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Page 26
Page 26
I just grin at Rafael, because he seems infuriated about his insulting rant getting interrupted.
“Explain,” Kai says to the Twins.
“If she chooses to do something for a selfless reason, she has to find a selfish reasoning to do it as well, in order to preserve balance. She’s selflessly selfish in that equation, because she had no prior selfish motives. It’s all about motives and reasoning,” the one closest to us says in a bored tone.
“The overachiever she is, she usually only has to put thought into the big decisions,” the other twin says. “Because the small ones are subconsciously made with an easy balance for her.”
I glance back at Rafael when he releases a snort of derision.
“You’re pretty judgmental for a murderous psychopath with a halo. Curious. Do you have wings? Are angels allowed to have sex?” I prattle on, only needling him farther because it feels good, considering what he put me through. “Want to see what it looks like with your own personal harem? We’re up for demonstrations.”
Gage makes a sound of amusement, along with Ezekiel, making it hard to decide on my favorite at the moment.
Oh wait…that’s right. Chloe is still an unaddressed issue. Ezekiel it is.
Rafael snarls at me as my head continues to go off on sporadic tangents.
“She still thinks she’s funny,” Lilith adds on a groan.
“No. I think I’m hilarious and completely underappreciated. And I think no one wants to explain anything because they’re too busy arguing or distracting me. But that’s just one girl’s opinion, and I did die. Still not clear on the reasons why.”
Rafael looks even angrier, so I take a step closer to Lucifer. I don’t know if he’s stronger than Rafael, but it feels safe to gamble with the Devil I know right now, instead of the one who wears a halo when killing.
I still hate Lucifer for his manipulative illusions, but I’ll deal with him later.
“You think you’re the victim in this scenario, which shouldn’t come as a surprise. Hell always plays the victim, despite their sins. The righteous are always judged by all of you,” he goes on.
“Says the guy who killed me and beat me for the hell of it today, while letting the Devil break my heart and torture my mind. My soul is dark and twisted. What’s your excuse?” I volley.
“Sitting yourselves on a pedestal as you hold yourself to such a small standard of accountability,” Rafael bitterly rambles, not acknowledging the fact I just spoke.
“She couldn’t defeat him!” Lucifer snaps. “Now we know that for certain.”
At this point, I think Lucifer is just shouting things. Truthful or not? That’s the balance with him; you never know when it’s a lie.
“I can do this all day. Out of the two of us, I’m the only one who hasn’t murdered the other,” I say sweetly, batting my lashes at Rafael and ignoring Lucifer’s outburst. “Hardly think of you as righteous, so you can stop with the haughty tone.”
“Why are we even arguing? This is my decision now,” Lucifer growls.
“You really plan to do this? It won’t work,” Rafael says in a desperate sort of way that only confuses me more. “She has to fight Jahl.”
“She has to fight pure evil? How? She is evil!” Lucifer shouts back.
“But she has enough compassion and the perfect balance for this,” Rafael goes on.
Turning my head from side to side, looking over one shoulder and then the other, I listen as the angel and Devil argue back and forth. I shake my head, wondering how this metaphor just got so real.
I gesture between them as they take another few jabs at each other, and give my guys that unspoken question I expect them to hear. Can you believe this is actually happening right now?
Jude gives me that neck-wringing glare and points to his side like I’m supposed to immediately obey and zap myself there.
Right. Serious shit is going on. No time to be distracted by shiny things.
Still, when they lean over me to argue over my head—the Devil on my left and the angel on my right—I snort and choke back a laugh.
Rafael takes a few immediate steps back as I recover from my momentary slip. I hear Lilith and Hera both giggle as well, so I know they at least got the silent joke.
I hate them a little less for that.
“What’s truly funny, and you’re missing the point, is the fact you think I’m the villain and you’re the misunderstood victim in this equation because you have no memories of the truth, Apocalypse,” Rafael says with a snarl. “You’re the villain.”
“Simply because you have unsullied lips and mine are poisoned with sin?” I volley.
