Authors: Michael Alan Nelson
“The b-b-book. I have to find the b-b-b-ook-k-k-k.” Lucifer's teeth chattered like machine gun fire.
“Lucifer, are you all right?” he asked.
She shook her head. No matter how much hot air the vents were blowing over her, the cold wasn't leaving.
“Your lips are blue,” David said. “I'm taking you to a hospital.”
“N-n-n-nothing they c-c-can d-d-do.” Lucifer said. “It's m-m-m-magic.” She could feel the spell's tendrils pulling at her. A consequence of getting too close to a witch who made her home at the bottom of the sea.
David gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. “Magic? Oh, Jesus. What do I do, Lucifer? Tell me what to do.”
“It'll p-p-p-pass.”
“It'll pass? Before or after you die from hypothermia?”
Lucifer didn't respond.
David said, “Okay, we just need to keep you warm until the magic wears off, right?”
Lucifer managed a nod.
“Right,” he said, pressing his foot down hard on the accelerator. In a few minutes, David pulled the car off the highway and toward a rest area where dozens of semitrucks huddled together against the night. David parked his car in an isolated corner of the lot. He stepped out of the car but left it running with the heat on high.
While David rummaged through the trunk of the car, Lucifer concentrated on the hot air blowing over her. No matter how warm the air was, it couldn't get through her skin. The witch's magic had left it as heat resistant as the underside of a space shuttle. Nothing was getting through.
David got back into the driver's seat with a blanket in one hand and a duffel bag in the other. “Take your clothes off,” he said.
Lucifer wanted to retort, make some kind of sarcastic remark, but she was shivering too much to think. But David must have seen a questioning look on her face because he said, “Magic or not, you're never going to get warm in those wet clothes.” He unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants, T-shirt, and his letterman's jacket. “My gym clothes. Don't worry, they're clean.” He sniffed a rolled-up pair of white tube socks. “Ish.”
Lucifer managed a chuckle. David helped her undress and fumble into his gym clothes. He did a rather masterful job of looking away and affording Lucifer some modesty. The shirt was the same gray as the sweat pants, but with his school's orange and blue mascot, the Spartans, emblazoned across the front. The clothes were way too big and not even remotely clean. But Lucifer didn't care.
David handed her his letterman's jacket and said, “Put this on.” As she did, David pulled the socks over Lucifer's blue toes still puckered from the water. Once she had the jacket on and buttoned, David wrapped her in the blanket like a chrysalis. He then produced a small candle. It was a yellow thing with a picture of daisies laminated on the side of the frosted glass. “Winters here can be a bit nasty,” he said. “I keep an emergency kit in the trunk in case I ever break down in the snow.”
Every few minutes a semi would roll into the rest area and park while another would lumber back out onto the dark, waiting road. Rain pattered softly against the windshield as the candle flickered, filling the car with its soft orange glow. Finally, now that Lucifer was dry, bundled, and sitting in a car with its heat blasting and a candle warming the air, she could feel a hint of warmth breaking through the witch's spell.
“I thought you were dead,” David said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I watched you disappear. You were there with the witch, but then there was this bright light. And you were gone.” He looked over at her with a playful scowl. “Really wish you had let me in on that particular part of the plan.”
Lucifer didn't entirely trust her voice, but at least her shivering was no longer measurable on the Richter scale. “A skip s-spell,” she said. “I tried to t-t-trap her in the p-painting. Didn't w-work.” The candle flame moved in a slow, lazy dance.
“Are you getting warmer at all?” he asked.
Lucifer could feel the slightest hints of warmth sliding through tiny cracks in the icy spell. “A b-bit,” she said.
David rubbed his hands over her shoulders, creating as much friction heat as he could. Then he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. Lucifer leaned into him, trying to soak in his body heat. They sat watching the candle flicker as she shivered against his chest.
It was a strange sensation, being this close to someone. Lucifer couldn't remember the last time anyone had held her, not even in the fading and distant memories of her mother. Affection was never something Lucifer thought she needed. She lived in a world of witches and rituals and grand larceny. What was she going to do with a hug? But the tenderness of David's embrace, the calmness, the warmth, was so natural, so perfect, Lucifer couldn't imagine wanting anything else.
