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Lucifer touched Asher’s chin. “Brother, what have you done?”
Asher shoved him backward, and he fell back into the snow, laughing. “Mind your trash,” the angel said with a scowl.
The succubus had managed to bring her two halves end to end and was flopping in the snow, trying in vain to bring herself together. Lucifer rolled his eyes at Asher. “Sad,” he said, going toward her, unzipping his pants. “Just sad.” The angel turned away with a shudder of disgust from the tableau they made as the Fallen One pissed on his creature, the smell of her “healing” nearly unbearable as she wept in gratitude.
The homeless woman was still lying on her side on the mattress, her eyes glazed over, one hand pressed to her chest. Asher crouched beside her and touched her shoulder, but she didn’t stir or even blink. He rolled her gently onto her back, passing a hand over her body, listening, sensing her soul.
“She’s done for, brother,” Lucifer said, coming back to him, zipping up his pants. The succubus was scuttling away sideways on all fours like a crab, her torso now joined with a misshapen welt of pinkish gray scarring. Her spine was bent and seemed to still be mending; every few steps she would jerk and hiss in pain. She snarled at Asher, licking her lips before she disappeared around the corner. “You frightened her to death,” Lucifer went on, paying his servant no heed. “But don’t fret. I’m certain you did her a favor.”
“She isn’t dead,” Asher said, but it was only just the truth. Her breath was so shallow no mortal could have detected it, and her heartbeat was very weak. He leaned close and breathed deliberately into her face, and she sighed, her lips barely moving, but her body didn’t stir.
“What’s a minute or so either way?” Lucifer said with a grin, peering over Asher’s shoulder. “Step back, angel. This one’s mine.”
“Stay back,” Asher ordered.
“What’s it to you?” the Morning Star asked. “You don’t actually care, do you?”
“I said she isn’t dead.” He could see the glow on her skin that was her mortal life to his angel’s eyes steadily fading. He put a hand over her heart and looked back through mortal time, reading her past. She had called the succubus into herself on purpose, he saw. She had thought it was a harmless prank, magic she barely believed was real meant to give her power over men. If she died now, Lucifer was right. He would surely have her.
“You do care,” Lucifer said, his voice gone silky soft. “Then save her.” He crouched beside Asher, the two of them hunkered over the dying woman like hunters at a fire. “Use your power over matter on this plane to put her right.” He extended his own hand over the woman’s body, wincing once in pain before he smiled. “Mend her broken heart…rebuild her blackened lungs. If her death isn’t assured yet, how could it be a sin to push it back?” Asher turned to him scowling, and he smiled again. “And if it is, what of it?” he said. “I’d love to have you as my guest in Hell.”
“Enough,” Asher said, ripping open the woman’s coat. “You know I won’t.”
“Yes,” Lucifer agreed. “But I’m fascinated that you want to.” He watched as Asher ripped open the woman’s shirt as well and tilted her head back. “Michael will be so pleased.”
“I said enough.” His fallen brother was right. As an angel, Asher had the power to manipulate the matter of this woman’s body to repair her worn, diseased organs and push back the specter of death. But that kind of miracle was meant to be reserved for saints, those mortals who worked the will of the Light like angels on Earth. Wasting this power on a witch with no faith wouldn’t just weaken his powers; it would be a sin against his office. But maybe he didn’t need his powers to save her. The least he could do was try. He opened her mouth, ignoring the stench of her breath.
“Careful, brother.” Lucifer settled back on his haunches to watch. “Free will is a dangerous thing. Once you start making your own choices, it’s not so easy to stop.” Asher breathed into the woman’s mouth the way a mortal would to save her, once, twice. “And touching these monkeys can become a habit really quickly.” Asher put his hands over the woman’s breastbone and pushed. “You can trust me on that one.” Asher counted under his breath, ignoring him. “It passes the time,” he went on. “And they can be delicious in their rotting, hairy little way.” After thirty compressions, he breathed into her mouth again. “Your new little friend, for example.” Asher raised his head to look at him. “Kelsey. She’s a peach.”
“No,” Asher ordered. “Don’t you dare.”
“Daring is kind of my thing, remember?”
“She’s nobody,” Asher said. “I felt bad for her. I helped her. I’ll never see her again.”
“Bet me,” Lucifer said. “Bet me your angelic soul.” He glanced at the woman on the ground. “You’re losing your patient.”
Asher turned away from him and went back to compressing the homeless woman’s chest. The more he protested, the mo
re determined Lucifer would become to make Kelsey a battle between them. Watch over her, please, he prayed as he counted compressions. Help her resist. The very idea of Lucifer going near Kelsey didn’t just make him afraid; it made him jealous, a very dangerous emotion for an angel. But if he stayed away from her himself, the demon would lose interest.
“No one is going to come, Asher,” Lucifer said, standing up. “How long do you plan on squatting there in the dirt?”
“Holy shit!” a voice said from the fire escape above them. From the very top, a man wearing boxer shorts and a heavy coat was looking down at them, his unlit cigarette in one hand, his lighter in the other. “What happened? Oh God…okay, I’m calling 911!” He scrambled back inside, fighting his way through the window.
Asher spared a moment to smile at his fallen brother. “Well, what do you know?”
“Hallelujah,” the demon said, his scarred mouth twisted in a scowl. “Oh well.” He took his own cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with an old-fashioned metal lighter with a cartoon devil painted on the side. “I can wait.” He exhaled a cloud of stinking smoke. “It’s not like I don’t have the time.”
The mortal stuck his head back out the window. “They’re on their way,” he shouted. “I’ll be right down. I know CPR.”
“You’re saved,” Lucifer said. “Or she is, anyway.” He took a long drag from his cigarette and grinned. “For now.”
“She can repent,” Asher pointed out. “She can still escape you.”
“And that seems so very likely with her living on the streets.” He exhaled his smoke over the woman’s face, grinning again at Asher’s scowl. “You’re falling, brother. No good deed goes unpunished, remember? You start out trying to help, and the next thing you know, you’re damning yourself and taking all your pets down with you.” He stepped back as the mortal came running out of the building and fell to his knees beside the angel to help. “See you soon.”
“How did you find her?” the mortal said, taking over the compressions. “Do you know her?”
