A/N:
Boom, baby! Another chapter! Alas, I must admit we are entering the end-game for this story, but do not despair! There is plotting (get it) for many more fun and interesting things in the works. I hope you all enjoy this little addition to the story and stick around for the finale.
My usual thanks go to:
kt_valmiri for soundboarding.
TheWyversWeaver for the cover art and collaboration.
Damlone & BlueberryandHoney for beta reading.
OnceNeverTwiceAlways and Wodahseht for editing.
If you're interested in supporting Hereafter or my other writing, you can buy me a coffee. Check out the link in my profile for more details. now, on to the show!
The word of the moment was bad. Very, very bad. Nick wasn't responding to her attempts to wake him and two of the Divine Guards were present—a wounded angel and a High Seraph. The puma was bleeding with crippled wings, but able to move—probably able to fight. The ibex, however, was unharmed and easily outclassed Judy. She'd have felt uncomfortable if Nick were to square off with one at the best of times, but, at present, he was a sitting duck. At least he was immobile and silent. He'd be easier to hide that way.
The Seraph's words boomed through the cathedral-esque space of the den. "Where is the master of this place?"
Judy steeled herself and reached for her weapons with her mind, readying herself for the right moment. "Indisposed."
The ibex gaped. "Lieutenant Hopps! You are…alive?"
"And apparently well, Seraph." Judy slipped past Nick's chair, directing the Seraph's attention away from the demon. "What brings you here?"
The Seraph's eyes narrowed. "Do not play games with me. We are here to collect you and return you safely to the Host, once we have the head of the demon who kidnapped you."
"As I said, he is indisposed."
"Ah! You've finished him off already?" He snorted derisively. "Pity."
Judy restrained herself enough to ask, "If you don't mind me asking, why did you want his head, of all things? We don't keep trophies."
"First, as proof he was destroyed. I was also told that the inquisitors might be able to glean some insight into our enemies from it." The Seraph rubbed the pommel of the sword on his hip. "I wanted the honor of ending him, but it is only fitting that the kill was yours. I'm amazed you remain unsullied. We feared the worst."
"Indeed." Rage boiled under her two syllables. It amazed her how differently she saw the highest of the Host. Once, she would have knelt in reverence for merely entering their presence, but now she saw nothing worthy of respect. He was no paragon. He was a white-robed errand boy sent to take her back for her execution.
"Lieutenant?" The minor angel stepped forward. "We're here to help you."
Judy remained unmoved. "How many were sent?"
At the question the puma's face darkened. "Twelve of the Gladius and Cestus orders…and him." Apparently, there was no love lost between the two.
"What happened to the others?"
"The gate was boobytrapped. It killed seven of us. The golems at the gate to this demon's hovel finished off the others as we fought so High Seraph Lashiel, here, wouldn't risk injury." He spat the last words as though they burned his tongue.
"That's enough sergeant. You can save your whining for when we return." The Seraph's tone was even, bordering on indifferent. "Now, is there anything left of the demon? The Divine himself requested a trophy of this one."
Judy was taken aback. "Himself? Is Celestine gone?"
"She fell under the weight of her office yesterday." The puma's derisive snort broke the solemnity of the statement. "Arch-Inquisitor Augustine temporarily presides over the Host. Any questions you have can be directed to him."
In that moment, Judy felt horror and dread settle into her bones.
She knew Augustine. The High Cherub had mentored her through her induction into the hunters of his Order. He despised authority and had openly stated his distaste for high office many times. There were also at least two hundred angels ahead of him for claiming the throne, even temporarily. If there was any doubt, the puma Gladius' disdainful attitude was extremely telling. If the rule was legitimate, there was no way an honorable Gladius would react so strongly.
Something was badly wrong in Heaven. With this evidence, there was only one conclusion Judy could come to. Augustine had been sacrificed in her place and his "temporary rule" was merely to buy time to get her back to Heaven, where she'd be gutted for certain.
The ibex angel's voice pulled Judy's attention back to the here and now. "We must return. Augustine informed us that you are to be groomed for a high post as soon as possible. It is an honor."
The weary Puma practically begged, "Lieutenant Hopps, it is time to come home."
Judy set her jaw. "I refuse."
"I see your time around demons has addled your mind." The Seraph huffed. "Come, Hopps, or I will have to use force."
Her eyes met those of the Seraph. They contained knowledge and a dismive coldness that sickened her. He knew—her immanent fate, the fate of Augustine, all of it. In turn, he must have seen something in her expression.
