“Agreed.” The kiss he gave me then was longer, deeper, and when it was over, I wished we had more time. “We need to get out there and find Lucifer.”
“We do.” I stepped out of his embrace. “At least we don’t have to go to a drugstore.”
“We still need to get you new sunglasses,” he reminded me as we left the kitchen.
Since the living room was dark, Zayne had worked his way so he was only a step ahead of me, leading a path around the furniture. God, I had missed that. I reached out, curling my fingers around the edge of his shirt.
Roth was waiting for us in the foyer, alone.
“Where’s Layla?” Zayne asked.
“Chasing down Robin. He thinks it’s playtime so he ran upstairs.”
I stepped around Zayne. “Where’s your nope rope?”
“Nope rope?” Roth chuckled. “My danger noodle is on my arm. She’s not as ill-behaved as Robin. It’ll take her a minute to catch him, so I figured you guys can go ahead and head out. If you guys want Dupont Circle, we’ll check H Street.”
“Sounds good to me,” Zayne said as we started for the door.
I was thinking it was going to be a long night as we stepped out into the muggy July night air.
“By the way,” Roth started.
Zayne turned back to him. “I really hope you’re not bringing up what you heard Grim talking to us about.”
“Nope. Knowledge that you two aren’t going to be parents isn’t any of my business,” Roth said, and I frowned. “There’s just something I need to say.”
“Can’t wait to hear this,” Zayne replied.
“I know you can kick my ass up and down the city now.” Roth leaned against the threshold of the door. “You’re a Fallen with grace. I’m demon enough to recognize when I’m outgunned, but if you go toe to toe with Lucifer, you will lose.”
“And knowing you wouldn’t win against me, that wouldn’t stop you from coming at me if you thought Layla was threatened,” Zayne replied. “Right?”
“Not for one damn second.”
“Then you understand why knowing I’m likely to die won’t stop me,” he stated, and I rolled my eyes. “But it warms my heart to know that you care.”
Roth smirked. “Whatever, Stony.”
“You missed me.” Zayne grinned. “Admit it.”
The grin on Roth’s face was brief. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. If you find Lucifer first, don’t push him. He’s impulsive and has a tendency of destroying things before he thinks his actions through. He’d happily cut off his own nose to spite his face. If you irritate him, he’ll kill you. He’ll kill both of you.”
28
Searching for Lucifer was like a game of Clue, if the game of Clue included things like attractive, half-naked Satan found with a shot of vodka in the bathroom of a shady-as-Hell club.
Zayne and I had hoofed it through most of Dupont Circle, stopping at every bar and club we came across, and God only knew why there were so many bars.
Strangely, no one asked for our IDs. I had a feeling that was Zayne’s doing. Again and again, a bouncer or waiter would say that our description sounded familiar, reporting that a man who looked a lot like who we were looking for did come in, shirtless. This was often told to us right next to the no-shoes, no-shirt policy on a window or door. Then they’d direct us to a bartender who would swear that a man matching our description had come in and ordered top-shelf vodka, watched the crowd like a total creeper and then asked for recommendations on other bars he should check out. The first club we’d stopped at seemed more like an exotic dance club to me, since there’d been a whole lot of half-naked people on the dance floor, but then, I didn’t think there were unisex exotic clubs. By the third establishment that would’ve fit right in with Sodom and Gomorrah, we quickly began to realize that wherever Lucifer went, his presence was felt, leaving behind an aura of temptation that thickened the air with sin.
This happened over and over. I stopped counting at ten.
“Do you think he’s just going to get superdrunk and pass out somewhere?” I’d asked. “Because how many shots of vodka can he take?”
“Demons don’t respond the same way to alcohol as humans do. I imagine angels are the same way,” he’d told me, being all smart and stuff.
Hours later, I’d seen a whole lot of people engaging in various degrees of public intoxication, more skin and body parts than I ever needed to see in my entire life and some really brutal hangovers in the making.
