Page 17 of Unholy Night
I snatch my fingers away as if burned. The stone doesn't seem quite so pretty now that I know how it got here.
“You’re bothered that demons and sinners shaped these stones?” Lucifer stops and looks at me.
“It’s not my place to judge.”
He nods his head. “Do you know what I see when I look at this?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“I see effort and potential. I see remorse and hope. I see new beginnings.” He presses a hand to the wall. “I know these souls worked off their debts and started anew. I see second chances. These stones hold the warmth of souls wishing for a better future.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” I feel a little embarrassed. “You make hell sound like a much nicer place than I’ve been taught to believe.”
“There is darkness and pain. There is unimaginable agony on some levels. But it all serves a purpose.”
“And it’s not endless,” I say.
“Well, that’s debatable, but perhaps we could save that discussion for later. We have a lot of catching up to do.” Lucifer shrugs.
He has been honest with all of my questions up until now, so I decide to let this one go. Instead I look around the courtyard. Crystals float about, their facets reflecting light from the moon and glowing gemstones. It’s like walking inside a kaleidoscope.
I can hear the light sounds of water in the background and look around but don’t see a fountain. Maybe it’s in another room? There are doors and corridors leading off in different directions that have my curiosity spinning. What type of wonders might be hidden in Lucifer’s palace?
I look back at the man currently pointing to different crystals floating in the air and explaining them to Mandy. My heart does that increasingly familiar flutter. Why does seeing him with Mandy make my brain turn to mush?
“So, do you think we’ll find a list in this bag?” Lucifer asks.
Mandy looks up in horror. “Oh no! What if he keeps his list in his sleigh?”
“Let’s go to my office and find out.” Lucifer takes the lead, obviously at home. With his free hand he loosens his tie before running his fingers through his unruly hair. “Please forgive me, but we don’t have an elevator.”
His warning is just in time to keep me from tripping over the first step of an elegant staircase. When he glances in my direction with a flash of perfect white teeth, I’m certain he did it for my sake.
I follow him up the beautiful, grand staircase and through a hallway lined with paintings that belong in museums. In fact, I see a few that I’m certain are hanging in museums and zealously guarded on Earth. Are these the real things? Are the ones locked away the perfect replicas?
Lucifer stops at a large door before flicking his fingers at the doorknob. It twists and flings open. He strides into the room and we follow quickly behind him.
What looks like Lucifer’s personal office is large and warm, filled with the crackling sounds of fire in a fireplace, the flames dancing shadows off the walls. Mahogany bookshelves line the walls and are heavy with leather bound books, ancient parchment scrolls and tablets carved with the glyphs of dead languages. I inhale the scent of burning wood and old leather and smile.
“Have you read all of these?” I ask. I’ve always loved libraries and this one is filled with treasure.
Lucifer dumps Santa’s bag on the ground and looks over at me with a mysterious smirk on his perfect lips. “Read them? Yes. In fact I’ve written many of them.”
I’m honestly stunned and his smirk turns piercing. “Surprised the Devil is so scholarly? You shouldn’t be. I am the first to tempt humanity with knowledge after all. If not for me you’d still be stuck in the Stone Age.”
Huh. He’s got a point there. I’ve never really understood why Eve was punished for wanting knowledge.
He turns his attention to Mandy and smiles. “Well, dive in kid!”
Mandy wastes no time. With a squeal of glee she unties the bag and pulls open the velvet fabric, gasping in shock when she sees what it contains.
6
Lucifer
Humanity has never collectively been more consistently wrong about anything as it has about me and my role in the fall of Eve, if you can even call it that. Humans always have needed to demonize something…me. Women. Anyone who doesn’t look like themselves. Anyone who comes from elsewhere. It’s an inherent flaw I’ve seen poison every single civilization since the dawn of humankind. And I see no indication it will change anytime soon.
So it’s always a rare delight when I have an opportunity to correct the narrative, even if only a little.