Page 144 of Lustling

He laughs. The bastard actually laughs as he walks through the fire, the edges of his coat smoldering. “You still think you can match me? You’re not even close.”

I roar and launch again, both hands igniting. My fire strikes his chest—hard enough to scorch, hard enough tohurt—but he’s faster. His shadows coil around my throat, dragging me down, slamming me back against the wall. His strength is absolute, crushing, suffocating. My fire sputters under his grip.

“If I wanted her dead, Raziel,” he growls, voice in my ear like thunder, “she would beash. But she isn’t. She’s alive. Living among the mortal world.”

The words freeze me harder than his hold.

He sees it. Smirks. Then hurls me to the ground as if I weigh nothing. I stagger up, chest heaving, rage and disbelief choking me.

“Go on,” he says softly, deadly calm now. “Find her. See for yourself. But hear me, boy—” His voice drops to a snarl, teeth bared. “Do not come back to Hell. Not ever again.”

And then he’s gone.

The silence burns louder than the fight. My hands tremble with fire I can’t contain. For the first time in centuries, I don’t know if I’m furious—or afraid.