“I know you don’t have to eat or drink,” I start, getting two wine glasses from the cabinet. “But do you want anything?” I ask my dad. Lucifer drank, so I know it’s possible for angels to consume food, unlike vampires. It raises a few questions, though. If food goes in, it has to come out, right?
“No, but thank you.” Michael sits at the island, resting his hands on the counter. I pull Thanksgiving leftovers from the fridge as Lucas grabs plates and forks for Kristy and me. Kristy fills her wine glass and leans against the counter on the other side of the kitchen from Michael.
“What would you like?” Lucas asks me.
“A bit of everything,” I tell him and pull a pie from the pantry. “As much as I’d like to sit and eat, I know you’re short on time.” I pick up a fork and don’t bother with a plate. I shovel a forkful of pie into my mouth. I can’t drink my worries away like I usually do, so I’m going to have to settle for pie. Lots of pie. “What do I do?” I ask with my mouth full.
“In regard to Remiel, nothing,” Michael says calmly. His presence is soothing, and for some reason, being in the company of other angels feels right. My angelic side seeks out their company, I guess.
“Nothing?” I question. “Are the others going to be pissed and wondering what happened to him?” My pulse quickens again, and I scoop up another forkful of pie, shoving it into my mouth.
“Let angels deal with the matters of angels.”
“But I’m half angel,” I counter.
“Exactly,” Michael tells me. “Half. And your human half needs to rest, now more than ever.”
“I claimed the Throne of Hell,” I say, getting all jittery as I think about it. It feels like that happened so long ago, and I haven’t had time to think about it yet. What it means…and how it felt.
Good.
Right.
I liked having that much power.
“You did,” Michael says.
I nervously poke at the pie. “I didn’t mean it, though. I just said it because I had to, and I don’t even know how the idea occurred to me. But it did, and I stopped Bael and saved Lucas and Kristy. I just said some words, it’s not like I had a ritual or anything to become the Queen of Hell, right?”
“You have archangel blood in you, making you a rightful heir to any part of Heaven or Hell,” Michael tells me. “You willed yourself the crown and named yourself queen. Right now, you are the ruler of Hell.”
Chapter 3
“But I don’t want to be,” I blurt. “Can’t I un-will the crown or whatever?”
Michael’s brows furrow, and he casts his gaze down as he thinks. “Perhaps. The simplest way to remedy this is to get Lucifer back on the throne. You were able to claim it due to his absence, but if he were to return and you didn’t fight him for the throne, it would be his once again.”
“Then do that,” Lucas says. “And Callie won’t have to leave.”
I look up from my pie and see the terror on Lucas’s face. It hits me all at once, and now I understand why he was so mad when I named myself the Queen of Hell. If I rule Hell, I’ll have to go there. Literally.
“That is my plan, as soon as I find my brother.” Michael’s eyes meet mine and his face softens.
“Until then?” Kristy asks, voice thin. “What will Callie do?” She takes another sip of wine.
“Nothing,” Michael says again. “Live your life.” He’s told me that before, and I know now just how much he wants me to do just that. It’s why he risked everything to keep me out of the hands of the angels.
So I could live.
“You want me to go on like everything is normal?” I ask dubiously. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Normal for you is far from typical for most other humans,” Michael says with a slight smile before his face goes somber. “The demons will come. Word will get out not only that Lucifer is gone but that you claimed your blood right to the throne. You must be vigilant, Callie. I will do what I can to protect you, but I will not be able to come back as easily as before. It’s imperative now more than ever I don’t raise any alarm to you. Now that Remiel is gone—”
He pauses, sharply inhaling. It has to hurt, losing a sibling, and the guilt must be crippling. I have no idea how archangel emotions work, but if he fell in love with my mother, then certainly he loves his other siblings. He killed his own brother for me, and Lucifer is presumably hiding the body in Hell. Out of my thousands of cousins, only one doesn’t want to kill me, and he’s working as a double agent, keeping up the pretense that he has no idea I was even born.
And I thought the Martins were full of family drama.
“The others will be on high alert,” Michael finishes.
“What are you going to tell them?” Lucas puts my plate in the microwave. “I can’t imagine archangels are easy to kill.”
“We are not. The only way to kill any angel is with demon-forged daggers that—”
“Bael had one,” I interrupt. “Julian brought it. Would it be believable that Bael killed Remiel?”
Michael thinks about it for a few seconds. “Perhaps. Battle is—was—not one of his strengths. I believe that was the angle Lucifer was going to play.”
“Let’s circle back to the demon thing,” I say, sliding the pie over and taking a seat next to Michael. My feet are starting to hurt from standing here, which is unusual for me. I didn’t take my boots off or anything either. “I’m always a demon-magnet, but it’s gonna be worse, right?”
“Right.” Michael looks up and around the room. “The warding placed on the property will help for a while.”
“Can you up it?” Lucas asks.
“I will bless the space,” Michael tells us. “But it won’t be foolproof.”
“What about the Covenstead?” Kristy asks. “Is she safe there?”
“In theory.”
“But if demons know I’m there…” I start, not needing to finish. When Varrador figured out which coven I belonged to, he sent lower-level demons to attack anyone trying to get through the door, so he could in turn force himself in and find and kill me. If demons are looking for me and they know I went through the door, I’d be putting everyone at risk.
Again.
“You said only someone with archangel blood can claim the throne,” Lucas starts, taking my food from the microwave and bringing it over to me. “Which means now there is no doubt amongst the demons that the rumors about Callie are true.”
“Right.”
I should be too nervous to eat, but I’m starving, and the leftover mashed potatoes and cornbread dressing are begging to be mixed together and devoured right now.
“If the demons know, won’t the angels find out?” Lucas asks.
“Demons aren’t the most trustworthy source of information. With Lucifer being gone, they are more desperate than usual to try and take the throne for themselves. The chatter may raise suspicions, and Julian and I will continue to evade them.”
“Thank you,” I tell him as I put a spoonful of dressing on my potatoes.