Lute's Mission

by PeppermintWhiskers

Summary:

As Lute returns from a secret meeting with Lilith, she comes across Emily.

Emily just wants Lute to be included uwu

Notes:

Hello hello again! Thank you for your patience with this next part :3 I'm planning out another potential long fic for this AU (rising action before the climax), so please bear with me XD

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

As Lute made her way out of the forest, the pressure on her immediately eased up. Rubbing her temples, she heaved a sigh and wondered just how long Lilith planned to take with her little scheme.

It had been weeks. Close to months. Every day was a test of how much longer she could stand working with that conniving woman—how much longer she could stand to wait.

Why the fuck had she made that deal? If she knew how long this would take, she would have killed her on that fucking beach.

I know how you can see Adam again, she’d said, and Lute had been just desperate enough to hear her out. You can agree that redeeming demons is good for neither Heaven nor Hell.  

Lute had agreed. 

I have connections in Hell. If you keep me updated on the goings-on of Heaven, I can pull those strings to make sure Hell gets what it deserves. If you do this, I will ensure you see Adam again.

And Lute had agreed.

Now, she wondered if it was worth it. They were coming on the second month since redemption was found possible, and there was still no progress. Was she supposed to be patient? Was she supposed to wait while Charlie Morningstar and her heathens in Hell languished in the knowledge that they could get some of their own up here? Adam’s and her sisters’ murderers were celebrating, and Lute was supposed to wait?

Wait nothing. If Lilith didn’t produce some kind of progress by next week, Lute would take matters into her own hands. Technically, she was general now—her sisters would follow her into another extermination, and this time, Charlie Morningstar and her heathens wouldn’t see them coming.

Finally, she came into the city outskirts. From here, she could see the sleepy activity of those who didn't want the fast lifestyle the city center provided. The people who, up until recently, had no idea redemption was possible and were quite clearly put off by it. 

She could see it as she walked past them, the disquiet on their faces and the hushed whispers. The wonderings about whether it would be safe—thoughts and feelings that echoed Lute’s own, only without the conviction to do something about it. She cared about Heaven's citizens, and their hesitation to act on wishing harm against others endeared them to her greatly—that, alongside the possibility of seeing Adam again, was what drove her to this.

They needed to be protected, and if the Seraphim weren’t willing to get the job done, then Lute would take it into her own hands.

“Lute.” With a harsh wing flap, one of her sisters landed and fell into step with her. Lute nodded to her in acknowledgement. “Where were you today? Saint Raphael was looking for you.”

Lute glanced over. Charity, one of the few who had taken easier to the treatment than others, no longer wore the exorcist uniform, just like Lute herself. Instead of the robes denoting those going through healing, however, she wore slacks and a nice shirt. Nothing denoting her as a patient, nothing but her halo and wings that signaled she’d been an exorcist. She heard her other sisters describe her as “in the grays,” whatever that meant. 

As far as Lute was concerned, she still was an exorcist—just one who’d lost her way and fell to the brainwashing the Seraphim and Archangels were enacting.

“I was busy,” Lute replied. “I’ll see them later today.”

Charity gave her a look. The nerve of her—she shouldn’t be giving her looks. “You said that last time. You do remember that this was mandated, right?”

“I'm aware.” Not by the Heavenly Father, but by Saint Michael and Saint Raphael. That was almost enough to compel her to go to these “soul cleansing” sessions, but that wouldn’t help her with her mission. She was walking on the thinnest of ice, though, she could tell. “Like I said, I was busy with something, and I’ll see them later today.”

A hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks. Lute sucked in a sharp breath and prepared for whatever confrontation Charity wanted to have.

“Lute, you’re just hurting yourself.” Her voice was firm, but not argumentative. Lute couldn’t help the scowl—not only was this whole thing halting their training, it was changing her soldiers. “Yeah, it hurts at first, but it gets better the more you stay with it. Hell, I feel a whole lot lighter, and I’m not even done!” Charity shook her lightly but firmly. “I know, it sucks. We’re—we were made to fight and exterminate sinners, but is it really so bad to leave it all behind?”

Her scowl lightened. Lute sighed. She couldn’t fault her sisters. They took the mandate from essentially their bosses seriously, something she could commend them for. It was only a shame it was having this effect on them. “I can appreciate you’re looking on the bright side,” she said, “but is this really what Adam would have wanted? I mean, look at us!”

Charity’s jaw tensed. “Adam’s dead, Lute.” And although her face was stony and cold, the way her voice shook revealed her true feelings. “He’s not coming back, so what’s the fucking point?”

Lute slapped her hands away. “Do what you want.” She snapped and took off into the sky. Best not to tell Charity—or any of her other sisters—her plans to bring back Adam. Who knew how many of them were as brainwashed as Charity?

~.~.~

She landed in the middle of Providence City. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the snake with the other sinner and two of Heaven’s residents. Angel Dust’s sister, if she remembered right, plus an older elk woman.

Now was not the time for a confrontation, so Lute turned her back to them for now. She already delivered this week’s information to Lilith, so she figured she could take a day away from them. Clearly, they didn’t appreciate her presence as much as she hated theirs.

But how to spend her time? She was usually busy keeping an eye on the enemy, but she’d just elected to take a self-proclaimed day off. Should she stop by for some coffee? A treat?

No, she needed to spend it strategizing. Her deal with Lilith wasn’t going to fulfill itself, and even if she wasn’t watching over the Heavenly Father’s new “host” (still iffy on that, to be completely honest), she still needed to do something.

The Archangels could be a good starting point, but in all honesty, catching them anywhere near Heaven was nigh impossible. It was a miracle they were here as much as they have been at all. Whatever had caused that change petered out by now, so back they were, away from Heaven’s eye and probably somewhere in the living plane.

The Seraphim? Hmm, they hadn’t called on her since the first days of Lute’s work with them. No doubt Sera would expect her to be with the two sinners today . . .

“Lute!”

Lute flinched. She slowly turned around, and to her relief and irritation,bit was exactly who she was looking for. Well, not exactly, but Emily wasn’t that bad of a choice.

Straightening up, Lute gave her a small bow. Even though she advocated for everything that went against what Adam—and by extension, Lute—stood for, she still gave her a bow. “Junior Seraph. It’s good to see you.”

Emily giggled and shook her head. “You don’t need to address me so formally, Lute. You never needed to!” Lute lifted her head and gave a nod, keeping to herself that playing informal with the Seraphim was akin to suicide now that the Heavenly Father was back.

