He sat across from them. “What was that back there?”
Remy popped open his soda. “Yes. Do tell.”
“Baal,” said Luke with a mouth full of pizza.
Remy gave a low whistle. “Oh man.”
“He talked as if he knew Lily,” Michael said.
Luke stiffened. “When Lily was fresh, she made the mistake of going after Baal when she spotted him with a police commissioner he was corrupting. No—don’t ask who. I’m not telling.” He pushed away his plate, the last slice of pizza untouched. “You never take on a Fallen alone, and especially not Baal.”
He really wanted to know who the commissioner was, but the closed expression on Luke’s face said he wouldn’t get an answer from him. “Why would she do that?”
Remy shrugged. “Because she’s Lily, and believe it or not, what you see today is a toned-down version of what she used to be.” He shook his head, sending dreads into his oval-shaped face. “She was really young when she went after Baal. At seventeen, our Nephilim are ready to fight. She learned the hard way.”
“Seventeen?” He couldn’t believe it. “You guys let kids go out and fight?”
“Our seventeen-year-old Nephilim can kick your ass clear across town.” Luke fiddled with his soda. “Age has nothing to do with fighting the Fallen. She knew better, but…shit, she’s Lily.”
“How old is she now?”
Remy’s lips curved. “Lily’s twenty-six. She accepted the Contract at twenty-two.”
Shit, that girl barely looked twenty-two. “Contract?” When neither man answered, he sighed. What knowledge they had shared about Lily’s previous run-in with Baal was vague, and he was sure they were leaving out details for her sake. “The burn on her arm was from him touching her?”
“Eat something, and I’ll tell you everything.” When Michael complied, Luke leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest. “Baal is one of the most evil bastards you will ever meet. He’s been on Earth since the days of Adam and Eve. His touch, if he wills it, can burn anything.”
Remy gestured at him with his pizza slice. “Rumor has it that when other angels began to fall, Baal burned and ripped the wings from their backs.”
Michael had trouble swallowing the food. “What was he doing there?”
“Apparently he was bored,” stated Luke. “Or he was coming after you. It’s very odd. The Fallen don’t make a habit of getting their hands dirty.”
He, too, pushed away his plate. He had no real appetite. Not after everything that had happened. “Was the other one a…good angel?”
Remy slowly turned to Luke, his expression expectant. “And who would that be?”
“Julian,” muttered Luke.
Remy dropped the slice he was holding. “No shit? You’re serious?”
Luke’s face puckered. “Would I joke about something like that?”
“So who is Julian? What’s the big deal?” Michael asked. “He saved our ass back there.”
“Julian is one of the Fallen,” Luke said. “He fell hundreds of years ago, if not more. He isn’t one of the good guys.”
“That makes no sense. You had said the Fallen were evil. Then why would he help us?”
“He wasn’t helping us.” Luke wrapped his fingers around the empty can of soda. “Julian doesn’t give two shits about us. He was helping Lily.”
That didn’t clear up anything for him.
Remy eyed Luke warily. “He’s like the friendly neighborhood angelic stalker.”
“What?” he spit out.
Remy leaned back and added, “Julian is complicated. He’s helped Lily out a couple of times. The last time Baal got his hands on her, Julian was the one who got her out.”
Luke squashed the soda can and stared at Michael. “Julian cannot be trusted. Yes, his stalking habits come in handy from time to time, but you cannot trust him. If he got hold of any one of us, he wouldn’t think twice about ending our lives.”
Michael slid his half-full soda away from Luke. He wasn’t hungry, but he was thirsty. “Does Lily trust him?”
Remy glanced away, but Luke exploded. “No! Lily is not that stupid.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed on Remy, who raised a brow, passing him a warning look not to continue with the Julian business. “You know you can’t go back to your apartment,” said Remy in a matter-of-fact way. “They know where you live.”
He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. He could keep denying what was obvious, or he could face the truth. Neither option was going to be easy.
“When it’s safe, we’ll send a team to retrieve your personal belongings,” continued Remy. “It is not safe for you to go there. It may never be.”
His world shifted, the weight of it nearly oppressive. “You really believe I am…Nephilim? That my father was a fallen angel?”
Luke observed him. “Yes.”
He leaned back, exhausted. “So my life is over now?” Wasn’t like he had much of a life anyway. He’d only had his mother, but when she died, that was the last of his family. Though he wasn’t close to anyone in particular, still, it had been his life.
Cocking his head to the side, Luke smiled. It was a real smile. The first Michael had ever seen on his face. “No. Your life begins now.”
…
Baal stormed through his penthouse, laying waste to three minions that had stepped forward to service him. Their screams didn’t assuage his anger. Nothing would. That bitch had gotten away from him again because of Julian. Baal wanted nothing more than to spread that little bitch’s thighs and burn her from the inside out while Julian watched.
He threw open the French doors to his bedroom and paused.
A young boy stood by his bed, his hands folded neatly. In a tailor-made suit to fit a child of his size, he looked like he was attending Sunday mass. It amused Asmodeus to dress him so. Children possessed by a misled soul decayed at a slower rate. Sometimes it took years for it to happen. Asmodeus soon hoped to have more like the boy, but ones who would never show the signs of possession.
“Baal,” the boy spoke with a soft accent, “I’ve brought you a present.”
That he did. Sprawled across black satin was a young woman with deep brown hair and curvy legs that peeked out from the edge of her pencil skirt. Her white blouse had been ripped down the middle, and her ample breasts spilled through the cloth.
Asmodeus’s little prodigy always knew how to please people. Baal approached the bed, staring down at the lovely thing. “Is she alive?”
“Of course,” he answered. “Do you wish for anything else?”
“No.”
The young boy bowed before quietly shutting the doors behind him. Baal turned back to the unconscious woman. He leaned over her, running his hand through her hair. She stirred, and a breathless whimper escaped her parted lips.
“Wake,” he ordered softly. He watched as her lashes fluttered against her cheeks and then, much to his delight, striking green eyes met his. Ah, he would need to give special thanks to his boy. He had done well.
The young woman’s eyes widened as she took in Baal. He knew what she saw. His beauty choked her terror, made her forget how she got there.
“What is your name?”
She wetted her lips. “Alicia.”
Baal smiled fully. “Come to me, Alicia.”
She climbed to her knees before him, flushed and eager. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Baal reached out and ran the tips of his fingers along her face.
“Remove your blouse.”
She complied with a small shudder. His gaze slipped to the rosy peaks. The tips hardened under his stare. Maybe this would soften his foul mood? He would try at least.
“Enjoying yourself?” Asmodeus asked.
He didn’t look away from the woman at the sound of his voice. “I am about to.”
“Why did you involve yourself this evening?”
Baal lowered his hand to one of the fleshy mounds and squeezed. The woman moaned a sound of pain mixed with pleasure. “I sensed William’s intent to take the new Nephilim. I would have had him if it wasn’t for Julian. The Nephilim would’ve been my gift to you.”