Soul Conquered Page 3

  “Hey, babe.” He raises his beer hand in salute, first barely sparing her a glance, then doing a double take when he sees her in the little outfit Lucifer left her with.

  “Um, hi.” Grace shoots me a look that says both WTF and what am I missing now?

  “Gracie, Randy. Randy, Gracie. I hope you don’t mind, but I told Randy how you invited me to crash and, well, you always say the more people, the bigger the party, right?” I bat my eyes innocently, hoping she’ll catch on.

  Grace still looks mad enough to set the room on fire, but Randy doesn’t notice. He’s not staring at her red face.

  “Sure. Hey, Keira, can you please help me with something in my room?”

  I toss my new, longer hairstyle back over my shoulder and follow her into the bedroom, lying back on the cushions.

  “You brought your assignment here?” she asks, demanding an explanation.

  “Lucifer paid me a visit. He’s your assignment, too, now.” I fluff one of the pillows. “He wants you to help corrupt Randy.”

  Gracie’s face drains of all color. She matches the sheets she sits on. “But you said he wants Randy to distract you from Noah. So that means…” Her voice trails off.

  I lay a hand on her shoulder. She looks like a lost duckling. Ugh, I can’t believe I have to spell it out. “He expects you to do whatever it takes to put Randy over the edge. To do your utmost, no holds barred. And sex is the easiest way to manipulate others.”

  Why must I be in this situation? Of course I have to corrupt her to keep in Lucifer’s graces, which is going to take a gentle hand and earning her misguided trust. But the problem is that she’s so damn helpless, it kills me. It’s, like, I didn’t know anyone could actually be like that, and it only makes me angrier at her. I want her to be so formidable that I can’t possibly take her down—not be the doormat she is right now.

  What the Hell is wrong with her?

  “You’re a Demon,” I remind her. “You said it yourself: you have to play the part if you want access to Noah. You already made the choice, Gracie. Now it’s time to deal with the reality.” I stand, stretching.

  “You’re right. Of course. I… I just… I want there to be a way I can stay true to Josh. I guess that’s a childish wish.”

  No, not childish, just impossible. I know how she feels. I already sent another note to Noah, explaining what I’m expected to do and how much I hate it. I’ll be thinking only of you, I wrote, wishing I had the strength to defy Lucifer. But hundreds of years as a Demon have taught me my place, so I’m resigned to getting this assignment over with as soon as possible.

  “I’ll go start the Jacuzzi. Take your time, but you can’t stay in here, or Lucifer will make it worse.” I turn to leave, but something makes me turn back around one last time. I don’t know why I say it, but I do.

  “It’s not so bad. You’ll be fine.”

  Chapter 4

  Josh

  My chest constricts when I hear Keira’s words through the screen in front of me. My fingers tear right through the leather material beside me on the couch. I haven’t felt this much anger since I was a Demon. Yet here I am in Heaven while my sweet, innocent Grace suffers because of me.

  Maybe I’m some unwilling part of Lucifer’s grand plan and I actually still am a Demon. The worst kind. The kind that corrupts the best Angels. And here I am, having infiltrated Heaven. Only I didn’t do it on purpose. I hate this!

  I rip off the cushions all the way, sending stuffing and strips of leather flying through the air with a cry that makes Tommy Two run for the safety of his dog bed.

  “I’m not letting her do it,” I say to whoever might be listening. I’ve given in to Grace’s wishes for as long as I can manage, and it’s only gotten her in deeper. But this is the last straw. I’m not fucking letting her sleep with some sleazeball while I sit here and watch the great Michael Griffith do nothing.

  “Oh dear, have I interrupted something?”

  I turn to find Shona, Angel Trainer, standing at the open door with one hand spread across her chest. Her proper English accent seems out of place in the middle of my outburst.

  “Did we have an appointment?” I ask as a few pieces of fluff float past my face.

  She nods.

  “Sorry. I guess I lost track of time.” I will the screen off, but not before her eyes narrow behind her catlike glasses, a shrewd, yet sad expression on her face.

