Extinguish (19 page)

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Authors: J. M. Darhower

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Extinguish
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Lucifer let out a sigh, tickling her skin as he nuzzled into her neck. He placed a soft, chaste kiss near her ear as he whispered, "Thank you, angel."

Fierce wind shook the room, extinguishing the candles, as the energy in her body seemed to purge from her in a whoosh, taking the breath from her lungs. Lucifer pried himself away from her in another crack of thunder. In the glow of the lightning, Serah could see the massive shadows on the floor where Lucifer’s black wings had erupted from his back. She forced herself off the table and spun around, eyes wide as she took in the sight before her.

Lucifer’s tanned skin glowed orange, the sigils and markings on his chest and arms pulsating just like they had when he struck the gate. But now, instead of burning brighter, reining him in, forcing the creature back into his prison, condemning him from ever hurting an innocent soul, the black markings glowed orange, gradually blending into his skin.

Serah blinked rapidly, her breathing accelerated as Lucifer slowly lifted off the ground, hovering in the air in front of her. He tilted his head back as a ball of light erupted from his chest, so bright and intense Serah had to shield her eyes and look away. It was as if his entire body had become engulfed in flames.

When the brightness faded, she peered over at him, meeting his eyes. They were bright blue, vibrant and crisp, swirling like the lake they’d gone swimming in together. She was so caught up in his eyes, so entranced by his inhuman Archangel beauty—the chisel of his jaw, the immense wingspan, the dimples around his soft smirk—that she nearly didn’t notice his skin was now free and clear of markings.

Her Grace, she realized.
She'd given herself to him. She’d healed his wounds as it surged through his body, replenishing him like Michael had done to her countless times. Terror ran through her, seizing her now-beating heart as she frantically shook her head, not wanting to believe it. Lucifer just stared at her, not an ounce of surprise in his expression. He’d known it would happen.

It had been his plan all along.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, the blue fading back to darkness. "So fucking sorry."

In another clap of thunder, he was gone. Serah stared at the spot he’d occupied seconds ago, horrified, mortified, as she wrapped her arms tightly around her chest, trying to hold herself together. The ground rumbled viciously, cracking, opening up as flames erupted from below. The loud shrieks of agony tore through the air as everything started to collapse in on
itself, the King of Hell no longer there to contain anything.

Without realizing it, she’d freed the monster from his cage.

Four

 

"What have you done?"

The low, venomous voice was so close the hair on the back of Serah's neck stood on end. She slowly turned around, coming face-to-face with Michael in the shadows of the woods of Hellum Township.

Serah could sense it was early morning, a few hours past sunrise, but the day was as dark as a stormy midnight. Red had seeped into the sky, thick bloody clouds blocking out all sunlight. Mere minutes had passed since she'd stood in that fateful room with Lucifer, but it seemed as if a lifetime had withered away on Earth. Everything was dry and brittle, a drought ravishing the land, while the air was stale with a musky, foul odor.

Had it always been that way?

"I can hear your heart," Michael pressed, "a heart that shouldn't beat!"

"I made a mistake."

"A mistake?" Michael raised his eyebrows in sync with his voice. "You unleashed Hell on Earth!"

"I didn't know Lucifer—"

"He's Satan!" Michael screeched, stepping closer, rage clouding his face. "You allowed the devil to seduce you!"

"Forgive me," she whispered, a lone tear streaming down her cheek.

Michael's cold, hard stare burned through her. "No."

A roar cut through the woods as the trees around them bent and snapped. Evil brushed against her skin, bouncing off of her, flying right by, as souls spilled out from the gates, left wide-open in Lucifer's wake.

Or Satan's, Serah thought.
Maybe Lucifer didn't exist at all.

Angels descended upon the area, apparating in packs as they rushed through, trying to stop anything more from escaping. Michael stepped away from Serah as her brothers and sisters appeared, prepared for battle, not a single one acknowledging her.

"You should say your peace," Michael said, a staunch detachment in his voice. "This won't end well for you, miscreant."

Miscreant
. The word was like a knife thrust through Serah's tight chest.

Michael vanished, joining the others. He was the one who had locked Satan inside in the first place, so he alone would know how to reseal the gate. Devastation struck Serah as she dropped to her knees, doubling over in sobs.

She'd done this.

"Samuel," she cried. "I need you."

Static popped right in front of her. She looked up, irrationally seeking out her lost brother, but found Hannah standing there instead. Hannah frowned, grabbing Serah's arm and yanking her to her feet.

"Pull yourself together," she said, her voice hard, but there was no anger in her expression. "We can't have you in pieces right now."

"I did it," Serah said. "It was me."

"I know. We all know. The moment it happened—the moment he
rose—the magnetic pole shifted majorly. It’s going to be difficult to reverse this—if we even can."

