Devilish Mate

5

I fought off a pang of disappointment that a pair of silver wings could change so much between us. “I’ll gladly accept your protection, but I could really use a friend,” I confessed.

“I don’t make friends with angels.” Zel stalked toward the yellow convertible. “Is this our ride? Not bad. I’ll drive. We all know angels are useless after dark, and you look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up.”

She wasn’t wrong. I tossed her the keys with a yawn. “Thanks.”

“Where to, little mortal?” She threw open the car door and then paused. “Hmm, I suppose I can’t call you that anymore.”

I opened the small trunk and threw my bag inside. “San Francisco.”

“Long drive.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “We’ll switch once the sun comes up.”

I nodded as I sank into the leather seat on the passenger side. As she started up the car and drove us out of the parking structure, I wadded up my jacket as best I could to make a pillow, then leaned against the door of the car and closed my eyes. Four hours was definitely not enough sleep after what happened last night, but I had to find answers.

Yet as I closed my eyes and willed myself to get some rest, sleep proved elusive. My thoughts were too wild and chaotic, too full of questions that had no answers and memories that only brought pain. I could barely grasp my head around the fact that I was an angel now, that I’d died and been reborn again, and that everything I thought I’d known about my life so far was wrong.

I’d only been away from home for a little over a week, but already my flower shop seemed like a distant memory. In that short time, I’d learned about the supernatural world and that I was part of it. First I’d learned I was Lucifer’s mate, cursed to die and be reborn in an endless cycle. I was Eve, and Persephone, and Lenore, and many others whose names had long been lost. But now I’d also learned I was an angel. Not Hannah. Haniel. My entire identity had been swept away and replaced in a matter of days.

And Lucifer had killed me.

Maybe for good reason, but not with enough surety that I’d be resurrected. Not nearly enough. He had assumed the angels could bring me back, but what if it had failed? I should have been given a choice in the matter at least, but he took that away from me. He made the decision to break the curse on his own, acting like the big arrogant king he was, and now we both had to live with his terrible crime for the rest of our lives. Our immortal lives.

As an angel, I wouldn’t age. That was a huge shock right there. Of course, with the curse broken—if it really was broken—this was also my last life. I thought I’d feel relieved about that, and yet it sent a trickle of fear down my spine. If Gadreel—who we now knew was Adam reincarnated—killed me again, that would be it for me. A final death.

Of course, with the curse broken it also meant we could kill him too. For good this time.

I sure as hell hoped he could be killed anyway. I had memories flickering in my head of Adam in numerous incarnations, and all the times he’d murdered me. Even in lives Lucifer never knew about, where Adam found me as a child. I shuddered especially hard at those memories and all the wretched, disgusting things he’d done. That monster had to be stopped.

I had no idea where he was now though. He’d taken off after stealing Samael’s ancient journals from Lucifer, which sounded like it was going to be a problem, though I wasn’t sure how exactly. I shoved the missing journals out of my mind—I’d leave that one to Lucifer. I had more immediate problems to deal with. Like confronting my sister and figuring out who the f**k I was.

Adam would find me eventually though. He always did. But this time I would be ready for him.

While Zel cruised down the freeway at breakneck speed, I adjusted my makeshift pillow and tried to get comfortable. Lamborghinis were sexy little cars, but not exactly designed for one to sleep inside. Not that the car was the real problem. No, the problem was that I couldn’t get my mind to turn off. Over and over the moment of my death played through my head on repeat, like a bad horror movie I couldn’t turn off. Sometimes other images broke through from my past lives, just to fuel my anxiety. Some were memories of other times I’d fought with Lucifer in the past, like my brain couldn’t help but drag up the worst things to torment me with.

Dammit. Focusing on the past wouldn’t help me get answers now. I forced myself not to care about Lucifer, not to even think about him. I focused on slowing my breathing in an attempt to calm down. I wouldn’t achieve anything by allowing my frustration to overtake me. And what I needed more than anything was rest.

Sleep sank its claws into me eventually, but just before it claimed me completely, another face flickered in my mind of one of the men who’d been there tonight when I’d been resurrected. Dark hair. Green eyes. Lucifer’s smile. I’d seen him at the Devil’s Night Ball too. My heart clenched at the thought, and something about him spoke to me on an almost cellular level. He was important to me somehow, but I had no idea why. The memories were too tangled, and they wouldn’t obey my commands yet. They came and went as they pleased, even as I sought desperately for one involving this man.

Finally, a name came to me as I succumbed to sleep. Kassiel.

Who was he?