Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
When I said I wanted to date an equal, I didn’t mean swallow the Devil and call it relationship counseling.
Tethered by my mate, I fought my demons and won—at least for now. Tomorrow might bring a new wave of horror as I processed everything I’d endured at the hands of a woman I once loved. It was a deep betrayal, and as such, would take time for hate to set in and take root.
Eloise had proved everyone was expendable in her mission to rule the world. Family, loyal employees, supernaturals, and humans alike. If they were in her way, if they dared to challenge her belief that she was the only one strong enough to lead us into a new era, then they were her enemy.
“Do you need anything?” Lucifer asked as he leaned against the kitchen island in my apartment. Dayna had made a hasty escape after her kissing incident with both Sebastian and Lucifer, probably to wash her mouth out and seek spiritual guidance from Aunt Stella.
I shook my head and swallowed the last drops of apple juice. Sugar helped everything.
Hudson frowned as he sat back on his haunches, his hands on my knees. “You good?”
I handed him my empty glass and rolled my shoulders, trying to shake off the chill that had settled into my bones that still held the cracks of my torture. I could sense them, each hairline a memory that told the story of violence.
“I’m fine.” My gaze slid to the devil. “What I’m unsure about is why you are here?”
“Could it be to arrange a secret meeting with the super-secret supernatural club that I absolutely know nothing about?” Hudson snarked.
Lucifer raised a brow. “You told him.”
“You were warned.”
My uncle rolled his eyes. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Great, the devil was making a house call for a different reason other than me being some kind of mystical Eve reincarnation.
“Explain,” I snapped. “I have no patience for veiled threats and words.”
“Actually, it’s your mate I need.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not an explanation.”
Hudson rose to his feet, a guarded expression shrouding his face as he tried to lock down whatever silent communication was occurring between him and my uncle.
“Ready?” Lucifer asked Hudson, ignoring me completely.
“Not without me. I’m still not sure what the ramifications of his ingesting your essence are.”
“Then come see for yourself, niece.” Lucifer snapped his fingers. The world twisted in a strange spiral and sucked us inside a tight tube before spitting us out into a dark and chilly night.
I spun in a circle, my hands swiping down my torso and jeans, and I was relieved to find my clothing made it intact. Teleportation was disconcerting.
“Where are we?” I wondered, squinting at our surroundings.
“New Orleans,” Lucifer muttered.
In a cemetery. How cliché. “What—” A shadow shot toward us, knocking me back a step as it ricocheted off my shoulder. Okay, that was new.
“Condemned souls,” Lucifer explained through gritted teeth. “Eloise has breached my protection, and they are escaping.”
“Remnants?” I asked as more shadows darted in and out of the large gravestones.
“No, these are tortured souls, spirits that should be suffering an eternity in Hell.”
Two more rushed us.
“Let me free,” Indigo purred. “This is what I was made for.”
I’m the daughter of death, so that figures. But it wasn’t me that Lucifer had come for; it was my mate. My wings exploded outward, and the power I kept locked down ran like fire through my veins.
“Don’t let them touch you. They’ll leech on your power,” Lucifer advised.
I spared him a glance when his wings erupted into view. Seeing an archangel in his full form, even a fallen one, was a breathtaking sight.
Hudson growled as he stepped in front of me, protecting me from the souls that sensed my power and wanted it for themselves. Too bad, suckers, I’m not giving this up for anyone.
“How do we send them back?” I asked.
Lucifer shook his head. “You can’t. Your power is connected to Heaven, not Hell. If you try, you’ll flood the promised land with evil. Best leave it to us, niece. Just stay out of our way, and touch nothing.”
I took a step back, then another, assessing the situation without making it worse. Why the hell was Hudson the right person for the job?
A swarm of shadows pooled together, building their terrifying, wicked force into an impressive foe.
“Ready?” Lucifer asked Hudson. “Just like we practiced.”
