Title: Fields of Paper Flowers

Chapter: 6

Notes: The Scripture reference is Luke 1:26-27, 30-31, English Standard Version.

~~~~~~~~~~

The gardens he took her to were extensive and beautiful in a wild sort of way. It was obvious that most of the tending to it had been abandoned. Weeds mingled with the flowers, climbing vines strangled the weaker plants. He led her about the garden, deeper and deeper into it until they were somewhere in the center, surrounded by hedges, flowers, and trees. Bursts of bright colors mingled with the greens of foliage.

Jo had no idea where they were, though she thought she could smell the tang of sea air mingling with fragrant blossoms. In one clearing along the path, a picnic was set out on a large colorful blanket. She had to admit that a picnic with him was actually pleasant. No bugs interrupted her repast and the cold and hot food remained that way. He laid on his back, hands behind his head, watching the sky and trees above their heads, staying silent while she ate. This time he didn’t eat, though he did invite her to take her fill of the foods provided. Jo ate more than she had in a very long time. Maybe it was the sea air she thought she smelled that stimulated her appetite.

He seemed in a mellow mood, contemplative even. At times like these, she sort of liked him a little. It was in these moments he was the most like Sam had been. Sometimes Jo wondered if, like demons sometimes did, he really did let Sam rise to the surface to see. He’d told her he did. Who knew if it was truth? If Sam could see her, what was he thinking? Did he regret his decision to accept Lucifer?

When she was full and couldn’t take another bite of the decadent cheesecake that had been for dessert, he got to his feet and held a hand out to help her up. He began to walk further along the path, obviously expecting her to follow him. Jo decided to ask him one question that she’d had on her mind.

“What exactly do they think I’m here for? Those people you took me to awhile back. And Marta.”

She had a pretty good idea by now. The close watch Marta kept on her diet, the insistence on proper rest and exercise, the zealous monitoring of her menstrual cycle. Marta’s constant nagging about the drinking Jo indulged in with Meg. It all added up to one thing, but she wanted to hear him say it; needed to hear the words from him.

Eyeing her for a long moment, he stopped and bent, cupping one flower and sniffing it, then standing tall again. Jo braced herself for whatever he was going to tell her. She didn’t know why she asked him anything, since he never actually gave her a straight answer and when he did, it conflicted with what he’d already told her. She wasn’t sure she knew what truth was anymore. Maybe she asked because Lucifer liked to hear himself talk? After all, a good companion knew when to listen, right? She did an awful lot of listening. He sure liked the sound of his words through Sam’s voice.

“In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David.” His glance lifted to the sky. Jo resisted the urge to see if he was looking at something up there, keeping her attention on him. “And the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son….”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she told him. It was exactly what she’d been expecting. She should have figured it out way back when he’d taken her to that party and all those nuts had been talking about babies.

“Am I? They’re looking for symmetry, of course, through perversion of The Bible. Son for a son.”

“I’m not Mary and I wasn’t a virgin.”

“You’re my Mary in their eyes.” He twirled a finger at her in an almost playful gesture. “The ones I’ve taken you to, that is. The truth of the Antichrist…now that’s quite a different matter.” He walked a few more steps along the path, touching this plant or that one with a gentle touch bordering on absurd. “You weren’t a virgin and you weren’t betrothed, though your emotions for Dean were quite strong. You were chosen.” Amusement played about his features. “You’re all gullible, believing anything, with hopes easily crushed. You need something to believe in. I see no reason why that something can’t be whatever I want. Or whomever.”

“Why even play along?”

“Why not? It amuses me while humanity careens to it’s end. All I need to do is direct here and there, then sit back and watch. You’re all so eager to take lives. Like Sarah’s.” His small smile chilled her. “Sarah had to go, Jo. You once wanted to know why she wouldn’t work. Because,” he flicked his glance down her and back up, “she couldn’t bear children. I knew it the second I touched her. One day she might have spent thousands to discover that truth. She thought I was Sam, too. She thought he’d found her to have a future together. Oh, she was looking forward to it. You should have seen the joy in her eyes when she saw him…us…me. She came willingly, without one contract between us. She had such a warm smile. I could see why Sam liked her.”

Jo wished she had a sweater or jacket with her. Goosebumps covered her bare arms. Hadn’t he told her that his followers had taken Sarah? He had. He’d said they became impatient and took her, implying he’d never seen her.