  “How is she?” she asks in a softer voice.

  I collapse onto the broken sofa. “Not good. I’m going down there.”

  Shona shakes her head and squats near me, resting a hand tentatively on my knee. “I told you the last time you said that: what good will that do? Then you’ll both be Demons under Lucifer’s control.”

  “What good does this do?” I demand, standing again and pacing.

  Shona stands, too, smoothing down the crease in her white-and-gold robes. “Watching her? No good at all. Finding the key to helping Grace and Noah with knowledge? Plenty good. You belong at the library.”

  I sigh. I’ve read all of her “finds” already. I’ve learned about the history of Angels and Earth and all things Heavenly, but nothing with any good info on Antichrists or Armageddon. And definitely nothing on Lucifer. It’s like he was erased from the texts after he fell.

  “I’m sick of studying,” I say. “I never liked it.”

  “You said you’d do anything for Grace.” Shona levels her gaze at me. She’s thin, but she’s almost as tall as I am, so she’s still imposing.

  “But it isn’t helping,” I complain.

  “That’s because we haven’t found the right book. Until now.” Shona gestures for me to follow and heads straight out the door. No room for discussion. I glance back at the blank screen. Either I rush in to save Grace with no real plan, which she told me not to do, or I try to help her the way she asked me to.

  Damn.

  I rush out the door after Shona and hurry through the hallway of stars to the library door.

  She’s already inside, blowing dust off the top of a giant tome bound in leather with what must be a thousand yellowed pages, all frayed at the edges.

  “It’s so old,” she says without glancing up, “that if it were on Earth, the pages would have disintegrated. But here it is.”

  “Where’d you find it?” I ask, circling to take a closer look.

  The corner of her mouth twists upward ever so slightly. “Let’s just say I’ve been combing some unorthodox areas for research purposes. And it just so happens that the author of this text is our very own Archangel, Michael.”

  “Mr. Griffith? You didn’t ask him—”

  “Don’t worry. He doesn’t know I…borrowed it. I happened to see it on his desk when I was there this morning for a meeting about training more greeters. It was full of clutter—very unlike him—and this was poking out. Well, I couldn’t resist when he wasn’t looking.” Shona bites her lip and blushes slightly.

  For the first time in two weeks, I have hope.

  Shona bounces a little on her feet and sounds reverent when she speaks. “And look.” She opens it, flipping about two-thirds of the way through. “A whole section on the One.”

  Excitement builds. Maybe this really is it. The information we need.

  The words are in some ancient text—I’m no expert, but maybe Hebrew? Whatever it is, it rearranges itself as we watch and becomes modern English.

  “It’s adjusting to a language we can both understand,” Shona says.

  The Prophecy of the One

  “The One shall rise with the herald of the birds.

  Death names him, Hell claims him.

  Heaven cannot touch him,

  for he is the harbinger of the Day of Judgment.

  Through the One shall the fate of the Earth be written,

  for his blood sacrifice crowns the King of Hell.”

  Shona waits, clenching the edge of the table while I take my time reading it through. Her eyes are lit with anticipation behind her g
lasses. “It makes so much sense!” she exclaims the second I look up.

  “Why does it have to be so confusing if it’s translated for our benefit?” I ask. “I mean, if it’s going to turn it into English, why not just spit it out instead of all the mumbo jumbo?”

  Shona’s pitying look makes me back down. “Because, Joshua, there is no exact translation from the language it was originally written in. This is as good as it gets. But don’t you see? This is where all the rumors and prophecies come from. Look.” She points at the page, indicating I should read.

  “‘Herald of the birds’ is the literal sign that happened when the One was chosen,” I offer the easy part.

  Shona nods approvingly. “Exactly! And ‘Death names him, Hell claims him’ means he must murder before Hell can claim his soul. See?”

  “Yeah, I get that part.”

  Shona continues, “‘Heaven cannot touch him, for he is the harbinger of the Day of Judgment.’ So we in Heaven can’t do anything. He’s meant to start the Day of Judgment. It has to be all him now.”

