Devilish Mate

24

I chuckled softly. “I can’t even imagine. One Lucifer is already enough for me.”

More than enough...and I had a feeling he was going to prove that to me tonight.

12

Hannah

A

fter my lunch with Olivia, I returned to the penthouse and found my nephew waiting at the door, looking like he’d stepped out of some comic book universe, from his broad frame to the muscular arms to the stony blue eyes.

“Hello, Callan,” I said with a smile, eager to get to know more of my family. It was turning out to be much larger than I’d ever realized.

He put his muscular arms around me in an awkward hug, his breath seemingly trapped in his chest at his moment of hesitancy. “I’m not sure what to call you. Aunt Haniel?”

I’d debated going by my former name, once I realized my life as Hannah was a lie, but decided I wasn’t totally Haniel anymore either. It didn’t feel right, taking that name, when I hadn’t been her in forty years. I wasn’t sure who I was anymore, but Brandy and her family knew me as Hannah, so I decided to stick with that. Now I had to reclaim that name from the persona Jophiel had created and take control of this new, final life.

“Just Hannah is fine,” I said. “At times, depending on which memory I’m riding, I don’t really feel any older than you.”

He nodded. “I’m here to train you in angelic combat.”

“That would be great.” I already knew how to fight, of course. I’d taken down gargoyles with Lucifer’s sword, and defeated Gadreel too. But that was more like instinct or muscle memory, and I was nervous it might fail me when I needed it the most. I’d fought in many battles in my previous lives, and hopefully a bit of practice would awaken those memories. I’d need them if I was going to go after Adam again.

The thought of taking him down made my adrenaline race. “Where should we do this?”

“Lucifer’s arranged a room for us to use on the fourth floor.”

I rolled my shoulders. “Awesome. Let me change into some more forgiving clothes, and I’ll meet you there.”

I quickly shoved on leggings and yanked a workout top over my head, then took the elevator to the fourth floor. When I stepped out, Callan was already there, and he led me down a corridor to an empty room clearly designed for sparring. The floors were slightly padded, the ceilings were unusually high, and mirrors lined one of the walls. As Callan shut the door, I also realized the room was sound-proofed.

Callan turned to me with a satisfied nod. “Lots of room so we can fight with our wings out. We’ll work our way up to that though, along with weapons and angelic powers. For now, let’s see what you remember.”

As soon as I turned my head, he was already there with his huge fist swinging toward my face. I ducked and moved before the gasp even escaped my mouth, my muscles reacting instinctively. When he next attacked, I was ready this time, and I used his momentum against him so that I could spin around and kick him from behind.

“Seems like you remember a lot,” he said.

“More than I expected.” I couldn’t help but grin, my blood already pumping from the exertion...and from excitement. It felt like my body and my soul were both waking up, reminding me of who I was—a warrior. I’d shed blood on countless battlefields since the dawn of time. Sure, I was a bit rusty after a forty-year intermission, and I needed to retrain some of those muscles again, but it was all coming back to me.

Callan lunged for me again, and we began sparring in earnest. My back hit the mat more times than I could count, but I kept getting up again. The man was an incredible fighter, and I was so out of practice there was no way I could defeat him. Not yet, anyway.

We both paused when the door opened, and Zel walked through, her face twisted with rage. “What the f**k do you think you’re doing?”

I stepped forward. “It’s okay, Zel. He’s training me.”

After giving Callan a nasty look, she turned her snarl to me. “I should be the one training you. Not some angel.” She practically spat the word. “I’ve known you in most of your previous lives. I’ve fought at your side for centuries. I know your strengths and weaknesses.”

Her words rang with truth inside me, and I remembered us on a battlefield in Heaven, overlooking the c*****e we’d brought to the angels. Azazel stood on my right, my dark avenger and fiercest protector. But on my left there was another woman with red hair, who was both gorgeous and deadly. The one I’d seen in another memory before. I searched for her name, but it eluded me. Who was she? What had happened to her?

Callan’s gruff voice broke me out of the memory. “Hannah needs an angel to train her in angelic combat. Not a demon.”

“Fallen,” Zel corrected. “You forget I was an angel once too. For longer than you’ve been alive.” She stepped forward and spoke through gritted teeth, frustration radiating from her in waves so thick I could almost see them. “I’m thousands of years old. I actually fought in the war, which ended before you were even born. There is nothing I cannot teach her.”

Callan crossed his arms, and I had to give him credit for staring at Zel without backing down. He lifted his chin in a challenge. “Let’s see what you’ve got then, Fallen.”