“There are a handful of demons who believed the Nephilim child has never been murdered, like I was supposed to be, and have been looking for me.”
“Do you think more will come looking?”
“I’m sure of it,” I say and pick a pepperoni off my pizza. I’m not really hungry, but the pizza smells good. Plus, I can’t drink away my nerves, so I might as well binge eat. “And they either want to use me or kill me. Assholes.” I let out a breath. “So I need to find this new boss and kill him before he raises hell in, well, Hell.”
“Really? You need to find and kill him?” Lucas asks pointedly. He wanted me to swear off demon hunting the second we found out I was pregnant, and I don’t blame him, really. I’d love to take nine months off, but we both know I’m the best and possibly only one for this job. As the possible candidate to be next in line to rule Hell, I could use this as an example of why you shouldn’t mess with me.
Queen Callie takes no demonic shit, and all.
“I think this is a lot bigger than you’re making it out to be,” Easton finally says, having to force each word out because he doesn’t want to admit it himself.
“No,” I immediately counter, ignoring Lucas’s gaze on me. “Someone wants to take over Hell. I find him, I kill him, and there’s no new boss to bring Hell to earth. Easy-peasy. It’s not like I haven’t killed demons before.”
“Let me know how to help,” Easton quickly responds. “And I’ll be there.”
“I don’t know.” Melinda nervously folds her napkin in half and then half again. “Angels…Lucifer…it is way bigger than anything we usually deal with. And I know you’re going to hate me for saying this, Easton, but we’re human. Yeah, we’ve been training for this since we could walk, but I can’t hold hellfire in my hand. I’m not going to run away with my tail tucked between my legs, but I’m feeling a little helpless here, and I think you should be, too.”
She looks at her brother, and I feel bad for the fear I see in her eyes. It’s not my fault Lucifer is free, not at all, and I’m getting more and more pissed at him as time goes by. I get it, to an extent at least, and I wouldn’t want to be damned to Hell, either. But doesn’t he know the risks he’s imposing on not just me but the whole freaking world?
“It might not even come to it,” I rush out. “Lucifer has returned to Hell before, and he’ll do it again, I’m sure of it.”
Everyone looks at me like I’m off my rocker, and maybe I am. But, dammit, I want so badly to believe Lucifer will do the right thing. He’s the devil, but only because he was made to be so. Maybe it’s wrong of me—naive, even—to believe he’s not evil, but I just can’t see him in that light.
He’s not the dark lord he’s been pictured as. He’s family, and if anyone knows how it feels to be cast out and sentenced to a life away from those you thought loved you, it’s us.
Bael busted his own ass out of jail, and Lucifer had nothing to do with it. I get why both he and my father spun that lie, blaming a powerful demon for Remiel’s demise. But Lucifer did nothing wrong. He risked just as much as Michael to protect me, after all…right?
“Well, if it doesn’t, you know where to find us.” Easton finally takes a bite of his pizza, and I pick another pepperoni off mine, wishing my familiars were here to eat it because they’re suddenly unappetizing. I should have just ordered plain cheese.
“I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves,” I go on. “But we’ve been around the block long enough not to kid ourselves.”
“Right,” Melinda says, looking like she’s going to need a Xanax to sleep tonight. “And in the meantime, is there anything we can help you with?”
“No,” I say with certainty. “I’m trying to take the next few months off, though if you happen to notice any—” I cut off when Lucas’s gaze weighs heavily on me. “If you think the world is gonna end, give me a heads up.”
Her lips curve into a forced smile. “I can do that. And let me know, too? I don’t want to be blindsided like the dinosaurs.”
I laugh. “I will totally let you know if a meteor is headed this way.” I pick off another pepperoni and take a bite of pizza, setting the remainder of the slice back on my plate. I wipe my hands on a napkin and lean back, eyelids heavy.
“Are you tired?” Lucas asks, and I know he’s only asking to prove a point. It’s late, and I’d be tired if I wasn’t pregnant. He wants Easton and Melinda to leave but is withholding outright kicking them out for my benefit.