AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Michael shook his head. “I’m aware of who’s at fault, Aria. It doesn’t mean you’re completely blameless.”
I almost snapped at him for that. Aria gripped my hand tightly—I didn’t know if she was trying to anchor herself or me, but her hand in mine was enough to remind me of what was at stake. I was letting my emotions get the better of me recently, and that could be dangerous if I lashed out at the wrong person.
For example, Michael the Archangel, right hand ofHim.
“If Lucifer isn’t here to help us, are you, then?” Aria asked, her voice tight.
“Unfortunately, I’ve already utilized my one chance to help you directly,” he explained. His eyes hadn’t left me, even as he spoke. “You can thank me for keeping you alive, Sariel Ambrose, by getting rid of your father permanently.”
I bristled at the implication.
A memory resurfaced with a vengeance like it was the most obvious thing to be remembered. That cell, when I thought I was going to die, those seconds of scorching heat and a deep voice telling me they couldn’t let me die…
“It was you,” I whispered. Aria glanced at me curiously. “You’re the one who saved me.”
“Yes, well,” he shrugged, eyes flickering to Aria briefly. “If I had intervened any other way, I might have irreversibly altered His plans.”
“And you’re sure it wasn’t His plan for the Ambrose bastard to die?” Lucifer mocked. Then, he snapped his fingers and dramatically palmed his forehead. “Oh, but of course! I forgot who I was speaking to—God’s little lapdog.”
“Lucifer—”
“Allow me,” he interrupted Michael, standing with a flourish.
The room vanished before us. I caught Aria before she fell as the chairs, table, walls, and even Lucifer’s perfect suit went away. We were now standing at the top of a hill overlooking an overgrown meadow, where two young boys raced each other to the bottom.
“Those two little menaces frolicking in that overgrown, snake-riddled meadow are him and I,” Lucifer announced. He now donned a blood-red, three-piece suit with ridiculously expensive-looking shoes and silk pocket kerchief to match. “We used to be best friends—”
He was cut off by Michael reaching out with one hand and…curling his fingersinto the sky itself. He tore through Lucifer's illusion like it was nothing but a flimsy sheet of paper.
“We don’t have time for your overdramatic storytelling,” Michael said, sighing. Lucifer glared at him. “Aria cannot play whatever game you want to make of her life. He has big plans for them both, and her soul cannot be bargained for.”
“Anythingcan be bargained for, Michael,” Lucifer crooned. I realized that this must be Lucifer’s actual throne room when he spun, his suit dissolving into a heavy, velvet robe that hung down his back, then glided up the stairs after him as he climbed the dais. “Even you know that.”
Michael ignored him, instead facing Aria. “You will always have free choice,” he said, not an ounce of gentleness in his tone. “If you choose Hell, there will be no way you can leave. No loophole. No escape. Hell will be the end of your peace.”
Aria was overwhelmed. I didn’t have to tap into the stream of confusion, anxiety, and stress flooding our bond to know that. Her teeth were pressed into her bottom lip, a nervous tic she’d developed only recently. Her fingers twitched as she tapped her thigh, and she shifted from one foot to the next.
This was too much for her.
I know you want to meet your parents, babe,I started gently,but would they want you to sacrifice your peace to do it?
She stilled at my words, lips pressing into a harsh line as she glanced at Lucifer.
He was smug. I felt like he wouldn’t care even if Aria handed her soul over to him on a proverbial silver platter because he now had a plan. There was no doubt about it—they were underplaying something. We were missing a vital part of this whole thing.
I narrowed my eyes as Aria shifted closer to me.
“I can guarantee that Heaven cannot produce anything Hell can’t,” Lucifer said, reclining on his throne, which was an iron monstrosity made of melted skulls, their faces frozen in terror, ecstasy, or despair.
Also, he was shirtless.
I hated him even more now than I did before.
Those muscles in his abdomen flexed and relaxed with each of his movements as he strived to get comfortable on his throne. A scar ran the length of him, going from the base of his throat and disappearing into the waistband of his pants. I felt a smattering of satisfaction light in the pit of my stomach at the idea of someone permanently scarring him.
“You’ll be comfortable here,” he continued. “Besides, you’ll have favor with Hell’s King—what could you possibly want for?”
Aria cocked her head to the side. “I thought the favor would be getting to meet my parents?”
