One grabbed me from behind pinned my arms, blades suddenly coming at me from all around. Panic filled my chest and I fought back a scream for help. I slammed my eyes closed, pressure pushing against my eyes, and then I sprawled to the ground beneath a shower of black rain. The entire area around me was coated in slime, the demons in the immediate vicinity blown to smithereens. I lifted my hand and scrunched my nose at the muck dripping from my fingertips.
“Why are they so nasty?” I grumbled.
I only slipped twice before I got my footing, and just in time. My instincts screamed at me to find cover. Across the lawn, Lucifer pulled a sword out of his gut. I only had a split-second to be worried before the space around him rippled like the air above a furnace. My stomach flipped and I took off running.
Another small pack of nearby demons took up the chase and I conjured more of the fiery disks, flinging them at random. I turned my head to see if any hit their marks and tripped over a bench, landing hard on my back. My lungs locked up, but I scrambled up and ducked behind the bathrooms just as black flames swallowed the area. It was beautiful, but I knew if any of that touched me, I’d be obliterated. It was both hotter and colder than anything I’d ever felt.
The fire died quickly, and I laid there another second, breath rushing back into my lungs. This night had gone to complete and utter shit. I wiped black goo from my eyes, flinging it from my fingertips, and looked down at my ruined outfit.
Fucking hell. Sophie was going to kill me if I tracked this nasty shit into the apartment.
A laugh bubbled up. Then another. Then I couldn’t stop laughing. Living in the world where I knew gods and witches and other creatures existed, nothing had really scared me. But I was worried how Sophie would react if I ruined the carpet with some demon blood?
Note to self: jump in the bay and wash off first. Or I could try it with magic. Maybe I could remember one of Mom’s cleaning spells for clothes.
I cleared my throat, regaining control of myself, and stood, pain lancing through my right knee where I’d hit the bench. There were no scorch marks on the ground from the fire. The trees were intact. The bodies of the wounded demons I’d left behind were nowhere to be seen. Even the gooey demon residue had been swept away by the fire.
I jogged back toward the clearing, clenching my teeth against the discomfort, noting all the damage to the lawn where I’d dropped the ridiculous cartoon weapons. Another laugh fought to get out until my feet slowed and I took in the scene before me.
Sam—Lucifer—was still in his weird red half-dragon form, no other demons in sight. The greasy man was kneeling before him, and Lucifer's hands were on his head. His wings moved with the slight breeze, and I was struck by another fact.
Red dragon. The form God supposedly gave Lucifer when he cast him from Heaven. If I’d had any doubts before then, there it was. Right in my face. The man I’d fallen in love with was the literal devil.
He picked a sword up off the ground and it burst into flames. A small part of me got excited at the idea of using that trick in the next battle. What next battle? Was I seriously considering staying around this asshole who kept something so huge, so… so dangerous from me?
I had to shield my eyes from the white light pouring out of his hand when the flames died down. It didn’t burn or freeze like the black fire did, but it felt similar in a way. Where the light touched my skin, it tingled. Then I heard a thump and the light died away.
Greasy guy was missing his head.
Lucifer had just killed someone right in front of me.
And that wasn’t even what I was pissed about.
All the fury I’d built up from dealing with those demons, from knowing how much Lucifer had kept from me, from knowing I was never going to have a normal relationship—NEWS FLASH, I’m not normal!!—all hit at the Sophiee time. My entire body was shaking, and now that my power had been sated, I felt empty. Hollow.
Betrayed.
“Lucifer?”
He flinched. At least he had the decency to do that much.
“Did he just call youLucifer?”
Turning slowly, he shifted back down to the form I knew best, his clothes reforming on his body. Despite the anger in my tone, his eyes moved up and down, looking me over. “Are you okay?”
I threw my arms up dramatically, my hands flailing before smacking against my blood-soaked jeans. “I am so far from okay. Look at me! What the hell was all that about?”
“I can explain, but right now—”
“TheLucifer? As in, the actual fucking devil?” I asked again, needing this answer from him directly. “Are you serious? Y-you work at a bakery! You make extra batches of food so the kids next door have after-school snacks!”
His expression changed instantly, from concerned to a carefully blank mask. Pressure was building up in my head again and my eyes felt like they were about to pop out of my skull. Flames licked up my fists and arms again. They could act as the visual representation of my anger just then.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he said, his voice low.
Thatwas the understatement of the fucking century!
A slow clapping sound echoed in the space around us. I spun, wincing as my knee twisted, and straightened in surprise. My dad, dressed in a nice suit and a green scarf wrapped around his neck, was walking toward us. Why the hell was my dad here? And just how long had he been there?
