Page 29 of Wicked Believer
“All right then. Your call.” She gives me a bubbly wave. “See you tomorrow?”
I nod weakly.
I stand out of sight as she heads through the exit door, unsurprised at the flashes that light up outside the center. The sounds of clicking camera shutters and the paparazzi shouting my name follow. But I stand in the background, watching until the door seals shut.
She really could be me.
A short time after Olivia leaves, I exit through the second entrance on the concourse level of 30 Rockefeller Plaza along with several members of the security team, the silence in the mostly empty city center a welcome reprieve.
It isn’t until I ask Dagon to drive me toward mine and Jax’s old apartment in Chinatown that I start to truly question if I’m doing the right thing.
Or if taking control of my own future is just as underhanded as Imani believes it to be.
Chapter Nine
Lucifer
I’m out on the roof at the Top of the Rock, smoking a cigarette as I overlook Fifth Avenue when Wrath and Azmodeus finally decide to join me. “Took you long enough.”
Azmodeus rocks on his heels. “We like to leave you guessing when you summon us, of course. Remind you you’re only in charge because we want you to be.”
The side of Wrath’s mouth quirks in agreement, and my attention cuts toward him.
My youngest brother isn’t a man of many words. Simply because he chooses not to be. He far prefers his actions speak for him, and the trail of violence, bloodshed, and war left in his wake speaks volumes. The American military and CIA wouldn’t be nearly as volatile, nor as overreaching, if it weren’t for the quiet influence of Wrath and his many oil and aerospace holdings. Though to the public, arms, defense, and information security are what he deals in, technically. Not that anyone ever bothers to follow the money.
Humans will sell their souls to line their own pockets.
They’re every bit as utilitarian as I told Father they would be.
“So, who are we going to be fucking tonight?” Azmodeus says, plucking my cigarette pack from my inside pocket and bumming onebefore he extends both it and my lighter to me. “Or don’t tell me you and Mammon are both on the rag again. What a fucking bore.”
“The Righteous, unfortunately.” I take a long drag, exhaling, considering all that those bloody bastards and my fiancée’s pitiful excuse for an ex-husband did to her.
He never deserved the title of exanything, didn’t deserve to lick the ground beneath her feet, while meanwhile,Iwould do or give anything.
And for what?
“We’re not even engaged. Not for real.”
My jaw tightens. “Charlotte needs to know that I will protect her. Always.”
Azmodeus nods. “Took you long enough.”
I cast him an unamused look as I snatch my lighter from his outstretched hand, pocketing it coolly. “Mother paid me a visit recently.” I inhale another drag from my cigarette.
“Did she?” Wrath grumbles, the deep timbre of his voice matching the Black human form he’s chosen for this century. A statement about exactly which humans are most likely to be unfairly punished for his sin, I suppose.
A little too on the nose, if you ask me.
I toss down the last of my cigarette, stomping it out beneath my shoe. “She seems to believe Father tires of humanity.”
“And?” Azmodeus shrugs as if this whole thing is painfully obvious.
But it’s Wrath who nods appreciatively. “Do you believe her?”
Azmodeus places a mocking hand over his heart, his eyebrows raised in feigned shock. “Brother, you aren’t actually suggesting thatourloving Mother of all goddesses would choose to sow discord between us for her own means?” He blusters, looking temporarily affronted, before his mouth fades into a wicked smile.
Wrath snorts loudly. “And to think you’re one of the ones she favors.”
