I have entered this story in the Wattys 2017! Good luck to all those who enter :D

Dedicated to Ghost. Because I fricking can.

"I don't just give away my name to everyone. It tends to... freak people out."- Lucifer Morningstar

Chapter XIV

I stared at the picture in disbelief, still not exactly over the fact that my own ancestor knew the Trickster, and good enough at that to decide to take a picture with him.

I couldn't help but wonder if he knew I was Christopher's descendant... and Cassiel's as well.

I held the picture closer to my face, Ghost following my every movement, and took a close look at the fallen angel and Nephilim on the picture.

Christopher had a fair and delicate and young face, without any stubble. Light eyes and long, pale hair. He seemed rather tall, yet the Trickster still easily towered over him. Nephilim look human enough, my subconsciousness noted with a shrug.

His arm was swung around the shoulders of the Trickster and Christopher had a wide grin on his face, revealing slight dimples. Both wore cowboy hats and looked as if they stepped right out of a Wild West movie.

The Trickster on the other hand, did not smile, yet he still looked very different from how I often saw him. With a flash, I realized.

It were his eyes. And his exposure. There was no tenseness in his jaw and shoulders and he did not look as haunted as when I first encountered him. He looked much calmer and happier.

Carefully putting the picture down, I picked up the letters once more. I scanned over the words, not understanding a thing. It seemed to be some kind of ancient language.

Holding up the letters to Ghost, I asked, "Do you happen to be able to read this?"

It is not a language I am familiar with, he told me, I am not too great with those things. We will need an expert to decipher it.

I looked at the letters once more. "Of course, I should have known." I murmured.

"Who is capable of understanding this gibberish?" I groaned. "Please tell me you know someone," I added, looking hopefully at Ghost.

The angel seemed to be in thought and I waited patiently. I think I know someone who might be able to help, he said after a while, nodding to himself. I'm sure that he will do it if I'm the one asking him.

"Who?"

Metatron, Ghost replied, he's the angel of knowledge. If someone can decipher it, it will be him.

"The archangel?" I asked, remembering reading the name from Christopher's notes. Ghost nodded. My inner Supernatural fangirl was about to surface, but I forced her away, knowing very well I needed to keep a clear head. Not now, I told her.

I put the letters in front of Ghost. "You are the angel from the two of us, so I leave Metatron to you," I told him, rubbing my head slightly.

Ghost took the letters between his jaw. Another headache? He asked me, seemingly slightly worried.

"I'm fine," I immediately said. "Everything has just been a lot to take in."

Picking up Christopher's journal and dairy, I slowly rose and went towards my room. I could feel Ghost following after me, never leaving me out of his eyes and the letters still tightly clenched between his jaw.

Having reached my room, I put both books under my pillow so I could read them later. You're not going to read them? Ghost asked.

"Not now," I replied. I spun around and faced my guardian angel. "Right now, I need ice cream," I stated.

Ice cream?

I left the room once more and Ghost followed. "Yes, Ghost. Ice cream. This delicious, cold and magical power food." It kind of scared me how casual I was with all this, but I knew I needed to stay strong and woman up.

Slowly, Ghost shook his head and disappeared from view. Assuming he had gone to Heaven to find the archangel Metatron, I went towards the kitchen for my ice cream hunt.

Pulling open the freezer, I was greatly disappointed upon discovering that I was, in fact, out of ice cream. Oh, the horror.

"I need to get new ice cream," I said to myself. Going back to the living room, I picked up the bag I had placed on the floor somewhere and pulled out the old books I had gotten as a gift from the library. I put them down on the table. They were kind of heavy and I just did not felt like hauling them with me all the time. They would be save here.

I checked to see if everything was still in the bag. Phone. Check. Purse. Check. Gun. Check. Dagger. Check. Rock salt. Check. And I was good to go.

Hauling the backpack over my shoulders and moving to the front door, my hand just hovering above the door handle, uncertainty gnawing at the pit of my stomach.

I felt like I should at least let Ghost know I was leaving the house. But then again, he also seemed to know whenever I was in trouble. Like with the ventula.

It will be fine, I decided after a while of debating the pros and cons to myself. If some monster does decides to attack me, I will simply kick their arses and make them regret ever thinking they could ever think that in the first place.

