Luke is still unpredictable—even to me—and so I’m surprised that he put the word out there this quickly. I expected him to hold it close.
Sean is quiet for a long moment. Considering Luke freed him from target practice, the fact he looks more troubled now is saying something.
“He told you,” Sean says.
“Yes.” Luke crosses his arms. “Did you try to kill me?”
“Of course not,” Sean says. “It was an accident.”
Saraya is frowning between them. “What am I missing?”
“Is there somewhere we can go?” I ask. “More private—so this is not in front of the children?”
The children who stand around us in rapt amazement, like we’ve brought the best soap opera on Earth with us. “Demon!” one boy yells and points at Luke. “Kill!”
“Maybe put your wings away,” I say to Luke.
He shrugs, but when his shoulders go back down they vanish.
“Kill the demon!” More children join in.
Saraya raises both her hands, looking like my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Hayes, when she was signaling for us to shut up or big trouble would result. Like no recess. Did these kids have recess? Doubtful based on what Saraya said earlier.
“No killing,” she says. “For now. Michael’s orders.”
The children back away and straighten into a line. Their disappointment is palpable.
“Is this normal?” I ask with my voice low. “The bloodthirstiness?”
“They’re training to be holy warriors,” Sean says.
It’s my turn to look between him and Saraya. “Why did you answer that?” I ask. “And what if a kid is no good at fighting?”
Saraya shrugs. “We’re all capable of defending the city, but some may ultimately take other positions. Farming or cooking, firing the forges … the scholars who keep our history and maintain the library.”
“Uh-oh,” Luke says.
“What?” Saraya asks.
“You mentioned a library.” Luke nudges me with his arm. “Go ahead.”
“Can we see it?” I try not to sound too eager. She’ll only say no.
“Not tonight,” she says. “We must eat. The day’s work is done.”
On cue, the crystalline ringing of a bell pierces the air. Fitting they’d use one here. Church bells aren’t just pretty sound effects, but believed by many to drive away demons and unclean spirits. It wasn’t uncommon in ye olden days to inscribe the metal with messages about the specific effects like to banish storms and threats to souls.
The children and their minder file out automatically, heading off for their suppers. We wait, letting them go first. The air feels heavy with the things that remain to be said.
As the ringing stops, Sean shifts uncomfortably. He seems about a thousand percent more nervous. But then, he’s having a day. “We’re going to the feast hall?” he asks.
“Yes,” Saraya says, and glares at him. “Why the concern—you don’t want to face more of the people you betrayed?”
What could she possibly mean?
“Oh, that bastard,” Luke says, and shakes his head. “You grew up here. Didn’t you?”
Sean answers as if it pains him. “Yes.”
I think of what Porsoth told me about encouraging Lucifer to tell Sean about his parentage. The connection hits like a blow from one of the holy weapons. “You found out on your seventeenth birthday.”
“And I left immediately. There was no way to explain.” Sean has eyes only for Saraya. In this case, it’s mutual.
“Explain what?” She grits the words out, almost as if she doesn’t want to ask. Or maybe like she doesn’t want to know the answer.
“It wasn’t just me,” Luke says. “She doesn’t know either.”
He checks in with me. “No more secrets,” I say.
Sean doesn’t protest.
“We’re brothers,” Luke says, and waves a hand from himself to Sean. He puts his usual rosy spin on it. “From other mothers. I found out earlier today.”
“You … you are…” Saraya’s hand has gravitated to the hilt of her sword. Her extremely sharp and deadly security blanket.
“You can see why I had to leave,” Sean says.
The bell rings again, one final time.
“We must go,” Saraya says, and turns.
“Wait,” Sean says.
“No!” Saraya barks without turning around.
By the time we reach the rope bridge, Saraya is already across. She’s been filled with nothing but contempt for me, but I’m imagining a whole other side to her. And that side is hurting.
“You can get us to the hall?” I ask Sean.
“I can.” He peers into the evening. Saraya’s already out of sight.
“Good.” I step out onto the bridge before either of them can stop me.
Luke says, “Callie, what are you doing?”
“I can make it.” And by doing so, I can buy Saraya a little time to process. I pause and slowly turn my head to look at him. “It’s fine.”
