Page 195 of Wicked Believer

If he wasn’t still holding a knife to Jax’s throat, I might even consider trying to save his sorry ass.

“And you shall.” Michael’s lips twist into a cruel, mirthless smile. “Enter my Father’s kingdom, that is. Now that my siblings and I are through with you.”

Suddenly Azrael appears at my side, covering my mouth with one of his large hands to stifle my scream. “Shhh, it’s only me, baby girl,” he grumbles next to my ear, causing a shiver to run through me. “Don’t tell me you didn’t anticipate that I’d find you?”

“I did actually, which is part of why I was willing to risk my own neck and come here. Iknewyou’d follow me, you freaking stalker.”

“Always.” Azrael grins at me, the skeletal side of his features flashing.

“Do you know how to work a camera?”

“Why wouldn’t I—?”

“Lucifer doesn’t even like to text, so I thought maybe you—”

“Celestial beings are not a monolith,” he hisses at me, quickly growing impatient. Daddy Death may be the stoic, silent type, but he has a furiously cold temper when I push him. Needling him during our training sessions has taught me that much.

“Okay, okay.” I throw up my hands in surrender. “Point taken. Just press this button when I’m down near Michael”—I point to it—“and then help me get Jax out of here, would you?”

Azrael’s nostrils flare. “You expect me to let you face Michael and Lilith?Withoutme?” His eyes take on a fiery blue look, like there’s no way in hell he’d consider ever doing such a thing.

“It’s not your choice,” I snap. “You don’t own me.”

He goes still, understanding exactly what that means.

I’m a free agent now.

And I won’t let this go.

“You can come right after me. Please, Azrael.”

“If Lucifer finds out about this—”

“Then don’t let him find out,” I whisper as I slip out of the sound booth.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Azrael

The last time I had to save Charlotte from herself, I understood that, despite all appearances to the contrary, she didn’t actually have a death wish.

This time, I’m not so certain.

She strips off her heels and barrels down the aisle with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. I never have figured out how humanity came up with that particular saying—what idiot fucked around and found out? Though, in truth, I’ve seen stupider deaths—but in this instance, the description is fitting.

Lucifer likes his women gutsy, I’ll give him that much.

All eyes turn toward Charlotte as she rushes down the stairs, her friend thrashing and struggling at the sight of her.

I take that as my cue and hit the recording booth button, fading into the Nothing so that I’m no longer visible. When I reform, I’ll be right where Charlotte’ll need me.

Michael and Lilith might feel me, but they sure as fuck can’t find me.

I’m a ghost, plain and simple.

That feeling you get when you think someone’s watching you, only to turn around and find there’s no one there.

The hairs on the back of Charlotte’s friend’s neck rise. Like she can feel me too.