Black Spring

I put my head down on the mattress, just watching my son’s chest rise and fall with his quiet little breaths. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew the baby was screaming, the house was shaking, and there was noise like thunder. Lightning flashed outside the bedroom window.

Either there was an earthquake in Chicago, or the apocalypse had arrived.

Nathaniel appeared in the doorway. “Lucifer is outside. As you may guess, he is not very happy.”

16

I scooped my son up and followed Nathaniel into the living room. All the men had washed and changed into clean clothes, and there were the remains of several take-out pizzas on the table. Beezle was perched on the mantel, reading the pregnancy book I’d never finished. The dogs were on the floor, sleeping.

My stomach rumbled at the sight of the pizza. “Did you save any for me?”

“Pizza isn’t good for the baby,” Beezle announced.

“The baby isn’t going to be eating the pizza,” I said.

“Oh, yes, he is,” Beezle said. “Whatever you eat, he eats. And I don’t think pepperoni is good flavoring for milk.”

“You, of all people, will not be monitoring my food intake for nutritive value,” I said. “Your body probably hasn’t seen anything resembling a vitamin in decades.”

Samiel, Jude, J.B. and Jack stood in the front picture window, looking out. I handed the baby to Nathaniel so I could go see what they were all gawping at.

The floor trembled, and I stumbled into Samiel, who caught me and set me upright.

He’s trying really hard to take down the house, Samiel signed, pointing outside.

My grandfather stood in the center of the street, again flanked by Alerian and Puck. They seemed to be combining their powers to break the protective spells Nathaniel and I had put around the house.

The squid had disappeared. I doubted the city had found a way to transport it in the short time we’d been home, so it was very likely one of the brothers had zapped it into oblivion.

Lucifer looked up at the window, as if he sensed my presence there. I gasped and stepped back. He wasn’t the handsome angel anymore, more beautiful than the sun. His face was twisted and dark, and his eyes burned red. Obsidian horns had sprouted from his head, and his beautiful feathered wings were the leathery appendages of a bat. This was the devil that so many had feared. This was the true Prince of Darkness, and he would not be thwarted by me.

“They can’t break the protection of the domicile,” I said. “Can they?”

“I don’t think so,” Beezle said. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. The shifter was able to because, I think, he was not a fully formed creature. But Lucifer and Puck and Alerian—their personalities and their powers have been well established for eons. The magic that protects a home would recognize them and keep them out. However, they can try to break the spells you two put around the house.”

“And if they do, what then?” I said, stepping away from the window.

“Only the power of the home will stand between you and them,” Beezle said. “And I imagine they can find a way to make us pretty miserable with just one thin layer of protection between us and Lucifer’s rage.”

“You seem very calm about all this,” I said.

He looked up from the pregnancy book. “Either I’m in a food coma or I just know you. Sooner or later you’ll come up with a solution. It will probably involve fire and destruction, but you’ll find a way to chase him off like you have everything else that’s ever come after you.”

I took the baby back from Nathaniel, shaking my head. “Everything else was nothing compared to Lucifer. I’ve never managed to beat Lucifer or his brothers at any game.”

“This isn’t a game,” Beezle reminded me.

“They’ve treated it as such,” I said. “They’ve twisted and manipulated and put me in untenable positions over and over again. And why are they teaming up all of a sudden? I thought they hated each other.”

Beezle shrugged. “Maybe they don’t. Not really. Not when it comes down to it. They are brothers.”

“Brothers who’ve gone to war time and again,” I said. “And where is Daharan in all this?”

Nathaniel and Beezle exchanged a familiar look. I raised my hand to stop them from saying anything.

“I’m sorry I mentioned his name. Don’t start,” I said.

The baby hadn’t stopped crying since the house started shaking. I rubbed his back, shushing him, and after a few moments he calmed down.

“Have you named him yet?” Nathaniel asked, putting his arm protectively around my shoulder.

I shook my head. “Nothing seems to sound right to me.”

“You could name him for his father,” Nathaniel said. He was obviously trying to distract me from the nightmare outside.

“He’s not a junior,” I said, going along with it. “He’s his own little self.”

“How about Nicholas?” Beezle said.

I wrinkled my nose. “Nope.”

“Scott? Michael? Jonquil?”

“Hey,” J.B. said.

“I wouldn’t do that to my kid. Sorry, J.B.,” I said.

“Don’t be. There’s a reason why I go by my initials,” he said.