But we didn’t find Lucifer.
Neither did Layla or Roth. Cayman had also sacrificed his “me time” and joined the search, but he, too, was coming up empty-handed. Apparently Lucifer was picky, and I could appreciate the fact that he had standards and all, but I was tired and I was hungry. Like bordering on hangry kind of hungry.
So that was how we ended up on the roof of a nearby building. I sat on the edge, my feet dangling off into nothing as I happily munched away on a cheeseburger and fries. Zayne had gotten a grilled chicken sandwich—ew—of which he immediately disposed of the bun and just ate the chicken breast before we even reached our hidey-hole on the roof.
“Is there a reason you feel the need to eat on the actual edge of a roof?” Zayne asked as he hopped up on the ledge.
I popped a fry into my mouth. “A bird’s-eye view of the city.”
He knelt beside me, wings hidden away. “And what do you see of the city from up here?”
I squinted as I picked up my drink. “Numerous...identifiable blobs.” I took a drink as I looked over at him. Moonlight shone across his face. He’d pulled his hair back in a smooth knot earlier. “But I bet you see everything perfectly.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “I’m thinking you wanted to come up here just so I can live on the verge of a heart attack every time you move around.”
I smirked. “Maybe. Want a fry?”
“No.”
“Come on. It’s just a thinly sliced carb stick.”
“No, thank you.”
I offered the fry, anyway, squinting as I aimed for his mouth. “It’s tasty, salty goodness.” I poked the corner of his lip. “It wants to be eaten by you.”
“I doubt that fry is the only thing that wants to be eaten by me.”
My face flushed hot. “What a naughty thing to suggest.”
“Uh-huh.” Zayne caught my wrist, turning his head just the slightest. He took the fry, chewing slowly. “Happy?”
I nodded.
His eyes met mine, a vibrant blue luminous in the moonlight as his tongue flicked over the tips of my fingers, sweeping away the crystals of salt. “Tasty.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, stomach tightening deliciously low.
He kissed the pad of my finger, those burning eyes still holding mine. “I love you, Trinity.”
There was a catch in my breath and in my chest. I could never grow tired of hearing him say that. Ever. Each time he said it, it was like hearing it for the first time, as was the realization of how utterly wondrous it was to feel that deep and to know that kind of love was returned. And I knew I would do anything to protect that.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He tipped his head back, and I thought I saw a smile as he stared up at the sky. I followed his gaze as I chowed down on a handful of fries. All I saw was the glare of the moon and different shades of black.
“Are the stars out?” I asked, hoping that he would say no, but sort of already knowing what the answer would be.
“There’s a few of them. They’re bright.” Lowering his chin, he looked over at me. “You don’t see any of them?”
Shaking my head, I shoveled the remaining fries into my mouth.
“Have you seen them since that night?” Zayne fished a napkin out of the fast-food bag as I finished off the fries. “Switch?”
&n
bsp; “Thank you.” I handed over the empty carton and took the napkin. “No. I haven’t.”
He was quiet for a moment and then took the balled napkin from me. “How’s your vision otherwise?”
“Pretty much the same, I guess.” Clasping the edge of the warm stone, I swung my feet. “I mean, I don’t ever notice exactly when my vision worsens. It’s usually so slow you can’t really pinpoint the change.”
“But it was getting harder to see the stars before then?”
“It was.” I stared down. Other than the streetlamps and the headlights of passing cars, there was nothing but a void of darkness. “It was strange, though—how I saw all the stars so perfectly clearly. If it was real, it makes me wonder if... I don’t know, like if my father had something to do with that?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt foolish, so I slurped half of my drink. “I know that sounds stupid—”
“No, it doesn’t.” He touched my arm first and then my cheek. “I think it’s possible. Your father knows about your vision. Like I said before, I think your father finds ways to show that he cares—ways that aren’t always obvious.”
I smiled faintly, lowering my drink. “It felt like a...like a gift.”
