Elohim Read online

  “I’ve never done this before,” Wendy admitted, feeling shy as she brought the sheet up to her chin.

  “A chick?” Gabriel asked.

  Wendy laughed. “No, taken someone back to my place after just meeting them.”

  “Oh, well, to be fair, this isn’t your place so…record still intact.”

  They both giggled.

  “Do you do this a lot?”

  “Not a lot.”

  “You’re lying,” Wendy smirked.

  “I’m clean if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “It’s not. I’ve just never been someone’s one-night stand before. Not sure what the etiquette is. Do I offer you a beverage? Make you a snack? Pretend to sleep so you can sneak out to avoid an awkward conversation?”

  “Like this one?” Gabriel snickered, touching the woman’s cheek.

  Wendy grinned.

  “For the record, this isn’t a one-night stand for me. I like you.”

  “I like you, too.”

  “Good. So, you ready for round three? Or is it four?”

  “Already?”

  “I’m insatiable,” Gabriel teased.

  “Well, I already know that,” Wendy beamed, scooting closer to kiss her new playmate, running her hand down her body and slipping her fingers once more inside of her. Gabriel pulled her on top of her, holding her face in her hands as she kissed her hard. Wendy’s hair fell around her face, enveloping her in a mane of blond, the dim light of the bedside lamp filtering through, lighting up her face in a glowing halo. She was amazing. For the first time in decades, Gabriel was excited to get to know someone. She knew she’d have to leave as soon as she could get a flight, but she didn’t want to go. She was happy, an emotion mostly foreign to her. She lost herself in Wendy’s warm touch, her soft hair like silk against her skin. Her responsibilities were urgent and many, but for now, they’d just have to wait.

  Chapter 6

  Lucifer quietly entered Wyatt’s apartment, finding Valerie asleep on the living room sofa. “Not very diligent, are we?” he muttered to himself. “Uriel,” he whispered, nudging her awake.

  “Finally,” she complained. “Gabriel won’t answer her phone and the vampire’s staying away until she’s sure he’s stopped cutting himself, which he hasn’t. Every time that boy goes to the bathroom, I end up giving him a lecture about self-harm. I got all the knives and razors out of the house, so this motherfucker broke the mirror and used the shards to slit his wrists again. I can’t take it anymore. Can you talk some sense into him?”

  “I doubt it. I’m not his favorite person at the moment.”

  “Then tie his ass to his bed or some shit until he snaps out of it.”

  “Is that why you called me here? Brute force?”

  “You are God’s strongest or whatever. I’m exhausted and I’ve missed too much work already. Can you stay with him until Gabriel gets back from wherever the hell she is?”

  “I suppose,” he agreed, setting his duffel bag on the coffee table. “Where is the poor lamb?”

  “Locked in his room,” she said, pointing down the hall as she headed for the front door. “Don’t kill each other.”

  Lucifer waited until she’d gone to open his bag and remove a large bottle of whisky. He knocked on the bedroom door and when no answer came, he opened it, breaking the lock with minimal effort. He held the bottle inside, keeping his eyes averted. Wyatt took the offering and slammed the door back. The brothers sat on the floor on either side, Lucifer calm with his hands folded and Wyatt, drinking until his throat hurt.

  “I am sorry about your son, Barachiel.”

  Wyatt scoffed. “You would have killed him if I hadn’t.”

  “That’s true, and if you weren’t so stubborn, I could have spared you from the guilt you’re feeling now.”

  “Go away, Lucifer.”

  “Afraid I can’t. You’ve given our sister quite the fright and as angry with her as I am for revealing to you the events of that evening, she still deserves peace of mind.”

  “And what do I deserve?” Wyatt growled. “I’m pretty sure filicide gets you the death penalty in Indiana, except I can’t die.”

  Lucifer sighed, wishing there was something he could do to alleviate his brother’s suffering. “You only did what had to be done. You always do. It’s the burden of what you are. You deserve all the best things this world has to offer, as well as the next. It would serve you well to remember that.”

