orange juice. And toast!”

  “Oh! Okay, well, you heard her,” she said to Malik who had already begun work in the kitchen. She turned her attention back to her daughter as she got her sat in a chair. “We’ll have to get shoes and barrettes and headbands. Maybe after breakfast, we can braid your hair, how’s that sound?”

  “Yay!” the child beamed, clapping her hands and bouncing in her seat. “Can we also get some crayons? I really wanna draw.”

  “Of course! Crayons, finger paint, construction paper, all that stuff.”

  “Thank you, Mommy!”

  Malik set plates in front of them and went back to the kitchen for the juice. As he poured, he glanced over at the table, watching anxiously as they ate. Maybe he’d been seeing things. It was early and he’d just woken up. But he knew what he saw. Her eyes had gone black. He was sure. According to his wife, that’s something vampires did when they were about to bite someone. Had Sinclair been threatening him? Or was she just too young to control her instincts? Either way, between that and the hyper-fast aging, he was freaked out. Get it together, he thought, placing the cups in front of his wife and daughter. This is your new normal. Learn to live with it.

  Chapter 4

  “Well, that’s good,” Gabriel muttered as she peeked her head into Lucifer’s room and found it empty. The sheets were stained with blood, but the bed was unoccupied, which meant that he’d recovered from the injuries he’d received during his bout with Cain. She shuffled to the kitchen, hoping there were some cookies left in the pantry, but as she passed the living room, she caught a glimpse of Lucifer on her balcony and he wasn’t alone.

  “What in the actual fuck?” she snapped as she went to meet him. On the floor between them lay what looked like a half-reanimated corpse, bloated, worms crawling out of its nose, moaning in anguish.

  “Surprise!” Lucifer gleaned, clearly proud of himself. “It’s our nephew. Well, it will be, once you heal his body. In retrospect, it may have been kinder to acquire him a fresh one, but in my excitement, I shoved his soul right back into the original. Must be unbearably painful.”

  “Jesus, Lucifer.” She covered her mouth at the stench coming from the body. “He would have been reincarnated.” She held her hand out, using her telekinesis to pull embalming fluid, muddy water, worms, and insects from the boy’s stomach and lungs. He groaned, convulsing as the thread that had been keeping his eyes sewn shut broke, his milky eyes bulging.

  “Yes, eventually, long after you all died and had gone back home. Losing Mariana has given me a new appreciation for human grief. Barachiel needs his son back now. Besides, don’t you find it odd that the boy existed at all?”

  “This is taking forever,” she huffed as more and more sludge came seeping out of Will’s nose and mouth.

  “Don’t you see? After my skirmish with Cain, I should have gone back to Hell, but I landed in Purgatory. Purgatory. I have no human soul. There was no reason for me to have ended up there. There’s no explanation other than God made it so. He must want Will alive. Think about it, sister. There’s no way our brother should have been able to procreate unless our Father wanted him to.”

  She sighed as the last of the fluid drained from Will’s body. She placed her hands on his head and heart, his skin glowing from the inside at the touch. After a few moments, his appearance changed from a swollen, green, and gray zombie to the young man Gabriel had seen in Wyatt’s memories. His eyes cleared, returning to their natural, grayish hue and color returned to his cheeks. He grasped her wrist, looking up at her in terror.

  “You’re all right,” she assured him, helping him to sit up.

  As he acclimated to his senses, he opened his mouth to speak. At first, only scratchy, broken syllables escaped his throat, but after a few seconds, words finally came. “Au-- Aunt Gabriel?”

  She nodded, tears forming in her eyes.

  “What-- How?”

  “My doing,” Lucifer chirped.

  He turned his head to see his uncle standing behind him. On instinct, he heaved a bolt of lightning in his direction. Lucifer stepped aside to avoid getting hit.

  “Feisty as ever, I see.”

  “Yo,” Gabriel lectured, taking Will’s hand and resting it by his side. “None of that.”

  He shifted his gaze back to her. “I was dead, wasn’t I?”

  “Yes,” Lucifer told him. “It was unsightly. Very grim. I really should have taken a photograph.”

