“They’re demons, they always overreact.” Tucker shrugged, trying to make me feel better.
JAKE stayed down in the lobby deliberating for what seemed like hours. In the end, just after midnight, both Tucker and Hanna went to bed. I was getting sleepy and about to change out of the velvet gown when I heard Jake outside my door, calling my name. It was the first time he’d knocked rather than just let himself in.
“I’m glad you’re still up,” he said as soon as I let him in. “We’ve got to go.”
He sounded apologetic rather than commanding, and a garment was bundled under his arm. There was a strange look in his eyes and if I didn’t know better, I’d have said it was fear. He hadn’t looked like that even when Gabriel had wrapped him in tongues of fire and commanded the earth to swallow him alive. He’d only looked defiant in defeat. What could have happened to rattle him so badly?
“Where are we going?”
Jake pressed his lips together and tried to repress his mounting anxiety. “They’ve called a hearing.”
“What? Why?” I was fully awake now.
“I didn’t expect it to go this far,” Jake said. “I’ll explain on the way.”
“Can I change first?”
“No time.”
Outside the lobby, Jake’s motorcycle waited for us, purring with a life of its own.
“Why the bike?” I asked.
“I want to avoid drawing too much attention,” he said. “Here, put this on.” He tossed me the brown cloak he’d been carrying.
“I thought attention was just what you wanted,” I said, recalling the humiliating parade of only hours before.
“Not this time.”
“Why should I listen to anything you say?” I said.
“Beth.” Jake sighed as if he were in pain. “Hate me as much as you like but trust me … tonight I’m on your side.”
For some reason I believed him. I slipped on the cloak and pulled the hood over my head. Jake helped me onto the bike and we sped soundlessly through the tunnels that unspooled and interweaved before us, as intricate as a spiderweb. I pressed my face into his back to hide from whatever horrors lurked in the dark.
Before long Jake pulled up abruptly in front of what appeared to be a derelict warehouse at the end of a narrow alley. We dismounted and stood facing the ruins of a building that was several stories high despite the fact that it was underground. Vandals had smashed most of the windows and they’d been boarded up with cardboard. Graffiti was scrawled across the external walls. Jake hesitated for just a fraction before moving forward. The look on his face suggested he was trying to come up with a game plan.
“This is it,” he said looking at me with uncharacteristic seriousness. “You get an audience with Big Daddy himself. There aren’t many dead or alive that can claim that honor.”
“Whoa, what?” I cried. “You’ve taken me to Lucifer? Are you crazy? I’m not going in there!”
“We have no choice,” Jake breathed. “We’ve been summoned.”
“Why? Is this about the butterfly?” I asked desperately. “I won’t do it again, I swear.” Whatever confidence I’d regained by the end of the parade deserted me then.
“You’re not the one they’re angry with,” Jake said. “They have assembled to judge me and decide my punishment for bringing you here.”
“Well, good,” I snapped. “You were wrong in bringing me here. It’ll serve you right when they send me back.”
“I hope it’s that simple,” Jake murmured, his eyes distant. “But we’d be getting off lightly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, let’s go inside.” Jake drew himself up. “We’ve kept him waiting long enough. Remember, don’t speak unless spoken to. Got it? This isn’t the time to get fresh.”
Jake had barely got the words out when a black-suited bouncer much like the others I’d seen in the underground clubs pulled open the heavy doors. There was the grinding sound of metal sliding on metal as he motioned for us to step inside.
“C’mon in,” a voice that reminded me of smooth, rich whiskey called from inside. “I don’t bite.”
Inside, the warehouse had been set up to look like an improvised courtroom. Seven dark, shadowy figures were seated in a semicircle on what appeared to be upturned crates. Some had their arms crossed like they’d been kept waiting too long. I knew instinctively that they were the Originals and Jake’s equals. As I scanned the faces I saw Diego, Nash, Yeats, and Asia lurking in the dim light. I assumed that they too had been summoned — perhaps as witnesses.
When my eyes adjusted to the dim light I saw that presiding at the head of the group was a significantly taller figure. He was seated in a high-backed Tudor-style chair that had seen better days. He wore a white linen suit with a red silk tie and his feet were encased in white cowboy boots. Although his face was still in shadow, I was sure he was the rousing speaker I’d overheard in the boardroom. He held an ivory-topped cane that he tapped softly on the cement floor, as if he were already bored. When Jake and I entered all conversation died on the spot and for some minutes no one spoke. It gave me a brief opportunity to assess the derelict space and those who occupied it.
Apart from the shattered panes of glass there were cobwebs hanging in sheaths from dust-coated machinery. The rustling of wings overhead suggested that bats had made their home in the timber rafters. Like Jake, the fallen angels surrounding me were images of faded beauty. The gender of some was indeterminate, but they shared the same chiseled features; fine lips the color of peaches, slightly aquiline noses, and strong jaws. They had the wasted, vacant look of those who had devoted their lives to idle pursuits. They were incapable of feeling surprise yet I knew my presence surprised them. There was something about the way they held themselves and the air of superiority they radiated that distinguished them as the Originals. They were the equivalent to royalty in this world. Only now they regarded Jake coolly, as though he were no longer one of them but an outcast who had wandered from the pack.
When the face of the white-clad man came into view, I saw he was older than others and more weather-beaten. His skin was tanned and leathery and his eyes were a pellucid blue but devoid of any expression. He was immaculately groomed and wore his silver hair tied back loosely with a gilded clasp. Even I had to admit, he was extremely beautiful. Angels were not supposed to age, but I guessed that the constant propagation of evil was bound to take its toll. Despite having aged some, Lucifer’s face was radiant, his eyes sharp and every angle perfectly sculpted. His brow was broad and his eyes held such electricity it made the hairs on my arms stand on end. I knew that in Heaven, he had once been among the most revered of our kind, elite in beauty and intelligence. When he spoke, his voice rang out, slow and musical.
“Well, hello there, little angel,” he said. “How’s this for a family reunion?” Some of the Originals tittered in response.
“Father.” Jake stepped forward in a business-like way. “This is all a misunderstanding. If you would grant me the opportunity to explain …”
“Oh, Arakiel, my dear boy,” Lucifer crooned in a paternal tone. “You have much to answer for.”
It took me a moment to realize that he was addressing Jake by his angelic name. As always, I found myself startled by the reminder of Jake’s former life. It was so strange to think that long ago, before I’d ever come into existence, they had all dwelled in Heaven. Gabriel would remember it with clarity and in his mind it wouldn’t feel like so much time had passed. I knew he’d witnessed the uprising of the rebel angels and their ultimate expulsion from the Kingdom. I knew the evil they had perpetrated since, yet one word kept ringing in my mind: brothers. And look what had become of them now. For a moment all my fear and anger dissolved and I felt only a deep sense of sadness. Lucifer’s voice drew me back to the proceedings at hand.