Well, fuck that. She’d be damned if she was going down without a fight. Lane lifted her hands and let every ounce of power she had cascade through her veins until everything from her fingertips to her elbows glowed with white-hot energy.
They might die, but she’d make damn sure to do some damage on her way out.
She wanted to tell him she regretted nothing. That if she had it all to do over again, she wouldn’t change a thing, because her life up to this point had brought her to him. She wanted to tell him she loved him.
But she didn’t. Because that’s when a cloud of swirling black energy manifested just over his left shoulder.
By the time he turned around to see what she was seeing, the energy had transformed into a smirking woman. She laid one hand on his shoulder, and one on Lane’s.
“You can thank me later,” she said with a cocky wink before teleporting them both into the abyss.
She wasn’t sure if Lucien heard, but Lane read the woman’s lips clear as day when she yelled, “Fuck you, Mathias!”
Then everything went black.
CHAPTER 21
Lucien had never stopped within the veil between a human dimension and a demon dimension. He’d passed through, but had never stopped to take a look around. Why would he?
Now he knew why. It was fucking disconcerting, that’s why.
Swirling gray mist. That’s all there was. No sound, no smells, no sights. Just swirling gray mist.
And the reaper who’d pulled them out of the library before Michael could turn them into dusty spots on the pristine golden floors, of course.
Even though this reaper obviously didn’t mean Lane any harm, Lucien still tucked her behind him protectively. No reason to take any chances.
The reaper watched him, her smile growing with each passing second.
He didn’t even know who she was, and already, he was starting to really dislike her smile. “Who the fuck are you?” he snarled.
She shoved the hood of the black robe she was wearing off and gave her thick, black curls a shake. “You have a funny way of greeting people who just saved your ass, soldier. And by funny I mean rude as fuck.”
A fight with a reaper wouldn’t be pretty. They were very evenly matched. But he’d do it if she didn’t wipe the smug smirk off her face and start answering his questions.
She must’ve read his intent in his expression because she rolled her black-as-night eyes. “Oh, calm down, will you? I’m Evangelyn, OK?” She glanced around him at Lane. “You can call me Evan, little Nephilim.” Then her eyes cut back to Lucien. “You’re still being an asshole, so you can call me Evangelyn. Or ma’am.”
Behind him, Lane snickered. Obviously, she wasn’t terribly threatened by Evangelyn, so he grabbed her hand and pulled her to his side instead of shielding her with his body. That was the only concession towards friendship or allyship the reaper was getting at this point in their acquaintance.
“Why did you help us, Evangelyn?” he asked, putting an exaggerated emphasis on her full name. “And how did you know where we were and that we needed help?”
It was all a little too convenient for Lucien’s liking.
Seeing her delicate, classically beautiful features pull into an ugly scowl was almost comical. “And still no thank you,” she muttered. “I frankly have no idea why the Nephilim tolerates you at all.”
Neither did Lucien, frankly. But that wasn’t the point.
He’s only trying to protect me, Lane signed.
Evangelyn’s eyes moved over him in an assessing manner. “I hope for your sake he’s good in bed.”
Lane didn’t answer, but the blush that stole over her cheeks said plenty. When—if—they got out of this mess, he had every intention of seeing just how far down her body that blush extended—and he’d trace its path with his tongue.
“Ew,” Evangelyn said, making a gagging motion with her hand. “Reapers read minds, remember, soldier?”
Oh, he remembered. He just didn’t care. So, he shot her own cocky smirk back at her.
She shrugged. “Look, I know you were reading the reaper records in that little book Mathias gave you. You would’ve gotten to my name eventually. You wanted me, so I’m here.”