Page 72 of Wicked Believer (Original Sinner #2)

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Charlotte

Lucifer and I return topside after he’s made thorough and slow love to me on the floor of his throne room. It’s not as electric or as sinful as what he does to me when we’re alone in his playroom, but still, it makes my heart feel almost whole and complete.

How will I ever be able to give a fair chance to trying things out with Azrael when Lucifer calls to the basest parts of who I am?

I don’t know the answer to that yet, but I know I have to try and figure it out.

For all our sakes.

When Lucifer and I stumble our way back into the penthouse, it’s early evening again , and the satin robe I’m wearing over my play clothes smells just as much of sulfur as he does when he returns from Hell, though I wasn’t able to pick up on the scent at all when we were actually down there.

But what truly confuses me is the sight of Xzander and Sophie, along with the rest of Lucifer’s team, pacing the length of the first floor.

“What are all you—?”

“The CFDA Awards, diva!” Xzander practically shrieks. “The awards show starts in two hours.”

“Two hours?” I blink.

Okay, now I really feel like an ass for all the times I’ve complained about Lucifer being gone. It felt like we were only down there for a handful of hours, not several days.

“I’ll see you on the red carpet, my love,” Lucifer says, laying a gentle kiss on my hand as he heads toward his team. He’ll be ready long before I am, so even though we’ll both be in the penthouse, we won’t see each other again until we’re already en route.

I don’t know why, but the idea of that worries me.

Maybe I’m less prepared for some distance between us than I thought I was?

I feel uneasy.

Whatever it is, I can’t put my finger on it.

I glance down at my phone as Sophie leads me toward her chair, expecting to see a full string of texts from Jax—does Hell even get cell service? Probably not, but I make a mental note to ask Lucifer—but instead, the long string of messages are from Evie.

Hey! Have you seen Jax?

She didn’t come home after we left your party.

That one was from a few days ago.

Hey, Charlotte, Jax still isn’t home, and I’m starting to get worried.

Let me know as soon as you get this.

Another that’s days old.

And then finally:

She still isn’t here. I can’t call the cops.

Not without alerting my brother that I’m here. Charlotte, please answer me.

Followed by:

I don’t have any choice. I’m calling the cops now. My brother’s going to find me, but I can’t keep doing nothing like this.

Charlotte, please answer.

And last but not least:

A photo text from a number I haven’t seen that often lately.

Ian.

I open it only for my whole body to turn rigid, cold.

“What’s wrong?” Azrael asks from where he suddenly forms beside me.

Ever since Lucifer assigned him as my “watchdog,” he always just appears whenever I need him.

Slowly, I turn the screen of my phone toward him, my hand trembling.

Death’s cold eyes take stock of the image of my closest friend, bound and gagged, the blue light of the photo now reflected in his knowing gaze.

His jaw hardens when he sees the familiar blade in Ian’s hand, and somehow, I know from the grim look on Azrael’s face that this blade is the real one, the one he regrets putting into play. Though how did a human ...?

Then Death’s sights fall toward Ian, a person I once thought was my friend. I may not have been on the best of terms with him currently, but I never would have thought he’d do something like this . He holds the Holy Lance ruthlessly against Jax’s bleeding throat.

The last and only other text from him reads:

Come and get her, Mrs. Lucifer.