Practiced what? And when? I glanced at the stars twinkling in the sky. Was my grandfather up there watching this unfold with a bowl of popcorn, or was he sunning himself somewhere with a cocktail?
Hudson’s arm stretched to the side, and a long staff emerged in his hand. He gripped it, and the weapon shimmered as the sharp blade sliced through the air, hitting the first shadow.
A scythe. Holy mother of god. My mate was a freaking reaper.
An actual reaper of souls—specifically the condemned ones meant for the fiery pits of Hell.
I wanted to murder him and kiss him at the same time.
No need for dramatics, though. Being a reaper for the devil likely came with a great benefits package, including being invincible to dangerous things like being stabbed by their frustrated mate. What was he thinking?
He moved through the cemetery with grace and speed, and now I was angry and turned on.
How confusing. This was going to involve a very long and murderous chat later—before my next date with a mysterious god and after a meeting with the Serpents where I expressed my what the fuckness to the group at large.
I dropped my ass on the wall of a tomb and side-eyed the inscription.
“Why would my mate do something so ridiculous?” I asked Julia Pearson, devoted mother to Maureen and Herbert and loving wife to Kenneth for over forty years.
She didn’t answer. That was fair. Hopefully, her afterlife was treating her well, and she wasn’t going to get embroiled in this mess.
“Forty years. Phew. That’s a lifetime of arguments and fuck-ups. How did you survive it?”
Julia still didn’t answer. Right, everyone was all about self-reflection these days.
I turned that focus to the battle before me, watching the ever-increasing fear and chaos Eloise was creating, to drive the need for someone to swoop in and save humanity.
She was waiting for the tipping point when leaders around the world would give her their left testicles to stop the supernatural disaster.
Hell was an easier target than Heaven. It had one archangel protecting it, while heaven had multiple.
I tilted my head at my uncle. Clearly, God thought him strong enough to manage it alone, which meant he was powerful—more so than the rest of them.
But it was also a burden he carried alone.
The more I considered his position, the more I understood the trust God had placed in Lucifer.
But did he recognize it, or was he bitter that when he went to sleep at night, it was to a view of fire and brimstone instead of what Heaven offered?
“What do you think, Julia? Does the devil get a holiday?” No answer. The dead generally kept their peace, as was their right.
Hudson moved through the cemetery with predatory grace. “What should I do about my mate and his freshly swallowed essence of my uncle?” That sounded wrong on so many levels, but it was all true. “I could withhold sex,” I mused. “But that feels like punishing myself.”
Swipe, stab, breathe, bend, flick. Hudson dispatched the swarm as if he had been born to do it. My uncle worked at his side, a formidable yet unlikely pairing of power.
What were the ramifications of this? Was it a lifetime deal, or more like an indentureship? A year on spook patrol, and then he was done? Did Lucifer own Hudson’s soul? Over my dead body would I allow my mate to waste away when he embodied everything that was good in this world.
Something shot past my ear—a screaming, furious blur that slammed through the nearest tombstone so hard it cracked. I ducked. “Hey, watch the hair.”
Hudson sliced through another soul while shooting me a deadpan look.
A condemned soul screamed and tried to attach itself to my wing. I swatted it like a mosquito. “See? I’m supervising. Very important job.”
Lucifer sighed like a father fed up with his disappointing children. “Niece, perhaps less supervising and more staying out of the damn way?”
Another soul darted toward me, a shrieking blur of misery. It passed right through my torso, leaving a cold so sharp my ribs ached. “That was rude.”
Hudson swung the scythe like a vengeful lumberjack. “A little help?”
I held my hands up. “I was told—explicitly—not to engage. Hell’s Health it was about power and the adrenaline that needed to be released after a fight. Someone needed to bring him down.
He shredded my jeans, tested to make sure I was ready, and joined our bodies. He needed a reminder that he was alive and breathing after being close to so much death, and I was the one he clung to.
Lucky me.