He cocked his head, studied me with shrewd eyes. “Why not?”
“Faith is something I doubt you’re familiar with.”
“You still put your faith in Him? After all He’s put you through?”
“It wouldn’t be faith if it was so easily swayed.”
Lucifer shook his head. “Humans.”
There was no arguing with someone like him. He couldn’t understand my faith because he’d never had to believe in something he couldn’t see. He’d seen God’s face, spoken to Him. That wasn’t faith; it was firsthand knowledge.
“You proved my point. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“I prefer to put my belief in people who don’t have a habit of disappointing me.”
“Belief is not necessarily the same as faith. Faith is believing anyway.”
Lucifer chuckled. “It’s been a long time since I’ve bothered debating the finer points of religion with a believer. I think I’ve missed it.”
I shook my head at the absurd turn my life had taken. It shouldn’t surprise me anymore after all that I’d been through, including resurrection, but somehow here I was chatting with the devil about God. If anything, having him standing in front of me along with the angels proved everything. I hadn’t misplacedmy faith or put myself on a futile path when I’d become a priest. All of it was for a higher purpose.
The realization was a comforting one. It only strengthened my belief that we would win.
Before Lucifer could say anything else, the four enormous men who’d gone on the hunt for War’s weapon literally tumbled into the middle of the room in a pile of limbs and flowing locks.
“Oh, my,” Lucifer muttered.
“Help us,” Chaos said, changing the tone in the room instantly as he laid a seizing Pan out on the floor, rolling him on his side while the purple demon twitched and foamed at the mouth.
“Pan!” Malice shouted, running over to the horseman and his son.
Despite the concern for Pan roiling in my gut, my attention snapped to the twins. Tor struggled to stand along with Alek, who was awkwardly stiff as a board in his brother’s grasp. Alek looked perfectly healthy aside from the fact that he hadn’t moved a muscle. Not even a blink.
“Somebody get Sunday,” I snapped, my vampiric speed moving me from one side of the room to the other near instantly. I dropped to my knees between Tor and Chaos. “What happened?”
Tor’s body trembled as he fought against the instinctive rage threatening to consume him. “Pan was bitten by a spider. Alek...” He seemed to struggle with his words before shaking his head and saying, “A spirit passed through his body and now this.”
I’d already bitten deep into my wrist and was pouring my blood over Pan’s lips while Tor spoke. I had no idea if my blood would counteract the venom, but it healed most things, so it was worth a shot. Then I did the same for Alek, just in case.
Pan’s seizure stopped almost instantly, and he gasped as he came back to himself. But Alek didn’t move. He remained frozen, staring at nothing.
“What’s wrong with him?” Tor asked, voice low and urgent.
“Alek?” Sunday called, running into the room with Moira, Kingston, and Thorne on her heels. A heartbeat later, Asher and Rosie followed.
“Pan?” Rosie echoed.
A crowd had gathered around us, effectively blocking the newcomers from being able to easily see or reach the injured.
“Move!” I bellowed.
The crowd parted enough that Sunday and Rosie could get to their mates.
“Where are you injured?” Malice asked his son, looking over him as he tried to get to his feet. Pan was healing, but wasn’t fully recovered quite yet.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled, waving away his father’s attempt to help him up, but when his legs gave out on his second try, both Rosie, and Malice were there for support.
“You’re not,” Rosie said. “I smell blood. Yours. What happened to you?”