  “I deserve to burn.”

  “You gave that boy a chance, which is more than I would have done. Had he been my son, I would have slaughtered him in his crib the moment I learned of his existence.”

  “That’s fucked up.”

  “Yes, well, God’s will and all that.”

  The two were silent for a while before Wyatt leaned against the door and spoke again, his words slurred. “The only time I don’t want to die is when I’m dead.”

  His pain cut Lucifer like a knife. “It’s late. Get some rest, brother. I’ll be here.”

  Chapter 7

  “Phindi will have an update for you tomorrow,” the young vampire said. “Still no word on Hattie, but I’m happy to serve as your assistant for as long as you need me.”

  “Thank you, Hart,” Allydia replied, slumping in her seat in the throne room, her thoughts with Wyatt. “Tell me, have you ever taken a human lover? Since you became one of us, I mean.”

  “Not for more than a few days, Your Majesty. They’re frail and need constant tending to.”

  “So you ended things with your human consorts because they were weak?”

  “I didn’t break up with them so much as I ate them,” he confessed. “In my defense, men these days are delicious. Have you ever fed on a fruitarian? Like candy.”

  She smiled. “I have, actually. It’s been a while, though.”

  “Would you like me to send for one?”

  “Thank you, Hart. That would be delightful. I could use a little dessert.”

  “Right away, Your Majesty.” He snapped his fingers at the guard standing at the entrance to the room. The man nodded and hurried off. Hart went over his notes before again addressing his Queen. “I’ve chartered the planes, so that’s been handled. All the monthly expenses have been paid. There’s just one more order of business.”

  “What is it?”

  He took a deep breath and shifted his weight from one foot to another.

  “Hart,” she said, her patience wearing thin.

  “It’s Mason, Your Majesty. He’s stirring up trouble. Blaspheming. He’s saying…he’s telling people…”

  “Spit it out, Hart.”

  “He’s saying you’re not fit to lead. That you haven’t killed in years. That you’re soft.”

  She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, throwing her hair over her shoulder and clearing her throat.

  “Forgive me, my Queen.” He looked down at his platform boots and did his best to steady his breathing.

  “That’s all right.” She crossed her legs and sighed dismissively. “More often than not, someone has something negative to say. It’s not usually worth my time, but, ‘not fit to lead’? That’s treason.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Do you know what my punishment is for treason, Hart?”

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  She twirled her hair and tapped her foot. “I really don’t have time for this.”

  “Would you like me to take care of it, Your Majesty?”

  “Only if you can handle it personally. I wouldn’t want anyone else thinking I’m too ‘soft’ to handle my own business.”

  “Of course.”

  “Very well. But make sure he understands why he’s being punished. Make sure he knows I sent you.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “All right, you may go. I’d like to be alone with my thoughts.”

  He bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Allydia’s mind wandered again to Wyat
t, the blood spilling from his wrist like a siren song. Had he been anyone else, she wouldn’t have bothered stifling her baser instincts. As it was, she knew she had to stay away or risk devouring him whole, the image of which she played in her mind like pornography. She would keep a distance, for now, trusting his siblings to keep him safe.

  “Hart!” Mason greeted as the Queen’s assistant entered the apartment. “I wasn’t expecting you. Did we have a date tonight?”

  As the door closed, Hart pulled a gun out from under his leather duster and shot the other man in the gut.

  “What the hell?!”

  “Queen’s business.”

  Mason fell back into a recliner, covering his wound with one shaky hand. “UV bullets?”

  Hart nodded.

  “You told her? You betrayed me?” His lip quivered under his jet black goatee, blood starting to ooze out from his mouth.

  “You know I had to.”

  “But we are lovers.”

  He smacked his lips and rolled his eyes. “Getting together a few times a month to bang it out and never speaking otherwise hardly makes us ‘lovers’. Besides, my loyalty is to the Queen. You know that.”

  “Some Queen you serve! Forcing you to do her dirty work, knowing that we were sleeping together. The cruelty!”

