“Well, that’s just bad manners, Mike. Breaking and entering, and now you’re thinking about trying to, what,stabme?”
A long, tense moment hung between them. Michael’s narrowed silver gaze locked on that cold, ebony glare. Then, “I need to see Lucifer.”
Bal smirked and dropped his hand, laden with numerous, mismatched rings, heavily onto Michael’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, friend,” he smiled brightly. “That’s exactly where I was planning to take you.”
“I’ll bet.” Michael cursed himself for his carelessness.
If anyone should have been prepared for this, it was him. He had been Bal’s commander for eons, utilizing the man’s penchant for slipping into pockets between space to their advantage more than once during battles and reconnaissance missions. Yet he had walked into this trap like an errant fly,never pausing to look for the signs. He was either becoming careless or reckless, and neither option appealed to him.
“Hey, cheer up, Mikey,” Bal maintained his cheery facade, throwing an arm around Michael’s shoulders, which were unencumbered by his glamoured wings. A tendril of unease uncurled in his stomach at the vulnerability his exposed back presented, and he found himself casually inspecting Bal’s layered belts for a knife sheath. Finding none, he relaxed a fraction.
“You’re getting what you want, alright? Unfortunately, I will have to…well,put you under, for lack of a better term.”
Bal’s hand slid up quickly, over Michael’s shoulder, to grip him by the nape of his neck. Michael tensed, but he knew it was already too late as a spark of magic zipped under his skin and the world began to tilt.
“Sorry, old friend,” Bal’s grin was genuine now, because he was most certainlynotsorry in the slightest. He had always had a penchant for mischief. “I didn’t make the rules, I just enforce ‘em.”
The last thing Michael heard before he passed out was a low, dark chuckle that sent chills rolling down his spine.
Darkness, a touch of cool breeze, and the scent of burning herbs roused him from his stupor. Michael shifted, restless, and winced at the kiss of something hard and surprisingly cold against his skin. He groaned, shifted again, and felt a flare of concern at the restricted movement of his limbs.
With a concerted effort, he forced his eyes open, blinking in the low light from a crackling fire in the grate beside him. He was seated in a sturdy wooden chair; shimmering cords of white magic bound him securely in place.Thinking quickly despite thelingering fog, Michael tried to rock the chair to either side in an effort to tip it over and get onto his feet.
It was a wasted effort; it had been carved from a dense wood that gave it considerable weight. This was not good. Instinctually, he began looking for a fire poker, or some other tool that could be repurposed as a weapon.
“Don’t mind the fire,” a low, sensuous voice taunted him from the darkness, and Michael jerked in surprise.Lucifer. The man himself came into view, sliding out from the shadows at the room’s edge with deadly grace and the threat of violence glimmering in his eyes. “It does get a bit drafty in here.”
Michael stared blandly back. The only betrayal of his indifferent mask was the stubborn set of his jaw; the quick calculations running behind his eyes.
“You can give up on plotting your escape, Michael.” Luce settled against the edge of the desk placed opposite the chair, arms folded, with his long legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankle. “Even if you somehow managed to free yourself, you’d have to get pastme.If by some miracle you managed that, there’s a veritable army of my most loyal, highly trained soldiers between you and the Rift. You are well and truly fucked, angel boy.”
He was.Damn. Even Michael could admit that—skilled tactician he may be—there were some odds even he couldn’t beat. And this deck had been stacked well in advance. They had known, somehow, that he was coming, and that he would be alone. He pictured Sachi’s easy smile and wanted to curse. It had been a carefully laid trap, and like a wobbling newborn, Michael had practically tripped over himself to fall into it.
Luce eyed him steadily, refusing to even blink as he circled slowly around. When he stood directly behind the chair, he paused, and Michael tried not to panic. Lucifer had never been needlessly vicious in the past, but he had no way of knowing ifthat still held true. Time could change a person in endless ways, and though he hated to admit it, Michael could no longer claim to know this man.
No angel would be comfortable with an unassessed threat standing at his back, and Michael silently cursed himself again for his foolishness. He had been stronger, once. Balthazar would never have been able to incapacitate Michael in his glory. This was disgraceful.
As if reading his mind, Lucifer reached out to rub his fingertips along Michael’s bare shoulder blades, at the exact spot where tawny wings normally sprouted from sun kissed skin. Michael did his best to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine as he was stroked and prodded.
“Your glamour should be nearly depleted,” Luce mused thoughtfully, and a shard of fear embedded itself in Michael’s gut. It would be only fair, he knew. An angel’s wings were their greatest treasure, and he had been the one to destroy Lucifer’s own. “I’ll get to see thosegloriouswings again,angel.”
It wasn’t an endearment any longer. The slight edge, the almost imperceptible mockery of what they had once shared… it wasn’t lost on him. Swallowing around the tightness of his throat, Michael made another futile attempt at escape, refusing to simply sit and be taunted until Luce decided on who knew what form of revenge.
Tugging stubbornly at his bonds, he wasn’t prepared for them to abruptly vanish. Only dedicated centuries of training kept him from toppling forward and face planting into cold stone. Instead, he caught himself, straightened, and spun to face Luce with an expression of either shock or suspicion—he wasn’t entirely sure what his own face was doing.
“Don’t give me…whatever that face is,” Luce said, waving his hand in a broad sweep. “You can agree there’s no honor in besting a downed opponent.”
“I wasn’t sure we still saw eye to eye on matters of honor. I thought you had left such inconvenient ideals to me.”
Luce scoffed. “Ah, yes, because your betrayal was so honorable.”
“Mybetrayal?!”Michael’s eyebrows flew upwards. “Do not speak tomeof betrayal!”
“Personally, I wouldn’t speak to you at all, but you seem to keep finding your way to my doorstep uninvited.” His eyes flashed. “I’m sure you understand why I can’t allow this?”
“I know I’m not wanted here, but you’ve put us in a position beyond our control, Lucifer.”
The King scoffed. “Perhaps beyondyourcontrol. Some of us are made of stronger stuff.”
