Earthbound
By sidewinder
Chapter Seven
He wasn't back in this place. He couldn't be. It was over, wasn't it? The pain, the torture, the darkness...it was all supposed to be over. The devil had come to save him from this misery days before.
"Save you?" a sickeningly familiar voice taunted him. "No one's coming to save you, Zeke Stone. No one's coming for you but Ash."
Laughter. Laughter all around him, drowning out his own screams as a blade cut into his flesh, down to bone. Had it all been a dream, a hallucination? Had he merely imagined his rescue? His mind rebelled against the thought, despaired to think that there was in fact no hope, nothing to wish for but for it all to be over, for someone to take out his eyes and return him to Hell.
"You think this is bad now, just wait 'till Ash gets here. She's got plans for you...you and that lady friend of yours...what's her name, Rosalyn?"
Rosalyn? No, not Rosalyn! He couldn't let anything happen to her. She had to be safe. He would endure all of this and more if it meant Ros would be safe. "Leave her...out of this," he managed to gasp, each word a struggle to get past his dry lips.
"Oh, it's too late for that, isn't that right, boys?"
Laughter came from all around him, and then--
"Ezekiel! Oh, God, Ezekiel!"
Her voice. That was her voice crying his name. The sound of it hurt worse than the blade cutting into his body. He raised his head and opened his eyes. Immediately he wished he had kept them closed so he wouldn't have had to see the horrible sight before him.
"Zeke, please, help me..."
Rosalyn. Chained to the wall, facing him, her clothes ripped and bloodied, her body, oh god, the things they'd done to her...
"Rosalyn!" Zeke struggled against his restraints, rallied the last remnants of his strength in a fruitless attempt to free himself. He had to stop them. He had to get to her, before the demons did anything worse. "Let her go, please...she doesn't have anything to do with this!"
"Ezekiel--" His name trailed off in a scream as the demons gathered around her, laughing, sharp blades and glass shards flashing in the dull light of the cavernous room.
"ROS!"
"Ezekiel, wake up! Ezekiel!"
Zeke gasped and struggled against his restraints...hands. Just hands holding him back, he realized, cold hands grasping his arms. The devil's hands.
"You were dreaming, Ezekiel. Screaming loud enough to wake the entire building."
"Dreaming...?" Zeke looked all around him, blinking to clear away his disorientation. He felt sick inside, the nightmarish visions clinging to his thoughts as much as he wished to shake them off, to forget about them forever.
"Yes, just a dream. Though I gather that it wasn't a very pleasant one."
"No, it wasn't." Zeke got up from the bed and went to the window, needing some fresh air.
"Do you...want to talk about it?" the devil asked.
"Why, so you can get your jollies off my nightmares?" Ezekiel snapped back.
"I was only trying to help."
"Just go back to sleep."
"I can't. I had too much of that damn coffee."
"Then watch TV. Or something." Zeke grabbed his sweater and put it on, then started hunting around to find his shoes.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting dressed. Going out." It was nearly dawn, and Zeke knew he wouldn't be getting any more sleep for some time. He had to get busy, think about things other than that nightmare. He could try to pick up Holland's trail, do a little more hunting around to figure out where the demon might show up next.
"Give me a minute and I'll join you."
"If you don't mind, I'd rather work solo today." Zeke donned his coat and felt his pockets. Sure enough, his daily allowance of thirty-six dollars and change was there. He pulled out the money and tossed twenty-five on the dresser, figuring that was enough to keep the devil busy and fed for one day. He certainly had no appetite. "Try not to spend this all in one place, all right?"
"So what am I supposed to do with myself all day?"
"I don't know. See the sites. Catch a movie. Spend a day just...being human. I need some time alone."
"And to work on catching Holland."
"Yeah, that too."
Lucifer didn't look pleased, but Zeke didn't really care. The detective had meant what he said--he needed some time to himself, to concentrate on the hunt without having the devil one step behind him every second, always with him, day in, day out.
"Just try not to get in trouble, all right?" Zeke added as he headed for the door.
"What kind of trouble could I possibly get into, Detective?" Lucifer asked innocently.
Zeke didn't even want to think about an answer to that one.
* * *
The detective spent most of the day driving and walking around to the churches that had been circled in the phone book, the ones marked by Joseph Holland. Every person he spoke to at the different locations was quite aware of the assaults and murders, though none had seen a man fitting Holland's description. He warned them all to be extra careful, and he gave out his phone number to each person he talked to, just in case they thought of something or saw something suspicious going on in the future. At the end of the day, he didn't feel as if he had accomplished very much. The car's gas tank was nearing empty and he only had a few bucks left for the day, so he decided it was time to head back home and check in on Lucifer.
Their room was empty when he arrived at the boarding house, at about quarter of five. There was no note or message indicating where Lucifer had gone, but Zeke didn't worry much about it. The devil was certain to show up soon enough. Zeke crashed out on his bed and decided to take a nap until then. He feared a repeat of the morning's nightmare, but felt drained and the need for a rest won out over his worries.
No dreams haunted his sleep that evening, and Zeke slept soundly, not awakening until after ten. Lucifer still wasn't there, and that was beginning to bother him. Maybe for nothing-- after all, this was the devil he was worrying about. He ought to be able to take care of himself.
But then again, the devil wasn't exactly his old self any longer. He could have gotten himself in some kind of trouble. Which, oddly enough, was a thought that disturbed Ezekiel. A few days ago he wouldn't have cared less, but now he was concerned, at least on some level, about Lucifer's safety.
But what I am gonna do about it? Zeke asked himself. He walked over to the window and looked out at the street. While the sidewalks had been dead earlier in the day, now they were alive with activity, people milling about and moving from one bar to the next. Neon flashed brightly, tempting those passing by to come inside with promises of X-rated entertainment. Maybe Lucifer hadn't wandered far at all, Zeke wondered hopefully. Checking out the dives on this block certainly seemed like the first and most obvious place to look for him, so it was certainly worth a shot.
Zeke took the elevator downstairs and stepped out onto the street, taking a quick look around to decide where to try first. No one place seemed more of an obvious choice than the next, so he just started at the end of the block and worked his way down.
The search didn't end up taking him very long at all. The third establishment that he tried proclaimed itself to be a "gentlemans" club, but judging from the clientele that term was being very loosely applied. Though the lighting was dark and the smoke exceptionally thick, he spotted Lucifer quickly, sitting at one of the tables close to the stage. He was clearly enjoying the entertainment being provided by two topless dancers, and the number of empty glasses on his table indicated that he had been enjoying it for quite some time.
A drunk devil. Terrific. That was just what Zeke needed tonight.
He worked his way through the crowd toward Lucifer. "Having a good time?" he shouted out over the noise as he pulled over a chair to join the devil at his table.
Lucifer's attention was diverted away from the stage by his presence, though it seemed to take a moment for the devil to recognize just who had come to join him. He then broke into a wide smile and laughed. "Zekie! Why, as a matter of fact I'm having a very good time. Who wouldn't have a grand time with all of this--" he waved at the table full of empty glasses, "- -and all of that!" He ended by waving and blowing a kiss at the girls.
"And just how long have you been here, enjoying this and that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Who cares?" He picked up an empty shot glass and waved it in Ezekiel's face. "Did you know, Zekie, that I've never been drunk before? It's marvelous! Now I can fully appreciate the appeal of insobriety." He reached for a half-full glass of beer and downed the amber liquid, made a brief face, and then looked back at the scrawny girls on the stage again. He sighed happily. "I like this place. It's got real character. Lewd, cheap, tawdry...a shining example of some of the very good things I've brought to Earth, don't you think, Zekie?"