Nodding my head, I left my home and entered the streets of New York. Seeing as it was roughly the middle of the night, there were surprisingly many people outside - which probably had to do with the beautiful red moon high in the sky - seeing as there were that many people outside, my body relaxed slightly from the tension I did not ever realize I had. Many people mean a lesser change of monsters appearing.

I hurried past the other pedestrians, staying unnoticed by everyone as I made my way to the small grocery store - for New York standards - not too far away from my own home. It always comes in handy, living nearby to a grocery store.

Most of the stores I walked past were already closed, but luckily for me, my destination was open until 2 am. A bell dinged when I walked in.

The clerk looked up only shortly, but focused his attention back to the magazine in front of him after giving me a neutral glance. There weren't that many people in the store; there was this guy dressed in black who had his head covered with a hoodie, a male hipster with a flowery shirt and long hair, an old woman and a small group of teenage girls. I shook my head and went towards the ice cream section.

Pressing my hand against the glass, I peered at the different flavors of ice cream, deciding which one to take. After a while, I finally settled on both Cookie Dough and Strawberry Cheesecake. Ben & Jerry's, of course.

Grinning happily to myself, I went towards the cashier, just when a nauseating feeling washed over the store like a dark cloud. I tensed up.

Demon.

A thunderstorm rampaged outside, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Demonic omens, maybe? My subconsciousness guessed wide-eyed.

Cursing my bad luck under my breath, my eyes fell on the entrance of the store - and the only exit. A tall, dark shape had appeared there. Lightning illuminating the sky overhead and the demon stepped further into the store. Fiery red eyes glowing in the dark.

The other people looked at the demon wide eyed and shuffled further away from him, heading towards what seemed to be an emergency exit. The clerk had yet to look up from his magazine.

Momentarily, I wondered how they saw the demon. As a gangster? Or a biker maybe?

When the demon stepped into the little light the store provided, my breath caught in my throat. It was the Trickster.

Illuminating slitted red eyes fell on me and he honestly looked surprised to see me standing here. The red of his eyes faded away and they turned back to their usual dark blue color.

A wide grin appeared on his face. I took a step back. It was not what one might call a smile; it was feral and wild. The grin of one who had stared into the abyss for way too long. And someone who had nothing to lose, for they already lost everything.

The fallen angel took a few more careful steps towards me, his eyes calculating. He seemed very different from when I met him in the library, or when I saw him enter the pizzeria with the other fallen angels.

No, he looked as when I saw him for the first time. Feral, dangerous and with so much anger and hatred about him. His lips curled up in a snarl and I could make out a flash of sharp fangs. He seemed seriously pissed off about something.

I held up my hands. "Wow, calm down," I asked carefully, as if I was talking to a savage animal.

"Why in Hells name do we keep walking into each other?!" He bellowed, I winched at his loud volume.

"I have no idea," I replied honestly. "Fate maybe?"

If looks could kill I was seriously dead by now.

"I don't believe in such things," he snapped, but he did seem to have calmed down slightly. Only a bit though.

I shortly thought about pulling out my dagger, or gun. But I doubted it would have much effect against a fallen angel. How did you even hurt, let along kill, them? The only ideas I have come from Supernatural. And I did not exactly have an angelic blade in my possession, not did I knew for sure how reliable it was.

I glanced towards the clerk, who was still focused on the magazine, seeming oblivious to everything happening around him. I have to at least protect him, for if Feathers here decides to go berserk.

Daringly, I looked him straight in the eyes. "Who are you?" I asked, proud of not stuttering or showing any fear. Keep on a poker-face, Harlynn, I told myself.

He tilted his head, the thunderstorm still raging outside, casting an almost eerie glow on his features. "Why do you care?"

"We have met a few times now," I started, his unnerving gaze still focused on me, "don't you think I at least should know your name?"

He slyly grinned. "I don't just give away my name to everyone," he almost purred, his eyes flashing bright red once more. "It tends to..." he seemed to be searching for the right word, "freak people out."

Suddenly, he stood right in front of me. Startled, I stumbled backwards but his hand shot forward and clasped tightly around my arm, preventing from letting me go anywhere. He grinned in amusement. "Oh no, you're not going anywhere, Kitten."

