The Lauer residence.
She stared at the modest house, a subtle light flickering inside from lit candles. The electricity was off there, as it was everywhere in the community. Unexpected blackouts, they said, caused by the power station tripping. It had been down for a little over a week now, ever since Lucifer had broken his restraints.
It was no coincidence.
"If you’ve hurt this family, so help me God—"
He clamped his hand down over her mouth from behind the moment she spoke those words. "Don’t evoke Him," he hissed in her ear. God. "And I’ve done nothing to these pesky little humans. What do you take me for?"
"A monster," she mumbled against his palm.
He chuckled darkly. "Takes one to know one."
He refused to release her, grasping her tightly and pulling her to him, but his hand dropped from her mouth.
"Why are we here?" she demanded.
"Tell me about them."
She sighed exasperatedly. "The Lauers, Nicholas and Samantha. They have a daughter named Nicki."
"You feel a special connection to this family."
It wasn’t a question. Somehow, he knew.
"Three people, yet there’s four heartbeats," Lucifer said. "Why is that?"
Serah hesitated. "Samantha is pregnant."
"How far along?"
Serah stared at the house, seeing shadows move around inside. She could hear faint, childish giggles and realized they were making the best of the blackout by playing a game of hide-and-seek as a family.
"A few weeks," she said. "A boy."
"Five weeks and six days, to be precise," Lucifer corrected her. "Curious, isn’t it? They were only fated to have one kid. But yet, there’s another, conceived the very same afternoon lightning struck the sky from Michael’s blade of fire."
Coldness swept through Serah as her head grew dizzy. Her body seemed to slump back against Lucifer, his arms wrapping tightly around her as the lone word tumbled from her lips. "Samuel."
"A daughter, named after her father," he said. "And now a son, named after his mother—Sam."
"My brother."
"Not anymore," he said. "He’s her brother now."
"How?" she whispered, her vision clouding with tears. "How can it be?"
Sighing, Lucifer pulled her tighter to him, his arms enveloping her in a strong, warm hug. He rested his chin on top of her head. "I told you, when you fall, your mortality is secured. But what I haven’t told you is that when Michael takes your wings with his blade, the wounds are fatal. A mortal is no match for his blade."
Serah’s knees went weak at those words. "I’ll die?"
"You will."
She lost her battle with her tears again then as a sob tore from her.
"Samuel died free from sin," Lucifer said. "His soul was given a second chance. A clean slate."
"But not me."
"Not you."
She closed her eyes, fixating on the soft flutter of the tiny heartbeat inside the house, a life just beginning, the world at his fingertips.
"Will he know?" she asked. "Will he know what he is, what he was? Will he remember his other life? Will he remember . . . me?"
"Short answer? No."
If not for his strong embrace, she would’ve hit the ground.
"But it’s not that black and white," he continued. "Nothing is. How many times do I have to tell you that? He won’t know who you are, or what you were to him, or what he was, but if ever someone utters your name in his presence, he’ll feel a squeeze in his chest, a familiarity where your souls were connected. And he’ll know then—he’ll feel it—he just won’t understand."
Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Serah pulled away from Lucifer and slowly strolled over to the house. She paused outside the living room window and peered in. Through the darkness, she could see Nicholas and Sam running around the room, purposely pretending they couldn’t see Nicki, who was wrapped up in the curtain, hiding. Serah raised her hand and pressed it to the cold glass, conjuring up every ounce of energy she could as she sought out that connection, the one that had been missing since the day Samuel fell.
Closing her eyes, images hit her fast and manic: a tiny baby taking his first shaky breath; a dark-haired toddler with bright eyes smearing paint all over the wall instead of a piece of paper; a young boy going to his first day of kindergarten, a nametag reading "Sammy" pinned to his dark blue polo shirt; an awkward preteen trying out for chorus; a teenage boy strumming the brand-new guitar he got for Christmas; a handsome young man forming a band with his friends. There were girls, first loves and second dates, high school dances and a wedding. There was a long life, filled with friends and family, children and grandchildren. There was music and success, love and happiness.
The perfect life for Samuel.
Serah opened her eyes again and turned back to Lucifer. "He’ll be okay."
"He’ll be more than okay."
"I won’t be."
He stared at her, his eyes watery as he whispered, "I’m so sorry, Serah."
Serah. He’d never called her by her name before.
"They have terrible insurance," she muttered.
Lucifer’s laughter struck her. "That’s what concerns you? I tell you you’re going to die, that Michael is going to kill you, and you’re worried about this family's health insurance plan? Unbelievable."