She told me I could do it before and she sounded certain. I don’t think she’s a liar, even though she didn’t exactly describe what Sean helping train the kids entailed. Thing is, if she didn’t have feelings for him, why bother with that? It can’t just be about his leaving. She clearly didn’t know about his father. It’s a lot to take in.
I’ve been there.
Luke eases onto the bridge behind me, and it doesn’t budge. Well-constructed.
The three of us head across, and I purposely take my time. There’s a trick to the balance without a hold for hands, but the bridge itself barely sways and is firm beneath my feet. I have to admit there’s something fun about it, once I get the hang of it. I jump the last couple of steps, and I have a little window into what my life might look like now if I’d taken up Michael on his offer to join the guardians.
I can almost picture it, but I don’t feel drawn to. Luke gathers me in close to him for a quick kiss. My longing is fine right here.
“You had to do that, didn’t you?” Luke asks.
“I’ve wanted to go to Amazon Training School in Themyscira ever since the Wonder Woman movie came out.” Jared and Mag more or less do—they go to some modern gladiator training warehouse across town. I wonder how today went back home.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Luke says, guessing the direction of my thoughts.
Sean coughs and we separate. No need to rub our happy in his face. I can try to get a phone signal here in probably-Eden later. The sky is the blue of ocean depths and there are more stars visible in it than anyplace I’ve ever been.
I face Sean. “Let me get this straight. Lucifer visited you and told you who you are and you ran off without telling anyone—including Saraya—and became a con artist?”
“When you put it like that, I sound like a real asshole,” Sean says. “I didn’t want her to think I was dead. I had a lifetime of being here without deserving it to atone for.”
“And a very particular set of skills, Liam Neeson–style?” I suggest.
“A face that could charm the devil,” Sean says.
“Anyone except the devil,” Luke says, joining the conversation. “What about your mother?”
“She died on a mission when I was fourteen. We never talked about my father.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke says.
Sean nods, accepting it.
Guardians are mortal, then. Unlike … me. I do need to find the right time to reveal that to Luke.
“It didn’t feel right to stay here,” Sean says.
“Did it feel right to leave?” The question’s out before I can stop it.
“No,” he says. “I gave up on anything ever feeling right after that day. That’s why I can’t be redeemed. Why you’re going to lose your bet.”
“And let Lucifer get what he wants?” I ask. “No way.”
Luke says, “We find the Grail. If that can’t wipe away a little fatherly sin, nothing can.”
I hear what Luke hasn’t said, that he’s agreeing with Sean that being Lucifer’s sons makes them inherently bad in some way. “I thought we’d covered this—you are not your father. You have a soul, a good one,” I tell Luke. “And you probably do too,” I tell Sean. “Otherwise none of this would bother you.”
“You don’t understand,” Sean says. “How could you? You didn’t grow up the way either of us did. My father wanted me to undermine the guardians. His entire design for me was to be his Trojan horse. It wasn’t even a question for him that I’d do it.”
“But he was wrong.” I’m not budging on this.
“Maybe about that,” Sean says. “But not about me. I was angry when I got forced out of Hell, because it was the first time in my life I felt like I belonged where I was.”
Before I can argue, he’s walking off in the direction Saraya went in. “Feast hall’s this way,” he drops over his shoulder.
“How do you hit the reset button for someone who doesn’t want it?” I ask.
“You make him want it,” Luke says.
I don’t think I’m capable of that, but I know who is.
I’ve given up trying to expect what things will look like. The feast hall of Guardian City is described in none of the books I grew up inhaling. From Luke’s description, we’re off the map. Or between the folds, or maybe in one of those “here be dragons” sections. (That wasn’t actually a common saying on old maps, but at least one famous globe does warn of fanciful creatures. I read a convincing argument once that most sea monster sightings were likely whale penises. The more you know.)
Sean is waiting outside a structure made of graceful arches of metal and crystal-clear glass, so unlike the wood and greenery everywhere else. People bustle around or sit around long tables inside. The sounds of laughter and the clatter of cutlery are audible. The air fills with a delicious smell that reminds me of … hot dogs.
“Are we going in?” I don’t say that I’m starving. Luke is always hungry and given the way Sean descended upon the room service menu almost twenty-four hours ago he must be up for dinner.
“Yes,” Sean says. “Funny that now I’m waiting for you rather than fleeing you.”
“Hilarious,” Luke says.
