Page 101 of Wicked Believer
I throw the magazine back onto the desk, casting a pleading glance toward Lucifer. “It’s not what you think.”
The words are out before I can stop them, the tension thickening, and the worst part is they don’t feel entirely truthful with how guilty I am about that dream. But it was just a dream.
There’s no harm in fantasy, right?
Pain sparks in the back of my throat as I lower my head slightly.
My fault,that thing inside me hisses.My fault, my fault, my fault.
I shake my head.
No, not my fault.
This time I was only doing what I thought was right. What I could to save humanity.
And blowing off steam. The rest was the influence of Az’s powers.
Wasn’t it?
“I will leave that cliched admission of guilt where it belongs inside your head, little dove,” Lucifer says coolly, rounding the far side of his desk like he—
“You ... you heard that?” I stammer. “Wh-what I was thinking?”
Lucifer has the audacity to look almost annoyed with me. “I can only hear what you direct at me, but I’ve been privy to your thoughts for some time now. Get with the program.”
My stomach drops.
“But I . . . I thought . . .” My voice trails off.
My whole plan banked on the fact that hecouldn’tsee inside my head. It was an advantage I had, one of the few things that helped make him fall in love with me, but that was back when I was human.
Now I’m something else.
Fully. Completely.
Despite all the ways I tried to resist it.
I press my lips together, my lack of emotion making my limbs feel heavy.
The way I mindlessly attacked that paparazzo should have been evidence enough.
Lucifer watches me for a long beat, his fingers steepled, his distant expression revealing nothing. But whatexactlyhas he heard me think?
If it’s about what I send to him, I can still pull this off, right?
I just need to tread carefully.
“The other night in the playroom?” I tilt my head toward him, watching him intently as I finally put two and two together. “Those wereyourthoughts I heard, weren’t they?”
Lucifer doesn’t answer me.
But his silence is answer enough.
This is a two-way street.
And until now, he had no intention of telling me I had access to it.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to fight down my frustration.