"I think we'd better get you out of here, that's what I think." Zeke stood and, when the devil didn't immediately rise with him, grabbed him by the right arm and yanked him out of his chair.
"Ow! You're just no fun, you know that? No fun at all," Lucifer complained, stumbling and colliding with Zeke. "Oh, damn...why is the room spinning...?"
"Come on," Zeke sighed, checking the devil's pants pockets to find out where he'd stashed the money he'd been given in the morning.
Lucifer giggled and said, "Zekie, if you want to get into my pants, can't you wait until we get home?"
"Don't even think about it," Ezekiel snarled, finding the crumpled bills and throwing them on the table, hoping it would be enough to cover the devil's bill and not wanting to hang around long enough to find out. He hooked his arm around the other man's waist and navigated him as quickly as he could across the room and to the door. They staggered across the street, dodging traffic, Ezekiel trying to keep them upright while Lucifer stumbled and wouldn't shut up, rambling on and on about the joys of alcohol consumption. The man on duty at the front desk of the boarding house didn't say a thing as Zeke led his drunk companion to the elevator; he just shook his head, as if he'd seen it all a few too many times before.
The elevator door opened and Zeke pushed his companion inside. Zeke let go of his grasp on the devil for a moment to press the button for their floor. Lucifer immediately collapsed to the ground. "Oh, I don't feel so good..." he moaned, his bubbly mood suddenly turning sour. He burped and clutched his stomach.
"Take it easy, we're almost there," Zeke said, just hoping Lucifer would keep it down until he got them back to their room.
He did--but just barely. Never in Zeke's wildest, weirdest dreams could he have imagined that one day he'd be sitting on a cold tile floor in the bathroom of a fleabag boarding house, watching Satan himself puke his guts out down the toilet.
It wasn't a pretty sight.
When he had emptied the contents of his stomach fully, Lucifer slumped back against the wall, looking sweaty, pale, and ill. Zeke reached over him to flush the toilet, and then offered a cool, damp towel to his companion. Lucifer looked at Zeke and took the cloth. "Thanks..." he mumbled, wiping off his mouth, his forehead, then dropping the towel to the floor with a groan. "So this is what it means to feel like shit."
"Wait until the morning. You think being drunk is bad, wait until your first hangover." Zeke stood up and got a cup of water, which he then handed to Lucifer. "Here, drink this, as much as you can. It'll help."
The devil took it and cautiously sipped from the cup. He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. "I just wanted...to forget for a while, you know, Zekie? That's what they always say drinking is good for--to forget. Forget all your troubles...just forget everything. But you know, I couldn't seem to drink enough to forget everything I wanted to forget."
Zeke knew the feeling. He was more than a little familiar with the urge to drown one's sorrows in alcohol, but he also knew from experience that it didn't work very well. He didn't say anything, though, he just sat next to Lucifer in silence, watching and waiting, wanting to be certain he wasn't going to be so ill that he'd need to go to the hospital.
Lucifer gazed mournfully at Zeke. "I was His favorite, did you know that, Zekie? The most perfect of all His creations. Except I wasn't. Perfect, I mean. Not perfectly subservient to His ideas, at least. No, because I dared to have a mind of my own." He paused for a half-hearted laugh. "And look what that got me."
Zeke almost laughed as well--there was something about the sight a drunken devil moaning about his miserable lot in life that was a little too surreal. Yet the pain he saw in Lucifer's eyes held Zeke's humor in check. It left him uncomfortable, too, those eyes fixed on him, clearly looking to him for some support, some understanding.
Eventually Zeke had to looked away. "Let's get you to bed before you pass out here on the floor," he said hastily. The devil offered no resistance as Zeke helped him to his feet and led him to his bed. Lucifer fell on the mattress with a groan and a barrage of curses. Zeke went back to the bathroom to refill the water glass, then brought it out to leave on the table by the bed in case Lucifer wanted it later. Ezekiel stood back and noticed that the devil looked half-asleep already. In a last act of generosity, Zeke eased the other man's shoes off and tossed them to the floor. He decided that was as much assistance in undressing as he was willing to give, and that he should get ready himself for a few hours' sleep. Tomorrow he would be busy hunting and babysitting a devil who would no doubt be even more of a grouch than usual.
Zeke stripped down to his shirt and shorts, brushed his teeth, and stepped back out of the bathroom. He looked across the room and noticed Lucifer was actually still awake, watching Zeke with a strange expression on his face. Zeke walked over to his bed and kneeled down next to him. "You gonna to be all right?" Zeke asked, surprised at the genuine concern he heard in his own voice.
"No, I don't think so," Lucifer answered, favoring him with a smile--a genuine one, for once, that reminded Zeke of his guardian angel's smile in the fondness it betrayed. "But that's all right. I'll survive. I always do." Still holding Zeke's gaze, Lucifer reached out to touch his face. His touch was light, his fingers cold and trembling slightly as he ran them gently down Ezekiel's cheek.
Zeke was frozen, too stunned by the touch and the look in those eyes to move away. He saw it then, knew that what he'd been told was true-- the devil really did love him. He could see it in Lucifer's eyes and his expression. He could feel it in the soft caress of those fingertips, which left his skin tingling even after Lucifer drew his hand back, and gave Zeke a last glance filled with sorrow and longing before closing his eyes and falling asleep.
Ezekiel didn't move for a long time. He felt disoriented, almost a little dizzy, uncertain of what was going on and what he was feeling.
He hadn't doubted the angel's words before, about what Lucifer felt for him...but it was something different to see it with his own eyes, if only for a second when the alcohol had lowered the devil's defenses. Zeke found himself reaching out for the other man's face, brushing a long strand of hair away from his cheek as he mirrored the way the devil had touched him. Revulsion warred with a strange, inexplicable attraction in Ezekiel's mind as he studied this other being, this creature he could call neither angel nor devil, not human nor demon.
"I don't want to care about you," Zeke whispered. "And I don't want you to care about me. I can't love you. I love someone else...I always will..." he vowed, even as a nagging voice inside him reminded him of the past, of how he had nearly violated that "always" with Ash not so long before. Perhaps his loyalty was not quite so infallible as he liked to believe.
But to fall in love with the devil? No, never. Not a chance. Not after the things he'd put Zeke through. Zeke drew his hand back and shook his thoughts away from such things. He was struck with the urge to go out and hunt, his earlier sleepiness that had brought him back here having faded away. But he didn't want to leave Lucifer alone in case he got sick again, and so instead he went over to his bed, turned on the TV low and flipped through the channels until past sunrise.
Chapter 8
The days that followed passed slowly, without event, and without any progress in the hunt for Joseph Holland. The demon had seemingly vanished into thin air, perhaps frightened off by the confrontation with Ezekiel--either that, or he was simply laying low, biding his time until his next planned assault.
Whatever the case, Ezekiel felt as if he was doing nothing but spinning his wheels, wasting time until something new happened that would put him back on the demon's trail. Zeke didn't want that "something new" to be another dead priest. Each day he checked in at churches which had been on Holland's phone book list, talked with the clergymen to find out if they had seen or heard anything suspicious, but that was getting him nowhere.
