Lucifer wanted to rage, to scream his father had it wrong. But the last time that had happened, he’d provoked the Creator’s temper to such a degree, he’d been cast out of their home.
“Keep her here. Alive. And I will obey. I give you my solemn blood oath.” He hesitated to say, if Nadia were put to death, he’d lose all control. Her execution would be the thing to cause his mental break.
“With the exception of your brothers, memories of her must be wiped clean,” Father agreed. “The triscelene’s own past, also. Otherwise, I will be viewed as weak, and another rebellion would ensue.”
Stinging started behind Luc’s lids, and he shut his eyes. To be the only one who remembered their relationship was another punishment he would be forced to endure.
“I understand,” he agreed roughly.
“Then it shall be done.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“I require one more thing, Lucifer.”
“Of course,” he replied, keeping the mockery out of his tone. “Name your price.”
“Thamiel.”
His left hand and best friend.
There was no need to wonder why. He was to be stripped of all he loved once more. The ultimate punishment for daring to question authority.
“He shall be turned over to you upon my return to the mortal plane,” Luc vowed, and with burning eyes, he nodded toward Nadia. “May I say goodbye?”
“I will grant you a short time together,” his father stated. “But first…”
The Creator placed a palm against Nadia’s lower abdomen.
Though Luc understood the precaution, the perfect vision of their non-existent child danced through his mind, disappearing as it flitted by. It felt as if Michael’s sword had pierced his heart, too.
Next, Father removed the blade and sealed her wound. Before waking her, he said, “You must help her to understand. I will not have my home destroyed by her inability to control her emotions.”
“Will you unchain me, Father? So that I may touch her one last time?”
With a whirl of the staff, Luc was free of his shackles. The Creator snapped his fingers, and Luc was garbed in a robe of an Offender, black to distinguish the marked difference between those fallen from grace and the white robes of those who still resided in the Almighty’s good graces.
“You should really update the wardrobe selection around here,” Luc quipped.
A deeply amused chuckle was his answer.
“Father?” Luc cleared his throat. “Gabriel was only trying to keep her safe from Michael. He doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned or banished for loving and protecting her.”
“He involved himself with a woman and went against my wishes.”
“She is his daughter,” he replied simply. “What would you do for yours?” Seeing it had no effect on the father who had banished him, he added, “Please allow him to help her adjust and accept her circumstances. She will be confused when she wakes, but deep down, she’ll recognize someone who cares for her. His steady presence will calm her.”
His father stared down at Gabriel—whose expression was etched with horror—and considered the request.
“Yes, I can clearly see he cares for her.” His staff dropped to touch the shackles holding his brother and changed his robe to gray. “He shall be her guide.”
“Thank you.”
“You have five mortal minutes.”
31
Nadia became aware of her surroundings in slow increments.
