Page 155 of The World Undone

Lucifer’s jaw grew more rigid, if that was possible. It was the only revelation that he was growing frustrated with my insolence. “We all have different roles to fill, Max. Sam and I—” he cleared his throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable, “we’re limited here, but we’ve been trying to find other options, another way.”

“Did you find one?” I had to ask, but I was far beyond expecting some last-minute plan to save me. Any vestiges of hope I had for that died during my meeting with Saif.

His eyes met mine again, and I softened slightly. I wasn’t the best at reading this man—I wasn’t sure that anyone had ever found it possible to read him—but there was regret there, hesitation.

“I—” he sniffed, his posture stiff and uncertain, “I’ve been trying to find Azrael. I’d settle even for his scythe at this point. I thought I could wait, that I’d have a better chance when I could move more freely through the realms, that dissolving the barrier might force him out of hiding. But his power would be of greater use to me now.”

He’d mentioned that name to me before. Azrael was the guardian of The Styx, and he’d been missing for a long time.

I was getting fucking sick and tired of these missing ancient old dudes.

“Did you find him?” I asked, reading the answer already in the sharp edges of his demeanor.

He shook his head, his lips twitching into a barely-perceptible frown.

“What do you need him for?”

Michael, Azrael, the stone, the nexus—we were all just chasing ghosts, it seemed.

Everything felt like echoes of “what ifs” and rituals, all of us grasping at straws, desperately hoping to clutch something or someone that might save us as we were inevitably shoved off this impending cliff.

There were no heroes though. My stomach sank with the weight of that realization.

That was the truth of it, wasn’t it? We were all just equally lost—children playing at a game of gods.

“Azrael is connected to the realm of the dead, I was hoping that if I could find him, he might—” Lucifer let the words trail off, sinking between us.

“Sayty,” I said, my chest tightening at the thought. “You want to find him so that you might reach out to my mother.”

He loved her. Or at least he had long ago. As much as someone like him was capable of an emotion so big.

“I’d give anything to see your mother, yes, even just for a moment,” there was a gravel in his voice, a slip of emotion that was rare for him, and I was reminded of our last dream-walk, of the ways this world ate at the edges of his shields. His eyes met mine. “But I was hoping to find him sooner.” He paused, shoulders sinking slightly. “For you.”

“For me?”

“I thought he might be able to intervene somehow—that after the ritual, when you’re in the in-between, that he—it,” he shook his head, hands in tight fists at his side, like he was angry at himself for betraying the fact that he cared, like compassion was a weakness, “it was a foolish hope, but I—” his gaze cut to me again, furtive, apologetic, “I had to try.”

Emotion tightened my throat, making it impossible for me to swallow, to speak for a few minutes.

“It’s okay.” I reached for his hand. He flinched at first, shocked by the touch, but he didn’t pull away as I held onto him. “It means a lot that you tried, but it’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. I won’t fight you on the ritual, you won’t need to even use the blood oath. I’ll do it. Gladly, if it means saving everyone I care about. There is no choice, I know what needs to be done.”

His eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of the blood oath, like he’d forgotten that last power chip altogether.

Odd, considering my assessment of him had been that he devoted all of his energy to stockpiling his power over others, no different than The Guild in that way.

But maybe that thirst for power had less to do with him than I thought.

He wanted power over death, but his reasons were born of something more pure, something that had nothing to do with control.

His fingers tightened around mine, his skin surprisingly cool and soft to the touch.

Then, he shook his head, something inside of him snapping. He dropped my hand and took a step back.

“No.”

“No? No, what?”

“I thought I would be able to. But I can’t. I won’t let you do it. I—” his brows furrowed, like he was genuinely surprised or confused by whatever thoughts were flashing through his mind, “I can’t. I won’t lose you too. It was foolish of me to think that when it came time for it, that I could just sacrifice you to combat a greed you had no part in feeding. I’ve never been that strong. If I lose you both, and now, with no way to get you back, what even is the point?”

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