Page 139 of All's Hell That Ends Well

“Your Graces.” Ramiel bowed deeply to both Azazel and me. “Let me take care of these for you.”

Grasping Azazel’s shackles, he sent out a pulse of his power. The manacles opened and clattered to the floor. He turned to me and did the same with my cuffs, then unlocked Lucifer’s shackles as well.

The familiar heat of my demon power rose to the surface again, warming my blood and making the air around me oscillate.

Azazel gave Ramiel a nod, laid one hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. Ramiel inclined his head, and then he launched into a report on the battle and the state of the palace, and he and Azazel quietly spoke about logistical things that I probably should pay attention to and learn about, but my head still wasn’t right after the ordeal we’d been through, and my thoughts were all over the place.

Lucifer stepped up to me, his blond hair matted with blood, his armor torn, yet his eyes were the most alive I’d ever seen on him.

“Good start to your reign. Death, destruction, and the sweet scent of fear.” He made a chef’s-kiss gesture and looked at what was left of our enemies—empty clothes and discarded weapons. “Though, personally, I’d have spilled a bit more blood.” He gave me a sly look. “There’s something about coating the floor withit that just gives it that perfect shine, you know. Oh, I almost forgot.” He summoned a sword and held it out to me hilt-first. “If you still wish to stab me.”

I stared at the blade for a moment. Then I batted it aside, launched myself at Lucifer, and hugged him.

After a second of apparent shock, he carefully hugged me back. His hand patting my shoulder a bit awkwardly, he muttered, “I knew you could do it, kid.”

CHAPTER 40

“Iam so glad this works,” I said, looking out over the jagged peaks of the Himalayas, my feathers fluttering in the wind. “I’m not sure I would have ever gotten over not being able to come here anymore.”

Azmodea stretched and folded her wings, shifting on her seat on a boulder. Like me, she barely felt the cold, appearing fully at ease in her glittering, short-sleeved gown that would have given any human death by hypothermia in this climate. “I understand, darling. Earth is just a treasure, isn’t it? This scenery is breathtaking. Though, I’d be miffed that I wouldn’t get to mingle among people as much any longer with that power of yours.”

“Eh.” I shrugged. “That, I can easily go without. They’re just so…peopley.” I shuddered. “And besides, I really only have the two that I want to visit, and one of them is already dead. Yay, me—I can’t accidentally kill him!” I made an exaggerated shimmy.

I’d gone to see my dad the other day, though under special conditions to make sure my power of death wouldn’t unintentionally leak out and kill people around me. Instead of going to his house—or rather, that of his widow—where he usually hung out watching his living family, I’d flown to asmall, remote, and uninhabited island off the coast of Oregon, a good distance away from the shore, and waited for the demon guarding him to bring him to me—stuffed in one of those boxes in which souls were transported from Earth to Hell.

Of course, I’d asked my dad’s permission first via a letter. Given his only other experience with a transport box had been right after Azazel had stolen him from Lucifer way back when, I’d wanted to make sure he was comfortable with it. When he’d heard the explanation of why all this was necessary, he’d readily agreed.

Eight years had passed since I’d last seen him, and thankfully, he was still not showing signs of deteriorating into a wraith. We’d spent hours on the small island, and I’d told him all about my adventures of the past years. I’d never forget the way his eyes had bulged when I’d shown him my wings.

“My daughter,” he’d whispered, his face full of awe. “The Queen of Hell.”

Yeah, I still had to get used to that title.

As it had turned out, it was possible for Azazel and me to visit Earth for a short time without our power affecting our environment—we just had to go alone. We’d done a few experiments on this—very carefully, of course, and with permission from Metatron and Shekinah—and either of us on our own had the least amount of power slipping out. Something about us being separated by an entire dimension dulled that deathly energy a little. It was still there, a steady churn of cold darkness in my core, but it was much easier to push it down and keep it contained when Azazel wasn’t around.

Shekinah and Metatron had surmised that the fact that this power was now shared between Azazel and me through our bond made it more manageable. Lucifer had only ever carried it alone because his connection with Lilith hadn’t been the same kind of soul bond that Azazel and I had. We now appeared to bearthe power of death in equal measures, but if there was a lot of distance between us, or one of us was unconscious, it wasn’t quite as potent.

Sadly, this meant we could never visit Earth together, but it was a small price to pay for all that we had achieved—and for the chance that I could actually still see my loved ones.

For now, I didn’t want to risk too much, and I had yet to test the limits of how much and how long I could be among living people, which was why I’d met with my dad on that remote island, and why I didn’t yet dare to visit Taylor. We still needed to do more experiments, and only once I was sure that I could spend time in Taylor’s presence without any of my power affecting her would I risk meeting her in person. My heart ached at not being able to see her yet, but her safety came first.

I squinted at a speck on the horizon that was gradually becoming bigger. “I think that’s her.”

Azmodea got to her feet and peered in the direction I indicated. “Looks like.”

I bounced in place with nerves and excitement. “Do you know what the surprise is?”

My sister-in-law raised a haughty brow. “As if I would tell you.”

“Come on!”

“Zoe dear, why spoil it? She’s almost here, and then you’ll find out.”

“But I am your queen.” I put both hands on my hips.

“Oh!” She laid a hand on her heart. “Then this might be the opportune moment to tell you that I have a problem with authority.”

Grumbling under my breath, I watched the angel draw closer. The sun’s rays painted her white wings golden as she landed in front of us, her perfectly braided auburn hair unruffledby the journey. Wearing a sari of bright pink and turquoise, Naamah opened her arms and enfolded Azmodea in a hug.

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