If Adam was here, he wouldn’t be so reserved and cautious. He’d always barreled right through formalities.

. . . She missed him.

She quickly banished the thought away. “Did you need something?” Lute asked.

“Well, yeah. What are you doing here alone? I thought you’d be with—”

Lute immediately cut her off. “I was busy with something. I couldn’t see Saint Raphael today.”

Emily blinked. “Oh, right, you and the others usually have soul cleansing around this time. I just meant to ask why you weren’t with Angel and Pentious.”

They’re not my keepers. Keep that thought inside. “Like I said, I was busy up until a little while ago.”

“I see.” Emily glanced behind her, but the small group was long gone. “Say, are you still going to Raphael today?”

“I . . . was planning to.” Not true, but Emily was not Charity. Not only would she expect Lute to be there, but she would be pushy about it. Utterly annoying and pushy, just like that Morningstar bitch. But maybe if she could take advantage of the fact that she was primarily to serve with the Seraphim for her healing. “Did you need me for something?”

“Oh, no no, not right now!” Unsurprisingly (but still annoyingly), Emily snatched Lute’s hand and marched her toward the palace. “Your soul health comes first, so you’re seeing Raphael as soon as possible! They’re really worried about you, you know. They didn’t see you last week or the week before. Let's go see them now!”

Nothing more to it. Lute was on her way to see Saint Raphael.

-.-.-

She could feel them staring at her. As she met the gazes and nods of her sisters as they made their way out of the medical hall, Lute could feel Raphael’s eyes boring into her, seeming to see more than she wanted them to see. Unnerving and piercing—this was exactly why she didn’t want to come here.

Those eyes were almost as perceptive as the snake’s had been. Maybe more. They looked like they knew exactly what she had been doing with who.

“Lute, it’s good to see you again,” Raphael said, calm and soft but with an undercurrent of what she could only describe as irritation—not likely since they weren’t known for lack of patience, but Lute was teaming up with Lilith of all people, so there was a first time for everything. “How are you feeling?”

Lute glanced to the side. Emily smiled brightly at her—expectantly, even. “I’m—fine,” she said. Play along. “I’m very sorry I missed the cleansing, Saint Raphael. I was busy.” She hopped onto the bed and resigned herself to the session.

Their eyes flashed, and for a moment, she wondered if they could see through truth and lies. “You seem to be quite busy lately. Sera isn’t working you too hard, I hope.” They laughed lightly, and as they spoke, their hands flashed green and fluttered around Lute. A few butterflies spilled forth, and immediately, the prickles of discomfort skittered all over her skin.

“Not at all,” she replied. “This is . . . something else.”

“Oh? I see. A hobby, perhaps?”

“No. More of a project.”

Raphael lifted their eyes to hers, all knowing and dangerous. “A project? Tell me about it!”

Their tone was light, and their expression was soft and inviting—but there was the danger because Lute found herself opening her mouth to tell them about the plan. The butterflies hummed around her, inviting her to speak her mind and let all the weight off her chest, but she shut her mouth stubbornly. The pang in her chest increased from a mildly irritating prick to a sharp stab, but she managed to keep a straight face.

But she had to think of something—quick. Not only was an Archangel watching her every mood, a Seraph waited beside her. Both of them were no doubt waiting for her to slip up on something. She couldn’t let them know about the deal, and she certainly couldn’t let them know about Lilith—not if she wanted any chance of bringing Adam back from the dead.

Think of something quick.

“It’s kind of personal,” she said. She even looked away a little, just to sell the lie. It wasn't even a lie, per se, just something she didn't want them knowing. That wasn't too bad, right? “It’s something I’d like to keep to myself, if that’s alright.”

Raphael gave her a long look. The sting from the butterflies slowly faded the longer Lute kept quiet, but a sort of weight settled on her the longer the silence went on. Eventually, Raphael turned their gaze back to whatever they were looking at before (Lute’s soul, most likely) and hummed softly. “I see. I suppose we all need our secrets. I commend you for finding something you enjoy, though.”

She couldn’t help it—she flinched. That heaviness settled deeper into her chest, and the butterflies were not helping at all. 

It hurts at first, Charity had said, but if this was supposed to be healing, wasn’t the pain counterproductive?

She wanted to slap Raphael’s hands away. Only a modicum of self-preservation kept her from doing just that. “Are we done?” she asked instead.

“Almost,” Raphael replied. “Yours is darker than the others.” Finally, after a few more long moments, they straightened up and gave her a grimace. “Tell me, are you feeling any heaviness in your soul?”

Lute shook her head. “No.”

The grimace tightened. “I see. Tightness in the chest?”

“None at all.” The heaviness grew.

“Dark thoughts of any nature?”

“None at all.” This one, she meant. Her thoughts were clear as ever.

“Very well,” Raphael said. They wrote something down on their clipboard before giving her a shallow bow. “It’d please me if you came back next week. Soul sickness is no laughing matter, and yours is . . . worse than most, to put it lightly.”

That set Lute on edge. “Don’t put it lightly, please.” She just barely kept her tone lighter than she wanted it to be. “I’d like to know what I’m working with.” If only so she could pretend and keep them off her back.

Raphael sighed but sat down lightly beside her. Emily, who Lute completely forgot was there, settled on her other side. “When I look at your soul,” Raphael began, “I see a range of healthy to unhealthy.” With a wave of their hand, they manifested some kind of projection—a twinkling star that was pitch black and cracked at the edges. The icing on the cake was the huge chunk just missing. Just looking at it set Lute on edge. “This is your soul—well, a depiction of it, in any case. See how it’s cracked and black?”

Lute nodded. “I suppose it shouldn’t be like that.”

“It should not. A healthy soul is brighter and . . . complete. I’ll be clear with you, a sickness like this would have killed any other Heavenborn soul. That you and your sisters survived like this is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Okay, so how do I fix this?”

“Just what I prescribed—weekly cleansing sessions and meditations. Exposure to activities that differ from war and exterminations also help with clearing the sickness.” They hopped off the bed. “So please, it’s imperative you come again next week.” Their face was set like stone, stern and no-nonsense.

Lute sighed internally but forced herself to bow shallowly. “I will try to make it next week.”

That didn’t seem to appease Raphael, whose faint smile melted into a frown. “Lute, I’m serious. You have survived a long time, but in the weeks and near months that we have been addressing this, you have made very little progress. Consider this a mandate from the Heavenly Father himself.”