“It sounds like it was.” His thumb swept over the curve of my jaw. “I wish you could see them now.”
“So do I.” I looked over at him. “But I have the Constellation of Zayne.”
He smiled, and it amazed me how clear his features were now despite the lack of lighting and my eyes. Granted, someone with functional eyeballs could probably see him even better, but normally, his face would’ve just been an unfocused blur to me.
“We should get going,” he said. “We need—”
I knew he felt the presence of demons at the same moment I felt the pressure on the nape of my neck. I sat my drink on the ledge. “You see them?”
“Looking.” He took ahold of my hand, helping me stand as he turned to look over his shoulder. “Incoming.”
I pivoted on the ledge, squinting. Several man-shaped blurs passed under the moonlight, their skin a shiny onyx. There were four pairs of deep red eyes. That’s all I needed to see to know what I was dealing with.
“Hellions,” I groaned, hopping down on the thankfully flat roof. Forbidden topside, Hellions were created by pain and misery, and somehow, Gabriel had swayed way too many of them to his cause. “Let me guess, they’re naked.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Why are they always naked?” I asked, summoning my grace. With the lack of light, I wasn’t going to mess around with the daggers. The corners of my vision brightened as white light powered down my arm. My fingers curled around the handle as the sword flamed to life, cracking with fire and energy.
“Try to keep one alive,” Zayne reminded me.
I nodded as the faint glow of Zayne’s skin pulsed. Static charged the air. The back of his shirt ripped as his wings tore free.
“You should check out the shirt the Warden Jordan was wearing,” I told him. “He’d cut two slits in the back for his wings. You’d go through less shirts if you do that.”
He shrugged the ruined shirt aside. “But then you wouldn’t get to see me shirtless.”
I grinned. “Good point.”
“Just looking out for you,” he replied as golden fire spiraled down both his arms, forming those wicked sickle blades.
If any of the Hellions hesitated at the sight of Zayne going full Fallen, I couldn’t tell. They rushed us, and that was when I realized there were more than four.
I’d never seen so many in one place. Good God, there had to be a dozen.
Zayne shot forward, slicing one blade through the chest of a Hellion as his wings lifted him in the air. He landed behind it as it burst into flames, his blades sweeping in a wide arc around him.
The Hellion in front of me disappeared. Cursing, I spun around and jabbed the flaming sword through its belly as it appeared behind me. It roared as I danced back, spinning. “Do you guys really not have clothing in Hell?”
“Would you like to find out?” one of the Hellions snarled, darting to my left and shooting forward, trying to come into my field of restricted vision.
Someone had been talking.
Oh Hell to the no, we were not going to play that game.
Growling under my breath, I shot back into the moonlight, lowering the sword. I stilled, centering myself just as Zayne had taught me. The Hellion’s rasping chuckle came from my right. I heard his steps, and I turned sharply. The Sword of Michael caught the Hellion in the chest.
“Nice try,” I muttered as the Hellion burst into flames. The stench of sulfur filled the rooftop.
“The Harbinger will reward me well.” Hot, fetid breath touched my cheek.
My heart stuttered as I tensed to jump back. A flash of white filled my vision. Zayne came down in front of me, his fiery sickle blade cleaving through the neck of a Hellion.
“Why are you so fascinated by their lack of clothing?” Zayne asked.
Exhaling roughly, I turned. “I’m not fascinated per se.” I lurched forward, thrusting my sword into the midsection of another Hellion. “I’m just curious to why they are always freaking naked.”
“Just don’t think about it.” Zayne’s wings stirred the loose hairs by my face as he moved with dizzying speeds.
“Don’t think about it?” I dipped under the arm of a Hellion, mindful of its stupid mouth. Their bite was venomous, killing a human within seconds and paralyzing a Warden for days. I had no idea what their bite would do to anyone with angelic blood in them. I didn’t plan to find out. “That’s hard to do when they’re naked.”