She blinked rapidly. "I triggered the apocalypse."

"Yes, which means you're somehow integral to how this all plays out."

"I'm nothing. I succumbed to the snake's temptation. I unleashed Satan."

"You were enchanted by Lucifer." Hannah sighed, shaking her head. "He was an Archangel, Ser, the most glorious one ever created. I can't fault you for falling for him."

Falling for him.

"I am," she whispered. "Literally."

A rush of black shadows whipped past then, blanketing the land as far as the eyes could see. The oxygen seemed to be sucked from the atmosphere as Serah gasped painfully, struggling for air.

"Michael released the reapers," Hannah said, watching the morbid creatures as they descended upon Earth. "It's only a matter of time before they track him down."

"Then what?" Serah asked.

"You know the prophecy—Satan will be destroyed once and for all." Her gaze turned to Serah again. "Michael's coming. You need to get out of here."

"Where am I to go?"

"Wherever you feel safe," Hannah said. "Once the dragon is slayed, he'll see things clearly. I'm certain of it."

Serah wasn't so sure.

 

The apocalypse.
The end of days.

The world didn't end in an hour. It didn't end in a day. In fact, it didn't end at all. Most corners of the planet remained oblivious to the Hell sweeping through the land. As water supplies were poisoned, the air tainted, crops dying, it was business as usual in the mortal realm. They went to school, went to work; they studied and took tests, held meetings and conducted business, adapting instinctively to the perilous conditions.

Global Warming was blamed, as was a fictional Mother Nature. The storm of the century was upon them, they said, as they hunkered down and waited for it to all eventually blow over.

Serah laid low—out of sight, out of mind—as the angels fought to contain the mess she'd made. Creatures of all sorts had spilled through the gate, stepping foot onto Earth for the first time: vampires, werewolves, even the fairies. The supernatural realm had exploded, led by a horde of demons that had broken free.

It was as they'd expected Armageddon to be—worse in some ways—but something was distinctly missing.

And that something was Satan.

A week passed. Seven days of turmoil, and the angels had the fighting somewhat contained to America. Serah watched from a distance as vile monsters fell, one by one being locked back in their cages, but it didn't escape her notice that their leader was nowhere to be found. Not one reported sighting, not a single incident.

 

Serah locked herself down in the closed community center in Chorizon, watching it all unfold from a distance. She'd been alone all week, surrounded by absolute silence and stillness. She was watching out the window on the eighth morning near dawn, hoping against hope that the sun would manage to find a way through the ruddy clouds today, when something shifted in the room behind her.

She went to turn around, but she was too late.

A thick arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her in place, as a hand instantly clamped down over her mouth. Her body was violently pulled back into another, a vaguely familiar aroma filtering into her bloodstream. She tried to fight the attacker off, but she was still somewhat weakened, and they were too strong.

"Relax, angel," a soft voice said. "I'm not here to hurt you."

She fought harder at the sound of the voice, only breaking free because he voluntarily loosened his hold. Spinning around, she stepped back swiftly. "Satan."

His face contorted, his lip curling as he bared his teeth. "I’ve told you not to call me that."

"It’s what you are!"

He stepped toward her, eliciting a retreat from her. She pressed her back against the cold glass of the window. He froze, raising his hands defensively. "Look, I know you’re angry—"

"Angry?" she hissed. "I’m furious! You used me! You knew this would happen!"

"I did," he admitted, "but it’s not that black and white."

"It is," she insisted. "I was a fool to think otherwise. You, Satan, mean to annihilate the world."

"I do," he admitted again, "but like I said—not that black and white."

"You’ve infected me," she spat. "The numbers may not be singed into my skin, but the mark of the beast is on me now."

"
You're being dramatic," he said. "I did nothing without your permission. You gave yourself to me."

"You coerced me!"

"Bullshit!" he spat as he stepped toward her, not deterred this time when she tried to slip away. He slammed his hands against the windowpane, his face mere inches from hers. "You wanted it. You
still
want it. I can smell the desire on you, sense it inside of you, begging for more release."

"You lie!"

"I do," he said, "but not about this."

"I hate you!"

"Maybe so, but you still want me. You still need me. Dare I say, there may even be a part of you deep down inside that actually
cares
for me."

"Never!"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Now who’s the liar, angel?"

Lucifer inched forward, tilting his head, preparing to kiss her. Serah slipped away before their lips could touch, ducking under his arm and dashing across the room, away from his grasp. Lucifer let out an exasperated sigh as he slowly turned to look at her.

"I’ll call for him," she threatened. "Take one step, and I’ll scream for Michael."

"He’ll kill us both."

"He will," Serah said. "But at least I’ll save the world from you."

She expected that to discourage him, but his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he took a calculated step in her direction.

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