Christina Henry - Black Lament

Evangeline, my crazy ancestor who’d started everything by falling in love with Lucifer millennia ago. She’d been kidnapped by Lucifer’s enemies while pregnant with his children. The archangel Michael had found Evangeline and convinced her that he could keep the twins safe from her lover’s enemies. Michael had covered Lucifer’s presence so thoroughly that the Morningstar never found the children of Evangeline, or the descendants of those children. Until he found me, daughter of Katherine Black, last direct descendant of Evangeline’s line.

He had other offspring, of course. I didn’t know how many. Two of his sons had been insane monsters, and they’d both tried to kill me. I wasn’t in a big hurry to meet any more of Lucifer’s progeny.

“Wouldn’t Azazel have known I was pregnant?” I asked. “I am of his line, too.”

“If he knew, it would only have made him angrier than he already was about your marriage,” Beezle said. “He was never happy with your inability to fall in line.”

“I wasn’t very interested in being a good little soldier for a father who never acted like one,” I snapped.

“And you don’t need to get angry with me about it,” Beezle said mildly. “I’m on your side.”

I rubbed my forehead in the place where a headache was starting to form. “I’m sorry, Beezle. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“About anything,” I said. “I just want to go to sleep and never wake up. I don’t want to face the day. I don’t want to get up in the morning knowing that Gabriel’s not here.”

I was crying again. I couldn’t seem to stop.

“And the baby?” Beezle looked very grave.

“There is a part of me that’s happy,” I said, wiping my face. “A small part. But the bigger part of me is scared, because I know that if I live long enough to deliver this child, he will have a target on his back for the rest of his life. Every enemy that Lucifer has will be after this baby.”

When I thought about it that way, my future looked overwhelming. Was I ever to have a normal relationship with this child, or would I always be on the run, always fending off new threats?

“You’ve got to secure a future for the baby now,” Beezle said. “You can’t wait until the demons are at your door. You have to find a way to make sure he is protected.”

I stared at him. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

“Make a pact with Lucifer,” he said. “Now, while you can still dictate your own terms.”

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this,” I said. “You know that I don’t want to be another one of Lucifer’s pawns. Besides, he wants the baby for himself. I can’t trust him.”

“No, you can’t trust him,” Beezle said. “But if you wait until you have no other option for the child’s safety, then Lucifer will make you pay more dearly than you can imagine.”

“Did you have to tell me this today?” I said tiredly. “Don’t I have enough to worry about already?”

“Your problems won’t go away just because you want to put a pillow over your head and pretend they’re not there,” Beezle said.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” I said grimly. “My problems never seem to go away no matter what I do. They just grow and multiply like gremlins.”

We both sat in silence for a few moments, contemplating the sad truth of this statement. Every time I attempted to extricate myself from the fallen, I found that I’d gained more enemies and more entanglements than I had before.

Subtlety is not my best thing. Politics requires a delicate hand. Those qualities are stock-in-trade for the fallen. I’m more of a hack-and-slash-and-then-burn-it-all-to-the-ground kind of girl.

I pushed to my feet, and Beezle fluttered up to the kitchen counter. I stood there for a moment, feeling lost.

“Food,” Beezle reminded me.

“Yes, food,” I said.

I opened the refrigerator door and looked in. There was absolutely nothing in it—not even a jar of mayonnaise.

“When was the last time I went shopping?” I wondered.

“The day that you and Gabriel followed Amarantha’s ghost to the park,” Beezle said.

“Well, that was… a while ago,” I said, trying to count backward and failing. “I guess I have to go to the store.”

“And I’ll come with you,” Beezle said.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“What? No protest? No smart remark about my being a home guardian?” Beezle asked.

“You can come if you want,” I said tiredly. I couldn’t think of any smart remarks. I just wanted to get through this task so that I could eat something and go back to sleep.

I shuffled down the hall, pulled on my boots and coat, stuffed some cash in my pocket.

“Are you coming?” I asked, turning to Beezle.

He hovered in the hallway, watching me with an indefinable expression on his face.

“You can’t wander around in a fog like this forever,” he said.

“I know,” I said softly.

I did know. Sooner or later, the world would come knocking at my door. Sooner or later, some enemy would appear, some new threat would manifest, and I’d have to wake the hell up and deal with it. But not now. Not yet.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Beezle landed on my shoulder, and we went out the door without another word.

Beezle took advantage of my total lack of energy and convinced me that we needed a lot of junk food that neither one of us should be eating. I was too tired to argue so I just bought whatever he pointed at, paid for it and trudged home.

I had my head down, watching my boots pushing through the snow, and wasn’t thinking of anything in particular except more sleep.

We were almost to the front porch when Beezle tapped me on the shoulder.

“Maddy,” he said. His voice was urgent.

I looked up. There was a figure standing in the shadows on the front porch. Someone tall, wearing an overcoat…

“Gabriel?” I said, my heart thundering in my chest.

“No,” the person said, and stepped into the light.

It was Nathaniel.

“You,” I snarled.

I dropped the grocery bags in the snow and charged up the steps. Nathaniel put his arms up in the air, stepped backward, but he was too slow and I was too angry.

I put my shoulder into his stomach, heard his hard exhalation as the breath went out of him. I tackled him down to the porch, kneeling with my legs on either side of his chest, and punched him in the face.

“You,” I repeated. All I could see was Nathaniel’s face under a haze of red.

I felt him struggle, try to push me off, but his arms were locked tight against the side of his body. He should have been able to move me. He was an angel, and I was only a half-blood. But I had a strength I’d never had before, a strength fueled by rage and betrayal.

My hands closed around his throat, squeezing tight. I pushed at the fragile accordion of his trachea, wanting to crush it to a pulp, wanting to kill him once and for all.

“Maddy!” Beezle shouted, but his voice sounded far away.

“Maddy, you’re going to kill him!”

“Yes,” I whispered, and when I looked at Nathaniel’s purpling face I saw Azazel’s malicious grin as he pushed his sword into Gabriel’s heart.

Nathaniel bucked hard, trying to throw me off again, his eyes wide and desperate.

Another pair of hands covered mine, peeled my fingers off Nathaniel’s throat with unnatural strength.

“No!” I said, clawing at Nathaniel’s neck, drawing blood, trying to renew my grip.

Those same arms surrounded me, pulled me from Nathaniel, carried me backward as I kicked and screamed like a madwoman.

“Samiel, no!” I shouted. “Put me down! Let me be!”