Stone's new boss had not made another appearance since that first night in San Francisco. Either he was satisfied with what little progress Zeke had made in the past few days--which the detective thought was unlikely--or he had more pressing matters requiring his attention. Lucifer favored the latter explanation. "No doubt he thought running Hell was going to be an easy job. He had no idea of the intricacies of my work-- no one does! I doubt he'll have any free moments to waste on you for some time," the devil had told him.
Zeke supposed he'd just have to wait and see, but in the meantime he wasn't complaining about being left alone. When he'd satisfied his sense of having done what he could each day to search for Holland, Zeke spent the rest of his time just trying to relax and adjust to the changes in his situation. The nightmares about his captivity and torture continued, not every night but often enough to know it would a long time before he was fully past it, before he had his confidence back. He knew he wasn't operating at one hundred percent, and he knew that might also be why he was running dry on finding Holland. His focus was off, his strength still not what he remembered it being. They hadn't taken his eyes, but his demonic captures had taken some of his spirit.
Lucifer's spirit also had become more subdued than ever. His jibes at Ezekiel had lost much of their old bite, and he fell into dark, sullen moods where he barely said anything, merely responding if asked a direct question and nothing more. He ate, and slept, and had apparently adjusted to the basic needs of mortal existence, but clearly deeper problems bothered him.
Zeke increasingly found himself thinking and worrying about Lucifer. The way the devil had looked at him, that one drunken night, was stuck in his head and he could not shake its impact. The love and sadness he had seen in those eyes had touched something inside of him, as much as he hated to admit it. They never spoke of that night, Lucifer claiming he remembered nothing about his drunken binge and what may or may not have happened afterwards. Whether that was a lie or the truth, Ezekiel didn't know, nor did he press the matter.
They were faced with a particularly sunny, beautiful warm morning when Zeke decided he needed to do something to stir Lucifer out of his growing depression. "We're taking the day off," he announced.
"What?" Zeke's companion hadn't even crawled out of bed yet, even though it was nearly eleven and Zeke had already showered, dressed, gone out for food and read the morning papers.
"I said, we're taking the day off. Just have some fun, for a change."
"You go have fun. I'm going back to sleep." Lucifer pulled his bed cover over his head. Zeke walked over to the bed and yanked the cover off.
"Come on. We're gonna go out and find something fun to do. Something normal, living, mortal people do for fun."
"Why bother? You're not living, and I'm not normal."
"Because it's better than lying around all day doing nothing."
"So you say. I beg to differ." Lucifer rolled over away from the light coming in the window, and curled up in a fetal position, leaving Ezekiel faced with the devil's boxer shorts-covered bottom.
Increasingly annoyed, Zeke slapped his ass. Lucifer yelped and gave the former detective a furious look. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Trying to get you moving. I'm sick of watching you wallowing in self-pity."
The devil's glare turned into an annoyed scowl, and he finally sat up and asked, without much enthusiasm, "So exactly what kind of 'fun' did you have in mind?"
Zeke remembered a listing he saw in the morning's paper and smiled. "You'll see."
* * *
Zeke sprawled out on the grass at Golden Gate Park, eyes closed as the sun beat down and the sweet, sweet sound of skillful blues guitar washed over him. He couldn't imagine Heaven being much better than this--except Heaven would be having Rosalyn lying next to him, not a grumpy devil.
"So. This is what you call having fun?" Lucifer asked sourly, his words setting a jarring note against the music filling the air.
Zeke opened his eyes and sighed, trying not to let the devil's foul mood dampen his spirits. "Yeah. It's called taking it easy-- sitting out in the park on a nice day, listening to a free concert, eating hot dogs and popcorn and ice cream...that's what I call fun."
"Hmph," was all Lucifer had to say in response. Still, Zeke thought that the day's excursion seemed to be having some positive effect on the devil, as he was acting a little more like his normal bitchy self for the first time in days.
Zeke sat up and wondered aloud, "So what would you consider having fun...or do I even want to know."
"Oh, I don't know if your little sanctimonious heart could stand it, Ezekiel. I mean, if there's no agony, no screams of despair, no pain and suffering, then as far as I'm concerned there's simply no fun to be had at all."
Zeke shook his head and turned his attention back to the musicians. They started to play a more up-tempo song, and Zeke watched with a smile as two young children, not more than six or seven years old each, got up and started dancing in front of the stage. What would it be like to be that young again? he wondered idly. To be so carefree, to just be able to get up and dance when the music moved you, to not have any worries at all.
Not that his own childhood had ever been particularly carefree, Zeke recalled more grimly. His father had made sure he was miserable most of the time, especially after his mother had died and there was no one else around the house to suffer the man's drunken abuse. Zeke had wanted children of his own so badly, yet he always had carried the fear, in the back of his mind, that he'd be no better father than his own.
Lucifer managed to pick up on Ezekiel's train of thought, even with his angelic super-senses gone. "Pining for lost innocence, lost chances, Ezekiel? It's not healthy, you know. That kind of stuff just eats away at a man."
"I know. Believe me, I know." He turned to Lucifer and added, "Just like it's not healthy to spend all day hiding in bed, sulking and wallowing in despair. So you're mortal now. You don't like it, but you're going to have to start dealing with it. Try to make the best of it."
"And if you woke up one day to find yourself transformed into a slug, is that what you'd do? Simply 'make the best of it' and not give a damn about everything you've had taken away from you? You'd think, 'Ah, well, I'm a slug now and I'll just have to deal with it.'"
"If I were a slug, I doubt I'd have the brain power to think about much of anything."
Lucifer glowered at him. "You understand what I'm trying to say. You simply have no concept of what I've lost. You couldn't even begin to understand. You're like a slug, Ezekiel, who wouldn't even begin to have a concept of what it would be like to be a human being. That's how different the existence I had before is to the one I have now."
Zeke shrugged and lay back down on the grass. After the upbeat song was finished, the band thanked the audience for listening and announced a short break before the next band would be coming on stage. "I'm curious about something," Zeke remarked. "Just how did you mess it up with God and end up getting kicked out of Heaven, anyway?"
"Surely you've heard that story before."
"Plenty of times, but depending on who tells it, it's always a little different. I'm just wondering what really happened."
"Some subjects do not make for the best idle conversation, Ezekiel," Lucifer warned.
Zeke knew it was a touchy subject, but he was curious to hear the devil's side of things. He didn't press the matter, though, and he let the conversation end at that. Today was supposed to be a day to relax, to not think about Heaven and Hell and demons and missions. The next band started up, and Zeke simply zoned out to the music, and the sound of the children's laughter.
* * *
Night fell over the city, with no news, no suspicious incidents to investigate. Apparently Zeke could take a day off every so often without having the world come to an end around him. He was in bed and asleep before midnight, fully intending to get back to work the next day and hopefully with a fresh point of view.
When the nightmare came to him, it began the same as always, the same as every other night it had come to haunt him since his rescue from the demons. He was in that dark, cavernous place, bound to the wall and in pain, surrounded by the taunts and laughter of his captures. They tortured him as they always did, with words and weapons and anything they could find.
