Page 25 of Lucifer's Redemption

Toward the end of our game, the room was mostly cleared of all the laundry, and it looked so much better. We were down to one sock, and it was my turn to ask a question.

“Better be a good one; you know almost everything about me.” Loki threw a smile at me.

“I don’t think that’s true. I bet there is more to you than trivial questions like these.”

“Easy there, dollface, wouldn’t want you to choke on that sentence.”

“Choke? On words?” I tilted my head.

Sometimes I think Loki is smarter than me, and he is so much younger.

“Forget it. What’s your question?”

“Oh, yes. I wanted to know, what did you mean when you said, ‘that nanny wanted to get in Lucifer’s pants?’”

Loki dropped the model car he was holding only to look up, not at me but Lucifer standing in the doorway.

“Oops!” I squeaked, realizing I just hit Luci with the dirty sock. Hi, Luci!” I waved.

Chapter 10

Lucifer

AftertenminutesofMichael arguing with Hera—which could be heard from down the hallway, mind you—I left my seat, unable to tolerate hearing them and listen to the bickering between Athena and Ares too. They were at opposite ends of the spectrum, intelligence-wise, especially on the topic of relationships, and no one was getting anywhere with their discussions.

I followed my body. I didn’t think of where to go or what to do; for the first time in my life, I let my body flow with its surroundings. I went down the hallway and noticed that the paintings on the walls were lighter. The servants were chuckling and nudging each other as I passed. The smiles I had never seen—or maybe never paid attention to—had me doing double-takes down the hall.

Of course, once they realized I was staring, they busied themselves with their work rather than provoke my heated gaze.

My feet landed right outside Loki’s door. Giggling and slight taps on the door intrigued me.

What could the God of Mischief and the Goddess of Innocence be doing in there?

Deciding it could be nothing good, I opened the door without knocking, and the thick air of tension knocked me in the face, along with a crusty sock.

“Oops!” A squeak came from the corner.

Loki, half jumping on the bed, dropped one of his toys on the bedroom floor.

“Hi, Luci!” Uriel frantically waved as I pulled the dirty laundry from my face. Looking down at it and back to Uriel, her lips were parted wide, showing off her perfectly straight teeth.

Slapping her hands to her mouth, she looked at Loki, either for protection or for the reading of the room, because right now, my face had not changed in the slightest.

“Don’t call him that,” Loki hissed at her.

Her face filled with embarrassment, tinging her cheeks pink. “W-why not?” She whispered back. Her wings no longer fluttered around in excitement.

“He doesn’t like it,” he whispered back. “Only Mom can call him that.”

Her mouth was in the shape of an ‘O,’ as she looked down at the floor, studying her toes. “I’m sor—” Clearing my throat, I stopped her from apologizing.

I felt the black sludge tearing up my insides; I wanted to cut the air off from Loki’s lungs for upsetting Uriel.

She did not know, and hell, she wasn’t doing it out of spite. It was her own nickname that she had given me, not one she heard before.

“It’s alright, Uriel.” Uriel stilled, her wings no longer drooping, but insanely still. Her heartbeat rose as I walked to her, my feet parting the junk, allowing the carpet to cushion my leather shoes. “You can call me that if you wish.”

Loki’s mouth bobbed like a fish, raising his hand to point at me, his pointy finger shaking with fright. “She’s y-y-your—”

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