Reignite (Extinguish #2) (15 page)

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Authors: J. M. Darhower

BOOK: Reignite (Extinguish #2)
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"It's a frog,"
Nicki exclaimed, pointing at it. "Did you find yours yet?"

"I don't know that
I have," Serah said hesitantly.

"Too bad."
Nicki said it casually, shrugging. "Maybe you will today."

The little girl was off again, running for the door
as she shouted back at her mother that she was going outside to play. Samantha
yelled to her, telling her to tie her shoes, asking her to be careful, shouting
to her about safety, but Nicki was out the door without listening to a bit of
it. Groaning, Samantha shoved her chair back and climbed to her feet. "I
wish I had half of her energy."

"Luckily, I
do," Serah said, jumping to her feet. "Allow me."

Samantha looked as if
she wanted to argue but shrugged it off, slumping back into the chair. Serah
headed outside, finding Nicki in the front yard, the grass nearly to her small
waist. Serah helped the girl tie her shoes and relayed the messages from her
mother before heading back inside. She retook the seat at the table, picking up
the yet untouched glass of wine, as Samantha eyed her peculiarly.

"Did she put up a
fight?"

"No."

"She listened to
you?"

"Yes."

A smile overtook
Samantha's lips. "Serah, I think you and I are going to be great
friends."

Serah let out a light
laugh as she brought the cup to her lips, hesitantly taking a small sip of the
wine. It was bitter, and kind of warm, but it went down smoothly. Serah pulled
the cup back, glancing inside of it, before taking another sip right away.

Three sips later, her
body was tingly.

Another four and she
felt like she was floating above the chair.

The two chatted as they
sat at the kitchen table, late afternoon turning into early evening. Serah
drank the wine and happily listened while Samantha vented her frustrations. By
the time night fell outside, Nicki was sitting with them, coloring contentedly.
Both women were relaxed, a weight seemed to have lifted off of Samantha's
shoulders, while Serah was downright buzzing.

 

All mortals have sin inside of them.

In some, it's barely
measurable, little drops of depravity that never floated to the surface,
staying buried deep inside the body. Others wear their sins like tattoos on the
skin, badges they carelessly flash at anyone who comes near.

Luce had encountered them all—the selfish
mostly full of greed, the lazy filled to the brim with sloth, the evil fed by
wrath, the jealous consumed by envy, the conceited with their inflated pride,
and the gluttons with their overindulging—but he'd always been drawn to
the ones bathed in lust. Pheromones coated them like an intoxicating perfume.
In the past, he rarely resisted the scent. He drowned himself in it, sometimes
not coming up for air for days… weeks… months.

Years.

He'd walk away from a
binge of sin, coated in all of the deadliest, his eyes blazing embers, his skin
pulsating. In the aftermath, he'd feel like that indestructible being, the
villainous monster the world made him out to be. He wouldn't think twice about
those he destroyed during his rampage, the souls he'd shredded, the torture
he'd inflicted.

He was a junkie, plain
and simple…

And he hadn't had a
taste in months.

Luce stood in front of
Serah's house. The lights were all off inside, nobody home, but he could sense
her essence strongly next door. It was a powerful concentration, humming like a
motor, the vibration so intense Luce could feel the ground trembling beneath
his feet. Her energy still buzzed on a higher frequency than everyone else, and
tonight, it was loud.

It practically screamed.

He'd been half a world
away, on another continent, in the ancient castle where the demons still
flocked, passing his time sitting in that throne and tinkering with his knife.
He'd sent his minions out to keep an eye on Abaddon, and they reported back
every few hours with what he was doing.

Nothing.

He was doing fucking
nothing.

Luce wasn't an idiot, though. The angel was biding
his time before he enacted his plan. Luce was waiting for his old friend to set
things in motion, but he didn't want the fight to be drawn anywhere near her.

So he kept his distance,
but it didn't last long, because he felt the pull from over three thousand
miles away. He'd zapped right there, unable to ignore it, and the concentration
of sin nearly knocked him on his ass.

Lust.

Small doses had brewed
in her as an angel. He'd felt them then. He'd capitalized on them.
But this?
This was like nothing he'd ever felt from her
before.

Luce stood still,
watching as Serah exited the neighbor's house and strolled through the yard
toward hers. She was light on her feet, but somewhat unsteady, weaving as she
strolled along. She glanced up when she neared her porch, gasping and stopping
abruptly. "Luce."

His name was a whisper.
Her breath smelled like wine. Her cheeks flushed pink from her intoxication,
and the wave of desire struck him hard. His own body started buzzing from it, a
needless breath entering his lungs as he inhaled the aroma. He needn't see
himself to know his eyes were dimming, the purity draining from him. He could
feel it, feel the flames igniting under his skin, his temperature steadily
rising.

Sinners run hot because
they're destined to burn.