“No,” one of the other angels says, drawing my attention away. “Because instead of making a selflessly selfish or selfishly selfless decision, you just made a selfish one. You were going to end the world and help Lucifer seal hell,” he tells me, stealing all the lingering humor from the air.
My brow furrows as Rafael takes a step toward me, regaining my attention.
“You wanted to level it all, shatter the balance, and lock yourself safely behind hell’s front door and give Jahl the world.” He takes one step closer as a heavy weight settles on my chest. “After, of course, you spent a mortal life as a Romanian gypsy with her traveling harem,” he adds bitterly.
“That doesn’t sound quite like me. I was fearless,” I argue. “Everyone and everything says so.”
He goes on as though I haven’t said anything at all.
“Hell can’t fully be sealed to contain all its occupants, as you once were perfectly aware—no entrances, but plenty of one-way breaches. Who knows what would happen if Jahl gathers enough souls to breach one or both of us eventually,” Rafael continues as I slowly take a step back. “He has plenty of followers already in hell who would gladly turn over their souls, believing him to be a grander Devil than Lucifer.”
Lucifer groans. “I’m the Devil,” he states.
“But it’s just the Devil with a little t in my head. I have a big T with my title,” I state as if compelled to do so, and then I grin when Lucifer glares at me.
Why does it feel like I’ve just somehow won a prize?
“The point is, Jahl’s people—your rebels—would possibly drag all the souls from hell that Jahl needed, and you lazy, selfish, distracted ingrates wouldn’t do a thing to stop it,” one of the angels dryly states, giving Manella an incredulous look when Sloth himself startles awake.
He smacks his jaws before releasing a loud yawn.
“If Jahl can consume enough true souls like he’s been attempting to do for centuries, he could eventually consume both heaven and hell,” another angel supplies, eyes on me.
“That doesn’t mean she deserved to die!” Lucifer says, restarting the argument. “It was never her place to have to fight him!” he roars, shoving Rafael, who simply turns the other cheek.
“I killed her because the balance needed to tilt to purer times, and the only way to do that was to banish a great evil. She was acting selfishly, so there was no cost of balance from her death,” Rafael bites out.
“Did it work?” I ask Lamar, glancing over my shoulder as a dull pain starts in my temple. “Did the scales tip to purer times?”
“No,” Lucifer growls as Lamar lowers his eyes like he’s not allowed to speak. “It’s gotten considerably worse. Because he killed the only one of us with an ounce of compassion.”
He shoves Rafael across the room, and the angel grunts when he hits the wall, but his eyes stay averted as his jaw tics.
“Better or worse is actually highly subjective, depending on perspective,” an angel replies.
“Paca was the balance holding hell at bay, and none of the rest of us are capable of caring what happens to the mortal souls, least of all me. There’s a reason she was a master at balancing—she saw the part everything and everyone played,” Lucifer says, snarling.
Rafael ignores Lucifer as his eyes land directly on mine, while I try to pretend to be the impervious hell spawn I’m supposed to be in this moment.
“You wouldn’t risk your precious Horsemen. The five of you together could have ended this and saved the world. But you’d never let them fight, so you ran. Like a coward. So much for the fearless Apocalypse,” Rafael says seriously.
“You want to see a coward?” Lucifer asks as a familiar laugh echoes behind me.
I whirl around as the Devil adds, “I’ll show you a true coward.”
My eyes are on the movie playing out before me like a phantom projector is in the room, casting the screen on the wall.
It’s me. In a very familiar graveyard. The one the guys use a lot when reaping escaped souls.
I’m not really sure where the reel is coming from or if it’s just another illusion.
“Or you could simply make my room purple. It’s my new favorite color. Lilith is being greedy by keeping that color to herself for so long,” the me on the screen is saying to…no one.
It looks the Paca on the reel is talking to herself, much like I do now. I gravitate toward the screen, seeing the past Paca with an easy, wicked tilt to her lips.
“Yes, I know greed isn’t one of her impurities,” she says on an annoyed groan. “It’s a figure of speech. You really should expand your vernacular at some point. The nineties will be here before you know it. Just a few short centuries away.”