For a long moment, Michael debated turning and leaving. He had been kidnapped, tied to a chair, his wings were broken, and he had very nearly been smothered and cut in half. Any sane person would be running for the door, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so. He could be halfway through the estate before Lucifer realized what was happening.
But while Michael was certainly sane, he was also extremely curious. If he walked away now, when the answers were literally a few steps away, could he ever forgive himself? A part of him had been aching for centuries, blaming himself but then wondering if he was truly in the wrong. This could lay all that doubt to rest, once and for all.
As if sensing his doubt, Lucifer’s head suddenly popped back through the portal. “What in Hell is taking you so long? I thought maybe you got lost.”
“I expect that happens more often in this room than I would hope,” Michael said dryly.
“Oh hush, we haven’t lost anyone in here since the 1600s…I think.”
“Comforting. I suppose, statistically, it’s safer to go through the doorway then.”
“Even if it isn’t safer, you can’t say it’s not more thrilling.”
There it was. The murky heart of their relationship. The duality that drew him ever towards this dark king, even while Michael knew Lucifer was nothing but trouble he didn’t need. And just as he always had, Michael threw aside his sense and stepped towards Lucifer, ready to follow him into the unknown.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The portal was different than others Michael had passed through before. Normally, using a Rift was akin to stepping through a lighted archway. Quick and easy, a brief flash of light before you stepped out into your new location.
This was like walking under a waterfall of color. It pressed on him like a curtain, shifting around him in shimmering waves of light and pressure. Wary but intrigued, Michael lifted his hands and tried to press against the flowing mass. It was warm, malleable, and utterly bizarre, bending away from his touch like wet clay.
Then the colors vanished, leaving him standing in a void of pure white, expanding as far as he could see. A shadow appeared before him, and then it solidified and darkened, resolving into the shape of Lucifer. “There you are.”
“Here I am.”
“We both need to focus on what we’re trying to see. Since there’s two of us, it should be easier, but technically there’s also a greater chance that we could mess it up.”
“Oh, that’s very reassuring.”
Luce narrowed his eyes. “The sass isn’t necessary. Just think back to…that day. Remember it, embrace it, and try to picture it in your mind’s eye as clearly as you can.”
Thinking about that day was always painful, and one of Michael’s least favorite things to do. At first, he had tormented himself intentionally, dwelling and obsessing over every hint or sign he could have missed. He had lost the taste for it with time and gentle support from Raphael and Uriel. But it meant he didn’t have to focus very hard to draw up the memory in vivid detail.
A soft wind stirred up around them, and Michael closed his eyes. He thought about the way the Garden had always smelled, wild and warm and faintly sweet. He imagined the lilies and ferns bending gently beneath his fingertips as he walked along the dirt path, hands trailing into the foliage. He recalled the sun, warm and soothing where it kissed and reddened his tanned skin. The call of birds in the distance, the soft bubble of water in the creek that wound through the orchards… It felt like he was back in that place, truly.
He opened his eyes and found Eden laid out before him. Unlike the slightly muted and biased recollections he had been left with over the years, this was a riot of vivid color and light. He turned and flinched backwards at the sight of…himself. Younger, clad in armor they hadn’t used for several millennia, and facing away from where they had appeared at the edge of the garden’s gate.
Michael practically dove behind a tree to avoid being seen, peeking around the edge of the trunk just in time to see Jophiel approaching his past self. Lucifer eyed him with a smirk, remaining boldly in the center of the path.
“What are you doing?”
Michael’s eyes bulged as he shushed him, frantically gesturing toward the two angels exchanging greetings only a few yards away.
“They can’t hear or see us,” Luce laughed. “I would have warned you if being seen was going to be an issue.”
“Oh…” Feeling sheepish, Michael rose from his crouch in the bushes and rubbed the back of his burning neck. He could feel an identical flush tainting his cheeks and averted his gaze so he wouldn’t have to see Luce laughing at him.
“Come on, you big idiot,” Luce tugged at his elbow, then dropped it like a hot stone. He coughed, a flush dusting his own cheeks as he led the way forward. What the hell was he doing, behaving so casually with the other man? “We’re just in time. Let’s settle this debate once and for all.”
Michael turned his gaze back to his younger self. He remembered this, of course, but he hadn’t expected to see himself looking…like that. Soyoung, so bold and sure of himself. How would it feel, to be that confident and steadfast again? How would it feel to know, without a doubt, that he was on the right path?
He shifted his gaze to the man beside him and realized that feeling of certainty and security had been lost when Luce had. He closed his eyes tight. Another brief tug at his elbow and he opened them, waving Luce off.
“I’m fine. Just…surprised to see myself from the outside, I suppose.”
“It can be an adjustment.” Luce leaned in, eyes narrowing as he watched Jophiel drop a hand heavily onto Michael’s shoulder. He snapped his fingers and everything froze, as if on pause. “Let’s get closer, I can’t hear shit.”
“He’s telling me?—”