A man appears in the open entrance. He’s wearing a pair of loose-fitting white pants and tunic, and has a neat, snowy beard that comes to a point below his well-lined face. And he’s wearing a Cubs cap. Yes, the baseball team. He takes it off.
“Isaac,” Sean says, like he can’t believe it. “Is that you?”
The man strides forward, loose-limbed despite his age. “I could ask you the same thing, boy. I couldn’t believe it when they said you’d returned … and in such company.” The man stops and waits with a more polite expression than anyone else has offered us so far.
“I’m Callie Johnson, of Lexington, Kentucky.” Porsoth has made a big deal of how important bona fides are when meeting someone new in this world. I just don’t have any others. Well … “Bachelor’s in history,” I add. “And this is Luke Morningstar…”
“Prince of Hell, at your service,” Luke says. “That last part is a figure of speech.”
Isaac doesn’t offer his own specifics, but speaks again to Sean. “I could ask where you’ve been all these years, but the rumors kept me fairly informed.”
“Doubtful,” Sean says. His voice is soft. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too. Don’t leave without saying good-bye this time.”
“I won’t.”
Saraya joins us—or declines to. She stands in the opening and calls orders. “Hurry it up! Or there’ll be no food left and I’m not rustling up something extra for you.”
“Ball game night,” Isaac says. “The best brats in Christendom await.”
He turns and goes back in, pausing to set a hand on Saraya’s shoulder, which she allows, before disappearing. Cheers sound from inside.
“Game night?” I ask.
Sean tips an imaginary hat. “Baseball. You may have noticed guardians have a competitive streak. They love all sports.”
“An optimist indeed if he likes the Cubs,” Luke says.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” I say. “I didn’t know you followed sports.”
“Training,” Luke says. “Research on humans. You’d be surprised what people will do if they think it’ll help their team. Or after a big loss when they’re weak.”
“To prey upon a fan’s heartbreak, now that’s cruelty,” Sean says.
“Who’s your team?” Luke asks.
Sean scoffs. “No way I’m telling you.”
“Are we eating or not?” I ask.
Saraya has disappeared. With a shrug, we head in. She’s waiting, thin-lipped and tense, just inside.
“I did it,” I say, “I made it across the bridge.”
“How exciting for you,” Saraya says.
Despite our relationship, it stings, though I understand she’s simply lashing out.
The entire assembly—there must be several hundred people here—hushes as they realize we’ve entered. The baseball game playing on an enormous screen at the back fills the silence. Almost.
A hit cracks and that’s enough to get their attention. More cheers break out across the room, and children go back to racing around the long tables, just as they might back home at a big family gathering. Along with swirls of pastel pink and blue cotton candy, and towering ice cream cones, apparently part of the theme night.
I turn and Sean and Luke are standing side by side. It’s hard not to want to smack my head for not seeing it earlier. They are so alike in their mannerisms and the cocky way they hold themselves. Both of them are so handsome it hurts.
But there’s a softness to Luke—maybe I imagine it or maybe I’m the only one who sees it—that Sean doesn’t have yet. I suspect he’s on edge all the time under his cool veneer.
“Help yourselves,” Saraya says, and there’s a distinct air of “Do I have to tell you everything?” to it.
There’s a long line of serving platters and food, and we make our way over together. Luke stays quiet behind me.
“You all right?” I ask.
“Not my usual scene,” he murmurs.
Fair.
We load up our plates with brats and potato salad. We tuck in and almost immediately I begin to feel drowsy and heavy.
“Do you think they’ve drugged us?” I ask.
“There’s no insomnia here,” Sean says. “You’re feeling the daily rhythms. I’m tired too, and I should be way too keyed up for it to act on me.”
Luke yawns. “So that’s what it is. How do they pay attention to the game?”
“They’re familiar with the rhythms of the day,” he says. “They’ll leave here and sleep well to rise with the sun. Or, some of them, for midnight drills.”
A trumpet sounds then, blaring, and everyone freezes for a moment. Saraya abandons us and makes her way quickly toward the exit. Sean is on his feet in an instant, motioning for us to follow her.
“An arrival,” he says.
“Michael?” I wonder.
“No,” he says. “He announces himself with blazing light. You know that.”
“Someone from Hell,” we hear as we make it outside.
