Page 73 of Alastair

“Belphegor was with him. They looked to be…” The warrior hesitated. “Well, enjoying the night scene. They browsed a shopping mall, then dined at Ichiran Ramen before visiting a few clubs. I lost sight of them at Shibuya Crossing.”

Baxter snorted. “The bastards were on a date.”

“A date?” Michael asked.

Baxter held up one finger. “Shopping.” A second. “Dinner.” And then a third. “Nightclubs. I guarantee they boned somewhere after leaving the crossing.”

Lazarus frowned. “We’re in the middle of a war, and they decide it’s a good time to go on a date? Doubtful. I’m sure there was another reason.”

“Maybe not,” I said. “Lucifer was that way when I knew him. Regardless of how busy he was, he sometimes dropped everything to do what he wanted.”

Like often pulling my father aside just to dance even when no music played. Their relationship had been toxic in countless ways, but in those moments, I had smiled at them and hoped I’d find someone like that too, someday. Someone to dance with. To hold close and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Michael nodded. “He did the same before his rebellion. He had a tendency to skip our training to instead lie in the fields beneath the sky. The life of a dreamer.” He focused on the tabletop. “If only those dreams hadn’t led him so astray.”

Castor and Kyo joined the meeting, both of their hair damp from swimming. Which I was certain they had done more of than actual training. My brother could be a bad influence on the water dragon.

King Tatsuya shifted in his chair, moving his long black hair over to one shoulder. A blue ribbon held half of it back—a token from Queen Yuma, his first wife. “I have a friend who owns a café near Center Gai in Shibuya. I’ll contact him to see if he knows anything.”

Castor made a face.

“What?” Tatsuya asked him. When my brother shrugged, the king’s eyes narrowed. “Speak your mind, Nephilim.”

“I’m just shocked you have friends,” Castor said.

I pinched the bridge of my nose but was too mentally drained to chastise him for being so uncouth. To Tatsuya, I said, “Let me know what your friend says.”

The water dragon king nodded to me. “Will do.”

***

The bold richness of Earl Grey tea never failed to soothe me when I’d had a rather long and tiring day. My self-care involved a cup while sitting someplace comfortable—this time in bed—and enjoying the sweet escape of a novel. Mysteries were among my favorites, though I often predicted the outcome before it was revealed on page.

That only added to the appeal for me. Solving the mystery before the protagonist of the story had become a sort of game. A fun challenge. But even when I reread my favorite books, that predictable conclusion comforted me.

There was solace in knowing how it would all end.

If only the same was true for real life. My unease concerning the war only built. That knot of worry in my gut twisted more and more with each passing day. How would everything end? Would it be like Raiden said so many years ago, and the eight of us were destined to become tragic heroes with fateful ends?

With a sigh, I saved my place in the book on my e-reader and set it on the bedside table. I missed my books, the hardback editions I had collected over the centuries that had burned with our mansion. Perhaps a silly thing to miss when the world was on the verge of imploding.

Other things had burned as well. The photographs of my past loves. The violin Joseph had bought for me when he’d still been young and healthy. He had enjoyed listening to me play in the evenings, the fireplace crackling beside us as the bow slid across the strings.

“What do you think about when you play?”he had asked me once.

“Nothing. That’s the beauty of it. I focus on the notes and let everything else fall away.”

If only everything would fall away right then. Worries plagued me. Made me feel sick. We hadn’t made much progress at the meeting. Sirena wanted to send a force to Tokyo to search for Lucifer, while Michael disagreed, saying that even if theydidfind Lucifer, they wouldn’t be able to harm him.

The one positive? Penemuel’s plan had worked. The fear-stricken news stories had all but stopped. Humans continued to post videos of zombies and any other monster they came across—since people in general couldn’t even eat a cheeseburger without taking a picture of it first—but the panic was gone. It was more of a “Hey, look at this!” post as opposed to an “It’s the end of days and we’re all going to die” one.

A light thud on the balcony pulled me from my head. I slid out of bed and approached the glass door before pushing it open. Snow-white wings stood out in the dark night, gold flecked in the feathers—just like it did in the pair of blue eyes currently pinned to me.

“Did I wake you?” Lazarus asked, glancing at my T-shirt and cotton night pants.

“No. I was reading.” A sudden awkwardness came over me as his gaze trailed my body again. “They’re called pj’s, Lazarus.”

“I’m aware.” He drew his wings closer to his body but didn’t tuck them away completely.