“Jo, she was too easy to break. I had her terrified in hours, panicking…. From his memories of her I’d expected someone tougher to crack than that. Her spirit simply…opened to me. It was barely a challenge at all. Hardly worth the effort.”

“So sorry she disappointed you in that matter.” Her sarcasm was noted by narrowed eyes, Jo expecting some punishment, but he apparently decided to be lenient, merely continuing his narrative of events.

“I let her try to kill me before I erased all traces of my presence. Then, I whispered in Alicia’s ear that if she killed Sarah, she could also get rid of Marta. After that, I watched to see what choices they’d all make. Sarah had been doing homework since she’d seen Sam, loading up her human brain with knowledge that would have been more dangerous if she’d spent a little while longer with Sam. She’d learned about the salt, but she didn’t know how to make her own holy water. The fight between her and Alicia was messy, blood everywhere. Marta had to replace the carpet and when she found Alicia’s handiwork? She made her own choices and came out on top.”

“You’re a monster.”

“You say potato,” he replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t disappointed, just like I wasn’t disappointed in you and your choices. Everything I see reinforces what unworthy creatures you really are. You’re violent out-of-control animals who shouldn’t have dominion on this planet in the first place.”

Jo hugged herself as the sunlight disappeared behind the darkening clouds and the temperature began to drop. Wind whipped the treetops. “What did it matter if she could have children or not? Or if I can have them? She didn’t have to die.”

His lips tightened into a thin line. “Sarah did have to die, Jo. She was deficient and I explained her deficiency to them.”

“What, after she was dead? The ability to have children doesn’t matter. It’s only a fiction you’ve got those people believing. You wanted to kill Sarah, so you made it happen. They never would have known she couldn’t have kids if you hadn’t told them. There was never a reason for them to know at all.” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Why did you want her dead? What was it about her that could have threatened you?”

His tongue slipped out, wetting his lips. “Nothing any of you creatures do threatens me.” In a blink he was to her, looming over her, gaze colder than normal.

Rage, she thought. This is his rage. I’ve hit a nerve, but with what? What part of that angered him? She waited for his retaliation in a state of strange calm. What would it be this time? How would he make her bleed? Jo couldn’t stop her next words from leaving her mouth. “Were Sam’s feelings for her stronger than you first thought? Would her presence have given him strength in there, enough strength to displace you? Was that why you had her killed?”

“Let me clear something up for you. There is no way I can be displaced, Jo. Sam can try all he wants, but this isn’t a split personality or some other psychological diagnosis you humans cling to for order in your pathetic lives. It’s not simple or easy. He can’t ever regain control. Do you understand? I’m in control. I can’t be stopped by any of you. Don’t you know that by now?”

This time, she remained silent and after a moment, he returned to the conversation as though she hadn’t angered him. Jo breathed a quiet sigh and wondered if she was right about Sarah. However…his anger might not have been about Sarah at all. For all she knew, his temper could have been at her refusal to just accept his statement that Sarah had to die. He didn’t like it when she didn’t believe him.

“For their fiction, the ability matters. They believe that Sarah killed Alicia and Marta had a vision of Sarah’s barren state. I told them Marta was correct and it all worked out, because I have you.” He sighed. “You’re correct about yourself. You can have children.” Reaching out, he tucked her hair behind her ear. “But you won’t. These things take time and I believe their time will run out waiting for that blessed event.”

“If I do get pregnant?”

“Meg will take you for an abortion. While good medical care may be fast becoming obsolete, those are still readily available.”

Her stomach felt loose and wobbly inside. Jo tasted bile in the back of her throat. Good to know that he wasn’t planning on cutting her open and ripping the child from her if she conceived. She could imagine him doing that easily enough. “You can’t just make it go away?”

“Of course I could.” He nodded, then shook his head. “I won’t. You could have chosen some form of birth control and you didn’t. There are consequences to all actions, after all. You know that.”

Jo staggered back as though he’d struck her. The pleasure on his features made her rising nausea worse.

“Really, Jo. I’m not unreasonable. I would’ve worn a condom if you’d but asked.”

Her head spun like she’d stayed too long on a merry-go-round. “Messing with my head,” she gasped, though she didn’t think he was this time.

He shrugged, “Perhaps,” and began once more down the path, moving away from her.

In that moment, a reckless part of Jo woke.

