Lucifer Damned (Morningstar Book 3) by Percival Constantine (list of ebook readers TXT) 📕

“Sorry, no can do,” said Raum. “Think of this like a fully immersive movie. You can look, but you can’t touch.”

Lucifer’s fingers tightened into a fist and he rushed at Raum. He raised his arm and threw it forward. But all he succeeded in doing was going right through Raum.

Raum laughed. “You can’t touch me, either. These are just projections of our consciousnesses.”

“There’s no point to this,” said Lucifer. “This is all in the past.”

“And yet, you seem to be pretty taken with your memory of Anael,” said Raum.

Lucifer didn’t want to give Raum any further gratification, even though it was clear that he was right. Perhaps Lucifer himself wasn’t really aware of how much Anael had meant to him—how much he still longed for her.

“Every time Michael asks you for something, you jump. One would think the angel you never refuse would be the one you’re sleeping with,” said the memory of Anael.

“Ouch,” said Raum. “In retrospect, that probably stings, doesn’t it?”

Lucifer didn’t respond to the goading, but he was feeling the same thing. He’d spent so much time trying to make Michael proud. And though Anael always understood, Lucifer now realized what a waste it was. If he could have that time back, he would have certainly made more memories with her.

The memory continued and Lucifer watched as he left Anael behind. And once he did, she started to fade, as did the entire room until he and Raum were floating in a void.

“Guess that’s the end of that memory,” said Raum.

“This is a waste of time, Raum. I know all too well what happened between Anael and myself, and I know the mistakes I’ve made.”

“Do you? Well, let’s test that theory.”

The void quickly filled with a blinding light, which vanished as quickly as it appeared. Once it faded, Lucifer and Raum stood in a vast expanse filled with clouds, tinted with a calming light. There was a gathering just ahead of them, with the young Lucifer and Michael bowing on their knees. Surrounding the pair were celestial beings dressed in robes, each possessing six wings in total. Their eyes emitted light so powerful, it obscured the details of their faces.

“So this is the Divine Choir,” said Raum. “The seraphim you once worshipped.”

“I never worshipped the Choir, I worshipped what I had thought they represented,” said Lucifer.

“And what exactly was that?” asked Raum.

A sinking feeling overtook the Morningstar. At first, he thought Raum’s attempts to torture him with his own memories would just be a waste of time. He’d had eons to reflect on those memories during his time in solitude.

But a new sense of dread was rising to the surface. If Raum was going to scrape through Lucifer’s memories leading up to The Fall, then he would uncover the reason why Lucifer chose to rebel in the first place. And that was something Lucifer had kept secret because he feared the ramifications of what might happen.

Those fears still existed in him today. Should someone like Raum learn the truth behind the great lie, it could lead to utterly disastrous consequences.

“Raum,” said Lucifer. “You don’t want to do this.”

Raum just chuckled. “You’re not talking your way out of this one, Lucifer.”

“This is bigger than just you and me,” said Lucifer. “If you continue to traipse through my memories, you will learn things that can’t be unlearned.”

Raum narrowed one eye while the other opened wide. “You’re not making any sense right now.”

“You have to just trust me on this.”

Now the demon laughed. “Trust you? You locked me up in an ice prison! I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sleep! The only thing I could do was reflect on how much I hated you and your absolute fucking hypocrisy. And now you ask me to trust you?”

Raum’s anger became palpable, his eyes burning with righteous indignation. And Lucifer thought this might actually work out better than he hoped. If Raum wanted to unleash his anger, then he might forget all about his plan to torture Lucifer through memory. And then he wouldn’t learn what really happened.

“Yes, I did imprison you,” said Lucifer. “Because you were a threat to the tenuous balance that had been established in Hell. But more than that, you were a nuisance I had to get rid of so I could get what I want. I locked you up in Cocytus because it was convenient for me.”

Raum’s anger grew as he bared his teeth. Lucifer’s memory flickered around them, like a television signal that was being interrupted. His plan was working, Raum was about to let his anger take hold and give up.

“You’re nothing, Raum. Just an insignificant little speck who thought he could rise above his meager station. You weren’t worth a second thought. Not then and certainly not now.”

The anger began to fade from Raum’s face, replaced with a pondering expression.

“Wait,” he said. His muscles relaxed and his features reflected an understanding that had come over him. “I see it now. What you’re trying to do.”

“Now you’re the one who’s not making any sense,” said Lucifer.

“Sure I am.” Raum turned and gestured to the memory, which was now coming back into focus. “You’re goading me into assaulting you. Because there’s something in these memories you don’t want me to see.”

“You’re insane,” said Lucifer. “There’s nothing in these memories that everyone in Hell doesn’t already know. You’ve heard the stories of The Fall.”

“The stories, yes. But there are at least three sides to every story—your side, their side, and then there’s what actually happened.”

Raum gave a knowing snicker.

“Ever since I was sentenced to Hell, I’d always wondered just what it was that led you to rebel in the first place. How did you, the most beloved of all the angels, the golden child, turn into the ultimate rebel? What made some angelic scholar decide to ignite a war of revolution?

“It’s a secret you’ve kept all this time, isn’t it? And now here we are and you’re still