Page 104 of Bellamy
Alastair appeared as though he wanted to argue but gave her a subtle nod. Then, to Penemuel, he said, “Tread carefully. If I sense even a hint of deception or ill will, I will destroy you.”
“I expect nothing less from the son of Azazel.”
Alastair’s shoulders tensed. Did the mention of his father anger him?
Pain stabbed at the center of my chest, and I slowly exhaled. I felt stronger than I had the day before, but my wound still needed time to heal. Teleporting hadn’t helped.
Bellamy narrowed his eyes and allowed me to lean more of my weight against him. “I told you so” was written all over his face.
The sexy jerk.
It took Clara about five minutes to alter the warding, and then Penemuel was allowed past the barrier. The Nephilim were on edge as we returned to the house. Having known the fallen angel in the past, I doubted he’d try to attack, but nothing I said would help alleviate their tension.
I wasn’t exactly the poster boy for “honest and good intentions” either.
“Before we do shit, I’m cookin’ breakfast,” Raiden said as soon as we walked through the front door.
“I’ll put on some tea.” Alastair excused himself.
Galen, Bellamy, Kyo, Castor, and Mason remained with Penemuel, keeping an eye on him. Simon and Gray had followed Raiden. I stood to the side of everyone, unsure where to put myself.
Bellamy stepped over to me.
“You think we can trust him?” he softly whispered against my ear. His breath on my skin amped up my heart rate—and my arousal. “Stop that.”
No hiding from Lust. I breathed out a laugh. Damn him. “I think if Penemuel wanted to hurt you, he would’ve done so from the shadows, not make himself a target by approaching you.”
“Makes sense. Then again, you always approached us too. And your intentions were never good.”
“To taunt you,” I clarified. “Not to attack. Though… I suppose the Caribbean battle was an exception to that.” One I wasn’t exactly proud of.
“Yeah, you were a dick that day.”
“A big one,” I added.
He smirked. “Eh. I’d say medium-sized at best.”
“Asshole.” I bumped his arm.
The sizzle of bacon came from the kitchen. The kettle whistled as the water came to a boil. Sounds. Smells. All familiar despite the different location. The brothers could make themselves at home anywhere.
“Do you really cure stupidity in humans?” Castor asked.
Penemuel smiled a little. “That’s one way of putting it. I prefer to say I open their minds to the unknown. Literature is such a powerful tool.”
Galen scowled. “A tool for you to corrupt mankind?”
“Once upon a time, yes.” Penemuel gave a sad nod. “Though, that was many years ago. I never enjoyed the act of tainting souls. I believe books should grant us knowledge, teach us lessons, and fuel the imagination, not to harm. But when a line is drawn in the sand and you pick a side, you do what you must to survive.”
“That line being between the celestial realm and Lucifer?” Bellamy asked.
“Yes.” Penemuel tilted his head to the side, as if listening to something. “It seems you’ll have another guest soon.”
Aboomcame from the front yard, sending a slight tremor through the surrounding earth.
“Gods,” Castor said with an eye roll. “Laz always comes in superhero style.”
“Perfect timing,” Alastair said from under the archway leading into the kitchen. “The tea’s ready.”