She bristled. Gritted her teeth, bit back a scathing remark. Could they even do that? Wasn’t that some kind of blasphemy, acting like one’s words came straight from God?

A warm hand rubbed her shoulder. Lute flinched and turned to reprimand the offender, but Emily’s worried face had her rethinking that course of action. “Please, we all want to see you and your sisters get better,” she pleaded. Pleaded! God, how pathetic could she get? “Trust me, it’ll make you feel a whole lot better!”

Once again, Charity’s words echoed back in her head.

Yeah, it hurts at first, but it gets better the more you stay with it.

“Then I’ll take your words to heart. Are we done here?” She wanted out. She got everything she needed from Raphael—if there was even anything she got, anyway.

Raphael sighed. “We are. I will see you next week.” With a pointed look, they gestured to the door.

She was free to go.

Wasting no time, Lute hopped off the bed and marched right out. She had no direction in mind—just anywhere that wasn’t here. Maybe she could clean the Archives with Uriel again; they didn’t ask intrusive questions nor commented on her health.

Before she could get far, though, light footsteps raced after her, and Emily hopped in front of her. “Say, Lute, are you doing anything today?” she asked.

Lute barely kept from rolling her eyes. Only just. “Not necessarily. Did you need me for something?”

“Kind of.” When she smiled, it was brighter than anything Heaven had ever produced. Just like that, Lute knew she couldn’t say no to whatever she had in mind. It would be like saying no to one of the children’s souls. “We’re almost done with the Happy Hotel, and I was wondering if you’d like to help me inspect the inside. You know, make sure that everything’s sound and comfortable?”

“All due respect, but doesn’t your construction team take care of that?”

“Well, yeah, but there are a lot of rooms and not enough hands! I’ve asked some other exorcists, too, so if you're worried about sticking out, that's not gonna be an issue! Wanna come?”

She should say no. She really should, but that face . . .

Emily was giving her the puppy eyes. Lute couldn’t say no to the puppy eyes . . .

“Very well,” she sighed. She only regretted it for a moment; the pure joy when she squealed and took her hand nearly melted her right then and there.

“Perfect! Come on, then! You’ll love it, I’m sure!” And just like that, Lute was recruited. She allowed Emily to drag her to the new hotel reluctantly.

Well . . . the reluctance was tempered with the odd, joyful fluttering in her chest.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Okay I lied, there's going to be one more part-

Anyway enjoy! :3

The new hotel was a little ways away from the palace and just outside the city limits, inviting its residents to take a walk in Heaven's natural beauty while keeping them close to society. Lute had to admit, the location was . . . nice. It was nice. If this was her home, she wouldn't mind it being like this.

The building was several stories tall with white and blue walls and the occasional golden accent around the windowsills, door frame, and wood grain. She wouldn’t compare it to the Hazbin Hotel—not by a long shot—but the silhouette was there. Tall building, many floors and windows, but far prettier.

“This is nice,” she commented. Emily practically glowed with how hard she smiled.

“Isn’t it?” she giggled. “Everyone worked so hard on it! I’m so proud of them!”

Emily skipped ahead, and Lute followed after her. The closer they got to the hotel, the more details she could make out—including a small crowd of workers and a few exorcists. Whether or not they were on Lute’s side remained to be seen, but she was tentatively glad to see them. Very few were like Charity, and she took some solace in that.

“Hello everyone!” Emily called out once they reached the group. “Thanks for coming!!”

“No worries,” one of the sisters, Lyre, said. “What’s the mission?”

“We’re just making sure everything is safe and comfortable for our incoming guests.” Out of some kind of pocket space, Emily produced a bundle of clipboards and shimmering paper. She kept talking as she passed them out. “There are like four floors and twenty rooms per floor, so you’ll pair up and inspect the rooms assigned to you. The paper I’m passing out to you all tells you which floor you’ll be on, so find someone with the same floor and rooms as you. Remember, there is no wrong answer to these forms! Just fill them out to the best of your ability, and Sera and I will review them once we have them all.”

As the workers and exorcists received their papers, they started murmuring among each other and looking for who got what floor and rooms. Lute planted her hand on her hip as she waited for her assignment. Emily finally stopped in front of her with four pieces of paper and one clipboard left. Lute glanced around at the others and found they’d already paired up. She turned back to Emily and raised a brow.

“You’ll be my partner,” Emily said. “We’ll be on the fourth floor!”

What was this? A ploy to get them alone together? A way for Emily to keep an eye on her, to spy on her as Lute had been spying on the Seraphim on those first days?

Did she suspect her activities like the snake did? Like Raphael seemed to?

Before she could voice her complaints, Emily looped her arm around Lute’s and pulled her to the entrance, where the others were already walking in. As they passed by, a few of her sisters seemed just as unconvinced about this hotel as Lute felt, which was a good sign—there were still a few with some sense.

If it was possible, the inside of the hotel felt much lighter than the outside. To her surprise, each breath she took was cleaner than the last; at the same time, it stung her nose and throat like mint candy.

“What is that?” Lute breathed before she could catch herself, but she found she didn’t care that it had slipped out. “Why does the air feel like this?”

“Isn’t it nice?” No, Lute wouldn't say it was nice, but it wasn't bad, either. Emily breathed in deep and fluttered her wings. “The Heavenly Father blessed it not too long ago. Only the best for our new guests!”

Oh. Of course. In the wake of the freshness of the new hotel, Lute almost forgot that not only was Emily for the scum infiltrating Heaven, the Heavenly Father was in on it, too. Wasn’t it Him who made it so souls could only go to Heaven or Hell? Souls hadn't been able to change their destination for thousands of years, so what kind of hypocrisy was this? What was even the point of inferno and paradise if souls could switch whenever they wanted?

“Let’s get this over with, then.” Lute wiggled her arm out from Emily’s and marched over to the elevator. She passed by a parlor with a full-length shelf full to the brim with books, a snack bar with individually-wrapped bags of small snacks, and a door that led to some kind of dining room. Their colors were soft and pleasing to the eye, bright in some spaces and mellow in others, drawing the eye and producing the least amount of strain possible. The headache Lute felt coming for the past few days petered out the longer she spent here, and she was loathe to admit that the parlor felt nice. Like it was healing her body and maybe even her soul.

Some of her sisters, paired up with workers who were not exorcists, waited by the elevator. With Emily catching up beside her, it would be too crowded.

