“I mean, I would frame you for something right now if it would get you out of my face, so I can’t say I disagree with the choice.”
“So cavalier with your venomous retorts, ha-ha yes, so witty.” Luce narrowed his eyes and leaned in, his breath hot against Foster’s face and making him flinch involuntarily back. “But if he was willing to betray me, who he followed so devoutly and loved so dearly, what will he do to you when you outlive your usefulness?”
“He loves me like ason,” Foster spat, relishing his father’s own recoil, “which is more than you ever did.”
“I adored you, always,” Luce snapped. “You aremyson, not Gabriel’s, and I have borne burdens for you that would crush him.”
“Not from my perspective,” the younger man snorted. “What burdens you’ve had to carry! Oh, it must besodifficult lounging around a castle while your son grieves and struggles alone!”
“My distance was my sacrifice!” Lucifer roared, gripping the arms of the chair so hard they splintered. Foster fell silent, shocked that he had coaxed such a reaction from his flippant father. “I was so afraid, so convinced I would ruin you, that I alienated you. I see now that I fed the very beast I meant to starve, and for that I curse myself a thousand times over. But that’s why I need you tounderstand.”
“Understand what?”
“This is what hewanted, Foster! This wedge between us, this animosity! It makes you easier to control.”
“Liar!” Foster surged up from the chair again, severing the bonds that had contained him. He flew at his father, caught off guard, and wrapped strong fingers around his throat. “Gabe has always taken care of me! He would never use me!”
“He was willing to risk yourlifein pursuit of power!” Luce pried at his hands, forcing them off his neck and tossing his son into the nearby wall. The apartment shook from the force, small chunks of charred plaster raining down on them. “What if you hadn’t been able to handle the surge?”
“Gabe knew that I could! He taught me to use my powers; he knows my limits!”
“He doesn’t care if you live or die!”
“You’re just jealous!” Foster came right back at his father, eyes glowing red with fury. “He’s a better father to me than you, just by showing up. And you can’t stand it.”
“I am a better man than Gabriel on myworstday,” Luce said coolly. “He corrupted two innocent souls in my name, lied under oath about it, made my lover complicit in my destruction,andhad a hand in the death of your mother.”
“Shut up!” The fury boiling in Foster’s veins rose to uncontrollable levels. At the callous mention of his mother, Foster lost himself. “Shut up, shut the fuck up!”
Something surged in his blood like an electric shock, and without thinking, he raised his hands and released a brilliant white blast of energy. The force of it rattled the cabinets and shook the floor. It sent the very walls groaning as the building strained to hold itself together. Foster himself was thrown backwards from the recoil, crashing through the remnants of his coffee table and sliding back into the exterior wall. His head rocked back into the plaster with athunk.
Across the room, Luce still stood—with Michael down on one knee before him. The angel panted hard, winded from his sprint up through the building and from bearing the brunt of Foster’sattack. His gorgeous tawny wings were badly singed, steaming from the impact, and his shoulders twitched from the strain of holding them aloft as a makeshift shield.
“Michael!” Luce dropped to his knees, grabbing the larger man by the jaw with both hands. “You absolutemoron, what were youthinking!”
“You restrain yourself with him,”he said, his voice wavering slightly, and Luce cupped Michael’s hands flat between his own palms.
“An astute observation,” his tone was equal parts fond and chastising. “Please refrain from getting yourself killed on my behalf.”
“Yeah,” Foster groaned, pushing himself to his feet. “He sure doesn’t deserve it.”
Michael turned to him, wings drooping as he let them fall back to rest.“I owe your father much more than this.If you had seen what we have seen...”
“Blah blah, ‘we saw some shit, and you should change your mind’ yeah,” Foster scoffed. “I prefer to base my feelings off my own experiences and not what youclaimto have seen.”
“I’m willing to show you, but you’re being ridiculous,” Luce snapped. “The measure of your character is admitting when you’re wrong, Foster, not clinging to your bias to feel comfortable.”
“Do you evenrealizehow hypocritical you sound?”
Luce arched a brow. “I thought you were tryingnotto be like me?”
Foster snarled, then blinked in confusion at his own reaction. He looked up at Luce, and for a moment he was young, vulnerable, and confused. “What is happening to me?”
Luce softened and rose back to his feet to approach his son. “I’m not sure. But I’m willing to help you work it out.”
His son’s expression darkened. “I don’t need or wantyourhelp. I know where to find Gabe when I want someone’s opinion.”
“That’s not happening.”
