Page 59 of Wicked Believer (Original Sinner #2)

Chapter Forty-Nine

Lucifer

“She’s going to be a complete hellion now, you know.”

I smirk appreciatively. “Why do you think I fell for her?”

I’m back in my office inside Apollyon headquarters, after a few days of rest at Charlotte and Azrael’s insistence, catching up on the latest quarterly reports and starting to navigate some of our foreseeable closures now that Pestilence has made his topside appearance.

What my Mother was thinking when she created him in case my Father’s little experiment with humanity turned sour, I’ll never begin to know.

Plague and contagion were always more my Father’s thing.

Azrael appears by the window, forming like smoke out of nothing as he stares down at the city, watching some of the passersby. “She’s getting better. Stronger.”

“Aren’t we both?”

I fall quiet for a beat as I clench and unclench my fist, desperately wishing I could reach for a goddamn cigarette.

Apparently, I have to stop smoking whenever I’m bloody topside or subject myself to the risk of lung cancer, according to both Charlotte and the private doctor we now keep on retainer.

One more awful fucking thing about being mortal.

How do any of them live like this?

My Father is a cruel, unkind deity.

“Thank you,” I mutter into the quiet. “For saving her for me.”

Azrael and I haven’t been alone with one another since Charlotte revealed her jump to me. She’s become more than a little curious about us. Our past history.

Another thing I’ll have to disclose to her eventually, I’m afraid.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Azrael says.

I still haven’t been able to get a read on what exactly is in all this for him.

Resuming his place at my side. Training and guarding Charlotte. Serving as my cover so my lack of power isn’t yet known to the more sinful among my siblings.

“Well, you have my gratitude at any rate.” I stand, buttoning my suit coat. I have a meeting with Imani and the other members of the executive board shortly.

“Did you mean what you said?” Azrael asks once I’ve nearly reached the door. “When you offered to share her?”

I freeze mid-step.

Don’t make her choose, Sammael.

The priest’s warning echoes through me.

I expected to share her body, but I didn’t expect to share ...

Her heart.

My spine runs cold, but my voice remains calm, collected. “Has she piqued your interest?”

Azrael doesn’t answer, and when I turn back, trying to get a read on what Death’s fascination with my future wife may be, he’s gone.

Leaving me wondering if I may have made a foolish error in trusting them together so completely.