Page 83 of Wicked Believer (Original Sinner #2)

Something hard and pointy is nudging against my side, and from the sharpness of it, I don’t think it’s anyone’s dick.

I come to in a foggy haze, vaguely aware that I’m sprawled across the floor of someone’s beach house. Lucifer’s? No, he’s not a fan of the beach. Maybe ...

I sit bolt upright as the memory of everything that happened at Sloth’s party comes rushing back to me. The celebrities. The music. The alcohol.

So much fucking alcohol.

I sway slightly, my vision a bit fuzzy as I squint up at the figure who stands backlit against where the early afternoon sun is trying its best to blind me.

What in God’s name did I do to myself?

My stomach roils as I blink several times, until I’m finally able to determine from the thick hourglass shape that it’s Greed.

“Oh, you,” I mumble as she once again nudges me with the pointy tip of her high heel.

“My brother sent me to fetch you, unfortunately.” She scowls like it’s somehow my fault she chose to help me and is now likely in the celestial doghouse with Lucifer.

My stomach churns again, and I honestly try to aim in the other direction before I ...

Vomit all over her shoes.

Alcohol and shellfish are clearly not intended to mix.

Greed snarls at me.

“Ugh, you’re lucky these aren’t new. Get up.” She grabs me under my arm and hauls me to my feet. I blink, taking in the various partygoers who are now passed out in every imaginable position, as she frog-marches me out of Sloth’s beach house and into the waiting Town Car.

By the time we reach the Upper East Side, where Apollyon headquarters is located, I’ve managed to sober up enough to actually feel proud of the previous evening’s accomplishments.

I got Sloth on board with the rest of the Originals.

He was the last one holding out on me.

And he even reluctantly agreed to help me retrieve Jax, too, if I need it.

Team No Apocalypse: 2. Team Apocalypse: 1.

Things are definitely looking up.

When the Town Car pulls to a stop, Greed directs one of her security team to lead me into the building, still furious and fussing over how I ruined her shoes, as she forces me to take the literal walk of shame up to Lucifer’s office rather than having the team escort me up the back service stairs.

It’s not like she doesn’t have enough money to buy herself, and half the western hemisphere, another pair of Stuart Weizmans.

When I enter Lucifer’s office, a small part of me is aware that Azrael is likely there, waiting in the wings, but it’s not him I’m eager to see right now.

It’s my devil of a fiancé.

I stride toward Lucifer’s desk, trying not to feel embarrassed at what a hot mess I must look like. I showered and changed clothes before the after-party, but I look like someone who’s just stumbled out of a celebrity bash down in the Hamptons.

I think I even have a bit of sand where it shouldn’t be.

I’m not really sure how it got there.

Lucifer’s brow lifts at the sight of me. “I give you free rein to run wild for one bloody fucking night,” he says, shaking his head at me. As if he hasn’t seen me messier than this when he’s finished with me inside the playroom.

But I guess that’s not usually in broad daylight.

“Jax?” I ask hopefully, still praying that somehow, Lucifer was able to ...

Lucifer’s expression falls. “Still with my Mother, I’m afraid.”

My spine runs cold. “You don’t think she’ll—”

“No,” he says quickly. “She loves her prophets, and as one of my Father’s, your friend is a rare breed. Too valuable to lose.”

Which means one of my first true acts as an immortal, other than stopping the apocalypse and whatever Lilith’s planning, will be doing anything it takes to save my friend.

I can’t think of a better celestial path to take.

I glance toward Lucifer, shaking my head at the thought of how far we’ve both come.

It all started with a leaked press release.

But now it’s going to end with my PR proposal.

Between all six of the other Originals and Lucifer’s demonic army, we have to be able to save her and stop the apocalypse. Don’t we?

I take my proposal, that I retrieved from my office on the way up here, and toss it down onto the desk in front of him. “Read it,” I say in the exact tone he used when the tabloids caught Az and me.

Lucifer frowns before he does what I asked. He picks up the folder and quickly thumbs through it. “What is this, Charlotte?”

“My PR proposal. You said no outside angel investors, so I got in-house ones.”

Lucifer’s brow lifts as he reopens the folder and looks again.

“All six of them signed on.” I stand taller. The pride expanding inside my chest isn’t meant to be an offering to him, but I know he’ll appreciate it all the same.

Lucifer watches me for a long beat, leaning back in his executive chair as he drums a few of his fingers over his desk like he’s trying to figure out what to do with me.

“Aren’t you going to say congratulations? Or that you’re proud of me? I’ve accomplished something you’ve never been able to do. I got all of them to agree to something. Your siblings are going to help us fight Michael, and they can help us get Jax back.”

Lucifer lets out a long sigh through his nose. He places both hands on his desk, hanging his head slightly, before he lifts his fiery gaze toward me.

My stomach does another flip at the furious look he gives me.

“Do you know what happened the last time all my siblings worked together?”

I tilt my head to the side, suddenly fearful. “No?” I say slowly.

The blaze of hellfire coupled with the weary look in Lucifer’s eyes is the same one he had when that mysterious package was delivered to the penthouse, the same one from when he realized it was anthrax I was holding.

Like the danger we now face could be catastrophic.

“Did it ever occur to you, Charlotte, that there might be a compelling reason I chose to keep my siblings separate?” he says through clenched teeth. “The fall of humanity? The great flood? The plagues of Egypt? Ever heard of them?”

My heart starts to pound as I realize the full gravity of what that might mean.

For me, for the apocalypse, for Lucifer.

Oh fuck.