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“My Queen?”
Lilith heard her High Priestess’ voice as if from underwater. They had been sitting in the living room of the Spellman Mortuary, going over a draft of the Church of Lilith’s official doctrine, when Lilith had found her mind drifting. Her eyes, too, were tending to wander to the many garish decorations that adorned the parlor. The Spellman family might be Satanists, but the mortuary nevertheless looked to be decorated in honor of the birth of the False God’s son. When Lilith had arrived, the High Priestess had apologized for the display and explained that it was “Christmas Eve,” and that she and her sister had raised Sabrina to observe mortal holidays as well, in honor of her mother’s religion.
“Lilith?”
Lilith tore her eyes from the angel that sat atop the tree, wondering vaguely if it was meant to be Lucifer before he had fallen.
“Yes?”
Zelda looked at her with a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Zelda put down her pen and paper in favor of taking a long sip from her whiskey glass. “I asked if you thought the first ten points are satisfactory, but you didn’t answer.”
“I’m sure whatever you’ve written is…suitable,” said Lilith, standing up with a sigh and walking to the fire.
“What’s wrong, Lilith? You seem distracted.”
Lilith didn’t know what to say to that. She was distracted, but she didn’t want to admit that Christmas decorations were bothering her. It was silly to fixate on the evidence of the False God’s influence on her High Priestess’ family. Lilith herself was acquainted with the traditions, though she had always preferred the Festival of Lights to the Nativity.
“I apologize. The season…doesn’t agree with me,” said Lilith, only realizing how true the words were after she had spoken them.
Now that she was free from the Dark Lord, she wondered if perhaps she had misjudged the False God as well. After all, in the Beginning, she’d had the wide-eyed innocence endemic to being a new, unique creation. She had worshipped the False God for bringing her to life, and all was well, for a brief time. But from the moment Adam had tried to force her to lie beneath him, she had learned not to let herself get too complacent. She was only a witch-ling when she was cast out of the Garden; she never had the chance to know a different existence.
Lilith could not afford to let herself sink into the sweet melancholy of remembering a time before the race of men took over the earth, when she and Lucifer were the only beings for miles. She must remember to keep her head up and her eyes front. Focusing on the future instead of the past was how she had managed to survive every horrific thing that had ever happened to her, and it wouldn’t do to stop now, when things were finally looking up.
Still, despite all of her efforts to the contrary, Lilith found herself feeling a sharp pang of—something—as she stared into the fire. The flames reminded her of the candles she had helped to keep lit thousands of years ago, in Jerusalem.
Oh, the candles! She might not worship the False God after all that he had done to her, but she did respect the mortals and their traditions when it came to celebrating what they called “miracles.” As it was, she had been there at the Second Temple when the oil burned for eight nights instead of one. All it had taken was a simple spell.
Lilith nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a soft hand on her shoulder.
“Lilith?”
Zelda Spellman’s eyes were wide and bright. Lilith could see the reflection of the flames dancing in them.
“Yes?”
“Is there anything I can do?” Zelda’s voice was soft and oh so very earnest.
Lilith closed her eyes, imagining a hannukiah placed on the mantel. It might be a symbol of the False God, but it was also a symbol of hope, perseverance, strength.
“Will you indulge me in an…unusual request?” said Lilith, opening her eyes to see her High Priestess deliciously close. She would lose herself in this woman if she wasn’t careful.
“Anything,” said Zelda earnestly, desperately, as if she couldn’t imagine ever denying a request from her queen. They would have to talk about that. She didn’t want Zelda’s blind devotion; she wanted them to be equals in this new church.
Lilith leaned a little closer and nearly lost the ability to breathe when Zelda’s eyes flickered rather noticeably to her lips. Did Zelda think that her request was for something…sexual? Surely, she didn’t think that Lilith would abuse her power over her acolyte?
With a wave of her hand, Lilith produced a menorah. Zelda’s expression, which had previously been consumed with lust, morphed into confusion.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve involved myself with mortals. In fact, over many millennia, I have become acquainted with many mortal traditions. I am particularly fond of this one.”
Zelda recovered from her shock slower than she would have liked. “Are you saying you participated in…Jewish religious celebrations?”
“Perhaps ‘interfered,’ rather than ‘participated,’ would be the more accurate description.”
Zelda watched closely as Lilith lit the shamash.
“Are you saying that you worshipped the False God?”
Lilith sighed as she lit the first three candles. It was the third day of Hanukkah, according to the lunar calendar. After 5780 years of life, she had nearly an encyclopedic knowledge of important dates and when they fell.
“He created me, Zelda.”
“He would have let Adam rape you,” said Zelda. “He cast you out of the Garden!”
“You would have let the Dark Lord rape you,” said Lilith quietly, carefully, as she replaced the shamash. “And yes, he did cast me out. But there are some aspects of Judeo-Christian culture that I can appreciate, like the Festival of Lights.”
Zelda stared at the menorah in reluctant fascination.
“Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner Hanukkah,” Lilith said, the foreign tongue heavy in her mouth. She hadn’t spoken this blessing since she left Jerusalem.
Zelda’s eyes returned once more to Lilith’s lips. “I’ve never heard another Satanist speak Hebrew before.”
“Yes, well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” said Lilith
Zelda nodded, stepping closer. “There’s something else I would very much like to do for the first time.”
Lilith smiled, reaching a hand out to caress Zelda’s cheek. She didn’t know if it was the warmth of the fire or their proximity, but she felt heat pooling in her belly.
When Zelda’s lips met her own, everything seemed to stop. Time slowed down as Lilith’s world narrowed to the point of contact between them. Zelda seemed uncertain, her lips moving timidly, as if afraid that Lilith would reject her. Well, that just wouldn’t do. Lilith returned the kiss fervently, sliding her hands into Zelda’s hair as she did.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and elated, Lilith thought that kissing in front of the fireplace really ought to be made one of their traditions.