Lucifer

The stench of sulphur and dark magic hangs heavy in the air as Dare and I pick our way through the smouldering remains of what was once a cosy townhouse. Now it's a grotesque shell, the walls blackened and buckled; the roof caved in. The unmistakable taint of demonic energy clings to every surface.

Another attack. Another family slaughtered. My jaw clenches so hard it aches.

Beside me, Dare picks his way through the rubble, his face grim. "They're getting bolder," he says, echoing my own thoughts. "This is the third attack in less than thirty-six hours. Some of these attacks have been...particularly vicious."

My jaw clenches. The Hellbound have always been ruthless, but lately their brutality seems to have reached new heights. It's as if they're working themselves into a frenzy, building towards something big. But what? We've not been able to find any hints to another seal revealing itself or becoming active.

We've been on the move for over twenty-four hours now, ever since Dare interrupted me with Cass in the training room. By the time we were finished examining the previous attack, we barely made it halfway back to headquarters before reports came in about this one.

I hate how I had to leave Cass after our argument. The look on her face at my refusal to continue our deal still haunts me. Hurt, anger, a glimmer of something terrifyingly close to the same hunger I feel when I look at her. Has my dark need infected her already? Are the broken parts of my soul threading through hers, dragging her down with me?

Dare's shout drags me from my brooding. Standing in what was once a bedroom, he's staring at the remains of a young woman, probably around the same age as Cass. Lying in the dusty, broken bed, she is nothing but a lifeless shell. Her body drained of both her blood and her soul. Eyes stare unseeingly at the ceiling.

"Is she alive?" Her dark hair reminds me of Cass, and I can't help but wonder if she was left here on purpose. A sick message from Azazel.

"No." Dare shakes his head. "They took too much of her blood. She looks strangely uninjured considering the state of the house."

"She's been left for us." A sick feeling rises in my throat. Azazel's cruelty knows no bounds. He delights in destruction, in the suffering of the innocent. He may have been an archangel once, but he's become a twisted mockery of everything we once stood for.

Unbidden, my thoughts return to Cass. Her fierce beauty, her stubborn bravery. The way her soul sings to me, tempting me with its siren call. She was so willing to risk herself for the chance of protecting her sisters. But I can't do it. Can't risk her life simply to access my powers.

Then I see it. A flash of colour amidst the grey ash and dust. I bend down, my fingers closing around a small rectangular object. It's a photo, miraculously untouched by the destruction around it. My blood turns cold when I turn it over.

It's Cass.

A candid shot, taken without her knowledge as she walks down a city street. She's smiling at something off-camera, oblivious to the lens trained on her like a sniper's scope. This is no coincidence. It's a message. Azazel left this here for me to find. He's taunting me, letting me know Cass is in his sights.

"What the fuck?" Dare's voice is tight with anger and unease. "Why would this be here? Fucking Azazel. Always with the creepy shit."

Rage and dread churn in my gut, and I feel the first stirrings of panic. How long has he been watching her? How much does he know?

"Luce." Dare's hand on my shoulder startles me. "We need to go. The humans will be here soon to investigate. There's nothing we can do for these poor souls."

I nod, my throat too tight for words. Tucking the photo into my pocket, I follow Dare out of the ruined house, stepping out into the cold London evening. The city is just beginning to wind down for the night, oblivious to the war being waged in its shadows.

Solitude. I need to think. To plan my next move in this deadly game Azazel insists on playing. Leaving Dare behind to touch base with our fellow Forsaken, I walk off to clear my head. My feet carry me to a nearby restaurant. The same one where Cass and I shared our first "date." Is its proximity a coincidence, or did Azazel choose the location of the attack because of it?

Ordering a coffee I won't drink, I sit by the window, staring sightlessly at the passersby as my mind whirls. I pull out the photo of Cass, tracing the curve of her smile with my gaze.

What is Azazel playing at? What message is he trying to send? That he can get to her any time, anywhere? That he knows my weakness, the chink in my armour?

The chair across from me scrapes against the floor, and I look up. My stomach plummets. Azazel slides into the seat, a smirk playing about his cruel mouth.

"Well, isn't this cosy? Perfect for a first date, don't you think?"

I don't bother with pleasantries. "What do you want, Azazel?"

"I must say, Lucifer, you have excellent taste." Before I can stop him, he plucks the photo from my fingers. "She is exquisite, isn't she? All that power, all that light. I'm going to enjoy breaking her."

White-hot fury sears through me. It's all I can do not to lunge across the table and tear his throat out. "If you touch her—"

He laughs, a sound like shattering glass. "Oh, I'll do more than touch her, old friend. I'll make her scream and beg and bleed. And then I'll use her to bring this whole wretched world to its knees."

Red tinges the edges of my vision. I can feel my power surging, begging to be let loose. But I can't. Not here. "I won't let you have her."

With a scoff, he tosses the photo back at me. "Please. You're barely clinging to your own power. You're weak, Lucifer. Made soft by your affection for these mewling mortals. But not to worry..." His eyes glitter with malice. "I'll put your little Seraphim to good use. Drain her dry and leave her a pretty, broken husk."

My hands fist so tight my nails draw blood. I want to roar my defiance, to unleash the full force of my wrath upon him. If only we were somewhere else. There are too many innocent mortals here.

He sees the struggle on my face and his smirk widens. "So noble. So restrained. It will be your undoing."