  I finish the text, “‘Through the One shall the fate of the Earth be written, for his blood sacrifice crowns the King of Hell.’”

  Shona jumps in. “So that’s what happens now. He—Noah—brings Lucifer’s rule to the Earth and sacrifices with blood to rain judgment in the End Times.” She taps her chin, deep in thought. “Doesn’t sound good, does it?”

  “So you’re saying there’s nothing I can do. I can’t touch Noah, and he’s about to bring a bloodbath to the Earth.”

  Shona’s elated face melts, and her shoulders slump forward. “I’m so sorry, Joshua.”

  “Well it doesn’t say Hell can’t influence Noah’s choice.” Maybe Grace was onto something when she said she could reach him if she fell. But the problem, as always, is Lucifer. He won’t let Grace get close enough or give her the time she needs to talk to Noah. If that would even work.

  “So there’s still hope,” Shona states.

  “I want more than hope. I want a plan of action.” I picture Grace and that dude in the hotel room. I can’t let that stand. I have to do something.

  “Josh,” Shona warns, somehow reading my mind. Maybe I’m just transparent when it comes to my feelings for Grace. “We’ve already made progress. We have to keep to Grace’s plan, or we can’t succeed. Trust her to be fine.”

  And there it is. Trust her. It’s exactly what Grace asked of me before she left. I agreed. I have to trust her no matter how difficult it may be. Even if it means not saving her.

  But can I do it?

  I groan, leaning back in the heavy chair that looks like it ought to be from the Middle Ages. “Why is trust so damn hard?” I ask.

  The library door swings open, and Mr. Griffith strides in.

  “Josh?”

  “Shocked I’m at the library?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. I don’t want him to know what we’re doing—that we’re still investigating ways to help both Noah and Grace. He might command us to stop because he’s so convinced it’s a waste of time, and, though I’d plow on ahead anyway, I need Shona’s help, and I can’t count on her to disobey him directly.

  I notice that the book is no longer on the table or anywhere to be seen, and Shona won’t acknowledge my gaze. Maybe she’s afraid she’ll give something away. I suppose most Angels aren’t good at lying.

  “Happy to see you here, actually.” Mr. Griffith recovers with a warm smile, clapping his hands together. “You’ve been hiding in your room—not that I don’t understand. Anyway, this is perfect because I need to speak to both of you. Shona, I’m going to need you on training duty at the gates a bit sooner than I originally anticipated. I’ve made it mandatory for all Angels to focus on greeting now that the End Times have arrived. I’m grateful that you’ve accepted the situation, Josh. I know it must have been hard for you.”

  My mouth drops open.

  “It still is hard, I’m sure. But you’re doing the right thing coming to Shona. She can help train you to greet as well. You mustn’t blame yourself for the way things worked out. You couldn’t have known. Lucifer fooled us all.”

  Mr. Griffith pats me on the back.

  I’m speechless. I want to argue and shake him until he wakes up and decides to fight this. But now that I’ve seen the prophecy firsthand, I get where he’s coming from. Still, it’s only words on paper. We can’t just give up because of that.

  “Well I’ll let you get back to it, then. Shona, if Josh isn’t comfortable at the gates yet, you can start training him as a greeter here. Josh, you can always come and chat with me if that would help make you more comfortable.”

  Shona strains to put a smile on her face, but Griffith’s head is elsewhere, so he doesn’t notice. He nods before swishing out the door in his golden robes.

  “Wow,” I begin. “Now we don’t have to lie or hide. He gave us his blessing to work with each other.” I rub my hands together.

  “I think perhaps I ought to go to the gates for awhile and do at least a bit of my job. You think about the wording of the prophecy and see if we missed something.”

  I’d argue that it felt pretty final and there wasn’t much to work around, but Shona’s already dismissed me with a wave, and I know from experience that that means the conversation’s over for now. Her agreement to help me is tenuous at best, so I don’t argue.

  I need to check on Grace again, anyway.