It's Hell's way of
calling them home.

"Serah," he
said quietly, his voice strained as he addressed her.

"Luce," she
said again. "I haven't seen you."

"I haven't been
around."

It was the longest Luce
had stayed away from her in months.

"I know. You
left."

"I did."

"But you're
here," she said, stepping toward him. "You're here now."

"I am."

She stared up at him,
her breaths shaky. He could see she had a dozen other questions, her mouth
opening and closing as she struggled to form them. She remained silent, though.
The words wouldn't come out.

Carefully, Luce reached
over, grazing his fingertips along her flushed cheek, feeling the warmth
brewing beneath her skin. Touching her was dangerous. His fix was right in
front of him, glowing like a beacon, calling out to him. He could satiate his
need and purge the build up, drawing the lust out of her as she welcomed him
in. And she would. She yearned for him. He could feel it stronger at that
moment than he ever felt it down in the pit.

Luce started to speak
but the words were stolen from him when Serah thrust up on her tiptoes, lips
smashing against his. The moment they connected, all thoughts wiped from his
mind as he blanked out, feeling nothing, seeing nothing, except for her.

Energy surged inside of
him. Snatching a hold of Serah, he dragged her inside, never breaking the kiss.
He pulled her through the house, frustration mingling with the powerful
sensation. It was so damn difficult not being able to zap her anywhere.

He found the bedroom and
easily lifted her up by her hips, pulling her onto the small bed, on top of the
crisp, cool sheets. Her dress bunched up around her hips as he settled between
her legs, kissing her deeply, tasting the wine on her lips.

His hands roamed her
body, caressing her skin, groping her flesh. He thrust against her, material
still separating them, but the friction was enough to push Serah over the edge.
She moaned into his mouth, her sighs becoming cries that Luce feasted on,
hungrily devouring every whimper as he thrust, and thrust, and thrust. He
nearly knocked her off the bed from the force, the headboard banging against
the wall as he fucked her with their clothes on, not once breaking the kiss.

It was enough... just
enough... for him to get a taste, to give her what she yearned for, but it
wasn't what Luce really craved. He wanted her.
All of her.
Lust wasn't enough. He wanted to pull everything out of her and bask in it.

He thrust harder, and
harder, feeling her body quiver beneath his as she started to come. She called
out to him, the shaky cry of pleasure exiting her and flowing through him. His
body lit up from the inside, tingling from head to toe, as a sudden and
unexpected crash of thunder rumbled,
lightning
flashing right outside the window.

He tilted his head back,
absorbing it all.

"Oh God,"
Serah whimpered. Luce's hand clamped down around her mouth, smothering the
words. Her eyes shot open, startled, as he looked at her.

"Be careful
who
you invoke," he said quietly, his body rubbing
against hers, riding her through the orgasm, as he stared her in the eyes. He
could see a reflection of his own--pitch black. At least they weren't red. Red
would terrify her, but right now she just looked intrigued.

He pulled his hand away
just as her voice rang out. "Your eyes are so dark… and your skin is
burning up. I feel like... I feel like I'm humming. Like my soul is vibrating
because of your touch."

It is, Lucifer thought. He recharged her energy
just by getting her off. Lust still clung to her, surrounding both of them, but
he'd siphoned most of it off.

Without responding, his
hands cupped her face. He kissed her again, kissing her deeply, as her body
started to relax into the bed.

"You're
sleeping," he whispered against her lips. "You're dreaming, angel.
This didn't happen."

Pulling back, he hovered
over of her and stared down into her eyes. She held his gaze for a moment as he
brushed his fingertips across her forehead.

Her eyes fluttered
closed.

Out cold for the night
.

Tension smothered the
throne room.

Michael
had never felt such suffocation before, his chest tight like his lungs needed
air but he couldn't breath. He clutched the hilt of his sword tightly with both
hands, the tip of it grinding into the floor.

He
couldn't move, or speak. He couldn't do anything. He was made of marble. He'd
been chiseled from stone.

Inside,
he felt like he was crumbling.

"I
warned you," his Father said gently.

Michael
lowered his head and closed his eyes. "I know."

The
throne room had been broadcasting images of Satan for months. It played out
around them like a long, endless movie, day in and day out. The same settings,
the same cast. Michael avoided most of it, but curiosity got the best of him
today. Serah had succumbed to mortal temptations, and Satan had been drawn
right to it.

Of course
.
Even Michael had felt the
attraction, the pull of sin from so far away. Serah wasn't used to human
emotions. When the switch flipped inside of her, it was extreme.

Michael
stayed planted in Heaven, though, and despite his Father's warnings, he watched
it play out. Michael wanted to bear witness to the evil, but what he'd seen was
an entirely different show. Satan had purged it from her, reveling in the sin
himself
, but he'd left her intact afterward.

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