“No more God, no more souls?” I ask.
His shrug isn’t nearly as uncaring as he wants it to be.
“So, Heaven and Hell would be ...”
“Empty,” he says.
My stomach roils.
At least in Michael’s apocalyptic nightmare, we’d all get a decent shot at an afterlife.
But in Lilith’s?
Nothing.
Just endless nothing.
I shake my head. I can’t allow that to happen. I can’t just stand here and allow myself to break.
I have todosomething.
“What time is it?” I glance to the clock on the wall. It’s nearly 10:30 p.m., which means ...
I’m already late for Sloth’s after-party.
True celebrities never hurry, Charlotte.
Lucifer’s advice from when we attended the Met Gala comes back to me.
Arriving fashionably late tonight is for the best, obviously.
It’ll take a long, hot shower to get all this blood off. Thank goodness it isn’t mine. Though the sight of Lilith feasting on Ian ...
A shiver runs through me.
And Jax . . .
I shake it off.
I have to stay focused. I have to do anything that might help me gain a better chance at saving her. Starting with returning to my original plan.
More celestial favors in my pocket, more of the Originals indebted to me.
I’m getting used to this whole staring-down-impending-doom thing.
“Azrael, I need you to take me to the penthouse and then drop me off at Sloth’s after-party.”
“In the Hamptons?” He quirks a brow.
I give a quick nod. “When Lucifer returns, tell him I’m safe and I’ll be back at the penthouse sometime in the morning.”
Azrael’s brow furrows. “He won’t like that.”
“He doesn’t have to.” I shrug, rising to my feet. “I’m in charge of my life now. Remember?”
I’m going to do whatever it takes to stop the apocalypseandsave my friend.
Come hell or high water.