"When Lucifer Fell,He did not do so alone.And from this perverse covenant sprang forth LegionAnd all of Heaven Wept."~ The Book of Lost DaysLilith 1:1 "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession—!"The confessional booth in Our Mother's Merciful Tears was cramped at best. I had to contort myself in a manner most unnaturally and painfully to continue servicing Father Jacobs, as per requisite as a freshly ordained Magdalena under the Order of the Knights Templar, Iscariot division. I did so with the tact one might expect of a demon hunter in my position, but that didn't mean I enjoyed it.For one, the demon was taking far too long.And second, it was the day of my sister's wedding, which was reason enough to be sore.As the eldest of seven daughters, it was considered…improper to not be married at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, and definitely a subject to be pitied according to the women around me. The fact that, my

Remmy's POV "As the Heavenly Host wept for their lost BrethrenThe Angel of Storms had raged aloneFor he would never accept the FallenAs ever being truly lost."~ The Book of Lost DaysAdo, 11: 1 "You stink!" Rainwater, cold from a long night's wait, collected in a dirty tin, splashed me in the face. "Get out of here, you bum! Fucking get!""I'm not a bum, areshole." My legs were stiff, locked still in the kneeling position I'm struggling to get out off. The man, a butcher by the look of his filthy smock, kicked a can in my direction intending to hit me. A gust from my hidden wings was my only saving grace. "All right! I'm getting up, no need to be a dick about it!""Why don't you get a fucking job, you slob!" He tossed a dirty dish rag at me, trying to get me to rise quicker than my legs wanted. His lack of compassion shouldn't have stung, but it did. What little grace I still had left in me ached at the lack of goodwill towards his fellow man. Even if I was not a

Remmy's POV "Later!" Abezethibod threw the table from the pair of us as the redheaded woman squared herself like she was about to get into a fistfight. With a General of Hell. She was either wildly overestimating herself, or she was more powerful than I'd anticipated. With her Grace, I was hoping it was the latter than the former, otherwise, she was in for a rude awakening of the life-ending variety. "I hope you know how to fight!"I scoffed at that, and the tingle of Grace still left in my reserves found upon my pride."I think I'll manage just fine," I said drily, removing my overcoat and sweatshirt so I was left in my t-shirt and jeans. The redhead woman looked at me like I was missing a few screws as I calmly folded my clothes and left them at the bar behind us. Well, she was a judgmental little thing, wasn't she?"You a warlock or something?" She dodged to her left, avoiding Abezethibod's tail strike, the leather whip leaving grooves longer than the man's current body

Nadya's POV "Fuck!"The angel—God, that's what he was, wasn't he? This was all sorts of wrong—Remmy yanked back my covers as a man possessed. And, maybe he was. I saw the way his eyes changed, the lightning sparks within intensifying, and he leaned over to kiss me deeply."Zohnivas!" His baritone flattened across my body as Enochian whispers released me from the binding spell he put me under. "Come here, Nadya. I want you to touch me. I want to touch you.""Jesus Christ," I whispered into his soft lips, slightly chapped from the outside. Just the right amount of roughness to have me go limp in his arms as he kissed me deeply. I…I know I should have stopped him, I was still a tad infectious, but that little logical part of me got tossed away to the side from the demon's influence. I wanted him on me, over me, in me. "Please, please touch me!"It didn't take me long to toss away his raggedy little shirt as I rolled out of bed, on my knees. My hands were already skirting a

Nadya's POV "I am going to SHIT if he does not show up at this restaurant in the next ten seconds."Yulia put her cigarette to her lips, leg bouncing as she sat in the plush pleather seats of Simmons Diner, the family restaurant.We were in the back in the VIP section. The diner closed for the next week in preparation for the wedding that had apparently been canceled. I sank into my seat in the middle of the awkward sibling line, praying that my date got the shits and wouldn't be able to make it.The angry tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Yulia's leg bouncing didn't help. Her ginger hair was in a severe ponytail that bobbed as she bounced, and her bubble vest matched her pink Uggs, a sharp contrast to her designer black turtleneck and athleisure wear leggings. Her sunglasses hid the hangover she was doing a poor job of nursing as she stabbed her fries into the ketchup in a way I knew meant she was imagining me.I sank deeper."Maybe