Page 62 of Touched By Death

“I can’t fucking believe this,” I mutter, rubbing at my neck. “Can we please focus on what to do next?” Dropping my hand down by my side, I scan the room. “We need a plan.”

We’re so out of our depth here. This darkness, this monster, is far more powerful than we could have ever imagined.

“Well…” Amenadiel looks around the room. “You and I are going to step through the veil and hunt for the angel while the others go find my brother.”

“And where will we find him?” Ronan asks, handing his joint to Alaric. “I doubt he’s in his office.”

“The club,” Amenadiel replies. “He has an apartment above it.”

“Of course he does.” Ronan releases a chuckle. “Daddy Lucifer has a secret apartment for his conquests.”

I slap him over the back of his head on my way past. “Don’t ever say that shit again.”

“Oh, come on…” He follows after me. “Your father is a womanizer.”

“My father is a psychopath. Don’t confuse the two.”

“Well, he did create Hell and is solely responsible for an entire generation’s separation from the Light, so…”

Alaric tosses the joint into a pool of blood on his way out of the grand entry as we take a left down another hallway toward my father’s office. Restlessness has me fidgeting the entire way there. I scratch at my neck, click my thumbs, and scrub the stubble on my jaw. I hate not knowing where the little witch is.

“You know how to hunt,” Dari says, hurrying to catch up with me. “If anyone can find her, it’s you.”

The narrow hallway stretches out in front of us, the walls lined with gold-framed paintings and sconces. I skirt around a console table with a vase of wilting black roses on top.

“I know you can,” she adds softly, like she’s trying to convince herself more than me.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I shoot her a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll find her and bring her back.”

She looks at me with those big, brown eyes that swim with regret and things unspoken. Sliding my arm around her shoulder, I pull her into me as we near the office door. “Do you doubt my abilities?”

Her smile is weak, but it’s there, and that’s all that matters. We’ll get through this like we get through everything else—by not giving up.

“I could never doubt you, Daemon.”

I catch Dmitriy’s eyes as I look behind us. The unreadable look on his face is mirrored in my own. With a slight tip of his chin, he offers the one thing I never thought I’d earn from him.

Respect.

“Bring her back to us.” The tremble in Dari’s voice pulls me back to the present moment.

I squeeze her to me as we reach the office. “I will.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

DARIANA

A loud spark in the fireplace draws my attention. Amenadiel falls down onto Lucifer’s desk chair like he’s the king of his domain and kicks his feet up on the desk. Ankles crossed, he flashes a smile that showcases his sharp canines. “I always wondered what it felt like to sit behind my brother’s desk—the seat of power. I must admit, I’m disappointed.”

“Get your fucking feet off,” Daemon growls, shoving them to the floor with a swipe of his hand. “Don’t get comfortable.”

I scan the large bookshelves behind the desk. Old books with cracked leather spines take up every inch of the sagging shelves. A large painting of Lucifer hangs on the wall to my left, his dark eyes seemingly following me as I walk the length of the room. It smells of him in here—his spicy cologne and the smokey remnants of his signature hellfire. A leather couch sits beneath the windows, which are draped in heavy, moss-green curtains. I wonder briefly how many women he’s fucked on it, and how many powerful male angels have feared for their life while sweating their balls off beneath Lucifer’s scrutiny. He’s never been a stranger to murder and torture.

“You need to locate my brother and Genesis. Don’t let her out of your sight. When we find the angel and release her from the shadows, she’ll once again regain control of the darkness inside her.” Amenadiel waves a hand in the air dismissively. “At least that’s the best outcome.”

“And the worst outcome?” I ask, dreading the answer.

Amenadiel lets his dark eyes skate across the room to where I stand by the window, silhouetted by the moonlight. “Well, that’s hard to say. In order to return, she needs to fight the darkness inside her first.” The chair creaks as he sits forward and places his elbows on the desk. “Make no mistake, this version of Genesis was born from the shadows. Aurelia is still that innocent little angel who escaped Eden.”

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