  Gabriel shot him a look before answering. “You were, but Lucifer brought you back.”

  “Is he stupid?”

  “Kind of.” She helped him up, his legs wobbling like a newborn deer as he stood.

  “I resent that,” Lucifer piped. “Just because you don’t know why he was born, doesn’t mean there isn’t a reason.”

  “You have no idea what I know.”

  “I shouldn’t be here,” Will said, eyeing the railing. “After what I did, I don’t deserve to--”

  “What is with you people wanting to die?” Gabriel asked. “Seriously, is it something in your genes? Honestly. I have been through a lot of shit and I have never once wanted to fling myself from a building. I’m a trash can and I still love myself.”

  “Not the worst way to go,” Lucifer interjected. “Certainly less painful than slicing open your wrists with a piece of broken glass. Then again, your father always has been a bit of a drama queen.”

  Will formed a ball of electricity in his hand as he stared his uncle down. “My father was a fucking saint. If I hear you disrespecting him again, I swear to God.”

  “He’s alive,” Gabriel told him.

  The energy in his hand dissipated as his features softened. “What?”

  “Yeah, Dia drinking so much of his blood when they first hooked up made him basically immortal. It’s a whole thing.”

  “Is he,” he stopped, choking back tears. “Is he okay?”

  “Eh, better than he was.”

  “Where is he?”

  “At his dad’s place.”

  “I want to see him. I have to tell him I’m sorry. I have to--” He stumbled as he tried to take a step. Gabriel caught him and helped him walk inside.

  “All right, kid. I’ll take you to him. Shower first, though. You’re covered in all manner of crap and you smell like a dumpster.”

  He nodded.

  “You can borrow some of your uncle’s clothes until we get you some new ones, can’t he?”

  “Of course,” Lucifer agreed. “What’s mine is yours. As long as I can be there when we surprise Barachiel.”

  “Yes, fine.” She opened the door to the hall bathroom and took Will’s face in her hands. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Yeah. I love you, too.”

  “Good. So don’t make me regret not letting you yeet yourself into traffic, okay?”

  He nodded.

  She brushed away a tear and hugged him. “I missed you.”

  He went into the bathroom and closed the door. When she heard the water running, Gabriel went back to join her brother in the living room. “You are dumb as shit.”

  “What?” he chuckled.

  She pointed out onto the mess on the floor of the balcony. “You’re cleaning that up.”

&n
bsp; Chapter 5

  As night fell, Allydia emerged from Wyatt’s bedroom already stunning in her leather pants and deep v-neck, cold-shoulder top. He wanted to scoop her up and take her right back to bed, but he couldn’t let himself get distracted. He had to tell her about her father and he wasn’t sure how she was going to take the news.

  “Hey,” he greeted as she sat next to him on the sofa. “You sleep okay?”

  “As well as could be expected, I suppose.”

  “How are you feeling about Navid and everything?”

  “All right. He’s safe and that’s what matters.”

  He rested his arm behind her on the back of the couch. “Gabriel was here today.”

  “I know. I can smell her on your furniture. Like camomile and candy bars.”

  He fought the urge to laugh. “Something happened. Your father--”

  “Are you hurt?” she fussed, looking him over.

  “No, I wasn’t there. But, baby, God’s Wrath was.”

  “Wrath? You mean fire and brimstone, Sodom and Gomorrah, The Wrath of God? The angel Camael?”

  “Yes.”

  She sat back and folded her arms. “I only met him once, in Hobah. Anger issues.”

  He placed a hand on her leg as he tried to find the words.

  She tucked her hair behind her ears and held his hand. “Cain is dead, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, baby, he is. I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head and put her fingers to his lips, a broken smile appearing on her otherwise solemn face. “I’m fine.”

  He kissed her hand. “Are you sure? I know what it’s like to lose--”

  “Our fathers were not the same. It’s sweet of you to worry, but you don’t have to. I spent centuries looking over my shoulder, afraid and hiding from him. The knowledge of his passing makes me feel,” she thought for a moment. “Well, similar to how I feel when I’m with you.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “How’s that?”