Page 12 of Wicked Believer
Naturally, I was right, of course. My Father tires of humanity. No doubt that’s why He disappeared after freeing us.
To leave Earth’s destruction in our capable hands. Me and my angelic siblings.
He never was one to admit when He was wrong.
But what does that mean for the once-human woman beside me?
“Don’t worry, dear. You’ve been distracted,” Mother says, clearly clocking the frustration on my face as she draws closer before she reaches out to pat my cheek, as if to reassure me I’m not losing my touch. She looks toward Charlotte. “She is a beautiful, tempting little thing, isn’t she? Now that you’ve polished up your Father’s work a bit.”
“She’s mine,” I snarl, unable to stop myself. “Never His. Not any longer.”
“As she should be.” She gingerly steps away from me. “Keep working on giving me grandchildren, won’t you? I’d love to be a Mimi in our next universe, though I do suppose your sister might be a bit put out if I steal her nickname, wouldn’t she?”
“And what’s your role in all this?” My eyes flick toward Charlotte, my expression hardening. “Why her?”
“Mammon?” She lifts a curious brow as she turns to look at me.
“No, Charlotte. Why create her for me?”
It’s the one question that still doesn’t make any sense. Even to me.
She shakes her head like I’m being naive. “I already told you. I simply nudged her in the right direc—”
“Oh, come off it, Mum,” I growl. “Michael already told me.”
She sighs, her coy demeanor deflating. “Michael never was one to keep a secret. My own fault for creating him that way, I suppose.”
“Mother.” My eyes flash in warning.
She huffs. “Really, Lucifer? Don’t you trust me?”
I don’t answer her.
I trust no one.
Least of all Father. And now, her too, by proxy.
“I see,” she says, her expression an odd mixture of yearning and regret. “Of course you don’t. Not now that you have something to lose.” Her eyes fall toward Charlotte, who starts to stir, but to my surprise, there’s no hint of malice there, only a wistful maternal longing. “I always thought it rather clever how your Father created Eve from Adam’s rib, so when He severed your wings, well, what’s the harm in holding on to one of your most cherished son’s bones?”
My expression goes cold. “You didn’t.”
Mother forces a laugh. “It was just the initial creation spark, that’s all, darling. The rest was all you, I swear. Her mother prayed for conception. What kind of monster would I have been to ignore her like your Father would?” Her lips pinch with thinly veiled resentment.
“But to what end?” I snarl.
Mother sighs again. “I would have thought you’d learned this lesson from your Father’s mistakes long ago.” She places her hand on my cheek once more, her russet skin like a shadow against me. “Every king needs a queen. Every god, a goddess. Even you.” She pats my chin. “Do try hard not to break her.”
She snaps her fingers.
And in a blink, she’s gone.
Vanished from the clearing. Too fast even for me.
I swear loudly, not bothering to unfreeze time considering she already undermined me. Seconds later Charlotte finally rises onto herelbows, looking around dazedly. She places her hand on her head as she glances toward me, and from the frown on her lips, my Mother is not the only woman I’m going to disappoint this evening.
“A few seconds ago, you were standing beside me, but then I ... could’ve sworn I heard you talking to someone, and now you’re ...” Her voice trails off. “What’s going on?”
In this, I won’t lie to her.
