Page 63 of Wicked Believer (Original Sinner #2)

Chapter Fifty-Two

Charlotte

I’m headed back to the penthouse, to mine and Lucifer’s engagement party, after my final fitting before the CFDA Awards, which is less than a week away, and the backseat of the Town Car smells like the amber-laced perfume I just sprayed.

I smile at my reflection in my phone’s camera, admiring how on point my makeup looks. The girls are front and center tonight, since I’ve managed to squeeze my boobs into a new, sexy, scaled-up version of my too-tight purity dress.

Lucifer is going to love it.

“Eat shit, Dad,” I mutter as I make a quick kiss face and take a selfie.

Tonight, I’m feeling bolder than I ever would have been a few months ago.

I caption the picture with something vague along with a few of my favorite hashtags and hit post before only the seat belt stops me from tumbling out of my seat.

The Town Car comes to a stop abruptly.

“Dagon?” I call out. “Dagon? Why are we stopping?”

From what I can see, there’s no traffic jam on the road. I try to lower the window partition and ask, but the button seems to be jammed. I roll my eyes. What else is new? Sighing, I unbuckle my seat belt and move off the bench seat to knock on the glass.

Dagon doesn’t respond to me.

What the hell?

My heart starts to race.

I fist my hand and pound the glass harder. It’s bulletproof.

Nothing.

I shout, but when that doesn’t do any good, I start to seriously panic. Adrenaline shoots through me. My iPhone and none of the car’s electronics are working.

What’s going on?

I test the handle, and thankfully it opens.

I stumble haphazardly from the car, inhaling deep breaths as I attempt not to hyperventilate at how the entire city suddenly appears frozen around me.

The Town Car is pulled to a stop mid-traffic, and it’s not the only one. Passersby on the street stand frozen mid-step, and a woman near the crosswalk, holding her cellphone flat in her palm like she was talking on speaker, is paused midsentence.

What in God’s name—?

The whole city is eerily still.

I take a few tentative steps, dropping my hands to my sides how Mammon taught me.

I can’t do anything but make my palms glow enough to occasionally cause the curtains inside the penthouse to smoke, let alone blast anything, but right now even that feels better than nothing.

Slowly, I step forward, coming to stand in the middle of the intersection in front of the frozen Town Car where Dagon stares blankly out the window.

He’s a demon, not a human, which must mean ...

One of the streetlights at the end of the block goes out suddenly, and my muscles clench as I turn toward it.

Followed by another.

And another.

My stomach drops.

I watch in horror, my pulse racing, until finally the last remaining light snuffs out, and the whole block plunges into darkness.

Except for the eerie ethereal glow of my palms.

The wind blows, mussing my hair, and the nearest streetlight overhead flickers, illuminating where a naked woman steps forth from the shadows, covered only by her long hair. She’s as nude as the day she was born.

Or the day she birthed everything.

I feel myself pale.

I know who she is instantly.

“Lilith,” I breathe.

Lucifer looks just like her.

“Charlotte.” She smirks, stepping toward me, her voice like a thousand furies.

My shoulders tense, and I have to lock my knees extra hard to keep from shaking. “Goddess.” I lower my head slightly in deference.

It seems like the right thing to do.

She smiles. “Oh stop, it’s Mother to you. We’re family,” she says, as if she can hear my thoughts. It sounds even more horrible coming from her than every time Mimi’s said the same thing.

Lilith is darkness embodied.

Chaos in human form.

Somehow, I know that instinctually.

She steps near me, drawing so close I fight hard not to take a step back.

My Mother-in-Law is her own unique brand of terrifying.

And what do you even say in the presence of the divine Goddess? Of God’s ex?

“I heard your cries,” she murmurs to me, before she tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The back of her hand grazes the side of my cheek, and I shiver from head to toe. “How you called out for my Husband.” She tsks.

“He never answered,” I whisper.

She casts me a pitying look. “He never does.” She starts to circle, her fingers gently trailing across my exposed skin. Something about her touch feels vaguely threatening. Like with the tip of a finger, she could make me crumble into stardust.

Another tremor runs through me.

“You’re ... the Goddess of Scorned Women?” I ask.

Jax has been giving me a few lessons in the occult, in the blending of different cultures and religions. How one true figure might end up with many different variations, versions, and names. Circe. Medea. Tiamat.

Nyx. Kali. Hecate.

Lilith has had many names.

“But I heard you,” she says, her voice simultaneously behind me and around me.

I twist, desperately searching to try and find where she went, only to turn back and find three different versions of her in front of me.

I jerk back, my knees locking so I’m unable to move from the terror that grips me. Thanks, Dad. My heartbeat thrashes inside my ears. I couldn’t escape her if I tried.

She’s everywhere.

The center version’s eyes cloud with white, the autumn leaves around us swirling as a sudden gust of wind blows through the block.

She lifts her arm like she’s reaching for me, but I step back.

Like hell am I going to let her get any closer.

The wind whips at me in a growing maelstrom, and I’m forced to duck as a plastic bag and other city debris that are now flying around us nearly hit me, only for me to realize that the other two versions of her have surrounded me, blocking me in.

Maiden. Mother. Crone.

They speak to me in unison.

Their echoed voices screeching.

“The Daughter of Chaos approaches, born to deceive; in blood, she rises in the dragon’s name.

Birthed of the Holy Mother, against the will of the Father, she will strike where none dare tread.

For within her she shall wield a power yet unseen by the heavens.

For as it was written: ‘She who was dead shall bring forth the living to the wrath of the Last Judgment.’”

Suddenly, the two new versions of Lilith are sucked back inside her, her body giving a distinct jerk. The clouds in her eyes disappear, and in the span of my next breath, the singular version of her stares back at me again.

She claps her hands together. “Oh good. It looks like you’re going to help me fuck over my Husband, after all.” She casts a wicked smile at me before she steps forward, patting my cheek. Her eyes fall to my still-flat middle, and she wrinkles her nose. “Get to work on those grandbabies, would you?”

And with that, she turns and is gone in a blink.