David broke the silence and said, “That was the bravest thing I've ever seen anyone do, Lucifer. I don't know how you do it.”
Lucifer shrugged her shoulders but doubted David noticed through her shivering. She nestled in closer. She liked this. She liked being in his arms. She didn't want to think about witches or paintings or anything magical at all. She just wanted to think about David and being here in his arms.
“I don't mean just summoning the witch,” he said. “I mean everything. Being shot at by cops at the gallery, the graveyard, the Worcester House. You're so calm about it all. Like it's nothing. Like it's just another day that ends in âY.' Nothing scares you.”
“Everything s-s-scares me, David. You have no idea how terrifying it is to do what I do.”
“I believe you. So why do you do it?”
“Because . . .”
“Because what? You can tell me, Lucifer.”
Lucifer wasn't sure what to say. Part of her wanted to keep her mouth shut, to drop the conversation and go back to pretending they were just two kids in a parked car. But another part wanted more than anything to tell him everything. She wanted him to see her for everything she was. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't hate her for it.
“There are things out there, David. Dark things. Dangerous things. Even more dangerous than witches. And one of those things is known as the Harlot. A few years ago I did something very, very stupid. I traveled to the Aether where she lives and I stole something from her. Eventually she caught me and . . .”
When Lucifer didn't speak, David said, “And? Did she hurt you?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Lucifer trembled in David's arms, but not from the icy chill of the witch's spell. “She was going to kill me,” Lucifer said. “Instead, she recruited me. At the time, the Aether was overrun with demons and demigods all fighting over who would rule that dimension. So instead of killing me, the Harlot used me as her pawn.”
Lucifer curled in tighter. “I ran from death squads in the favela. Saw so many of my friends just disappear into the night and never come back. I know about death. I know about suffering. But that war, David. The things I saw . . .”
“It's all right,” David said, smoothing her hair. “You're safe here.” David's voice was calming. He spoke to her in soft words that soothed her until, eventually, Lucifer stopped trembling.
The candle had burned halfway down by the time Lucifer found the will to speak again. “When it was over,” she said, “the Aether was a wasteland and the Harlot was the only one left standing. But she wasn't done with me. Putting me through that hell wasn't punishment enough, so she did the worst thing possible: she marked me as her
heir
.”
David gently stroked the side of her head, brushing her tangled hair smooth with his fingertips. Lucifer could feel the heat from his hand slowly penetrating the icy spell that gripped her. “There are worse things than inheriting someone's money,” he said.
“I'm not inheriting her money. I'm inheriting her position. The Harlot is the Keeper of Secrets. Which is exactly what it sounds like. She knows everything, David. I mean everything. She's trapped in the Aether, driven mad by all that knowledge being magically sucked into her brain. And someday that will be me.”
Lucifer sat up and stared out the foggy window. Trucks slipped in and out of the dark, their lights fading like fond memories in the mist. “I should be worried about getting good grades in school or wearing the right clothes, having the right friends. Instead I worry about pict-magic and dimensional shifts and filcher demons. When I finally find myself in a parked car with a boy it's so I don't slip into hypothermia from a witch's spell.”
She reached out from under the blanket and wiped away a small patch of condensation from the window, a hint of feeling coming back into her fingers. “I'm not a good person, David. But I never thought I was a bad person. But I must have done something to deserve this, right?”
“Lucifer, I can't even begin to imagine what it was like to go through what you did, but I can say for certain that you didn't do anything to deserve it.”
“Why else would all of that have happened to me? There has to be a reason.” Lucifer sighed. “I always thought that if I can help enough people, save enough people, maybe that will make up for whatever it is that I did.”
“I don't believe that for a second.”
Lucifer turned to David and said, “Oh, well, thanks.”
“You misunderstand. I don't believe that you help people because it might, someday, help you. You help people because it's the right thing to do. If you knew, for a fact, that all the good you do would do nothing to help you, I believe you would still help. Because you know what it's like. What it's like to be at the mercy of others, to be helpless. You help because you're the only one who can.”
