Page 119 of Wicked Believer
I glimpse at the falling ash.
Which must mean . . .
The first seal is open.
My stomach drops, my adrenaline spiking as I struggle to breathe.
With no real thought for what I’m doing, I pull my phone from the pocket of my leggings. The morning’s headlines stare back at me.
The Day the Earth Shook: Global Quakes Leave Billions in Peril
I swipe through the coverage, each headline more terrifying than the last.
Hundreds of buildings. Countless people.
Pestilence will be free to ravage the world now.
A fresh wave of panic shoots through me. But despite the horror I feel, my mind still can’t fully comprehend it.
“Lucifer,” I breathe, making a move to dart around this new guy.
But he steps into my path, blocking me. “He’s fine,” he says. “Nothing but a little roughhousing between siblings.”
I sputter. “But he—”
I test the connection between us. At a distance it normally feels a bit thready, but now I can hardly feel it at all.
My jaw sets.
He did this. Lucifer and Michael.
But somehow that doesn’t stop my feeling of concern for him.
I have to believe he can change course.
That together we can fix this. Do what’s right.
“And what about the humans still stuck in the aftermath? Is he—”
“There’s nothing you can do for them now. Trust me.” My unknown savior’s expression turns grim, and despite that I have no reason to believe him, I feel more than understand what he means. “Lucifer said to tell you not to worry,” he says, like he can see right through me. “He’ll see you tonight.”
In the playroom.
Another chill rakes over me. I don’t know this man or his power from Adam, other than from my—ahem—vivid dreams about him, but he seems to know me. His power wraps around me, but instead of feeling foreign, it feels ...
Oddly familiar.
“Where have I—”
My words are cut short the moment his dark eyes meet mine. There’s something terrifying and uncanny about him, and it’s almosttoo much to take, though I can’t place my finger on why that is. Maybe it’s the current events.
The stench of humanity’s collective terror in the air.
I swallow, taking the whole of my strange savior in.
Where Lucifer is all sharp lines and trim edges,thisman is rugged to his core. Harsh angles, rough features, broad muscled shoulders, with long hair pulled back into a loose-hanging man-bun, which according to Jax either signals “self-obsessed narcissist” or “grade A douche,” but in this case, it’s seriously working for him. Coupled with that divine body that looks like it was built for war ...
My tongue darts out, wetting my lips.
