She hovered, biting her lip, and for a moment, he wondered if she might not confess on the spot and save him the trouble of digging for the details. But with a quick last glance at the bookshelves, she sidled toward the door. It slammed shut as she came within reach of it. She stopped in her tracks, a hiss of air escaping her.
“Stay,” Lucifer said. “We’ve never had a chance to chat. I’m sure you have much to tell me.”
The Cherub turned to face him. Her gaze, hollow with the knowledge of what was to come, met his. He smiled, and with a soft mewl, she crumpled to the floor.
Chapter 47
Alex waited for the burn in her throat to subside, then poured a second, generous portion of whiskey. Swirling the amber liquid in a slow circle, she stared at her reflection in the dark kitchen window.
“So you’re not really all-powerful.” Even now, with one drink already warming her belly, her brain kept dancing around the idea. The blasphemy behind it. Except the One herself had said it, so was it really blasphemy? She slugged back the second shot of whiskey.
“I have limits,” the One agreed.
“How? How can you have made all of this”—she waved an encompassing hand—“and still have limits?”
“Everything I’ve made is a part of me, a tiny bit of my essence. My power, if you will. That holds true of Lucifer as well, only he is more of me than my other creations. A great deal more. I wanted a helpmeet in him. A partner. I wanted him to be my equal, or very close to it.”
The liquor in Alex’s stomach gave an uneasy roll. Lucifer, equal to the One? That didn’t sound good.
“The real problem,,” continued the One, “lies with the part of myself I used to create him. Whether because of instinct or a need to retain at least an illusion of control, I wanted him to be just slightly less than what I was. I didn’t want him to feel lesser to me, however, so I compensated by giving him the illusion of equal power . . . more of my yang than my yin, I suppose you could say.”
“I don’t understand.”
“At one time, I was the All, the everything. I was balance itself, both Creator and Destroyer, both light and dark. When I made Lucifer, I gave him more of that darker side of me. Now, while I create, he is more prone to destroy. I love, while he holds my capacity to hate. I am the champion of good. He . . . is not. All that he is, I no longer am. And what I am, he can never be. It isn’t that I don’t want to rise against him or his Fallen followers, it’s that I can’t. I don’t have the strength—and I gave him my will.”
“So how in Hell,” Alex grated, “did he get the name of Light-bearer?”
“In the beginning, he was the light of my existence. Now he is the light of truth—the truth about me. My failure, my arrogance, my ultimate demise.”
“De—” The empty glass dropped from Alex’s grip, floated above the floor for an instant, and rose to settle gently on the counter. She stared at it, then at the One. “What demise?”
“It’s how I will stop him, Alexandra. The only way that I can. It’s the reason I ask you to do the unbearable and convince Seth to take back what only he can possess. Holding this world together against my son’s discarded power is taking everything I have. If Lucifer turns to open warfare—and it’s only a matter of time until he does—I cannot stand against him as long as Seth remains mortal.”
Alex wrapped her arms around herself and hung on for dear life as what little remained of reality shuddered, splintered, and crumbled to dust. She opened her mouth to speak but found no voice. Swallowing twice, she tried again, managing a bare whisper. “What about the angels? Michael and—the others?”
“They can stop the Fallen from destroying you outright, but not from inflicting great damage. Should Lucifer himself decide to get involved, things will not go well.”
“And the Nephilim?”
“They, I’m afraid, will remain humanity’s burden.”
“So if I don’t convince Seth, humanity will absolutely be wiped from existence, and if I do convince him, you’ll die and we’ll still have the Nephilim to deal with.”
“Not die. Become other. I will bind my energy to Lucifer’s to become what I used to be a very long time ago, before I took a form.”
“There will be no one left?”
“My angels will remain to watch over you, and there will be Seth.”
Seth. Many times damaged Seth, asleep in the other room. Asleep, waiting for her, with no idea of the treachery taking place in his own kitchen. She thought about the cool politeness to which they had resorted in their dance around what neither wanted to discuss. Her job. Aramael. The unsettling question of why he had allowed a Fallen One into his life. The continued, looming presence of Lucifer between them. The lack of his concern for anyone but her among humanity.
And now, Heaven’s request that she, too, betray his trust.
Silence settled between them. Alex tried to imagine a world without its Creator. Her world without the man she loved if he stepped back into his immortal birthright. She tried, too, to be angry with a deity that could have let things go this far, get this out of hand, become this hopeless.
But all she could manage was emptiness. Sadness. A single question. “How soon?”
The One rose from the table. “As soon as you can,” she said. “And, Alex . . . for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Chapter 48
Alex slipped back into bed and lay beside Seth, listening to his deep, steady breathing. Light and shadow played across the ceiling as cars passed by in the street below. Pain stabbed beneath her ribs with every beat of her heart.
Sliding an arm under her head, she glanced sideways at the glow of the digital clock. Four a.m. Another hour and she had to be up. The effort of trying to go back to sleep almost wasn’t worth it. Except facing the day would be harder. She closed her eyes. Heaved a shaky sigh. How in all of Heaven and Hell and Earth combined was she going to find the strength to do what the One asked? It didn’t matter that she understood now why Seth needed to go back, she was still going to lose him. She was still going to hurt him.
Warm fingers threaded with hers beneath the sheet. A thumb caressed the inside of her wrist.
“I’m sorry,” Seth’s quiet voice rumbled. “About today, and before. I haven’t been fair to you.”
She squeezed her eyes tighter. “Seth—”
“Shh. Let me finish. I know you’re doing your best, Alex. You’re in an impossible place, knowing what you do about what’s coming, trying to protect your world against forces beyond your control. Part of me wants you to give up because I don’t believe you can win, part of me can’t help but admire you for standing up for what you think is right. For not giving in. But another part of me—most of me, I think—can’t get past the guilt of not being able to do anything. I’ve never felt helpless before. It’s not a pleasant sensation.” His hand moved to caress her arm. “But I’m still trying. Even if I can’t stop Armageddon or the Nephilim, I want to be here for you. Without the hysterics of jealousy or feeling sorry for myself.”
Hell and damnation. He wasn’t making this any easier.
“Seth—”
He placed his fingers over her lips. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you, Alexandra Jarvis. You are my entire existence, and I do not—will not—let anyone make me regret having chosen you.”
He shifted his weight toward her, and his mouth replaced his hand. She resisted, guilt swamping her. She should have stopped him, should have interrupted and told him about his mother’s visit, about how he needed to go. Should do so even now, because delaying would only make it worse.