But then somehow, this time, the nightmare shifted, changing shape in that incongruous way that only makes perfect sense in dreams. Now he was one of the tormentors, lashing out at the shadowed man chained to the wall. Rage swirled within him, rage and satisfaction at finally being able to strike back at the one who had hurt him so much, the one who had caused him so much suffering and anguish. Now it was his turn to suffer, and at Zeke's hands, to know what it felt like to be helpless and at the mercy of those who had no mercy to give. Zeke struck with his fists, pounding the restrained man over and over, and then he lashed out with blades and metal pipes, whatever he could get his hands on, whatever his fellow tormentors handed to him.
"That's it, give it to him. He deserves it," they urged him on, and they were right. This one did deserve it, all of this pain and more. Zeke pierced their prisoner's body through and twisted the blade until the man screamed, and damn if it didn't feel good- -good to be the one in control now, the one with all of the power.
"How does it feel now, you bastard. Tell me," Zeke hissed, rage boiling up inside of him as he leaned in closer, "how does it feel?"
His prisoner moaned. Zeke yanked at the man's hair, pulling his slumped head back so he could see the pain and fear on his face.
The gray eyes that met Zeke's looked to him with such shock, anguish, and confusion. "Ezekiel..." the devil gasped his name, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as his last breath escaped his lips. "Why..."
Zeke shuddered violently and awoke with a start--disoriented, as always, uncertain for a moment where he was. Then he glanced across the room at the other bed, where Lucifer lay sleeping, and breathed a shaky sigh of relief that it had all just been another nightmare. Another fucking, awful nightmare, different from the others but no less horrific. Zeke shuddered, feeling ill at the memory of the rage that had filled him, the things he'd done in the nightmare.
"You could do it, you know," a smooth voice whispered from behind his shoulder, startling him.
Zeke twisted around in his bed. The familiar figure stood in the dark shadows of the corner of the room. "What would be the harm in it, Ezekiel? Would the world mourn the death of the devil? I hardly think so."
Zeke shook his head. "I won't do it. I'm not a murderer."
The fallen angel laughed. "No? I think Gilbert Jax would offer a differing opinion on the subject. And don't tell me the thought hasn't crossed your mind, about how easy it would be to just pick up that gun and..." he trailed off and raised his hand, curling his long fingers in an approximation of a gun and pointing it at Lucifer's sleeping form.
Yes, the thought had crossed Zeke's mind-- that first morning, in the shower, while the devil slept on his bed. But he had pushed the thought away and never let it cross his mind again. Speaking each word slowly and clearly, Zeke repeated, "I. Won't. Do. It."
"He's nothing but a burden to you," the other persisted. "A hindrance to getting your job done. I told you before, he's not your problem. You wasted an entire day trying to cheer the pathetic creature up instead of hunting for Joseph Holland. I notice these things, detective. And I don't approve."
"So help me out. Tell me where to find Holland, because I'm at a dead end."
"Oh no, we don't play the game that way. Just mark my words, Mr. Stone. And do take my suggestion seriously. There might even be a little...bonus in it, if you were to rid the universe of this most revolting creature."
"Bonus? What kind of bonus?" Zeke asked.
Someone knocked at the door. Zeke was startled and looked at the door, wondering who it could be. By the time he turned back around, the fallen angel was gone, Zeke's question unanswered. He reached for his gun, steadying his hand as he checked the time--eight in the morning. The person outside knocked again, more insistently this time. Lucifer stirred in his bed, opened his eyes and looked anxiously at Ezekiel.
"This better be good," Zeke muttered under his breath. He held his gun behind his back as he cracked open the door with his other hand.
The manager of the boarding house peered through the crack at him. "Sorry to bother you, Mr. Stone, but there's someone on the phone. Says he needs to talk to you, real urgent."
"Did he say who he was?"
"A priest, Father somethin' or other. Somethin' with a B... he was talkin' so fast I couldn't hardly understand him."
Zeke thought, and then the name came to him in a flash. "Brenner? Father Brenner?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"I'll be right down, keep him on the line." Zeke closed the door and dressed as fast as he could, feeling a mixture of dread and excitement.
"Who is it?" Lucifer asked.
"A priest from one the churches on Holland's list is on the phone. Stay here until I know what's going on."
Zeke took the elevator downstairs and grabbed the phone. "Father Brenner? This is Ezekiel Stone. Are you all right?"
"Detective Stone, I...I'm sorry if I woke you."
"It's okay, just tell me what's happened."
"I...the suspect in those other murders..."
"Yes?"
"Well, I may be paranoid, but I think I may have just seen him. At least, I was out on the street, walking to the church, when...a van passed me by on the street, a white van with no markings. It was moving very slowly. It passed me and stopped, briefly. A few seconds later it started moving again and drove away. It was...well, I felt quite unnerved about it." He laughed uneasily. "I know there are a million vans in the city, but that was the kind of vehicle the man who tried to abduct Father Stanton was driving, wasn't it?"
"Yes. I'm glad you called me about it. Where are you now?"
"In my office."
"I'm on my way, I'll be there in...twenty minutes. Stay there, but call 9-1-1 if anything else happens before I can get there."
Chapter 9
Lucifer refused to stay behind. Father Brenner had calmed down by the time they arrived at his office and was rather eager to dismiss what had happened as mere paranoia on his part. "I hope I didn't drag you out here this morning for nothing, detectives."
"You never can be certain, Father," Zeke told him. Brenner, a tall, thin man who appeared to be in his mid-fifties, certainly fit the general profile of Holland's victims. "I'm glad you called me, whether it turns out to be for nothing, or not. My partner and I are going to keep an eye on things around here today, if that's all right. If that was the suspect this morning, he may come back."
"Yes, of course, that's fine." Brenner glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's almost time for morning confessions, if I may..."
Zeke nodded. "Go about your business as usual today. We'll stay close, but out of your way as much as possible."
"Thank you, gentlemen."
Stone and Lucifer followed Brenner out of his office, out through the narrow alley that separated the rectory from the church. While Brenner went on ahead, Zeke paused in the alley, taking a good look around. He looked up and noted that the rectory was a building four stories high, with a fire escape leading down into the alley. The alley itself seemed to be a dead end, with only an exit onto the street facing the front of both the rectory and the church.
"You seem quite certain it was Holland this morning," Lucifer observed while Zeke continued surveying their surroundings.
"He had to show up again sometime, and this church was on his 'list'. Even if I spooked him the other night, he's a man with a mission. He's not going to stop until his work is done...and that seems to be eliminating every priest in this city that reminds him of the one who abused him as a child."
"I like a man who sticks to his guns, finishes what he begins," Lucifer said with a small smile.
"Figures you would approve."
"I approve in theory, but not in practice. If Joseph Holland were in fact alive and working his way, step by step, toward eternal damnation by killing these men, I'd be thoroughly pleased with his progress. The problem is, Ezekiel, he's dead. His soul is already mine, and he should be in my kingdom, where he belongs--not traipsing about Earth still, thinking he's gotten the better of me."
Zeke was going to make a remark about Hell no longer being Lucifer's kingdom, but he thought better of it. Instead he simply shrugged his shoulders and muttered, "Whatever." He had a feeling this was going to be a long day of sitting and waiting, potentially for nothing, and he didn't want to start in with it with Lucifer this early in the morning.
* * *
Hours passed, with Ezekiel and Lucifer trying to remain discreet as they shadowed Brenner through his daily schedule of morning and afternoon prayer services, confessions, and meetings. Ezekiel saw no signs of Holland, but he hadn't really expected the man to make his move--if he was going to--in the middle of the day. As evening approached, the former detective began to grow more alert, more on-guard for potential trouble. Lucifer merely grew more irritable and bored.