  *

  Grace is still in her hotel room while Keira and the dude named Randy laugh and drink in the Jacuzzi. At least they’re in bathing suits—not that Keira’s covers all that much. I hate her. I want to go down there just long enough to touch her and turn her to ashes. But then I remember how it felt when I really did hurt her finger and how I wanted to take it back.

  I’m filled with hate, but it isn’t for Keira. It’s for myself. For not doing something. And why am I not doing something? Is it really because Grace told me not to? Or is it because I’m scared that if I’m within ten feet of Grace I’ll lose all self-control and we’ll repeat the same mistake I made when I made her fall the first time? Damn it!

  I’m about to say to Hell with it: going down there is better than doing nothing and protecting Grace is the most important thing, when Grace lets go of the pillow she’s hugging and stands up, determined.

  She throws open the door, and both Keira and Randy stop to stare.

  “I’m going to go downstairs for awhile. I’ve had enough of this stuffy room.”

  “I was hoping you’d join us. There’s plenty of room for one more,” Keira coos.

  Grace shoots her a look. “It takes a lot to impress me,” she says, speaking directly to Randy. She stalks toward him, leaning over the edge of the spa with such a sexy look that I can feel the heat from up here and I’m frozen in place with longing and fear because she’s directing it at another guy.

  “Guys who party all day in the Jacuzzi might be fun for a moment. But guys who are clever? Guys who actually do something to impress me? Those are the kind of guys I like to invest my time in.”

  She blows him a kiss, and they both watch as she swishes her way out of the room.

  I sit down on the still-broken couch.

  Tommy Two whines a little.

  “I know,” I agree. “Our Grace is amazing.” She’s outshining Keira at her own job by luring the guy to get up and do whatever it is Lucifer wants while managing to keep her dignity.

  The dog barks and waits, panting, ears raised in question.

  “I don’t know why I doubted her. I was scared I guess. But you’re right, TT. It’s time I held up my end of the bargain and did something from up here before she runs out of options down there.” Sooner or later, Lucifer will stop leaving wiggle room when he asks her to do something. She’ll have to make a choice between bad and worse, and I know how much of a “choice” you get when it comes to Lucifer. I wince, recalling with vivid memory the pain of Hellfire consuming my body.

  There has to be a way around t
he prophecy. There just has to be.

  Chapter 5

  Noah

  Lucifer is beginning to irritate me about as often as he freaks me out. If this is what it feels like to have a father’s doting attention, then I’ve been after the wrong thing all this time. The dude won’t even leave me alone long enough to play basketball. It’s all, “practice manipulating this person”, and “learn about the politics of this region”, and other boring bullshit.

  “Can’t you just zap the knowledge into my head or something?” I ask, shutting the door to my magic closet behind the pizza delivery guy. I toss the grease-stained box onto the coffee table and flip it open so I can dig in.

  “You should be interested in these things, Noah. You can’t rule without understanding who your subjects are.”

  “Pizza?” I offer, my mouth full of pepperoni.

  Lucifer wrinkles his nose in disgust. “No. Thank you. I’ll tell you what: if you can name every country in the Middle East, I’ll treat you to lunch in Italy.”

  I sigh. “Look, I get it, okay? I’m not stupid. I know this stuff is important, and FYI, I do know my geography, but I want to do something proactive already. I’m going stir-crazy cooped up in here.” I move to the window and glance out at the same old neighborhood, the same old street I grew up staring at. It’s not that I literally want to spread mayhem or rain down terror or something like they used to teach us in Sunday school, but there are fun parts to ruling, too, right? Like getting the final say and having people’s undying devotion. If I were king right now, I’d spend the day impressing Keira by having the world’s greatest artists make a diamond statue of us while we dined on steak and wine. Then we’d—

  “I suppose you’re right,” Lucifer concedes, and I have to turn around to make sure I heard him right. “You really are my Earthly counterpart, aren’t you, Noah? I, too, felt that way when I began Hell. I knew it was time to do something and not just let chaos reign.” He comes over and puts an arm around my shoulder.