Page 132 of Bellamy

The battle was over. We had lost.

But we were alive.

In that moment, that’s all that mattered.

***

“Lucifer’s powers are weak right now,” Lazarus said, perched beside the window in the kitchen. One of his arms was in a sling—much to his dissatisfaction, but Clara had insisted. A bandage was wrapped around his side too. The deep cut on his face would probably leave a scar. “Much like Asa’s had been when he first awoke.”

“Him not being at his full strength is the only reason we were able to make it out alive,” Alastair said. He took a sip of tea and briefly closed his eyes as he savored the taste. His gaze then moved to Phoenix. “Well, that… and because of you. I’m in your debt, demon.”

Phoenix averted his eyes to the tabletop, the tops of his cheeks darkening. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I won’t always stick my neck out for you, Nephilim.”

“I’m in your debt as well,” Lazarus told him. “I allowed my desire for vengeance against Lucifer to get the better of me and nearly died because of it. You provided an escape when we needed it most. I knew you’d become a valuable ally. You fought well and more than proved your loyalty.”

“I think I preferred it when all of you hated me,” Phoenix said, picking at his toast. “I don’t know how to respond to niceness.”

I grinned before slipping my arms around him from behind, face pressed to his ear. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Go away. You’re ruining my breakfast.”

I snatched a grape off his plate and ate it.

“Thief,” he said. When I started to pull away, he grabbed my bicep.

So I stayed there a bit longer, holding him. Truth was, I didn’t want to let go. “Such a needy demon.”

“Fuck you.”

It was the morning after the battle. Everyone had crashed yesterday evening after Clara bandaged them up and fed them. Most of the warriors were still asleep. Raiden included, which was unexpected. Normally, his gluttonous ass was up with the sun and ready to eat.

“Good morning,” Penemuel said as he entered the kitchen. Clara had removed his warded bracelet once we returned from battle, and he hadn’t tried to leave yet. Guess he really could be trusted.

“What’s good about it?” Lazarus asked. “I’m trapped in a house with all of you because my wing’s not healed enough to fly. Lucifer is free. Thousands of years of protecting this realm, and it could all be for nothing.”

“But there’s coffee.” Penemuel filled a mug and took a drink. “And you’re still breathing after facing the Morningstar in battle. I’d say that warrants a good morning. Don’t you agree?”

Lazarus turned back to the window, ignoring him.

At least they weren’t trying to kill each other.

“When will Lucifer regain his strength?” Alastair set his cup on the counter and winced a bit as he touched his shoulder. Clara’s healing magic had helped seal the wound, but Light Bringer wasn’t like a normal celestial blade. With it being a soul weapon, that shit would take longer to properly heal. “How long do we have?”

“I suspect he’ll reside in the underworld for now,” Lazarus answered. “The demons will welcome their new king, and he’ll take control of the army. He’ll need a month, perhaps longer, to fully rebuild his strength after the years of solitude and inability to access his powers.”

One month. Not long, but it was better than nothing.

“There will probably be rebellions too,” Phoenix said. “Many of the demons practically worshipped Asa. Sure, Lucifer is more powerful, but I doubt they will accept him so easily. Especially the younger ones who weren’t around when Lucifer ruled the first time.”

“That will work in our favor, then.” Lazarus nodded. “Buy us more time.”

“I’ll speak to Baxter and Sirena once they wake,” Alastair said. “We’ll need to strategize how best to organize our armies now that war has escalated. I’ll also visit Konnar this evening and fill him in.”

Lazarus peered at Alastair, and for the briefest of moments, I sensed… something. It was gone too quickly for me to figure it out.

A loud yawn came from behind me as Raiden walked into the kitchen, his black hair messy and eyes glassy from sleep. “Y’all want pancakes?”

“Waffles!” Gray rushed in next, tugging a very tired Mason along with him. “With bananas and peanut butter.”