Lucifer's Bride [Complete]

46

gave you! You took everything for granted and then complained you went

through life unloved!"

Lucifer's eyes narrow in anger. "At least I had the balls to question.

You just stood there like a mindless sack doing whatever dad told you.

You never had the spine to ask anything!"

At this point, I've back myself up a few steps, trying to put some

distance between myself and these two sticks of dynamite. I'm more than

willing to stand by Lucifer in this argument, but I also know my limits.

Technically, I'm human. They're not. If either of them explode, I'm

dead.

"I never had to ask! Father was right about everything!"

"He wasn't! He claimed humans were better than us! How can they be?

Amelia's own mother sold her to me!"

"They are! They have empathy, life, choice! They have everything we

could only ream of!"

"We did have choice. You just chose not to use it!"

My head is spinning, and I can almost feel the rage radiating off of

both angels. My husband and Michael are now nose to nose, age-old

animosities flaring up again as they try to prove their points. I panic,

terrified that the entire room might spontaneously combust. I race over

and pull at Lucifer's arm, jerking him back a few inches and throwing a

few drops of water on the fuse.

"Please," I beg, "Let's juts go. It's not worth the fight. Neither of

you are going to back down, so why waste your breath. Please."

I'm willing to do anything to separate these two, even if it means

letting my mother win a game of Monopoly or giving Lucifer a strip-

tease. I don't care. I just want to go.

Lucifer stares at me, his eyes still full of fury and anger from their

argument. Slowly, though, the ferocity in them fades away, replaced by a

soothing calmness so overpowering that makes me wonder if he's got

another personality. He turns to Michael, looping one arm around my

shoulders and pulling me close.

"Yes, you're quite correct. None of this is worth the energy we've

spent." He starts to turn away, taking me with him. "We'll leave him to

stew in his anger in peace."

"Asshole!" Michael roars behind us. "She'll come to us someday!"

Lucifer wheels around and gives his brother a look that would make Mount

Everest crumble. "Come down here and harass my queen again and I will

shove that sword of yours so far up your ass father will wonder how your

spine became steel."

With that last threatening defense, Lucifer turns, grabs my arm and

hauls me out of the corridor. I don't look back to see if Michael is

still there. I don't care. I have my husband and we're leaving, which is

exactly what I want.

I manage to regain my footing and keep pace with him. I glance up to see

his eyes still blazing from the fight, a mask of pure fury carved onto

his beautiful face. He's still fuming, and I don't blame him. Michael

may be the poster-boy for heaven's might, but he's an asshole in person.

I can see why he and Lucifer never got along well.

"What now," I risk opening my mouth.

"We go to our room and cool off." His voice is cold, emotionless.