Page 79 of All's Hell That Ends Well

“Thank you,” she said, a husky note to her voice. “And for what it is worth, I understand your reaction. I do not blame you for lashing out.” She looked out over the city once more, that smile turning a tad sly. “I was just like that in my youth. Quick to anger. Explosive in my responses. My emotions have always burned so bright in me, especially my fury. It would often get the better of me, outpacing my rational thoughts.” Her eyes tracked back to me in a side-glance. “So I know where you get it from.”

I made a soft sound of sardonic amusement.

“But you already show so much more restraint and self-control than I ever had,” she continued. “And I also know where you get that from.” Another side-eye. “That cold control of yours? That iron will to govern all aspects of yourself, the unyielding hardness of the mask you display for those not privileged to your heart? That is your father.”

My hands clenched in my pockets, the muscles of my back and shoulders locking tight, a visceral reaction to the subject of him. I had yet to untangle the mess of emotions left behind in the wake of his death.

“I suppose,” she added softly, “as far as parental gifts go, it isn’t the worst. You have turned out to be a remarkable male, despite the failings of your mother and father.”

“You didn’t fail me.” My voice came out rough.

Naamah remained silent, her lashes fluttering over incandescent eyes that were fixed on the skyline.

“You didn’t,” I repeated. “I know you wanted to be there for me, for us. I do not hold the twisted prison that was your mind against you, for that wasn’t your fault.” More quietly, I added, “And I do not begrudge you the bond you have with your father. If it weren’t for him, I would have truly lost my mother eons ago. But he kept you here, kept you alive, and no matter the strife between him and me, I can appreciate how he took care of you.”

She gave a shaky nod, blinking fast to clear her eyes of wetness.

“I know you did what you could to mitigate the situation for me and Zoe,” I went on. “It may have taken me time to process, but I see that now.” One side of my mouth curled up. “The fact that Zoe gave me a talking-to might have helped a bit.”

She turned to fully look at me. “Zoe?”

I gave her a rueful smile. “She is too wise for her years. I fear she’ll make me feel like a buffoon in a few centuries’ time when that emotional insight of hers has matured even more.”

Naamah’s smile was brilliant. “You are truly blessed to have found someone to complement you so. I had the impression before, but now I see it all the clearer—she isgoodfor you. She makes you stronger. Both of you together are more than each of you alone.” Her brows drawing together, she asked, “Are you able to see her freely now? Go visit her whenever you want?”

I nodded. “Seems like Lucifer has given up his objections to our meetings.”

“I am glad.” Her lips pressed together. “I have been urging him to be reasonable about it, though I didn’t know whether mypleas wouldn’t fall on deaf ears.” She grimaced. “He can be so stubborn.”

“Well, Zoe yelling at him to not be a dick might have contributed to his change of mind, too.”

Her mouth fell open, then her lips quirked up in a devious grin. “She didn’t.”

“Most assuredly so.”

“And she got away with it unscathed?”

I shrugged. “He can’t exactly harm her, as per the oath you made him swear and the spark of Lilith inside her that makes him incapable of hurting her. And he needs her alive and functional to search for the reincarnation. Which means she is in the unique position to speak her mind to him without fearing consequences. And she makes good use of it.”

With the turquoise of her eyes sparkling like sunlight glinting off Caribbean seas, she clapped her hands and said, “Oh, I like her. I like her so much.”

I tilted my head. “Though, to be fair, Lucifer could always wield the fate of her father’s soul as leverage to ensure proper respect and compliance.” I raised a brow. “I am surprised he hasn’t used it yet. The threat is there, but Zoe’s father has been left alone so far.”

“Hm.” Naamah gazed out at the urban jungle once more, her expression contemplative. After a long moment, she said in a soft hush, “Speaking of fathers, how are you, knowing Azrael is gone?”

Hurt spread corrosive fingers inside my chest, the memory of seeing my father decapitated right before my eyes landing like a punch to my stomach.

“Mostly,” I said with a growl at the back of my throat, “I am angry.” Before she could say something, I clarified, “With him.”

“Tell me.” A gentle request.

“Thousands of years,” I gritted out. “Thousands of years of silence and abandonment, only for him to develop a spine and a conscience two seconds before he was killed!” The last part of the sentence came out in a near shout, my anger rising to the fore.

Naamah made a commiserating sound.

Rounding on her, I snapped, “He couldn’t have had that change of heart centuries earlier? A millennium prior? No, he had to stew in his cowardly attitude all thisfuckingtime, wasting eons. Depriving me, and Azmodea, of true reconciliation! And then”—I pointed my finger, baring my teeth—“he has to go and do the one thing that abso-fucking-lutely earns my eternal forgiveness, but instead of being there so I can tell him how much that fucking means to me, he lets himself be cut down by some bloody angel, and now what do I do?”

My wings erupted with a whoosh without my conscious doing, and the windows rattled with the force of my power.

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