“Excuse me?”
“He’s too dangerous, Foster, how are you not understanding this?”
Foster scowled. “I understand perfectly fine; I just don’t agree with you.”
“It’s not a matter of opinion! Gabriel impersonated me so I would be exiled and has almost gotten you killed in pursuit of who knows what ends!”
“That’s the kicker for me,” Foster jabbed a finger towards Luce. “All I’m hearing so far is that he did something to screw you over, which I don’t personally blame him for, and you can’t even tell me what his supposed evil goal is in all of this. You sound like a bitter old man.”
Luce was at the end of his patience and grabbed Foster by the upper arm. “Bitter? Possibly. Old? Yes, ancient. I am the first of the Seraphim Eterna. I am Lucifer of the Morning Star, and I am yourfather.Honor thy father, Foster. You will do as you’re told and let me save your ungrateful life.”
The tension between them was tangible, and Foster leaned toward Luce for a heated, electric moment.“No. I’m officially done listening to you.”
He yanked his arm away, and Lucifer lost his cool.
“That’s it. I tried to be compassionate and patient. I tried to reason with you.” Luce clapped his hands together firmly, then slowly spread them apart, a warm golden light emanating from his palms. “Apparently, I must employ the age-old tradition of putting my foot down. You’re grounded.”
It was so unbelievable, Foster laughed. “I’m a grown man!”
“A grown man who will be forcibly confined to his room until I deal with the matter of Gabriel.”
Foster threw his arms wide. “What, here in my ruined apartment?”
Luce sniffed disdainfully. “Absolutely not. Even if it wasn’t an absolute wreck, I clearly can’t trust you to make your own choices. You’ll be returning to Hell where I can keep a closer eye on you.”
“You’re about twenty years too late to be giving a shit.” Foster rubbed his own palms together as if scrubbing off a stain, then mimicked his father’s actions and pulled the space apart. His own hands gave off the bright white light he had created before, and he marveled at it for a moment. “You can let me walk out of here, or we can have this fight.Personally,I’m happy to have a chance to beat your face in.”
“Insolence is unbecoming,” Luce sneered. “Your mother would be ashamed.”
Foster could hear himself yelling, but his world narrowed to a furious blur centered on his father’s face. He rushed forward, throwing his hands ahead of him in an attempt to maim or at least to wound with his power.
Luce swiveled to the side and returned the volley, golden light arcing out in a sweep toward his son. Foster ducked, and Michael made a guttural sound of alarm as he rolled his battered body out of the way.
“Sorry!” Luce yelped.
“Look out!” Michael pointed frantically behind him.
Luce whirled around, only to catch Foster’s glowing fist across his cheek. “Damned Souls, Foster, this is madness!”
“What’s madness is that you’re so desperate to control my life!”
“Tosaveit!”
Another bolt of gold swept past Foster’s head and blasted a hole clean through the wall. Foster peered over his shoulder at the smoldering drywall and rickety stairwell.
“Oh yes, it definitely looks like you’re saving me!”
“You’re a demigod,” Luce said dryly. “You’ll heal.”
Foster gave a guttural shout and rushed at Luce, catching him around the waist and sending them tumbling into the kitchen. He reached up on impulse, grabbed his freshly brewed coffee from the warmer, and sloshed it into his father’s face. Luce bellowed in pain, covering his face with his hands, but when he pulled them away the blistered red wounds were already healing.
“This is my favorite jacket,” he declared indignantly. Foster only grunted before bringing his fist down hard on Luce’s nose. It gave a sickening crunch, and the Devil yowled.
Foster continued raining down blow after blow, driven by deep seated resentment and centuries of repressed anger, hot tears pouring almost unnoticed down his cheeks. Lucifer barely resisted, bearing the onslaught with the occasional weak attempt to push his son away. It was so uncharacteristic that it was almost obscene.
Michael averted his gaze and groaned, shifting himself to all fours. He’d taken a stronger beating than he had expected, but it was downright humiliating to be laid low by a novice as if he were completely untrained. But what was he supposed to do? Sit aside and let Luce be brutalized by his own son?
No. He had to summon the will—and then a thought crept in.Summon. He might be too injured to help, but he knew someone that rivaled his own abilities. Someone who would gladly risk his life to serve Luce. Michael pushed himself up, using a splintered chair leg as a makeshift cane, and fell heavily against the wall.
