And I'd judged the concept of Ayala as an angel, not a demon. The creature from all planes was predicted to secure the worlds, limiting the use of aether to all but itself, and destroying the creations of the multiverse for its own reasons. The mix of planar variances in its body would make it a weapon. Sentience would give it grudges. The forces battling inside its body would make it temperamental and unpredictable.
Damned if that didn't describe Sia. She felt things stronger than most. It showed in her art. She'd learned how to act like she was calm enough, but the emotions crawling in her paintings proved it. She had brilliant and unprecedented ideas, thought on her feet - like when she was face to face with the dragon that first time - and she'd already locked two worlds away.
But if all of this was true, then we'd been teaching her wrong. Our goal had been to protect and care for her, yet Sia was the closest thing to a god that could be born. She was the culmination of an idea, destined to manage more power than any of us could imagine. And while that sounded good, I couldn't help but worry about what it would mean for her. My beautiful, innocent little human girl. The one who'd broken all the rules we thought we knew, and who really did feel so good in my arms.
I couldn't imagine an existence without her anymore. Screw Firiel and her memory. She'd made me feel like I was such a great man. She'd fed my ego and loved my body. She'd also been a means to an end, and if I was honest, I mourned her mostly because she'd given me a purpose. One Michael had stolen away. I never wanted that to happen to Sia. Because, as powerful as she was, that woman was still very mortal. She might not age, but she could definitely die.
"Luke?" Bel asked, sounding concerned.
Wondering if he was thinking the same way I was, I looked over at him. "Yeah?"
But he held up a box of feminine products. "They have sizes. What size is our Muse?"
"I don't think those are sizes," I said, reaching up to take the box from his hands.
And yet, sure enough, there was definitely a big S marked in the bottom corner. So, like Bel had just done, I tried reading the back. Sadly, it didn't really help much. So I put the box back and grabbed another. Then another. Each one was different, and I had no idea what options she'd want.
"Plastic applicators, cardboard, or none," Bel said. "Different sizes, although I do not think that is for the opening, but the amount to suck up."
"Disgusting," I mumbled.
He chuckled. "I do not know the word, but you understood. Cosmo said that using the right product makes a woman's time of month easier to handle." He looked over at me. "What if we get it wrong?"
"I think that right now, she'd be happy with just about anything."
He gave me a look like I was a fool. "Just because she does not complain doesn't mean she needs to suffer. One of my wives had cramps so bad she could barely walk. What if Sia has that?"
"Then we'll get her Midol," I told him. "And she's currently standing in the brook waiting for us to get back."
He turned to head further down the aisle. "She's with Sam. She'll be fine."
I was just about to tell him we should get the ones he saw in the magazine when a woman turned into the aisle. She saw Bel and me staring at the boxes, ducked her head, and smiled. I sighed. Bel, however, headed right for her.
"Excuse me," he said, waiting for her to look up before he continued. "Our girl needs tampons, and we don't know which ones. Can you help?"
"Do you know what she usually uses?" the lady asked.
Bel shook his head. "She hasn't before."
"Oh!" Then she smiled at me, and I watched as her mind put the pieces together. "Your daughter? Well, it's hard to tell at that age."
"No," Bel tried to say, but I cut him off.
"She's older, but this is our first time handling this part." And I moved toward Bel, reaching up to rub his arm gently.
The woman just beamed at us. I was simultaneously giving Bel a look that begged him to let me handle this. He rolled his eyes, which was as good as giving in.
"So, you probably want to get a multi-pack," she said, scanning the shelves. "Ah, these. It's what I got my oldest when she started. Just make sure she knows about toxic shock, and not to leave them in too long. You might consider pads for overnight."
"Like these?" Bel asked, picking up a package.
"Those are perfect," she told him. "Comfortable underwear is important, too. My daughter likes boy shorts so she doesn't have to worry about the pad or string becoming a problem."
"Thank you," Bel told the woman. "Luke, we need to buy panties."
I quickly put the multi-pack she'd pointed at in the cart, then gestured for Bel to lead on. When we squeaked past the woman, I paused to say, "Thank you."
"Just don't embarrass her," she reminded me. "This is a very awkward time for most teens, and it doesn't get much better."
"I'll keep that in mind."
The trick was keeping Bel on track. He wanted to buy everything Sia might possibly need. Blankets, clothes, and so much more. I had to remind him that for now, all she needed was Midol, new panties, the pads, and maybe some chocolate. But, when we made it to the candy aisle, he turned to face me.
"You let that woman think we were lovers."
I nodded. "I did. People tend to accept that easier than a woman with two boyfriends."
"Because you are ashamed of what Sia does?" he asked.
The sigh that fell from my lips was wrapped with frustration. "No, because we wanted her help, and she was willing when she thought we were husbands who were bringing up a daughter. She wouldn't have been so kind if she thought we were both sleeping with the same woman."
"But you are just her friend." He lifted a brow. "You could've said that. You do not get to be proud of being my lover when you aren't, and you do not deserve to think of yourself with her until you're ready to stop refusing." And once again, he leaned in. "You cannot make her proud of what she is if you act like it is bad, Lucifer."
"Luke," I reminded him.
"Don't fucking care. What is the phrase about the fence? Sitting on it? Well, stop. She is not weak. Michael is in prison. You jumped up to help so fast, and I do not think it was all for Nick. For once, just stop lying."
I grabbed three bags of chocolate candies, then wrenched the cart from his hands. "I'm not lying. I'm working the system."
"Still lying," he said, moving to walk at my side. "Would you just try?"
"Try what?" I asked, not quite keeping up.
"To be our angel," he said. "Or maybe a demon. I don't know, but try. Stop being the terrifying Lucifer. Stop trying to do for us. Maybe, just for a bit, try to be with us, ok?"
I stopped in the middle of the aisle and turned to him. "I am trying, Bel. I've been trying, but all of you refuse to let me just forget that I'm failing. You complain that I get feathers everywhere, or that I'm not moving fast enough, but I'm doing the best I fucking can, ok? I'm not a nice guy, and the truth is that I simply don't know how."
Bel's reaction was not at all what I expected. He smiled at me. "Then do not try to be nice. We like you for who you are. If that isn't nice, then do not change. Nick does not want you to be romantic. He wants you to push him. Sia does not want you to be gentle. She wants you to lead so she can follow. Ron does not need you to baby him. He is a brilliant man who passed all of us long ago."