"I told you, you didn't have to come with me this morning," Zeke said after Lucifer let out an exceedingly loud yawn. "You could have stayed back at the hotel."
"Either way I'd be bored out of my head. Though maybe I wouldn't be so damn uncomfortable." With a sigh Lucifer got up from the pew he'd been trying to lay down on, and rolled his shoulders and neck to work out some kinks. He walked over to stand beside Ezekiel, who had taken a moment to light a candle for Marta Diamond, the woman who'd had the misfortune of living in Holland's former residence. Given that no one seemed to have noticed her disappearance, he doubted anyone else was saying a prayer for her.
"If Holland shows up, stay out of it, stay out of sight. I don't want to have to worry about you, on top of worrying about him," Zeke ordered.
"I can take care of myself," Lucifer insisted.
Zeke wasn't so certain, but he heard the defensive note in Lucifer's voice and didn't push the matter. "I still think you shouldn't have come along. You being here... it just bothers me."
"What do you mean, Ezekiel?"
Zeke shrugged. "The devil in the house of God. It somehow doesn't seem...right."
Lucifer chuckled softly. "But you forget, Ezekiel, I am always here. Where there is light, there must be darkness. Even the brightest light must cast a shadow...and that is what I am, the shadow cast upon this world by His light." Lucifer held his hand before the candles, as if by example, his fingers casting long shadows upon the floor. "At least, that is what I used to be...but what am I now? Just another pathetic mortal human?" He laughed softly again. "First I am cast from Heaven because I refused to bow down before mortal man. Now I am transformed into one of the very creatures I despise...I suppose it is His final act of vengeance against me. I must give Him some credit for the idea--I could not have devised a more fitting revenge myself."
Zeke studied the fallen angel beside him, a thought forming in his mind as he reflected on Lucifer's words and recent events. "Have you considered the possibility that...maybe God isn't punishing you by taking away your powers, making you human? Maybe...I don't know...maybe this is actually some kind of...reward."
"A reward?"
"Yeah. For saving me, even when you knew you would have to pay a big price for interfering." The idea grew clearer in Ezekiel's mind as he spoke. "Maybe, I'm thinking, this could finally be your chance to get back into Heaven--as a mortal human, who has to live, and then die, and then be judged for your actions here on Earth."
Lucifer, for a moment, seemed to consider Ezekiel's idea seriously. But then he shook his head. "It's an interesting theory, Ezekiel, I'll give you that much. But He would never grant me the chance for redemption after my 'original sin'...just as He will never, not as long as I exist, no matter in what form, see me asking for His forgiveness. I have not changed my opinion on the proper place of man in this universe. I will never forgive Him for placing angels below mankind in His esteem. Never."
"Maybe being just 'a man' for a lifetime will give you a different outlook on things. I think you've already begun to care about mankind more than you want to admit--because then you'd have to admit that you'd been wrong about something. And I know how much you hate doing that."
Lucifer glared at Ezekiel, but before he had a chance to answer, both men turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Brenner. "Good evening, gentlemen. I just wanted to let you both know, my work is finished for the day. I was about to retire to prepare dinner--you both are welcome to join me."
"Thank you for the offer, Father, but we're fine."
"Will you be staying here to watch for this man all night?"
"If that isn't a problem. I have a feeling if our suspect is going to try anything, it will be during the night, or early morning-- it would fit the pattern of the other attacks, times when his victim was most likely alone." Stone paused; he'd had an idea earlier in the day about how he might be able to set a trap for Holland, and the time had come to see if Brenner would be up for putting it into action. "Father, there's an empty apartment in the rectory, isn't there?"
"Well, yes. I've been awaiting a new cleric since Father Mathews died, several months ago. Why?"
"I think you should stay in that empty room tonight, instead of your own apartment. It's an idea I have, to catch the killer, and hopefully keep you out of harm's way tonight..." Brenner and Lucifer both stepped closer as Ezekiel outlined his plan.
* * *
The voices never left him alone.
They were always whispering, crying, tormenting him--sometimes so loudly he couldn't think, couldn't do anything but scream in pain and wait for them to quiet down again. Most of the time, they were just there, like an itch could never scratch, always reminding him of what he had done, of the sins he had committed.
[--why me why me why why why why--]
[--stop it please I don't want to no--]
[--I want to go home I want my mommy--]
[--stop it NO stop it stop it stop stop STOP--]
Always there, always, voices that would have driven a living man insane. But he was dead, and he couldn't go insane. God had made sure of that, because insanity would have been an escape from these eternally tormenting voices.
He knew it was God's fault. All of it. Ashur had explained it to him once, how wicked and cruel God was, and her words had made perfect sense to him. After all, it had been one of God's servants who had made his childhood miserable, who had taken away his innocence and taught him how to fear, how to hate, how to hurt. And it was God who had sent him to Hell to suffer for eternity, alone except for the cries of his victims.
Ashur Badaktu had been the first voice he'd heard, outside of his victims, for a time he would later learn had been nearly forty years. "I will take you with me," she'd promised, "and eventually I will make the voices go away. But you have to do one thing for me."
And when she explained what he'd have to do, he'd only been too happy to agree to it. She had a plan to destroy God's power on Earth, and he would help her by destroying those who spread His word. They deserved to die-- all of them. But he was only one man, so he would have to start out small, do it one by one. And he would choose those who were most like the one who had led him down this tormented path to begin with.
Joseph Holland stood on the street across from the church. Father Brenner was going to die tonight. He had almost grabbed him this morning off the street, but the priest had spotted his van, given it a suspicious glance, and Holland had known he had missed his window of opportunity. But he had to move swiftly, now. He couldn't wait too much longer. Soon he knew he should move on to another town anyway--there was too much talk about his work, now, in the media, too much suspicion and paranoia. And that damned servant of the devil now, too, trying to stop him.
[--Oh God, don't make me, I don't want to--]
[--I promise I won't tell, I promise--]
He would have to take his work elsewhere, keep moving. This might be his last victim here in San Francisco, he wasn't certain. It depended on how satisfactorily things went this evening. He'd like to be able to purge this city of every last one of these men, but he knew Ashur didn't care where he collected his victims. She just wanted dead priests; she didn't care about their age or race, or even what faith they happened to follow. If they spread the word of the One God, then they had to die. To her, it was as simple as that.
But it wasn't quite so simple to Joseph, so he would do things his own way. He liked to take his time with his victims, draw out the suffering for a few days at least. It wasn't as if Ashur was there, keeping track of his every victim. Last he'd heard, she was busy with her own work, burning churches, finding other ways to destroy God's faith.
[--please don't you're hurting me please stop--]
The voices were hushed now, just a soft buzz in the back of his brain. He hoped they would stay quiet until he finished this business with Father Brenner tonight. He didn't need the distraction. They had been too noisy, too bothersome the other morning when he'd tried to take down Stanton. Otherwise he wouldn't have botched the job, lost his van and had to go through the bother of stealing another vehicle. Between that, and then that damned soul hunter sneaking around his place, he was behind schedule. The need for vengeance was worse than ever, gnawing at him in the back of his brain.
He'd be more careful this time, he thought, reassuring himself that all was ready and just as it should be.