Standing up, he straightens his immaculate suit. "Well, this has been fun, but I really must be going. Places to go, seals to break. You know how it is."

When he walks away, he pauses. "Oh, and Lucifer? Give my regards to Cassandra. I'll be seeing her very soon."

As he turns to leave, he flicks his wrist.

There's a moment of silence and I feel his power unfurl, dark and noxious.

An instant later, the restaurant erupts into pandemonium as people are thrown back by an invisible force. Windows shatter, spraying glass like deadly rain. Tables and chairs topple, splintering like kindling. Screams of pain and fear pierce the air as patrons are flung about like rag dolls.

I'm on my feet in an instant. With a surge of power, I cast a shield over the humans, deflecting debris and absorbing the worst of the damage. I knit flesh and bone, stanch bleeding, soothe the ragged edges of my own essence over shattered minds, making sure they don't remember me or Azazel.

It's gruelling, thankless work. By the time the last injury is healed, the last mortal calmed and released, I'm exhausted.

I've pushed myself to the brink, drained my reserves to a trickle. Pushing any further risks the collapse of the protective walls I've constructed—makeshift barriers to keep the damage of my soul from slipping into my consciousness.

Standing outside the restaurant as sirens wail in the distance and mortals cry around me, comforting each other as they believe a bomb went off but no one was seriously injured, I sway on my feet, my vision blurring at the edges.

A strong hand grips my elbow, steadying me, and I turn to see Dare, worry etched into every line of his face. "You look like hell," he says bluntly. "What happened?"

"Azazel." The name tastes like poison on my tongue. "He came to see me. He's going after Cass."

Dare sucks in a sharp breath. "Fuck. We need to warn her, increase security... Maybe move her and her sisters to a safe house—"

I'm already shaking my head. "It won't matter. Nowhere is safe. I'd rather keep them close. He's toying with us, Dare."

Azazel's threat echoes in my mind, a constant, terrifying refrain. He's going to hurt Cass. Use her, break her, destroy her.

Unless I stop him.

"So, what are you going to do?"

Isn't that the question? I feel torn in two, caught between the ruthless calculations of war and the bone-deep need to keep Cass safe at any cost. But who is more dangerous to her? Me or Azazel?

"If I'm to stand against Azazel, I need to be at the height of my power." I rake a hand through my hair, noting the faint lines across the skin by my knuckles. I'm close to being depleted and have to be careful. "Whatever he's planning is big. To have any hope of keeping Cass and her sisters safe..."

"You need to skim from Cass," Dare finishes for me. "A regular mortal won't be enough without taking more than they can handle."

"But Cass is still mortal." I drag a hand over my face. Every movement is hard as exhaustion weighs me down. "The risk to her if I skim..."

Dare is quiet for a long moment. He knows my fears. Knows the toll it took on me in the past. Knows why I keep such a tight leash on myself.

"I think Cass is stronger than you believe," he says at last, his voice carefully neutral. "And you are too. You can control it. Make sure you don't take more than she can handle."

"Can I?" The question is bitter, like wormwood on my tongue. "Skimming from her is different. It happens the moment I touch her. How can I be sure I won't hurt her?"

"You can't." His reply is like a slap in the face. "But what choice do you have? Azazel is coming for her and her sisters. We need to be ready."

As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. I can only keep Cass safe if I'm strong enough to go head-to-head with Azazel. Skimming from her is the only way. The idea of touching her again is both terrifying and thrilling. There is a yawning, cavernous need in me that demands I claim her as mine.

It terrifies me, this want. This weakness. But it is mine, and I will master it.

For Cass, I will risk anything. Even my own broken, bruised soul.

Dare studies me for a long moment, searching my face for something, some sign or tell. In my weary state, I suspect he could hear every single thought if he tried.

"All right," he says. "Let's get back home. You need to rest before you collapse, and I sure as hell am not carrying you home."

A quiet chuckle escapes me. I appreciate him making me relax. "You would leave me on the street? What kind of friend are you?"

"The kind you deserve."

We both smile, even if it doesn't quite reach our eyes. It's been a difficult few days. We could all do with some good news by now, but it doesn't seem likely.

The drive back to Morningstar Enterprises is a blur, my mind consumed by exhaustion. By the time I reach the penthouse, the first rays of dawn glow on the horizon, and I'm painfully near my limit.

I take a quick shower, washing off the blood and grime of the last few hours. Running on fumes, I barely make it to my bed before I collapse on top of it.

Despite my exhaustion, I can't stop the thoughts whirling in my head. I remember Azazel's cruel smile, the glee in his eyes as he threatened Cass. I remember the terror and pain I saw in that restaurant, of the lives I nearly couldn't save. And I think of Cass.

Brave, stubborn, beautiful Cass.

I won't let Azazel take her. I won't let him win. Even if it means facing my darkest fears.

The crumpled photo of Cass lies on the bed from when I emptied my pockets earlier, and I grab it, smoothing it with my hands. She smiles up at me, guileless and radiant, a bright flame against the shadows.

My fist clamps around the photo as painful convulsions wrack my body. Fuck. I'm running too low. The wall is crumbling, letting trickles of white-hot pain through my defences. Using what little powers I have left, I patch the dam before it can overwhelm me completely, shutting the agony away once again.

I will keep Cass safe. Whatever it takes. Whatever the cost.