Page 203 of Wicked Believer
I scramble to my feet, desperately searching around myself like I might find some way to get to her.
But there’s nothing.
Azrael’s at my side a moment later, gripping the sides of my face with both hands as he kisses me. The feel of his lips on mine calms me. Helps me find my center.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe now,” he whispers against me.
And it’s only then I realize I’m trembling.
“Jax. Ian. He—”
“I know,” he says, holding me tight, refusing to let me go. “I know, baby girl.”
And the Holy Lance. Michael.
“Lucifer.”
A fresh round of panic shoots through me.
Azrael pulls me into his chest, cradling my head to keep me from trembling. “He’ll be fine. He always is,” he whispers feverishly.
My thoughts take a dark turn as I survey Lucifer’s office. It’s completely unchanged. Though my entire world has just been knocked on its side.
“We’ll find her,” Azrael says, knowing exactly what I need to hear. “You have my word.”
I nod weakly, still in shock. I’m uncertain if there’s anything else I can do at this point.
I can’t face Lilith on my own. Even if I knew how to find her.
I was a fool to think I could.
“You savedmethis time.” Azrael tips my chin toward him, the intensity in his eyes softening. Like he can see I need the reassurance that I didn’t totally fuck this whole thing up.
“Can you even die?” I ask, my voice hoarse and thready.
He tilts his head from side to side as if to say more or less. “In a matter of speaking. But it takes a lot to destroy me.”
“A lot meaning someone like Lilith?”
“Mm-hmm.”
The image of her furious tears comes to mind, making my knees feel weak.
No wonder Lucifer asked Azrael to protect me.
He’s basically the celestial version of bulletproof.
“Do you think Lucifer will manage to—?”
“Get the blade?” Azrael finishes.
I nod meekly.
“I don’t know.”
Slowly, I ease away from Azrael, turning to look out the window as I consider Jax’s fate. I have to believe Lucifer will help me save her, that he’ll do whatever it takes. “What was Lilith talking about when she said I should ask you what the end of God would mean?” I whisper, despite my hands still shaking.
Azrael scowls, like the idea of sharing that makes him uncomfortable, but still, he answers me. More readily than Lucifer ever would. “God put a little of Himself into all of you. Human souls are contingent upon His existence, which means if He’s destroyed, then ...”
