Chapter Sixty-Six Lucifer
Chapter Sixty-Six
Lucifer
Contrary to popular belief, I fucking hate parties, even when I am the center of everyone’s attention.
I sit at the edge of the bar, nursing my final drink in between entertaining guests before the ceremony, but the smoke and peat flavor I normally relish does little for me. I am a lit match in a gas tank.
The promise of what’s to come hangs heavy in the air.
My last pleasure will be their pain.
I throw back what remains of my glass, prepared to summon Azrael, my best man, so we can get this show on the road, but then I feel a familiar presence slink up behind me.
Michael.
I face him.
“I should’ve expected the vultures would start to circle before I even took my vows.” I lift my empty glass to him before abandoning it.
Michael huffs, signaling for the bartender. “I’m not here to scavenge, Lucy. I just came to see the groom before he damns himself a little further.” He grins at me before he orders a bourbon and water. “You are my brother after all.”
“Can’t take it straight?” I nod after the bartender.
Michael chuckles. “Some of us have no desire to get drunk on our own delusions.”
“Funny. You’ve been high on your own virtue since I fell. How’s that working out for you? Does Father know you exist yet?”
Michael’s grip on his glass tightens incrementally, and he sets it down, the veins in his neck straining. “I look forward to stabbing the Holy Lance into that beautiful bride of yours while you watch.”
If only he realized that doing so will be the bitter end of this little apocalypse he’s waging. I will feast on his entrails before I allow him to destroy Charlotte. If I cannot have her, no one can.
I smirk. “Don’t act like that wasn’t always your plan.
You’ve been sharpening that flaming sword of yours since long before the invitations went out.
” I lean onto the bar top beside him, my voice dropping low.
“Tell the Hosts to bring everything they have. I want the sky to bleed before the cake’s even cut. ”
Michael’s jaw tenses, his face mottled with his fury as I turn away from him.
But he won’t let me have the last word that easily.
“Play with me?” He nods toward the nearby grand piano. “For old times’ sake?”
My nostrils flare, but I nod, capitulating.
The guests will fucking eat it up.
I sit down on the bench first, claiming the high keys so I can control the melody, even if he sets the pace.
Michael drops down onto the bench next to me, purposefully nudging my shoulder with one of his wings. I pluck the nearest feather, causing him to startle before I begin playing.
My fingers move deftly across the keys, setting the tone as Michael claims the bass.
“You always played too fast. No patience for the sad parts,” I mutter through clenched teeth, smiling as the cameras begin to flash.
He huffs. “You always dragged them out like you were trying to make the notes bleed.”
I smirk, adding an unexpected flare, and the cameras flash wildly.
They’re here for me and Charlotte.
Not him.
He’ll always be second best. Even when I’m dying.
For once, I feel an unexpected bit of pity for him.
Michael lets out a shallow sigh, the bitterness in his expression fading as the song goes on. “Do you remember when Father made the stars, and you tried to rearrange them into your own constellations?”
“‘Tried’?” I scoff. “Mine were better. People still name their gods after them.”
Michael huffs, his lip twitching. “You always needed to leave your mark. Even on perfection.”
“And you always needed everything to stay exactly the way He made it. Even when it didn’t work.
” I reach across him, knocking his hands out of the way and claiming the lower octave for myself.
“A word of advice, brother. If you want Father’s attention so badly, perhaps you should do something unexpected for once. ”
Abruptly, I end the song on a cheeky, flourished note.
The crowd of guests clap, and I stand, giving a jaunty little bow as I prepare to leave. But Michael is far from finished yet.
“Gabriel says he saw Azrael yesterday.”
My shoulders tighten, the possibility of what that could mean not lost on me, but I keep smiling for the cameras. “Must’ve been a short visit. He’s been afraid of him since Babylon.”
“He says he saw Azrael with Mother.”
My spine runs cold. “You’re lying.”
“You hope I am.”
“Spare me the cryptic buildup. I’m not in the mood.” I glance over at him. “What did she say?”
Michael shrugs. “I wasn’t there. I was too busy being uninteresting.” He stands, casting me a deadpan look. “But let’s just say Gabriel said they weren’t arguing. They were far too busy enjoying one another, if you know what I mean.” He laughs.
The burning sensation in my chest doesn’t shock me.
But the jealousy does.
Though I no longer have any claim on Death.
“Of course,” I mutter, my expression betraying nothing. “She always preferred him. All spine and silence. Just her type.”
I button my tux coat, moving to step away.
“I heard she might come today. She’s angry you didn’t invite her yourself.”
I pause. “You’re joking.”
“Do I look like the funny one?” Michael quirks a brow. “Maybe she wants to see which of her sons she’s burying.”
I chuckle darkly, straightening my sleeves as I step into his space. “You think you’ll win today, but I hate to break it to you, brother—that battle you’re fighting? I’ve already won.”
Michael’s eyes narrow.
“Self-righteous or not, Father will never take a bullet for you.” I clap him on the shoulder as I pull back. “Enjoy the ceremony. The end always makes a good show.”
I take my leave, snaking my way throughout the party and shrugging off a few of the guests who try to deter me, before I duck into the Ritz’s inner courtyard.
“Azrael,” I hiss into the silence, knowing he’ll come whenever I call.
The Reaper appears on the other side of the garden a moment later, and my pulse races.
In a tux, he cuts a mean figure, all smolder and bone and ruthless grace, and it’s a bloody shame he’ll never sink into me again, but considering the gossip I just overheard from Michael . . .