Saraya has pulled the sword from before, and it glows in the darkness now, a faint white. She jogs toward the gated walls. We trail her, keeping up as best we can.
“Could it be your father?” I ask Luke, before I realize I’m asking Sean too now.
“If he’s come here, it’s not good news,” Luke says.
“Anyone from Hell coming here isn’t good news,” Sean says. He gives Luke a look. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
“No offense taken.”
As we approach the gate where we came in, we find a flurry of activity. From inside, it’s easy to see how deceptively picturesque the outer walls appear. Doves are being waved into position by women in white leathers, and archers and others are tucked into vantage points where they have good aim to target anyone who’s coming.
“Humans too,” I hear Saraya bark. “Three of them.”
A vague thought twinges at the back of my head.
“Be prepared to kill on sight,” Saraya says.
No one protests.
I pull my phone out and confirm it has no service.
“Let’s see who it is first,” I say.
“You have no authority here,” Saraya counters.
She’s right, and given how fragile she must be feeling, challenging her isn’t the best idea. I do it anyway. “Michael said to help us. It seems unlikely this has nothing to do with us. We wait and see who and what this is. No shooting first.”
I get a growl in answer, but I’ll take it.
I turn back to the, well, brothers. “You stay here … unless I call for you.”
Luke leans in and kisses my cheek. “I’d rather go.”
“No.” Saraya sounds immovable on this point.
I suspected as much and it’s why I told them to stay put.
Luke nods to me. “I’ll be there in a heartbeat, if you need me.”
“I know.”
He hesitates. “You’ve got something on your face.”
“No,” I say, my heart beating a dance, “you’ve got something on your face.”
“You two are strange,” Sean says, but there’s no heat in it.
I cross to Saraya’s side and walk out with her to meet the new arrivals. “If it is Lucifer, feel free to shoot at him with everything you’ve got,” I say, low.
Her face angles the barest fraction toward me with what might be approval.
Doves streak from the wall through the night sky, more menacing without the light to guide them. They swoop and call and chills spread along my spine. A wind blows, the fields alongside rustling with the sound, and then I see exactly who is here.
A scholar’s robe billows in the night, silhouetting one particular owl-pig silhouette. The figures with him defy belief at first. I blink again and even though this can’t be good news … it feels like good news.
I take off at a run to meet them.
“Wait,” Saraya says.
“Don’t fire!” I tell her.
Another growl behind me, but I ignore it. The people coming toward me speed up too, recognizing me and realizing they’re in the right place. We stop in front of each other, and I check behind me and verify that Saraya is waiting right where I left her.
“Mag, Jared—and Mom? What are you doing here?”
Mag gives a sheepish wave, hand in Jared’s. Mom is half looking at me and half watching the looping doves in the darkness.
Porsoth comes forward, hooves solid thumps on the firm earth. “They insisted on coming when I told them, milady.”
“Told them what?”
“The moon in Hell’s sky, the omen.” Porsoth’s voice is weak, bothered. “It’s turned to blood.”
“What does that mean?” I’m glad they’re here, but confused.
“I don’t know,” Porsoth says. “But it seemed imperative you have all the help we could muster for the third day. Is the young master still well?” He leans over to peer toward the gate.
“He’s waiting inside.”
“I must see him.”
“There’s protocol first,” I say.
Porsoth nods, seemingly comforted. “As there should be. Protocol is the mark of a civilized culture.”
An arrow flies from the wall then. And behind it another.
Between one blink and the next, Porsoth assumes his full demonic form—growing into a stories-tall, broad, scary owl-pig. He raises a wing and bats away the guardian arrows like children’s toys.
“Wait!” I shout. “Everyone wait!”
That’s when the beam of light shines in an unmistakable flare and Michael lands beside us, the ground shaking as his feet hit the Earth. His wings gleam like Saraya’s sword, but a thousand times brighter and us puny humans (or mostly humans, in my case) raise our hands to shield our eyes.
Now I’m the one waiting, for more arrows. For attacking troops. For Luke to fly out to my side. None of that happens before Michael speaks.
“Let us set protocol aside for the evening.” The archangel Michael smiles and it might be the first not-entirely-terrifying, genuine expression I’ve ever seen from him. It’s still pretty terrifying. “Welcome to Guardian City. I bring news.”