She stared at the modest house, a subtle light flickering inside from lit candles. The electricity was off there, as it was everywhere in the community. Unexpected blackouts, they said, caused by the power station tripping. It had been down for a little over a week now, ever since Lucifer had broken his restraints.
It was no coincidence.
"If you’ve hurt this family, so help me God—"
He clamped his hand down over her mouth from behind the moment she spoke those words. "Don’t evoke Him," he hissed in her ear. God. "And I’ve done nothing to these pesky little humans. What do you take me for?"
"A monster," she mumbled against his palm.
He chuckled darkly. "Takes one to know one."
He refused to release her, grasping her tightly and pulling her to him, but his hand dropped from her mouth.
"Why are we here?" she demanded.
"Tell me about them."
She sighed exasperatedly. "The Lauers, Nicholas and Samantha. They have a daughter named Nicki."
"You feel a special connection to this family."
It wasn’t a question. Somehow, he knew.
"Three people, yet there’s four heartbeats," Lucifer said. "Why is that?"
Serah hesitated. "Samantha is pregnant."
"How far along?"
Serah stared at the house, seeing shadows move around inside. She could hear faint, childish giggles and realized they were making the best of the blackout by playing a game of hide-and-seek as a family.
"A few weeks," she said. "A boy."
"Five weeks and six days, to be precise," Lucifer corrected her. "Curious, isn’t it? They were only fated to have one kid. But yet, there’s another, conceived the very same afternoon lightning struck the sky from Michael’s blade of fire."
Coldness swept through Serah as her head grew dizzy. Her body seemed to slump back against Lucifer, his arms wrapping tightly around her as the lone word tumbled from her lips. "Samuel."
"A daughter, named after her father," he said. "And now a son, named after his mother—Sam."
"My brother."
"Not anymore," he said. "He’s her brother now."
"How?" she whispered, her vision clouding with tears. "How can it be?"
Sighing, Lucifer pulled her tighter to him, his arms enveloping her in a strong, warm hug. He rested his chin on top of her head. "I told you, when you fall, your mortality is secured. But what I haven’t told you is that when Michael takes your wings with his blade, the wounds are fatal. A mortal is no match for his blade."
Serah’s knees went weak at those words. "I’ll die?"
"You will."
She lost her battle with her tears again then as a sob tore from her.
"Samuel died free from sin," Lucifer said. "His soul was given a second chance. A clean slate."
"But not me."
"Not you."
She closed her eyes, fixating on the soft flutter of the tiny heartbeat inside the house, a life just beginning, the world at his fingertips.
"Will he know?" she asked. "Will he know what he is, what he was? Will he remember his other life? Will he remember . . . me?"
"Short answer? No."
If not for his strong embrace, she would’ve hit the ground.
"But it’s not that black and white," he continued. "Nothing is. How many times do I have to tell you that? He won’t know who you are, or what you were to him, or what he was, but if ever someone utters your name in his presence, he’ll feel a squeeze in his chest, a familiarity where your souls were connected. And he’ll know then—he’ll feel it—he just won’t understand."
Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Serah pulled away from Lucifer and slowly strolled over to the house. She paused outside the living room window and peered in. Through the darkness, she could see Nicholas and Sam running around the room, purposely pretending they couldn’t see Nicki, who was wrapped up in the curtain, hiding. Serah raised her hand and pressed it to the cold glass, conjuring up every ounce of energy she could as she sought out that connection, the one that had been missing since the day Samuel fell.
Closing her eyes, images hit her fast and manic: a tiny baby taking his first shaky breath; a dark-haired toddler with bright eyes smearing paint all over the wall instead of a piece of paper; a young boy going to his first day of kindergarten, a nametag reading "Sammy" pinned to his dark blue polo shirt; an awkward preteen trying out for chorus; a teenage boy strumming the brand-new guitar he got for Christmas; a handsome young man forming a band with his friends. There were girls, first loves and second dates, high school dances and a wedding. There was a long life, filled with friends and family, children and grandchildren. There was music and success, love and happiness.
The perfect life for Samuel.
Serah opened her eyes again and turned back to Lucifer. "He’ll be okay."
"He’ll be more than okay."
"I won’t be."
He stared at her, his eyes watery as he whispered, "I’m so sorry, Serah."
Serah. He’d never called her by her name before.
"They have terrible insurance," she muttered.
Lucifer’s laughter struck her. "That’s what concerns you? I tell you you’re going to die, that Michael is going to kill you, and you’re worried about this family's health insurance plan? Unbelievable."