~~~~~~~~~~

They weren’t friends. One didn’t become friends with a demon, but somehow, Meg’s constant presence began to fill a need in Jo. It was like hanging out with the school bitch in high school. You always knew where you stood, yet sometimes it seemed you really understood each other and had an understanding. Circumstances threw you together. You’d hang out even though you hated each other’s guts. This was the sort of relationship Jo developed with Meg, an almost parasitic push and pull of wills.

“You said you’d once waited what felt like forever for him. Did you ever give up?”

Meg took a long swig from the whiskey bottle they were passing back and forth between them. “I had a moment of doubt, where I gave up the overall plan and went about my own ways, but then….” She handed Jo the bottle. “Then, the sacred event occurred and he was free. I fell to my knees and reaffirmed my commitment. Can you imagine my surprise when he found me and chose me to guard you? Why me, I wondered, and when he told me the reason, I was honored. The importance of it can’t be measured.” She shook a cigarette from the pack in her pocket, offering one to Jo.

“Why were you honored and why is guarding me important?” Jo took a sip of the liquor. She refused the cigarette. It was a nasty habit.

“Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to tell you, though I can say it’s a bitchin’ plan. You’d appreciate how he’s working it all together if you knew. One by one the pieces connect. The complexity of it…. If one piece doesn’t fit when it’s needed it all falls apart, but so far all the pieces have settled where they’re needed. It’s beautiful. Abso-fucking-lutely beautiful.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“You should be honored to be a part of his plan, Jo. I mean that. Do you understand how many humans have tried to gain his attention over the centuries?”

“Thousands?”

“More than that. You didn’t even have to try hard to do it. All you had to do was be…” She trailed off and shook her head. “That would be telling and I can’t. What I can say is that the victory he’ll gain is eagerly sought.”

Over and over, Jo was frustrated in her attempts to discover why Lucifer had wanted her; why only she would work in his plan. She thought through all the things he and Meg had told her and decided there was one constant truth in their words. She’d been chosen because of who she was and what she was, but that phrase ‘what she was’ could mean many things. Jo didn’t really know how he meant it, continuing to spend long moments musing upon it to no conclusions.

The thing about Meg, was that when she wasn’t being a taunting demon bitch, she could be somewhat fun. Always willing to play games -- must be some demon requirement -- and matched Jo drink for drink. Granted she was a poor loser, but Jo had ceased to mind that quite so much. She’d drive when Jo was too drunk, though she didn’t use a seatbelt and ignored all those silly rules of the road. Not that there was much need for the rules anymore. They weren’t even supposed to be outside at all. No one was.

There were always people willing to party though. No matter how bad it got, Meg could locate at least one illegal club in operation on a daily basis, people gathered in direct violation of recent United States law, drinking and dancing as the world ended around them.

She wore a wide beaded bracelet to hide Lucifer’s mark most days, or a white gold one. Meg said she should wear the sigil with pride, maintaining that she was stupid to try and hide it like she was ashamed of the mark of glory.

Jo was ashamed. She was ashamed of her weakness that day long ago. What she should have done was walk away, refuse to consider his offer and deal with the consequences, however terrible they’d seemed at the time. She should have sucked it up and let her mom and Dean go. She’d had to do that anyway, but at least if she hadn’t made her deal, she’d be free of Lucifer. Eternity taunted her. It was a long, dark space filled with cold and misery that would never, ever end.

