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Michael gave Lucifer a placating look. “And how did you intend to pull that off, by the way?”
Lucifer shrugged nonchalantly. “I have my ways.”
“Whatever. He has bigger plans for them than to watch them die on Earth,” Michael quipped. He slipped his hands back into his pockets, his feathers ruffling in annoyance.
Lucifer chuckled. “Mhm, of course. And you think he’s better than me? I don’t want to control her destiny. I don’t control any of the souls who come to Hell—in fact—they must offer themselves up willingly to be considered for the Turning. Even after being turned into a demon, they still have more free will than most beings created byHim.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Freedom is not something you can market.”
Lucifer scoffed. “Your maker advertises it in his story book about as much as he advertises me as both a literal and metaphoricalsnake,as well as the bane of humanity’s existence. Let’s go through it. Galatians 5:13:‘For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another.’That’s Him telling you that you’re free, but only if you use that freedom the way he wants. Psalm 118:5:‘Out of my distress I called on the Lord; the Lord answered me and set me free.’Of course, freedom cannot be achieved without first subscribing to His way and following His lead. Romans 8:21:‘That the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God….’Should I go on? Would you like me to point out every single scripture verse that directly contradicts what you’re advertising? That ‘freedom’ isn’t really freedom, but more like picking the master you’d prefer to worship for the rest of your life?”
I was… speechless by the end of Lucifer’s spiel.
“This is why you are no longer part of the Legions of Heaven,” Michael said, scowling. “You’ve always been able to manipulate things to your liking.”
“Oh, please!” Lucifer guffawed. “Hejust doesn’t like to be questioned, and I was asking too many questions.”
“That isn’t true, Lucifer,” Michael said, his expression stoic. “You were miserable and jealous.”
Lucifer laughed louder. “Jealous of who? You don’t mean ofyou, surely!”
Aria and I watched as they squabbled.
“There is no shame in being jealous. We worked hard for the position, but I was better—”
“You were hisfavorite!” Lucifer finally snapped. His fists slammed into the arms of his throne, and the ground trembled beneath our feet. “You were his lapdog, the teacher’s pet, the boy fucking wonder! You didn’t have to work a single day to earn your position, so shut the fuck up about being better! You werenothingto me. And it shows.”
His temper rose, and suddenly, all the oxygen in the room seemed to vanish beneath a wave of scalding air. “It shows even now.Isit on a throne,Irule the living and the dead,Iam in their hearts and minds. And where are you?”
Lucifer grinned, mocking cruelly, “Sitting at the feet of your master.”
Silence reigned at Lucifer’s admission. Michael appraised Lucifer with a critical eye before his lips twitched into a smirk. “You seem to be experiencing the full range of human emotions. That would happen after being forced to live among them for decades.”
Lucifer’s ire peaked. I tugged Aria into my body protectively.
He sat forward, his face morphed into a snarl before he seemed to remember something. His expression smoothed out, he sat back with a deep sigh, and then he cupped his hands, a golden chalice appearing in his grasp.
“This is why you’re never invited to Hell,” Lucifer sighed. “You provoke me to violence.”
Michael then did the unthinkable. Aria and I gaped as he…laughed.
“I’m not invited because I won’t partake in your debauchery,” he answered.
Lucifer’s lips pursed. “Your idea of debauchery is a single glass of wine.” He brought his goblet to his lips and sipped indulgently. “It’s ridiculous, considering that humans are encouraged to drink wine in your churches.”
Michael closed his eyes in faux annoyance.
A table and chairs appeared in the room. The stone-colored walls bled into a peach color, and Lucifer’s iron throne morphed into a giant, overstuffed chair. A rug sprung up from the floor as the stones seemed to shift and morph themselves into planks of wood.
“Sit,” Lucifer instructed. “He won’t be going anywhere. We might as well get comfortable.”
23
WHOSE BLOODLINE?
ARIA
“You don’t have to condemn yourself to Hell to meet your parents,” Michael started.
