Cipher (Demonica Underworld #8) - Larissa Ione Page 0,51

had been Asher’s specialty. Combined with Cipher’s tech skills, Bael had been counting on some serious computer-borne plagues.

As he lay there on his back, staring blankly up at the sky, he watched the programming code circling in the air far above him. He’d noticed it the moment he and Lyre had stepped outside the training facility and again here in this weird valley, but he hadn’t been able to decipher it yet.

Some of it looked familiar, as if he knew the subject, if not the purpose. Griminions. Souls. There would be no reason to cast spells for those things unless...unless they were the spells that kept the souls of the dead inside Bael’s territory and that kept griminions out.

“Cipher? Are you okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah.” He gave a reluctant nod. “I’m just pissed. This is insane.” He growled as his wings bucked beneath him. “That whack job gave me someone else’s wings, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he made sure they were ensorcelled so I can’t leave his realm.”

“They’re actually ensorcelled so you can’t flash around inside the realm. No newbie fallen angel can leave.”

He cranked his head to look at her. “So you’re trapped here too?”

“Yup. I’m still on probation.”

She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow, her thick ponytail draping over her shoulder and falling across her breasts. Was it wrong of him to notice that and the way her full breasts filled out her tank top?

Nah.

“Do you think part of the reason Bael gave the wings to you was to accelerate the process that turns fallen angels evil?” A breeze whipped her ponytail around until it settled in her cleavage, and he went utterly parched when she absently brushed her fingers over the thick lock of hair. “I mean, those wings are already steeped in malevolence. It should be bleeding into you.”

“Maybe,” he mused, refocusing on the subject and not on how much he wanted to drag his tongue along the neckline of her top. “But you’d think I’d feel more of it.” He’d been shocked at how not evil he felt. He’d expected to be slammed with it, to have to fight it more than he had.

“I should feel more of it too.” She toyed with a piece of the yellow grass, her liquid mercury gaze downcast. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. For so long I felt like I should want to do evil things. I wanted evil to fill me with so much hate that I wouldn’t be miserable down here.”

He got that. He’d let despair get to him once or twice, making him wonder, for a split-second, how much easier life would be if he just gave in to the dark side.

Heh. Dark side. Between his Star Wars reference and Lyre’s Aliens line, he figured that if they survived the next twenty-four hours they’d have to do a science-fiction marathon. With popcorn and pizza and beer. Damn, he could practically taste garlicky pepperoni and feel ice cold liquid pouring down his throat. He could invite Hawk and Journey, and—

A sinking sensation tugged at his insides. What if they hated him? What if they couldn’t forgive him for giving up the list of their brothers and sisters? He didn’t have to survive just the next twenty-four hours, he had to survive all his friends and the Grim Reaper.

“I think it wouldn’t have been long before I got to that point.” He swallowed dryly. “Knowing I’m responsible for the death of one of Azagoth’s children would have fucked me up.”

Still might.

“I’m so sorry.” Her palm traveled up and down his arm in long, soothing strokes, and his skin tingled at the gentle touch. “I didn’t know what Bael intended.”

He tempered his voice, driven by curiosity, not malice. “Would it have mattered?”

“Honestly? At the time, no.”

“And now?”

She closed her eyes, and he wondered if she was conscious of the way her nails dug into his skin. “Now I just want to get out of here. I don’t want to be responsible for any of the catastrophic things Bael and Moloc plan to do.” Her sable lashes flew up, and her eyes mirrored her sudden anger. “Now the only evil I want any part in is aimed at those assholes,” she growled.

Okay, he could work with that. “Wanna do evil things together?”

“Like what?”

“Like...open Bael’s realm to Azagoth.” God, he hoped this wasn’t a trick. He was going to lay it all out, and if she reported back to Bael, he’d be