“Stop, I know,” Lucifer spoke with an audible smile. “You are adorable, I keep forgetting hownewyou both are.”
They entered the scene a moment behind the Michael of the past, who broke the edge of the tree line fast and furious.
“One is not enough? You need them both?” He nearly roared, bearing down on the two men where they hunched together over rolls of parchment. Adam swiftly rolled the papers and tossed them beneath a nearby bush.
“Sorry, what?” Lucifer’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“You know, I always did wonder what the hell you meant by that.” The Devil murmured under his breath.
“Don’t feign innocence with me!” Michael snapped. “Look at the two of you, cozy here in your secret space. Is Eve not enough?!”
The scene was, admittedly, rather compromising. The gazebo was shrouded by the gentle ivy that had been climbing its walls for centuries. A pale cloth, laden with platters of fresh fruit and sliced bits of cheese, laid over the table. A carafe of wine sat in a bowl of slowly melting ice. And in the center of it all, the two men bent with heads close together, laughing about orgies.
“Mikha’el, you’re rambling like a madman,” Lucifer protested. “What are you talking about?”
“You think me a fool,” Michael spat, advancing on them slowly.
“I think you areactingfoolish, at the least.”
Adam rose slowly from the bench he sat on, and all eyes turned to him—or at least to the odd cluster of leaves that he wore as some sort of belt.
“Mikha’el, great warrior,” he began to plead, and Michael thrust a hand between them, palm flat in a universal gesture.
“Stop.”
Adam stilled so quickly he almost fell backwards, his eyes wide with alarm.
“That name is not for the masses.”
“I beg your forgiveness.”
“You do not receive it.”
Adam recoiled completely this time, shrinking in on himself with a stricken look on his face at the rebuke. Michael wondered if this was the first time someone had treated the newly minted being with anything other than deference and wonder.
The air hung taut. Lucifer cleared his throat. “Are you going to explain yourself?”
“Areyou?” Michael retorted. “Such sweet settings, and a mention of mutiny. I find myself for want of some elaboration.”
A weighty pause. Even the world around them seemed to still, hanging on their every word. And then Lucifer made a choice that would have repercussions echoing across centuries.
“No.”
“So be it.”
And Michael drew his blazing sword.
The lights had been dimmed as far as Gabe could get them, and taper candles flickered at either side of the bed. Foster watched him lay out various pieces of their impromptu spell kit, relentless doubt gnawing at the edges of his gut. Doing the right thing wasn’t supposed to feel this terrible, was it?
Gabe hummed a vaguely familiar tune as he worked, settling the spheres of selenite and amethyst against the pillow on either side of Sra. Delgado’s throat. Foster realized he was humming “If You’re Happy and you Know It” and recoiled slightly.
“Really? Of all songs?”
“I’m trying to stay positive. Maybe she can sense the mood.”
“It’s poor fucking taste.”
“Sure.” Gabe stopped humming. “Pass me the bone powder, and the Gospel.”
