Extraits

“Bow,” Lucifer ordered. “Bow before your true Lord and Savior.”

None of us moved.

Or bowed.

We all stared at him, which probably meant we were seconds away from being brutally murdered in really horrific ways.

Lucifer clapped his hands together, causing me to give a little jump. “I’m just kidding.” He chuckled, and the sound was like dark chocolate, smooth and sinful. “So, I’m told I’m needed to save the world.”

"Then what am I supposed to call you ?" I shouted. "Jackass?"

One side of his lips kicked up. "You may call me death. How does that sound?"

A whole lot of fear blasted through my system, but I hid it. "How does that sound? It sounds pretty stupid."

“My brother didn’t crap himself,” Lucifer said, and my hands balled into fists. Of course he didn’t listen to me. He came to stand to my left. “Yet.”

“That’s your surprise,” I said, feeling like this was so anticlimactic now. “Surprise,” I exclaimed, throwing in jazz hands in the process.

“I do not accept this gift,” Gabriel snarled.

“Too bad,” I said. “No returns or exchanges.”

No one in the room spoke. Not even Cayman. Everyone, including Roth, was transfixed.

“Some say I’m the monster, the nightmare in the dark and the evil hiding in plain sight, but when a child dies needlessly, it is not a life I’ve taken. When a mother takes her last breath due to disease, it is not by my will. When a brother dies senselessly, it is not a part of my plan. Death and war and disease are not my creations. I cannot stop them. I’m not the creator. Right or wrong, at the end of the day, I’m just an opportunist,” Lucifer said. “But what is God? Because at the end of the day, God could take all that pain away. So, tell me, who is the real monster?”

“The father of lies,” Zayne murmured, and I blinked, as if coming out of a daze. “Yeah, God is to blame for everything—the true wolf hiding among the sheep and the other wolves. Sure. I’m also the tooth fairy and you’re not the great manipulator.”

A slow smile crept across Lucifer’s face. “And just think of how many would have heard my words and believed me? Believed my legions?”

I’d gone to use the bathroom, and when I came back, someone—I was going to blame Cayman for this—had turned on Supernatural, to the Lucifer season, and the real one was invested. He’d all but forced Layla to pull up some website to give him a blow-by-blow description of season one through whatever. By the time the food arrived, he was completely caught up. Then he ate. Then he watched two more episodes, a box of Pop-Tarts appearing out of thin air it seemed. At this point, it had to be almost four in the morning. Layla had passed out on the end of the couch and woke up, and I was this close to throwing the TV through a wall.

“God.” I tipped over, plopping my forehead on his shoulder. “I’m—”

“Do not say you’re sorry. You have nothing to apologize for.” He cupped the back of my head. “I survived it. I’m here. I’d go through that a thousand times if necessary.”

“You guys are too cute,” Cayman commented. “I think I’m getting a toothache from all the sweetness.”

“Shut up.” I lifted my head.

Zayne’s hand slid to the nape of my neck as his gaze flicked over my shoulder. “You’re more than welcome to leave.”

“Hell, no. This is better than watching old episodes of The Bachelor.”

« Zayne had caught me.

Where he’d come from or why he was here didn’t matter. He caught me, just like he had before, and that was further evidence he was still in there.

“You saved me,” I gasped. “Again.”

“Did I?”

“Obviously,” I forced out, barely able to breathe through the gust of the cold wind as I looked over my shoulder.

Vivid blue eyes lit by grace met mine. “Huh.”

I started to frown. “What does ‘huh’ mean?”

He veered to the left, out of the path of an imp. “It means this.”

Zayne let go.

He dropped me. »

Te perdre, c'était comme si on me privait d'air avant même que je puisse inspirer.

C'était pire que l'enfer.

– Contente qu’on soit sur la même longueur d’onde.

– Moi aussi, intervint Tony. Parce que ça devenait super pénible.

– Comme la plupart des conversations d’adultes, répliqua la Vénérable. Un jour, tu le comprendras.

– Sérieusement ?

Le petit devin avait l’air offensé. La vieille Vénérable rit doucement.

– Tu n’es pas censé être couché, à ton âge ? lançai-je.

L’enfant fit la moue.

– À vrai dire, si, me dit la Vénérable. Une dernière chose avant de nous séparer, ce que nous devons faire très bientôt car je dois ramener celui-ci à sa mère avant qu’elle pense que je l’ai kidnappé.

– Oh, mon Dieu ! marmonna Tony tout bas. Si tu savais les choses que je pourrais te dire…, fit-il pour tenter de l’amadouer.

– Mais tu n’en feras rien, le coupa-t-elle.

Elle se pencha et, l’espace d’un instant, je craignis qu’elle ne bascule de sa chaise et ne se casse une hanche, un truc comme ça. Au lieu de quoi elle embrassa le devin sur la joue.

Tony leva les yeux au ciel et plissa le nez comme un enfant normal de son âge aurait pu le faire, me semblait-il. Il avait une trace de rouge à lèvres rose vif sur la joue.

Tes larmes me tuent. Elles me tuent.