I twist and crane my head around, trying to see if what I feel can possibly be true.
The answer is yes. There they are. Luke’s wings. Rising out of my shoulder blades and extending wide on either side of me.
“As I’m sure you’ve now gathered,” Lucifer says, “I’ve given you each the other’s powers, just to make it interesting. To allow you to fully understand each other’s perspective.”
Luke seethes. “Father, is this truly necessary?”
I give the wings a gentle, experimental flap and my feet hover off the ground. “Oh my—”
“Don’t say it,” Luke says, anticipating that I’m about to invoke the heavenly father.
I swallow the word, barely. Having wings is strange and … and …
Incredible.
I should be more worried about what Lucifer sprang on us. But my brain and body sing in unison: I have wings I have wings I have wings. I take off and do a circle overhead. The throne room takes on new dimension and depth as I rise above it. My wings carry me gracefully through the room’s upper reaches and I let out what even to me is a bananas-sounding laugh.
“We are finished here,” Lucifer says, cranky as ever, though he’s successfully arranged for us to go on a wild soul chase at his behest.
Hovering near the demonic war scene on the painted dome of the ceiling, I grapple with what we’ve agreed to. But if we manage it, we can help Agnes and more damned souls. The whole plan. That’s a real purpose in life. I’ll start saving up and I can get my own place, dog-friendly, so Bosch can come along. Although Bosch will not want to live in a place without her best friend Cupcake. Are there dog- and goat-friendly apartments in Lexington?
That reminds me of my actual job, which I can’t bail on today. Wings or no wings. The Great Escape is the family business and always will be.
Just like Hell is Luke’s family business.
“You are dismissed,” Lucifer says.
“Callie,” Luke says. He holds his hand up and waves me down, the gesture tight. “Let’s go.”
Both of them are so far below. My head swims deliriously with it.
“Right.” Swooping down, I do my best to contain my glee at being able to fly. Which was frankly the coolest even when I was hanging on to Luke.
I land beside him. “This is so weird,” I say.
“You’re telling me.” His voice remains strained, and I can understand since he’s getting the short end of the power stick. As in nada. Nothing. Human zip.
Lucifer gives an irritating wave of his wrist. “You don’t have all the time in creation, you know.”
“Callie,” Luke says, and slides his hand down to take mine. “Let’s go.”
“Right,” I say and force myself into a farewell curtsey to Lucifer. The unfamiliar weight of the wings nearly makes me tip over. Porsoth sighs in relief behind me at my observation of protocol.
“Good luck,” Lucifer says with a lazy grin, crooking one finger to tell me to stand.
“You’re going to need it,” Lilith puts in, always helpful.
“I’m feeling lucky.” Not my best retort.
Luke frowns at her as he offers me assistance in getting back to a fully upright position.
That’s when I realize none of them think we can pull off this test either. I already picked up that Lucifer isn’t worried in the slightest. But the rest? Rofocale, Lilith, Porsoth, Agnes … Is Luke doubting too?
The Sean Tattersall guy who Lucifer picked must be impossible to save.
I hate being underestimated. I hate knowing that Luke is used to being treated this way.
We’ll have to do it. Then, I’ll have proven to myself that I know what I’m doing and can make a life of my own out of all this weirdness.
Luke leads me back to the door. But when we reach it my—well, Luke’s—wings are thrust out too wide to get through. I think of them disappearing, but nothing happens. At last, after a throat-clearing from Rofocale, I turn sideways and shuffle through into the hallway. A few gleaming black feathers are lost in the process. They drift to the marble floor.
Luke and Porsoth follow me much more gracefully. Agnes stomps alongside them.
My ungainly winged shimmy earns some amusement from Luke. “You know you can zappity now, correct?” he asks.
He means travel instantly from any one place to another.
“That reminds me.” Because, no, I didn’t and I can’t wait to try it out—does this mean it won’t even hurt now?—but first I take the handkerchief from my pocket that I use to travel between Earth and Hell and present it to Luke. This way he can go back and forth, if I’m not with him for some reason.
Luke stuffs it into an inside jacket pocket and hesitates. “How can she have my powers?” he asks Porsoth. “Is it safe?”
“She’s, ah, stronger than you think.”
I ruffle the wings. My shoulder blades tickle at the move. “It must be weird for you too, seeing me with your wings.”
“You’re a vision,” he says quickly. “And, yes, deeply.” A wicked gleam appears. “I don’t hate it though.”