“You fucked my Mother?”
The accusation is a bit more petulant than I’d hope for, really.
Like a child scolding his guardian.
“I know she’s been after you since the dawn of time, but honestly, Azrael?”
Death has the audacity to appear unashamed, and his eyes drag over me, cataloging every inch he used to own.
He rolls his shoulders, cracking his large, tattooed neck like he’s unused to wearing something that constrains him so tightly.
I hate how easily my eyes follow the motion, how familiar his body still is to me, how much I want to trace those lines with my tongue instead of my memory.
“We weren’t corporeal.”
I blink. “How do you even—” I put up a hand, stopping mid-sentence. “No, don’t answer that.”
I turn my back on him, grimacing at the thought, before I spin to face him again. I sound like my ruddy Father as I begin lecturing him. “I know you are no longer involved with me and Charlotte, but for her sake, I thought you might choose to be—”
Death chuckles at me. “You devious little bastard.”
Unexpectedly, he prowls toward me, closing the distance between us and crowding my space until I’m unwillingly forced to take a step back, so he cannot see how he—
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
Pain ignites in my jaw as I glance down. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I—”
“You don’t have to admit it, Lightbringer.
I know you. You’re so fucking jealous you can’t stand it.
” A slow smile builds over his lips. “I thought you’d go back to pretending, now that she’s yours, but all it takes is one meaningless fuck with someone else, and you can’t even hide how much you miss me, can you? ”
My mouth moistens, my breath quickening, the temperature in my body rising.
But I have always been a complete mess for him, and he knows it.
“So, this is how you choose to take your revenge over the fact that she chose me?” I sneer, my contempt obvious. “And just before my goddamn wedding day.”
I try to leave, but he catches my arm.
“I made a deal with her.”
“You what?”
“You heard me.” His grip on my arm tightens, then loosens slightly, and I shrug him off. “I made a deal to protect you and Charlotte.”
The fury that ignites in me is white hot, laced with the pain of so many times before when he didn’t choose me.
“Of course you did, because Father couldn’t possibly allow me to end this on my own terms. Jesus Christ, Azrael, what’s it going to take for you—”
“I didn’t do it on His orders,” Death growls, backing me up against an ivy-covered wall until I’m reaching for one of my blades. “I don’t know where He is any more than you do.” He shakes his head. “But now Lilith’s taken care of. Temporarily. She’s going to help you and Charlotte, so that you—”
I shake my head. He cannot possibly be serious. “You went behind my back again. Without consulting me. Without—”
“Asking permission from you?” he finishes.
“Like Charlotte?” He drops his head, chuckling like he’s disappointed in me.
“I’m not your sub, Lucifer. But that’s always what scared you the most, isn’t it?
You’ve never been able to control me, and I know you fucking hate that, but I swear everything I’ve ever done has been for you and—”
“Oh, not this ruddy nonsense again. You—”
He grabs me, shoving me against the wall, until I have no choice but to face him or give in. And I will not go down without a fight. Ever.
“Why now?” I snap, blade suddenly at his throat. “I’m about to walk down the bloody aisle, and now is when you decide to choose something different? To choose me?”
“I know you don’t trust it, but I’ve been telling you this whole time, everything I’ve ever done, everything I’ve ever been, even acting as your Father’s servant, has been for you.
” Roughly, he grips my face, his gaze raking over me appreciatively.
“I love you, you fucking bastard. Even if you can’t see it yet.
” He leans in like he means to kiss me again, but I shove him, then throw my hands in the air.
“It doesn’t fucking matter now, does it? Not when we both know I’m going to choose—”
“I don’t care that you love her more. I love her too. But what are you afraid of, Lucifer?” He steps closer, leaning into my blade, using his proximity like a weapon against me.
My balls tighten, my cock stiffens, and my mouth waters at the thought of how he—
“Nothing would make Charlotte happier than the three of us together, so what are you—”
“Because I don’t deserve it!” I shout, my voice suddenly shaking, even as my hands clench into fists. “You? The love who betrayed me?” I huff. “Perhaps. But her? The both of you?” I shake my head. “I’m not sure I could ever—”
He grabs me then, dragging me into him, and kisses me.
My blade clatters uselessly to the ground.
It’s a kiss for the ages.
The kind that’s been written about since the dawn of time.
Ferocious. Vicious. Destructive.
And it costs me everything.
For a moment, I simply melt for him, allow him to lay siege upon my mouth, savoring the way he’s brought an end to me.
Stripped me of what little pride I had left.
But then he fists his hand into the base of my hair, and I’m moaning, bloody moaning, meeting him tongue for tongue, lash for lash, like it was never going to end any differently.
When he releases me, I’m ruined, panting and breathless.
And I feel more than a little put out that I have so often done the same to Charlotte.
She’s never going to let me live this down, is she?
Azrael grips both sides of my face, nipping at my bottom lip, and the space behind my ribs hollows like I’m being starved. The pull I feel for him is one I’ve never been very good at resisting. “You’re going to be amazing at it,” he whispers, kissing my jaw.
“At what?” I pant.
He steps back, grinning. “I’ll leave it to Charlotte to tell you.”
I sigh, struggling to regain my composure. “She’s going to give us both hell, you know.”
Azrael grins, clapping me on the back. “She won’t be the only one.”
I lift a brow, but he just chuckles like he has a secret he can’t wait to tell me. I smile and clap him on the shoulder, relenting. “Let’s go get our girl, Reaper.”