Page 7 of Infernal

“What if we figured out a way to get Lucifer out of Trace’s body first? Trace would regain control and come back, right?” Gabriel started to shake his head, so I quickly added, “I mean, theoretically, of course.”

He thought about it for a moment. “I suppose, but it isn’t very likely, Jemma.”

“Which part?”

“All of it,” chimed Dominic, sans bedside manner. “The chances of Lucifer allowing Trace to occupy the same vessel as him are next to non-existent. And you certainly cannot simply exorcise the Devil out of him like he was some common demon.”

“Why not?”

“Because, he’s not a demon, buttercup.”

“Dominic.” Gabriel tightened his jaw and shook his head at him.

“Would you rather I lied to her, brother? Giving her false hope will only make her run off and do something foolish.”

“Excuse me?” I snapped, glaring at him.

“You’re excused, angel,” he said offhandedly before turning his attention back to Gabriel. “You know as well as I do that Romeo is done for. The only thing we should be concerning ourselves with is the end of days. Or am I the only one who hasn’t forgotten?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Not usually, no, although I do need you to be more specific.”

“To throw Trace to the hellhounds and be done with him!”

“That’s hardly what I’m doing.”

“Bullshit.” I didn’t trust his intentions for a minute. Not when it came to Trace. “I know what you’re trying to do, but it doesn’t matter to me one bit, because I’m not giving up on him until there isn’t an ounce of hope left.”

“I’d say we crossed that bridge when that temptress blood of yours hit the ground.”

My back stiffened as fresh tears scorched the corners of my eyes. “You don’t know that! You don’t know anything!”

Gabriel himself said there was no precedence for this. They were just as much in the dark as I was, and the way I saw it, if Lucifer found a way inside of Trace, then there had to be a way to get him out.

I only hoped Trace’s soul would still be in his body when I found it.

“You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, and it’s going to get you killed,” Dominic said, taking a slow and calculated step towards me. His voice was softer now, more urgent. “Is that what you want, angel? Because there are more pleasant ways to die if that is what you desire.”

“I don’t care about what happens to me,” I said stubbornly, matching his advance. “This isn’t about me!”

He lowered his head so that we were at eye level now. “It’s always about you, angel. At least it is where I am concerned.” There was something strangely sincere about his words and the tone in which he spoke them.

“If you’re so concerned about me, why don’t you help me?”

“That’s precisely what I’m trying to do.”

“Well, it doesn’t feel that way,” I said lowly, trying not to lose my breath from his closeness.

His eyes dropped from my gaze, surveying everything from my lips to my neck to the bump on my head and then back again. “We both know you don’t allow yourself to feel anything where it concerns me.”

I flinched at his words—at their implication. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

His lips parted to say something before pressing together again.

A blanket of static passed between us, charging the air with muted words and tethered emotions. My chest heaved as I tried to fill my lungs with the air that was never enough. Afraid of what I might say or do with him standing so close to me, I tried to push him away again, but he caught my wrists and pulled me into him.

“Perhaps if you stopped pushing me away,” he said as he lowered his head again, his breath caressing my lips as he spoke, “you’d see that I only want to keep you from peril.”

---