[--help me... help... help... --]
He leapt, his demonic strength giving him the extra boost he needed to reach the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder. He moved swiftly but as quietly as he could, trying not to make too much noise as he made his way up to the third floor of the rectory building. He knew exactly which window belonged to Brenner's bedroom, for he had seen the light on inside there previous evenings. It usually went on at seven, and went out at ten-thirty. Tonight had been no different from the priest's usual routine. He had waited a half-hour after seeing the lights go out to make sure the man was asleep before moving ahead with the plan.
He made it to the third floor; so far so good. He nearly laughed aloud when he looked at the window and saw that Brenner hadn't even closed it entirely. This was almost going to be too easy! Surprise the man, knock him unconscious, get him outside and back to the van as quietly as possible. Holland had it all planned out in his mind, saw each step in exact detail as he slid the window all the way up and carefully stepped inside.
In the dark, he could just barely make out Brenner's figure, lying in his bed. He approached quietly, clenching his fist, ready to strike a knock-out blow to the head, knowing he only had to be careful he didn't strike so hard that he killed Brenner before he got to have any fun with him. The man in the bed didn't even stir.
[--don't please don't hurt me please it hurts it hurts--]
He paused, suddenly getting the feeling that something was wrong. Very wrong. The man in the bed--
Ezekiel rolled over and flew at Holland just as the demon realized what was wrong. Holland shrieked in rage and the two demons fell to the ground, struggling.
"Your Get Out of Hell Free pass has been cancelled, Holland," Zeke hissed as he struggled to keep Joseph pinned to the ground while he got out his gun. "Time to go home."
"NO! I won't go, I can't go! They have to die first, all of them! And you as well!"
Holland's rage turned his grip--his entire body--burning hot. The heat burned Ezekiel's flesh; he was forced to loosen his grip and Holland rolled free, kicked Ezekiel and sent the detective flying across the room and into the wall. Zeke heard a crashing noise, watched as Holland burst through the door and started rushing down the stairs. Zeke followed after him as soon as he was physically able. He prayed that Brenner had followed his warning not to come out no matter what he heard happen tonight, not until Ezekiel or Lucifer told him it was safe. Lucifer was supposed to be waiting outside, in the car, ready to trail Holland should he make a run for it like he had the last time.
Zeke rushed down the stairs, gun in his hand, trying to catch up with Holland. This hunt was going to end tonight, one way or another, of that much Zeke was certain.
Stone burst into the alley, scanning quickly to see which way Holland gone: into the church, or out the alley to the main street. As he looked down the alley toward the street, he stopped cold, nearly falling as he halted his momentum so abruptly.
Holland hadn't gone very far. He stood there, halfway to the street, holding Lucifer in front of him like a shield. He held a knife to the devil's throat.
Zeke wanted to scream in frustration. What the hell was Lucifer doing here?! He was supposed to be waiting in the car, dammit. He was supposed to stay OUT of the confrontation.
"This one's with you, isn't he? Out here waiting, thinking you could trap me," Holland growled. "Another one of the devil's fucking servants, here to send me home? What if I send HIM back home to Hell, what would you say to that? Maybe you wouldn't care, maybe I should just fucking slit his throat." Lucifer's already panicked eyes widened and Zeke heard a whimper of fear as Holland pressed the blade closer against his throat. "Oh, but what was it Ashur told us all? Something about the eyes, watch your eyes. Do you want to watch me cut his eyes out of his head?"
"Let him go. He's not involved in this."
"I don't believe you. Now drop the gun, and stay back, or else this one here gets it."
When Ezekiel didn't immediately react, Holland screeched, "Drop it!" and raised the blade to point at the devil's left eye.
Zeke had no choice. He lowered his gun, let it slip to the ground. "Okay, Holland, let him go..." he urged gently.
"Not until I'm out of here," Joseph said, slowly walking backwards toward the street. "Don't move, I mean it!"
The seconds stretched on as Holland made his slow escape. Ezekiel stood dead still, afraid the slightest movement might set Holland off. He kept his eyes locked on Lucifer's. As furious as Ezekiel was at the devil for not sticking to the plan, at that moment he couldn't think about it. He had to concentrate on the immediate situation, to be ready to rush after Holland the instant he released Lucifer--or if Holland suddenly decided to not honor his end of the bargain.
They were almost at the street. Joseph was getting twitchy, still holding Lucifer tight but his blade wavered. Walking backwards, Joseph could not see where he was walking. His heel caught on a cracked section of pavement. He lost his balance briefly and his grip loosened as he instinctively panicked and tried to remain on his feet.
Lucifer reacted swiftly, slipping away from Holland's grasp as soon as it loosened. From that moment on Stone focused only on Holland. With inhuman speed he grabbed his gun and ran into the street after the fleeing demon, not about to let him escape this time.
Zeke's determination fueled his pursuit. He ran after Holland, down the street, around the corner and then into another alleyway. For a moment, Zeke panicked and stopped, remembering the last time he'd followed a demon blindly into an alley. He shook the memories off of him, and only took heed of the warning voice in his head that cautioned him to remain entirely alert, ready for anything. He started running again and finally overtook the fleeing demon, leaping at him, sending them both flying to the ground.
Joseph struggled to fight him off, kicking, lashing about, his flesh searing to the touch but Zeke refused to let go. The pain meant nothing, did not distract him, and neither did the ghostly whispers filling his ears, the sound of children crying and begging for mercy. As soon as he had Holland pinned beneath his body, he fired, the first shot missing but the second landing directly in his left eye. A third shot took out the right. Zeke flew backwards, knocked away by the force of Holland's soul bursting out of its shattered demonic vessel. Holland's screams filled Zeke's ears, as the light of his soul swirled about the air and then vanished, sucked down into the earth, down on its way back to Hell.
Pain seared Zeke's right arm. He pulled back his shirt sleeve to see which mark on his body was Holland's, to watch it dissolve away. Soon the tattoo was gone, as was the pain.
Zeke sighed, then got to his feet. One more down. Seventy-seven to go. He remembered Lucifer in the alley and started running back to the church, wanting to be certain both he and Father Brenner were all right.
Chapter 10
Zeke found both Lucifer and Brenner inside the rectory. Zeke assured Brenner he wouldn't have to worry about any attempts on his life now, and skillfully tried to avoid getting any more specific than that as to what had happened to his potential assailant. Lucifer looked fine, but clearly he was shaken. Zeke didn't say anything about what had happened until they were in the car and driving back to their hotel.
Then he exploded.
"What the HELL were you doing in that alley! I told you to stay in the car."
"I thought I could help."
"By doing what, nearly getting yourself killed?"
Lucifer didn't answer at first. After a while he said, his voice much softer than usual, "I wanted to be useful. To do something of slightly more value than sit and wait in the fucking car."
They reached a stoplight, and Zeke turned to look at his companion. "This is my job, remember? Not yours. You want to help, then you tell me what you can about the rest of the demons I have to find. And then you let me do what I have to, which includes protecting you. Okay?"
Lucifer nodded. The light changed and Zeke continued driving. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.
Back at the hotel, Lucifer barely took the time to kick off his shoes before collapsing on his bed. He wrapped himself up in the blankets like a cocoon, complaining about the cold air, that he was freezing.
Zeke didn't feel tired himself--at least, he didn't feel as if he could get any sleep at the moment. He was too wound up and wired from the night's confrontation. Instead he wanted a shower, a long one, to try to wash away the last remnants of Joseph Holland even if the demon's name no longer marked his skin.
