Morax’s face goes from calm and unaffected to furious in a single millisecond. He takes a threatening step toward Satan, but then seems to think better of it. His milky-white snake eyes flash to me, and I see the realization dawn on him that Lucifer has expertly herded him too far away from me for him to make a grab and run.
Thankfully, I can sense movement returning to my limbs too, so whatever Morax did is wearing off.
“Off you go now, Ophidian. This is once again a game you simply cannot win. Run while you can, because you’re officially being hunted by the wings of Heaven and Hell...and now you have no army,” Lucifer coos at him like it’s just the saddest thing he’s ever heard. Meanwhile, his eyes scream when I find you again, you’re going to wish I never had.
“I’ll see you soon, Little One,” Morax aims at me, the look in his eyes making my blood run cold. “The Adversary isn’t always watching like you think.”
With that, Morax’s mud-colored wings rocket him up into the sky, and he quickly disappears. I can’t track where he goes, and I’m surprised that he doesn’t aim for the mausoleum portal and what remains of the demons who retreated from the fight.
“Niece!” Lucifer commands, pulling my focus back to him. “Taz is going to pass out when I give him back his shell. As soon as he wakes, tell him I need him in Nihil. And tell Nefta to stop fucking around and explain what you are,” he orders. “I’ll see you soon. Hopefully with good news.”
Lucifer winks at me, using Tazreel’s eye, and then a shudder goes through him. Just like that, Lucifer leaves Tazreel’s body, and he collapses to the ground, out cold. I stare at him on the blood-soaked ground, and then my eyes track over to Nefta who’s still lying at the base of the cracked tree. I see my Guardians making small, jerky movements, trying to fight off the last of the power that Morax used on us.
Everything around me is silent, like even the crickets and wind are reeling too much to dare make a sound. My body regains control, but I remain frozen, just standing there as I try to make sense of it all.
I can’t.
I have no idea what in the name of Hell just happened.
23
Jerif lays Tazreel’s body gently on the fainting couch, while Iceman places Nefta on a larger sofa that’s been angled toward the lit fireplace. I recognize the room we’re in from my first night in the mansion. I woke up on the very same fainting couch after Iceman paused me against my will. Yeah, maybe I was having a slight freak out about the whole demon thing, but still, it was uncouth as fuck.
I study Taz’s oddly serene face, hoping he’ll be waking up from his slumber very soon. I suspect when he does, he won’t be any happier about the whole fainting couch thing than I was.
I look around the room, and my eyes land on the shadow-shrouded corner that I remember Echo walking out of before I had accepted what I was. It’s a strange full circle moment, and I’m not sure exactly how I feel about it.
Really, that shouldn’t come as any surprise though, because I have no fucking clue how I feel about any of this.
Grumpy Lurch is being surprisingly not-hostile about the amount of demon gore that’s being tracked into the house, but he is quick to tell us that Nefta and Taz will wake in time when they’re healed, and that he’ll keep a close eye on them while the rest of us clean up.
I’m in a bathroom in a blink with no recollection of how I got there, because my body is just moving on autopilot. I strip out of my clothes and step into the warm spray of a shower, like I’ve activated zombie mode. I couldn’t tell you if I scrub myself or if someone else does it for me, because I can’t seem to focus on anything other than replaying tonight’s cluster fuck of events over and over again and the answers I received—answers that just form more questions.
The Ophidian.
The realm he created.
What I am.
It all just plays on a loop right alongside every second of the battle, and I can’t seem to escape from it all.
Is Morax a God? How else could he have created another realm? I thought only Gods could do that. But if he is, then why would he need me? Shit, am I God? I snort at that, because now I’m just sounding like Tazreel in all his arrogant glory.
I replay his confessions in my mind. No, this isn’t about existing Gods. This is about Morax wanting to become one. Dude has a serious God complex.
So now what?
I try to answer that question repeatedly, but nothing I put together feels right or safe. There’s too much that I’m missing, and I need Nefta to wake the fuck up and fill in the missing pieces.
Still lost in the recesses of my mind, I’m lurched back into the present when pain suddenly ricochets through me. Shock wrenches from my lips as I surface from my deep pool of thought with a screech. I come to with Iceman’s hands on my broken wing, soothing the now straight line where he reset the bone. I Lamaze-breathe through the rebounding pain, tears dripping freely down my cheeks.
Fuck, that hurt.
“Warn a girl next time!” I growl at him between clenched teeth.
“We did. It’s not our fault you went all unresponsive on
