Chapter Fourteen Azrael
Chapter Fourteen
Azrael
I’m not entirely certain we’re going to make it through this, but for the sake of the humans watching, I don’t dare show it. Instead, I stand there, ever the watchdog, the perfect image of the loyal soldier to my queen.
Queen of the Damned. That’s what the human press calls her.
If only they’d realized it was their own damnation they were signing.
Michael, that lying, self-righteous fuck, doesn’t waste any time in getting down to business. He snaps his fingers, and suddenly dozens of Lucifer’s angelic siblings appear.
Seraph. Uriel. Raphael. Jegudiel, and even—
“Gabriel,” Charlotte breathes.
I tip my chin toward him in greeting.
“We meet again, Charlotte.” Gabriel grins, brushing a hand down the white suit he wears and holding out a small chest to Michael.
Aside from Michael, he’s the only one on the angelic side of Lucifer’s family that Charlotte’s ever met.
But I know them.
And I’ve stood at Lucifer’s side long enough to hate them all.
Mammon—Greed—pops into existence beside us a moment later, the other Originals not far behind her. Azmodeus, Belphegor, Satan, Leviathan, and Beelzebub follow—Lust, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Gluttony, respectively.
They’re eager to see what celestial drama unfolds.
Sick fucks.
Greed’s wearing some insane getup she must have been in for the photo shoot she and Charlotte had this morning—cascades of gold, coral-like beams encaging her voluptuous body in lieu of any material. She looks like an elemental goddess.
Or humanity’s idea of one, anyway.
The real ones are far more terrifying.
“You didn’t think I was actually going to miss this, did you?” she mutters to Charlotte, before she kisses Lucifer on the cheek like Judas, once again prepared to be his loyal lieutenant.
Though the last celestial rebellion they waged together didn’t end well.
But they didn’t have me on their side back then.
Greed glances at Michael. “Mikey, you look like shit. You too, Gabriel. A millennium hasn’t done a damn thing for you.”
There’s only one of Lucifer’s siblings who may fight to destroy Michael just as fiercely as I will.
And it’s Greed.
She hates all her angelic siblings nearly as much as I do.
“Ur-i-el,” Azmodeus—that lusty little fuck—calls out, drawing out every syllable of his brother’s name and flinging out his arms like this is one big happy reunion or something.
Uriel simply glares at him.
“Well, jeez. Eat shit to you, too, then.” Azmodeus shrugs. “Fuck all of them for all I care, lovey.”
“Do I honestly even need to be here?” Envy complains. “Luce is always the center of attention anyway.”
“Oh, shut up.” Wrath.
Gluttony just crosses his arms, shaking his head like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. Lucifer massages his temples as if he’s quickly losing his patience.
But Charlotte simply gives Envy an almost motherly look, placing a reassuring hand on his arm, and somehow, he quits bitching for once this century.
“Honestly, Charlotte, do you truly expect any of these idiots are going to help you?” Michael scoffs like he knows what we’re planning as he removes one of the sealed scrolls from Gabriel’s chest.
But our strategy isn’t dependent on hiding anything.
It hinges upon Michael making the same mistakes Lucifer did.
Pride was always going to be this family’s downfall.
My ex was just the original catalyst.
Michael removes the third sealed scroll from Gabriel’s box and pops it open without a second thought.
Nothing happens.
“Clock’s ticking.” Michael grins at Charlotte as we all wait for what comes next.
Charlotte’s eyes narrow. “Which one of the seven comes first? There’s one Original for each seal, isn’t there?”
Minus Lucifer and whichever one of the others went rogue.
Only five remain.
“Well, it wouldn’t be very fun if I told you now, would it?” Michael laughs.
Just as the humans begin to gasp, pointing toward the nearby coastline.
The pressure inside my chest tightens as the water rapidly recedes.
The ocean pulls back violently, exposing the mucky brown bottom of the harbor until a massive wave starts to form in the distance.
The Statue of Liberty trembles against its weight as it passes, and we all watch in horror as the bay almost empties within seconds as if drained by some invisible force, the water pushed back, hundreds of miles out until—
It starts to fall.
The tides rushing straight for us.
An unstoppable churning mass.
Shit.
My mouth goes dry as I look toward Charlotte, hoping that Greed and I have trained her enough she’ll be able to survive and get us all through this.
Or else my job is about to get a whole fucking lot harder—and fast.
New York City is royally fucked.