“There’s another elevator over there.” Emily nudged her lightly and gestured to another elevator on the other side. The doors slid open, and no one else was waiting.

Lute considered the pros and cons of riding alone with Emily. On one hand, she could prod her for anything concerning the snake or the Heavenly Father—Lilith told her to get as much information as possible, after all.

But before she could fully consider the options, Emily waved her over and skipped to the other elevator, where they would be painfully alone. Grimacing and with no other choice, Lute followed behind.

Maybe this would be beneficial. Lute would spin it in her favor.

The door dinged and slid shut; they were some of the last to come inside, and apparently, they were the only ones of the last ones to have to take the elevator. The first few seconds left them to stew in silence while Lute looked for something to dig for and while Emily seemingly just enjoyed the ride. Lute took this moment to regroup.

Okay. What did she know so far?

She knew the Heavenly Father returned. Whether or not He permanently resided in the snake was up in the air, but He had returned.

She knew redemption was possible. The snake somehow made it here some time between the failed extermination and the moment Saint Michael called her to discuss her fate and that of her sisters, and the spider made it only a few days ago. She also knew that the Seraphim were just as determined as the demon princess to make it happen.

She knew if everything proceeded as it was, there would be more intruders in Heaven.

She knew somehow, Saint Michael and Saint Raphael were determined to strip the exorcists of their purpose, to get rid of the exterminations—and they were succeeding.

She knew the Heavenly Father supported this. Likely, He had instigated this.

She knew He somehow liked the snake more than He liked the exorcists.

She knew He was incredibly unreliable and quick to switch moods.

She knew He could come into the mortal plane—and she knew it hurt like a bitch when He did.

And she knew that somehow, that little tune that Lilith somehow found in the garbled mess of the recording opened a path into the Heavenly Father’s realm. Assuming it worked the way she wanted it to, they could theoretically go where others did not.

What Lilith wanted with such information, however, was a mystery—one that Lute didn’t know if she wanted the answer to. She still didn’t trust the bitch, but she was the only one able to bring back Adam.

“So, how are you adjusting?”

Lute blinked, snapped out of her thoughts, as Emily’s voice cut through her mental list. Glaring at the Seraph, Lute scrambled for something to say, something that wouldn’t give away her plans or anything incriminating. “Huh?”

God, just end her.

But Emily just smiled softly and clicked the pen in her hand. “How are you adjusting? I know Sera had you working with her, and you’ve been doing exorcist work before all this. How are you adjusting?”

Lute blinked slowly. “I have done more than ‘exorcist work’ before this, you know. The exterminations were only once a year.”

“A-ah. Right! Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you, uh, did nothing else?” Emily’s shoulders rose up to her ears, and her smile turned tense and awkward. “So, um, what do you usually do?”

“Before or after all this?”

“Just—anything! Tell me about yourself!”

The doors opened. Lute stepped out, relieved that the ride was so short and thus, she didn’t have to answer any more questions. “Where to first?”

Emily deflated a little, but she skipped forward nonetheless. “Room 401. We’ve got the first five rooms.”

Looking a little to the left then right, Lute spotted room 401. She quickly marched over, and as she opened the door, she quickly wondered what more she could possibly learn from the Seraphim, but everything she’d learned so far from them was more about the concept of—

Redemption. She still didn’t know how it happened. If she could just dig into that process . . .

If she could find out how it happened, she could find a way to stop it.

She gave Emily a sideways glance. Emily seemed oblivious, already walking into the room and showing her around as if Lute would be the one to stay in here.

“So? What do you think?” she asked. “How does this room feel?”

For the first time, Lute looked around the room. Unlike the rest of the hotel, this room’s colors were in the dark greens, less saturated in some places but embellished with gold and white in others to give that bright pop. It felt closer to the hotel in hell, from what little she’d seen in her own fight with Vaggie. Better, probably—the room was more of a suite than a room. The one they were currently in looked like a sitting room of some kind.

“It’s a little dark, isn’t it?” Lute said. She shut the door behind her; best not to risk anyone listening in on their conversation. “Are you sure this would be conducive to healing?”

“Dr. Dahlia and Dr. Rania told me that certain colors can help heal,” Emily explained. She walked around as she talked, ticking off the boxes on her paper and looking over the chairs, the couch, and the two doors leading into the other rooms. “Green, blue, yellow, and white can induce healing in the human mind, which is the entire goal of this hotel. Less saturated colors are less straining to the eyes and generally a little more pleasing to look at, which can bring a sense of peace and contentment. If we’re going to be hosting more redeemed souls, they’re going to be bringing some scars with them, so we can't go making their living space stressful. They'll be facing quite a bit of that in therapy, after all.”

Great. More problems for Heaven to deal with. Everything was much easier when all they had to do was kill the fucking demons. 

Lute stepped further into the room and pretended to inspect the furniture. In truth, she didn’t give a shit about whether it was comfortable or safe; she needed to seem cooperative was all. “How do you even redeem a demon? I thought they were supposed to go to Hell forever.”

Emily didn’t respond right away. The sounds of her pen ticking off boxes filled the silence, and when the silence grew too long, Lute turned to face Emily. She noticed her doodling on the paper, brow furrowed and seeming unsure about something. Either that, or she was contemplating the merits of telling Lute what she knew.

She was hiding something, she just knew—

“You make them have a change of heart,” Emily said, and Lute internally balked at her forwardness. Was she really so trusting with information like this? “It has to be true and consistent, or else the soul goes to Limbo forever—just like the demons you’ve been exterminating all this time.”

Lute furrowed her brow. “Limbo?” Was she really learning more than she bargained for with this? “Where the—where is that?”

“From what I understand, it’s sort of an in-between space between life and the afterlife. Raguel says nothing should be under the surface, but it turns out there’s a lot under the surface.” Emily uttered a humorless chuckle. “All the exterminated souls suffer Anger, Grief, and Nothing down there. It sounds . . . horrible.”

Ah. A pit grew in Lute’s stomach. That was where Adam was. “I see.” She managed to keep her voice from shaking. “Is there a way to get them back?”

Emily shrugged. “The Heavenly Father managed to pull five eggs from there, but it must have taken a lot more effort than He lets on. He hasn’t tried to bring anyone back since.” 

The Heavenly Father did it. Of course he brought back something as useless as those stupid, nosy eggs.

Emily furrowed her brow and tapped the pen against her lip. “Or, was it something about the effects of Limbo? What would even happen to a human soul . . . ?”

