Michael had been my best friend before the war, before I fell. On the rare occasions we met after that, we’d carried weapons intended to hurt, to maim, but our Archangel blades remained concealed—less than a handful of the fallen knew I could still summon mine. We had no qualms with killing lesser angels and fallen, respectively, but Michael and I had been among the original seven. The war had understandably gotten heated, but even when he had the chance to kill me before he cast me down, he couldn’t, and I reciprocated. Abaddon, however, wouldn’t get such leniency.
“Quite a lot’s changed,” I said as casually as I could.
His eyes widened and his hands moved from my face to my chest. “You’ve known love.”
I smacked his hands away defensively. “No.”
“You lie, brother.” His bit his lip to keep a smile from breaking free. “But to me or yourself?”
“Drop it, Michael,” I warned.
He didn’t. “Why wouldn’t you celebrate?” He grabbed me in a bear hug and picked me up. My lungs compressed as he squeezed. “Love is a wonderful gift, Lucifer! You are truly blessed to have found it after so long.”
“Ack!” He dropped me to my feet again and I coughed air back into my lungs. When he tried to apologize, I ignored him and moved on. “My time as king of Hell came to an end, Michael.”
His eyebrows lowered and his expression turned serious. “I knew something drastic had happened. We’d heard rumors that someone else was leading the charge, but we couldn’t get anyone inside to verify the state of things.” He looked west toward the city. “One moment we had peace, and then demon attacks on the humans started up again more frequently, more openly, and the fallen launched attacks on squads of the Host. It’s been chaos for a while, but I knew you were acting in earnest at our last encounter. I was the only one who had faith you hadn’t gone back on your word.”
“I should’ve told you once I escaped, but I needed time to recover. Abaddon made sure they didn’t hold back.” I ran my hands through my hair and huffed. “Then it became a matter of pride, to reclaim what was mine on my own, without help.”
Michael laid his hand on my shoulder and smiled. “Pride must die in you, or nothing of Heaven can live in you.”
I cocked my head. “I’m of Hell now, Michael.”
He laughed. “You’re still of Heaven, brother, or you wouldn’t still have your blade or your angelic gifts. We may not know His plan, but have faith that He has one.”
I curled my lip at that thought, but it was a point I’d wondered about for millennia. It was starting to make sense now. He’d kicked me from my home and still had the gall to use me for His purposes. “How are Heaven’s armies holding up?”
The laughter in his face died and it put me on edge. “Not well, I’m afraid. Abaddon’s forces aren’t as honorable as yours—they don’t adhere to any of our wartime rules—and multiple ambushes have resulted in heavy losses. The Host is spread thin trying to protect the humans, and now we’ve started getting reports of missing angels.”
“Missing how?” I asked. That was not the news I’d hoped to hear. “Abandoned posts or has anyone seen what happened to them?”
Michael paced away from me, kicking up Abaddon’s sigil as he went. “Most have just vanished, but Sachiel says he witnessed one of the fallen capture two of our brethren. He says he came with chains that the angels could not break and dragged them back beneath the Earth.”
I growled at the memory of the metal on my skin, neutralizing my power. “Yeah, I know the ones. I helped create them ages ago.”
“Then do you know how to break them?” Michael reappeared in front of me and grabbed my arms. “Please, brother, tell me so I can teach the others.”
“If I knew a way to break them, Abaddon wouldn’t have held me so long in them.”
He released me and stepped back. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. How did you escape them?”
“He had help.”
We both looked up to see a dark figure standing over us on the edge of the crater. He was skinny and pale, dressed in black from head to toe, including messy black hair. His light grey eyes watched us for a second before he joined us at the bottom. Silver flashed in the center of his lip.
“Why in the Nine Hells did you get a lip ring?” I asked incredulously. I hadn’t seen Belial since we separated a while ago, but I hadn’t expected such a drastic change.
He shrugged at me, unconcerned, then nodded at Michael. “Been a while.”
“Belial,” Michael greeted, a smile forming. “What brings you here?”
“Him.” He nodded toward me.
“Me?” I asked, shocked. Belial had been antisocial in both Heaven and Hell. Him being here now surprised me as much as it had when he’d showed up to help me escape.
Belial almost smiled. “Yeah. I felt the two of you come together, thought you might be planning the next step. I want in.”
Michael and I looked at each other, then at him. Belial fell because he’d refused to pick a side and fight. All the artisans and muses, or in his case, recluses who’d refused to pick up a sword had fallen, though most stayed on Earth rather than follow me. “Why would you fight now?”