"No."
The ibex sneered and drew his blade. "Then I'll drag you back, after I've taught you a lesson or two. I've been authorized to administer disciplinary measures as I see fit, and you, Lieutenant, are disobeying orders."
"Coronel!" The bloodied angel moved to stand between them. "What is this?"
The Seraph's blade split the lesser angel's armor in a single stroke. He was dead before he hit the floor.
"This, you simpleton, is what you get for interfering in the course of my duty. You should have died more usefully."
The coldblooded murder she'd just witnesses was the final proof. "I'm not going anywhere."
She was fixed with an indifferent sneer. "And what do you think you can do to stop me? Pout?"
On those words, Judy shook herself out of her shock and summoned her armor, vanishing her bangles. "If I force you to kill me, I won't be any use to Celestine. She'll burn what she stole from Augustine out before the next Heir manifests. Sounds like I win."
"Just so you know, my orders say 'alive', not 'unharmed'. You'll go back either way, then you'll receive the Divine's punishment." The ibex stalked forward, grinning. "I will relish seeing you flog yourself to ribbons for your insubordination."
"You know Heaven's vows only work in Heaven." Judy's voice was filled with the knowledge that she was right.
He nodded. "I also know that I can hurt you here as much as I like and face no reprisals, so long as you're breathing when I drag you back. And you will still beat yourself within an inch of death on his word."
"Is that so…?" The poisoned, velvet tones she heard from behind her filled Judy with hope and terror.
She glanced over her shoulder and the bottom of her stomach dropped out. Something was wrong. Nick's posture, demeanor, and bearing were all wrong. He looked haughtier, more rigid and bitter.
The Seraph's face contorted into a mou of distaste. "I see you did not finish off all the demons here."
"All?" Nick quipped back. "There is only one demon in this place."
The Ibex paled. "You…"
"You asked for the master of this place, little angel." With that statement, Nick unfurled his wings. They were as magnificent as they had been the last time Judy had seen them, but now the gold and black were mottled and inconsistent. The colors seemed to shift, struggling against each other as tremors shook his frame and expression. "Well, here I am."
Nick struggled to control the tempest between his ears. His sense of self was fading. He'd felt the arrival of the Seraph in his Den and that had been enough for him to resurface to the waking world, but not enough to escape the nightmare. His mind was unraveling. Familiarity with madness and enduring it was nothing new to him, but this was different.
Memory stones were old territory. They carried risk. Accepting the memories of someone other than oneself into the mind could cause psychological fracturing, multiple personalities, even possession. He'd met plenty of demons who had died, only to infuse a new body with their minds through a stone. All it took was a host with a weak will.
His vision was a dissonant cacophony. One instant he saw his Den, the next his throne room. Both were his and he recognized them. But both were alien and strange, filled with things he half recalled and understood less as his mind fissured. The upheaval grew and grew—suffocating him until he heard a voice he was sure he knew.
Lashiel.
He slipped silently off his chair and into the shadows in the same motion. His old armor leapt to cover him with a thought and his Spear took its proper form—the jagged brutal shape he'd crafted it into by force of will over centuries. His armor settled into its resting place as a torque around his neck, which confused him. He'd never seen an adornment like it. And he was nude from the waist up. Most peculiar and improper. A soldier was always dressed, especially a soldier king, but this was not the time. An enemy was present.
He peeked out from the shadow of a pillar.
Two enemies.
Pain lanced through him as he looked at the rabbit standing between his former seat and the hated Seraph. Terror for her seethed in his gut. She was blocking his path. Perhaps she could be useful to him. Another soldier against his neglectful bondmate and the sanctimonious bureaucracy of Heaven.
As he watched, the scene changed. Another angel stepped between them and was struck down. The little cherub was armed and standing her ground against her superior officer. Yes, she would make a fine addition to his growing army in Hell. With a few more like her, Heaven would fall. The Seraph stepped forward and the need to defend her surged up in him. Nick would not let his mate be harmed.
Mate?
Mate…
Bondmate.
My betrayer!
"Is that so…?" Nick felt the distaste roll off his tongue as he stepped out of the darkness.
The little angel sneered. "I see you did not finish off all the demons here."
He raised an eyebrow at his insolent subordinate. "All? There is only one demon in this place."
Clearly, he needed educating. He was no demon. The "demons" were the serfs of the Divine. He was an officer of the Host—second among equals in the ranks with the one who had broken their covenant and usurped his authority, relegating him to the stewardship of a prison.