“Down, boy.” Agnes still looks more thoughtful than usual, so I go for as chipper as possible and pretend it’s smooth sailing. “That actually went better than I expected.”
That’s almost true. I was prepared for a flat-out no. Sure, it’s less than ideal to have to run around and be toyed with for Lucifer’s amusement, but this is for our larger goal.
“It did … what did you expect?” Luke looks at me again and I catch a flash of anxiety before he masks it with his usual veneer of confidence.
“I don’t know.” That much is true. “Not that.”
Porsoth, meanwhile, is pacing, which is the opposite of soothing. I ignore him.
“We should start by locating Sean Tattersall,” Luke says.
I shake my head. “We can’t. I can’t bail on Mom. We have to show up for work.”
“Are you sure we can’t skip out just for today?”
Misgiving at the careful way he phrases the question shoots through me. I shift from foot to foot. “My mom gently read me the riot act. Right before I came today.”
He blinks. “What?”
“She isn’t a fan of me being involved with all this.” I gesture widely and hope he doesn’t ask if that includes him.
“Or with me?”
Of course he picked up on that. “I’m my own woman. But … she’s right. I’ve been phoning it in at work and I need to make a life plan. So now it’s new plan time. We can do all this. Can’t we?”
“All right,” Luke says. “All right.”
Mayday, Houston, going down in flames here … “I’m not—you don’t have to make some big commitment just because…” I want you to. Why can’t I stop talking?
“Don’t worry,” he says, and it’s gentle.
The words comfort me, his innate skill at saying the right thing. Or almost. I cling to the sentiment like a blanket in a snowstorm in Hell. Then it occurs to me he might be telling himself what he needs to hear too.
Porsoth has continued to pace and wring his wing-hands through our entire conversation.
“We got this, right?” I ask. “It’s possible?”
Porsoth keeps pacing.
“Luke? Porsoth?” I prod, when neither responds. “We can do this, can’t we?”
“Not only can we, I’m looking forward to it,” Luke says, not at all convincingly. He turns to Porsoth. “Can you tell us anything about our quarry?”
“I fear he’s set you up to fail,” Porsoth says, and peers at us. “My dear charge and my dear friend, you must not. I fear he must have … plans … if you do. I’m … troubled. I find I cannot reveal what I know about Sean Tattersall to you.”
“Great,” Luke says. “No pressure then. And three days.”
Lucifer’s words come back to me. We don’t have time to waste.
“We have to get going. I’ll zappity us to Earth.”
Agnes moves forward, and touches my arm to stop me. “Callie … You … You were so brave. In there. I didn’t think … I didn’t expect you to mean it.”
I have to swallow over the tightness in my throat.
Then she finishes, “I still don’t know if you have a chance in Hell.”
Okay, Agnes wasn’t going to get that sentimental. I try to touch her shoulder, considering a hug, but she takes two big steps back.
Fine. I wave at Porsoth and take Luke’s hand and try not to grin at the shriek he lets out as we travel across time and space back to Earth, the alley behind the Great Escape, to be precise.
This is going to be some date, all right.
Luke falls to his knees in the alley behind the Great Escape and I remember the horrible sensations from my first long trip by his method.
“It’ll pass in a minute,” I say.
I start to get concerned when it takes five.
He straightens, shaking out his arms and legs, expression hangdog. “I’m so sorry I did that to you.”
I shrug. “You didn’t know.” Then I realize, “But I did. And I did it anyway.”
He considers me, heat in his gaze. “Getting into your new role already, I see. Torture becomes you.”
“No, it doesn’t.” But he’s right. I gave him a taste of his previous medicine—only he didn’t mean to do it. My wings have vanished en route, but there’s a flutter like them in my belly at the thought. I do my best to banish the hint of glee in it.
I thought I’d enjoy our positions being reversed, but instead I feel guilty.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He moves to put his hand on my cheek. Still unsteady, he almost misses. But he recovers by sliding a palm around my neck. I lean into his touch.
“You’re forgiven,” he says. And with a squint, “Also, your senses are not at all acute.”
Funny, because my senses right now are so acute every nerve in the skin of my neck is on fire at his touch. “Rude!” I protest, instead of saying that.
“Try them,” he says. “Try mine.”