  “She didn’t force anything. I volunteered.”

  “You…ah. You think you can endear yourself to her.”

  He clicked his tongue. “She already loves me.”

  Mason wheezed, a knowing smile turning up his lips. “She will never give you what you want.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Foolish boy,” he coughed. “She will never--”

  “Don’t call me ‘boy’!” His heart beat fast as he shouted.

  “You should go home and shave. Your five o’clock shadow is showing.”

  He pulled his dagger and plunged it into the other vampire’s chest. “You shouldn’t have blasphemed. You should have kept your trap shut.”

  Mason shook violently as Hart carved, tearing at muscle and breaking through bone. Blood splattered across his face as he reached his hand inside the condemned man’s chest.

  “Please,” Mason gurgled.

  He ignored him, got his fingers around the slippery organ, and yanked it from his body. Mason looked at his own heart beating in the man’s perfectly manicured hand, the shiny black nail polish now caked with gore. Hart held it there, showing it to him until the light faded from his eyes.

  Death came to all traitors of the Queen, but that wasn’t the real punishment. The real punishment was watching their hearts beat outside of their body, then stopping. It wasn’t enough to kill them. They had to watch, not just feel their lives leave them. They had to be terrified.

  It’s done, Hart texted. Is there anything else you need?

  No, the Queen replied. Thank you. I will see you tomorrow.

  He put his phone on the coffee table and sank into the couch. “Hey, Marilyn,” he cooed as his cat climbed up into his lap. He pet her gently as she purred and curled up for a nap. “I missed you, too. Did you have enough to eat while I was gone?” He glanced over to the food dish and saw that there were still a few bits of cat food uneaten. “That’s good. Did you have a nice night? Mine kind of sucked. Killed a dude, and not because I was hungry, so that was no fun. Now I have to find a new fuck buddy and you know how I hate shopping for dick. Maybe I’ll just be celibate for a while, shut it all down. Put up a sign, ‘this booty’s closed for repairs’. Not that I’m broken, mind you. Just a little…bent.” He tilted his head as he gazed down at his pet as she slept. “You ignoring my existential crisis? That’s cool. I’ve been doing it for years. The Queen will grant me this, right? She’s not unreasonable. Just because Mason’s like, two hundred or whatever, doesn’t mean he knows what he’s talking about. Right?”

  The cat continued to sleep.

  “Fine. You rest. I should probably get some sleep, too. It’s been a night. Let’s go to bed.” He carried her to the bedroom and sat her on her princess kitty bed before taking off his boots and letting himself fall into bed, crashing down onto the black comforter and groaning as his face hit the hot pink pillowcase. “So tired.”

  The cat scratched at the sparkly crown emblem on her bed, licked her paw and curled up on the plush fabric.

  Hart looked over at her one more time and closed his eyes. “Thanks for being a good listener, M.”

  Chapter 8

  Gabriel returned home to Valerie who’d been waiting there, her impatience evident.

  “Bitch, where the fuck you been?” she griped. “Me and Lucifer have been taking turns keeping Wyatt from offing himself for days. I can’t handle this shit.”

  “I’ll go over there after I eat something,” Gabriel said, taking a bag of cheese puffs from the pantry.

  “Speaking of food, that boy eats a lot of pizza. You’d think he was raised by a giant rat in the sewer.”

  Gabriel laughed. “It’s a psychological thing. A ‘fuck you’ to his dad. He was a very knife-and-fork kind of dude, thought pizza was ‘uncivilized’, like, peasant food. He was real boujee. Don’t tell B that, though. He just thinks he likes it because it’s delicious.”

  “I still can’t believe he got back with the vampire. They’re a full-blown couple now.”

  “Right?” Gabriel said, taking a bite and avoiding eye contact.

  “Girl.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Girl! You set them up?”

  “Only kind of. I didn’t have to take him to the vampire club to find out where Lilith’s demons were. She could have told me over the phone.”