He went to the bathroom and ran the water until it was steaming hot, far hotter than any human would be able to stand, but he embraced the heat. If only the scalding water could burn and wash away the remaining seventy-seven tattoos from his body, he thought.
Seventy-seven...so damn many of them. Zeke looked down at his arms and chest, at the intricate pattern of angelic script marking him as the devil's servant. There were a few bare spots where the tattoos were gone now, but so few, it seemed, and so many still there to be captured. He had come so close to failing so many times already; how could he hope to make it through seventy- seven more encounters? With the remaining ones banding together, and learning of his mission to stop them...never mind his new duty, protecting the one who had orchestrated all of their torment for so very long...
Zeke tried not to think of the magnitude of his task like this, for inevitably it led to feelings of hopelessness and sorrow. He sunk to the floor of the shower stall, lost in his thoughts. The water pelted his body, his face, but he barely noticed it now, not until the hot water ran out and turned cold. The chilly water pounding his skin eventually startled him out of his brooding state of mind.
Standing, he finally turned the water off. 'I can't let it get to me,' he said to himself. 'You can do this. One day, one demon at a time.' The devil had chosen him for this mission out of all the billions of souls in his domain. Lucifer must have believed he could do it. Ezekiel just had to remind himself of that, and try to restore his own confidence that he could.
He dried off and put on his shorts, got ready for bed. Stepping out of the bathroom, he looked across the room at Lucifer's bed, and frowned. The pile of blankets the devil had buried himself under appeared to be shaking, and Zeke didn't think it was just because of the cold.
He'd been expecting this, actually, only wondered how long it would take until Lucifer cracked under the strain of recent events. Zeke had thought he'd enjoy seeing the devil suffer; now, he found he felt no joy, no satisfaction because of it. Ezekiel walked over to Lucifer's bed, and hesitated only a moment before he sat down on the edge of it, asking himself what he should do next--what he was willing to do. Lucifer was turned away from him, so he reached out and touched his shoulder, which was just barely peeking out of the top of the blankets. "Still cold?" Ezekiel asked.
After a brief pause, Lucifer answered, "Freezing."
Zeke lifted the blankets enough to slide under them, to rest beside the other man. Then he moved closer, slipping his arm around Lucifer's waist and lying close against his back. He felt Lucifer's body go stiff in response to the embrace. "Sometimes body heat works the best," Zeke explained.
Lucifer relaxed, slightly. He didn't say anything, he barely moved, but slowly Zeke felt him relax into his embrace. Then he started shaking again. Ezekiel held him tighter, waiting for him to be able to let it go and let the tears fall that he was obviously fighting back.
Eventually they came--hard and not quietly, but through desperate sobs that shattered the silence of the still, early morning hours.
None of it felt real to Ezekiel, even though he knew he wasn't dreaming. But how did he wrap his brain around this? He was lying in bed, nearly naked, with the devil in his arms...and he wanted to be there, he wanted to help. He had seen the terror in Lucifer's eyes that night, when he had been mere seconds away from losing his suddenly mortal life. And he had seen Lucifer's love for him--he was here, still on Earth instead of back in Hell, because of that love. How could he turn his back on Lucifer now? He couldn't; it wasn't in his nature, no matter who Lucifer was, or had been, or had done in the past.
The torrent of tears passed almost as quickly as they had begun. The shuddering of his body slowed and Lucifer's breathing gradually returned to a more normal, steady pace. Eventually he let out a deep sigh, and quietly said, "Thank you."
"It's okay," Zeke answered, his tone of voice equally soft. He didn't move away, though. In truth, he hadn't held someone-- anyone--close like this since before his death, over fifteen years ago, and he'd almost forgotten how soothing it could feel.
Lucifer found and gripped Zeke's arm, holding it tight, like a lifeline. "Tonight I learned what mortality really means, Ezekiel. To know that one day, you will die- -that in fact you could die at any moment, any second. I've never felt so...helpless. I'm still...scared. Terrified, to be honest."
"I know."
"Yes, yes, you know, but you can't understand! Not what it's like to go from what I was, to this. Even if I tried to explain it to you, you could never comprehend." Lucifer drew in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, one last shudder passing through him.
They fell silent, then, for some time. Lucifer's grip on Zeke's arm lessened, but his hand remained there, letting Zeke know he still needed him close. "When they caught you," Lucifer began, "I knew you had no chance. I hadn't realized what was going on, that they planned to trap you, otherwise I would have warned you. I would have at least done that much, Ezekiel. But it was too late."
Zeke said nothing, just listened, letting the devil say what he had to say. "I tried not to care. After all, I could simply choose another to finish your task. I tried to ignore what they were doing to you, but I couldn't. Every minute...every second that passed it was getting worse, knowing that I couldn't help you because it was not allowed
"Finally I couldn't take it any longer. I was mad with rage, with this...this impotence forced upon our kind by His rules while you suffered more than you ever had deserved. In the end I didn't care what He did to me for it. I had to stop them." Lucifer's voice, which had been rising as he told him story, dropped down once more as he finished, "Still, I didn't expect this."
"If you'd known what would happen...would you still have done it? Or would you have left me there?"
The devil fell silent. "I think...I think I still would have stopped them," he finally answered. "I told you before I was a fool. I suppose my brother is right; I have gone 'soft'." He chucked softly. "Well, Ezekiel, how does it feel to know you've brought down the devil? It must give you some sort of satisfaction after the way I've treated you."
"Actually, it doesn't. I've never found other people's misery something to celebrate."
"No, you haven't, have you? I always thought that was one of your faults."
Nothing else was said for some time. "Ezekiel?"
"Yeah?"
"It's come to my attention that you're rather... well, almost naked."
"You're just noticing this?"
"I had other things on my mind before."
"You want me to get dressed?"
"I want..." Lucifer paused, and finally turned to face Ezekiel. His eyes met Zeke's, revealing uncertainty, and his love. "I want something that I don't think you could ever give me," he said with a sad smile that got to Ezekiel more than he wanted to admit.
Zeke was in turmoil, inside. He shouldn't be able to give Lucifer what he wanted, to return his love. Not after fifteen years of Hell. Not after the sick games the devil had played with Zeke's soul, the way he'd toyed with Zeke's feelings, taunting him about his wife. No, he shouldn't be able to return the devil's love. He didn't.
But he did feel...something, and he realized that something was far from hatred. He didn't want to analyze his feelings too closely, not yet, not now. But there was certainly sympathy there, and protectiveness, and a growing sense of...friendship, of a kind, and maybe something a little bit more than that.
Zeke reached up, with one hand, to touch the other man's face. He studied it with his eyes, and with that hand, touching the striking features that had once been mere illusion and now were truly sculpted of human flesh and bone. Those features somehow still seemed unreal, somehow inhuman, on that face etched by centuries of emotions, eyes that had seen unimaginable things, both tremendous and terrible. Zeke pulled his attention back from the details and noted that expression on Lucifer's face was now one of confusion, surprise...and perhaps, a small glimmer of hope.
Before he could think better of what he felt compelled to do, Zeke leaned in close enough to meet Lucifer's mouth for a kiss--brief, light, little more than the slight touch of their lips. Zeke pulled back before it could deepen, feeling as if his heart should be racing, except that he had no pulse, no heartbeat that could quicken. Still, something pulsed inside him, whatever energy or force that gave his body the illusion of life. Yet Zeke was frozen by indecision and sudden fear. He knew he could still pull away completely, let the moment pass. He could go to his own bed and sleep, forget this had ever happened, or at least try to.
