“And that’s exactly why we need to talk.”
We strode into Blackchapel, following Melisande’s perfume to the parlor. She had the big Nephilim stretched out on a velveteen couch, and was already crouched next to him, her hands on his leg and glowing with white fire.
I jerked my head at the balcony. “Give them space. She has it under control.”
Lucifer sat on the balustrade, watching Melisande heal Tascius. If he was jealous, he didn’t show it, but his face was hard. “Her magic recognizes us.”
“Yes.” I leaned back, trying to seem at ease even if every cell in my body was drawn to the pulsing power in her hands. I felt it even from across the room, a steady, pulsing drumming like a heartbeat. “She feels at ease with us all. If any one of us became her enemy, she’d be fucked.”
“I don’t want to teach her to fear me,” Lucifer said softly. “She has nothing to fear from me. I would never be her enemy.”
I glanced at him. “You can’t be sure.”
“I can, and I am.” He glared back, a warning in his silver eyes. “I intend to mark her as mine.”
My mouth watered at the thought of putting my own mark on her. She had no idea how close she’d come to me losing all control and burning a brand into her.
It was the little bit of me that cared for free will that had held me back. She would do it consciously and in good faith of what it meant, or not at all.
“Do you really trust her?” I asked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” But Lucifer had gone still, his eyes still fixed on the angel healing the Nephilim.
“You’ve seen the marks on her palm. They were there the night Belial brought her in and bonded to her, which means they were there when she fell.”
His jaw tightened. “You think they’re why she fell.”
“I do.”
Lucifer blew out a sigh. “And what’s your theory? You always have a damn pet theory, Azazel.”
“Where else have you seen that pattern, Morningstar? Think back a few millennia.” I knew he had the same suspicions I did. She was one of Gabriel’s, and if there was one thing I knew Gabriel was capable of, it was sacrificing one of his own to get closer to the heart of Hell.
Another thing I knew: Melisande wasn’t capable of pretending her attachment. Her magic responded to us. Whatever she’d been sent for, her feelings for us were real.
No matter why she’d fallen, Gabriel had made a mistake in giving her up. He would never have her back.
“On the Sword of Light.” His words were so quiet, I almost didn’t catch them.
“Yes. She touched it, but she didn’t die. Touching the Sword alone isn’t enough of a sin to break her halo. I believe she was telling the truth: Gabriel cast her out for it.”
Lucifer looked at me, tearing his eyes away from her reluctantly. “So what’s the problem? She wants the same thing we want. If she survived touching the Sword, all the better, because we need it if we’re going to kill my father.”
“My problem is how hard she fell.” I felt like snapping, but managed to keep my calm. “She’s only been here for months, and she’s made Hell her home completely.”
“She’s had us to ease the transition.”
She had. Without us, she might’ve survived by sheer force of will alone, but she wouldn’t have been happy about it.
“So she has. But she’s proven to be as cunning as a demon when she has a goal in mind.”
For once, I found myself at a loss of words, unable to articulate what I really thought. She was cunning and dangerous. Both of these qualities made me like her more, not less.
I trusted Melisande enough to mark her, and for the first time in millennia, I felt something I’d thought I was immune to: vulnerability.
I’d never marked someone before. When I finally did, I intended it to last as long as I lived.
If Melisande kept falling, weaving herself into the tapestry of Hell, she might not feel the same way.
Lucifer pushed himself off the balustrade, his eyes peering right through me. “Ah, I see now.”
“Don’t teach your teacher, Morningstar.”
He shook his head. “You’ve closed yourself off to relationships for so long you no longer see what’s right in front of you. You think they’re something to be held at arm’s length, and now you’re coming up with excuses for why you should push her back.”
I just stared at him stonily.
Lucifer and his fucking intuition. He’d been a pain in the ass when he was still my student, too.
“Well, you can come up with excuses all night and all day for why you should push her away. ‘She touched the Sword’, ‘she was Gabriel’s student’, ‘she’s adjusted to Hell too quickly’,” Lucifer said. He advanced on me, lowering his voice. “Excuses are all they are. How can we expect her to trust in us if we don’t trust in her? If she wants to know that I’m the only thing standing between her and Satan, she gets to know. If she wants to tell me why Gabriel pushed her, she’ll tell us. Trust is a two-way street, Azazel.”
He strode back towards the parlor, but paused and turned back.
“I don’t care what she did to fall. I’ll ally with anyone to keep her safe. My only advice to you is to let yourself out of the tomb you’ve locked yourself in. No one blames you for what you are now. Anyone who loves Vyra would get down and thank you for your sacrifice.” Lucifer’s lips tightened. “You’re only punishing yourself now, and you’ll end up alone for all the millennia after this if you find reasons to be suspicious of anyone you might possibly care for.”
He turned on his heel and drifted closer to Melisande, who was sitting up. The color had come back to my adopted Nephilim’s face, and he pulled the angel
