“Forty years. Phew. That’s a lifetime of arguments and fuck-ups. How did you survive it?”
Julia still didn’t answer. Right, everyone was all about self-reflection these days. I turned that focus to the battle before me, watching the ever-increasing fear and chaos Eloise was creating, to drive the need for someone to swoop in and save humanity. She was waiting for the tipping point when leaders around the world would give her their left testicles to stop the supernatural disaster. Hell was an easier target than Heaven. It had one archangel protecting it, while heaven had multiple. I tilted my head at my uncle. Clearly, God thought him strong enough to manage it alone, which meant he was powerful—more so than the rest of them. But it was also a burden he carried alone. The more I considered his position, the more I understood the trust God had placed in Lucifer. But did he recognize it, or was he bitter that when he went to sleep at night, it was to a view of fire and brimstone instead of what Heaven offered?
“What do you think, Julia? Does the devil get a holiday?” No answer. The dead generally kept their peace, as was their right.
Hudson moved through the cemetery with predatory grace. “What should I do about my mate and his freshly swallowed essence of my uncle?” That sounded wrong on so many levels,but it was all true. “I could withhold sex,” I mused. “But that feels like punishing myself.”
Swipe, stab, breathe, bend, flick. Hudson dispatched the swarm as if he had been born to do it. My uncle worked at his side, a formidable yet unlikely pairing of power.
What were the ramifications of this? Was it a lifetime deal, or more like an indentureship? A year on spook patrol, and then he was done? Did Lucifer own Hudson’s soul? Over my dead body would I allow my mate to waste away when he embodied everything that was good in this world.
Something shot past my ear—a screaming, furious blur that slammed through the nearest tombstone so hard it cracked. I ducked. “Hey, watch the hair.”
Hudson sliced through another soul while shooting me a deadpan look.
A condemned soul screamed and tried to attach itself to my wing. I swatted it like a mosquito. “See? I’m supervising. Very important job.”
Lucifer sighed like a father fed up with his disappointing children. “Niece, perhaps less supervising and more staying out of the damn way?”
Another soul darted toward me, a shrieking blur of misery. It passed right through my torso, leaving a cold so sharp my ribs ached. “That was rude.”
Hudson swung the scythe like a vengeful lumberjack. “A little help?”
I held my hands up. “I was told—explicitly—not to engage. Hell’s Health & Safety Guidelines apparently has rules about non-employees lifting the dead weight.” I snorted at my clever joke, which was lost on both the living and doomed surrounding me.
A third soul rocketed toward me, and Indigo purred.“Let me eat that one.”
“No.”
“Just a nibble.”
“We are not snacking on condemned criminals like they’re tapas.”
The soul clipped my wing and spun off screaming.
“Let me out before I succumb to starvation,”she hissed.“I’ll strip them down to bone and despair.”
Wonderful. My not-so-alter ego was having whatever counted as the munchies in her warped brain.
A particularly malicious soul shot straight for Hudson’s unprotected side. Instinct roared up my spine, and I punched my hand into the air, sending a burst of raw energy slamming into the soul, knocking it off course.
Hudson skidded to a stop, breath heaving, and shot me a look of equal parts gratitude and annoyance. “I thought you were staying out of it.”
I shrugged. “I lied.”
“Last one,” Lucifer shouted. “Watch your back.”
My wings shivered against my back as Indigo assessed Hudson. She fed me images of us twisting together in the air, bodies entwined while we caressed our souls. Sky sexapades were on the cards after all. I just needed it not to happen under the light of the full moon above Summer Grove House. I’d never live it down.
The last soul splintered into a thousand pieces as Hudson’s scythe cut through it. The night fell still with only the labored breathing of my mate and uncle cutting through the tension.
Hudson’s gaze glowed golden when he turned to face me.
I pointed at him. “You have some explaining to do.”
“Not now.” His voice was little more than a growl as his weapon disappeared. He stalked toward me, and my uncle rolled his eyes. “Should I leave you here to work this out or put you back home?”
“Here,” Hudson snarled.