When they sought out parties, she’d learned to leave the bracelets in the apartment. Lucifer’s sigil got her free entrance to the events. She was able to walk straight to the door and go in like a celebrity or royalty even. She and anyone with her -- usually a detail of demon guards ranging in number from two to ten, all hand-picked by Lucifer specifically for those occasions. Meg would inform him they planned to go out and the guards would leave wherever his entourage was right then to meet Jo and Meg outside their building.

Once, Lucifer had even joined them for a few hours. He and Jo had sat at their table side by side, Jo with a drink and Lucifer greeting men and women like a king holding court. Meg had deserted her to dance, leaving Jo with only Lucifer for company. Jo had watched as pretty young women came over to ask him to dance, their glances lowered, body language flirtatious. Indeed, the entire evening had been very much like a scene from a period drama, Henry the VIII’s time maybe. Court intrigue, currying favor, and all of that sort of thing she remembered from having read The Other Boleyn Girl one bored weekend a few months earlier.

The women had been disappointed in their efforts, Lucifer turning them down with a charming smile and an arm about Jo’s shoulders. He always pretended to be loving in public, as though he was trying to change some people’s minds about him.

Inside the parties, Jo got free drinks, food if she wanted, the best seat, and a following of hangers-on who thought they knew what the mark meant. They’d come to wherever she and Meg sat, flash their own cruder marks, and ask her to bless them with his favor. No amount of saying that she had no influence put them off and Jo finally began telling each one that she’d consider the request ‘in due time’.

It was the people, the humans, who approached her. The demons knew the score, treating her with contempt even as they kept her from being harmed by those people.

How messed up was that?

When Jo realized she couldn’t save herself, she imagined Dean saving her, like she’d hoped he’d do at Navy Pier a couple months earlier. He’d whisk her from harm. The desperation for that end to her circumstances was so deep that it could not be measured. She could see it in her mind. He’d drive up in the Impala, grab some weapons from the trunk and find her. Meg and Marta would be toast. He’d take one look at the sigil Lucifer had burned onto her like a cattle brand and know just what to do. He’d liberate her, like a knight or prince in a fairy tale. Her hero.

Hurry, she pleaded silently.

If he didn’t find her soon, Jo wasn’t sure how much of her would be left. She was sinking in steady degrees. The longer Lucifer worked on her, the less remained of herself. She was being shaped by the things he’d planned and done and there was no way to stop this downward slide she was on. At least, no way Jo could stop it by herself. She needed help.

Jo had to believe Dean was still looking for her. That thought helped her to hang on and continue enduring those things Lucifer did to her.

She decided to go out for New Year’s Eve, end 2011 with a bang, asking Meg to locate a party of some kind. They dressed in slinky cocktail dresses too short and thin for the cold and shoes too high to be classy.

“We look like high class hookers,” Meg commented before they walked out the door with their cadre of demon guards.

Jo ended up drinking too much too fast. Vodka, tequila, mixed drinks…anything set before her. With any luck, she’d pass out in a stupor and stay that way all night. Or maybe she’d poison herself with it and die before the new year began. Vision hazy, she ignored the people who came to pay her court, responding only when Meg prodded her. She just wasn’t in the mood for this shit tonight. Maybe leaving the apartment had been a mistake. They should go home.

“This was your idea, Jo-Jo. Can you at least pretend to be enjoying yourself? Smile at them. Ask yourself how a queen behaves and be exactly what they think you are. The royal consort must greet her subjects.” Meg quirked a brow at her.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Meg to go screw herself. “They have no idea what’s really going on.”

“Nope. Nor would they believe you if you tried to tell them. Why don’t you go dance? This is the kind of sucky music you like.”

“Right. Like I enjoy having one of these fawning drunken yahoos rubbing his half erect penis against my ass, crooning about how lucky the big guy, Lucifer, is.” Besides, she was sobering up too much. Jo contemplated ordering another drink, swirling the dregs of her last one in her glass. “No, thank you.”

“My, aren’t we touchy tonight?”

“I want to sit here and get wasted and have you carry me home so I can puke on his shoes when he pops in demanding to be serviced at three a.m.. Is that too much to ask?”