I looked down at his hand that was clasped around my arm and I saw how his nails elongated into sharp claws before my very eyes, digging harshly into my skin and drawing blood.

Winching, I looked up into his face once more to see him already studying me. "Let go," I said between clenched teeth, "you're hurting me."

He ignored my pleas and grinned instead, showing off his rows of razor-sharp fangs. "Names hold power," he snarled in my face, "there is no way I am giving my name to the likes of you. But if you truly wish to call me something, you can call me Lucas."

He harshly threw me away from him and I flew through the air, crashing against a pyramid of soup cans. The cans tumbled down and I held my sore arm, my hand sticky from the blood.

The fallen angel stalked towards me, claws glistering and eyes ablaze. I clenched my teeth together and on instinct, I took the dagger from my backpack and threw it towards him.

Just for the dagger to shatter into a thousand pieces the moment it as much touched his skin. He glanced down at countless shards before he looked at me once more, disbelief and surprise clear in his sharp features. "Really?" He said. "Did you really thought that would work? I hope you were joking."

He looked unamused. "You need to come with more than that pathetic thing if you wish to harm me," he told me.

"What got you in such a bad mood?" I knew I was walking on thin ice - very thin - but I couldn't help but ask.

"Angels happened," he replied, much to my surprise. I did not expect him to actually reply. "Those feathered dickheads," he snarled.

"Alright," a third voice said, surprising me and the fallen alike, "that was enough. Stop it, you two."

Both of us looked towards the source of the voice and found the clerk, who looked surprisingly calm given the situation. The strange golden eyes of the clerk calmly scanned us over and he stepped forward.

That guy is not human, I immediately realized. He is just too calm to be.

"The girl is no angel," the clerk told Lucas. "So there is no need for you to release your anger on her, it's not fair towards her. Grow up already."

The clerk's eyes flared up in a golden light and the fallen angel visibly tensed up. "Angel," Lucas muttered.

I looked at the clerk in surprise. "I know you wish to stay under the radar," the angel said, "if you wish to stay that way, I suggest you leave."

Lucas seemed to think the angel's words over for a while, weighing his opinions. Suddenly, he simply disappeared. Appearing to have made his decision to leave me alone.

The angel turned to me and I slowly stood up, my eyes not leaving the celestial being standing not too far away from me.

"I am sorry about him," the angel apologized in a deep voice, "normally he is very reasonable and he keeps a low profile. You just don't want to catch him in a bad mood."

"It's alright," I replied. Not knowing what else I was supposed to say.

I held my bloody arm and the angel's eyes fell on the wound. He stepped forward. "I can fix that for you, if you wish?" He offered, sounding unsure.

I nodded and the angel came closer. His hand hovered over my sore arm and his eyes glowed up in the same golden light as before. His hand glowed up in a white light and the light seemed to rain down on me.

When the light was gone and his eyes back to normal, the wound was gone. As if it never happened.

"Thanks," I said. The angel bowed his head.

"Who are you?" I asked him.

"They call me Metatron," he replied. "I am the angel of knowledge and wisdom."

My mouth dropped open only slightly. "Y-You are an archangel," I managed to stammer out. "The one Ghost was going to ask for help.

Metatron frowned. "Ghost?" He repeated. Then his eyes lit up in recognition. "Ah! So that is the name he goes by in this era," he nodded his head, "he hasn't told me."

"Is everything alright?" I asked the archangel, not knowing why else he could possibly be here. "Why are you here?"

Metatron held up a hand - signalling me to wait - and his other disappeared inside his coat. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. "The translations, my lady."

I arched up my eyebrows and silently took the envelope from his outstretched hand. His mouth formed an 'o' shape. "Time runs differently in Heaven than it does on Earth," he explained.

Metatron held out his hand and put it gently on my shoulder. A strange whooshing sound was heard, and next thing I knew, I stood in my own living room. My eyes drastically widened and I stepped away from the angel. "There always is a high supernatural activity during the lunar and solar eclipses," Metatron told me, "'Ghost' would literally kill me if I let anything happen to you under my watch, so I saved us both a lot of trouble and zapped you back to the safety of your home."

The angel glanced outside at the still red moon. "It is late and you need your rest. I would recommend you get some sleep. He will be back by morning." He said. I assumed that with 'he', Metatron meant Ghost.