  “The fuck, bitch?”

  “I knew she’d get obsessed and start following him around. I knew she’d look out for him, and us in turn, with that whole Lilith thing. I knew she’d protect him. I wasn’t counting on him getting so involved, though. I warned him not to get too close. I made it very clear she was--”

  “She’s a vampire,” Valerie yelled. “She called me because she couldn’t handle seeing his blood. What if she--”

  “If she ever lays a finger on him, I’ll fucking kill her.”

  Gabriel entered Wyatt’s apartment, the stench of booze punching her in the face. Empty pizza boxes lay haphazardly on the coffee table and island while sorrow hung in the air like smog. She looked Wyatt over, his unconscious body on the floor, leaning against the sofa, a nearly empty bottle of scotch in his hand. She took it from him and went to the kitchen where she drained the contents into the sink.

  “Gabriel,” Lucifer said, looking up from his book. He put it down on the counter and sat up straight on his bar stool. “So good of you to grace us with your presence. Was your trip a success?”

  “Not really,” she replied, taking the last three bottles of whiskey from the pantry and dumping them, as well. “It’s like I thought. He’s warded. I did meet a girl, though, so not a total waste of time. What’s with the ghost?” She gestured toward the far corner where the phantom that haunted the building stood creepily still, watching in silence.

  “The poor dear’s been fixated on our bereaved brother. I think she’s lonely. Seems harmless enough.”

  “Ugh, I can’t deal with dead people on top of everything else. Yo! Hey, honey! It’s time to go home.”

  “That’s rather rude, don’t you think?” Lucifer lectured.

  “Fine,” Gabriel huffed, walking over to speak to the spirit face-to-face. “Hello. I’m Gabriel, Messenger of God. It’s time for you to go to Heaven.”

  The ghost looked at her with hope in her milky eyes before turning her gaze to Wyatt. Worry covered her face as she looked back at Gabriel.

  “He’ll be fine,” Gabriel promised. “I’ll stay with him.”

  The specter didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m an angel of the highest order. I won’t let anything happen to him, I swear. You need to go now. Your baby’s waiting for you.”

  The ghost smiled, looked up, and br
eathed a sigh of relief as she faded, then disappeared.

  “Well, I’m off,” Lucifer announced, slipping his book into the duffel bag and zipping it closed. “I could use a decent night’s rest. I trust you’ll watch over Barachiel, now that you’re back.”

  “As long as he needs me. Listen, you know what’s coming. This is gonna be an all-hands-on-deck situation. Uriel can’t be fighting with a fucking pocket knife, do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I do, indeed. Have no fear, sister. I know just where to find what she needs.”

  “Good. And, Lucifer,” she said, looking over to Wyatt and back at him. “Thanks.”

  They exchanged knowing glances as Lucifer picked up his bag. “It was my pleasure.” He left the apartment, leaving Gabriel to pick up Wyatt’s broken pieces. She took a trash can from the bathroom, set it in her brother’s lap, and smacked him in the face. His eyes flew open and she flicked two fingers toward herself, causing the contents of his stomach to come flooding up and out of his mouth. When he was done vomiting, Gabriel took the now full can back to the bathroom before returning and sitting herself down next to Wyatt and patting his knee.

  He looked at her, tears filling his eyes as he began to tremble. “I’m not okay,” he croaked.

  “I know,” she told him.

  “You were right. About everything.”

  “See, if you people would just keep that in the back of your minds--”

  “How could I do it? What kind of monster am I inside? I killed my son.”

  “To be fair, he killed you first. I know because I felt that shit. It was brutal. I’m still having nightmares.”

  “I don’t know how to live with this. It’s too much.”

  “I know. Come here.” She wrapped her arms around him as he lay his head down in her lap, weeping and grabbing onto his sister’s hand, afraid to let go. Tears welled in her eyes, too, as she bent down to kiss the top of his head. She brushed the hair away from his face as she whispered, “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could’ve done. God, B, I’m so, so sorry.”