Lute blinked. “What?”

“Anyway! That’s why we need redemption—and these hotels! We want to minimize the souls going into Limbo, and we want to bring down Hell’s population; this is the best way to do it!” And just like that, Emily snapped back to her bubbly self. She hopped back to Lute and held out the checklist for her to see. “So, how comfortable does this room feel to you?”

Lute flinched back, barely kept a sneer off her face. “Isn’t that subjective?”

“Of course! For example, I find this room to be utterly refreshing, but that might not be how you feel. That’s why I had us all pair up!” Emily smiled at her again with that joyful face and those hopeful eyes. “Come on, really feel it out. Describe it for me.”

No getting out of this one. “Alright, alright.” Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Lute tried to . . . feel out the room.

At first, nothing really felt any different. Like the parlor, there was something cool and breezy about this room—but the more she stood in silence, the more she felt it.

A quiet song echoed in the air, simultaneously joyful and welcoming. As if it was happy to see her, to know she was standing here in this moment. The song sounded familiar, with a voice both haunting and lovely. She knew this voice—and at the same time, she didn’t.

Her soul filled with something big. Something painful, something wonderful. She staggered in place, choking back a gasp and blinking back tears. When she opened her eyes, Emily looked at her with concern, but Lute waved her concern away.

“It feels welcoming,” was all she said before turning on her heel and walking right out of the room.

That welcome had to be a lie. The Heavenly Father did not mask His displeasure at the exorcists.

-.-.-

The next room they visited was much the same, with only the furniture placement differing. Same  colors, same furniture, same three rooms. This time, when Lute marched into the suite, she took a peek behind the other doors. One was a bedroom with a queen-sized bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a dresser, and a walk-in closet.

“So, what did you do when you weren’t, uh . . . working?” Emily asked. Lute rolled her eyes; she could just say “exterminating.” It wasn’t like it was a sin or anything.

“Whatever Heaven’s citizens do, that’s what I did,” Lute replied. The people had seen her many a time, after all. It wasn’t a secret that the exorcists existed. The only thing forbidden to talk about was their job. As far as Heaven’s citizens were concerned, they were there for protection. “Adam and I used to spend a lot of time in the shopping center. It was . . . nice to just walk around and know that everyone was safe because of us.”

Emily said nothing to that. When Lute glanced at her to check her reaction, she was met with something uncomfortable and sad. Emily fidgeted with her pen and clipboard for a bit before going back to inspecting the rooms.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “It . . . must be hard being away from Adam.”

That pit in her stomach grew. Lute scowled. “He died for nothing, you know. In trying to protect Heaven’s people, we still received two of the sinners.”

Emily blinked. “Died? Lute, Adam’s not dead.”

What? “He’s—he’s what?” Cold like ice washed over her as Lute just—just stared at Emily. At this Seraph who shattered what she thought she knew like it was nothing. Adam was alive.

Adam was alive.

He was alive and nobody told her. Who else knew? Sera, surely, right? The Archangels? That Morningstar bitch? That snake sinner and his fucking spider friend?

The Heavenly Father.

Lilith.

Cold morphed into white-hot rage. Lilith knew and—and she said nothing!  

“Um, Lute?” Emily’s voice was so far away it may as well have been in Hell. “Are you okay?”

Lute said nothing. She said nothing as she stormed out of the room, out of the hotel, away from this cold healing and false welcome.

That bitch is going to pay!

Chapter 3

Notes:

AAAAND this marks the end of Lute's Mission! I hope you enjoyed ^^

Here's some art for the chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/peppermint-whiskers/790256165036621825/lute-be-like-only-god-can-judge-me-but-cant

As for a hint of the next installment, it's gonna either be God's Face or God's Hobby ;3

Out of the hotel, into the skies, over Providence City—Lute flew like a bat out of hell and with more fury in her soul than when Vaggie left her to rip her own arm out.

She knew. Lilith fucking knew, Lute just knew it. She knew and she strung her along, kept her at her beck and call all this time—from the very beginning! She shouldn’t have trusted that witch; she was shady from the beginning!

The forest canopy below her densified rapidly, which was her sign she was in the right place. Tucking her wings in, she dove down into the canopy, ignoring the branches whipping past her face and landing harshly on the ground, heedless of the ache in her joints and the burning in her chest.

As always, the warmth that pervaded Heaven so thoroughly siphoned out of her, replaced with cruel cold in this godless place.

“Lilith!!” she screamed. “You fucking bitch, come out here!!”

No answer. She knew the bitch was here, though. She'd just visited her!

“If you don't come out here right now, I'm telling everyone I know where you are!!”

That got a reaction. In a wash of flame and shadows, Lilith appeared right in front of Lute, dressed in deceitful whites and blues. If she didn't have those horns, she would have been mistaken for a resident of Heaven. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth tensed in annoyance.

“You already gave me your report,” Lilith sighed. “What could you possibly want now?”

So nonchalant. So sure of herself and her safety here. The hate and rage in her chest burned Lute to the core. Her spear materialized easily in her hand, and before her head caught up with her soul, she screamed and ran straight for Lilith.

It was stupid. It was sloppy. But the fury within her screamed at her to kill Lilith, to end her before she—

Lilith grabbed the end of her spear and twisted. Lute yelped as her arm twisted with it. Her breath knocked out of her, and she suddenly found herself splayed on the ground, gasping for breath and helpless. The canopy above her, blurry and fading in and out of focus, was blocked by a smug grin and a pointed look.

“What was that supposed to accomplish?” Lilith asked. She feigned a yawn. “If this isn’t information on the Heavenly Father, then you can—”

“You—you lying bitch.” Lute coughed roughly. Her singular arm ached and throbbed, but she pushed herself up with it anyway. “You told me Adam was dead.”

“Did I?” Lilith hummed, and the faux innocent look on her face made the burning spread and sear through her entire being. “I only remember promising to let you see him again. Where in that is the lie?”

“You—!” But the more she wracked her brain, the less Lute recalled. There was a promise, of course—that was the entire crux of their deal. “You—you never said anything! That’s practically lying—!”

“Lying by omission?” The bitch had the nerve to give her a pitying look. “Did you learn that from Him, too? Wrongs by actions, lack of actions, thoughts, and omissions . . . maybe I was wrong in employing you if you fall for such foolish thought.” Her expression immediately darkened. An oppressing air spread about her as she advanced, and the pure pressure had Lute scrambling back.

