“Huh,” Duncan says.
“It still means she was hidden from us, and that someone powerful created her,” I state. “There are rules and consequences to being a god I’m not sure she’s aware of.”
“Like what?” Zee says.
“Let’s find her first, then I can explain it to her. Zac’s searching her apartment, the cottage, and her grandfather’s house. Any other ideas on where she might be?” I ask everyone, because if I know one thing about Natia, it’s that she never does as I expect, and I doubt death has changed that.
“I’ll check her old room at the SIP,” Duncan mumbles.
“Okay,” I agree. The phone cuts off.
“She won’t be there, too obvious,” Jed says.
Lucifer opens his mouth. Slams it closed and disappears. I glance at Jed, his face mirroring my frown.
“He knows where she is,” I state.
Jed launches his phone. “Fuck.” The fragile technology shatters against the stone and scatters across the floor.
8
Chapter Eight
Lucifer
The devil needs an angel, and she is his.
People scatter like a flock of terrified birds as I stalk through the club. I burst through the door and stride down the slim hallway connecting Hell’s Hole to my private apartments. Priceless paintings hang on the wall, but none of them capture my interest. Like a bloodthirsty hound, I have to confirm if my suspicions are correct. My hand reaches out for the handle. I pause and swallow the lump in my throat. Why would she come here? Why would she trust me? This was a stupid idea. I drop my hand and step away from the door whilst running my hands through my hair. If I’m wrong, I’m a fool for believing this woman would gift me her friendship. Guilt washes over me. I regret forcing her to make an oath that contributed to her fatal decision. I banked on her draw to save humanity over the feelings she had for Archan, and lost. The heart will always conquer the mind.
“Stop being an idiot,” I admonish myself. If she’s not there, so what? No one is here to witness the disappointment splattered all over my face.
The door swings open and there she stands like an angel; white dress caressing her curves, a mass of blonde hair falling around her raging oceanic eyes.
Her lips quirk up. “Hi,” she mumbles.
I eat up the space between us in one stride, wrap my arms around her and lift her from the floor. She gives a tiny yelp of protest as I bury my face in her shoulder. Her arms come around my neck and her entire body relaxes. “We lost you,” I mumble into her hair.
She pats my arms. “Let me down.”
I carry her into my apartment and slam the door shut with my foot. “Not yet.”
She chuckles as I stand in the centre of the room and just breathe her in. “Okay, this is getting weird. Put me down before I go goddess on your ass and ruin our friendship.”
I give her a last squeeze, then pop her down onto her feet. I step back and drink in the sight of her. She’s different, altered on a cellular level that I’m sure confused my brother. But her soul still shines the same. She smells the same, acts the same. Other than her species, she is our Natia.
“Well, that was a nicer greeting than being kidnapped, strangled, stabbed and psychologically tortured.”
“He stabbed you?” I look over her body, noticing the blood stains on both sides of her abdomen.
She rolls her eyes. “That’s what you focus on?”
I raise my hands to check her injuries. She slaps them away. “Isn’t that the worst of it?”
She shakes her head. “I’m healed and no, when you kiss someone like you’ll never see them again, and then call them a phony. That’s worse.”
I grab her hand and lead her to the sofa in front of the eternal fire. “Archan is confused, he’ll come around.”
“Archan hangs out with Mr Grumpy Pants too much,” she mumbles.