The Seraph paled and sputtered, "You…"
"You asked for the master of this place, little angel." With that statement, Nick felt his wings spread for what felt like the first time in millennia, aching and tingling. "Well, here I am."
The Seraph struck first, but Nick was ready. There was nothing a pithy little ibex with feathers barely sprouting on his neck could do against his might. Or so he thought moments before he slammed into a pillar, cracking it through."
"Nick!"
His heart was in his throat. Her fear galvanized him to peel himself out of the rubble. Their eyes sought each other out and fury filled him. His mate, the betrayer was there. He could end his "rebellion" in an instant, but the Seraph just had to interfere. Nick quickly found himself on the receiving end of a vicious assault.
Judy watched the fight unfold in horror. Nick had managed to take the first strike on the haft of his spear, but that was where his good fortune ended. To her astonishment, the fox was giving ground under the blows and magical blasts being dealt out by his angelic assailant. It was almost as surprising and disconcerting as the look of unbridled hate he sent her way. She felt for a moment that his anger was directed at her instead of the angel attacking him.
She watched as Lashiel bowled him over and sent a blast of power after him. Nick barely managed to dodge. Looking at the new hole in the wall, she heard him exclaim "Stop blowing holes in my sanctum!", before the angel was on him again.
She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. He didn't sound at all like himself.
The madness didn't end there, either. Somehow, the differences in Nick were becoming more apparent. His fighting style was strange, archaic, and ill-suited to a toe-to-toe battle. His normal method of engagement was to redirect or avoid taking direct attacks, so his opponents tired out—a duelist's style. It suited him.
This, however, was the fighting style of the Legions—brute force and counter-measures. He needed power to stand and fight, but he was still wearing his collar. It was almost as though he'd forgotten about it. Judy nearly dropped her sword. That had to be it. He'd forgotten and was fighting at a fraction of his strength against a Seraph.
She leapt forward instinctively, heedless of the danger.
Nick was panting. His power was drained and his muscles burned. He didn't understand. He'd traded blows for mere moments before ending up on the defensive. Parries and blocks quickly grew desperate and barely prevented his flesh from splitting. Worse still, his armor refused to respond to him. He was vulnerable and practically routed.
Then, it happened. He was just a hair too slow. The traitor Seraph's longsword was past his guard. Time bent. The celestial metal would spit him and he would die on a rebel's blade, never having reclaimed his place in the Host. Nick watched his death fly towards his chest and, for a moment, felt a longing for the one he'd leave behind. He just wanted to see her again. He'd even compliment her feathers if they'd grown too numerous. His own had all fallen out.
A female voice, shrill with fear, echoed off the walls. "NO!"
Nick blinked in wonder as time snapped back into movement. The sword that he'd expected to die on rattled off the flagstone floor. He looked up to see the tip of a similar, if smaller, blade protruding from the feathery ungulate's chest.
The same voice, filled with disgust, wafted around the dying angel. "You should have killed me first, Sir."
The blade twisted in the wound before vanishing back the way it had entered. Once the angel had fallen, gasping for breath, Nick saw his savior.
The little rabbit stood over the head of the officer she'd just murdered and stared at him. "Not on my watch."
"Lieu—Lieutenant…" The Seraph's voice rasped before his face twisted into a snarl. "Traitor!"
"I made my choice." The Cherub's lip curled in distaste. Then she brought the tip of her sword down hard in a double-handed stab into the neck of her victim. As the lights in his eyes dimmed she added, "Maybe they can use you for parts."
Relief flooded him in a wave. His knees gave out and he slumped towards the ground. The hard, stone floor didn't reach him, however. Two small, strong arms wrapped his torso and guided him to knee, reclining against a pillar.
"I've got you, Nick. I've got you."
Yes, she would make a fine addition to his army.
Judy wanted to smile. She'd saved him. That was all that mattered. She repeated that to herself as she gasped for breath. His paw clamped harder onto her throat. Before she blacked out she rabbit-punched his forearm and pried his paw from around her neck, back peddling away from his as quickly as she could.
"Nick, what's gotten into you?"
"Do not pretend, usurper!" Nick roared.
She got her sword up in time to block his spear, but it was close. Anger fueled him, and he was a force to be reckoned with, even exhausted as he was. She batted his follow up thrust aside and leapt back to gain a little space. She immediately regretted her choice as she saw a pawful of Coins vaporize in his grip.