Or he could give in, and give Lucifer at least some of what he wanted--Zeke's comfort, if not his love. It was, Ezekiel had to admit, what he also wanted, at least some part of him that had known no comfort for far too long. To be held, kissed...loved by someone who understood. And no one, perhaps, could understand Ezekiel better now than the devil.
Zeke didn't take long to make his decision, not under the unblinking, expectant gaze of the other man's eyes. He leaned back in to kiss Lucifer again, this time lingering, allowing himself to really feel it. Lucifer responded, cautiously at first, as if he too could not really believe this was happening. Zeke silenced his own remaining doubts as he reveled in the feeling of human contact. Lucifer's lips parted and Zeke ran his tongue over them, tasting and exploring. Lucifer tasted like cool, fresh water to him, water that quenched a thirst that went down to Ezekiel's soul. The more he tasted, the more he wanted. The energy pulsing inside of him grew, spreading, and he could feel himself getting hard already.
Lucifer moaned against his mouth as Zeke's touch became more intense, his kisses harder. Zeke slipped his fingers into the other man's hair, caressing the long silky strands that were so inviting to the touch. He would save worrying about why this felt so good, so right, for later. Much later. He needed this, wanted it more with every second. The devil's hands were all over his body, stroking his sides, his back, his stomach. Their touch was so warm. So alive! Zeke ached for that, to feel the warmth of someone who was living--not a pretender like himself, a dead man inhabiting flesh that no longer truly belonged to him. He tugged Lucifer's shirt free from his pants and slipped one hand inside, stroking the other man's warm, flat and smooth stomach. Lucifer shuddered at this touch, breaking their kiss to catch his breath.
Zeke kissed his throat, licked and savored the taste of salt and sweat. Human tastes, so human. He'd missed that...why hadn't he noticed their absence, when he'd kissed Ash? Had he been so blinded by desire and her disguises to see the truth, to feel what was missing? Lucifer moaned as Zeke teased the sensitive skin with his teeth and tongue, and yes, Zeke had to admit to some dark thrill to it, knowing this was the devil he was with, the devil who he could make moan with need. He moved lower, pushing the shirt up over Lucifer's head, kissing, tasting, then circling one dark, erect nipple with his tongue. He bit it playfully; Lucifer yelped in surprise. Zeke laughed and teased more gently, then eventually moved back to Lucifer's mouth, hungry for another taste.
After a time, Lucifer had enough and urged Zeke onto his back, forcing him down against the mattress with a demanding kiss and the weight of his body. The devil sat up, straddled Ezekiel's hips and looked down at him with eyes no longer revealing any confusion, only passion. His gaze followed his hands as they ran over Stone's chest and stomach, a wicked smile crossing his lips. "You know, Ezekiel, I could have taken you, at any time. I wanted to, I came so close so many times to just having my way with you. But this, this is what I really wanted. For you to want me, to come to me without force, of your own free will..."
Zeke arched under his touch as Lucifer's fingers brushed against his nipples, then slowly trailed down to his belly, and settled over his cock, rubbing it through the thin fabric of Zeke's shorts. Zeke arched as much as he could into that touch, wanting it, wanting more. "You do want me, don't you?" Lucifer asked, even though the answer had to be quite obvious.
"Yes..." The light teasing touch of those fingers was not nearly enough. There was no arguing why he wanted this now; there was only the warmth of Lucifer's hands, the wet heat of his mouth against Zeke's lips, throat, and chest. He pulled at the devil's pants, wanting to be rid of the clothes that kept that body from touching his own. Lucifer took the hint and sat up enough to strip entirely and take similar care of Zeke.
Then Lucifer was on top of him, kissing him again as their bodies were at last free of all clothes, all barriers. In time, the heat between them grew almost too much to bear-- with every movement, pleasure shot through Stone's body as his penis rubbed against Lucifer's sweaty skin. His self control was slipping fast, especially when Lucifer slid down the bed and took Zeke's erection in his mouth. He tried to hold out, but soon he was thrusting up to meet those wet lips, desperate for more, for release. "Oh, God!" he cried before he could stop himself as he came, trembling and bucking under the devil's touch. His inhuman body released no semen or other fluid, no physical residue of his pleasure, but inside, the energy that filled him was humming. It wasn't the same as when he'd been alive, but it was as good as he'd felt since he'd died, and that was nothing to complain about. Pleasure and relief washed over his body, and Lucifer slid back up against him, a smug smile on his face.
"Seems I haven't lost all of my many talents, eh, Ezekiel?"
"Horny devil..."
"Oh please, as if I haven't heard that one before."
"Yeah, but it's true enough, isn't it?" Zeke ran his hand over the other man's still-hard erection. Lucifer squirmed as Zeke stroked it, slowly, watching and enjoying the way Lucifer responded to him. The devil shuddered and sighed, making enticing, small noises of pleasure. Zeke rubbed his thumb over the damp head, circling it, then eventually went back to long strokes, harder this time, as he also leaned in to kiss the man's neck.
"Ezekiel...oh, yes...!" Lucifer clung to him, fingers of one hand digging into Zeke's back, nails clawing at him as he kept at it, not stopping until Lucifer cried out his name again and his whole body spasmed. Zeke kept stroking his cock, until the warm, slippery fluid that coated his hand began to cool and grow sticky.
Lucifer curled in to Zeke's embrace, kissing him hard again, hard until the heat between them finally began to fade. Then the devil rested his head against Zeke's chest and sighed; he seemed to have gone completely slack and boneless, in the aftermath of his own release. Zeke was convinced that he'd fallen asleep, until he finally spoke up and proclaimed, "Well, that was... different."
"Different?" Zeke repeated, not sure he would describe what had just happened as merely "different".
"As a human. And with someone...who actually meant something," the devil explained awkwardly. "Everything's so damned different now."
"Give it time," Ezekiel answered.
"I don't want to give it time! I want to be myself again." He raised his head and met Zeke's eyes, fire burning in his own. "I want to show you how I could have made love you before, Ezekiel. The things I could have made you feel...the things we could have shared..." He shook his head. "You have no idea what it could have been like."
"Maybe, someday, you'll get the chance to show me." Lucifer didn't appear at all convinced. "Look, you don't know you'll be stuck like this forever; you've got to be optimistic about things."
"Optimism? Been there, done that, look where it got me." The devil settled back against Zeke and yawned.
"Tired?" Zeke asked.
"Dead tired."
"Then get some sleep." Zeke brushed his hand gently through Lucifer's hair.
"Ezekiel?"
"Yeah?"
"Just...thank you."
Silence fell over the room, though outside the city was just beginning to awaken, the sounds of early morning activity starting to creep in through the window.
Lucifer was asleep in minutes, his breath falling steady and warm against Zeke's chest. Zeke also felt amazingly lethargic all of a sudden and ready to steal a few hours rest. Soon enough there would be another demon to hunt down. Sooner than he no doubt would want to, he'd have to deal with Ash. And as soon as he woke up, later in the day, he'd have to deal with what he'd started here tonight. For the moment, however, he was going to forget about these things. He was going to do the one thing he hadn't done in years, something he'd never thought he'd do again.
He was going drift asleep in the arms of someone who loved him.
* * *
End
go on to the sequel, "Aftershocks"...