Suffocating, oppressing, dark and cold. The site of her amputation tingled unpleasantly, and her soul burned in her core. A small, pathetic sound escaped Lute’s throat as Lilith advanced and her horns grew out of her hair and her eyes bled red and her form warped and twisted and became one with the shadows of the forest—of the forest that grew cold and long and warped alongside her.

“You may not have given me your soul,” Lilith rumbled, and her voice grew deep and ominous and terrifying, “but we have a deal. You honor your end, and I’ll honor mine. Unless . . .” A smile grew on her face, a bright, unsettling crescent among the shadows. “You wish to suffer the fate of your other sisters.”

“No!!” She didn’t know when or how she ended up curled up against a tree trunk, but she quickly hopped up and just—tried to stand strong. Tried to pretend Lilith’s presence wasn't bigger than anything she’d seen in Adam, wasn't more intimidating than Saint Michael or Sera, wasn't more unnerving than the snake’s and Raguel’s strangely piercing eyes. She stood, set her jaw, and tried not to tremble in place. “I brought you what you wanted. I gave you information all this time, and you’ve done nothing with it! Let me see Adam!” She took one shaky step forward; Lilith didn’t even flinch. “Or will you not hold up your end of the deal?”

For a moment, Lute was sure she’d sealed her own fate. Lilith’s expression was unreadable, but the fury in the shadows around her and the pure rage exuding from her stance, from the way her fingers flexed practically screamed in her face.

Then, a chuckle, light and airy yet still so, so suffocating. “I can reunite you with Adam now,” she chortled. “If you’re lucky, you will ressurrect in Hell alongside him. With everything you’ve done, I wouldn’t be surprised.” In a flash, she brandished a trident made of flickering flames and writhing shadows, screaming with eerie song full of suffering and power. “But who knows? Maybe you’ll end up where exterminated demons go.”

Her words held promise.

Promise of eternal suffering.

Lute swallowed harshly. “I-I . . .”

“Or.” Her voice softened into something deceptively soothing. “Or you can be patient and do as I say.”

Just—do as she said. The deal was that Lute would gather information in exchange for seeing Adam. The knowledge that she had yet to see him, that she didn’t even know if he was okay or anything—she gritted her teeth and gathered her courage.

“No.”

Lilith raised a brow. “No?”

“No. You have strung me along for months now—do you honestly think I’ll just go back to doing whatever the hell you say!?” Her spear materialized in her hand, and Lute stormed closer and closer, raising it in preparation to strike. “You fooled me once—you and everyone in this fucking realm! I will not be made a fool of again!!” With the practice of thousands of years, she struck.

Lilith parried the blow with her own trident, brushing the attack away as if it was nothing. Before Lute could make another swing, Lilith swiped a hand through the air—

—and she found herself drowning. She found herself in muffled darkness with no way of knowing which way was up or down.

Do you think you can stand against me?

Lute flailed in the darkness—in the nothing all around her—looking for anything familiar to orient herself with. But she could find nothing. She was surrounded by nothing, suffocating in nothing—

I don’t need you. For seven years I have been gathering information on the Seraphim and the goings-on in Heaven.

Her soul ached deep within her, squirming and writhing and longing for completeness. It hurt— God, it burned—! And yet when she tried to scream, her mouth could not— would not open.

You are convenient. You are weak. I have the strength of millions of souls—you hardly have half of one.

Red eyes opened in front of her. Lute’s scream caught in her throat and behind her nonexistent lips as the color pierced straight through her eyes and stabbed her head. She tried to cover her face, but she could not move her hands, could not find them in the darkness or in her perception of her own limbs.

I was His first human soul. I alone hold power not even Adam could replicate! Do not forget—

!!!!

A shriek pierced the air. One moment she drowned in darkness—the next, Lute sucked in a heaving gasp before coughing and gasping and sucking in as much air as she could. The cold from the forest was gone, and with it, Lilith. Nowhere to be seen, not a trace of her shadows or her power or her presence.

In its place was the snake, his six golden wings spread out and his eyes alert. Wide and odd on his face, and when those red eyes turned to her, she could have sworn she saw a bit of gold glittering within.

It was gone before she could confirm.

The forest was warm once again.

“Exorcisssst,” Sir Pentious hissed. Or—no, his frown was too deep and his face scrunched. Disgust, pure and plain. “Why are you here?”

Lute carefully stood up and bowed her head. The pressure of His Presence was almost a balm compared to Lilith. “Heavenly Father. It’s—nothing. I was taking a walk.”

The Heavenly Father flicked His tongue out briefly. His eyes narrowed, but if He suspected Lilith’s presence, He said nothing about it. Instead, He looked her up and down. If possible, the disgust grew stronger on His face.

She braced herself for the insults and barely disguised derision.

But it did not come.

“Go see Raphael,” He said—no, commanded instead. “You are ill.”

As unexpected as this was, Lute still wanted to argue just out of principle, but the warm breeze brushed around her gently, nudging her wings and urging her to fly. She expected a harsh shove and barking orders—not the stern look and almost gentle insistence.

Judging by the look on His face, this was not His choice.

Instead of arguing, instead of butting heads against this being she should not be butting heads with, she allowed her wings to unfold. The tension held within them immediately released, and her shoulders fell along with it.

Yeah, going anywhere but here was a good idea.

Absently, Lute gave a bow before leaving. She could feel the Heavenly Father’s eyes track her as she flew further and further away. Those eyes didn’t leave her, even when she long since lost sight of the snake. It was like God was driving home a point; no matter how far she flew, no matter where she was, He could see her. He could see her.

Lute gritted her teeth. She knew she should count herself lucky that she had gotten away with everything so far, but now she knew . . . she knew she either needed to be more careful, or she needed to break this deal off.

-.-.-

In the corner of His mind, Elohim rumbled unhappily. Pentious, now back to his body, blinked the flecks of gold away and glanced at the eye popped open on his halo.

“Okay, what the hell?” he snapped. “You hated her not two seconds ago! And what the hell was that?”

What was what? Elohim asked innocently. Oh, but there was no innocence to be found—Pentious could feel the mischief and amusement. Is it so impossible to believe that I would be concerned over soul sickness?

Pentious squinted at the eye. “Then why didn't you cure it?”

And rob her of her journey? Alexander, my dear, you have much to learn.

“Wh—how did you—ugh, never mind. What about that?”

What about what?

“That! You know—” Pentious gestured vaguely at the forest around them, where something sour burned on his tongue and something slimy slithered down his spine “—that.”