“Can you see anything traumatizing, Trin?” Zayne asked.
Feinting to my right, I turned to my left. “No, but I know their junk is out.” I aimed for said junk. The howl of pain and then ripple of flames told me I’d hit my target. “That is all I need to know.”
A Hellion rushed out into the stream of moonlight, and I groaned. “Now I can see it—I can see all of it.”
“I really wish you would stop pointing it out.” Zayne landed a few feet from me, slicing through the air with both sickle blades. He took down two Hellions.
I frowned. “I want two swords.”
Zayne laughed as he rose. “You can’t always get what you want.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes as a Hellion raced toward me. “This is the last one?”
“It is.” Zayne’s wings were like two glowing white beacons.
I darted to the left, holding my sword out. The Hellion skidded to a stop. He started to turn, but saw Zayne behind him. The Hellion sunk down onto its haunches, letting out a rumbling growl.
“I wouldn’t try it,” Zayne warned, his sickle blades sparking golden white embers.
“It’s your lucky day,” I said, holding the Sword of Michael with both hands. “You get to live. That is, if you’re smart, and I hope you’re smart. We have a message we want you to deliver to Gabriel.”
Red eyes snapped to mine. A moment passed and then the Hellion grunted out a thick, garbled laugh.
I arched a brow as Zayne muttered, “I don’t think this one is smart.”
“Smarter than you two,” the Hellion snarled.
Claws scraped over stone as a wall of dark, bulky shapes poured over the ledge of the roof. There was a glimpse of moonstone-colored skin and tusklike horns.
“Uh,” I said. “There is like a horde of Nightcrawlers on the roof.”
“How many is a horde?” Zayne asked.
“Um...” I swallowed as I scanned the line that stretched the entire length of the roof. There had to be...dozens. “A metric crap ton, to be exact.”
The Hellion laughed again.
“Shut up.” Zayne struck down the Hellion and then turned, checking out the newcomers. “I have a feeling Gabriel
has learned of my upgrade.”
“You think?” I scanned the line of Nightcrawlers as my heart started thumping. None of them were on leashes this time—not like that would’ve made much difference. I liked to think both Zayne and I were badasses, but that was a whole lot of Nightcrawler.
“Kill the Fallen,” one of the Nightcrawlers said. “The nephilim must be alive.”
I sighed as I lifted my sword. “I’m so tired of pointing out that Trueborn is a more appropriate term.”
“That’s kind of sad.” Zayne’s wings rose, grace pulsing and throbbing throughout them. “I like those lectures.”
I didn’t get a chance to response. The Nightcrawlers swarmed forward, the rooftop trembling under their weight. Maybe we’d get lucky and the roof would collapse. I pulled on the grace, preparing for the possibility that we may need to cut our losses and run.
There was a sudden sound of whooshing air. A bright orangey-red burst of light shattered the moonlight-drenched rooftop. My eyes widened as flames spilled over the ledge, licking across the concrete. The fire swept forward so fast, so unexpectedly, that I didn’t even move as it swallowed the Nightcrawlers. I was frozen as their screams echoed all around us.
Zayne’s sickle blades collapsed as he whirled, snagging an arm around my waist. My sword flared intensely and then shattered into a shower of golden embers. Power coiled in Zayne as he prepared to take flight. Heat scorched my cheeks and then the wave of fire retracted, rolling backward.
“What the—?” I squinted as a shape took form in the center of the flames. A man stepped through the fire, his wavy golden hair and bare chest untouched. The fire evaporated as the man continued forward, his feet stirring the dust of the fallen Nightcrawlers.
Holy crap.
I knew my mouth was hanging open. I didn’t care. That kind of power was unimaginable.
“No need to thank me,” he drawled. “I couldn’t let any harm come to my new friends.”
“Lucifer.” Zayne’s arm around me didn’t slacken. “We’ve been looking for you.”
Stepping into the moonlight, the devil smiled. “I know.”
* * *
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