Nick eyed her with undisguised anger. "You will pay for your betrayal!"
"What betrayal? What did I do?"
His next strike was at nearly his full strength. Judy's training against much larger opponents was all that saved her. His spearhead shattered a flagstone and swept along the ground at a frightening speed. She hopped over the sweep and backed away. He stalked forward.
"Nick, talk to me!" Judy begged.
"I am not this Nick! I am Lu—" His words died in his throat and he staggered, using his spear to steady himself.
While he was stunned, Judy tried the Bond. It was closed hard, almost to the point of cramping. She pushed and Nick screamed. Suddenly, she was fending off a hail of spear strikes, every one with the intent to kill. Blows hammered her guard and the area around her. Crates shattered, stone cracked, and Judy was fighting for her life. One hard strike was replaced by another and another as quickly as she could parry. She realized she couldn't keep it up, so she took a page from her demon's book.
She danced.
Rather than block, she adopted Nick's usual style of redirection and evasion. His strikes became more manageable, and she was able to push back a little. One poorly executed attack from him was enough of an opening for her to hammer the haft of his spear and slip into his guard. She drove the pommel of her sword into his gut as hard as she could. With the air blasted from his lungs, Judy danced away and tried the Bond again.
For an instant, it gave, and Judy was left thunderstruck. His mind was howling in many voices. Recollections and emotions that she knew weren't his battered him even as he fought back with his own memories and will. It was impossible, but there was no time. She regained her equilibrium with just enough room to dodge another assault.
More Coins vanished and his attacks became desperate, erratic. His styles were clashing. One moment, he was smooth and deadly, slipping between her thrusts and sweeps with a smug grin plastered across his beautiful face. The next, he was a hard, calculating machine of war with no grace or poise—the simple, cold gravitas of an executioner etched on his features. She bent and evaded until she found another opening and slipped in close again, allowing him to catch her.
He lifted her by her ears, snarling into her face. "Now, I will have my vengeance! You abandoned me! Left me to rot in a backwater of Creation and took my right of rule!"
Judy fought down the terror and waited for her moment.
"We hinged everything on our agreement and you tossed it aside! But now…" Nick had panted and trembled throughout his raving, crushing her ears in his grip, but suddenly it slackened and a disturbingly manic look of tenderness bled into his expression. "And you, mate, will…. You will…be…free…. I…shouldered the burden…. I've…missed you, My Sunlight."
Nick's eyes unfocused half-way through his rant, but the words scared her no less for it. His pain was so sincere. It didn't stop her. Gripping his forearm, she balled herself up and slammed her feet into his chest as hard as she could. She watched in grieving sorrow as he flew away from her, an expression of confused longing on his face, before he slammed through the wall and was buried in a pile of rubble.
Nick was getting tired of unburying himself. He was still in his Den, which was good. He hadn't been knocked into the void or back into the mortal realm, so he had a chance to figure out what was going on without endangering reality. The knock to the head had cleared a little of the morass in his skull. He owed that rabbit, whoever she was, a thank you. She was so familiar and yet…
Pain lanced behind his eyes and bloomed. The storm of memories was boiling up again, threatening to pull him under. His vision swam. Bile grew in the back of his throat as the flood grew into a torrent of past horrors. Everything from his last internment in Hell, back over the centuries and millennia to the day he fell, came back to him. Everything he'd forgotten or hidden was laid bare. His chat with Baphomet when he was too naïve to know he was being manipulated, the fight with the Divine and why the conflict happened.
"Stand. Down." The egret enunciated.
"I will not." Nick replied. "I can not stand aside and allow this to happen."
"You have no choice, Seraph." The reply was quietly and contemptuously spit back at him as she took her place on her throne. "You will follow orders and prepare to take the mortal realm exactly as I told you to."
"Lady Divine, please! What you propose is monstrous," Nick pleaded. "Baiting the demons into invading is one thing. If they forfeit the Wager, so much the better. But your plans for the reconstruction is madness!"
"How could you question me?" Her voice was as prim as it was soft. "I am your liege and ruler."
He stood firm, with clenched fists. "When your purpose is to convert the whole of the mortal realm into a…feedlot so you can farm mana purely for your own benefit, I feel I must."
She shifted on her seat and settled in, draping her robes across her seat. "Mortals serve no other purpose, and we will need that mana to finish wiping out the demons once the Wager is lost by them. They have been a threat for too long. Do you think they would do any different?"
