“God? No, not at all, child. I am the Prince of Pride. I am the Morning Star. My name is Lucifer.”
29
My heart lurched as Lucifer took a single step towards me. Where his foot landed, more of the pink flowers bloomed. When he took his next step, those same flowers shriveled, dead in an instant. I scrambled away, stumbling and falling on my butt. Lucifer laughed.
“Do not be afraid. I saved you, didn’t I? I have no reason to hurt you. In fact, I’m only here to thank you.”
Yeah, none of that helped. This was Lucifer. Fucking Lucifer, the Morning Star himself. Angels and archangels and demon princes, well and good – but this guy, this guy was all of those things rolled into one. Six wings, man. Six fucking wings. Game over.
“Th-thank me for what?”
“For that.” Lucifer cast a finger across the rooftop, at the squirming, writhing pile of agony and screams that used to be Belphegor. “And for finding my sword, of course. It’s been very naughty, hiding from me like that. And you were even naughtier, stealing it from my armories in the first place. Very naughty indeed.” He tutted and waved one chiding finger, then stretched his hand out. “I believe that belongs to me.”
My hand shook as I lifted the blade and offered it to the King of Hell. I heard no objections from Royce, Maharani, Florian, Artemis, or Quilliam. Certainly not from Belphegor, who probably didn’t even have enough of a mouth left to protest with. Listen, if Lucifer wanted to, he could have easily annihilated everyone in that garden – and the building, and probably the whole city block, if he felt like it. I wasn’t about to play games.
He sighed as his fingers made contact with the blade, and I watched in horror as the sword entered, tip-first, through his wrist, sheathing itself inside his arm. Within moments the sword was gone, completely absorbed by Lucifer’s body. He shook his glorious mane of hair, sighing pleasurably. As if it was somehow possible, his skin glowed even more.
“Ah. Much better.” He lowered his eyes to look at me, giving me a smile that was somehow menacing and warm, all at once. “It’s a good thing you were so easy to find.”
My forehead furrowed in confusion, then I stared down at my wrist, silently cursing Beatrice Rex for making me a lemon. “Damn it,” I muttered under my breath.
“Don’t be so disappointed. It’s a trinket, as good as a bauble. Just a strip of leather. Nothing but dead skin to me. It might hide you from my lessers, but how could anyone really hope to hide from me, of all people? Besides, what really piqued my interest was my sword coming to life.”
I raised my arm at him, showing him the back of my wrist. “You – you can see that?”
Lucifer laughed again. “I see everything, dear boy. I see, for example, that you are slowly and surely coming into your own as a little princeling.” He folded his arms, his eyes drifting over my body appraisingly, and gave me a wide smile. “Your father would be most proud of you – nephew.”
His mention of that princeling thing alone should have made me shudder. But – but nephew?
I knew in my heart of hearts that Belphegor would betray us some day. It was inevitable. I only hated that I didn’t prepare for it to happen. Never trust a demon, but especially not a demon prince. Mom did always say to be careful of the company I kept. I looked across the gardens, finding the faces of the meager family I’d built for myself, of the tenuous, perhaps temporary alliances I’d formed with the Lorica, with my nemesis.
But now, here I was, owing a debt of gratitude to the Devil himself.
Lucifer lowered his arms, again turning in place, flowers blooming and dying in his wake as he approached Belphegor’s remains. “And now to attend to business.”
A sound like sobbing emanated from Belphegor’s ruined body, the pile of bone and gore writhing as Lucifer came closer. I took the opportunity to back the hell up, bumping into the huddle of bodies that was my friends, plus the Lorica – a whole gaggle of them, Royce’s newly arrived support team. Florian dug his fingers into my shoulder, and he hugged me in welcome. I squeezed him back, not even caring that I was getting dirt and soil all over what was left of my clothes.
We turned to watch as Lucifer knelt, extending his hand towards the sludge of Belphegor’s body. He bent closer, whispering and incanting before touching the mess of gore and bone with the tip of his finger. White light pulsed. Lucifer rose to his feet.
And then it began.
Belphegor screamed as his twisted body rearranged itself, a baleful, hellish magic stitching his pieces back into something almost humanoid again. He stared down at himself, at the palms of his hands, marveling as his fingers locked back into place, as nails grew over young, new skin. Within a matter of seconds, Belphegor had gone from a pile of dying meat to the three-eyed stoner teenager I knew and loved to hate.
“Bless you,” Belphegor said, naked and newborn, sobbing as he crawled on all fours to Lucifer’s feet. “Lucifer, bless you. Thank you. I am forever in your debt. Forever in your service.”
“Groveling does not become you, brother.” Lucifer stretched out his fingers, studying them with the professional interest of a manicurist. “And neither does lying. That’s Beelzebub’s territory. Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
Belphegor froze, his voice suddenly stuck in his throat, caught there like a little bird. He whimpered. “No. I didn’t do anything wrong. My plan didn’t work, so I didn’t. Didn’t do it. No harm done. Nothing.”
Lucifer tutted, bending forward at the hip, laying one hand on Belphegor’s forehead. The Prince of Sloth trembled, his face glazed in cold sweat, little tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
“Please, Lucifer. You must understand. I didn’t mean to. I only wanted to show my worth. Everyone laughs at Sloth. Nobody takes my kingdom seriously. I’m the weakest. I’m the smallest.” It might have been a trick of the light, but Belphegor did seem to shrink as he whimpered. My chest twinged as he sobbed, but I steeled myself again. It was hard no
t to feel so sorry for him. “I’m the weakest,” he repeated, snot dribbling down his face. “I’m the smallest.”
“What’s that line the humans like to feed each other?” Lucifer turned to me, his hand still absently caressing Belphegor’s skin. “Ah. The meek shall inherit the earth. That’s the one. Contextually, it does have its applications.” He went to his knees, gathering Belphegor’s cheeks in both hands, lifting his face by the chin. Belphegor quivered, his eyes huge in terror, his entire body coated in sweat. “But that doesn’t apply today.”
“Please. Lucifer. Please.”