Tim Marquitz - Echoes of the Past

He met my eyes and I saw him swallow, as though he were uncertain of what to say. He sat silent only a moment before he began. “I have lied to you.”

A strange sense of vindication welled up inside me, though I couldn’t place its source. I stayed quiet and let him speak.

“It has always been Lucifer’s wish that you rule in his stead. Of that, I spoke only the truth, but there is more to that desire.”

My stomach sank into my boots. It felt like a crevice was opening up, threatening to devour me.

“Lucifer loved your mother as he has loved no other. He won her from Arol long before you were led to believe. It was Arol’s jealousy that fueled much of their later battles, Charlotte the prize between them. It was this jealousy that brought about your mother’s death.” He cleared his throat as I sat there numb. “Lucifer’s love for your mother is his love for you. It is his desire, as it has always been, that Hell be ceded to you, and thus he wills it through me. Embrace your true destiny, Triggaltheron, and make Lucifer proud…” He drew in a deep, pained breath. “…make your father proud.”

The word hit me hard, and I fell onto my ass.

Black didn’t give me time to think, let alone say anything. “We need to go, now. The longer we wait, the less likely he is to survive.”

A million questions crashed against my brainpan. I knew I had to let them take Baalth if there was a chance for him to live. I met the demon lieutenant’s eyes and mustered a tiny nod. Black and White reached out to grab him. He stopped them once more as they groaned in annoyance.

Baalth snaked a skeletal arm past them and laid his palm against Poe’s face. He stayed silent a moment, staring at his mentalist with sorrowed eyes, gently caressing his cheek. He whispered something I couldn’t hear, and eased his hand away a moment later. A quiet sigh slipping loose, he nodded. Black and White lifted him gently into their arms. They were gone before I could blink.

Alone, with only Poe’s corpse to keep me company, I felt the weight of the world fall over me. I lay back into the rubble as nausea, elation, repulsion, joy, and disgust washed over me all at once. I wasn’t just the goofy nephew of Lucifer who he’d taken a shining to, but I was the Devil’s own; his son.

I couldn’t even fathom how that made me feel. It sure explained a hell of a lot. Why Lucifer had always been so protective, so demanding I take on the mantle of the Anti-Christ. He had wanted to carry on his line, but no one would take me seriously as ruler of Hell, born to a human mother.

That word: son. It explained everything. Then why did I feel so lost?

In one instant, I’d gone from the happy-go-lucky nephew who’d been all about fucking around, and now I was the scion of Hell; its ruler. There was responsibility that came with the position, an expectation I couldn’t imagine living up to. My head throbbed just thinking about it.

I was the new Devil, nothing remotely the same as the old Devil.

And there was Karra. Shit. How would she take the news she wasn’t in a relationship with someone kind of related to Lucifer, but his own son? The guy who killed her father, who basically chased her out of Hell, was my dad. Thanks, Pops.

“What the Fraggle do I do now?”

There wasn’t anyone left alive to give me an answer.

I promised Baalth I would see to Poe, so that seemed like as good a place to start as any. It would at least keep me occupied for a bit; keep me from dwelling on things. You wouldn’t think a little shift between nephew and son would make a major difference in how a guy felt, but damn, you’d be wrong. It changed everything.

There were other things to worry about, though. Scarlett was still missing, as far as I knew, and Poe was dead. Scarlett didn’t usually need me to help her, so that left me some time to deal with Poe. It certainly wasn’t my first choice of entertainment.

I knew I’d be taking a risk popping back to Earth to take him home, but he deserved a decent burial, and I didn’t think it fair to make him wait for it. Given all that was going on, I couldn’t guarantee to be around long enough to put it off. I wrapped him up in one of the blankets from Asmoday’s old bed, and made my way to the closest portal. It was a good thing Baalth always had a portable gate set up wherever his minions were hanging out, just in case they needed a quick exit. I knew where Baalth had been camped out today, so it was pretty easy to tune into the gate at the strip mall. With Poe in my arms, I’d be able to bypass the gate’s security wards without a problem, which was good. I didn’t much feel like being blown up again. Its charm wears off quickly.

So, off I went. Things worked out pretty smoothly, the gate bringing me into the comic book store without a problem, but I knew an even bigger obstacle loomed ahead: Marcus D’anatello. He’d been looking to put a bullet in me ever since I creased his skull with a 2x4. Seems he’s the type to hold a grudge. I mean, I also beat him nearly to death once, but I was really saving him when you factor everything in. That has to account for something, right?

In the back of the store, surrounded by geek goodness, the hum of the portal faded and there I stood with Poe’s dead body in my arms, most of my clothes missing. It couldn’t have looked good when Marcus came back to check on the gate. His gun-more specifically, my gun, which he’d stolen and was loaded with DA slayers-came up in a flash.

“You motherfucking piece of goat whore-“

As much as I wanted to hear where he was going with that, I had more important things to deal with. “I didn’t kill him, so back off, Marcus! I’m only bringing him home.” He met my eyes and I could see his finger dancing on the trigger. I’m not too proud to admit I hunkered down a little behind Poe’s body. “It was Baalth’s last wish,” I added.

While Marcus wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack-figure about 15 watts-he knew damn well I wouldn’t dare joke-to him, at least-about Baalth’s wishes, final or otherwise. He glared at me a moment, his hand shaking, before he lowered the gun. “Baalth’s dead?” The perpetual bark of his voice was tamed. What came out sounded more like a wounded puppy.

I shrugged. “He was seriously hurt, worse than I’ve ever seen him. He’s being taken to Lucifer, but it doesn’t look good. He wanted me to bring Poe home.”

He drew in a deep breath, nodded, and put the gun away. It made it clear he knew about the chamber in Hell and its intent because he didn’t question the part about my unc…my dad. He walked up to me and held his arms out. I looked at Poe’s peaceful face and said a silent goodbye, before passing him over to Marcus. The gorilla took him with reverence.

“We need to talk when this is all over, but are we cool for now?”

Marcus pulled his gaze from Poe and met mine. His eyes narrowed and his jaw stiffened, but he nodded, nevertheless. “I’ll let you know when the funeral will be.”

I started to thank Marcus when I felt a presence crash against my senses. “Shit!” I turned to D’anatello. “Get him out of here, now!”

Immersed in the supernatural life, despite being human, Marcus just reacted; no questions, no debate, no challenging me. He bolted for the gate and set his foot on it just I heard something monstrous crash into the front of the store. I reached over and snatched my stolen gun out of Marcus’ holster and willed the portal to life. I left the location for him to decide and ran for the front of the store. The gate activated at my back just as I got past all the piled collectibles and saw who’d come a knocking.

It was another blast from the very recent past. Given I’d seen Jorn already, her appearance wasn’t much of a surprise.