He knelt at her feet. "So we will choose to sink to their level first? Can you not see how wrong that is?"
"It will end our enemy and return control of Creation to its proper place." Her gaze was even and cold. "Here, with me."
"I absolutely refuse."
"My child, please. It is a small price to pay in the short term and all of eternity stand before us once the demons are exterminated." She simpered, caressing his face as a mother would.
He didn't move, but met her gaze pleadingly. "The souls we would damage are the very ones that bolster our ranks. Even a generation lost will be harmful to the Host."
"A small loss to a greater gain, my child." The Divine gripped his shoulder. "It is a small sacrifice we must make now so that all Creation will benefit. Imagine a world without the demonic threat hanging over it. The cost is worth the benefit."
Nick shook his head. "And it only requires an act so depraved as to be demonic to accomplish it."
At that, her matronly façade slipped away and she leaned away from him scoffing in disgust.
"My lady, since you completed your ascension you have been acting strangely," he pressed. "As a zirafah, you were compassionate, but now…. The closer you have come to the Engine the more of yourself you have lost. Please, see sanity!"
"All I see is what must be done." The regal bird glared down her beak at him and sneered. "And the sin of Pride."
"My—" His words were cut off as a bolt of power lashed out from the Divine's staff. He staggered away from the throne, slack-jawed in shock.
"Your service is ended. I hereby pass judgement upon you, my son. I exile you from the Heavens and Host as a traitor. May Hell welcome you with all that you deserve."
With that, the egret in white robes struck the ground with her staff and Nick was blasted to his knees, his head spinning. He regained his senses enough to feel strong arms yank him up and drag him off. The last thing he heard before blackness took him was the voice of the Divine he'd served faithfully.
"Take that traitor to the Hellmouth and put him through. Strike his name from the Lists of the Holy and let his House be dishonored in proportion to his crime—the Sin of Pride."
Stars exploded in Nick's world as someone struck him hard across the face. As his consciousness faded, a deep, cold voice commented, "You do not seem surprised, My Lady."
Through the dark, the last words he heard were "Apples fall closer to some trees than others."
The next thing he knew was the long fall from grace, his impact in the first of the Pits, and the horrors that greeted him. The stench of Sulphur, the Gatekeeper's rictus when he was found in the crater he made, the Cerberus Watchers along the Via Diabolos as he was dragged by his wings to the Citadel for his claiming. Nick felt his throat closing, smothering him as the panic took control.
More memories flooded up, hammering his senses—seeing the chaos his city had become, admitting that his mate had forsaken him and closed their bond, the creeping shadows that haunted his steps as he went to Tartarus Gate, the hatred that filled him, his grief as he gave in and claimed his Throne, his conviction as he led his legions against the Host of the Usurper.
Nick couldn't tell up from down or left from right as his mind fissured and bent, but he still pulled himself out of the rubble to lean against the wall. He would not be beaten by this. That rabbit needed recruiting and his bondmate needed to be punished. He needed to find Judy. So much to do. Gently, he pulled himself up to stand when a burst of air hit him that smelled of sunflowers, the first light of day. and new-molted feathers. With it came the scent of fear and rabbit and home.
His mind settled. Chancing a peek through the hole in the wall, Nick saw an eagle in the robes of the Divine looming over a rabbit. In a moment, it all made sense—The Divine and Judy. But it also made sense to the mind he had immersed himself in—his mate and the rabbit he'd wanted to recruit. Nick understood. He could feel her through the Bond, now. She was afraid and in danger, riddled with regret for hurting him and completely unaware he was still standing. His heart ached.
However, there was a lager concern. Nick recognized the presence of the Divine who had exiled him. Her aura and power were unmistakable after the long service he'd given her. Bitterness and anger clouded his mind while red swam on the edges of his vision.
Lucifer's memory reached out to soothe him. It recognized the presence of his bondmate. The regret, sorrow, and nostalgia were enough to pull Nick back.
He had an epiphany. Lucifer's traitorous mate and the Divine that had condemned him were the same being.
A few Coins vanished from his paw and violet flames covered Nicks wounds. What they'd found in the clinic now had a larger, even more disturbing, implication. They deserved revenge. Lucifer's betrayal and abandonment, Nick's wrongful punishment, and all the angels—Judy included—that had been sacrificed to this twisted Divine's ambitions.
Nick had an idea. Vengeance was possible with a little finesse and some help from Lucifer's memories. All he needed was for Judy to buy a little time for him to heal.