“You’re the one who asked for this life, Jo. You agreed to all of it and now you’re crying about it? Grow up, baby. You took your free will and made all the choices to get you right where you’re at. Revel in it.” She craned her neck. “Oh look, here come more of them. They are all just flocking in to see you tonight! I swear, this place is practically at capacity. Fire hazard!”

Looking up, Jo found another group of people making their way across the crowded room to her. Meg was right in that a lot of people were coming to see her. They kept coming every few minutes, group after group. Jo hadn’t seen this many people in one place in a long time. Some she even recognized from that humiliating party Lucifer had made her go to months earlier. She shifted in her chair. One of the men seemed familiar. He’d been at that party, hadn’t he? One of those faithful followers so certain of what he believed, leering at her while her nudity had been on display. Upon seeing her, he pushed forward, fists raising.

“You promised to give us his blessing,” he yelled, voice audible over the pulsing beat of the music. “My family has the virus. My entire family. My wife tried to kill me!”

She remained silent, staring at him. Jo had never promised anything, being careful to never say that word.

Meg stood, stepping down the three steps to be at the same level. She blocked his way up them. “Are you daring to raise your voice to her? You who have the significance of a worm?”

Demons stepped forward, making a line between the man and his group and Jo, protecting her from the human element, with Meg at the fore. Jo drank those dregs at the bottom of her glass. Every last bit of her buzz faded away, leaving her depressingly sober.

“Bitch,” the man spat.

“Oh, I do hope you’re referring to me. It’s my time of the month and I’m just itching to kill someone. Give me a reason to gut you.” Meg took a step closer to him. “Please?”

His eyes were bugging out, veins throbbing in his forehead as he jabbed his fingers at Jo. “Her. I refer to her. That bitch slut. I made sacrifices to him. You can’t just ignore me.”

“She can if you’ve no real faith.”

Jo thought he was going to have a fit. Was that foam at his mouth? She squinted, leaning forward in her seat.

There was no chance to find out, a panicked cry ringing the room as the music stopped mid-song. “Infected!”

For the space of seconds, there were no sounds at all, but then Jo began to hear those noises of a frantic crowd. Cries of fear, of chairs and table being upended, and the slap of flesh connecting with flesh. She watched the panic begin.

A new song began to play, old-fashioned, sad in tune, and one Jo didn’t think was actually on any of the discs in the booth. It was ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’, that old song often used in movies about World War II. Her line of guards parted, revealing Lucifer coming across the room towards her. All around him people stampeded, screaming in terror as the infected attacked. The flashing colored lights gave the scene before her a surreal cast. He stopped, holding a hand out to her in invitation.

He wants me to dance with him, Jo realized as Meg tugged her to her feet, led her down the steps, and gave her a nudge in his direction much like a proud mother handing her daughter off to her prom date. Jo stepped to him, placing her hand in his and being drawn against him. Out of all the activities they’d engaged in these past months, dancing had not been one of them until now. The incongruousness of doing so in the middle of a slaughter made her giggle, yet for the most part, she managed to keep herself together.

They slow-danced in the elegant fashion befitting a couple in the Forties or Fifties, not the present. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched the people die. Lucifer only watched her, a tiny satisfied smirk upon his lips.

“Isn’t this beautiful, Jo? The perfect way to ring in the new year.” He dipped her backwards and returned her upright.

The screams of the dying and the eerie growls of the infected almost drowned out the final strains of the song. When it ended, there was a moment of silence before the demon guards and Meg began to count down.

“Five, four, three, two, one…. Happy New Year!”

He kissed her, a seconds long brush of his mouth to hers.

The only sounds were those of the demons laughing.

Lucifer stepped back, offering her his arm. She took it. All around them, bodies and parts of bodies littered the floor. Jo smelled blood and gunpowder heavy in the air. Twice she nearly slipped on the puddles of blood, kept upright only because of his arm. The disease had reached the city.

Welcome to 2012, she thought as they stepped out into the chill night, their shoes leaving bloody prints on the pavement. Year of the infected.