Page 65 of Sorrow & Strangers

“No,” I answer simply.

“But he’s giving gifts?”

“No.”

I can practically feel Alice’s smirk as I bristle, but for reasons known only to herself, she turns her attention back to Rafe, and I continue trying to read.

“So what does it say about our demon baby?” she asks a bit later, after getting bored scrolling on her phone.

“We need to get more brimstone,” I say, flipping the page.

“From where? We’ll need a steady supply.”

“I still have to work that part out,” I say, my stomach curdling with the truth. With every page I read, it’s becoming clearer how vital it is to make this process as easy as possible.

“What did Uriel and Farrah say?” she asks, and I close the book. Usually this type of questioning is a sign of anxiety from her, and when I look at her, I know I am right. Her eyes are shining with concern, and she is picking at her nails.

“They’re just very relieved.”

“Even though he’s . . . you know?”

I look at Rafe, thinking of the centuries-long battle between Heaven and Hell, the ongoing war, and the tension. “I’m not sure it was a complete surprise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rafe has always been different.” He has always been uncomfortable in his own skin, and his family has long been aware of his struggles.

“But Fallen different?”

I shrug.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Alice asks.

“What?”

“Your eyes. You look shifty.”

“I don’t know, Al. I’ll need to talk to the Morningstars.” I have a faint memory of reading about prophecies in a different textbook. Many of them are bogus, but some rang true. I can’t remember enough for me to be ready to delve too deeply into it quite yet, not when Rafe has just Fallen, and it might not apply. I’m not even sure where the memory came from, but it appeared when I was reading about the King of Hell and his elusive wife.

“Okay, Sum . . .” Alice says, still sounding unconvinced, but she doesn’t push it. Instead, she reaches out and rubs the small nubs on the top of Rafe’s head. “Look at his tiny baby horns.”

“You know, angel never really suited him,” I say, my lips twitching as Rafe’s nose wrinkles even in his sleep at the unfamiliar sensation.

“I couldn’t agree more,” a dark voice, thick with arrogance, echoes from the corner of the room. A dark energy permeates the air, sliding stealthily over each of us as if determining if we are prey. My eyes snap to the tall, shadowy figure standing in the doorway.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Summer

The figure solidifies and stands before us, his lips curved in a wicked grin. I don’t need him to step into the light to know exactly who I’m facing. This is what I have been dreading since the previous night. Lucifer has arrived to take his nephew.

Lucifer steps forward, and I am shocked to see the strong familial resemblance not only to Rafe but also to Uriel. For some reason, I expected the King of Hell to look different.

He has the same facial structure as Uriel, the same wise eyes. They are like two sides of the same coin, Uriel the light, and this male before me, the dark. It’s reminiscent of how Connor and Rafe looked when they stood next to each other, and the thought fractures my heart.

Lucifer’s skin is paler than Rafe’s, lacking Farrah’s stunning genetics. He is tall and lean. While he is slimmer than Uriel, I can sense there is still extraordinary strength present beneath his dark jacket.

A menacing aura oozes from him, practically suffocating me. His dark eyes are trained on Rafe as he idly flips a piece of gold in his hand. He is silent for a moment, and then his gaze settles on me.