A hum soothed the slime and sweetened the sourness on his tongue. I see no reason to look into it.

Pentious’s eyes snapped open—he didn’t even realize he’d closed them. He stared straight into space, and if he focused hard enough, he could only just make out the outline of Elohim’s Spirit. “Excuse me? Why!?”

The Spirit dissipated, and Pentious’s arms rose up to wrap around himself in a self-hug. “Because,” Elohim said through his mouth, “some things are much more fun as a surprise, are they not?”

Something that sour and slimy? Pentious asked. Isn’t—

“If I fixed every little thing, then what would be the point of free will?” Elohim spread His wings and flew back to the palace. “Lucifer’s gift would be a waste, and the exorcist . . .” Trailing after her afterimage, His eyes narrowed and His mouth thinned. “She must learn.”

Sir Pentious said nothing to that. Elohim could feel his trepidation, but that was alright. This was a lesson well worth learning.

~.~.~

“Goodness, you’re lucky you came in,” Raphael muttered, and Lute couldn’t even bring herself to be annoyed with their tone.

was that judgment? concern? was it possible they cared for her?

Her chest ached fiercely. She wanted to scratch her soul out of her core, give it a good squeeze until it popped.

But she couldn't. The soul in front of her was just a projection—she couldn't touch it, couldn't squeeze it, couldn't pop it. She couldn’t touch the razor sharp edges protruding like thorns in a flower. She couldn’t squeeze the flaking pieces back to where they were supposed to be. She couldn’t pop the whole thing into nonexistence to rid herself of this pain. 

Raphael’s hands and butterflies fluttered around her, fussing and healing sharply and painfully. Was it supposed to hurt this much?

When they looked at her, their gaze didn’t seem as severe as before. Like the Heavenly Father, it seemed . . . sympathetic? Maybe empathetic? Certainly there was more concern there. “How bad is the pain?” they asked.

“. . . It hurts,” Lute said. “Why didn’t you tell me Adam was alive?”

Raphael’s eyes widened for a moment before their gaze softened. They exhaled softly, and their hands reached out to hers—but they didn’t touch her. She didn’t know if she wanted them to. “Would knowing earlier have made you feel better?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, but for some reason, it didn’t feel right. But it was as if something possessed her, something rightly furious. She glared at Raphael, who looked down at her soul’s projection—not at her. “Why did you hide it? You should have told me from the beginning!!”

“You are volatile.” Their voice was flat, empty of the empathy they expressed before. “I took measures to ensure your soul’s health.”

“By lying to me! Just like—” Lilith. She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep the name from slipping out, but Raphael flinched anyway. It was imperceptible, only just visible, but they flinched. Their jaw clenched just the slightest bit before forcing it to relax.

“I apologize for omitting the truth,” they said softy, their words slow and deliberate. “I apologize for causing you such turmoil—but that turmoil is what I wanted to avoid. Look at your soul, Lute.”

She looked. It looked disgusting. The first time the snake looked at her, he threw up—Lute felt her stomach roil sympathetically.

“This . . . is dangerously close, and Adam is a highly sensitive subject for you and your sisters. I could not risk setting you off before, and I certainly cannot risk you skipping anymore. I need you to attend your sessions—in fact, I’m bumping them up to three times a week. And I’ll need your spear.”

Lute inhaled sharply. “No. No, you can’t take it—”

“I cannot risk you mortally wounding yourself with it. At this stage, I cannot guarantee what you will and will not do.” Raphael held their hand out. “Your spear, please.”

Buzzing numbness overtook her as Lute robotically summoned her spear and handed it to Raphael, who gave her a grim smile before walking over to a cabinet and placing it gently inside. With a wave of their hand, the door closed and locked.

Click.

Just like that, Lute’s livelihood was gone—sealed away.

“I’m not gonna kill myself,” she muttered, but the yawning ache in her chest burned deeper.

Raphael turned away from her. They closed their eyes, and she could barely make out a pained expression behind their hair. Whatever they were thinking of, they did not share it; they just came back to Lute and called back the butterflies. “Come see me the day after tomorrow,” they said in lieu of responding. “I want to stave off the soul sickness for as long as possible. Okay?”

“Okay.” She agreed without thinking. She slid off the bed without another thought, without bidding Raphael goodbye. She left without her spear, with a rotting soul in her core.

-.-.-

She had a few moments of silence in the hall before footsteps came running down and something barreled into her. Lute didn’t acknowledge the presence, not until Emily scurried right in front of her and gave her those worried eyes.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, no regard for Lute’s desire for peace and quiet. “I’m so, so sorry no one told you sooner! I thought you knew.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Lute asked, voice flat and devoid of emotion. “When the hell was I supposed to know that the man I saw get stabbed Fell? That he’s living his life as a demon.”

Emily didn’t respond. Not verbally, at least—not right away. Instead, she carefully took Lute’s hand and led her away from the open hall and into the library. Two eggs flitted about near the ceiling, and she vaguely wondered if that meant the snake was here, too. She couldn’t find it in her to care, though. Not right now.

Emily sat down on one of the sofas sitting under a window. She patted the space beside her, and Lute stiffly sat down. Not once did Emily release her hand. She wasn’t sure she wanted her to.

When she spoke, her voice seemed to echo in the silence. “From what Pentious told me, Adam seems to be doing fine. He’s in the hotel, rehabilitating himself.”

“He’s . . . in the hotel.” With the scum of the Earth. Redeeming himself through the means Lilith intended to destroy. In the hotel that apparently worked.

Emily, unaware of the inner turmoil churning in Lute’s gut, nodded eagerly. “Charlie helped Sir Pentious and Angel Dust, so she can absolutely help Adam! If he’s willing to put in the work, that is.”

“Can I see him?” Did she even want to? She couldn’t stand the thought of Adam as a demon—didn’t know if she could handle the sight of him without the viscerally violent reaction she got around the redeemed sinners—but she couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing him any longer.

The hand around hers squeezed tightly. “I’ll—I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t guarantee they’ll let you.”

Lute gritted her teeth. If they didn’t let her see him soon, she would—

I’m not gonna kill myself.

A knowing, pained look.

Lute took a shaky breath. Suddenly, she was grateful her spear was locked up where she could not reach. “Can I tell the others?” she asked. She knew many more who would want to know.

