Chapter Ten - Lucifer #2
“She hums when she’s nervous,” I went on.
“Doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. Little fragments of songs she half-remembers.
Drives me insane.” A breath slipped out of me, almost a laugh, almost not.
“She stands like she’s bracing for impact, even when nothing’s coming.
Like the world taught her never to relax. ”
Smoke curled from my mouth, pale and temporary.
“She chose me,” I said, the words quieter now, heavier. “Not because I asked. Not because I deserved it. Just… because she did.”
The city flickered below, indifferent and alive.
“And I don’t know where she is,” I finished. “Or what He’s doing to her. And now… Now I can’t reach her.”
“I’ve had worship,” I said, quieter now. “Devotion. Fear dressed up as love. I’ve had entire civilizations kneel and call it meaning.”
“She’s the only one who ever chose me without wanting something in return.”
Then I lifted my eyes to Az, like I needed a witness to the truth before I could survive saying it out loud. “She said she loved me,” I said. “And I didn’t say it back,” I went on, the confession cutting deeper than I expected. “I didn’t think I could.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, heat flaring behind my eyes.
Az stayed where he was, solid and unmoving at my side. He didn’t tell me it would be okay. He didn’t tell me to breathe. He just stayed and listened. And for now, that was enough to keep me standing.
His wings unfurled, and they shifted, just slightly, a quiet rustle of feathers against air. He turned and leaned forward on the railing, staring down below.
“He told us we were made to worship,” Az said quietly, not quoting Him so much as pressing a finger into an old bruise. “Made to obey. Made to serve a will that wasn’t our own.”
He didn’t look at me when he said it. His gaze drifted out over the Strip’s glow and the dark band of desert beyond, like he could see the old world layered over this one, clouds and void and war stitched into the sky.
I watched him a beat, something fierce and fragile twisting in my chest, then I forced the words out anyway, into the space between us.
“It’s bullshit,” I said, the words breaking free before I could temper them. “Because I—I love her. I know I do.”
I let the confession sit there between us, then kept going, because once the dam cracked, the river didn’t ask permission.
“It’s not a thought,” I said, voice rougher now.
“It’s nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s a gravity.
It’s her name lodged behind my ribs like a star that refuses to die.
It’s the way the world feels misaligned without her in it, like everything is tilted toward the place she’s missing.
I’ve been called the Devil for thousands of years, Az, but this,” I tapped my chest, “this is the first holy thing that’s ever touched me and not burned. ”
I fell silent again, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the horizon like I could burn a hole straight through it.
Az barked a laugh, sharp and helpless. “Shut the fuck up,” he said, grinning despite himself. “You’re going to make me sick.”
He shook his head, still laughing under his breath, wings twitching like he didn’t know what to do with the sound.
Then his smile faded into something steadier, and he studied me for a long moment, not judging or questioning. Then he straightened, his resolve sliding into place like armor he’d been waiting for an excuse to wear.
“You’re going to get your star back,” he said simply.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“We’ll burn whatever needs burning,” he continued, voice low and steady. “Break whatever rules He thinks He has on us. His reign will end.”
His gaze locked with mine, unwavering. “And whatever this costs,” he finished, “we’ll carve it out of Him.”
Before I could reply, I heard the faint chime of my private elevator. Through the window, I could see the doors slide open, and Topher walked in like a man already halfway into a problem, Destiny right beside him, fury and purpose barely contained.
As soon as they made their way to the terrace, she looked at me and didn’t bother with greetings. “When do we go?” Destiny said, not a question.
Topher’s gaze flicked to Az first, quick and assessing, then settled on me. He didn’t rush the look. He didn’t speak right away. He just watched me like he was counting breaths I was pretending not to take.
“Got here as soon as we could,” he said finally.
I turned fully from the railing, the city’s glow still burned into my vision, smoke clinging to my clothes like evidence. I kept my shoulders loose. My face stayed neutral. My pulse caged.
“Soon,” I said, already moving past him toward the interior. “We already found the first one.”
Topher didn’t move out of my way right away. His eyes stayed on me, sharp now, something unsettled working behind them. Not suspicion, but recognition.
“Right,” Topher said slowly.
He let me pass, but his gaze followed, thoughtful, quiet, filing it away as I shut the outside door. I didn’t look back.
If he’d asked, if he’d said my name like a question, I might’ve snapped. Or cracked. Or done something unforgivable to the nearest wall. Instead, I kept walking.
I walked straight past the living room, past the glass and the lights and the kitchen, and into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me with controlled precision.
Only when the lock clicked did I let my breath hitch. I crossed the room once. Then again. Hands in my hair. The silence pressed in, heavier here. There were no witnesses to my unraveling. Just that same dead hollow where she should’ve been, stretching wider with every step.
I was wearing a hole in the carpet when it answered. A tremor down the tether, faint but frantic, like fingertips brushing along the length of it, feeling for an end in the dark.
Evie.
It wasn’t pain this time. Or His violation. It was pure… panic. I stilled mid-step, every sense turning toward the bond as it quivered again, a blind, desperate pull that wasn’t trying to take, only to find.
“She’s looking for me,” I breathed.
Someone knocked on my door, but it blurred into nothing.
I opened myself to her without hesitation. I didn’t push or pull. I just let her find me.
The next pulse hit like an impact instead of an absence, her touch slamming into my chest, relief and terror braided so tight they burned deep. The bond flared bright between us, alive and unbroken, a struck match in endless dark.
My skin flushed gold around me as I answered instantly with everything I had back through it in a single, steady beat.
Here. I’m here.
Not words or images. Just… feeling and presence.
I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re mine.
The line thrummed, tension easing instead of snapping, her fear turning into something that still hurt but no longer felt like falling.
A pulse of relief. Of missing me. Of loving me so fiercely it hurt.
It flooded back up the tether, warm and sharp and chemical, endorphins and need and relief all tangled together, like she was holding onto me just as desperately wherever she was.
My knees nearly gave under the force of it. I braced a hand against the wall as my breath shook loose from my lungs, and the connection steadied, strong as a heartbeat and as it had ever been.
I closed my eyes, just for a second, my breath shuddering as it hit. Whatever He’d tried to unmake, it held, and something dangerous flickered in my mind. Was His grip on her slipping?