Cayman appeared in the doorway, a greenish-blue clay mask slathered across his face. “Someone is here to see you—all of you,” he said. “Not me, because I have nothing to do with you all apparently losing Lucifer. Heads-up, he’s not happy.”
I stiffened. Who would even know all of us were here and that we’d lost Lucifer? It couldn’t be Nicolai. I doubted he knew where Roth lived.
I felt Zayne stiffen beside me at the same time a strange shiver of awareness skated over my skin.
A man entered the kitchen—a man who was nearly as tall as Lucifer. Dark-haired and bearded, he had a glacial gaze that sent a chilled warning down my spine. So did the fact his features were clearer to me—like with Zayne and Lucifer. He wasn’t a demon, but power radiated from this man—the final kind of power—and my grace kicked at my skin.
Roth stepped forward. “To what do we owe the unexpected and questionable honor of your presence, Grim?”
Grim.
Grim.
My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I realized I was staring at the Grim Reaper.
The Angel of Death.
27
If a year ago, anyone told me that I would meet both Lucifer and the Angel of Death in one day, I would’ve laughed straight in their face.
But here I was, staring at the Grim Reaper, otherwise known as Azreal.
And I wasn’t laughing. Not at all. This angel didn’t answer to Heaven or Hell. Or maybe he answered to both. I had no idea, but he could end any of our lives with just the snap of his finger, and I was talking the final kind of death that ended with the destruction of the soul.
“Cute,” Grim replied to Roth. “Do you think I want to be here?”
“I’m going to go with a no.” Roth idly crossed his arms.
My brows knitted. Was it just me or did Grim have a... British accent?
The Angel of Death’s head tilted in Layla’s direction. “Nice to see you again.”
Layla gave a short, awkward wave that I felt in every part of my being.
“What in God’s green Earth have you all done?” he demanded as I saw Cayman slink from the room. “You brought Lucifer topside?”
“You have to know why,” Roth stated. “And you’re not going to ask where he is?”
I really didn’t think it was wise to bring up his absence, but what did I know?
His lips thinned behind his trimmed beard. “I know he’s not here, which is what you should have expected the moment he got topside.”
“We’ll find him,” Roth replied.
“Damn straight you will,” Grim fired back. “Because everyone who is anyone knows Lucifer is on the field, and you know what that means?”
“End of the world, Bible-study-style. Ironically, I was just having that conversation. We’re hoping that God realizes what we’re doing and doesn’t go end times on everyone,” Roth told him. “And by the way, finding Lucifer was what we were about to do before you interrupted.” Roth smirked even as Grim’s eyes narrowed. “Just saying, but since you’re here, I’m sure you could just tell us where he is.”
“I know exactly where that prima donna is and you also know that I cannot say anything.”
“Why not?” I blurted out, and those cold, cold glittering eyes swung toward Zayne and I. Yikes. I resisted the urge to take a step back. “I mean, that would be really helpful, uh, Mr. Grim—er, Mr. Azreal.”
“Mr. Grim?” Zayne whispered under his breath.
“You can just call me Grim,” he stated. “And to answer your question, the moment Lucifer reached this realm, the potential for the good old end times became a possibility. Meaning, I cannot interfere even if his presence has nothing to do with what will come to pass.”
That...sounded as stupid as any other angelic rule, so not entirely shocking. Something else did occur to me, though. “So does the rule against taking up arms against another angel also apply to you?”
“It does.” His gaze shifted to Zayne, and I tensed. “You slipped right through my grasp, didn’t you?”
“I did.” Zayne didn’t sound remotely concerned, considering the Angel of Death could try to take his grace and his wings.
“And you won’t be the only one, it appears,” Grim replied, and I had no idea what he meant by that. “Unnatural things come from unnatural deals.” His attention flicked to Layla. “This one can tell you all about that.”
I couldn’t exactly make out Layla’s expression, but she looked a little offended by the statement.
But then his icy focus was once more on me. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t have brought him back if it had come down to you summoning me.”
Another wave of shivers danced over my skin. “You knew I planned to do that?”
“Of course I did.” A tight smile appeared on Grim’s face. “I always know. I’m like Santa, but with more death.”
“Wow,” I murmured. “That comparison just ruined Christmas for me.”
“No life is worth being brought back,” he said. “Not even his.”
His comment sent a bolt of irritation through me. “Not to be rude, but why are you here? Just to lecture us?”
Silence filled the kitchen as Zayne shifted closer to me.
One side of Grim’s lips kicked up. “Pretty much.” He paused. “And I think you were knowingly being rude.”
I crossed my arms. “I was. It’s not personal,” I said, using Lucifer’s own words. “It’s just that I’m a little tired of angels doing nothing more than talk and air their grievances while everyone else is having to do the dirty work.”
“Hey,” Zayne said. “I’m more than talk.”
“You’re a Fallen. You don’t count in my sweeping and mostly accurate generalization,” I reasoned. “And by the way, why do you sound like you have a British accent?”
Grim eyed me. “Why would you even ask that?”
“I’m just curious.”
“You shouldn’t question what you cannot possibly understand.”
I rolled my eyes. “That makes no sense.”
“Well, at least I don’t sound like an American. ‘Y’all comin’ down to the crick to catch some catfish for a fish-and-fry,’” he mocked. “That’s how you sound.”
“We do not sound like that.”