"What about Lucas? The fallen angel?" I couldn't help but ask.

The angel's golden eyes fell on me. "I assume that he returned to Hell for the time being to cool down." With that said, the archangel disappeared from view. Back to Heaven, probably.

Shaking my head and suppressing a yawn, I decided it was not such a bad idea to catch some sleep. While stumbling up the stairs, I realized something.

I forgot the ice cream. "Great. Just great."

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The next chapter is up, me little demons! And as you read at the start of this chapter, I have entered this story to the Wattys 2017 :) Truth to be told, I don't think I stand much change at winning... but it should be fun to enter anyway. I love contests. Good luck if you yourself also entered the story!

I have also decided to share one of my favorite Supernatural edits from YouTube. It doens't has much relevance to this story, I just really like it (and ship Destiel like my life depends on it). While I'm talking about Supernatural anyway, I'm also gonna share that I will start a Supernatural One Shot book, simply cus I love it so much. It will be called 'Luci's Supernatural One Shots' so keep your eyes open ;)

Anyway, back to the story... don't forget to tell me what you thought of it! Metatron made an appearance as well! What do you think of him so far? What will his role be in the story? What do you think of the picture of Lucifer and Christopher? What is their relation to each other? How do they know each other? Predictions?

Also, if you take another look at the cast of this story. You will notice I have also added Metatron and Cassiel to the list :)

Lucifer: Why in Hells name am I here?

Author: Because, my dearest, there are some more questions for you.

Lucifer: Oh no

Author: Don't worry! It aren't that many

Harlynn: Are there questions for me too?

Author: Yup

Author: Okay, let's start. First is for Luci. Satan, what's your favorite name? Lucifer, Satan, Devil, Demon Lord or Luci?

Harlynn: What? *turns to Lucifer* You are the Devil? Seriously?

Lucifer: *turns to author* Please make her forget all this when this is finished

Harlynn:  *mutters under breath* That explains a lot. He's the Devil...

Author: Of course. Both of you will forget this ever happened the moment this all is finished. Don't worry. Now answer the question

Lucifer: Okay, thank you. And to answer the question... I prefer to go by Lucifer. It is my name after all. I don't like being called 'Satan' or 'The Devil'... I will also let you get away with calling me 'Your Majesty' or 'My Lord'. I am the King of Hell after all.

Harlynn: I know one thing for sure. I will never call you 'Your Majesty' or 'My Lord'. Maybe Luci, seeing as that's pretty cute

Lucifer: *glares at Harlynn and bares fangs in a hiss*

Author: Okay thank you. And please stop bickering. The next question is: Why do people hate you so, Luci?

Lucifer: *winches* A lot of misunderstanding and the fear of the unknown mostly. I am powerful and humans fear that and do not understand the reach of the abilities. And of course there's all this Bible crap going on. Does not exactly helps in my case...

Author: Understandable. Next question is for you both. What type of music do you like?

Harlynn: *says without missing a beat* Carry on my Wayward Son by Kansas

Author: Lucifer? Will you tell us your favorite type of music?

Lucifer: No *crosses arms stubbornly and turns away*

Author and Harlynn: *sigh in unison*

Author: Don't worry readers. Then I will just tell you Lucifer's favorite type of music

Lucifer: NO!!

Author: *ignores Lucifer* Lucifer is very fond of classic rock. Especially Led Zeppelin. He even went to all of their concerts of them back in the time - never missed even a single one - and he has numerous posters and albums signed by them as well

Lucifer: *sighs* Yes, I do... I miss those times

Author: Thank you for your time, you two. This will be it for now *zapps Lucifer and Harlynn back to story*

That will be it for now with those two. If you liked the chapter, don't forget to vote/comment/share! And wish me luck for the Wattys as well! :D Until the next time guys

Hugs and knives,

- Luci

Ps. Next chapter will be in Lucifer's POV ;) Among other things, it will explain to you why he was in such a bad mood in more detail. What do you think happened?

Lucifer: Angels happened. Those stupid, feathered dickhead halo's from Jesus Land...

Author: Alight, alright, we get it. But aren't you an angel yourself?

Lucifer: Fallen are different. We are awesome