I take a look around and understand what he means. Here on Earth, his vision is a different experience. I can focus in on the sparkling water droplet about to fall from the roof next door. If I concentrate, I can hear each bird individually singing. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the brilliance of every color and texture and smell. The smells, so many of them. Rain puddles and garbage dumpsters and cloying flowers …
“Take a breath. You can tune it out,” he says. “Or in.”
I take three in-out, slow and easy breaths, and then I sort of push the world to arm’s length. The ability to focus in more deeply is still there, but I don’t have to pay attention to everything. So I don’t.
“Better?” he asks.
His palm on my skin is an acute burn, but a nice one.
“Yes.” I nod. “Your father is a jerk.”
He smiles. “You like the flying part, though.”
“I think that may be the only part I like.” Lie. Every tiny division around Luke’s perfectly blue irises is apparent to me. I could drown in them like an ocean.
I could lose my mind, drawn into the details by the devil. I shake my head.
“We need to find out more about this Sean Tattersall,” I say.
But we’re interrupted by the back door of the business opening. Mag rushes out and grabs my arm. “It’s about time. Your mom is ticking like a bomb, looking at her watch every two seconds. Get in here. Oh, and hi, Luke.”
“Hi. How did you know we were here?” Luke asks.
Mag holds up their other hand, which has a phone in it. “Find my friends. Plus, Cal always comes back this way.”
“You’re okay?” I check with Luke first.
“Right as rain.”
A saying between us that means something like, “I’ve been better, but I’ll live.”
Mag looks between us. “I don’t have time to figure out what’s going on here. You can explain later. Now…” They step to one side and hold the door open. There’s nothing to do but go in.
I wish hard for my wings to stay hidden and nothing else to give away the current change in my abilities. I won’t be able to explain that without setting off Mom, even if it’s temporary.
We travel up the hallway from the back entrance and find Mom busy at the front desk and Jared preparing stopwatches and paperwork. Outside, there’s a line of people already waiting, many of them in clumps of black or white T-shirts. A few sport elaborate cosplay—horns, wings, slinky red demon outfits, and flowing white angel robes—which automatically earns them extra points in the competition.
“They’re here,” Mag announces.
Mom exhales and bends at the waist before rising to shake a finger in our direction. “I thought you decided to ditch us.”
“Mom,” I say, offended.
Luke offers an easy grin. “What better possible way would we have to spend the day?”
Mom ignores his charm offensive and hustles over to me with a thick folder in her hands. “Here’s your packet. I have you at Thoroughbred Park, okay? Anyone who arrives with the correct password gets the next clue. No hints. No leaving your checkpoint unattended. You should be able to take turns going to the coffee shop next to the park for lunch.” She thrusts the paperwork at me. “Get going. The instructions should be self-explanatory.”
“Mission accomplished,” I say to Mom with a salute.
“Mission what?” She tilts her head.
“I mean, message received,” I say.
She gives Luke a speaking glance next. The thought occurs to me that my mother is wondering if my trip to Hell involved sexytimes. I really do not want her questioning that in any way. Mom and I are close, but we’re nerds. Discuss the latest Dr. Who scandal? Yes. Discuss my sex life? Not since “the talk” in high school and a box of condoms packed next to my Chicago Manual of Style when I went to college.
It’s only then I notice her T-shirt is for the Good vs. Evil competition. Jared and Mag are wearing them too.
Distraction time. “We were in a rush to get here. And now we’re in a rush to leave. Are we supposed to have shirts?”
“Shirts! Yes!” Mom rushes over to a box on the floor behind the counter. She tosses one to each of us. I catch both without meaning to because my reflexes are better than normal. Oops.
I hold one up. They’re baseball shirts: half black and half white, with a haloed version of our logo and the word GOOD on the front and a horned version of the logo with EVIL on the back. One sleeve is bloodred. The other is sky blue.
“These are great,” I say.
“I ordered them from Mag’s design,” Jared says, and the two of them do that sweet moony thing where you can see how much they like each other even from across the room.
“You see what you miss when you’re not around?” Mom says, and pointedly goes back to work.
I manage not to protest that I’ve worked on this nonstop for the past week. When I go to pass Luke his shirt, he puts out a hand to stop me, moving to take off his jacket. He’s about to strip and change right here. Now I do feel like I have a fever.
“Wait,” I manage.
“If you insist,” he says.
“I do.” I drag Luke out the front door by his arm and through the crowd of people who mill and cheer, taking our appearance as a sign the start time is about to come. Once we’re mostly out of sight, I zappity us to our station at the park …
And completely forget to warn him first.