Page 22 of Give a Devil his Due
But I know.
I will never go home.
My feet will never grace the soil of Heaven, nor will I ever feel the warmth of my father’s light against my skin. Bliss will no longer fill every particle of my being like an embrace so I know my part in these worlds. Now, I’ll just drift like a tumbleweed for as long as I am needed. After that …
In this moment of unbridled emotion, my eyes go to Helena.
Head bowed and forehead pinched, she stares at her feet while she walks. Clumps of hair crusted with demon blood sway around her shoulders, and her face is smudged with streaks of it like war paint. Whatever she couldn’t clean off her skin only adds to the picture she presents. One glance around the others, and it’s clear as day.
I’m not the only one changed because of the female. Nor is Eric unchanged for trespassing Purgatory with me. We have all altered our very essence because of her. And that is when it hits me like a blow to the chest, stealing my breath away. I will no longer see my home, but not for reasons I want to give myself to feed my guilt.
Helenaishome.
For me. For Lucifer’s son, for Satanael, and for the rest of our unlikely party.
What does it all mean?
“I do not think Shadow will appreciate it much if you keep ogling my daughter,” Satanael throws at me conversationally, though he doesn’t take his eyes off the tunnel.
I balk from the offhanded comment. “I do not ogle anyone.” The twitch of his mouth says he hears the defensive tone in my voice. “I do not,” I add firmly.
“If that is what you wish to tell yourself, very well. You do not.” He falls silent after a slow nod of his head.
I glower at the pitch-black space before us.I do not ogle Helena,I state firmly in my head, nodding as well like that will. confirm it—as if it will make his accusation go away.
“Does she know how you feel?” Satanael speaks low enough for our ears only, but that doesn’t stop me from rubbernecking to check over my shoulder to make sure the rest of them are far away from this preposterous conversation. “I suppose not.”
“She is Zadkiel’s daughter.” My snarl makes him grin like a fool. “That is what I feel. Now watch ahead and lead us to whatever you sense in this God-forsaken hole.”
“Whatever you say, Archangel.” When I side-eye him, I see his chest rocking with silent chuckling.
My fists clench at my sides.
“Do you feel it, Raphael?” Eric calls from behind me, and panic short-circuits my senses.
Whirling around, I rush him and point my finger at his face. “I do not feel anything.” Everyone freezes at my feral hiss. “Nothing.” I punctuate it by stabbing the air once more, my fingertip an inch from his nose.
Satanael chuckles.
“If you don’t remove your finger from my face, I will rip it off and shove it so far up your nose you’ll be able to scratch your shriveled brain with it.” Eric’s jaw is set, and he glares at me.
Understanding dawns that he hasn’t heard what Satanael and I said. He is asking if I can sense the light we are searching for, and not anything about what I feel or don’t feel for his mate. Heat spreads from my neck up to my face, festering around my cheekbones. Dropping my hand, I square my shoulders, tugging on my crusted shirt to straighten it primly.
“My apologies.” If Satanael does not stop snickering, I will punch his lights out. “I was focused on it and reacted in a way that was uncalled for. We are not near it yet.”
“Can we do dick-measuring contests later?” Helena shoulders her way between us, pressing a hand on both of our chests. “My legs hurt, and I want to sit down for a moment.” Leaning to the side, she blinks at her father. “Is that okay? We can rest for like ten minutes?”
“We will rest twenty minutes, daughter,” the prick gloats, throwing pointed glances to the side of my head. “We can all use it, it seems. All this tension will do us no good.”
Maybe I can knock him out. I bet no one will hold it against me.
“You two are coming with me.” Helena narrows her eyes on Eric and me before tugging us along with her to the side of the tunnel. After she lowers herself on the ground, she points to either side of her. “Sit. I don’t trust that you won’t bicker like old maids if I don’t keep an eye on you. I have a headache.”
I stiffen.
Eric joins her, not taking his glare off my face while I shuffle my feet like a youngling, uncomfortable and wary. Leave it to Satanael to get inside my head and fill it with nonsense. He doesn’t understand anything about me. About Zadkiel. Why do I care what he thinks, anyway? It is none of his concern what goes through my head, or my heart for that matter.
As soon as I fold myself next to Helena, she sighs and rests her head on my shoulder, one of her hands stretching out to hold Eric’s. My heart thumps hard against my ribcage, stuttering there for a long moment before splattering at my feet.