But Emily pursed her lips. “I—I trust Raphael. If they don’t think it’s a good idea, then—”

“Bullshit!!” She refused to feel bad when Emily flinched, but her soul ached fiercer. “They deserve to know!!”

“I . . .” Emily twiddled her thumbs. Her face pinched, and if Lute had to describe the expression, she would call it frustrated. Biting her lip, taking a long, slow breath in, she finally met Lute’s furious gaze. “I’m not as familiar with healing souls like Raphael is,” she said. “If they say that withholding information is alright . . . I—I don’t know. I—we still haven’t even told many people about the exterminations, but . . . I can maybe talk to Raphael about telling some of the more stable ones?”

Lute gritted her teeth. That wasn’t good enough. Growling under her breath, she twisted away from Emily, but once again, she was stopped before she could get away.

“I can see about setting up a space for you and Adam to meet.” The words left her quickly and quietly, as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. “I can’t make these decisions myself, but I can help you in the ways I can. Okay?”

No. No, it was not okay, but Lute didn’t have it in her to fight about this anymore. “Whatever.” She shrugged Emily off and marched back to the barracks. To her ire, delicate footsteps followed her down the halls and down the stairs until they reached a section that branched away from the main palace.

Even then, she did not go away.

Instead, she asked in that soft, caring, annoying voice of hers, “Will you be okay by yourself?”

Yes, Lute wanted to say. No, another part begged to cry out. She elected to do neither—couldn’t think of what to say, couldn’t think of what to do. So she said and did nothing.

That was apparently answer enough. Emily gently took her hand again and tugged her away from the barracks. Lute let her lead her back outside, toward the tulip garden some of her sisters had been working on for a while now.

And Emily talked. Lute didn't pay any particular attention to what she talked about, but her voice was a constant buzz in the back of her mind, in the corners of her ears. And for a while until the annoying, young Seraph had to get back to work, Lute felt . . . just a little warmer.

~.~.~

Late at night, as she tried to sleep in her room in the barracks, the shadows moved. They swirled behind her, reflected clearly in the mirror, and all Lute could think was not this bitch again.

But there she was. Wrapped in shadows, hidden from prying eyes, Lilith stood boldly in the middle of the bedroom.

Lute didn’t turn around. She didn’t dare look at this woman, who felt so safe in Heaven that she dared to stand in the home of the Seraphim.

“You’re sick,” Lilith said in lieu of a greeting.

“Our deal is over,” Lute replied. “Not that you ever honored it. I don’t need you anymore, so go find some other idiot to rope into your plans.”

“Ah, but I have a feeling you don’t want to let this fester too long. As much as I know you long to see Adam, I’m sure you don’t want him to see you . . . like that.”

Suddenly, the reflection in the mirror warped into something red and black, something with no eyes and a yawning mouth full of yellowed fangs. Ferocious, wild, and feral.

With a sharp gasp, Lute backed away. Behind her, Lilith chuckled darkly, and Lute wished she hadn’t given her the satisfaction of a reaction.

“What would he think?” she lamented. “One of his best warriors, cast down from Heaven and forced to live among the lowest of the low? Done in by a broken heart, of all things.”

With a snarl, Lute whirled on Lilith and summoned her spear—but it did not come. Damn it, she’d given it up—!

She choked on her own breath; Lilith stood right in front of her, full of fire and surrounded by shadows. “I can make it go away,” she whispered. “You just need to do one thing for me.”

“Y-yeah—you think I’m going to fall for that again?” Lute stammered. She desperately kept herself still, kept herself rooted to the spot because she did not— could not—continue to give this woman the satisfaction of her fear. “You barely kept your end of the bargain. Besides, you’re a fucking human soul! And you think you can heal a soul?”

“I was a human soul.” She cracked a smile. It was jagged, sharp and fierce with the screams of dozens and hundreds and thousands and millions of souls echoing deep within. “Now, I am the Queen of Hell—comparable to God Himself. Just ask, and I’ll make it happen. I’ll take the sickness from your soul and fuel myself with it. I’ll take your suffering and merge it with my own. All you have to do for me is tell no one that I am here—plus one little favor.”

One favor. A favor? “But—”

“Don’t worry about spying. You have given me everything I need from here. Even if you hadn’t inexplicably broken like you have, I would have called it a job well done.” Those eyes narrowed, and the sense of vicious amusement thickened in the air, nearly choking Lute. “I would have let you see Adam.”

Liar!

“But that is neither here nor there.” Lilith held out a hand, dripping in shadows. Those drips turned into wisps when they hit the floor. “Do we have a deal?”

Lute licked her lips, the pit in her core growing heavier and heavier. She could feel the infection festering. She could feel sick heat pulsing from her core out to her fingers and toes, to the top of her head and the base of her spine. What choice did she have . . .

She could see Raphael as many times a week as they commanded. She could follow their instructions, go to those stupid meditation and cleansing sessions. She could take that long road to recovery that very few of her sisters succeeded in.

Or . . .

Or, she could take the deal. Lilith would heal her, could give her a fast-track ticket to a healthy soul in exchange for a favor. Sure, Lute would be putting herself in debt with this woman, but it would be worth it.

So, with only a little reluctance, Lute clasped her hand with Lilith’s. “Deal.”

Lilith chuckled. “Good. I will let you know when it’s time to redeem your cure. Good night.”

And she was gone.

Without curing Lute’s soul.

It weighed impossibly heavier, growing warmer and warmer as Lute’s fury grew and grew, like a hotspot of a soon-to-be volcano.

Tricked again?

No, she had to believe. This . . . this would be worth it, right?

Right.

It had to be.

~.~.~

Lute saw Saint Raphael the day after next. They were alone in the healing halls with only the butterflies as company. Raphael’s hands formed strange movements and shapes as they cast healing spells over her, and their words were spoken in hushed whispers, occasionally becoming absolutely inaudible.

Unlike last time, there was no sting.

Raphael’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand,” they murmured. “It should be working. It’s almost as if something is preventing me from healing you.”

A dangerous thrill shot down Lute’s spine. “Does that mean I’m exempt from these sessions?” she asked.

Raphael gave her a look. It was a piercing look, an unhappy one. She had foiled their healing attempts—did they know it was Lilith who was probably preventing this? “No. Continue coming during your allotted times,” they said. “This is very grave indeed.”

As always, Lute bowed when she was dismissed. The deal was set, then. Lilith would fulfill her end of the deal—and when she did, Lute was certain she would see Adam again.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 18 of Heavenly Serpent