Page 118 of Wicked Believer
His body and the results speak for themselves.
The space is empty, save for a few pieces of gym equipment, some potted plants, and a treadmill that sits not far from one of the penthouse’s several balconies. I blink, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts in my mind.
I have a distinct memory of racing past one of those balconies.
My body twisted against the wind in freefall.
But ... no memory of anything after that.
I shake my head a little.Weird.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a more vivid dream.
I ease closer to the balcony window, noticing that it looks like it’s ... snowing? I open the balcony door, stepping outside as I watch the steady downfall, but when I catch one of the flakes on my palm, I realize it isn’t snow.
It’s ash.
What the—?
A sudden chill rushes through me as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
What could have—?
“You aren’t going to jump again, are you?”
I jerk around to face the open training room just in time to see a swirl of gray smoke form into the man who’s now standing there.
A man I’ve never met before, except ...
“You.” The word’s out before I even mean to say it, but he doesn’t respond.
Instead, he slowly prowls forward, his eyes raking over me.
The man from the club. The In-Between.
The one who’s been haunting my dreams.
He’s real?
I take a small step back.
“How did you—”
“I reversed time,” he explains. “Put you to bed where you belonged.”
I gape, glancing between him and where the sky’s raining ash. I remember it all now, the memory returning like a rush of wind.
How he plucked my half-frozen body out of freefall.
How he held me in his arms as I fell apart.
Only to deposit me safely back into Lucifer’s bed before he placed a hand to my cheek and ...
The weight of the situation washes over me.
It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a dream after all, which means ...
Neither was the shock of lightning that split the sky on my way down, or the awful sound that followed. Like the whole world rumbled and shook.