David reached out and put his hands on Lucifer's shoulders. “Lucifer,” he said, “
that
makes you a good person.”
“Oh, please, David, I'm a professional thief. How good could I be?”
“Robin Hood was a thief. And it's not like you're out robbing banks or holding up liquor stores. You keep bad things out of the hands of bad people. You risk your life for people you've never even met. Look at what you've done already to help Gina.”
Gina. The mention of her name filled Lucifer's stomach with an icy guilt colder than the witch's spell. If Lucifer was such a good person, why was she in a parked car with Gina's boyfriend desperately hoping he would hold her again?
Lucifer turned away from David. She couldn't look at him. The guilt was too much. But David reached over and gently turned her back to him. He held her face in his hands. She could feel the heat emanating from his fingers, struggling to break through the weakening spell.
“Lucifer,” he said. The flickering candlelight reflected in his eyes, turning their winter blue into infinitely deep pools of perfect black. They pulled at her just like the witch-tide that threatened to swallow her a few hours ago. Only now she wanted the current to wash her away. She longed to breathe in his sweet waters and let them fill her lungs until she could no longer breathe and she was drowning in him.
David leaned forward, slowly, cautiously. When their lips met, a wave of delicious heat rolled over Lucifer's body, shattering the spell. Her mind raced in a thousand directions at once, but as the warmth of his kiss spread through her, peeling away the frozen remnants of the spell, all of her thoughts melted away until there was nothing left but static.
When they finally separated, David looked at her with his half-smile that Lucifer found so incredibly irresistible. “You're sweating,” he said.
“The spell's worn off. And it's really hot in here.” Lucifer slipped from under the blanket and out of David's jacket.
“Lucifer, Iâ”
“Let's not . . . talk about this now. Please, David. I'm a little confused and, quite honestly, exhausted beyond words.”
David sat back and said, “Yeah, you're right. I'm pretty tired, too. But it's another three hours back to the city. You cool if we just rest here until morning?”
Lucifer nodded. She leaned her seat back and rested on her side, using David's bunched-up jacket as a pillow. Without a word, David pulled her close and rested her head on his chest. As she lay there with her eyes closed, he gently stroked her hair until she fell asleep.
For the first time that Lucifer could remember, she didn't dream.
CHAPTER 20
“Where are we?” Lucifer asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Just now pulling into the city,” David said.
Lucifer stretched then leaned against the window. The sun was up, and most of the rain from the night before had already evaporated. “Why didn't you wake me up?” she asked.
“You needed the sleep. Besides, it's really funny when you snore.”
“I don't snore.”
“Lucifer, you sound like a bandsaw cutting through Bubble Wrap.”
“Two words, David.” Lucifer scowled and said, “Throat. Punch.”
David chuckled. “Okay, okay.” But after a moment, he said, “It was pretty cute, though.”
She gave him two quick hits on the shoulder, almost causing him to steer out of his lane. That only made him laugh harder. She liked his laugh, the way its soft bellow filled the car, how it widened his crooked smile into a beautiful imperfection. But as they drove into her neighborhood, Lucifer's own smile faded as the guilt welled up in the pit of her stomach. Gina was in danger and running out of time. The moon would be full in a couple of days, and here Lucifer was, flirting with her boyfriend the morning after kissing him in a parked car. What was worse was that Lucifer was beginning to resent Gina. Why should Lucifer feel guilty for enjoying David's presence? Shouldn't she be allowed to have friends too?
But people who are just friends don't kiss in parked cars.
Lucifer looked over at David. There was a sadness behind his smile. She could tell that the guilt was eating at him too. Their kiss from the night before sat between them like the proverbial elephant in the front seat of the car, perched on the cup holder wedged between them. Lucifer couldn't get the memory of it out of her head. She remembered the softness of his lips and the incredible warmth that spread over her as the kiss finally broke the witch's spell. As wonderful as it was though, she didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to be reminded that she had kissed the boyfriend of the girl she was trying to save while she was trapped in a hellish death dimension. But it was hard not to be reminded of it when all she could think about was kissing him again.