LUCIFER ◆ N. Mikaelson

12 // Power and Control

The sun is high in the sky and it must be about mid-day. Still in the forest, I have had a lot of time to think. There is a pond a few feet away, and I am sitting on a fallen tree. I stare at the calm water. A splash is made, and ripples spread out from the middle to the ends. Glancing up, I see a few Angels across the pond. I stand up and take out an Angel blade.

"We don't want to fight," One puts their hands up.

I roll my eyes and scoff.

"That's a first. Did Michael send in team two already?"

They all tilt their heads like confused dogs. Brilliant actors.

"No, Michael didn't send us. What do you mean by team two?" A red head asks further.

I stare them all down one by one, grasping my blade tightly by my side. I would not go down without a fight. I would not let anyone hurt my child. But these Angel's did not seem to be a danger. No weapons, no fighting stances, not even a murderous glare like I was used to seeing. Perhaps I could trust them? I think back to Peter and think against it. Trust was not something I liked to give out since him. My eyebrow raised and after thinking long and hard, I spoke.

"Oh, you haven't heard? Michael sent a group of Angel's to kill me. Bastard was too much of a coward to do it himself." I spat with venom.

"Whats new," The red head laughs, "I mean, apart from all that." She gestures to my stomach.

I look down at my stomach then back at her. Something in her eyes and the way she carelessly speaks of Michael makes me trust her. Just a little. It would be nice to have some Angel's that didn't want to kill me.

"If not Michael, then why are you here? I can't imagine you want to catch up, gossip, braid each others hair, the whole lot." I put away my Angel blade but keep my eyes wary.

The red head sits down by the pond, dipping her finger tips in the cool water. Light ripples spread from where she disturbs the calmness. A few tadpoles swim up and nip at her skin, but she doesn't pull away. She only giggles, and then seems to remember why she is here.

"I suppose you could say Michael is the reason we are here. We don't like him, or what he's doing." She wiped her fingers on her jeans.

"We're Angel's with no leader. We thought that you co-

The sound of my laughter cuts the other Angel off. I stop and look at them all with a smile. When I realize they aren't joking, I put on a more serious composure.

"You're joking right? Me?" I scoff at the end, shaking my head.

"Trust me, I'm not leader material," I shake my head again, finding the whole situation surreal.

An Angel with milk maid braids speaks up, with a confused expression.

"Don't you run Hell?"

I have to take a minute to think. Running Hell and leading Angel's was very different. I had a system, an outline, something to go off of. All I had to do was keep things running smoothly, keep doing what I've done for centuries. Being the leader of an Angel Brigade? Not so simple. The idea is foreign to me. I wouldn't be any better than Michael, pretending to fill in Dad's shoes. Leading Angel's was Dad's job. There's no way I could do the same.

"What would make me any different than Michael, if I lead a rebellion of Angel's?"

The red head rolls her eyes, "This isn't rebellion. This is anarchy."

My eyes wander over each of the four Angel's. The red head, she wears light blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Her long fiery hair is half up-half down, with a braided crown. Her eyes look worn and tired, as if she's been fighting a war for most her life. And it's probably true.