Chapter XX

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"I was not made aware you were coming," the old man handed me a porcelain cup and I wrapped my hands around the warm china, thawing my frozen fingers.

"I would've called but you refuse to learn how to use the telephone," Lucifer said, sat on the other side of the room. The house was most splendid; the roof was high and beautiful figures and lines were carved into the red wood. The fire was burning in the grand fireplace and I dug my bare toes into the wool carpet.

"Bloody things are useless. A letter works much better in my opinion," he grumbled, sitting into his red chair, the back rising far above his head. He had put on a silk house coat as we settled inside and it grazed the floor when he walked, rising behind him as it caught a draft.

"Our coming was... unexpected," Lucifer raised his leg and placed his ankle on the opposite knee, leaning back in the chair. I took of the drink and held back a grimace. I hated tea with a passion.

"What could be so urgent?" his face scrunched up, making the wrinkles along his skin more prominent.

"My friend here has committed a grave sin," he gestured to Nathan and he rolled his eyes.

"Lust I presume. Youngsters these days; can't keep their genitals in their pants," he grumbled and my eyes widened. "I really don't know what you expect me to do or why you're even interested in this at all. The Lucifer I remember wouldn't have gone through this trouble."

"Oh, but this is no regular pregnancy," Lucifer smiled.

"I deducted that. I'm no fool Lucifer, you can see their light from miles away," he looked between the two angels. "Except this one seems to have a gloomier aura," he looked at Nathan and he turned away.

"And what of you, little one," he looked at Sarah and she coiled away. "Don't be frightened," he stood up with the help of his silver cane and approached her. She stood up and he placed his hand on her stomach that wasn't showing yet.

"Oh, they aren't happy with this," he said, his eyes closed.

"Who isn't happy?" I asked.

"The spirits, they're angry," he breathed, looking around him. "Angry with you," he stared at Nathan. He stood up abruptly and squinted at the old man.

"What are they saying?"

"I can't speak to them," he muttered. You could see he was beginning to grow annoyed. "I can sense them."

"Can you help her?" I asked and he eyed me a moment.

"Doubtful," he scoffed.

"Let's not forget our little deal," Lucifer spoke up. "A favour in return for your life. I expect nothing less."

"There's isn't very much I can do," he sighed. "I haven't practiced in a very long time."

"You expect me to believe that?" Lucifer shouted. "I saw your grimoire opened on the kitchen table." He swallowed hard. Lucifer prowled towards him like a predator. "And I thought we were old chums, you and I. Suppose I was wrong," he pulled out a knife from his pocket and pressed it to his neck.

"They won't allow me to help!" he shouted, raising his hands in the air, the fear evident in his eyes.

"The Edward I remember would not let himself be pushed around by some old spirits," he was standing behind him, the blade skimming his wrinkled neck.

"It is different now. Times have changed," he muttered, holding his breath.

"Well, I'll make this a simple choice for you. Either you help us or I'll do what should have been done a long time ago."

The Fallen AngelDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora